Maria shook her head. “Nah. I thought I’d hang out here at the fire with you, though. It’s cold tonight. And apparently I’m in the way at the sleigh ride sign up.”
“How?” Wasn’t that her assigned station? How could she be in the way?
“Betsy decided she wanted to be out tonight.” Maria shrugged. “Gives me a chance to stay closer to the chocolate. And the warm.”
Calvin giggled and broke a piece of chocolate off the bar near him. “Here, Mom.”
“Thanks, baby.” She slipped the square into her mouth and hummed. “Nothing better.”
Cyan made a mental note to get Maria some chocolate. Maybe it’d pave the way to more time on the couch after Calvin headed to bed. He’d only made one other evening this week—though he’d purchased an e-copy of the book and had followed along as best he could on his own—and Maria was strict about making sure he was out the door as soon as Calvin headed off to brush his teeth. Not that he blamed her, really. The more he read in his Bible about God’s expectations for His followers, the less sure he was that he’d ever be able to measure up.
“What?” Maria glanced at him, eyebrow raised.
“Sorry.” Had he been staring? Calvin didn’t seem to have noticed. That was good. “Do you ever feel like living up to Jesus’ expectations is impossible?”
“Sure. They kind of are, if you’re trying to do it on your own.”
Cyan frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Just that it’s not up to us to live a holy life. If we were able to do it on our own, we wouldn’t need Jesus in the first place. We’re only able to do it—at any level—when we let the Holy Spirit work in us. Then we change, and what we want aligns more with God’s desire than our own selfish ones.”
Huh. Still seemed impossible. How was he supposed to tell the difference between his desires and the ones God said it was okay for him to have? Like wanting more of a relationship with Maria. Was that from God? Or was it simply because he found her attractive and adored her son? Could it be both?
She touched his arm. “You’re not going to figure it all out at once. It’s a lifetime process.”
“I was that obvious?”
Maria laughed. “I think every believer struggles with the idea at some point. Maybe a whole bunch of points. Just wait until you mess up and you have to work through feeling like you crossed lines Jesus can’t—or won’t—forgive you for.”
Cyan watched Calvin offer toasting forks to the steady trickle of bundled up guests as they arrived from their sleigh rides. Had she considered Calvin in that light? That must’ve been awful. “I thought the whole point was that nothing like that existed.”
“Sure it is.” Maria adjusted the plates with graham crackers and chocolate. “Doesn’t mean you don’t feel that way sometimes.”
He blew out a breath. Everything was always just a little harder than it seemed like it was going to be. Time to change the subject. “How long can I keep my helper tonight?”
Maria tugged her phone out of her coat pocket and pressed the button. The time lit up the screen. “Another hour?”
“That’ll work. Thanks.” The first of the toasters came over to the table with a pair of blackened marshmallows on their fork. “Hi. Ready for chocolate?”
“Yes, please.”
Cyan helped scoot the sticky, charred mess onto the waiting s’mores pieces. “Cal? Here’s a fork to clean and reload.”
Calvin darted over. For whatever reason, this was the kid’s favorite part. Or so he claimed. As far as Cyan was concerned, he was welcome to it. All that stickiness? Yuck.
Maria drifted toward the fire and spoke to several of the people who were busy making their own treats. It was a smallish community. It probably made sense that she knew a lot of the folks who included a trip to the ranch as part of their Christmas tradition. Would he ever fit in like that?
A man laughed and grabbed her around the waist.
Cyan took a step forward and rammed his leg into the table.
Maria darted a look over her shoulder before stepping out of the man’s grasp. Was it the glow of the firelight giving her cheeks their red tint? She patted his shoulder and moved to another clump of people.
Cyan worked to steady his breathing. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to slam his fist into someone’s face.
The man wandered over to the table and shot Cyan an evaluating glance. “You’re Cyan?”
He nodded. “Ready for chocolate?”
