Yuletide Cowboys: The Cowboy's Yuletide Reunion / The Cowboy's Christmas Gift
Arlene James
Deb Kastner
The Cowboy's Yuletide Reunion by Deb KastnerWhen Sarah Kendrick meets her high school sweetheart again, she's ashamed to show Marcus Ender how far she's fallen. But when they're snowed in on her ranch, and he returns holiday joy to her family, Sarah could have a merry Christmas…if she'll say yes.The Cowboy's Christmas Gift by Arlene JamesAn injury forces rodeo rider Matt Ender home to his family's ranch—where he clashes with his grandmother's pretty business partner.Former cowgirl Neely Spence has no time for love. Can they open their hearts and find family this Christmas?
Two Cowboys’ Christmas Wishes
THE COWBOY’S YULETIDE REUNION BY DEB KASTNER
When Sarah Kendrick meets her high school sweetheart again, she’s ashamed to show Marcus Ender how far she’s fallen. But when they’re snowed in on her ranch, and he returns holiday joy to her family, Sarah could have a merry Christmas…if she’ll say yes.
THE COWBOY’S CHRISTMAS GIFT BY ARLENE JAMES
An injury forces rodeo rider Matt Ender home to his family’s ranch—where he clashes with his grandmother’s pretty business partner. Former cowgirl Neely Spence has no time for love. Can they open their hearts and find family this Christmas?
Praise for Deb Kastner (#ulink_66f32369-ec3d-5e60-82a2-4432a4e2a53c)
“Kastner’s latest will grab the reader with familiar characters and engaging dialogue.”
—RT Book Reviews on Yuletide Baby
“In this endearing final installment of the E-mail Order Brides series, Kastner provides an original twist on the ‘alter egos’ storyline, and her characters’ struggles with identity are relatable.”
—RT Book Reviews on Meeting Mr. Right
“A wonderful story about sharing burdens, finding faith and discovering the life one dreams of may already be the one you have.”
—RT Book Reviews on A Colorado Match
Praise for Arlene James
“The charms of small-town life and the community’s spirit blossoms in this Heart of Main Street series opener.”
—RT Book Reviews on Love in Bloom
“Kendra and Jack realistically struggle to overcome hardships and learn to love in this compelling continuation of the Texas Twins miniseries.”
—RT Book Reviews on Carbon Copy Cowboy
“Warm, rich details combine with Southern charm and hospitality in this touching story about healing deep emotional wounds with God’s help.”
—RT Book Reviews on Second Chance Match
Award-winning author DEB KASTNER lives and writes in beautiful Colorado. Since her daughters have grown into adulthood and her nest is almost empty, she is excited to be able to discover new adventures, challenges and blessings, the biggest of which is her sweet grandchildren. She enjoys reading, watching movies, listening to music, singing in the church choir and attending concerts and musicals.
ARLENE JAMES has been publishing steadily for nearly four decades and is a charter member of RWA. She is married to an acclaimed artist, and together they have traveled extensively. After growing up in Oklahoma, Arlene lived thirty-four years in Texas and now abides in beautiful northwest Arkansas near two of the world’s three loveliest, smartest, most talented granddaughters. She is heavily involved in her family, church and community.
Yuletide Cowboys
The Cowboy’s Yuletide Reunion
Deb Kastner
The Cowboy’s Christmas Gift
Arlene James
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#uc7272be7-25a0-5550-9e50-c9908b923d21)
Back Cover Text (#u44642839-d0c4-5cfc-ac08-121a6605f777)
Praise (#uf3d9a16f-1e19-51de-8e50-39b33449cc0c)
About the Author (#u8b7610ad-e35a-5b9a-a9cd-a120aef24c7d)
Title Page (#uae8bcf8d-5e48-53c9-8d32-7ef2ccdb74eb)
The Cowboy’s Yuletide Reunion (#u73ba388a-a56c-5063-ab67-0fd11cb855a1)
Dedication (#u5604695c-cbc9-59d6-b104-3f6ad48bb36d)
Bible Verse (#u3c92b6f8-ff03-5d20-99eb-11f21eba664f)
Chapter One (#ub2d88378-b39b-50d9-aa95-390aa4522b45)
Chapter Two (#u76486e9d-8c61-5045-a36c-6896f22c8e1d)
Chapter Three (#uf62eb06c-62e2-5c61-8447-5289cf97e481)
Chapter Four (#uf478596d-e405-53ac-930c-25197848963f)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
The Cowboy’s Christmas Gift (#litres_trial_promo)
Bible Verse (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
The Cowboy’s Yuletide Reunion (#ulink_bcea51f7-dc91-5da0-af5f-0766836d229f)
Deb Kastner
To my family. You manage to live with me despite crazy tight deadlines, a messy house and endless fast food. Love you all!
Then the angel said to them,
“Do not be afraid, for I bring you tidings of great joy
Which will be to all people.
For there is born to you this day in the city of David
A Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”
—Luke 2:10–11
Chapter One (#ulink_6e02656e-78a6-5561-8613-dfacfef94919)
“Cowabunga!” Marcus Ender stomped on the brake of his truck and jerked the steering wheel to the right, nearly jackknifing the empty horse trailer he was towing behind him. Snow glistened on the evergreen branches and banked along the sides of the road where the plow had gone through.
At first he thought he was seeing things. But no.
The animal was there right in front of his eyes, all right—except it wasn’t a cow that had bounded into the road and completely blocked his truck from passing. Marcus narrowed his gaze on the antlered beast.
Not an elk. Not a deer—at least not the white-tailed variety that one generally expected to find in the thickly forested Colorado landscape. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.
A reindeer? Like the kind that pulled Santa’s sleigh? Up on the housetop and all that?
Man, was this thing lost. Like on another continent, lost—or wherever the North Pole was supposed to be. Geography had never been Marcus’s best subject.
He chuckled. The reindeer, which stood right in front of his truck with garland draped around its neck, calmly ruminated and stared back at him as if he were the odd man out.
Maybe he was. Texas born and raised in Oklahoma, he had never been to Colorado before. He wouldn’t be here now if he wasn’t doing a favor for his Grandma Sheryl. He was already anticipating being home for the holidays at his grandmother’s ranch in Red Bluff, Oklahoma. His older brother, Matt, had already arrived, celebrating the holiday with the family for his first time in years. Marcus didn’t know how he felt about that—he and Matt had never gotten along well and hadn’t seen each other in a long time, but he hadn’t been the one to put distance between them, and he wasn’t about to let Matt ruin the holidays for him.
He’d just pick up the horses here that his grandmother had purchased and be on his way—as soon as the reindeer decided to move. It was taking its own good time about it.
He was about to roll down the window and shake his hat at it, but then it occurred to him that the animal must belong to someone, probably a local, if the garland was anything to go by. Could reindeer be domesticated? He had no idea how much one cost, but he was guessing they couldn’t be cheap.
It wasn’t in his nature to drive away when he might be able to help someone find a missing pet, and anyway, he was curious. He hoped it was tame.
Did reindeer bite? Worse yet, since he didn’t know what he was doing with a live reindeer, he ran the distinct prospect of antlers prodding his hindquarters.
Taking a deep breath and whispering a prayer for safety, he gently opened the cab door, half expecting the reindeer to dart away into the brush, or worse yet, charge him. It lifted its head and followed his movements but didn’t appear to be startled by his presence.
“Easy now,” he murmured gently. He took one step toward it, then two. “We’re all friends here, right?”
The reindeer’s ears twitched forward as if it understood what he was saying.
“Right,” he repeated, verbally reassuring himself. As a general rule he liked animals and they responded in kind, but a reindeer?
Even if he could get next to it and even if it was somehow tagged with an address—which was highly unlikely, now that he thought about it—what was he going to do with it? Sure, he was pulling a horse trailer, but there was no way he would attempt to load a wild animal into it.
He heard the clip-clop of a horse’s hooves on the pavement behind him and turned just in time to see a woman riding bareback toward him on a very large black draft horse. The sun shone directly behind her and Marcus lowered his straw cowboy hat over his brow to shade his eyes. He couldn’t make out more than her shadow, but she looked downright diminutive on top of the enormous Percheron.
“I see you’ve met Crash,” she said with a spritely laugh.
Marcus froze at the sound of her voice, and for a moment he thought his heart stopped beating.
He knew that voice. He knew that laugh.
“Sarah?”
“Marcus?” Sarah sounded just as stunned as he felt, as well she should be. What was his high school sweetheart doing out here in the middle of the Colorado forest?
