The Rancher's Christmas Match

by Brenda Minton

  “What’s the matter, Max, couldn’t sleep?” He stopped, breathing in the cool, late fall air. It was autumn for only two more weeks; then it would officially be winter.

  He didn’t care about official dates. The weather was pure winter. The clouds had that heavy look of snow and the air felt damp with humidity. He buttoned his jacket as he walked. Looking down was a mistake, though. When he raised his head, the world spun a little.

  He waited for things to settle, then he continued his walk. The main house was lit up and he the smell of bacon wafted on the breeze, luring him in that direction. From inside the house he could hear music. Maria, he guessed, would have arrived already. She would be fixing breakfast, starting the day’s chores. He could sure handle breakfast that someone else cooked.

  As he stepped through the back door the aromas of cinnamon and bacon greeted him. He wiped his boots on the rug in the utility porch and hung his hat on the rack next to the door. He could hear voices in the kitchen. Maria and someone else, a soft and familiar voice. He reached for his hat, thinking it might be better if he left. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see Rebecca, not with his emotions so raw after his dream.

  “My mom made cinnamon rolls.” A younger voice piped up behind him.

  “You really should stop sneaking up on people.”

  Allie grinned at his warning. “You should pay more attention. Is it because you couldn’t hear me?”

  “Yeah, and I was focused on something else.” He looked away, not wanting to relive the dream.

  He obviously wasn’t going to escape. She stayed right with him as he took off his coat.

  “What are you doing up so early?” he asked.

  “My mom promised me cinnamon rolls. And I have school today. Miss Kylie is picking me up. Mom is going to try to open the salon for part of the day.”

  “Is she really?” He headed into the kitchen, the nine-year-old jabbering about cinnamon rolls and Jersey.

  They were already part of the Mercy Ranch family, she and her mother. That’s the way it was with the ranch, with Jack and the people he took in. Isaac told himself it was that simple. It wasn’t because Rebecca was getting under his skin. It certainly wasn’t because Allie should be someone’s daughter. Someone ought to be there to look out for the two of them, take them to church. Someone. But not him. Definitely not Greg.

  “Yeah, she’s excited. She said because it’s Monday, more people might be in town. And even though everything isn’t ready, people might come in.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  “Hey, what are you two up to?” Rebecca asked, as they entered the kitchen together.

  “Talking about you opening your salon today.” Isaac gave her a questioning look that she wouldn’t answer, not with Allie right there.

  In his opinion, she shouldn’t be there alone. But he realized a friend’s opinion didn’t count for much.

  “I thought, no time like the present.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s true. What’s Maria cooking up?”

  “Bacon and eggs and toast, Isaac,” Maria called out from her place at the stove. She didn’t bother looking at him. “Do you need some tea?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “Thought that might be why you were here so early and not at the barn. Or you smelled my bacon cooking.”

  “Both.” He avoided making eye contact with Rebecca.

  Maria wiped her hands on a towel and grabbed the teakettle. “The tea is in the usual place in the cabinet, above the toaster.”

  “Got it.” He pulled the jar out.

  “Okay, I’ll get the water going. You know how to make the tea. And breakfast is ready. I’m going to do some laundry.”

  “Thanks, Maria.”

  “You’re welcome.” She patted his cheek before she turned to leave. “Oh, if you don’t mind, I need some outside decorations put up. The wreath for the front door, twinkle lights and the outdoor nativity scene.”

  “I don’t mind at all. It might have to wait a few hours.”

  “Of course.”

  He glanced at the food Maria had placed in warming trays on the counter. It would be there for any of the men who came in looking for breakfast. He realized he wasn’t as ready to eat as he’d thought, so he bypassed the main dishes and grabbed a slice of toast.

  The teakettle whistled and Rebecca got to it first, pouring boiling water into the cup that held the herbal tea Kylie kept on hand for him.

  “This smells so good. What is it?” she asked, as the tea steeped.

  “Peppermint, feverfew, chamomile and I’m not sure what else.” He inhaled the scent from the brew. “But I’ve never thought of it as good.”

  “Have a seat. I’ll finish it up for you.” Rebecca pointed to a chair at the island. “You don’t look so great.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  A car honked outside. He glanced at the clock. “It’s awfully early for school.”

  “Carson is taking the kids out to breakfast at the café.”

  “And missing out on cinnamon rolls?” Isaac teased.

  Allie hugged him, taking him by surprise. “Feel better.”

  “Thanks, Allie.” He smoothed a hand down the back of her head. “You’re okay. Even if you are always sneaking up on me.”

  She laughed. “I think you’re okay, too. You’re like a dad.”

  His heart thudded hard and he glanced up to find Rebecca watching, a stricken expression on her face. Allie didn’t notice their looks or the awkward silence. She’d dropped that bombshell, grabbed her backpack and lunch box and hurried out the back door with Jersey at her side. He watched as Carson’s truck stopped in the driveway.

  “I have to walk her out,” Rebecca said. She put his tea in front of him and then she was gone.

  Isaac leaned over the cup, holding it tight with both hands. After a few minutes he took a cautious sip. And another. His head pounded and if he moved too quickly, the world spun for a few seconds.

