“Maybe I was looking forward to seeing you.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded and peeled back the tamale wrapper with her fork. Should she not have said that? Was it too bold?
“That was the downside, certainly.” He reached over and covered her hand with his. “I thought you might want some space. I got that vibe on Saturday night. With the s’mores?”
“Really? That was absolutely not my intention.”
“Okay.” He forked up a big bite. “I thought maybe I’d overstepped by giving Calvin a job. He’s just really bummed about the sugar restrictions.”
“I know.” Maria sighed. “We’ve got to find our way. It’s not realistic to think he can never eat anything sweet again. I mean, when he goes low, he has to, but I don’t want him to think he has to be having a blood sugar crisis in order to get a treat. It’s a mess, and I feel like I’m bungling it constantly.”
Cyan squeezed her hand before letting go. “You’re not. Not from where I’m sitting at least. Like you said, you’re still figuring it out. And I think you’re doing great.”
Maria smiled. “That’s because you like me.”
“Probably factors in, doesn’t change the truth of it. Speaking of that, though.”
Her stomach tightened. That wasn’t usually a good opener. “What?”
“I was thinking I should go do a little Christmas shopping. I don’t want to do everything online. It’s not as personal. Plus, my siblings give me grief when their gifts arrive in a store box. I thought maybe you and Calvin might want to join me? Betsy was saying how my best bet was going to be Santa Fe, or maybe even Albuquerque.”
“The mall?”
He nodded.
Maria hadn’t finished all of her shopping yet. Calvin’s new diagnosis had thrown off her schedule. She’d planned to just get online and knock it out, but she loved seeing the mall all decorated. Calvin still enjoyed getting a photo with Santa. She didn’t really do the whole Santa thing with him, never had, but even though Calvin knew Christmas was about Jesus, they both enjoyed the photo with a man in a red suit. “When?”
“What works for you? I’m pretty flexible.”
Saturdays were getting busier now that they were firmly into December. “Maybe Sunday after church if we can hit the early service? It’s a long drive, but since there’s nothing happening at the ranch that evening we wouldn’t be in a rush to get back.”
“Sure. That works.” He scraped the last of the food off his plate. “This was really good. Thanks for bringing it over.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” She hesitated. Was it too forward to ask about Friday? No. They were past that. Weren’t they? “Are you helping with the bonfire again this weekend?”
He nodded. “That’s the plan. Can I use Calvin again?”
“He’d probably love that. Would you like to join us for supper beforehand?”
“Absolutely. Could I maybe come tonight for more bedtime reading? I haven’t actually read the Narnia books before. I liked it.”
“You really never read them? Saw the movies? Not that the movies are all that great, mind you, but still. It’s not like they’re obscure.”
“Nope.”
“Sure. We’d love to have you. No cocoa this time, though. Even if it is sugar free.”
He laughed. “Yes ma’am.”
Maria slid off the stool. “I can let you get back to work. I’ll tidy up here and let myself out. You’re going to do something about this kitchen, right?”
“As soon as I take up full time residence, it’s going to be first.”
“Why aren’t you living here?”
“Wayne asked me to stay through Christmas at the big house. It gives us a chance to know each other better. Since it looks like I’m going to have to head out on travel right after the holidays, it’s just as easy to wait and get settled when I’m back than start and interrupt the progress.”
She frowned. “You’re leaving?”
“For work, yeah. I was trying to get out of it, but that doesn’t look like it’s worked. So, yeah. Probably just after the new year.”
“When will you be back?” The way he talked about it, Maria didn’t think it was going to be a short trip.
“Best case scenario? Mid-March.”
“And worst case?” She wrapped her arms around herself. Why hadn’t he said something about this sooner? Here she was bringing him into her life—into Calvin’s life—building all sorts of fantasies about the future, and he was planning to leave.
“Probably mid-May.”
May. Five months. She gave a stiff nod. “I see.”
“I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure.” Cyan frowned. “It’s not like I want to go. Don’t be mad. Please?”
