One Tough Christmas Cookie (The Reindeer Wrangler Ranch Christmas Romance Book 1)

by Lucy McConnell

  “They say laughter is the best medicine.” She laid her coat over a chair by the door and took in her Dad’s new digs. There was a large window with the shade drawn so the light didn’t bleach out the television picture. The bed wasn’t anything special, except that it had a rail to keep Dad from falling out like a toddler. The blanket was light blue, and the walls were cream. He had a dresser and a nightstand and didn’t have to share with anyone. All in all, it wasn’t a bad situation for him to recoup. Not only did he get three warm meals a day; he had a standing appointment with a physical therapist, control of the remote, and a nurse to check in on him.

  She took a deep breath and let the remaining resentment against her father for picking this place float away and disappear. He was in the best place for him right now. She had to be here to see that, but that was her issue, not his.

  The bigger problem was letting go of her own pride and expectations. Huh. How many times had she expected something out of her dad and he’d let her down? She didn’t know, nor could she come up with a number. She did have a number for how many times she’d told him about her expectations: zero. The man was an only child. How would he know what a daughter expected of her dad?

  She rubbed her forehead. The revelations were just pouring in this holiday season.

  “You okay?” Dad asked.

  She dropped her hand and sat on the edge of his bed. “Better than I deserve. We inoculated the reindeer yesterday against the flu Dunder has.”

  Dad’s eyes lit up and he sat up taller. Turning off the television, he folded his hands in his lap and asked, “Tell me about it?”

  His interest was too intense, and she leaned back. “It went fine. The animals aren’t what I expected.”

  Dad slapped his leg as he laughed.

  She grinned. “I know. You’ve been telling me for years they’re something special. I just didn’t expect so much personality.” Moving up on the mattress edge, she talked with her hands as she described the way Apples planted his front hooves and shook his head until Caleb bribed him with an apple. “I couldn’t believe that he’d had this apple in his pocket the whole time, like he expected to run into this problem.”

  Dad tapped the side of his nose. “The reindeer is named Apples for a reason.”

  She laughed, tipping her head back. “I guess I should have seen it coming. I thought it was because of his red pelt.”

  Dad chuckled.

  She settled back into place. “I think this is the best conversation we’ve ever had.”

  He patted her hand. “I wish it had happened years ago.”

  “Why didn’t it?” She glanced down at their hands. “Why didn’t you tell me about them—all of them?” She didn’t like the accusation in her voice but wasn’t sure what to do about it.

  He sighed heavily and his body sank into the mattress as if she’d laid a heavy burden on his chest. “I tried.”

  She thought back to his phone calls, the short times they’d spent together at the diner. “No, you didn’t. I don’t remember you ever telling me about Dunder or Sparkle or McJingles.” The reindeer who liked to wear bells and pull the sleigh around town had pranced into the chute like he was a dandy ready for grooming. A compliment on his regal bearing got her anything she wanted from the pretentious stud.

  Dad patted her hand absently. “Reindeer were a sore spot in our conversations.”

  Faith bit her lip, not wanting to say anything bad about her mother, who’d sacrificed so much for her; but she needed to understand. “Mom hated the reindeer—she said you chose them over us.”

  Dad ran his hand down his face. “There are two sides to that statement. Yes, I liked being on the ranch; it was a good place to get away from your mom. She thought marrying a veterinarian was her ticket to easy street.”

  Faith scoffed. She made a comfortable living, enough to support a family, but not the kind of money that would set her free financially. A memory popped up. “She didn’t want me to be a vet—said it was a dead end. It was only after you offered to pay tuition that she relented. She said the student loans would have overloaded me.”

  “She’s right. I was still trying to dig my way out from under them when she left.”

  Faith slouched. “I’m still not sure Mom’s attitude was enough to abandon us over.”

  “You think I abandoned you?” Dad’s face grew red. “I fought tooth and nail for custody, but fathers didn’t have the same rights back then, and the money for lawyers ran out real fast.”

