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

by Lucy McConnell

  He sat down at the table. “But we were talking about reindeer …”

  Her eyes softened. “Rudy’s the best shot we have. I don’t—” Her voice caught, and she had to clear her throat. “I don’t know what will happen to your father if we don’t get any more fliers.”

  “You’re worried about Dad? Mom, come on. There’s a whole world of children out there writing letters to Santa as we speak—and you’re worried about what this would do to Dad?” He swept his arm out to the side and then back again.

  Mom went back to stirring her gravy. “Of course I’m worried about Abner. One day, when you fall in love, you’ll be more worried about your wife than your reindeer—that’s how you know she’s the mother of my grandchildren.” She winked at him.

  He pushed off the counter with his hip. “I know where this conversation is headed, and I want nothing to do with it. Love you, though.”

  “Caleb, wait.” Mom wiped her hands on her candy cane apron before ushering him back to the table.

  “What?”

  She twisted her apron in front of her. “I know you like Faith, but I want to caution you against getting too close to her. If she doesn’t believe in Christmas, then she’s not long for the ranch. I don’t want you to lose your heart.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He made to stand, but she held him in place with a heavy hand on his shoulder.

  “You’ll be a gentleman while you’re there?”

  He would have scoffed and rolled his eyes, but his mom’s caution came from a place of love. “Always.”

  “Good. Good.” She stepped back and smoothed the apron. “She needs to keep her feelings for Christmas separate from her feelings for you.”

  Caleb blinked. “What do you mean by that?”

  Mom frowned. “Doc opened up to me and Abner one night during a difficult delivery. Faith tied Christmas to her dad and never forgave either of them for letting her down.”

  Caleb rubbed his jaw. That was interesting. Doc was working on his relationship with Faith; maybe Caleb should work on her relationship with Christmas. If she could just believe, then he could fall in love with her.

  It wouldn’t be all that hard, really, to give his heart free rein and watch it soar.

  But there wasn’t a thing he could do about it if she closed herself off to the magic. He stood and set his hat on his head. There had to be a way to bring holiday cheer to a Scrooge, and he was going to find it. “Thanks for the talk, Mom.”

  “Anytime.” She waved as he pushed out the door, greeted by a frosty wind.

  “Wahoo!” Forest yelled as the parade sleigh blurred past the house.

  Dad trailed behind in the side-by-side. “Slow down! You’re going too fast for the bells.”

  Caleb tipped his head to listen, and indeed, the sleigh bells weren’t jingling. He shook his head. This was his crazy, Christmas-centered life. No wonder his mom was worried. It would take a special woman to put up with the Nichollas men. Heck, he’d settle for someone who could put up with him. Shoving his hat lower against the wind, he trudged out to the barn to get Sparkle for her nightly workout.

  Chapter 14

  Caleb

  Caleb looked over Rudy’s prone form, secured to the table with leather restraints. His chest went up and down, and Caleb’s did the same, as if willing the reindeer to keep breathing. Seeing Rudy this helpless was difficult. With any surgery, there were risks, and Faith had outlined them all for Caleb in excruciating detail as he’d signed release forms.

  Faith looked through a set of magnifying glasses and she maneuvered instruments with skill. A line of concentration graced her forehead, making her look older than she was but also giving her an air of wisdom. He wondered if she hated that line or if she even knew it existed.

  She set down the glasses and began wrapping Rudy’s eyes and face with cotton pads and gauze. It was hard work—the reindeer wasn’t light—and a line of perspiration appeared at her temple.

  Caleb longed to wipe it away for her, but she’d been skittish all afternoon, keeping distance between the two of them. He didn’t want to get in her way or make her more nervous about the surgery, so he’d stepped back and hadn’t flirted with her. Hopefully, once the surgery was over, she’d calm down a little and they’d be able to enjoy each other’s company. If not, it was going to be a long 48 hours.

  “There,” Faith whispered. They’d both taken to talking softly as Rudy fell asleep. Faith pushed aside the tray of supplies and changed the drip on Rudy’s IV. “He should wake up soon. Maybe you should be up here so he can smell you and doesn’t panic.”