She shook her head. It was a good reminder that for all of the confused and mixed up feelings she had for Cyan, she didn’t know him. Not really. Better to take things slow. There was too much at stake to rush headlong into love. “I’m not mad. Just surprised, I guess. Get back to work. I should be getting back myself.”
He studied her before nodding. “It’s still okay if I come for the bedtime story?”
Maria nodded. “Of course.”
Calvin would be elated. So, despite everything, would she.
11
Cyan frowned at the mugs in his hands. Should he take them back? Maria had said no hot chocolate. This wasn’t hot chocolate. And it was still sugar free. Besides, it was Christmas. Or almost. If a kid couldn’t have a few extra treats at Christmastime, what was the point?
Sure, okay. Jesus. He got that now. But still. With a grunt, he knocked on Maria’s cabin door. If she said no, he’d take the lumps. Everything in him wanted to spoil Calvin a little. The kid was a champ. From what he’d seen, Calvin was handling this new diagnosis better than his mom was. Of course, at seven, Calvin didn’t have to deal with the details.
Maria’s smile was strained as she opened the door. Her gaze flicked to the mugs and she shook her head. “Come on in. We’re fighting a low. Maybe that’ll help.”
“A low?” Cyan entered and kicked the door closed behind him.
“Blood sugar. I don’t know if I calculated dinner wrong or he just didn’t eat everything or what. His plate was empty, but he’s sneaky. And he doesn’t like the rice when I make it with chiles in it. But I said—”
“I don’t care what you said.” Calvin crossed his arms, scowling at his mother from the couch.
Maria sighed. “I said he had to eat it. I thought he had. Drink your juice, Cal.”
“Don’t want juice. I want candy.”
“Too bad. Drink the juice.” Maria pinned him with her gaze before turning to Cyan. “I don’t know if we’re even going to get to bedtime stories tonight. Is that hot chocolate?”
Cyan shook his head. “Eggnog. But it’s sugar free, too.”
“Just put it in the kitchen, would you? We can reheat it if someone ever cooperates enough to get to a healthy range.” Maria frowned at her son.
Cyan did as instructed then stood, unsure. Was there a way to help? Or was he just in the way? “Do you want me to go?”
“Maybe it’d be—”
“No!” Calvin jumped off the couch and flung himself at Cyan.
Cyan pried Calvin’s arms away and squatted so they were eye level. “Tell you what. You drink that juice and I’ll stay. Maybe if you do a good job, your mom’ll still let you have a bedtime story.”
Calvin pouted but stuck the straw of the juice box in his mouth and sucked. “I don’t like fruit punch.”
Maria threw her hands in the air. “What am I supposed to do? The bigger packages come as a variety pack. It’s cheaper that way. We have to drink all the kinds before I can buy more. This is always last. It’s all I have right now.”
Cyan hefted Calvin up onto his hip as the boy drained the juice box and crossed to Maria. The tears brimming in her eyes broke his heart. He wanted—well, he wanted to kiss her and tell her everything wou
ld be all right. But he couldn’t promise that. There wasn’t really even anything he could do—at least not that he could think of—to help.
Calvin slurped the last bits of juice out of the box and stuck out his tongue.
Cyan set him on the couch and took the empty box. “Good job, bud.”
Maria squeezed the bridge of her nose. “I can take that.”
“I got it. Why don’t you sit?”
She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Can’t.”
Cyan pressed his lips together and carried the juice box to the kitchen. He tossed it in the recycle bin and crossed to Maria. He rubbed his hands up her arms. “Now what?”
“Now we wait. Ten minutes or so and we test his sugar again and see where it is. Why didn’t he just eat the rice?” Her voice was low and she kept looking over at Calvin on the couch.
“He’s seven.” Cyan hadn’t eaten anything he didn’t like when he was seven. His mom and dad tried everything to get him to try new things. Never worked. Honestly, he wasn’t super excited about doing it as an adult and only really did when he had to be polite.
“I know, it’s just—” She shook her head again. “How am I supposed to keep him healthy?”
