Home on the Ranch--The Cowboy's Dilemma

by Pamela Britton

  She would never remember picking up the toys on her list. She must have paid for them, too. At least she sure hoped so because if she didn’t, she’d just shoplifted for the first time in her life. Somehow she made it home, too, staring at the blinking Christmas tree in her front room and feeling so bleak and lonely that if she’d been a different kind of person she might have drowned her sorrows, pregnancy or not. But she would never jeopardize the health of her child.

  She didn’t sleep very well that night or the next. The days marched toward Christmas and she wondered what Flynn was doing. She knew the Gillians were big on Christmas holidays. No doubt he was wrapping presents and spending time with his family.

  A car pulled up.

  And for a moment, a brief, breathtaking moment, her heart raced.

  Flynn.

  Only it wasn’t Flynn. It was her mother.

  Oh, damn.

  She’d known she was probably still in town. The plan had been for her to go back home just before Christmas. She’d left her baby shower confessing her intention to turn her trip into a sightseeing tour, a Christmas present to herself, and Amy hadn’t protested. Strangely, the fact that she hadn’t wanted to spend time with Amy hadn’t hurt. Well, not as much as she would have thought. Ava was right. It was time to stop feeling so sorry for herself.

  “Mom,” she said, forcing a smile on her face. “What are you doing here?”

  Her mom’s green eyes—so much like her own—widened. “What do you mean what am I doing here? I told you I would come by before I left.”

  Should she be hurt her mom didn’t want to spend Christmas with her? Oddly, she wasn’t.

  “Come on in,” she said, pasting a smile on her face.

  Her mom took two steps into her place and paused. “Wow, Amy, this is really tiny.”

  She took a deep breath. “I know? Isn’t it perfect?”

  Her mom paused near the family room, which was also near the kitchen and her bedroom because, yes, her rental was really, really small. But it worked. And she was grateful for it.

  But it never felt small when Flynn was around.

  She had to stop thinking about him. Or maybe not. Maybe Ava was right. Maybe it was time to get her mother out of her head.

  “Have a seat,” she told her mom.

  “Oh, no, I can’t. I only came by to give you a hug and say goodbye and to give you this.” She handed Amy a box she hadn’t even noticed her carrying.

  “What’s that?”

  “Open it up on Christmas Day.” She glanced at the tiny tree in the corner of her family room. There weren’t any presents under it.

  “Well,” Amy said before her mom could make a derogatory comment about that, “goodbye.”

  Her mom frowned. Amy stepped away, puzzled.

  “Look, Amy, before I go, I wanted to apologize for some of the things I said at the baby shower.”

  “Oh?” Amy asked, playing innocent even though inside she could have been knocked over with a feather. “What things?”

  “Oh, you know. Inferring you’d gained weight. That you would have to work hard to be a good mother. That kind of thing.”

  She really did feel like she could fall over in shock.

  “Your friends made me realize some of my words were a little insulting.”

  “My friends?”

  Her mom nodded. “They took me aside afterward. Jayden, Charlotte, Ava. Even that famous race-car driver who showed up late. What’s her name? Kait? She was in on it, too, although you didn’t have to sic them on me like that.”

  “I didn’t sic them on you.”

  “Sure, honey. You could have come to me and talked things out with me. You didn’t have to make them be the bad guys.”

  Amy crossed her arms in front of her, although, perversely, she felt something rise inside her that she couldn’t immediately put a name to.

  “Mom, I didn’t ask them to talk to you. If they pulled you aside, it was entirely their doing.”

  Her mom’s bleached brows lifted in shock. “You must have said something to them.”

  Elation. That was what it was. And, and...she mulled over the emotions coursing through her. Gratitude. And love. She felt love toward her new posse of friends. They had taken the time out of their busy lives to defend her. To try to help her. To hold a looking glass up to her mom in the hopes that she would see herself in a different light.

  God love them.

  “I didn’t say a word to them, Mom. Believe me. I’m used to your little barbs. They don’t affect me anymore.”

  That was an out-and-out lie. They did hurt. They would always hurt. But maybe not so much anymore. Maybe she had finally begun to believe that there was no truth to most of them. That, for some reason, her mom had to say terrible things in order to make herself feel better.

  “What do you mean?” her mom asked. “I don’t always make digs like that. I might have said a few things at the party that didn’t come out right, but I was tired from the trip. That’s all.”

  Amy took a step back, finding the arm of her couch and perching on it. For the first time in her life she felt free, and it was the oddest sensation, this lightening of her spirits. She didn’t care if her mom might be offended by what she was about to say. It really didn’t matter to her anymore because she had people in her life who loved her just the way she was.

  Including Flynn.

  “Mom, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re always super critical. I grew up always dodging your next little bomb.”

  Her mom opened her mouth. Amy held up a hand.

  “It’s true. Whether you see it or not, it’s true. But I’ve realized in recent weeks that God made you the way you are for reasons only He can understand. And then God made me, and I’m perfect just the way I am, faults and all, because I know I have them.”