  Caleb rounded the table, bringing him next to Faith. She smelled of cinnamon, and home, again. He mentally shook himself. Keep it together.

  “Talk to him,” Faith encouraged. “He likes you.” She smiled under her mask, and her eyes crinkled.

  He leaned his forearms on the operating table and spoke to Rudy. “Hey, buddy. You in there? Surgery went well—” He glanced up at Faith for confirmation. She met his eyes, and his whole body zinged.

  “I’ll tell you more when he’s all settled.” She jerked her head to the large kennel he’d brought. Inside was fresh hay and a plaid blanket Mom insisted Rudy would want to sleep on. The whole family waited on pins and needles to hear how surgery went. It was as tense around the place as foaling season.

  “Rudy?” he whispered. “Come on, dude. Can you twitch a leg or something?” With the animal’s eyes covered, there was no way to know if he was waking up. “Rudy.”

  Rudy’s red nose twitched, and he let out a sad groan sounding like a drunk who was dealing with a New Year’s hangover.

  Faith was at Caleb’s elbow before he could call for her. She ran her hand over Rudy’s head and then took his temperature. “His vitals are good. He probably wants to be more comfortable. It’s a reindeer’s nature to try and stand. Do you think you can carry him to the kennel?”

  Caleb glanced down at his arm and flexed. Faith rolled her eyes and muttered under her mask. He grinned, thankful she was more open to teasing now.

  They began unlatching the straps. Faith looked at him out of the corner of her eye, and Caleb nudged her with his elbow. Her eyes crinkled again, and he reached over to brush a stray piece of hair off her forehead. She’d pulled it all back into a bun at the base of her neck, but some of it rebelled.

  She turned toward him, her hands stilling and her intensity increasing. He felt it, felt the moment that she’d locked on him, and he wanted to hold on to that moment forever. Being the only thing in her whole world was an amazing feeling. His mouth went dry and his hands moistened while his heart triple-stepped. The only other time he’d ever felt like this was when he was flying a sleigh.

  Something brown moved in his periphery, and his brain clicked on. Rudy was floating—flying?—above the table. Caleb grabbed Faith’s upper arms and turned her back to the reindeer. She gasped, splaying her hands on his chest.

  He gulped. He couldn’t breathe with Faith pressed against his chest—even if it was his arms holding her there. Looking at Rudy was out of the question if he wanted to keep Faith from seeing the reindeer hovering over the table like a magician’s assistant—without the white sheet that hid the wires.

  “Caleb?” she asked.

  “How do women do that?” he marveled.

  “Do what?”

  “Ask a thousand questions with one word.”

  Rudy rolled over to his other side. Nutcrackers! Caleb pressed his forehead against Faith’s. He wanted to be in this moment. He wanted to lose himself in a kiss with this beautiful woman. But the darn reindeer was floating off the table. Of all the rotten luck.

  Faith giggled, oblivious to what was happening right behind her. “It’s a gift.”

  “Yes, it is.” He closed his eyes. “Faith—do you trust me?”

  “Wh-what? I mean, why would you ask that?”

  He forced himself to look into her eyes, to see the fear and the worry his question brought to the surface,
because seeing that was answer enough. She didn’t trust him. Not yet, anyway. Using one arm, he pulled her body closer to his even as he walked her backward toward the table. Stretching the other arm out, he pushed Rudy down. The stubborn thing didn’t want to settle onto the hard table again.

  Without trust, there was no point in kissing Faith—no matter how much he wanted to. Caleb made a quick decision and threw Faith to the side, grabbing Rudy.

  Faith stumbled into the counter. Her hip made contact and she bounced off. “Ouch!”

  Caleb half-steered, half-carried Rudy to the crate.

  “Oh my gosh! He almost fell off the table.” Faith rushed to his side, checking over Rudy as if he had actually fallen. “I’m so sorry. I’m not usually distracted in the OR.”

  Caleb chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve been a distraction in the OR before.”