“Exactly the way you are. You’ll compromise when you need to and adjust when you must.” Cyan jerked his head toward the couch. “Come on, let’s sit. We’ll start reading and you can do the blood sugar thing when it’s time. Want some eggnog?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not really ever.”
“Seriously? It’s like the official drink of Christmas. How can you not want it?”
Maria made a face. “Nope.”
“Your loss. Mind if I have mine?”
“Nah. I’ll get the book.”
“Are you gonna read, Mr. Cyan?” Calvin popped his head over the top of the sofa.
He was perkier. That had to be good, didn’t it? Maybe the juice was doing its trick. “Sure am, champ. Just as soon as your mom gets the book.”
“Here we go.” Maria handed the book to Cyan and settled on the couch next to Calvin. “How do you feel, baby?”
Calvin shrugged. “Will you do the voices again? They’re at the beavers’ house and mom doesn’t separate Mr. and Mrs. Beaver very well.”
Cyan shot Maria an apologetic look.
Maria rolled her eyes.
“I’ll see what I can do. Ready?”
Calvin nodded.
Cyan flipped open the book at the right spot and began to read. He wasn’t completely sure what had happened since the last time he was here for bedtime reading. Obviously, all the Pevensie children had now made it into Narnia, but how? He was going to have to order a copy for himself. That’d give him a leg up on deciding what sorts of other voices he might need, too.
While he read, Maria took Calvin’s hand and used something that looked like a pen to prick his finger, catching the little drop of blood with a skinny piece of plastic that stuck out of a pager-sized device. When it beeped, she frowned a moment and rose, returning to the couch with another juice box.
“Aw, Mom.”
“Shh. Drink it. You’re still too low.”
Shoulders slumping, Calvin jabbed the straw into the little hole.
Cyan patted the boy’s leg as he read. When he reached the end of the chapter, he stuck his finger in the pages and glanced at Maria. “More? Or do we have to stop.”
“One more, please Mom? I need to know where Edmund went. He’s a jerk.”
“Calvin. We don’t call people that.” Maria frowned.
“But he is.” Calvin’s lower lip poked out.
Cyan smothered a laugh. The kid was right. So far, there was nothing really to recommend Edmund. Maybe he got turned into a statue. That seemed to be a distinct possibility, and it’d serve the brat right. “So? Can we find out where he went? Although I have a pretty good idea, don’t you Cal?”
“He probably snuck off to see the stupid witch and eat more Turkish Delight. Mom looked it up on the Internet and showed me a picture. It sounds gross. Why would anyone want to eat it?”
Cyan chuckled. He’d been curious enough to look it up, too, after the last reading session. It didn’t look like a treat he’d particularly enjoy. “All I can say is people in other countries like different things. You know, I’ll bet if we could offer Edmund one of our famous s’mores, he might not like them.”
“No way. We make the best s’mores.” Calvin grinned up at Cyan, and Cyan’s heart turned to mush.
“We sure do. Even my grandpa commented on how much better they are this year now that you’re helping.”
“Yeah? Mr. Hewitt said that?” The boy’s eyes lit and he turned to Maria. “I told you I was helping.”
“Of course you are.” Cyan glanced at Maria. “Why would anyone think otherwise?”
“I just didn’t want him to be in the way.” Maria seemed to shrink into herself. “Or bother anyone.”
Bother anyone. Bother Cyan was obviously what she meant. Cyan frowned. “I suspect everyone out there is honest enough to say if Cal’s in the way. Which he isn’t.”
“Okay.” Maria sighed. “Why doesn’t Cyan read one more chapter, and then we’ll check your sugar again? Deal?”
Calvin grinned and nodded. He snuggled up against Cyan’s side.
Cyan slid his arm around the boy and opened the book. “Maybe Edmund’ll get eaten by a wolf.”
Calvin giggled.
Maria opened her mouth then snapped it shut, shaking her head.
When the chapter was finished and Maria had confirmed Calvin’s blood sugar was where it needed to be before bed, Cyan tucked the bookmark between the pages and stood. “Thanks for letting me read with you. I’m going to have to get my own copy so I don’t miss anything.”
