All I Want for Christmas

by Sandra D. Bricker

  “Well, I haven’t made any decisions yet.” Jed sighed and tucked his hands into his back pockets. “I thought I’d see how things shake out here. Unless you already feel like you don’t need me.”

  “Oh no,” she said on a bubbling laugh. “We need you. At least until my sisters arrive and we make some decisions.”

  “So your sisters are coming?” Sarah asked. “All three?”

  “I don’t really know yet. Bella will come. I know she will. And Sophie said this morning she’d think about it.”

  “Wouldn’t it be lovely to have all four Tucker girls here to celebrate the Christmas holiday, Jedediah?”

  “That it would,” he answered.

  “It would make your mama and daddy so happy,” Sarah told Joanna, “to know this old place sang again with their family’s laughter. It’s a family homestead, that’s what your daddy used to say.”

  Jed didn’t hold out much hope for Joanna’s sisters deciding to forget the past and fly into town just to spend some time at the horse farm—Tuck’s family ranch. And that reality made his heart sink a little on Joanna’s behalf.

  When their eyes met, Jed thought he detected a mist of emotion in Joanna’s. One side of her mouth lifted in a crooked little smile again, but she didn’t break the connection of their gaze as she said softly, “Montana. The other side of the world. What about your mother? She’d hardly ever see you.”

  “I was kind of hoping she’d come with me.”

  Joanna turned to Sarah and exclaimed, “You’re leaving, too?”

  The older woman slid her arm around Joanna’s shoulder and smiled. “Nothing’s been decided yet, Sweet Pea. No one’s going anywhere just now.”

  Jed watched Joanna lower her gaze, and her shoulders rose and fell with a silent sigh.

  “What’re you two cooking, anyway?” he asked. “It smells pretty good. Mind if I stick around?”

  “Of course not. You know better than to ask,” his mother said. “It’s chicken and dumplings. Joanna and I found it in her mother’s recipe box this afternoon, and we just happened to have all the ingredients we needed.”

  “There’s a freeze moving in tonight,” he said. “I’m going to refresh the batteries in the lanterns and radio now in case we lose power, and I’ll check the exterior water pipes after supper.”

  Sarah nodded. “Good thinking. We’ll need to leave the water running in the sinks tonight, too. Don’t want the pipes to burst.”

  Chapter Six

  Joanna’s coat was a tight fit over the double portion of sweaters she’d stuffed into it, and Sarah had provided a pair of fleece-lined work gloves to slip on over her much-thinner pink ones. The thermometer on the outside wall had dropped to single digits by the time they finished dinner, and when she stepped outside, the wind whipped across the porch with such strength that she could hardly stand against it.

  “It’s pretty early in the season for these temperatures,” Jed told her as he crouched and felt around the hose bib attached to the side of the house. “On Thanksgiving Day, we were all wearing our jackets unzipped. This turn sure doesn’t bode well for the kind of winter we might see by Christmas.”

  “What about the horses?” she asked. “Has the stable been winterized?”

  “We did some work out there just a few weeks back.” He stood, then bit the fingertip of his glove to pull it from his hand so he could reach into his pocket for his cell phone. “I’ll send the boys down to blanket the horses who need it. We wouldn’t normally do that so early in the season, but I think the weather report warrants it for a night or two. Let’s pray the power stays on. I don’t want to lose heat down there.”

  Joanna took the opportunity to watch him while Jed typed in a text with his thumb, his hat pulled down low and the collar of his coat flipped upright. She could hardly get a good look at him, except for those striking eyes of his, narrowed as he focused on the screen in his hand. When he finished, he tucked the phone away and replaced his glove before glancing at her.

  “I wonder what we’d ever have done around this place without you,” she said.

  “Been doing it a long time.”

  A random memory flickered out of nowhere, and Joanna grinned. “Remember the night of the autumn hayride, Jed? When you took Becky Whitlow down to the stable so you could make out with her?”