  Dad turned his hand over and held on to hers like it was a lifeline. “I did the best I could, even knowing your mother was probably poisoning you against me. It tore me up.”

  Faith worked to fit this version of her life’s history in with what she already knew—what she’d lived. “You never said a bad word about Mom. I always felt like you just gave up.”

  “You had enough negative things in your life. I didn’t want to be one of them.”

  Tears threatened, and Faith did her best to hold them back, though she failed and had to wipe them away. “I was so mean to you.”

  Dad tugged her hand until she was in his arms. “I never felt that, baby girl. I just loved you and loved you.”

  She sniffed into his red flannel shirt. “We’re a mess.”

  He chuckled. “That we are.” He squeezed her and then pushed her back to sitting up. One look at her face had him groping for the Kleenexes on the nightstand. “Here, you’re flooding the place.”

  She hiccupped a laugh and did her best to wipe away the mascara running down her cheeks.

  Dad hemmed and hawed for a moment, like a man who didn’t know what to do when a woman cried. Faith chuckled at his discomfort.

  He groped for a topic to change the conversation. “Tell me about Rudy. I have this vague memory of you saying you’re going to perform surgery on him?”

  She nodded. This was something she was happy to talk about. “I think I can help him. It’s an elective surgery, though—the cost …”

  Dad swatted away her concern. “The wranglers can afford it; don’t worry about that.”

  She frowned. “And Caleb says he has to stay at the house with the animal. I’m not sure how I feel about that—mistrusted—that they won’t leave their animal in my care?”

  Dad squinted. “You’ve seen these reindeer and the bond they have with the wranglers.”

  She twisted the tissue. “I thought reindeer games were just in songs and fairy tales, but they played soccer with them. Well, a version of soccer, anyway.” She’d never forget the spirited game and the wranglers kicking a ball in their cowboy boots and trying not to slip all over the compacted snow while the reindeer returned it right back to them. There wasn’t a goal; it was more about passing the ball around during their lunch break than scoring points.

  Dad laughed heartily. “That’s always a good time. You should see what they can do with a Frisbee.”

  She smiled warmly. “I’d like that.” Hugging herself, she continued. “The ranch is … magical. I don’t know any other words to explain it.”

  Dad opened his mouth and then shut it quickly. He looked at the blanket and then at the ceiling, battling something internally.

  Faith waited him out.

  Finally, he shook his head. “They might not trust you.”

  She jerked back.

  “But it’s not them. It’s you, baby girl.”

  “Me.” She pointed to her chest. “What did I ever do to them?”

  He scratched at his cheek—covered in a week’s worth of whiskers. “If you’re going to be a part of reindeer ranch, you have to believe in the magic—all of it.”

  “Like what, Santa?” She snorted.

  “Yes.”

  The seriousness to his tone washed away her quick, sarcastic remark. “You’re telling me that those cowboys, with their felt hats and thick flannel shirts and beards, believe in Santa Claus?”

  He held her gaze.

  “You want me to believe in Santa Clau
s?” She shoved off the seat and began pacing. “Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”

  He laughed, stopping her in her tracks. “You bet I do. But it’s the only way. If you don’t believe, you’ll never earn the wranglers’ trust.”

  She folded her arms and sat down with a grunt. “I’m a grown woman.”

  Dad grinned. “Which is the other reason you don’t want Caleb at the house overnight.”

  “Hey.” She swatted at his leg, making him burst into belly laughs.

  “You’ve got it bad for the wrangler—don’t ya?”

  Faith’s face burned, and she pressed her cold fingers against her cheeks to cool down. “I’m not in love with him, if that’s what you think.”

  “But ya like him.”

  She nodded slowly as she mulled over the feelings in her heart. “I respect him. Which goes a long way with me. And he respects me. When I’m looking at a reindeer, he doesn’t try and tell me what I should be doing. I get plenty of that from old-time ranchers and farmers. They think that because I’m young—and a woman—I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Don’t get your hackles up. I know you’re more than qualified and capable.”