Even if he hadn’t recognized her voice, his heart affirmed the truth and his pulse raced wildly at the thought of seeing her again. It had been a long time. As far as Marcus was concerned, too long. Either that, or not nearly long enough.
Sarah trotted up to him and reined the horse to a halt. He reached for the horse’s head without a second thought. She’d been riding with nothing more than a rope halter to guide her enormous mount.
He wasn’t surprised that Sarah rode with such ease. She’d always had a way with horses.
And reindeer, apparently. Crash, was it?
“I don’t understand,” she said, effortlessly swinging her leg around and sliding off the Percheron. She looked thinner than he remembered her, and the circles under her eyes were almost as dark as her sable hair, which she had pulled back into a loose ponytail. She’d slung a lariat across her shoulder and looked halfway as if she’d just ridden out of an old Western. “What are you doing here?”
Without taking the time to think through his actions, Marcus grinned and enveloped her in an impromptu hug. He’d always respected the value of a good hug, even before spending the past several years working as a counselor at a ranch for troubled teens. To his dismay, she immediately stiffened in his embrace. He dropped his arms and stepped back, feeling as awkward as the youth he was when he’d seen her last. He cleared his throat, wondering what to say to break the silence.
“I suppose I could ask the same thing of you.” Marcus paused and then clicked his tongue as the realization sprung on him. “Except I think I already know.”
Grandma Sheryl had sent him on this errand to pick up some horses she’d bought on his way to her Oklahoma ranch, and he’d agreed without even remotely suspecting an alternate motive. Anything for his grandma—anything except this. Grandma wasn’t usually so sly. Heat rushed to his face and he lowered his head so Sarah wouldn’t see his flaming cheeks.
Why hadn’t it occurred to him before that Grandma Sheryl might have something up her sleeve? He wouldn’t put it past her to have cooked up some nutty matchmaking scheme. How was he going to explain that to Sarah? Her reception could be termed less than enthusiastic.
“I didn’t expect...you,” Sarah admitted, voicing exactly what Marcus had been thinking. “When I spoke to your grandmother, I had the impression she was sending one of her wranglers to collect my horses from me, not one of her grandsons.”
“If it makes any difference, she didn’t tell me I’d be seeing you, either.”
“Oh.”
That one syllable pretty much summed it up. His skin prickled as if he was breaking out in hives. Had it not occurred to Grandma Sheryl that this encounter might not go well? That Sarah might not want to see him again? He and Sarah hadn’t parted on the best of terms after they’d graduated from high school, and they hadn’t seen each other since. And she didn’t sound as if she was too thrilled about the prospect of seeing him now.
“I’m just here to collect the horses and then I’ll get out of your hair,” he promised, grinning despite the discomfort of his churning stomach.
“Fine,” she agreed with a clipped nod. She wasn’t even trying to smile. “But first I need to take care of Crash. Clever girl somehow opened the paddock gate and decided to take a little hike on her own. I was afraid I might have lost her for good.”
Marcus eyed Crash and then the Percheron. “How do you plan to get her back to your ranch?”
She chuckled, but to his keen ears it sounded forced. He laughed along with her, hoping that would encourage her not to stress over it. Chasing a runaway reindeer was kind of funny in a way, but maybe not if you were the owner of said reindeer.
“It’s a Christmas tree farm, not a ranch. And I’ve brought my trusty lariat along to catch the errant reindeer,” she said, tilting her head to look up at him, the sudden sparkle in her gray eyes making Marcus’s breath catch in his throat. “Can you give me a boost? Mag here is as gentle as a lamb but he’s a big ol’ brute.”
“I’ll say,” Marcus agreed, threading his fingers to provide a hand-made stirrup. She steadied herself by gripping his shoulder and their gazes met and held for what seemed like an eternity, but which was probably only a few seconds, long enough for electricity to zing through him and rev his pulse.
They were both older now, and hopefully wiser, but apparently some things never changed, such as the way her gray eyes could so easily capture his and jolt him right down to his core. Such as the way his head spun when he inhaled the sweet apple of her shampoo, the same scent she’d worn when they were dating in high school.
What would Grandma Sheryl think of that?
Better for him if she didn’t find out. He swallowed hard and boosted Sarah up onto Mag’s sturdy back, half-relieved when she was no longer in his arms, and yet he felt oddly vacant.
“Is Mag short for something?” he asked, trying to turn his mind to something less hazardous.
“Magnificent. The other half of his team is Jes—Majestic.”
“Clever. And accurate.”
“Thank you. I named them myself.” She seemed to sit a little taller as she slipped the lariat off her shoulder and nudged Mag forward with her heels. To Marcus’s surprise, Crash didn’t budge when the large draft horse trotted in her direction, and Sarah easily slid the loop over the reindeer’s neck.
“Okay, now, Crash, let’s get you back home where you belong.” She glanced behind her to Marcus, leaning her free hand on Mag’s flanks. “You can follow me back to the farm in your truck.”
“That won’t bother the animals?”
“Not if you don’t tailgate.”
She flashed him a cheeky grin, turned forward and kicked Mag into a quick trot. Crash snuffed in protest but held back for only a moment before following her without any more hesitation. Marcus couldn’t say that he blamed the reindeer.
There was a time when he would have followed Sarah anywhere.
* * *
Sarah couldn’t seem to catch a breath nor calm her erratic pulse. She was painfully aware of the deep purr of Marcus’s truck directly behind her, but she didn’t dare glance backward to see if he was following at a safe distance.
He was. He was Marcus, after all.
Marcus Ender. He’d been on her mind often in recent weeks, but she’d never considered that she might actually see him again. He was her happy place, the spot in her mind and the high point of her past memories where she went when she needed to remember the way things used to be, when in her innocence and naïveté she’d believed the whole wonderful world stretched before her, full of adventures and blessings. Before she’d grown up and finally understood how painful life really was.
To her deep regret, little had gone right in her life since she’d graduated from high school and left small-town Oklahoma behind for the thrill of Colorado. She’d been full of ideals and intentions, the promise of higher education and making it out on her own.
She’d graduated college, but then her life had gone off on a tangent she never would have expected. Things had gotten bad. Then worse. Then downright terrible. Right now she felt as if she was drowning. She would have long since given up trying to succeed at all if it weren’t for her beloved daughters. Even given all the misfortunes she’d encountered, she would do it all again in a heartbeat for Onyx and Jewel.
Every day, with every ounce of her being, she fought for her children and prayed for them and worked for things to get better. But they didn’t get better, and no matter how hard she prayed, the Lord didn’t appear to answer her, or even hear her meager pleas. Lately she’d stopped asking.
Crash snuffed, bringing her abruptly back to the present. The reindeer pulled back unexpectedly, contending with the rope around her neck. The lariat tightened and nearly slipped from Sarah’s fingers. She dropped the horse’s reins and grabbed the rope with both hands, tugging against the stubborn reindeer. That’s all she needed, to have Crash bolt and run. This day was already a prime disaster in the making without silly reindeer games.
She snorted at her unintentional pun. Oh, she was funny today. And it was only going to get better from here.
Marcus had come to take away the last vestiges of her life with her late husband, Justin. Mag and Jes, the Percheron team that had once drawn the sleigh taking cheery guests out into the woods to find the perfect Christmas tree, would now be part of Sheryl Ender’s breeding program—or something. They hadn’t really discussed why Sheryl wanted to purchase the draft horses from her. Last she knew, the older lady and her business partner bred and trained quarter horses for barrel racing. Percherons seemed a far cry from that, but if Sheryl had use for the Percherons and would give a good price for them, who was Sarah to complain?
At least her beloved horses were going to someone she trusted and admired. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, but she dashed them away with the back of her hand.
No more tears. She was done crying.
The only animals left at the farm after the Percherons departed would be Snort and Crash. She had no idea what she was going to do with a couple of live reindeer. Trying to sell them a week before Christmas was like trying to pawn penny candy at a gourmet chocolate shop. An added stress to an already bleak season.
The sky, which only minutes before had been a pale blue and lined with a few fluffy clouds on the horizon, had now turned a dark, ominous mixture of colors as a storm surged over the front range of the Rocky Mountains. Sarah was familiar with Colorado weather and how abruptly things could change. Some days you could get a tan in the morning and build a snowman by midafternoon. She sensed the change as much as saw it, breathed the feeling of imminent snow in the air, and moments later large white flakes were spitting from the sky.