“Oh, no, I don’t eat s’mores. I come up with the singles group from church because it’s a fun outing and a chance to see Maria. She never joins our activities.” There was a hint of suspicion in his voice. “Known her long?”
“Just since Thanksgiving when I came to visit my grandparents.” Did it matter how long they’d known each other? If he’d known Maria longer but she still didn’t want anything to do with him, wasn’t that her choice? “But we’ve been spending a lot of time together.”
“She mentioned that.” The man sighed and the bluster in his posture disappeared. “She deserves to have a good man. Don’t let her down.”
Cyan tried to form a response, but no words came. He’d try, but how was he supposed to promise that? Hadn’t he already let her down a little with this upcoming work trip? And there was no way around that. He had to go.
The man just stared. Was he waiting for an answer?
“I’ll do my best.”
After a moment, he nodded and stuck out his hand. “I’m Trent.”
“Cyan. Nice to meet you?”
Trent laughed and shook his head. “No, it isn’t, but it’s nice of you to say. I’m not really a jerk.”
“Okay.”
Trent laughed again. “I think you and I are going to be friends. Even if you end up marrying Maria out from under me.”
“Were you dating?”
“Ouch.” Trent pointed his finger at Cyan. “See? Quick wit, well-timed burns. Definitely friend material. But, to answer the question, no. We never dated. Not for lack of asking on my part. She says I’m not her type.”
“Maybe we can be friends.”
Trent grinned. “You’re coming to church with the Hewitts, right? Hit up our small group after service some time. Maybe you can drag Maria along. I know her kid goes to one—not sure where she goes, though.”
“She goes to the same group my grandparents attend while Calvin is at Sunday school.” It shouldn’t make him bristle to hear someone call Cal her kid, but it did.
Trent considered a moment before nodding. “That explains it.”
“What?”
“The kid—um, Calvin. I’m not good with them, I can admit that. I probably give off a vibe. No mom’s going to date someone like that, are they?”
Cyan shrugged. Probably not, but who knew what some moms would do? “Not one who isn’t into dating for the sake of dating.”
“All right, I concede the field. Not that I was ever actually on it.” Trent looked over at where Calvin was busy cleaning and reloading toasting forks as the group turned them in. “You really don’t mind having a kid in the mix?”
“Mind? Calvin’s worth knowing all on his own. His mom’s just icing.”
“Good line.” Trent laughed.
Cyan frowned.
“Not a line. Got it.” Trent held up his hands. “I think maybe I’ll go before I dig myself another big hole. Still think we can be friends though, man. Keep it in mind.”
Cyan watched him amble back toward the bonfire before glancing down at the nearly depleted s’mores making. He leaned over to get more plates and crackers.
Maria hurried to his side. “I’m so sorry. Trent is...he’s just...he’s harmless.”
Cyan snorted. “That’s not the word I’d choose.”
“Was he mean? I can—”
“Nah, it’s fine. I think we’re good.”
“Okay. He’s always asking me out, and takes it fine when I say no. I don’t know why I said I was seeing someon
e tonight.” Her hands were working quickly to unwrap chocolate bars and snap them into pieces. She didn’t meet his eyes.
“You did?”
Maria gave a slight nod.
Cyan grinned.
Her gaze slid over to him. “That’s okay, right? To tell people?”
It was a miracle he didn’t float straight off into the star-studded sky. “Absolutely.”
“Okay. Good.” She reached for another stack of plates. “I wasn’t sure. You never act like we’re anything other than friends when we’re around your grandparents or the ranch guys. So, I thought maybe—”
“I thought that was what you wanted.” Cyan reached over and grabbed her hand. He gave her a little tug so she stepped closer and their sides touched. “It’s been killing me.”
She looked up and their eyes met. Her voice was breathy. “Really?”
Cyan lowered his lips to hers. “Really.”
12
Maria closed the oven door and checked the time. They’d settled into a routine with Cyan over the last week and a half. Tonight, she was going to try and shake things up a little. So she’d invited him to supper.