  It appeared to take a moment for him to connect to the name, but when he did he flashed a sly smile at her. “I recollect that was my senior year. And you hadn’t even started high school yet. You like to scared the sense right out of Becky and me when you fell out of the hayloft trying to spy on us.”

  A flush of embarrassment washed over Joanna as the wind scratched her cheeks. She dug her double-gloved hands into the pockets of her coat. “I wanted to get a closer look.”

  “At what exactly?”

  She sighed. “I don’t know. I wanted to see how you held her, how you moved in for the kiss. I hadn’t seen a lot of kissing just yet—”

  “Not counting Amy and Tim.” He chuckled.

  “Yeah, not counting them. But I was . . . curious.”

  Jed grabbed the lapels of Joanna’s coat and lifted them around her face to keep her warm. “Did you get all the information you needed before falling twenty feet into a stack of hay?”

  Oh, I fell far more than out of a hayloft that night, she mused as their gazes remained locked. I fell so hard for you on that hayride, and you didn’t even know I existed.

  “You were far too young back then to be thinking about how I planted one on some girl’s lips.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Didn’t stop you from wondering though, did it, Jo-Jo?”

  She grinned. “Nope.”

  “You still wondering? About my technique and all?”

  “It may have crossed my mind. Now and then.”

  “Permission to demonstrate?”

  Joanna’s heart pounded so hard that her pulse beat like a bass drum in both ears. “I suppose.” She sounded far more casual than she felt. “For the sake of resolving any unanswered questions.”

  Tightening his grip on her lapels and strengthening the lock on their gazes, he stepped closer and drew Joanna toward him slowly. Her frozen lips tingled in anticipation, and she trembled—either from expectancy or from the arctic wind; she couldn’t be sure which. When she thought Jed’s lips might finally touch hers, as his strong hands took hold of her shoulders and Joanna’s eyes fluttered shut, she sighed through her nose—an exhale twenty years in the making. The oddest sensation came over her. It felt like falling. Not out of a hayloft this time, but into a similar emotional abyss. A real kiss from Jed Weatherly would be well worth the wait, she felt certain.

  The sweet sensation of falling turned to one swift thud! as Jed kissed the top of her head and chuckled as he released her.

  Sarah had large mugs of hot cocoa waiting for them when they returned, delighting Joanna when she topped them with sputtering mounds of whipped cream and shavings of dark chocolate.

  “You two enjoy your cocoa,” she said, replacing the can of whipped cream into the refrigerator door. “There’s a hot bath and another chapter of a good book with my name all over them.”

  She kissed each of their cheeks and headed for the hallway. Just as she reached it, she turned back and shot them a very serious expression. “I’m just two doors down, you know. Voices carry in this old cathedral.”

  “Yes, mother,” Jed joked.

  “Don’t forget it.”

  “Goodnight, Sarah.” Joanna chuckled.

  “I’ll be awake for a while yet,” she reminded them.

  By the time her bedroom door clicked shut, Joanna turned back to find Jed crouched at the fireplace, stoking the blaze with an iron poker before tossing two more logs inside. She fetched their hot chocolates, set the mugs on the coffee table in front of the oversized leather sofa, and folded one leg beneath her as she fell into the cushions.

  They remained silent, each of them nursing th
eir warm beverages by the glow of a crackling fire and dim yellow lamplight. Joanna wiped a rogue dollop of cream from her nose before blowing into the cup several times. Still, the cocoa burned her tongue at first sip.

  “So,” she said, once she’d recovered. “Montana?”

  “That’s where the offer is.”

  “It’s so far away.”

  “Beautiful country though.”

  “Have you already been?” She set her mug on the table to give it time to cool.

  “Once. One of a couple of bonding trips my dad took me on.”

  “How old were you then?”

  “Eight? Before he came to work here. We went to Glacier National Park and did some hiking and fishing, saw some spectacular mountain ranges.”

  Joanna smiled. “I remember you and your dad being very close.”

  “We were. I wish we’d had longer.”

  Mornings with her mama in the adjacent kitchen skittered across her mind. “I know what you mean.”