She glanced back at Marcus. He was following close enough that she could see the half smile on his lips, but his expressive eyes were shadowed by the brim of his hat. He’d appeared every bit as shocked as she was at their unexpected encounter with each other, and she wondered what he thought about it now.
She shook her head and scoffed at herself. Why did it matter? He would load the Percherons in his trailer and be on his way within the hour. That would be the best thing for both of them, if he left without lingering. The less time they had to spend together, the better.
Unfortunately, her plan to be quickly rid of Marcus hinged on the weather, which wasn’t cooperating at all. The sky was glowing a dark purplish-gray color. Not a good sign.
By the time they reached the farm several minutes later, the ground was already covered with a fresh blanket of snow and there was no end in sight. The already snow-packed roads would be extra slick, with dangerous patches of black ice lurking just under the white blanket. Marcus’s truck was a four-wheel drive, but she doubted that would help him navigate the difficult landscape, especially with a trailer attached. Winter driving was tricky for those experienced with the conditions. She didn’t know where Marcus had been in the past twelve years, but if he still lived in Oklahoma, he wouldn’t be familiar with the ferocity of this weather.
Reaching the barn, she threw her leg across Mag’s flank and jumped to the ground, then set her heels and tugged on Crash’s rope, urging her toward the barn. One would have thought the errant reindeer would be easily tempted by the prospect of warmth and food, but apparently not. The crazy animal planted her four hooves and straightened her neck and pulled her entire weight backward.
Stubborn, stubborn reindeer.
She was still mumbling a few choice words about fur rugs and venison steaks when Marcus exited his truck. He chuckled. “Need a hand?”
Sarah’s first instinct was to refuse. She didn’t need Marcus’s help with anything. But then common sense took over and she tossed him the rope. It wasn’t his fault she was mad at the world and everything in it.
“Knock yourself out.”
“Well, I hope not, darlin’. It’ll take more than one feisty reindeer to sweep me off my feet.” He winked at her and her treacherous heart fluttered.
Marcus was six foot two and built like a brick wall, but it still took a great deal of tugging on his part to get the stubborn reindeer moving again. Sarah directed him to Crash’s stall and then put up Mag, giving the Percheron a good rubdown and a bucket of oats to help tide him over for the long journey ahead.
Marcus could probably use a good pick-me-up as well, maybe a stout cup of coffee for the road, but Sarah hesitated to invite him up to the house.
For one thing, Onyx and Jewel and her parents-in-law, Carl and Eliza, were inside the cabin. There would be the obligatory introductions and Marcus, ever the social butterfly, would no doubt get caught up in the moment after finding himself accosted by the friendly elderly couple, the enthusiastic three-year-old and the unquestionably adorable baby.
Another reason she had qualms about bringing Marcus around had to do with the state of her house. It was in dire need of repair, from the missing tiles on the roof to a kitchen cabinet half falling off the hinges. Then there was the starkness of the decor, or rather, a lack of any sort of decor whatsoever. She’d pawned nearly every piece of furniture and all of the artwork to pay the most pressing of recent bills. There was only a smattering of pieces left—such as a beat-up old olive-green armchair and a hideaway sofa that had seen better days.
It would be obvious to even the most dispassionate of observers that she was in dire straits, and of all the people on planet earth, Marcus was the last man she’d want to have discover her this way. Her cheeks heated. Oh, the humiliation of it all.
The whole reason she’d broken up with him on the day after their high school graduation was so that she could go out and make a success of herself. They were headed in different directions and she couldn’t be held back by a long-distance relationship. She needed to stay focused on her studies so she would never end up sending her kids to school wearing secondhand clothes as she’d had to do when she was a child. She was going to make something of herself.
Ha. What a joke that had turned out to be. She was dangling precariously by a thread right now, and it grew thinner all the time. But Marcus didn’t need to know that—any of it. A woman had her pride, after all.
Marcus stood near the stable door, his hat in his hand and his brow drawn in an unusually solemn expression as he stared out at the landscape. She was about ready to suggest they load up the Percherons so he could be on his way when he turned to her and threaded his fingers through his thick golden hair.
“The weather has taken a turn for the worse.” She knew he was trying his best to sound conversational, but she could hear the note of worry underlying his tone.
She stepped up beside him and peered out over the landscape, already knowing what she was going to see but still hoping beyond hope that he was overreacting.
He wasn’t. His truck was already covered with a half inch of heavy snow. She couldn’t even see the tracks the truck had made driving in. Perhaps worst of all, the wind was lashing the snow sideways, leaving zero visibility. She could barely make out the lights from the cabin, even though it was located only a few hundred yards from the stable.
“You’re right. This doesn’t look good,” she agreed tightly, her throat going dry.
Oh no.
Her worst-case scenario was rapidly becoming her only option. What else was she to do?
Marcus frowned and settled his hat on his head. “No, it doesn’t look good at all. I’d best load up the horses and head out of here before the storm gets any worse.”
As much as she didn’t want to do it, she laid a restraining hand on his arm. “I’m afraid we’re too late for that. It looks like you’re going to have to take your hat off and stay awhile.
Chapter Two (#ulink_5a808e12-fe11-5213-a3ef-e686ff26e53f)
Was it his imagination or had Sarah’s shoulders slumped when she’d suggested they go up to her house? Did his presence bother her that much?
It was a disheartening notion, but she was right about one thing—he wasn’t going anywhere, at least not for a few hours yet. He’d never seen anything like this sudden turn in the weather. The already snow-packed roads were receiving a double wallop of the white stuff. Snow on snow. He didn’t even want to think about trying to drive in it, especially towing a trailer with Grandma Sheryl’s precious equine cargo. Odd, though, that he hadn’t seen any quarter horses. Only the two Percherons, and Grandma wouldn’t have any use for those.
For the moment a steaming-hot cup of black coffee and the opportunity to catch up with Sarah sounded great to him, even if she didn’t appear equally enthused.
As they approached the house, Marcus darted around her to get the door, but it opened before he could get his hand around the knob, nearly sending him careening into the cabin.
Startled, Marcus stepped back. A white-haired old man with a bushy beard greeted them and hastily ushered them inside. The guy was a dead ringer for Santa, from the rosy cheeks and the glitter in his eyes to his round belly. The only thing missing from the picture was a bow-like smile, which had been replaced by a worried frown. No bowl-full-of-jelly laughter here.
The fellow fit right into the surroundings, seeing as this was a Christmas tree farm and all. But what was he doing in her cabin? Sarah retained her very own Santa Claus and the man lived in her house?
“Thank the good Lord you’re safely home,” the man exclaimed in a booming bass voice. “Eliza is in a tizzy. She was just about ready to send me out after you in this blizzard. I’m grateful you came back when ya did. I wouldn’t want to have had to chase ya through the snow.”
“Sorry, Pops.” Sarah brushed the white flakes from her dark hair and removed her snow boots and down jacket. “Pops, this is Marcus, one of Sheryl Ender’s grandsons. He’s here to pick up the horses, but unfortunately, the storm waylaid him. Marcus, this is my father-in-law, Carl Kendricks.”
“Good to meet you, sir,” Marcus replied automatically, shaking the older man’s hand. He was glad he didn’t have to think about the effort because his mind was busy wrapping itself around what he’d just learned.
Sarah was married. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be. She was a beautiful woman with a heart of gold. He didn’t know why the news came as a surprise to him, except that—
He glanced at her left ring finger, but it was bare.
Divorced, maybe? But then why would she be living with her husband’s parents?
“Sarah?” a woman called from the next room. “Is that you, honey? We were starting to get worried what with the snow croppin’ up and all. Jewel just woke up from her nap. I fed her a bottle but she’s still fussy. I think she wants her mama.”
A pleasantly plump white-haired woman—Mrs. Claus, if Marcus didn’t miss his guess—bustled into the room with a baby on one hip and a young dark-haired girl following along, hiding behind her grandmother’s leg. The children were beautiful, the spitting images of their mother.
“Oh,” the older woman exclaimed when she saw Marcus. “I didn’t realize you had company.”
Marcus grinned. “I’m here for the horses.”
“One of Sheryl’s grandsons,” Carl supplied. “Marcus, this is my wife, Eliza.”
“You’re from Oklahoma? Did you go to school with Sarah?”
Marcus’s gaze shifted to Sarah. Went to school with her? He’d dated her, for all four years of high school. He’d thought they were headed for an engagement and a wedding.
How wrong could a man be?
“I—er—yes, ma’am. We were in the same class together.” He figured it was best to stick with the broad picture. No sense bringing up the past when her husband might waltz into the room at any moment.