  The back door banged shut and footsteps heralded Rebecca’s return to the kitchen. He took another sip of the tea and prayed the awkward moment would be ignored and she wouldn’t feel like talking about what her daughter had said. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk emotions.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, as she entered the kitchen. “She just...”

  He held up a hand to stop her. “She’s a little girl who wants a dad. I’m no poster child for fatherhood, but I’m here. End of story.”

  “That isn’t true,” she argued.

  “Isn’t it?”

  She rummaged in a drawer, bottom lip between her teeth, and he wondered if she was trying not to cry. He wasn’t going to ask, because if he was avoiding emotion, that would be the worst thing to do. Instead he drank his tea as she went from drawer to drawer.

  “Can I help you find something?” he asked.

  She shook her head. She had a towel in her hand, a small vial of lavender and a clear plastic baggie. He watched as she filled the bag with ice, got the towel damp, added drops of the oil and then wrapped it around the bag.

  The stove timer went off. She tossed the towel concoction on the counter and removed the cinnamon rolls. His appetite suddenly perked up.

  He wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll.

  Rebecca picked up the towel and moved around behind him.

  “Lean forward,” she ordered.

  He glanced back at her. “Do what?”

  “Cross your arms and lean forward on them. I don’t know if this will help but it’s worth a try.”

  He did what she’d asked and she placed the cold towel across the back of his neck. The scent of lavender floated around him. He’d always considered himself a manly guy, but he didn’t mind a little bit of pampering from time to time. This felt a lot like being pampered.

&n
bsp; As he rested his head, she stood behind him, making him a little nervous. Then her fingers settled on his ears and she began to massage.

  “Something I learned from a friend,” she told him.

  “I’m glad.” He closed his eyes as her hands moved to his temples and circled lightly.

  “What brought the headache on?”

  “Nightmare,” he admitted. He hadn’t planned on telling her, but the tea and the lavender had relaxed him. “I punched Joe when he tried to wake me.”

  She laughed a little. “I’m sorry, that isn’t funny. But I can imagine his surprise.”

  “Yeah.” Isaac drew in a deep breath as she moved her hands to his shoulders. “Where have you been all my life?”

  “Stop it,” she whispered.

  She was right.

  “I don’t think you should go to the shop alone.”

  Her hands stilled and then they were gone. “I have to go. I can’t let him control what I do or don’t do. If I’m going to live here, I have to open the salon. If I’m not going to open it, I might as well admit I’m a coward and leave town.”

  “You’re not a coward.” He sat back up, the headache now the faintest throb. “You’re a woman who’s determined to succeed. I get that. But you can’t put your life in jeopardy. Let’s give the police a few days to find him.”

  “We have no way of knowing where he’s hiding. I can’t put off opening the place. I signed a contract with Jack to start a business. That means I have to open it.”

  “Jack understands what’s going on, that your life is in danger.”

  Rebecca had moved around the island from him. She placed two cinnamon rolls on plates and slid one in front of him.

  “You really should eat something.” She met his gaze, unwavering and strong. Her warm chocolate eyes drew him in, holding him captive.

  “Rebecca,” he started.

  She shook her head. “I have to go. I have to make this work.”

  “I understand. We all have to fight our battles the best way we know how.”

  At that moment he was battling what was a definite attraction to the woman standing across from him.

  It was a battle he was losing.

  * * *

  He’d been sitting in front of her salon for an hour. She’d seen him pull up and thought he might come in. She’d been ready for him, planning exactly what she’d say should he walk through the door.

  She’d also managed to give Mattie, the former owner of Mattie’s Café, a perm. She wanted to look nice at the Christmas parade on Saturday. Yes, it would be dark, but a woman couldn’t just neglect her appearance. Not even a woman in her seventh decade, Mattie had informed Rebecca.

  She chatted with Mattie about the church Christmas program, how pretty the lights around town looked and the way Jack had decorated Lakeside Resort. She dodged any questions about her family. Grove was a good thirty miles away. That didn’t mean that people didn’t know the Barneses.

  “Now I know you’re not listening,” Mattie said. At the same time she glanced in the mirror and turned her head first right and then left. Her gray curls were cut just above her shoulders and she patted them and smiled. “You aren’t listening, but you did a mighty fine job with these old curls of mine. I look like that actress. I can’t remember her name, but she has gray, curly hair.”

  “You look beautiful, Mattie,” Rebecca told the woman. She handed her a mirror so she could examine the back.

  “Well, I think you’re going to be a welcome addition to this town. Since Janice Tucker retired, we’ve had to drive twenty minutes to get our hair done or do it ourselves. And you saw the result of that.”

  Mattie’s hair had been a little uneven.

  “It wasn’t bad,” she told the older woman.

  “Now that isn’t quite true.” Mattie looked toward the front of the shop. “Is that why you’re distracted?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  Mattie handed her back the mirror. “Isaac West has been sitting out there in his truck. He has his hat pulled down and appears to be asleep. But every now and then he looks this way. And every now and then you sigh. He’s a lot like his daddy. Or a lot like Jack is now and the way Jack could have been if he hadn’t spent twenty-some years of his life living in the bottle and fighting mad. The problem with Isaac is he thinks he’s a carbon copy of Jack. Full stop.”

