His Christmas Sweetheart

by Cathy McDavid

  Will was suddenly not looking forward to the rest of his workday.

  Sam studied him. “Something happen I should know about?”

  “Nothing.”

  What was there worth mentioning? That the gal had flirted with Will, and he’d been indifferent? Knowing Sam, he’d be far more interested in the reason for Will’s indifference. He’d pin the blame on Miranda and Will’s attraction to her. Sam would also be right, to a degree. Although Will’s ex-fiancée had also done her fair share of damage long ago.

  “Have you thought any more about the town’s offer?” Sam asked.

  Evidently Will’s respite was at an end. He should have figured as much when Sam had shown up unannounced. Deprive Will of the opportunity to prepare.

  The tension coursing through Will intensified. “You just asked me two nights ago.”

  “You’ve had more time to consider.”

  “My answer’s the same.”

  “Classes don’t start until the second week of February. Take your time.”

  “Put your weight on your right foot,” Will called to Trevor. When the boy’s rope landed closer to the plastic calf head, Will asked, “Feel the difference?”

  Trevor whooped with delight at his accomplishment. Demi tried, missed, scowled and tried again, doing better than Trevor. She also whooped and delivered a victory punch in the arm to her brother.

  “About the offer—”

  “More time won’t change my mind.”

  “The town needs you,” Sam went on, pitching the job to Will with skill that would shame a telephone solicitor.

  Will’s chest slowly compressed as if someone were pushing a fist into his sternum, and the skin across his face felt tight as heat flooded his cheeks.

  Not now. He closed his eyes. Not in front of Sam.

  Guilt. It was triggering another panic attack. The therapists, all three that he’d counseled with over the years, had warned him about the dangers of getting into situations similar to the one that had started the attacks at sixteen.

  Fear of disappointing people. Of not being there when they needed him. Of letting them die when he might have saved them.

  Only through sheer concentration was he able to bring the panic attack under control.

  “More time might not change your mind, but you’re going to get it. We’re willing to wait.” Sam didn’t stop there. “What about the volunteer fire department? Can we count on you? Training starts soon.”

  “Where does it take place?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Kind of.” Breathe. Relax. Stay calm.

  Sam gazed quizzically at Will. “Here at the ranch. And at the West 47 Forest Station. In the mountains near Grey Rock Point and the test fire sites we’ve selected.”

  Will could possibly handle that. And if he agreed to serve as a volunteer firefighter, Sam might lay off him about becoming an EMT.

  Then again, he might pressure Will even more. But as a volunteer firefighter, he’d be part of a team. That was why he’d done so well at the hospital.

  “Maybe.”

  “Great.” Sam clapped Will on the back. “I’ll tell Cliff.”

  “That wasn’t a yes.”

  “Close enough to one.”

  Will was in a losing battle, so he changed the subject. “Did the wedding party return from town yet?”

  “About twenty minutes ago.”

  “Come on, Trevor, Demi,” he hollered. “Quitting time.”

  “You can’t get out of it that easy.” Sam sent him an incriminating look.

  “The lesson’s over.”

  “Don’t think you can stop caring about people by avoiding them. Not grow attached to a place by staying away. Trust me. That’s not how it works. I tried for nine years, then came back to Sweetheart and Annie.”

  His was probably right, but Will was going to try anyway.

  “I get it,” Sam said. “Something happened to you. Something you don’t want to talk about. But if you ever feel the need, I’m available.”

  Of everyone Will was acquainted with, Sam would be his first choice for a confidant. When he was ready. Should that day ever come.

  “Thanks.”

  Sam nodded briskly and left, disappearing into the barn. Will appreciated what his boss hadn’t said more than what he had.

  Trevor stomped over to retrieve his rope from the practice dummy, his sneakers smacking the hard ground. “Aw, do I have to?”

  Will half expected the boy to throw a tantrum. He didn’t. Will went to him and patted him on the head. “Good job.”

  Demi hugged Will around the waist. “Can we do this again tomorrow?”

  “If your parents say it’s okay.” Will had a full schedule, but he’d find the time.

  It was easy for him to show affection to these two. They were leaving soon, making them emotionally safe. Same as the guests he took on trail rides. He could be friendly, generous and even open. All because he wouldn’t see them again.

  He’d see the folks of Sweetheart again. And if he suffered a panic attack during an emergency call that resulted in a loss or death, he’d have to face them over and over, knowing what they thought of him. Feeling their disappointment. He couldn’t live with that, and leaving would be his only option.

  Run away. As he always did. Miranda had pegged him to a T.

  One more reason he wasn’t the man for her.

  After showing the kids where and how to stow their lariats, Will escorted them to their family’s guest cabin. He had about two hours to kill before Doc Murry, the local vet, arrived to treat a horse with an infected tooth. Will could head to his trailer and grab a leisurely lunch. There were also plenty of chores around the ranch needing doing, and he didn’t mind the overtime.

  Don’t think you can stop caring about people by avoiding them. Not grow attached to a place by staying away. Trust me. That’s not how it works.

  Sam was right. Will hadn’t and couldn’t stop caring no matter how hard he tried.