  Her cheeks dusted a light shade of pink that caused him to stare. She ducked her head. “Um, you can put him in now.”

  Caleb jolted as if she’d hit him with the hot shot. He’d forgotten the reindeer in his arms. Thank goodness Rudy was still out of it a little; he was floating enough to make moving him look easy. With as much care as he could manage with the awkward creature, he settled him onto the hay. “You stay down, now, you hear?” he whispered to Rudy.

  Rudy flicked his ear in response, and Caleb took that as a sign that he was aware enough to be on good behavior. He scooted backward out of the kennel and stood up tall, only to find Faith staring at him, her head cocked.

  She blinked several times and flipped around. The sound of her plastic gloves coming off snapped. “I need to clean up in here. You should sit by him in case he gets … scared.”

  “You sound like that’s not normal.”

  “Nothing about you all is normal.” She sighed, waving her hand in his general direction.

  He huffed and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “What exactly are you saying, ma’am?” he drawled.

  She snickered. “Fine. I don’t normally allow pet owners in recovery. It’s hard for them to see their animals come out of anesthesia, and sometimes there are complications.”

  “So you’re saying I’m an exception to the rule.”

  “Yes.”

  “You think I’m exceptional.”

  “That’s not the same thing!” She protested, but her eyes sparkled.

  Caleb did a mental fist pump. “You seem a lot less stressed now.” He reached through the cage and rested his hand on Rudy’s back. Rudy’s breathing was deep and regular—reassuring.

  Faith lifted one eyebrow at him. “The phacoemulsification and aspiration procedure went well. I was able to remove the cataracts in both eyes.”

  Caleb’s head came around to stare at Rudy. “So he might be able to see?”

  She pulled off her mask, revealing a brilliant smile. “He’ll see.”

  Caleb’s heart leapt. They may have a reindeer to send Santa after all. Not to mention this sweet, good-natured animal would finally be able to fly in the open. He surged toward Faith and lifted her up. “You beautiful veterinarian, you.” He hugged her close and kissed her hair, which smelled like lavender. Then, just because he had the excuse, he kissed her head once again.

  His mom’s words about being a gentleman rang through his head, and he forced himself to set Faith back on her feet. Stepping back, he cleared his throat. “Sorry. I got a little carried away there.”

  She smirked. “I think I was the one being carried.”

  He laughed, enjoying her sassiness and grateful that things weren’t awkward. “Hey, you can carry me any time you want.”

  “Pft.” She flapped both hands. “Like I could get you off the ground. Your ego is way too heavy.”

  He laughed hard enough that he had to wipe at his eyes. “You may not be able to lift me, but you certainly keep me on my toes.”

  She grinned, and his world stopped spinning. Man, not falling in love with Faith was getting harder and harder. She’d saved his reindeer. There wasn’t anything more a woman could do to earn his affection.

  Chapter 15

  Faith

  Faith pulled her hair out of the tight bun and massaged her scalp. “Come on through. I’m sure you know the way.” She walked through the hallway that attached the clinic to the house. It was enclosed, though not heated, and she shivered in her scrubs.

  Caleb was behind her, his overnight bag slung casually over his shoulder. She’d tried not to panic when she saw it. Having him spend the night felt like a great big deal. When he walked into a room, it was like he took over, and she had a hard time focusing on something besides him. Having him in her house—gulp—was like opening the door and inviting an avalanche inside.

  Her plan was to soldier through and pretend he wasn’t there. She had things to get done, dinner to make and such. Besides, he was here to watch over Rudy; it wasn’t like he was going to follow her around all night.

  They walked through the door that let them into the living room.

  “I can’t stay here,” Caleb announced.

  She spun on him, wondering if he felt the same electrical current she’d been fighting. Except for when she’d been doing Rudy’s surgery, the draw was always there. Even during the surgery, she couldn’t block Caleb out completely, but she had put her attraction to him on a back shelf, where it politely waited for her to save the reindeer’s sight before it jumped up and refused to go back.