  “They are alike.” Rebecca hoped she could say that much and not get dragged further into the conversation.

  But Mattie liked to talk. “Oh, he’s as good-looking as his daddy. All three of those boys look like Jack. They couldn’t deny him and he can’t deny them. His daughter, Daisy, also looks like Jack, but prettier.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Rebecca mumbled, reaching for her hair spray. “I’m going to give this a touch of spray. Close your eyes.”

  Mattie did, but kept on talking. “I thought he’d get married to the Davis girl. He dated her in high school.”

  “Umm-hmm.” Rebecca applied the light mist.

  “He had a flashback, right out in front of the café. Someone said it had to do with fireworks. Or one of those things teenagers like to set off that you can hear in three counties.”

  “He was in Vietnam, wasn’t he?” Rebecca asked.

  Mattie opened her eyes. Their gazes met in the reflection of the mirror. “Oh, honey, I wasn’t talking about Jack. I was talking about Isaac. He loved that girl. But he broke things off with her. When he heard that explosion, he pushed her to the ground, trying to keep her safe. Jack said he doubts Isaac will ever let another woman in his life. He was that upset he’d hurt the Davis girl. Ruth was her name. Good girl. Ended up married to a doctor in Tulsa.” Mattie grabbed her purse and pulled out several twenties. “You keep the change.”

  And then she hugged Rebecca and was gone.

  Rebecca walked to the front of the salon, glad for the break. She knew people were being kind, but it was noon and she’d been busy since she opened at nine. She studied the man in the truck and knew he was watching her, even though his head was down and his hat pulled low.

  For a moment she thought about going out there and telling him to go home. But then she thought about how noble it was, that he’d been sitting out there all this time. Keeping her safe. She picked up her phone and called Mattie’s Café. Holly answered.

  “Holly, I’d like to place an order and I wondered if it could be delivered.”

  “Well, of course. I’ve noticed you’ve been busy over there. I hope you’re able to take an afternoon customer. I think I’ll have a break around two.”

  “Holly, your hair is beautiful. You don’t need to have a thing done and we both know that.”

  “Dead ends, honey. You know how that keeps a girl’s hair from growing.”

  Rebecca shook her head, even though Holly couldn’t see.

  “What is it you want delivered?” Holly asked.

  “It isn’t for me,” she admitted. “See the stubborn cowboy in the truck, sitting in front of my salon and scaring off well-meaning citizens?”

  “The overprotective one with the black cowboy hat?”

  “That’s the one. Could you deliver him his favorite lunch, and I’ll pay you for it?”

  Holly laughed for a good minute. “You bet I will. Honey, you sure are making this town more interesting.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “And what about you? Your favorite chef salad?” Holly asked.

  “Yes, thanks, that would be good.”

  The call ended. Isaac shifted a bit and she knew he was watching. She blew him a kiss and walked off, smiling all the while.

  Not fifteen minutes later, as she was tidying her work area, the door opened. When she turned to look, she stopped sweeping because it wasn’t Holly stopping in to get paid for the delivery. Isaac lifted a bag that held take-out containers.


  “Did you order me lunch?” he asked.

  “Someone has to take care of you,” she told him. She opened the utility closet and placed the broom on the hook. “You know you don’t have to stand guard.”

  “I kind of feel as if I do. For Allie’s sake. She needs you.”

  Rebecca thought of the woman he’d dated, the one everyone had thought he might marry. She wondered if it had broken his heart when he broke things off with her. It probably had. He was that kind of man, the kind who pretended he was tough as nails and could handle anything—which he likely could. But he also probably loved with the same loyalty that he gave to his friends.

  She felt a stirring of envy that she quickly tamped down.

  “Rebecca?”

  The question drew her back to the present. He stood there studying her as if he hadn’t quite figured out what to do with her.

  “I’m sorry. Lost in thought.”

  “I brought our lunch. Thank you for ordering.”

  “You’re welcome. And thank you for watching out for me. I do appreciate it. I just know that you have better things to do with your time.”

  “Better things than sitting outside your salon watching you work? I don’t think so.”

  “That’s a little creepy,” she teased.

  “I’m just saying, it wasn’t just a bad deal for me.”

  She walked away from him. “I don’t want you to feel as if you’re responsible for me. I know we live on the ranch and Mercy Ranch is a family. I just... This morning, what Allie said...”

  “I know.”

  He knew. She wished this could have been simple. She wished they had met, gone their separate ways, seeing each other from time to time as they passed at the café or even at church.

  Instead, they were tangled up in one another’s lives, and Allie was the other thread, the most important and fragile thread.

  Fortunately, the chime over the door announced another customer, and Rebecca left him sitting with his club sandwich while she tended to his aunt Lola’s hair.

  But as she leaned his aunt back to wash her hair, her attention slid to the cowboy sitting across the room, his jean-clad legs stretched out in front of him. He was watching her and his expression held her for a moment.