Awkward.
“You all settle in now. Marcus, go ahead and shuck your coat and boots at the door,” Eliza said, handing the baby to Sarah. “Coffee’s already on. I’ll grab an extra cup. I figured you’d need something to warm your innards after being out in that mess. Storm’s a brewin’.” She gestured toward the front window. Outside the wind swirled the large snowflakes both horizontally and vertically, creating a virtual whiteout. “Did you find Crash?”
“Silly reindeer was a good mile or so away, standing right in the middle of the road and blocking Marcus’s truck.”
“She wouldn’t budge,” Marcus added with a chuckle, winking at Eliza. “Good thing for me that Sarah happened along. I’ve never been face-to-face with a real live reindeer before. I didn’t know what to do with her.”
“Crash would have moved eventually, when she got hungry enough,” Sarah said.
Marcus switched his gaze to her. There was something—off—in her tone, and even holding her baby, she had her arms wrapped around herself in a universally defensive gesture. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but his years as a counselor had given him a sixth sense where people’s emotions were concerned, even when they were trying to hide them.
Sarah was trying to conceal her feelings but she still sounded...down. Maybe even depressed.
His chest ached. His heart hurt for her, even if he didn’t know why. She seemed as if she had it all— a beautiful family, a Christmas tree farm. Even live reindeer. How cool was that?
A thought hit him like a punch to the gut. Was he the reason she was sad?
“I’ve been meaning to ask—what is Sheryl going to do with a couple of Percherons, anyway?” Carl queried, running a hand down the gristle on his face.
Marcus didn’t know whether to answer the question or ask two more. How did Carl and Eliza know Grandma Sheryl? And more to the point, what was this about him being here to take the Percherons?
“Wait—what? I’m not here for barrel racers? Quarter horses?”
“Quarter horses?” Eliza snorted. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not running a ranch here, son. What would a Christmas tree farm be doing with rodeo stock?”
Marcus didn’t have a clue what a Christmas tree farm would do with barrel racers, but he was equally stymied as to why Grandma Sheryl, who trained quarter horses for rodeo would buy a couple of Percherons. It didn’t make any sense.
“We use the drafts to pull the sleigh,” Eliza continued.
“Used,” Sarah corrected dully.
Now Marcus knew something was wrong, and unless he was the one causing the problem, he didn’t want to leave until he’d uncovered the reason for her misery and discovered a way he could make her smile again.
Unfortunately, that was out of his hands. He was here to pick up the horses and go—as soon as the snow let up.
Sarah slouched into a shabby olive-green armchair and shifted the baby to her shoulder. She gestured to the little girl, who was still hiding behind Eliza’s ample frame, one big dark eye peering out at him suspiciously.
It was going to take some work for him to win Sarah’s trust when she obviously didn’t want him here, but Marcus suspected he knew how to deal with the little one, who was a pint-size replica of her beautiful mother.
He crouched to the child’s level and flashed his thousand-watt smile. He knew his strengths, and his grin topped the list, or so the ladies told him, both young and old. He hoped making friends with Sarah’s daughter might be the first step in repairing his relationship with Sarah.
He reached out his hand to the preschooler. “Hey there, little lady. My name is Marcus. What’s yours?”
He held his breath as he awaited her response. The moment stretched out indefinitely as the little girl stared at him, her lips in an adorable little pout. Second only to the first time he’d asked Sarah on a date, this was maybe the most important female he’d ever wanted to impress.
“I’m Onyx, and I’m three,” she declared, holding up three fingers. She stepped out from behind her grandmother and reached for his hand, her expression as serious as her handshake. “That’s my baby sister, Jewel, my mama is holding.”
“Pleased to meet you, Onyx—and Jewel,” he said, meeting her solemn tone with one equally as earnest. “I’m an old friend of your mama’s.”
“’Kay. Granny, can I go play with Buttons now?”
Marcus had never been quite so summarily dismissed by a female before. He turned to Sarah and arched a brow, grinning crookedly. “Buttons?”
“Her rabbit.”
He’d been bested by a bunny.
* * *
Sarah couldn’t believe how quickly Marcus pulled Onyx out of her shell. The little girl had been a precocious and outgoing toddler, but after the death of her father she’d become withdrawn and suspicious about everybody and everything. No matter what Sarah did to try to coax her into meeting people and trying new things, nothing seemed to work. All Marcus had to do was grin at her and the child immediately fell subject to his charm.
Sarah couldn’t blame her. It was hard not to respond to Marcus’s natural appeal, especially because he knew what he had and how to use it. The first time he’d turned that smile upon her she’d been a goner. Her heart fluttered at the memory. But that was a long time ago. Things were different now and she was well beyond the possibility of being flattered by a handsome face and charming smile.
Marcus moved to the front window, pressing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I guess I’d better get going before the storm gets any worse.”
“What? No. You can’t go out in that!” Sarah’s heart leaped into her throat as Marcus swiveled toward her, clearly surprised at her outburst. Her exclamation had been one of sheer panic. She’d practically shouted the words. Poor Jewel gave a distressed yelp and flailed her little arms in surprise.
Heat rushed to her face as he narrowed his gaze on her, silently studying her, his jaw tight and strain rippling across his broad shoulders.
“You can’t leave yet,” she amended, consciously leveling her voice even though her pulse was hammering. “It’s not safe for you to drive in a whiteout, especially if you’re not used to this kind of weather.” She knew she still sounded flustered. How could she explain her irrational fear of snowstorms without going into personal details she’d rather avoid?
“It’s really coming down out there. I can hardly see my truck from here. How long do you think before it stops? I’d hate to put you out any more than I have to. Maybe another hour or so?”
“An hour?” Sarah forced a chuckle and shook her head. “I’m afraid you’re unfamiliar with Colorado blizzards. It’ll be a day, maybe more, before this storm blows over.”
His eyes widened and his jaw went slack. “A day?”
She nodded. “At the very least. I’m afraid you have no other option. You’ll have to stay the night here as a guest in our home. I don’t want to risk you putting yourself—or Mag and Jes—in danger.” She paused and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Oh. I didn’t ask about your family. Will your wife be worried about you?”
His eyes widened. “Wife? No—I’m not married. But I’d best call Grandma Sheryl and let her know there’s been a delay. I don’t want her to worry.”
She didn’t know why she breathed a sigh of relief when he said he was single. His marital status or the lack of was certainly no business of hers. But that didn’t stop her traitorous heartbeat from quickening.
“I’ll make up a guest room for you,” she said to hide her sudden disorientation. She felt a little dizzy, as if the ground was rocking beneath her. “It’s our spare room and we use it for storage, but there’s a bed you can use for the night.”
Marcus opened his mouth as if to protest, then glanced over his shoulder at the heavy snowfall and nodded. “I appreciate the offer. I hope I’m not putting you out too much.”
“Not at all,” Eliza inserted before Sarah could answer. “We’re glad to have you. I’m sure you and Sarah will enjoy catching up with each other.”
Enjoy wasn’t exactly the word Sarah would have used. The last thing she wanted to do was share with Marcus all the trials she’d been through recently, but she had a feeling she was about to do just that. He’d always had a way of drawing her out when they were dating in high school.
“Will your husband be able to make it home through the storm, do you think?”
Sarah choked on her breath and Eliza audibly inhaled. Carl coughed to fill the sudden silence.
Marcus looked from one of them to another, his brow lowering over the bright blue of his eyes. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”
“Justin passed away last year at Christmas,” Sarah whispered over the lump in her throat.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“No. Of course you didn’t.”
“How about that coffee?” Eliza asked a little too brightly. She turned and bustled off into the kitchen.
Marcus threaded his fingers through his hair, ruffling the thick blond waves. He paced a few feet and then turned and strode back again, looking as uncomfortable as she’d ever seen him.
“Please sit down.” She couldn’t talk to him while he was pacing around like a caged tiger. “You’re making me nervous.”
He rubbed his palms down his thighs and gnawed at the inside of his cheek, eyeing the opposite end of the sofa from where Pops was sitting, but not moving to seat himself. The older man cleared his throat and stood.
“I think I’ll check on Onyx,” he said, his voice unusually scratchy. They didn’t often talk about Justin, and Sarah was afraid the topic was upsetting him—just what he didn’t need with his heart condition.
“Why don’t you go lie down and rest for a bit?” she suggested.
He nodded. “Maybe I will.”