  Faith hadn’t realized how tightly her hands fisted until Dad told her to calm down. “I might have a chip on my shoulder about that.”

  Dad chuckled. “I don’t blame ya. You’re in a male-dominated field, and a lot of these old-timers,” he said with a wink, “come from a different era.”

  “Not the wranglers, though. All of them listened to me.” Even when she’d told Mr. Nichollas he was treating a hoof wound on one of the reindeer with an older technique, he’d listened intently. She’d half-expected him to dig in his heels and tell her he’d dressed wounds that way for thirty years and it worked just fine. But he didn’t. He took what she said to heart and made the change right there. The experience made her feel valued and a part of the team.

  Dad patted her hand. “Of course they did. Because you’re smart and they recognized it. Heck, I’ve been telling them for years that you have a better head on your shoulder than I ever did.” Dad laid his arms across his chest. He took in a deep breath.

  He was growing bags under his eyes as they spoke. It was time for Faith to leave so he could rest. She stood next to the bed, not remembering the last time she’d hugged her father goodbye. Leaning over, she pecked a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t give the nurses too much grief, okay?”

  He smiled softly. “Try to believe in something—or someone.”

  “I’ll think about it.” She squeezed his hand and then gathered her purse and coat from the chair by the door. Dad was already starting to doze off. Taking him in, she wondered when he’d gotten so old. Maybe it was the heart attack, but he didn’t seem like the indomitable force she’d always known. His shoulders were thinner, as was his gray hair. Her heartstrings tugged, and a thread of worry worked its way into her thoughts.

  Would he be able to come back to the practice? Not in the shape he was in right now. He wouldn’t have lasted twenty minutes in the field doing vaccinations—let alone the whole day.

  What would that do to the reindeer ranch?

  “Merry Christmas,” offered a nurse as she pushed a med cart down the hallway.

  “Merry Christmas,” Faith responded. She stopped and stared at the stocking with her dad’s name on it. It had glitter polka dots—which he’d probably think was fun.

  She reached out and ran her hand along the rough surface. Seemed everyone was in the holiday mood but her.

  Believe in Santa? Not likely. But she could help out a reindeer in need. That was the Christian thing to do. And she’d donate her time to keep the bill down. Her cheeks tugged, wanting to smile at the thought. Yeah, helping Rudy see well would be her Christmas gift to the reindeer and to the ranch.

  She pulled out her phone and dialed Caleb’s number. It was at the top of her recent calls list. Funny, but her partner hadn’t checked in for a couple days. Neither had she. She’d have to make that call next.

  “Merry Christmas,” Caleb answered the phone.

  She rolled her eyes even as her stomach made the same happy motion. “It’s me.”

  “I know—your name came up on my caller ID.”

  “Right.” Her skin felt like it sparkled like the glitter on the stocking at the sound of his deep voice coming through her phone. She hadn’t realized how much she missed being with him until right then. She’d been okay, and then, WHAM! All she wanted to do was see his blue, blue eyes and walk around the barn together. “Right.” She’d already said that. “I talked to Dad, and he’s fine with you staying at the clinic, so whenever you’re ready to—”

  “How about tomorrow?”

  She pulled the phone back to look at it in shock, then scrambled to get it back to her cheek. “W-what’s the rush?” She’d thought she would have a couple days to mentally prepare herself for sleeping under the same roof as Caleb.

  “It’s thirteen days until Christmas. If Rudy is going to be ready, we need to get started.”

  “The Main Street parade, right.” She ran a hand through her hair. “All right. I guess tomorrow will work. I’ll have the surgery room prepped by noon.”

  “Great. And Faith?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you. You have no idea what this means to Christmas.”

  She felt like she was in a river, trying to swim upstream against a current of Christmas lovers. “Yeah, well, Christmas can thank me when Rudy is all better.”

  “I wouldn’t mind thanking you then either.”

