A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League)

by Allie Pleiter

  Finn looked out the window, wishing his heart wasn’t sinking with every mile that brought him closer to Austin. “That what?”

  Carson grunted. “I’m no shrink, but even I can hear what’s going on in the way you say her name.”

  He had to keep pulling his hand from the door handle. The urge to escape the truck—and the now-exposed truth—itched under his rib cage. “Amelia’s a nice lady.”

  Carson pulled up at a red light at the bottom of the exit ramp. “Really? After all you just spilled to me you’re gonna go with ‘She’s a nice lady’?”

  Finn knew he was lost. After so many weeks of not knowing things or keeping roaring emotions in check, now every truth scrambled to get out. He evaded anyway. “She’s a really nice lady?”

  Carson’s resulting glare said everything his silence did not.

  An excruciating pause let Finn know he wouldn’t be allowed out of the truck without further explanation. Maybe it would be better to talk it through with someone who wasn’t Luther or Amelia. Finn removed his hand from the door handle yet again, beginning with the only fact that mattered. “I’d only hurt her.”

  Carson thought for a moment. “You know that for sure?”

  Didn’t Thorn hear any of what Finn just said? “How can it end any other way?”

  “Maybe. Seems to me Amelia’s made of tough stuff. She knows for herself what could hurt her. That whole business with Rafe spelled that out clearly enough.”

  “All the more reason not to let her in for another round of misery.” Misery. The word had begun to stick to him, a pallor he’d never shake off. The term a miserable existence was taking on a personal meaning. This wasn’t just “inviting the pain in,” this was being consumed by it.

  “Have you bothered to ask her?”

  Finn put his hands over his eyes for a moment, finding the cheery sunshine blinding. Had he asked? He and Amelia had talked about everything long and hard, but did he ever come right out and ask her if she was willing to make a go of things between them? What woman in her right mind would even consider it?

  “Or did you just decide yourself, and that’s why you were heading out of town before dawn?”

  Carson called his bluff. “I definitely should have taken that cab.”

  “No, I think it’s a good thing you didn’t.” Carson shook his head. “I’m not blaming you for evasive maneuvers—Amelia’s a one-woman army when she sets her mind to something.”

  Finn ran his hands through his hair. He’d become unbearably fidgety, and it had little to do with the coffee. “So everyone says. Believe me, I don’t need convincing.”

  They came to another stoplight, and Carson turned to Finn. “Look, Brannigan, I won’t pretend to know what it’s like to lose an entire family way too soon. Everyone sees rough patches, but nothing I’ve been through ranks with the kind of loss you’ve had. It sounds unbearable. The worst kind of grief.”

  It was almost a relief to have Carson call his situation for the avalanche of pain that it was. Lots of people were quick to give “chin up” and “time will heal” platitudes that made him want to hit things and yell It’s awful and there’s nothing anyone can do about it!

  “Only I’m not so sure it’s a reason to cut yourself off from someone as good as Amelia,” Carson continued.

  “It’s not?” Finn sure thought it was.

  “She’s known a lot of loss, too. And her fair share of heartbreak. Still, she’s held on to life in a way most of us couldn’t. She has this ability to keep going we all admire. And hearts just don’t come bigger or stronger than Amelia Klondike’s. You really want to walk away from what could be the best thing to ever happen to you just because you’re worried she can’t handle the risk?”

  Finn yearned to stomp out the irrational ember of hope Thorn’s words ignited in his chest. “It’s not that simple, Thorn.”

  “I think it is. You either move forward or back. Before Ruby came back to town, I thought I was moving forward, but I really wasn’t.” On the drive, Carson had shared the story of how his fiancée, Ruby, had been pushed from his life but had returned. Sure, they’d worked through their share of hurts, but just because Carson got his happy ending didn’t mean everyone else got theirs. “I may be the last guy on earth qualified to give relationship advice,” Carson went on, “but you’re looking at a guy who almost let a good thing go. I’d hate to see you make that mistake.”

  When Finn didn’t answer, Carson shot him another look. “You know Amelia would say it wasn’t an accident she was the one to find you. Amelia believes God puts people in her path to help.”