  The proof came five minutes later when his cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but the voice that responded to his hello was unmistakable.

  “Hi, Arthur.”

  “Will, I hate to impose, but is there any chance you can come by the house? It’s Leonora.”

  Mrs. Litey? “Is something wrong?”

  “She’s having a fit. Worse than usual. Miranda isn’t here and Nell can’t handle her. Which is saying a lot as that woman could milk a rattlesnake with one hand while flipping pancakes with the other.”

  Against his better judgment, Will said, “I’ll be right there,” and took off to let Luiz, the head ranch hand, know he’d be back soon.

  At least he hoped he would.

  * * *

  MIRANDA OPENED THE door. Will stood there, the startled expression he wore every time he saw her firmly in place. “I didn’t expect to see you here today,” he said.

  That made two of them. She leaned against the doorjamb and assessed him critically. “This is my house.”

  “What I meant was...” He winced guiltily. “Arthur said you were at the Paydirt.”

  She put him out of his misery and retreated from the doorway, letting him inside. A large tree stand blocked his path. “Watch your step. Himey almost took a header earlier. I’ve had to banish him, Mr. Lexington and Crackers to the kitchen. Nell’s keeping guard.”

  “This is some obstacle course.”

  Will maneuvered around and over the dozens of boxes containing Christmas decorations spread throughout the room, many with their colorful contents spilling onto the floor. Christmas had officially arrived at Harmony House.

  “I blame my parents,” she clarified. “With so many different children from so many different cultural
and religious backgrounds, we grew up celebrating every December holiday.”

  The decorations also gave the place a pleasing, homey appearance and cheered Miranda. Her residents, too. Except, apparently, for Mrs. Litey.

  “Arthur confessed that he called you.” Though Miranda wouldn’t dare admit it, she was secretly glad. She and Will hadn’t spoken since their kiss the other day, and she was fairly certain he’d been avoiding her.

  “He sounded desperate.”

  “And you were at the Paydirt,” Arthur said, coming to his own defense. He and Babs were stationed in front of the TV. Miranda had insisted the volume be kept at a reasonable level.

  “I got off early. Business was slow.” She took both Will’s hat and sheepskin-lined jacket. “These will be on the coatrack when you’re ready to leave. And, as for you, Arthur...” She wagged a finger at him, purely for show.

  He shrugged in apology, his hand, as always, firmly clasping Babs’s. “No one can calm Leonora like Will.”

  “How is she?” Will asked.

  “Being exceptionally contrary today.” Miranda released a tired sigh. “She refuses to let me or Nell clean her room, won’t touch even the tiniest morsel of food and refuses to take her medication. There’s a large slice of rhubarb pie with your name on it if you can convince her to cooperate.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Crackers!” Nell called from the kitchen. “Get back here.”

  The terrier was quicker than the caretaker. He bolted into the front room and straight for Will, who bent and scratched the dog behind the ears, calling him a good boy.

  Why couldn’t he greet Miranda with the same affection? Not scratch her ears, but a warm glance would be nice. They’d locked lips after all, and pretty heatedly. Surely that warranted an intimate exchange.

  Miranda suppressed a shiver of excitement just recalling the feel and taste of him. She’d especially enjoyed the way he had assumed control, covering her body with his as he had pushed her into the hitching post. If only she could get him alone today.

  Next to impossible with a houseful of people.

  “We heard the contest winners arrived at the ranch and are making their way through town.” Arthur was clearly attempting to divert her attention away from himself.

  He had no need to worry. Will had already done that by simply standing there.

  “Yes, sir,” he said.

  “Bet things are hopping at the ranch.”

  “I love the Gold Nugget.” Babs leaned forward in her wheelchair. “Haven’t been there in ages.”

  “I’ll take you.” Arthur’s smile was besotted.

  They were simply adorable. Truth be told, Miranda was kind of jealous.

  “Me, go to the ranch?” Babs patted the armrest of her wheelchair. “In this contraption?”

  “Miranda will drive us.” Arthur’s glance was filled with hope.

  Not a bad idea, she thought. “We’ll see.”

  “Will can give us a tour.”

  “Name the day,” he responded agreeably.

  Did he realize she would be there, too?

  “I thought maybe I scared you off for good,” she said when they were finally alone and walking down the hall.

  “Almost.”

  Was that a joke? He was so damned hard to read sometimes. She snuck a peek at him from beneath lowered lashes and decided no. The set of that exquisite mouth was much too serious.

  “Surprise, Mrs. Litey. You have a visitor.” Miranda moved aside so that the older woman could see Will from where she sat in her chair.

  Her face, frozen with displeasure since the moment she’d awoke that morning, brightened. “Joseph! You’re back.” Struggling to her feet, she hurried to him and threw her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  “Mom.” He enveloped her in a tender hug and patted her thinning white hair.

  Tears welled in Miranda’s eyes and she blinked them away. Really, she was such a sap.

  But who could blame her? Will possessed a heart of gold, even if he tried to hide it. For elderly women with Alzheimer’s anyway.

  “Perhaps you’re hungry,” Miranda said, hoping he remembered that Mrs. Litey hadn’t eaten all day.