  His tone was low and intimate, brushing over her like a caress. She leaned against the wall for support. Her knees were all about letting this wrangler have his way with them—thankfully, the rest of her had a little more sense. “I’m interested.” She managed to sound as if she were light and flirty, even though she was breathing heavy and sweating in her hoodie and jeans.

  He chuckled. “It’s a date. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She said goodbye and hung up. Or maybe she’d only said it in her head because she was all kir-boppled over the promise in Caleb’s flirting. What did her dad say? That she had it bad for the wrangler?

  Maybe she did. The question was, what was she going to do about it?

  Chapter 13

  Caleb

  Caleb hung up the phone and threw both arms over his head. “Yes!”

  Mom startled at the stove and clutched her heart. “What in the world? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  “No way. You’re too young for that.” He kicked off his boots and crossed the kitchen to give Mom a side hug while she stirred gravy on the stove. “Something smells good.”

  “You’re not getting any.” She elbowed him in the belly, still sore that he’d startled her.

  Caleb wrapped her up and swung side to side. “I just talked to Faith. Rudy is on the schedule for surgery tomorrow.”

  “Whoop!” Mom hugged him back. She never held a grudge for long, and hugs were her currency. “That’s great news.”

  “It is, if it works.” He dipped a finger in the steaming gravy and sampled. “Hmm, needs more pepper.”

  She gently shoved him away and used a spoon to taste it herself. Without admitting he was right, she sprinkled pepper over the top. “Is there a chance the surgery won’t take?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure. Faith seems to think it’ll do the trick. Don’t tell her or Doc I said this, but she’s smarter than he is.”

  Mom zipped her fingers over her lips, but there was an interest in her eye that said she was listening to things he didn’t mean to say—specifically, how much he liked Faith. This was uneven ground with Mom. If she thought there was a chance of a wedding in the future, she’d be all over him.

  “It’s too bad she doesn’t believe in Santa.” He kept his head down but watched Mom out of the side of his eye for a reaction. “If she did, she’d be an asset to the ranch. Rudy almost flew in front of her yester
day, and it was all I could do to keep her from seeing him.” He shook his head at the memory.

  Mom stirred faster. “You realize that Rudy could be headed to the North Pole after this?”

  He jerked his head up to stare at her. “No.” The word came out like a weak westerly wind.

  “Yes.” She banged the wooden spoon on the side of the pan and set it on the spoon rest. “He’s only almost two, and he’s our best prospect.”

  “Stella might be able to handle Flash.” The almost black reindeer was named after the superhero that moved faster than light.

  Mom scoffed. “She’d think she could handle him.”

  He folded his arms and leaned a hip against the counter. “You never liked Stella, did you?”

  Mom’s mouth fell open, and then she snapped it shut. “I would never say such a thing.”

  “You don’t have to say it.” He was baiting her, but he’d always wondered about Mom’s complicated relationship with the Kringle girl. It was like she didn’t want to let herself like Stella too much—just enough to stay on the Good List. After that, it was a battle to get along with her.

  Mom snatched up the wooden spoon and shook it at him. “She didn’t know what a good thing she had when she had you.”

  Ah, so that was it. “Mom—you and I both know Stella and I would have killed each other. Our personalities were not a good fit.” He’d crushed hard on the magical Christmas girl for a couple of summers before working up his courage to kiss her. They’d had a great couple of weeks—until reality set in. Stella was a firecracker, and he was a … well, he was steady and solid and not into explosions of any kind.

  “Maybe, but you struggled when she left that fall. I didn’t like seeing you so unsure of yourself.”

  “I was unsure because I thought I’d had it all figured out.” He’d daydreamed about getting to live in the ice castle he’d only ever heard about. Not to mention the elves he knew by name but had never seen. “I missed out on becoming a Kringle more than I missed Stella.” He stared off. “I really thought I’d get to see the North Pole for myself one day.”

  Mom patted his cheek, bringing his gaze back to their well-worn and much-loved kitchen.