  Jed hadn’t taken a single day off since he’d gone to work at the Triple Z, a fact which helped to eliminate all traces of guilt that morning when he phoned Randy to say he needed to take one now. On his way out the door the night before, Joanna had turned on the charm when she asked if he might be free to search the property for a tall Christmas tree with her. In the spirit of wasting no time—and giving her no time in which to reconsider the request—he’d agreed.“How about tomorrow? We’ll make a day of it, if you want. Maybe go into town for some lunch afterward.”

  Even though they’d decided he would stop by around eleven to pick her up, Jed had gone out to the stable at seven that morning to prepare the horses and wagon for their ride. He’d showered, shaved, and dressed, and had been tapping his boot on the leg of the coffee table for half an hour or more. He was on his third cup of coffee and second blueberry muffin, which he’d poached from the kitchen before leaving the main house after midnight. His mom had more than a dozen of them under the glass dome on the counter in preparation of first- and second-string breakfasts the next morning, and he’d told Joanna he figured she wouldn’t miss a few, knowing full well she ran a tight ship and counted every one. But clear thinking had been eradicated by the brown sugar crumble on the top of those muffins.

  The clock on the dash read 10:57 as he pulled his truck in front of the house, and the thermometer on the porch hovered just above twenty degrees when he walked through the door a few minutes later. “You said around eleven,” Joanna joked when she saw him. “It’s one minute till.”

  “And your point?”

  “No point. Just an observation.”

  “So I’m punctual.” He removed her coat from the peg on the wall and held it for her. “Ready to go?”

  “No greeting for your mother?” Sarah asked from the kitchen.

  He smiled at her as Joanna shrugged into the sleeves of her coat. “Kiss your mother,” she said, producing soft pink gloves and a matching beanie from her pockets.

  Jed closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around his mom and squeezed. “Good morning, Mother.”

  “Good morning, Son. Enjoy those muffins, did you?”

  “Very much. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

  “Why would I? I tend to feed you most mornings anyway, don’t I?”

  “And they were delicious.” He kissed her cheek. “We’re going for a ride to shop the property for a Christmas tree. And we’ll probably have lunch at the Bluegrass Bistro in town—maybe get back here late in the afternoon to set up the tree.”

  “You know, you can buy a tree from the Monty family’s grove out off the State Road,” she announced to them both. “That’s much warmer than saddling up horses and going out into the cold on a day like this.”

  “But, Sarah,” Joanna objected as she tamed her wild waves by tugging the beanie onto her head, “it wouldn’t be the same as cutting it down right here on the ranch like we used to.”

  Sarah and Jed exchanged suppressed smiles. “All right then,” Jed’s mother said. “I’ll have everything ready for tree-trimming upon your return.”

  Joanna beamed. “Thank you so much.”

  “Bundle up,” she called to them as they headed out the door. “It’s going to be very cold again today.”

  Jed reached around and turned Joanna’s collar upright. “Shall we drive to the stable?”

  “Oh no.” She produced a dark-pink, infinity scarf with flashes of metallic silver in it. Pulling it over her beanie-compressed head like a hood, she turned and grinned at him. “Let’s walk. This is exciting, isn’t it?”

  Jed smiled at her exuberance. He’d forgotten that childlike quality Joanna had displayed from youth. She’d always been the one in the room to raise everyone’s spirits, always the first to see the brighter side of a near-impossible situation. But that joyful naiveté had all but disappeared after her mother’s death, and he’d seen no signs of it through the time she’d announced her plans to leave the horse farm and search for something else—in Indiana, of all places.

  “Anything new from your sisters?” he asked as they headed for the stable, the ground crunching beneath their boots.

  “I spoke to Sophie this morning. I pulled the come-see-Matt card in hopes that reminding her of your cousin’s presence might entice her. But she didn’t make any promises. Amy’s avoiding the conversation altogether, although it looks like I do have her son on my side. And Bella . . . now she’s making noises about David wanting them to spend Christmas with his family, but I’m not buying it. She’s wanted to break up with him for months now. She has no intention of spending Christmas with him and his family. She’s just trying to make excuses.”