  “Yeah, I am. What about you, Mom?”

  “Of course you want to eat. You must be starving after that long drive. Were the roads bad? It’s been snowing.” The elderly woman’s gaze darted to and fro, confusion enveloping her like a thick fog. “I haven’t been to this restaurant before. Perhaps we need to look at a menu. Miss, can you bring us some menus, please?” she appealed to Miranda. “And two glasses of ice water.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Before leaving, Miranda paused and motioned to Will. From behind the shield of her hand, she pointed to the nightstand and the small paper cup containing Mrs. Litey’s pills. Sitting beside them was a glass of juice.

  He nodded in understanding.

  She made a beeline for the kitchen, relief coursing through her. Mrs. Litey had the ability to shake up the entire household, making it hard on everyone. The days were rough, the evenings nearly impossible. The slightest thing could set her off. Miranda found herself biting her lip more than once during Mrs. Litey’s “sundowning” episodes—which had decreased in frequency since Will had started visiting her but not ceased.

  “From the sounds of it, you’ve got company.” Nell abandoned stirring a pot of stew on the stove when Miranda entered the kitchen.

  “Not me, Mrs. Litey.”

  “Right.” Nell drew the word out over several beats.

  “Right,” Himey repeated, copying Nell’s grin. “We all know that young man is here to see you.” He was sitting at the table, shuffling a deck of cards but not playing.

  Miranda wished Will was here to see her. “Her Highness would like menus. I think she’ll be okay if I just bring food. Something simple.”

  “I have leftover tuna from lunch yesterday.” Nell opened the refrigerator door. “She likes tuna.”

  “Remember she thinks they’re in a restaurant.”

  “I’ll cut the sandwiches into quarters. Fancy up the plates and add that broccoli salad.”

  “May I have a sandwich, too?” Himey pestered Nell endlessly as she prepared the light meal.

  Miranda busied herself checking email on her phone. When Nell was finished, Miranda carried the tray to Mrs. Litey’s room, mentally counting her blessings. What would she do without Nell?

  Without Will.

  The scene that greeted Miranda elicited a wave of relief. Mrs. Litey and Will sat in the chairs, conversing quietly. The paper cup containing the pills was empty, a dip of his head confirming they’d been taken.

  Miranda set the tray on the small table between them. “Here you go.” She divvied up the plates, napkins and plastic tableware.

  When Will took his, their fingers brushed. He instantly pulled back.

  Miranda would have none of that, and made sure their fingers brushed again. Will visibly tensed, and she congratulated herself. He would not get off that easy.

  “Thank you, miss,” Mrs. Litey said, sweet as molasses. “I love tuna fish.”

  “You’re welcome. Just holler if you need anything else.”

  Miranda didn’t let it bother her that Mrs. Litey had no idea who she was. It happened all the time. To family members, as well. Mrs. Litey’s brother, Reverend Donahue, a retired minister living in Carson City, called weekly. She rarely recognized him and insisted on knowing who the stranger was who kept pestering her.

  Miranda felt sorry for the man. The poignant conversations he had with her afterward always tugged at her heartstrings. He loved his sister dearly and would do anything he could for her.

  Returning to the task of converting the house into a holiday wonderland, she
cleared the side table beneath the picture window. In place of knickknacks, she set up a musical Christmas village. Skating figurines and lit miniature streetlamps were always a hit with the residents and guests. Arthur and Babs volunteered suggestions from across the room. Miranda only half listened.

  Arthur’s daily visits didn’t bother her, although she often thought, as much as he was here and as often as she fed him, she should charge him a fee. Then she’d look at him and Babs together and her resolve would fly out the window. They were so fond of each other. She couldn’t deny Babs this one pleasure in a life that was otherwise filled with hardships.

  Watching them reminded her of Will. What didn’t remind her of him? Regardless of how long his visit with Mrs. Litey lasted and how quickly he needed to return to the ranch, she was going to delay him for a chat. They couldn’t continue ignoring the kiss.

  While deliberating how best to corner him—a piece of pie might do the trick—she accidentally dropped a tiny dog figurine. It fell behind the side table. Great. Crackers would root out the figurine and chew it to pieces.

  Dropping to her hands and knees, she swept her hand over the braided rug. Where the heck was the figurine?

  “What happened?” Arthur asked.

  “Missing dog. No worries, I’ll find it.”

  “Need help?” Will posed the question, not Arthur.

  Startled, Miranda sat up, lowering her hind end she’d been waving in the air mere seconds earlier.

  “Um...” Maybe she should forgo the chat.

  “She dropped a dog.” Was Arthur ever quiet?

  Will’s eyes widened.

  “A dog figurine,” Miranda clarified.

  “Find it?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Give the girl some help, why don’t you?” Arthur’s suggestion smacked of meddling.

  Babs giggled like a schoolgirl.

  Miranda wanted to bury her face in the crook of her arm. This couldn’t go any worse.

  To her dismay, Will joined her on the floor. With his much longer arm, he reached beneath the side table to where the rug met the wall. She was on the verge of telling him not to bother when he straightened, the dog figurine scissored in his fingers.