  That had been the hardest part. Half of him was ready, eager to believe God had sent him Amelia. She seemed to be the antidote to so many of the poisons in his life. Around her, Finn could almost believe that happiness wouldn’t always be out of reach. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to be that selfish. To take what she gave, and give her only risk and harm in return? No, he had to protect Amelia from what her giant, optimistic heart refused to accept. “She’s got way more faith than I have. Maybe more than I’ll ever have.”

  The light changed and Carson kept driving. “So you figure you have to play the noble, sacrificing guy and save her from herself. I get it. Only that means you’ve decided you know better than God. You’re saying that Him putting you and Amelia together was a mistake.” Carson sighed. “Take it from me, that’s a mighty dangerous way to think.”

  Finn didn’t really care for a lecture this morning. “You think I should just pretend the facts don’t matter? Hope my past stays forgotten?”

  “I’m not saying that at all.”

  Finn’s hand crept back onto the door handle. Even if it was miles to his apartment he could still pull the door open and bail out. “So what are you saying, Thorn?”

  Carson turned a corner and pulled the truck to a stop. “I’m saying that I can’t tell you what to do. But you can’t tell Amelia what to do, either. But you’ve done that by leaving.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card. “My meeting is done at 3:00, and I’m driving back to Little Horn. I’d rather not make the drive alone. I’d rather bring you back to Little Horn, at least until you can get all this worked out.”

  Finn took the card. “I doubt I’ll change my mind.” He grabbed his bag from the back of the cab, thinking even if he had to walk clear across Travis County it would be easier than staying and listening to Carson Thorn chip away at his resolve.

  “Your choice. But just remember one thing.”

  “What?” Finn opened the door.

  “I’m with Amelia on this one. I don’t think it’s any accident that I was at Maggie’s this morning on my way into Austin.” Carson put a hand on Finn’s arm as he was getting out of the truck. “God’s handing you a rope, Finn. Grab it.”

  * * *

  Amelia pulled on the bright red sweater that she always wore to the League Christmas party. Christmas is still on its way. The Christ child still comes when my heart is broken. You came for broken hearts anyway, Jesus. Heal mine, even if only for tonight. I’m not the only one in Little Horn who needs Your joy.

  She thought again about the back office at the League headquarters, full to bursting with toys and gifts for so many in Little Horn. Happy faces and squeals of delight would do her good tonight.

  “Pull yourself together, girl.” Amelia addressed her reflection as she put on a pair of holly earrings. “Little Horn needs Christmas this year more than ever, and it’s your job to make it happen.”

  As she reached for the wreath pin to fix to her sweater, her eye landed on the folded paper tucked against her mirror—the letter Finn had left. Don’t read it again, she told herself even as she reached for it.

  I can’t stay, it said in Finn’s bold hand. Of course he was the kind of man who wrote in all capital letters—he was intense about everything. You’ve done so much for me. You made my escape from those memories something I’ll always remember. It’s why you deserve someone else. Have
a wonderful life, Amelia.

  Have a wonderful life. Was there any more permanent way to say goodbye? If he wrote Don’t come looking for me, he couldn’t have been more clear. The split with Rafe had always felt like her own decision, even though his actions drove her to it. It felt as if Finn had ripped himself out of her life.

  She knew why he had skipped the goodbye; she would have done anything to convince him to stay. She would have made him stay, somehow. Staying here in the first place, Christmas shopping, “stocking,” she’d continually talked him into things he didn’t want because she thought they were good for him. I always think I know how to help everybody, don’t I?

  Finn knew he wasn’t yet strong enough to resist her relentless persuasion. That only made it worse, because it told her how much he truly did care. Why can’t it be enough, Lord? Why can’t love be enough? What’s the point of so many obstacles when the world is hard enough as it is?

  Amelia pulled in a deep breath, gave one last fix to her hair and walked out into the hallway. As she passed the stairs, she saw Bug lying at the top—his new favorite place to lay—staring at the door to Finn’s room. Only it wasn’t Finn’s room anymore, was it? How was it she could feel that man all over this house when he’d been here less than a month?