  “What do you mean?” Admitting her feelings never came easy. However, emotions were building up inside of her, and if he said something first, she’d burst like a dam.

  “You don’t have a Christmas tree.”

  Her brain took a minute to turn around what he’d said, line it up against what she’d expected, and make sense of it. “So?” was her intelligent response. But really, she’d been thinking about having time and space with just Caleb—no reindeer, no family—and he was worried she didn’t have a tree?

  He crossed to the fireplace, where the logs she’d thrown on that morning to take the chill out of the air had died down to red, winking embers. “Not even a stocking hung by the chimney with care.” He pulled out his phone. “We have to fix this.”

  A sense that the carefully crafted control she’d been hanging onto was slipping away made her panic. “What are you doing?”

  “Calling in reinforcements.” He winked. “Mom? We need a jolly elf at the Doc’s place—stat.”

  Faith’s mouth fell open, and she snapped it shut. “We don’t need any such thing. I don’t do Christmas trees or stockings.”

  “Why not?” He turned back to his phone. “Sounds great. See you soon. Bye.”

  She scowled. “That’s none of your business.”

  His face softened, and he stepped closer. “I’d sure like to know, though.”

  She sighed with all the longsuffering sound she could manage. This man tested her in ways she didn’t anticipate. “Because I don’t believe in Santa. So what’s the point?”

  “A tree doesn’t represent Santa.”

  She balked—expecting a different answer. “Yes, it does. That’s where he leaves gifts.”

  Caleb shook his head. “The tree represents eternal life with God. The gifts represent Christ and His gift to us.” He stepped closer. “Christmas isn’t about Santa.”

  She folded her arms. “Says the man who’s playing Santa in the parade.”

  He rubbed his lips together, drawing her attention to them. Shoot. Was she looking at his mouth? She yanked her eyes over to the plaid couch with the red blanket thrown over the corner.

  “Let’s at least put up some decorations. The place could use a little cheer.”

  Faith scowled at the drab tan carpet and the bare walls. Dad wasn’t much of an interior decorator—being a bachelor, he was missing the kinds of things that softened a home. The sparsity worked for her, though, in that it allowed her to think of this place as temporary. She shook her head. “No decorations.” Caleb opened his mouth to argue, b
ut she cut him off. “My house, my rules.”

  His eyes danced. “But it’s not really your house, is it?” He walked around her to the hallway, where he dropped his bag inside the door to the guest bedroom. Faith was in her old room, which Dad had updated as she grew—not that she’d ever spent a night here. Still, she’d been touched to find the space had a coat of lavender paint on the walls and the headboard and dresser had been painted off-white. Those had been her favorite colors when she’d graduated high school. His efforts were a testament to his hope that she’d come work with him one day, and they softened her heart toward her Dad and added proof to his statement that he’d always wanted her.

  Caleb clapped his hands together and then rubbed them brusquely. “If I were Doc, where would I store Christmas decorations?” He glanced above her head and broke into a smile. “Aha!”

  Faith glanced up to see the attic pull dangling above her. “Oh no. We are not going up there. I’ve heard feet scampering across the ceiling at night, and I’m not about to get bit by something.” She shuddered.

  Caleb stepped forward. “Come on. Doc will be home for Christmas—wouldn’t it be great to have some decorations up for him?”

  She gritted her teeth. “That’s not fair. You can’t use my dad to guilt me into liking Christmas.”

  “Who said anything about guilt?” He took the last step into her personal space and reached up, draping his fingers over the pull and leaning down so their faces were kissably close.

  Faith’s heart pounded so loud she was sure it would wake up Rudy in the clinic. Breathing was difficult, making her gasp. What were they talking about? Christmas and Jesus and trees?

  Oh yeah. Decorating. Which she didn’t want to do. Funny how she had to remind herself of that when staring into Caleb’s dark blue eyes. If she wasn’t careful, he’d talk her into all sorts of things. “Are you always this pushy about decorating?”

  “Are you always this Scrooge-y about not decorating?” He searched her face—looking for what, she wasn’t sure.