  “They’ve been together a long time, haven’t they? Maybe she’s had second thoughts about the split.”

  Joanna sighed noisily. “Personally, I think she’s a fool. David is the sweetest guy on the planet for putting up with her nonsense. She’s crazy to think about turning him loose.”

  “To each their own.” But for Joanna’s sake, he hoped at least Isabella would make the trek back home. The two of them had always been so close. Joanna would need Bella’s support when it came time to say good-bye to the old homestead.

  They reached the stable, and Jed yanked back the wide door. A couple of long noses protruded over stall doors to greet them.

  “I didn’t realize before,” she said as they entered. “This barn really needs a few coats of paint.”

  “As soon as spring rears its beautiful head, the guys will be on that.”

  She clucked softly. “I guess I didn’t need to tell you, did I? You’re on the ball with everything around here.”

  “I want you to tell me,” he said seriously. “We’ll make it a team effort to get you top dollar for the place.”

  She touched his sleeve, and he turned to look at her. “Thank you, Jed. I’m so grateful for you.”

  He covered her gloved hand with his own and nodded. “Ready to ride?”

  “More than.”

  “I thought we could hitch up the wagon to—”

  “Oh no. I’d really like to go on horseback, if you don’t mind.”

  “Once we find the right tree and cut it down, it’ll be easier to—”

  “Can’t we just rope it to one of the horses like we used to, and let them drag it home?” She looked up at him with those hopeful eyes. “I know it probably seems silly to you, but I want to do it the way we did when we were still a family.”

  Jed sighed. “Let’s saddle up then. I’ll be your family today.”

  She squeezed his arm. “Jed, you’ve always been my family. You know that.”

  He hadn’t known. But it soothed his heart to hear her say it.

  Chapter Seven

  On the ridge over there,” Joanna called over her shoulder, and Jed laughed.

  Joanna had been leading the way ever since they left the stable. Jed wasn’t about to ask her to slow down or to let on how challenging it was to catch up to her. She’d sai
d she hadn’t been in the saddle since leaving the farm, but no one would know it to look at her. That Morgan she’d chosen to ride—Maranatha’s grandson, Big Red—was in his element, too, as his rider gave enthusiastic permission to let loose into a full gallop. Those two were a perfect match.

  “Over here,” Joanna called out into the cold, and by the time Jed reached the top of the ridge, she’d climbed down and led Big Red by the reins toward a cluster of evergreens. “What about that one over there? I noticed it right off.”

  Jed dismounted and removed the metal tape measure from his pocket. “That’s gotta be twenty feet tall, Jo-Jo. And so bushy, we won’t be able to get it in the front door.”

  “We couldn’t trim it?”

  Rather than trying to reason with her, he simply moved to a smaller tree a dozen yards back and extended the tape measure upward. “This one’s more like it,” he said. “Fifteen feet, with a few feet to spare at the base. What do you think?”

  He expected a bit of push back. Instead, Joanna answered with a straightforward decisiveness that astonished him. “Yep. That’s the one. Where’s the axe?”

  She’d vetoed his intent to haul a chainsaw along when they were setting out that morning. “Do you know how much longer it will take with an axe?” he pointed out, but she’d stood her ground.

  “Tuck used an axe. I want to do it like we did when I was little.”

  He’d had his doubts, but Joanna held her own out there amidst the pines, giving a play-by-play as if Jed was her student in the art of safely cutting down a Christmas tree. She took the axe from him.

  “Cut a notch on one side,” she said, whacking the tree. “Now one on the other side. Now the first horizontal cut—” This chop pushed a strange and noisy groan out of her that seemed to originate beneath her ribs and move on the steam of raw emotion.

  Jed stepped closer and tried to remove the axe from her hand, but her grip remained tight. “It’s my turn,” he told her. Joanna maintained her grip, and Jed gently peeled one finger away, and then another. “This is a team sport, remember?”