  “I know, pal,” she said as Bug wobbled down the stairs to meet her. “I miss him, too.”

  Gramps came out of his room, handsome in the dark green sweater and maroon bow tie that was his Christmas party attire. His eyes told her he’d heard what she said. “Sometimes, all you get to do is plant the seed. God gives the harvest to someone else.” He was talking about restoring Finn to faith, but he was talking about her heart, as well. “Some things even you can’t fix. Finn has to heal on his own—if he heals at all.”

  “I hate not knowing where he is or if he’s okay.”

  Gramps walked over and took her hand. “Silly. You know exactly where he is. He’s in God’s hands. Now it’s your job to leave him there.”

  The threat of tears burned behind Amelia’s eyes, and she pasted a teasing frown on her face. “Stop being so wise.”

  He pulled her into a hug for a few seconds. “I think a party is exactly what we need. Who’s playing Santa this year?”

  Gramps had taken the role of League Santa for years before the toll of squirming, sugar-hyped children became to much for his aging body. Since his “retirement,” no consistent candidate had risen up to take his place. Every year Amelia had to wage an arm-twisting campaign to get someone to put on the red suit. Why it should be so hard to convince any of Little Horn’s portlier ranchers to do something so fun was beyond her. “This year I’ve hit the bottom of the barrel, Gramps.”

  “Who?”

  “Byron.”

  Gramps had every right to look astounded. “Byron McKay? He’d make a better Scrooge. What about Carson?”

  As if she hadn’t gone through the League rolls twice already, considering every other option. “And burst young Brandon’s bubble when he recognizes his uncle under that white beard? I couldn’t do that to a six-year-old. Besides, Carson’s far too fit and trim to play Santa.”

  Gramps drew a breath to name another candidate, but Amelia stopped him. “And Doc Grainger’s on call tonight—we can’t very well have Santa’s beeper going off and sending him rushing before presents get handed out, can we?”

  “But Byron?”

  “The suit’s too big for anyone else, even if we pad it.” She was ashamed to tell Gramps she’d found a smaller suit on sale and had every hope of convincing Finn to play Santa this year. It seemed like such a foolish idea to her now, and she couldn’t find the energy to go convince someone else. “I had to promise the moon to get Byron to do it. Guess who’s in charge of cleaning the League office for the next year?”

  “Cleaning? You?”

  She sighed. “I’ll hire a couple of students from the high school and pay them out of my own pocket. Kids always need jobs anyways.”

  Gramps headed for the hall closet to fetch his coat. “You would have been better off instituting a Mrs. Claus this year.”

  “No child wants to get his presents from Mrs. Claus. Honestly, even if I could find the costume, I think that would be worse than having no Santa at all.”

  “I don’t know,” Gramps muttered. “This is Byron we’re talking about.”

  “Well—” Amelia helped Gramps with his buttons “—we’ll just have to pray hard that Byron is struck by a sudden and whopping case of holiday cheer.”

  Gramps snorted. “Now, that would qualify as a Christmas surprise in my book.” He stopped for a moment before heading toward the garage door. “You gonna be okay?”

  “You know me.” She applied a bright smile. “Unsinkable Amelia Klondike.” A tiny crack in her heart reminded her that Finn had called her that, as well. Maybe not so tiny a crack. Maybe a wide, gaping hole. She adjusted Gramps’s bow tie one more time. “Always Here to Help.” In truth, there probably wasn’t a better thing for her to be doing right now than bringing happiness to someone who needed it. She just wondered if that trusted antidote to her own pain would be enough to fill the hole left by Finn Brannigan.

  Gramps caught her hand. “He hasn’t fallen off the face of the earth, Amelia. Just gone away to heal. Either he’ll come back healed, or he won’t. I’m not saying you can’t pray all you want about it, but I am saying this is something where you don’t get to help.”

  As usual, Gramps hit the problem right on the head—and where it hurt the most. “Do you hope he’ll come back, Gramps?”