Marcus waited until Carl had left the room before gingerly seating himself on the edge of the couch, his back ramrod straight as he leaned forward and clasped his hands between his knees. His gaze met hers, an outpouring of sympathy and curiosity.
Where did she even begin?
He smiled openly, encouraging her to speak without actually speaking. When he finally did say something, his words were the exact opposite of what she’d expected. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’d rather not.”
Suddenly the need to unburden herself flooded her chest and she was unable to stop herself. She’d carried this load alone for far too long. The farm and the girls kept her too busy to maintain close friendships with anyone in town, and she couldn’t burden her in-laws with her doubts and fears. Marcus would be leaving as soon as the snow let up. What difference would it make if she shared some of the more difficult portions of her life with him? It wasn’t as if she was going to see him again. And he always had been a good listener.
“No, I don’t mind. I just don’t want to upset Granny and Pops. Justin has been gone for a year now, but the loss is still tender for them.”
He nodded. “I can imagine. For you and the children, as well.”
She nodded and tried to swallow around the lump of emotion clogging her throat, blinking back the tears that burned in the corners of her eyes. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry in months, and now already today she’d been on the verge of tears several times.
Eliza returned with steaming red-and-green-striped mugs of coffee, then excused herself and followed her husband down the hall. Sarah watched silently until she was out of sight.
“How’d you meet Justin?” Marcus asked.
That wasn’t the question she’d expected and it took her off guard. Most people only wanted to know how he’d died, not how they’d met.
“In a marketing class my last year of college. He was twelve years older than me and I thought the fact that his family owned a Christmas tree farm was romantic.” She laughed drily at the irony. She and Justin had had a happy marriage, but nothing over-the-moon and starry-eyed. Not as she’d felt when she was with Marcus. “We dated for a little over a year and then he asked me to marry him.”
Marcus’s smile looked strained. She couldn’t blame him. It was an odd conversation to be having with an ex. “You said yes, obviously.”
“It seemed like the next logical step.”
His eyebrows rose. “Logical?”
She shrugged. “You know me. Ever the pragmatist.”
“I remember. You told me not to bring you flowers so often because they faded and died within a week and my money could be better spent on other things.”
“Which is true. As I recall, you never listened to me.”
“That’s because you deserve pretty things and I enjoyed giving them to you.”
Her stomach fluttered when she realized he’d used the present tense of deserve, as if he still felt something for her. He’d always had the habit of saying things that ruffled her. Apparently that hadn’t changed with time.
“The farm belongs to Justin’s family. I moved out here and did computer coding work at home until Onyx came along. After that I dropped back to part-time so I could take care of her.”
“And Jewel?”
“Jewel was born after Justin passed away. His accident was on Christmas Eve last year. I was three months pregnant at the time.”
Marcus captured her gaze with his, his eyes clouding with sympathy and concern.
She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her, especially since the story was only going to go downhill from here. She remembered how naturally empathetic and sensitive Marcus was, how he’d always seemed to be able to feel her emotions. He rode her roller coaster of highs and lows right along with her. The more she told him now the worse it would be. Her pride flared at the realization that he might pity her. She couldn’t even stand to think about that.
Her current position wasn’t entirely her fault. Most of the blame lay at Justin’s feet. But she owned up to her own role in the drama.
A deep, undecipherable sound echoed from his throat. He reached for her but she instinctively jerked back. If Marcus put his arms around her right now she would lose it, and she refused to cry in front of him.
He lowered his arms, his hands twitching into fists. The corners of his full lips bowed downward, and her stomach churned. She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, but she had only a tenuous hold on her own emotions and she simply couldn’t risk it.
“There was an unexpected storm on the day before Christmas last year—much like this one. It came out of nowhere and created whiteout conditions on the roads.
“Onyx had seen a television commercial for this specific doll and it was all she talked about for a good month solid. Naturally it was the top-selling girl’s toy that year. We’d planned to do our shopping on Black Friday but no matter how many stores we hit, we couldn’t get our hands on that exact doll, and we knew nothing else would do for her. We called dozens of stores but couldn’t find it anywhere. We checked online but people were selling the doll at ridiculous prices, as if it were some kind of collector’s item and not a piece of cheap plastic in a fabric dress.”
He chuckled softly. “Crazy, right? I remember desperately wanting a Tickle Me Elmo toy for Christmas when I was a kid. I didn’t get it, although I sincerely doubt my mom put much effort into finding one.” Marcus’s voice lowered, rough with bitterness, and Sarah knew why.
His mother was an alcoholic who’d abandoned her family when Marcus was five. Unless something had changed in the years since Sarah had last seen him, he hadn’t heard from his mother even once since she left, not even when he graduated from high school.
And as if that wasn’t enough trauma for a child to go through, his dad had died in a tractor accident when he was nine, leaving him and his older brother, Matt, to be raised by Sheryl, his grandmother on his father’s side of the family. She was a faithful and kind woman who’d given him a good Christian upbringing and had showered him with love. At the end of the day, his grandma had turned out to be a great blessing to him, but Sarah didn’t blame him for harboring a bit of resentment in his heart toward his mother. He’d been through a lot.
“I remember Elmo, too. What a silly little toy that was. The doll Onyx wanted had a different cry for when she was wet or hungry.”
“A doll that bawls when she gets hungry? That sounds kind of creepy to me.”
Sarah nodded. She agreed wholeheartedly about that doll and she hated it for what it represented. Justin’s death. Her deep and abiding sense of loneliness. Even though she still had a loving family surrounding her, sometimes she felt as if she were all alone in the universe. Even her prayers seemed to bounce back at her.
“On the morning of Christmas Eve, we got a call from a local toy shop in Golden. They had one doll available if we could get into town before the store closed. I told Justin that I didn’t think it was worth going out in the storm. The weather conditions were terrible. Onyx had plenty of other gifts to open. She wouldn’t have felt deprived. But he was always a stubborn man, and he insisted he could make it if he went out on his ATV. He would have done anything for his precious little girl.”
Marcus nodded.
“He phoned me when he made it to town safely and picked up the doll for Onyx.” She could barely force the words through her dry lips. “He said the roads weren’t as bad as he’d thought they would be and not to worry about him. But he never made it back. He hit a patch of black ice on the road and slid into a tree. Died instantly.”
Marcus reached for her again, and this time she let him envelop her free hand in his large, steady one. He pulled her gently to her feet, careful not to wake Jewel, who was now sleeping in the crook of her arm.
He swept a stray lock of hair behind her ear and let his palm linger on her cheek. “I’m so, so sorry for everything you’ve suffered. My heart goes out to you. And it explains a lot.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant. Explained what?
She tried to read his gaze, but it contained such a mixture of emotions that she couldn’t even begin to sort them out and make any sense of them.
Truthfully, she was afraid to try.
She wondered if he could feel her tremble under his touch as he brushed the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone.
“I’m going to make you a promise right here and now,” he declared, his voice raspy. He put the palm of her hand on his chest, over his heart, which was beating rapidly. “I won’t leave this house until you’re certain it’s safe for me to do so. Okay?”
His thoughtfulness overwhelmed her and she blinked back the tears stinging her eyes. “What about Christmas? Isn’t your grandmother expecting you?”
His smile returned, gentle yet confident. “I’m sure she’ll understand. Besides, I’ve still got a couple of days yet, and it’s only a ten-hour drive to get to Grandma Sheryl’s ranch. Twelve if I stop for meals and to stretch my legs. Plenty of time to make it home for the holidays.”
He reached for his cell phone in his back pocket. “I should probably call her before it gets too late and let her know I’ll be staying over here tonight. That way she won’t worry and she’ll know when to expect me.”
He glanced at his cell and frowned. “Hmm. No bars.” He held the phone above his head and did a little dance, walking around and waving his arm in an attempt to find better reception.
“The storm is probably messing with the cell tower. You may have to step out on the porch to get any bars. I sometimes find better reception when I go outside. Bundle up, though, or you’ll freeze to death out there.”
He winked at her. “No need. I’ll only be a moment.” He strode to the front door, yanked on his boots and put on his hat. He ducked his head as he stepped out into the blizzard, only looking back long enough to grin at her and make a shivering motion with his arms.
As he closed the door, she could hear him laughing. It had been a long time since there had been laughter in the house.
Far too long.
Chapter Three (#ulink_92ae262b-6c9c-51c6-8259-8417fe0e3817)
There was no cell phone reception at Sarah’s ranch.
None. Zero. Zip.