“I thought you said the shells were too much hassle for weekdays.” Calvin looked up from where he was doing homework at the kitchen table.
Heat flooded Maria’s cheeks. She had, in fact, told Calvin that. More than once. They were a lot of work. But they were always something people complimented when she did serve them. “How’s your homework going?”
Calvin sighed. “Homework is stupid. Why do we have to do it the week before Christmas?”
“Because, if they gave you the week before Christmas off, then everyone would ask why they had to do homework the week before the week they got off. And then so on and so on, until no one ever did any work and people would stop knowing how to read and the world would devolve into chaos.”
Calvin giggled. “Mo-om.”
“What?” Maria crossed the kitchen and drilled a finger into Calvin’s side. “Where did I go wrong?”
“You’re silly.” He bent back over the page. “Can I have two shells?”
“Why don’t we start with one and see how hungry you still are after that?” She frantically tried to figure out the insulin that he’d need for two stuffed shells and the brownie sundaes she’d planned for after. Hopefully, he’d be happy with one, since that’s what she’d planned. “Don’t forget, I made dessert, too.”
He perked up. “I get some?”
Maria’s heart broke. Had she been too strict about sugar? She just wanted him to be safe. Healthy. “You get some.”
Calvin slapped his notebook closed. “Finished. When do we eat?”
“As soon as it’s ready. Maybe another half hour. Why don’t you grab your book and you can read to me? Then we can check that off your list, too.”
“Aww.”
Maria shook her head and pointed. What was it going to take to get him to love to read? Everyone she talked to said it was a matter of finding the right books. There weren’t a ton of options for seven-year-olds. He did, at least, enjoy listening when she read aloud. He liked it more when Cyan did it.
Calvin shuffled over to the couch and flopped dejectedly onto it. He flipped open the book and began to mutter the words.
The knock at the door forestalled any retort she was going to make.
“I’ll get it!” Calvin tossed his book aside and flew across the room to grab the handle. “Cyan! It’s not bedtime yet.”
“Can I come in?” He grinned at Calvin, then glanced up and held Maria’s gaze. A jolt sizzled through her. That was new. Ish.
“Hi. We’re still about thirty minutes away from being ready. Sorry. I got a later start than I’d planned.”
“Smells good.” He glanced over at the couch and nodded at the book. “What’re you reading?”
Calvin wrinkled his nose. “It’s dumb.”
“Calvin.”
“Well, it is. And boring. But I have to read for thirty minutes every day anyway.”
“Yeah?” Cyan picked up the book and flipped it over. “Doesn’t sound so bad to me. Why don’t you read me a chapter? Maybe I can borrow it when you’re finished.”
“Reading is for girls.” Calvin sighed and trudged back to the couch. He took the book and found his place again.
“What? No way. I love to read. So does my grandpa. And my dad. And my brother, for that matter. Reading is for people who want to be smart.” Cyan stretched his arm out on the back of the couch so it was behind Calvin. “I bet your mom reads.”
“I love to read, as it happens.” Maria dried her hands on a towel and joined them on the couch. Would Cyan’s input help turn the tide? As much as she’d love to see Calvin reading without whining about it, was it wise to let him get dependent on Cyan? She wanted him in their lives—and he would be. Sort of. After he got back from New York. Before he had to go somewhere else. Would he have to? He talked like this thing in New York was unusual. But how often would it happen?
“That’s ’cause she’s a girl. All the girls in class read too, and they make fun of anyone who says a word wrong.”
Uh oh. “That’s not very nice of them.”
Calvin shook his head. “Mrs. Perez never hears it, either, so they don’t get in trouble. None of the boys like to read aloud now.”
Maria made a mental note to send his teacher an email after he went to bed. That simply wasn’t acceptable.
“Well, you read and I promise not to laugh or make any comments. Then, maybe it’ll be time for you to show me how to set the table.” Cyan slid his arm onto the back of the couch, brushing his fingers across Maria’s neck.