  Her grandfather’s lips pursed in thought. “I think he could be a fine man if he made peace with all that’s happened to him.” He looked up at Amelia. There had been at time when he was taller than her, but age had stooped his shoulders even though it had never robbed the twinkle from his eye. “Do you want him to come back? After all, he’s a Ranger. You know what all that means.”

  “I do. Only I’ve been thinking—what bothered me most about Rafe wasn’t the risk, it was where I fit in his life. The badge always came first with Rafe, and always would. There’s risk in every walk of life—look at poor Ben Stillwater still in a coma from riding across a pasture like dozens of ranchers do every day.”

  “And Finn?”

  “I think he knows better than most men to treasure the people in his life. It’s why he’s not letting anyone close—they’d become precious to him.” The words caught thick in her throat.

  Gramps pushed the button that raised the garage doors. “Trouble is, we don’t always get to choose when and how folks become precious to us.”

  She didn’t mean for the unkind thought to slip out, but it did. “Rafe chose.” Even though she’d made the decision to end it, and never regretted that choice, the whole business still stung of rejection. All the hindsight in the world didn’t change that Rafe had chosen the badge over her.

  Gramps turned to look at her. “You could say that. And it’s sad—for you and for him. A man who makes those choices doesn’t know what’s precious in the first place.” He touched Amelia’s cheek. “You’re precious to me, darlin.’ And precious to God. And God willing, you’ll be precious to the right man when he comes along.”

  Amelia never stopped believing that. She just feared the right man had come...and gone.

  Chapter Twenty

  Carson Thorn caught up with Amelia at the punch bowl. “Can I speak with you for a minute?”

  Had he stopped in his office and seen the pile of gifts she’d stowed there when he said he’d be out for the day? “I only went a smidgen over budget, Carson, and I’ll cover it out of my own pocket. After all, what’s money for if not to spend on kids at Christmas?” In fact, Amelia had gone way over budget, channeling all her energies into present shopping. “You going to tell me you didn’t go all out for that nephew of yours this year?”

  Carson smiled. “Maybe, but this is about something else.” He walked to his office and shut the door behind them. It was hard to d
o—the room was piled high with boxes and bags. He nodded toward the two Santa suits. Amelia had forgotten they both were here. Why didn’t she take the one meant to fit Finn home and bury it in the farthest corner of the attic?

  “Don’t ask.”

  Carson found the one empty corner of his desk and leaned against it. “I drove Finn into Austin early this morning.”

  “How?”

  “I was at Maggie’s to pick up coffee before I drove in for an early meeting. He was there waiting for a cab.”

  The image of Finn walking down the highway away from her in the dark rose a lump in Amelia’s throat. “How was he?”

  “Miserable about sums it up.”

  Her constant heartache pitched into a searing pain that threatened a new bout of tears. She was so weary of feeling as if her heart had been trampled. Plum tired of trying to push the joy up from under all the hurt.

  “He told me the whole story, Amelia. I don’t think he planned to, or even wanted to, but he was so tired and hurt I think it sort of gushed out of him. Land sakes, but what that man has been through.”

  “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

  Carson ran a hand across his chin. “I tried, Amelia. I told him Little Horn would always welcome him. I gave him my cell number and offered to drive him back here after my meeting. I told him I thought you and he deserved a chance.”

  He didn’t need more words to tell her his offer had been declined. “I’m sorry, Amelia.”

  She couldn’t reply. She tried to be thankful that Carson had made the effort on her behalf, but her disappointment swallowed up any gratitude.

  “He’s doing it to protect you, if that makes any difference. He feels he’s saving you from hurt by staying away.”

  “Saving me from hurt, is he?” The pain slipped out of her grasp, cutting a sharp, sour edge onto her words. “Well, it hasn’t worked. I’m hurting now.” She looked up at Carson. “He didn’t even say goodbye.”

  “He knew you’d try to make him stay, and he didn’t think he was strong enough to refuse.”

  Carson’s eyes told her he knew his words were just making everything worse. She ought to thank him for trying, but the words stuck dry and false in her throat.