  You broke Flynn’s heart out of fear.

  Fear that she wasn’t good enough. Fear of what her mom might think. Fear that he would break her heart. Just like Ava had inferred.

  “I’m in love with Flynn Gillian,” she admitted.

  “Who?”

  And Amy almost laughed. How perfectly ironic. Her first heartfelt vow of love and her mom didn’t even know who he was.

  “Jayden’s brother,” she said. “It’s a long story, but I wanted you know. I’m in love with a man who’s not my baby’s father.” She patted her belly. “And I broke his heart because I was stupid and afraid, but I’m not anymore. I’m at peace.”

  Her mom clearly didn’t know what to say.

  “Is he rich?”

  And Amy laughed. She couldn’t help herself. Some things would never change.

  “Who cares if he’s rich? Although, to be honest, I don’t have a clue how much money he has. It doesn’t matter. Don’t you see? All that matters is that he loves me and I love him.”

  Free. She was soaring now.

  “I have no idea if he’ll ever forgive me, but I’m going to see if he will. But whatever happens, whether I end up with Flynn or not, if I deliver this baby with my friends by my side, or Flynn—if I’m alone or with my new family—you will be happy for me, Mom. And you will be kind. And you will support and love my baby and say kind things because if I catch you saying something negative around me ever again, I will send you home packing. Is that understood?”

  “Amy. What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about watching what comes out of your mouth, Mom. Thinking before you speak. Okay?”

  “I’m not sure where this is coming from. You’re the one who’s too sensitive—”

  “Hup-hup,” Amy interrupted, wagging a finger at her. “That’s what I’m talking about. That right there. No more, Mom. I’m not sensitive. I’m your daughter and I have feelings, feelings that you will respect from here on out. Capisce?”

 
; “Well, I suppose—”

  “Yes or no, Mom?”

  “Yes, I guess. I swear, sometimes you make no sense—”

  “MOM.”

  Her mom jumped a little. But for the first time in her life, Amy saw guilt on her mom’s face. Guilt and a dawning comprehension.

  “Now. Go on back home. I’ll call you next week. And you will be nice to me on the phone, okay?”

  Her mom nodded. Amy almost laughed. Her mom must have realized it was better to keep her mouth shut at this point. Maybe she wasn’t such a lost cause after all.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  That, at least, garnered a reaction. “I love you, too, Amy. I hope you know that.”

  A week ago she might have wondered. But now, with her mom standing in front of her, Amy spotted the contrition on her face and realized that in her own way, her mom really did love her. She was worthy.

  “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

  “Merry Christmas, honey.”

  They hugged again. Amy was surprised she wasn’t crying.

  “Go on, get out of here,” she told her mom, turning her toward the door. “Thanks for the present.”

  “I’ll be back before the baby’s born,” her mom said.

  “God help us.”

  Her mom stopped. “Now who’s being mean?”

  Amy laughed, “Touché, Mom. Touché.”

  She walked her mom out, but after she’d waved her down the driveway, after she sat there for a moment mulling the whole thing over, she pulled out her phone. She pulled up Flynn’s number by rote, selecting the text icon because she was too damn chicken to do anything else.

  Sorry.

  And then, after staring at the phone for a second, she typed, I love you.

  Chapter 21

  Flynn stared at the text for a full minute.

  “What is it?” Maverick asked, shutting the stall door, the horse he’d just turned loose turning to face them both.

  “Nothing,” he said, tucking the phone back into his pocket.

  I love you.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Maybe he had, he thought. In a way he had.

  “Just Aunt Crystal wondering if we’re coming up for Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow night,” he lied. “I don’t know why she’d ask that. We go every year.”

  Maverick’s eyes narrowed. Flynn ducked his head.

  “Yeah. That’s strange. Especially since I was just up there and she didn’t ask me a thing.”

  Okay, busted. But he didn’t want Maverick asking questions. Not now. Not when he didn’t know what to say or what to do or what it meant.

  I love you.

  What was she trying to tell him? He’d been half hoping she’d call him after they’d seen each other in the toy store. She hadn’t and his spirts had sunk more and more each day, until...

  What did it mean?

  “Speaking of Christmas, I have no idea why you bought Olivia that huge teddy bear. She won’t leave it alone.”

  He ducked his head again. “She wanted it.”

  After he’d dragged his niece out of the toy store he’d felt so bad that he found himself going back and spoiling her rotten. She hadn’t seemed to mind, and he’d gotten his Christmas shopping done.

  “Well, next time clear it with me, would you? The darn thing’s too big for her bed. She insists on sleeping on it every night.”

  I love you.

  Flynn followed his brother out to the parking lot, although his brother always walked from his home to the stables. For a brief second he considered showing Maverick the text, asking him what he thought it meant, but he chickened out at the last minute.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, right?”