Not inside the cabin and definitely not outside in the bitter cold. The freezing wind was blowing snow down the collar of his shirt and he was turning into an icicle. He should have listened to Sarah when she’d told him to bundle up. His thick wool coat would be a welcome commodity right now, but he’d intended to be outside for only a moment. The joke was on him.
He’d intended to dial Grandma Sheryl to touch base with her. Assure her he was safe and that he’d still be home for Christmas. Let her know that he was still planning to bring the horses as soon as the snow let up. While he was on the phone, he’d also wanted to ask her why she’d purchased Sarah’s draft horses—and speaking of Sarah, why Grandma had failed to mention that the horses belonged to his high school sweetheart. That couldn’t possibly have been an oversight on her part, and Marcus was more than a little bit suspicious that this whole setup was part of some misguided matchmaking scheme Grandma Sheryl had concocted.
If only she knew just how far off she was.
He waved his phone in the air one more time for good measure, praying for even a single bar to pop up. He wasn’t surprised when he got nothing. At this rate it would be a blessing if he even managed to make it home in time for the holidays.
He especially didn’t want to miss out on Christmas this year. According to Grandma Sheryl, his older brother, Matt, was already at the ranch. There had been tension between the two boys since the day their father died. They weren’t close. The whole family hadn’t been together in years. Though he doubted Matt felt the same way about him, Marcus was looking forward to seeing his brother again, even if things remained strained between them—and even if he had to share news from their mother that might serve to pull them further apart. Their mother had recently contacted Marcus and wanted to reconcile with him and Matt. It was certainly not the type of thing one said over the phone.
He envied Matt, who was already at the ranch with Grandma, enjoying her homemade cookies and fudge. His mouth was watering already. They were going to be worried if they didn’t hear from him, but there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it, short of sending smoke signals. Hopefully the storm would die down by tomorrow and he’d be able to be on his way.
Despite the deep longing to be home for Christmas, the thought of driving away from Sarah clouded his chest with emotion. It had been so many years since they’d seen each other. At one time she’d been the most important person in the world to him. Now that they’d run across each other’s paths again, or more accurately, had been craftily thrown together by his mischievous grandmother, it seemed a shame just to leave without renewing their acquaintance. Much had happened to him during the years they’d been apart, and he imagined she had many stories to tell, as well.
Then again, maybe they would do little more than exchange numbers and stay in touch this time, and not let twelve years go by without seeing one another as they had last time. Could they even be friends now?
“Where’s the baby?” he asked as he returned to the cabin, welcoming the warmth that enveloped his frosty limbs. He shivered and rubbed his hands over his biceps. He expected Sarah to come back with an “I told you so,” but she didn’t say a word.
She was still seated on the raggedy armchair, her elbows propped on her knees. Her somber gaze was fastened to the contents inside the coffee mug she held clasped in her hands, and the slight hint of a frown hovered on her lips. She appeared as if she were searching for answers in the depths of the black liquid.
She looked up, her eyes shaded by dark circles. “Asleep. I put her down in her crib for a nap.”
“Wait—didn’t she just wake up from a nap?”
She chuckled drily. “Babies have a fairly predictable rhythm. Sleep, eat, soil their diapers. Wash, rinse, repeat. Pretty much twenty-four hours a day at first, which is why parents of newborns usually look so ragged. It’s better now that she’s six months old—she is awake for longer periods and interacts with her surroundings. Still, I think all the excitement might have been too much for her.”
Was that why Sarah appeared so world weary? Because she had to care for her baby twenty-four/seven?
“Parents have to be available according to the baby’s cycle,” she continued, “even in the middle of the night.” Her gray eyes lightened to the color of heather. Her gaze was tender, and just the smallest hint of a smile played about her lips.
Marcus took a breath. It was a relief to see her countenance brighten, even if it was only a shadow of the woman he’d once known.
“You’ll experience all the sleep deprivation firsthand when you become a father.”
His gut knotted. A father? He still held a grudge with his own mother a mile long and wasn’t absolutely convinced he would succeed as a parent where his own had failed. Still, he remembered a time when he’d wondered what it would be like to be a dad—to Sarah’s children. He might even have been able to overcome his apprehension, if their lives had taken a different turn.
After she’d broken up with him, he’d put all notions of a wife and family aside. He’d told himself that it wasn’t because of Sarah, that his feelings must not have been any deeper than a teenage infatuation. Yet in all the years since, he hadn’t had one single long-term relationship. He was a social person and he dated a lot, but conscientiously backed off at the first sign that a woman might be getting serious about him. He didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. He just wasn’t in it for the whole race. He was perfectly content in his career working with the teenage boys at Redemption Ranch down in Serendipity, Texas—or at least he’d thought he had been.
Until today.
Now he couldn’t help but wonder—what might life have been like for him and Sarah, if things had turned out differently? If she hadn’t broken his heart?
He’d always known Sarah would be a wonderful mom. She was sweet and kind right down to her bones. The fact that she put Jewel’s needs before her own without a second thought didn’t surprise him at all, nor did it astonish him when she spoke of getting up in the middle of the night to care for her child as if it was a privilege and not a chore. Despite the stress she was obviously feeling at celebrating the holiday without her spouse, her expression softened whenever she spoke of her children.
She glanced up and met his gaze, a smile still lingering on her lips. “Were you able to get a hold of Sheryl?”
He shook his head and sat on the couch facing her, leaning forward and clasping his hands on his lap. “Nope. No service. I couldn’t get a single bar.”
“That happens a lot up here, especially when there’s a storm. I hope your grandma doesn’t worry about you.”
“Me, too. Although in this case I suspect she might not be surprised that I’m lingering, with or without the weather acting up. But I hate putting an extra burden on her.”
“An extra burden?” she repeated. She studied his face as if looking for an answer in his expression.
He’d said too much already. He pressed his lips and raised his brow. There was no need to get into his issues when she had enough of her own to deal with.
“You can tell me to mind my own business if you want, but I have the distinct impression you aren’t just talking about the delay caused by the snowstorm, are you?”
Well, one thing hadn’t changed from the time they’d been dating. She could still read him like a book.
“I wish I could say the storm was all that was worrying me, but that’s not entirely accurate.” He reached for the mug sitting on the end table beside him and took a sip of coffee Sarah had rewarmed for him, telling himself the burning in his throat was the result of the hot liquid and not the emotions roiling through him.
“Is Sheryl ill?” Her voice raised in alarm.
“No, nothing like that. I didn’t mean to worry you. Grandma’s in perfect health, thank the Lord. It’s my mother.”
“Oh.” Sarah inhaled with an audible gasp. “What happened to her?”
“Nothing happened to her,” he corrected, shaking his head. “It’s more what happened to me. She called me a couple of weeks ago, right out of the blue. After all these years, she just phoned me and expected me to speak with her.”
“What did she want?”
“Reconciliation, I think. To be part of my life and Matt’s again, as if she can just waltz back in and take her place in our family like she never left. It was like a punch in the gut. Still is. I guess she decided to reach out to me and not Matt because I’m the sucker of the bunch.”
“No, you are not,” she exclaimed, rising to her feet and planting her hands on her hips. “Marcus Ender, I don’t ever want to hear you speak that way about yourself again. You are the nicest man I’ve ever met. If your mother chose to call you, it’s because she knows how kindhearted you are. That is not a bad trait to have. You should be proud of yourself.”
“She doesn’t know anything about me,” he retorted bitterly, staring down at his clenched fists, squeezing them until it hurt. “She was long gone before she had the chance to find out what kind of man I’d become.”
“No, you’re right. I spoke in haste.” Sarah dropped onto the couch next to him and tucked one leg underneath her so she was facing him. “She doesn’t deserve a son like you.”
Despite the fact that speaking about his mother always renewed the feeling that his heart had been chewed up and spit out, he was vibrantly aware of Sarah’s nearness, of her arm around his shoulders and the gentleness and understanding in her eyes. The air between them snapped with electricity.
She got him, right to the depths of his being. She was the only one who ever had. The realization was accompanied by an inexplicable feeling of loss.
“I can see where you think she might be taking advantage of you.” Sarah’s voice rippled along the pathway of his nerves.
“You don’t think she is?”
He didn’t know why he was sharing such intimate details of his life with her, except that he needed to unburden himself and she’d been a solid rock for him during his turbulent teenage years. Until today he hadn’t told a single soul about his conversation with his mother, not even his best friend, Tessa, who worked as the girls’ counselor at Redemption Ranch. He was proud of the work he’d done at Redemption Ranch, but being the counselor—the one who helped others through their problems—sometimes made him feel as if he wasn’t allowed to have problems of his own. Everyone expected him to have the answers and to be the strong one. And at times—times such as now—he just didn’t know how.