“Go brush your teeth, baby, I’ll be there in a minute.” Maria patted her son’s leg.
Calvin hopped off the couch and flung his arms around Cyan. “I’m glad you could come read tonight. If I didn’t have to go to school, I could hang out with you all day.”
“Yeah? You know what I do all day?”
Calvin shook his head.
“I work on my computer. It’s not very interesting.”
Calvin frowned. “Oh.”
“I don’t even like to listen to music. I need to concentrate. I bet school’s a little more interesting.”
“We get art tomorrow.”
“See? That’s way more fun.”
“Okay. But I can still help with s’mores on Friday?”
“If your Mom says it’s okay, it’s okay with me. Why don’t we see what the end of the week brings, okay?” Cyan ruffled Calvin’s hair. “Go brush your teeth like your mom told you. I’ll see you again later.”
Calvin waved and darted down the hall.
“Sorry—”
Cyan cut Maria off. “I enjoy him. And you.”
Pink stained Maria’s cheeks. “I don’t know what to do when you say things like that.”
Cyan handed her the book and stepped close. He brushed his lips across hers. “See you tomorrow.”
* * *
“You ready, buddy?” Cyan hunched so half his face was hidden in the collar of his heavy winter jacket and glanced over at Calvin. They hadn’t had any more snow this week, but it was still cold. Once the sun went down, it got even colder. Still, the residents of the area—and maybe some of the folks in town to ski on the semi-famous slopes nearby—flocked to the ranch to partake of some Christmas cheer. Morgan and Tommy were running the sleigh rides. One went out to the area Cyan’s grandparents had marked off for folks who wanted to cut their own trees. The other was just a thirty-minute trek around the property under the stars.
And everyone came to the s’mores table.
Calvin grinned up from where he stood poking marshmallows onto toasting forks. “Yep. Thanks for letting me help again.”
“I couldn’t do it without you. You’re an integral part of the team.” Cyan winked and started unwrappin
g the chocolate bars. “How was school this week?”
Calvin shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
“Learn anything useful?”
“Did you know two times two was four? It’s the same as two plus two.”
“That’s cool. You like multiplying?” Cyan tried to remember when he started learning to multiply. Was it really second grade? Maybe it was. He’d been as excited about it as Calvin, though.
“It’s neat. But I don’t like spelling.”
“Yeah? I always thought spelling was kind of fun. It’s like a code. You already know the sounds letters make, ’cause you can read, right?”
Calvin nodded.
“So spelling is just like reading, but backwards. You have to take the word and break it out into the sounds. It can be tricky, though.” Cyan shrugged. “Maybe it’s still a little too hard.”
Calvin frowned. “You really thought it was fun?”
“I did. I used to beat all my siblings at spelling.”
“Really? Were you ever in a spelling bee?”
“Sort of.” Did homeschool competitions count?
“There’s a spelling bee at our school in February. The winner goes on to regionals and from there to state. I guess there’s something bigger, too. It’s not for losers?” Calvin’s expression was a mixture of hope and scorn.
“Not to me. Unless I’m a loser?”
Calvin shook his head. “No way!”
Cyan chuckled. “Maybe I can help you practice?”
“Really?”
“Really.” Voices and laughter carried over the open area toward them. “Sounds like our first group is headed this way. You’ve got the sticks loaded?”
“Yep. Should I put them in the fire?”
“Not yet. Might as well let them have the thrill. You want to help me get the chocolate onto the crackers?” Cyan gestured to the array of graham crackers he’d lined up like soldiers on plates on the table.
“How’s my best boy?” Maria jogged up and ruffled Calvin’s hair.
“Aw, Mom.” Calvin rolled his eyes and glanced over at Cyan.
“You all set up?”
“We are. Only because I have the best helper around. Thanks for lending him to me.” Cyan rested his hand on Calvin’s shoulder. “You’re not taking him yet, are you?”
Hope for Christmas (Hope Ranch Book 1) Page 9