  Flynn nodded, glancing up at the sky. Looked like rain. And it was cold. It rarely snowed in Via Del Caballo. The last time was twenty years ago, or so he’d heard on a newscast this morning, but it sure felt like it might.

  “Maybe we’ll get a white Christmas,” he told his brother.

  “That would make our nieces and nephews happy, that’s for sure. You remember when we were kids and it did that? Man, it was fun sliding down that hill.”

  “I do remember.”

  One of the best days of his life.

  I love you.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Maverick said.

  Flynn waved, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He turned back to the barn. He had a few last-minute things to do before he closed the stables for the Christmas holidays. Stalls to bed. Instructions to write. Calls to make.

  When he got home that night he was exhausted, but he pulled out his phone and stared at it once more. Did she want to see him? Was that why she’d sent the message? Should he call her?

  In the end, he took a deep breath, typing the words just before he went to bed.

  I love you, too.

  There. He’d done it. He’d confessed what was in his heart. The next move was hers, although he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to staying awake half the night, listening for her, wondering if she’d walk to his place like she had before. She didn’t and eventually he drifted off to sleep until the wee hours of the morning when the sound of a knock woke him up.

  He sat there in bed, eyes open, heart pounding, telling himself not to get his hopes up. But he was kidding himself. He practically ran to the front door.

  She stood there, bundled up in a thick jacket, and even though it was barely light out, he could spot how red her nose was from the cold.

  “I fell asleep,” she admitted.

  He wore a shirt and cotton briefs and it was damn cold standing in his doorway. He barely noticed.

  “I did, too.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t see your message until this morning.”

  “Oh.”

  They stood there, Flynn’s heart beating so fast that it could have been sixteen below and he wouldn’t have noticed. Nothing mattered but that she stood there in front of them, looking him in the eye and she seemed...different. Something had changed about her.

  “Can I come in?” she asked, shivering.

  He jerked back the door. “Yes. Of course. I’m sorry. I’m still half-asleep.”

  No, he wasn’t. He’d jerked awake the moment he’d heard her knocking on the door.

  She was here. In his home.

  “My mom came by,” she said, turning to face him, still bundled up in her jacket, hands tucked into pockets.

  “Oh?” he asked.

  “She gave me this.” She pulled something out of her pocket. He couldn’t make out what it was until she handed it to him.

  An ornament.

  It was flat and silver and he had to flip it over to see what it actually was. A picture frame, the words Baby’s First Christmas on the front.

  “That’s me right there,” she said, pointing. “I was supposed to wait until Christmas to open it, but I couldn’t wait.”

  He stared at it in puzzlement. This gift, an old ornament, meant something to her. He didn’t know why, but he sensed its importance.

  “My mom brought it all the way from Florida.” Her eyes had grown red and he knew her well enough that he knew she was on the verge of tears. “She kept it all these years.”

  “That’s neat,” he said because he didn’t know what else to say. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to pull her into his arms. But she had come here to show him that, and he waited patiently to explain why.

  “I was an ugly baby,” she admitted.

  He glanced down at the picture for a moment. “You were adorable.”

  She huffed with laughter. “Only someone in love with me could say that.”

  His breath caught for a moment. “I am in love with you.”

  “I know,” she said, her voice having
gone thick with tears. “When I saw you standing in that damn toy store, holding Olivia’s hand, my heart leaped, Flynn. It just leaped into my throat and I couldn’t move because the emotions I felt were so powerful they literally took my breath away. I saw you with Olivia and then I saw you in the future, holding my daughter’s hand, and I wanted to cry because I wanted that so badly for Abigail.”

  He gasped.

  Abigail.

  “Is that going to be her name?” he asked through a throat gone thick with tears.

  “Jayden told me that was your mother’s name and it somehow seemed fitting. Abigail. Abby for short.”

  His mom’s name. His own eyes filled with tears.

  “My mom gave this ornament to me, something she’d held on to for years, and then I read the inscription on the back and I just wanted to cry.”

  He flipped the ornament over again. “Merry Christmas from the Jensens,” he pretended to read.

  “That’s not what it says,” she said, swiping the thing away from him and then laughing and crying and shaking her head.

  “I know,” he said, suddenly serious again. “I read it when you first handed it to me.”

  “When I think about my life and what I’ve done right, I’m thankful every day God gave me you,” she recited.

  “I’m thankful, too,” he said.

  “She had that inscribed before I talked to her.” She met his gaze, her lashes holding on to her tears. “She came by yesterday and I told her she needed to be nicer to me and she tried—you could tell she was really trying there at the end to watch what she said to me. And the whole time she had this for me, and when I opened it and read it I cried, but that was after I sent you that text, not that it matters. The point is that my mom loves me. She really does. And I know that sounds crazy because every daughter knows their mom loves them, only I don’t know that I really did—”

  “Amy,” he said, suddenly on the verge of laughter again. “You’re rambling.”

  “Am I?”

  He took a step closer to her. “You are. You always do when you’re emotionally distraught.”