Somehow it felt right to unload his anxieties to Sarah. He’d depended on her in high school and he trusted her now. How well he remembered graduation day. Sarah had stood by him as he’d waited in vain for his mother to appear, hoped beyond hope that that would be the day she would change and realize the importance of family. Sarah had held his hand while he’d wept wounded tears.
“She says she’s sober.” He scoffed and shook his head. “She wants to meet up with me first and then eventually with Matt. Maybe try to repair some of what’s been broken.”
“How do you feel about that?”
He grunted. “I don’t know. Most of the time I’m too angry to even consider the possibility, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder. No matter what she’s done, she’s still my mother.”
Sarah absently brushed her hand across his shoulder. “She’s put you between a rock and a hard place, that’s for sure.”
“Right? And somehow I have to figure out what’s best for the whole family. I have to find a way to let Matt and Grandma Sheryl know that she wants to be a part of our lives. Matt’s going to be furious. I just hope he doesn’t take it out on me.”
“Can you find it in your heart to forgive her, do you think? Allow her to be a part of your life, even if your brother wants nothing to do with her?”
He blew out a breath and winced. That was the question he’d been asking himself for a week, and he wasn’t any closer to an answer now than he had been back then. “I don’t know, Sarah. I honestly don’t know.”
* * *
Sarah’s heart went out to Marcus. His mother had really done a number on him. She’d let her family down in the worst possible way, abandoning them and walking away without looking back. She was an alcoholic, which explained her actions but didn’t absolve them.
She could see the pain in Marcus’s eyes and felt it as if it were her own. His mother’s sudden return to his life was ripping his heart out. She wasn’t the least bit surprised that the woman had approached Marcus and not his bad-boy brother, Matt. Marcus was tenderhearted. He always tried to do the right thing—but what the right thing was in this situation was difficult to call.
Sarah’s first impulse was to suggest he toss his mom out on her ear should she dare to show up in person. She didn’t deserve any better than that, and it would spare Marcus from any additional pain she might cause. But that wasn’t Marcus’s way.
“What are you going to do?” she asked, sweeping her hand over the tense muscles of his shoulders and coming to land on his arm. His biceps tightened. Time had certainly worked in his favor in that regard. She didn’t remember him being so strong when she’d dated him in high school.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I told her I’d try to broach the subject with Grandma Sheryl and Matt, but I already know they won’t be too keen to hear the news that mom is suddenly ready for us. I highly doubt reconciliation will be on the menu, at least not for a long time to come.”
“Are you planning to meet up with her?”
“No.” He shook his head fervently and then shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Better I step forward than deny her and have her end up going after Matt. If I see her face-to-face, I’ll know right away if she’s lying about turning her life around. I suppose that’ll give me a better idea about what I should do next.”
Sarah opened her mouth to offer her support and then clamped it shut again. Surely he had many people in his life who would stand up with him during this trial—if not his family, then at least some close friends. He was nothing if not a social being. She was in a bad place in her life right now. She had nothing to offer him. And as for the two of them—
Well, there was no two of them. Not anymore.
She was still debating on what she should say to him when the lights flickered. She groaned.
His gaze widened. “Are we going to—”
He never finished his sentence. The lights flared once, she heard a loud bang and then everything went dark. It was twilight outside and there was still a small measure of gray light pouring in from the windows, but she knew it would be only a matter of minutes before they would be cast into the pitch-blackness of mountain living.
“Electrical outage?” Marcus asked.
She nodded. Onyx darted into the room, clutching her stuffed brown bunny and whimpering. “I heard a scary sound, Mama.”
Before Sarah could say a word, Marcus crossed the room and held out his hands to the little girl. Onyx didn’t hesitate. She climbed right into his arms and clung to his neck.
“It’s okay, little darlin’,” Marcus assured the three-year-old. One side of his mouth crept upward as he met Sarah’s gaze. That crooked grin had always made her heartbeat quicken, and now was no exception. She’d never found him more attractive in her life than in the moment he stepped in to console her child. “We’re going to play a little game right now. It’ll be fun. Do you like flashlights?”
Onyx nodded and Marcus shifted her to one side so he could dig into the front pocket of his jeans. He withdrew his key chain and pressed the button on a tiny silver flashlight, waving the beam toward the wall so Onyx could see the light dance against the shadows.
“Can you be a big girl and hold the flashlight for your mama and me while we gather some supplies together? It’ll be just like camping out. Do you like to camp?”
Onyx squealed in delight as Marcus handed her the flashlight and showed her how to use it. For not the first time that day, Sarah’s eyes burned with unshed tears. During the summertime, Justin had often taken the family fishing and hiking. They were some of Sarah’s fondest memories, although she doubted Onyx was old enough to recall such outings.
“Do you have a backup generator?” he asked, directing the question to Sarah. “How long do you think it will be before the electrical company can get the power back up?”
“We had a generator when the farm was doing well. After Justin passed away, I had to sell it.”
He studied her, his golden eyebrows lowering.
She tipped her chin and squared her shoulders. She knew he’d picked up on what she’d said—or rather, hadn’t said—about the debts she owed, but she refused to let him pity her.
“I’m not sure about the power company,” she continued. “It might take a while. It sounded like something major blew up just before the lights went out. A transformer, maybe? Once a couple of years ago I remember when a drunk driver rammed his truck into a transformer near the farm. We were without power for a week. I had to do all my cooking in the fireplace.
“We ate a lot of hot dogs that week.” She chuckled. “But that was in the middle of the summer, so it wasn’t quite so bad, temperature-wise. A little stuffy in the daytime, but it still got chilly at night. But now we’re stranded in a snowstorm.”
He nodded in agreement. “It’s going to get cold in here.”
Freezing cold, like an icebox. And fast. She focused on her breathing, refusing to give in to the panic rising in her chest. “I guess the first order of business is going to be lighting a fire in the hearth. Marcus, if you wouldn’t mind gathering an armful of logs, I’ll pull together some old newspapers for kindling. There should be some wood stacked in the bin just outside the back door. Through the kitchen and then to the right.” She pointed to the kitchen and crooked her finger to indicate which way he should go.
“I’ll wear my coat this time,” he said, winking at Sarah as he plopped Onyx onto the armchair. “Will you keep holding that light for your mama while I’m gone?” he asked the child, who beamed up at him as if he held the sun in the sky. “You’re a big girl. Your mama really depends on your help.”
Sarah shivered at the icy breeze that blew through the house when Marcus opened the back door and stepped outside. It was already several degrees cooler in the cabin, and the temperature was dropping at an alarming rate. She hoped Marcus would hurry in with the wood. She was already feeling a chill, and she had an infant and elderly parents-in-law to worry about. They’d be especially susceptible to the cold.
“Onyx, honey, let’s go find Jewel, Pops and Granny. I’ll bet they’ll want to see the big, roaring fire Mr. Marcus is going to help us build.”
“Can we cook hot dogs?” Onyx asked as they walked down the hall to where Jewel was napping. “And roast marshmallows?”
Sarah laughed. She hadn’t seen Onyx’s eyes light up like this in a very long time.
Too long.
“I think that’s a great idea. I might even have some graham crackers and chocolate bars around here somewhere. We can make big, smushy s’mores for dessert.”
“Yay! S’mores!”
Maybe Onyx remembered more about camping with her father than Sarah had imagined. That concerned her. She was ashamed to realize she hadn’t put much effort into doing “fun” things with Onyx since Justin’s death. She’d been so preoccupied with the debts and obligations her husband had left her that she hadn’t spent the time she should have finding ways to make her daughter smile again.
She crouched down to give Onyx a hearty hug and kiss, but the girl quickly wriggled out of her grasp. Chuckling, Sarah stood and scooped Jewel from her crib, wrapping her in a warm blanket. Then she stopped by Pops and Granny’s room to let them know about her plan to light a fire and congregate in the living room. She also suggested they both throw on an extra layer of clothing. Pops especially was vulnerable to the cold these days. His circulation wasn’t what it used to be.
“We’ll gather some blankets and be right with you,” Granny assured her. Pops simply grunted his assent.
Sarah returned to the living room, expecting Marcus to be hunched over the hearth lighting the fire, but there was no sign of him. Where was he with the firewood? Surely it couldn’t take him that long to grab an armful of logs from just outside the back door.