Calvin sighed and started reading. At least it wasn’t a mutter anymore.
Maria let her head relax against the top of the cushion. How nice it would be to end every night this way.
As Calvin got to the last page of his chapter, the oven timer buzzed.
“Is it ready?” Calvin slapped the book shut, grinning. “Mom’s stuffed shells are the best. But she only makes them for special occasions. Are you a special occasion, Mr. Cyan?”
He chuckled. “That’d be nice, wouldn’t it? Maybe we’re celebrating the last Tuesday before Christmas. That’s a pretty special day, you know.”
“Yeah? Why?” Calvin jumped off the couch and moved a stool in the kitchen so he could climb up to reach the plates. He handed Cyan three of them and hopped down.
Cyan set the plates on the table. “Um. Because it means we’re less than eight days away?”
Calvin giggled. “You’re as silly as Mom. Here, I’ll get cups if you can do the silverware. I never remember which side the fork goes on.”
“When you’re finished with that, we need to check your blood sugar and do your insulin.” Maria set the pan of stuffed shells in the center of the table. It’d be nice not to have to stab him with a syringe so many times throughout the day. They were finding a rhythm, but it wasn’t easy. Or fun.
Cyan finished setting the table while Maria handled Calvin’s medication. Finished, they all took their seats. The three of them around the table was like a family. Her heart gave a funny little skip in her chest. Was it wrong to pray for more than one miracle at a time? She was already begging God to make a way for them to afford the insulin pump. Was it greedy to hope He’d make a way for Calvin to have a complete family, too?
* * *
“What do you want for Christmas?” Maria fought the urge to snuggle up against Cyan and, instead, tucked her feet under her and leaned against the arm of the sofa.
“I don’t really need anything.” Cyan stretched his arm along the back of the couch and brushed her shoulder with his fingers. “I could use some help decorating my cabin.”
She ignored the shivers his touch caused. “That’s no fun. I’ll help you decorate now. Although, you need to remember your promise to redo that kitchen. It’s...tragic. Decorating help isn’t going to fix it.”
He chuckled and shifted, inchi
ng closer. “Maybe if I wait long enough, that gold will come back in fashion.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Even if it does, just no.”
“All right, if you’re sure.” His voice was teasing and his eyes sparked with laughter. “Thanks for dinner. It was incredible.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” She was glad about a lot of things. Calvin’s blood sugar after dinner was right where it needed to be, even with a brownie for dessert. “Thanks for staying after Cal went to bed.”
“I can’t think of any place I’d rather be.”
Her cheeks heated. “You say things like that a lot. A girl could get the wrong idea.”
“I don’t think it’d be the wrong idea. I like you. I like spending time with you, both alone and with Calvin. I want this to grow into something more between us.”
“More. Like what?”
“Love. Marriage. Maybe more kids, if that’s something you’re interested in.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “And if I’m not?”
“Then I guess we’ll talk about it, and I’ll try to convince you you’re wrong.” Cyan flashed a grin. “I can be persuasive when I need to be.”
Maria laughed. “I just bet. As it happens, I’ve always wanted more kids, but dating when you’ve already got one is harder than it seems. At least if you’re trying to do it God’s way.”
“So?”
“So, what?”
“I guess I’d like to know how far off base I am. I don’t see you inviting anyone else over for stuffed shells and bedtime stories, so I know there’s something here. But how big is it? Do we have a chance? Even with me leaving in January? I know that’s not what you prefer.”
Right. He was still leaving. Which meant what? Nothing. It didn’t mean anything, really, other than that they’d have to take things slow. Wasn’t that what she wanted anyway? “I just...long distance relationships are hard. And what if you end up loving it and decide to stay?”
Cyan laughed. “Never going to happen. I don’t like the city. I like it here. And I think you’re worth a little extra effort. I know it’s not going to be easy, but that doesn’t change wanting to make it work.”
Hope for Christmas (Hope Ranch Book 1) Page 10