She entered the kitchen with Jewel propped on her hip and Onyx following close behind her, waving the beam of light across the walls and exclaiming in delight at the shadows it made. Sarah pulled the curtain aside to peek out into the backyard.
To her surprise, Marcus wasn’t on the porch. He’d shed his coat and was angling an ax at a slab of wood he’d perched on the chopping block.
Why was he chopping logs? Didn’t they have any wood in the bin? To her dismay, she suddenly remembered she’d used the last of it in October during the first big snowstorm of the year. She’d been meaning to refill the bin, but time had gotten away from her and she’d forgotten all about it.
And now poor Marcus was out there battling the elements on her behalf. She was ashamed of herself for the oversight, but how much worse would it have been if Marcus hadn’t been here? She would have been the one splitting logs in the whiteout, and she wasn’t nearly as competent with an ax as Marcus appeared to be. She imagined his fingers and toes were turning icy with the cold, but he swung away regardless.
She breathed a prayer of thanksgiving for the Lord’s provision, that He’d somehow orchestrated events so Marcus was here during the blackout. But poor Marcus!
She couldn’t even make him a cup of hot cocoa to warm him up when he came inside. At least not until they had the fire going.
While she waited for Marcus, she tended to other things that needed doing, creating a mental checklist and ticking items off as she went. First up was digging out some old newspapers from the office for kindling. Then they needed blankets, flashlights and maybe even a few candles. She also had a couple of LED lanterns she kept in the hall closet for situations like this.
If the electricity remained out, and her gut instinct told her it would be a while before it came back on, they’d all need to sleep in the living room near the warmth of the fire. The couch folded out for the grandparents and she could blow up an air mattress for her and Onyx. Jewel would sleep in the porta-crib. But she had no idea what she was going to do with Marcus.
Speaking of Marcus...
She returned to the kitchen and glanced out the window to see how he was doing. He was still chopping away. Despite the weather, he’d shed his coat and sweat glistened on his brow. She couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles contracted and released with every swing of the ax. His jaw was set tight and he was striking the wood with fervency that Sarah sensed went beyond just the desire to be back inside where it was warm.
No—it was more than that. Maybe he was releasing his stress from their conversation about his mother. Or was it being here with her that was causing him concern? They hadn’t anticipated encountering each other after all these years, and he hadn’t planned to stay cloistered in the cabin with her and her family until the weather had given him no other choice in the matter.
Now not only were they stranded, but he’d have no option but to be thrown together with her entire brood in order to stay warm. Nothing like being a confirmed bachelor locked in with an ex-girlfriend, a cranky old couple, a fussy baby and a raucous preschooler. Marcus was a nice guy—the best—but this situation went beyond inconvenient and straight into uncomfortable.
She returned to the living room and set up the porta-crib so Jewel could amuse herself with her toys. Onyx was still playing with the flashlight, and Sarah could hear Carl and Eliza quietly spatting about something or other as they rummaged through the hall closet.
A couple of minutes later, Marcus shuffled in, his arms loaded with wood for the fire. Tiny icicles glistened in his golden hair like a crown.
“I think the temperature dropped a good ten degrees just in the time I was out there,” he said, dropping to his knees in front of the fireplace and carefully arranging the logs around wads of newspaper. “I filled up the bin just in case the blackout lasts beyond tonight.”
“Thank you. And I’m so sorry,” Sarah apologized.
“For what?”
“I didn’t mean for you to have to chop all that wood yourself. When I sent you out, I’d forgotten that I used the last of what I had back in October during the first flurry. It just slipped my mind that I needed to chop some more logs and refill the bin.”
He leaned back in a catcher’s crouch, bracing his forearms on his knees as he watched the fire roar to life. He glanced back, grinning at Sarah.
“Trust me, it was no problem. My long legs have been cramped in my truck for two days. I enjoyed getting the chance to stretch and swing the ax. That little bit of exercise did me good.”
“Well, I apologize just the same. Now, why don’t you relax by the fire for a while?”
He stood so fast that she didn’t even see him coming. He took her by the shoulders and guided her to the easy chair, gently pressing her into it. He spoke sweet nonsense words to Jewel as he picked her up and placed her on Sarah’s lap. “You’re the one who needs to relax.”
“But I’ve got to scrounge something up for dinner. Open a few cans of whatever I’ve got in the pantry.”
“Nope,” he said, holding his hands palm out to stem her flow of words. “I don’t think so.”
Chapter Four (#ulink_4e8cd973-c82c-5d52-9a34-740cb1b85ff6)
Marcus wasn’t about to sit around and let Sarah do all the work while he lounged by the fire.
“You sit tight and take care of those beautiful children of yours. I’ll get supper on for us.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
He flashed her a toothy grin. “I know. I want to.”
“Oh. Well, then...” She didn’t appear to have the energy to argue with him, which was just exactly why he wanted to take care of her right now. Er—take care of the meal. Sarah had enough on her proverbial plate just watching out after her family.
“Hot dogs. I want a hot dog,” Onyx exclaimed, jumping up and down and clapping her hands.
He laughed and gave the child a friendly bow. “Hot dogs it is, little lady. Your wish is my command.”
He paused and raised an eye at Sarah. “Guess I should have asked first—do we have hot dogs?”
“In the meat drawer. Try not to keep the refrigerator door open too long or you’ll let out all the cold air.”
He winked. “We wouldn’t want cold air in the house, now, would we?”
She chuckled. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, darlin’, I do.”
“I also have marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate bars in the pantry.”
“S’mores.” He smacked his lips exaggeratedly. “Sounds like a meal to me.”
“Sounds like dessert,” Sarah corrected, wagging a finger at him. “After a healthy, well-balanced meal.”
He burst into a hearty laugh. Marcus had the most contagious laughter of anyone she’d ever known, and it wasn’t long before everyone in the room joined in.
“We may have to resort to canned fruits and vegetables to round out the meal,” Sarah said. “We had fresh apples and green grapes in a basket on the kitchen table, but I think they may be gone by now. The grapes, anyway. Little fingers love to sneak a few when Mama’s not looking.”
Eliza murmured something to Sarah and Marcus headed to the kitchen. It didn’t take him long to scrounge up a meal, with no cans included or necessary. A quick glance into the refrigerator brought him cheese, bread and the package of hot dogs Onyx had requested. It made him happy to make that little girl smile.
There were a few apples left in the basket on the table. Not enough for everyone to have one, but he could cut them into slices with a paring knife.
Rummaging through the pantry for the goodies for the s’mores, he stumbled across a picnic basket. He looked inside and discovered a red-checked tablecloth and plastic plates, cups and utensils. Perfect. An idea of how to make the adventure more fun for everyone popped fully formed into his mind.
Grinning, he packed his stash in the basket, including a bottle of sparkling cider and a couple of large wooden skewers that would be just right for cooking hot dogs over an open flame.
“Anyone up for a picnic?” he called as he entered the living room. “I’ve got hot dogs. And fixings for s’mores.”
“I am, I am,” Onyx exclaimed. It seemed to Marcus that once the child started talking, she had two volumes—loud and louder. He liked everything about her. She was the cutest little thing he’d ever seen. Well, maybe after her mother.
He glanced at Sarah, who mouthed a silent, “Thank you.” He grinned and nodded. It was his pleasure. Truly.
While Marcus assisted Onyx in cooking her hot dog over the fire, Sarah laid out all the goodies on the red-checked tablecloth, which she spread across the floor in front of the coffee table. She even lit a couple of fragrant green pillar candles that filled the room with the pleasant scent of pine trees. Fitting, considering where they were.
Carl offered a blessing, and conversation hummed as they shared their simple meal together. Carl and Eliza were full of stories about the Christmas tree farm. They spoke of their love for the guests who visited with such nostalgia it put an ache in Marcus’s heart. Clearly they weren’t running the business this year. Justin’s death had hit them all hard. They were good people. He wished there was some way he could bring some joy back into their lives.
Sarah regaled him with some crazy antics involving the reindeer, Snort and Crash. Onyx loved the horses and riding in the sleigh.
Marcus swallowed around the lump in his throat when he realized he was here to take the horses away. What kind of Christmas present was that?
No. He couldn’t do that to the little girl, or to her mama. He wouldn’t. He’d call up Grandma Sheryl as soon as his cell phone service turned back on and tell her he was leaving the Percherons right where they were. He’d pay her back with his own money and purchase another team of draft horses for Grandma, if it came to that.
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