“Appreciate it.” Caleb nodded at his twin.
Jack pointed at him. “Remember this the next time I ask you cover my turn cleaning stalls.”
“There’s always a price.” Caleb turned away from his brother, took up Faith’s hand, and threaded his fingers with hers. “How was the rest of your day?”
Faith stared at their hands, so perfect together. “Busy. Sounds like training is going well.”
“Better than I could have hoped.” He kissed her knuckle.
“Dinner’s on!” Abner called over the conversations in the room.
Caleb stood, not letting go of her hand. “Come on, I saved you a seat.”
She laughed, because he’d just gotten there and didn’t have time to save anything and because she felt accepted and cared for—not only by Caleb but by his brothers too.
Dinner was wonderful. Conversation flowed easily as Dad joked about his time in the rehab center, his recovery, and a particular nurse he was sure had a crush on him because she snuck him extra strawberry Jell-O—his favorite.
Caleb gave a generic update on Rudy’s training. The whole room listened in on that with bated breath. Faith was heartened to see the care they took for their animals, knowing them all by name and asking questions that proved they were invested in Rudy’s recovery.
Toward the end of the meal, Abner raised his glass. “I’d like to propose a toast.”
Faith reached for her cup. It was as cold against her palm as the room was nice and toasty.
“To Faith.” Abner lifted his glass higher.
Faith startled. Caleb squeezed her knee under the table.
“For giving sight to the blind this Christmas season. We’re all grateful you came to the ranch when you did. To Faith!”
“To Faith!” echoed everyone at the table.
Faith’s eyes stung as she took in the faces around the table. Her heart swelled inside her chest, and she had to swallow back the emotion building up. She’d never felt so accepted and loved as she did in that moment. Part of it was because she’d contributed to the family—that felt really good. But she would have done the surgery for Rudy even if the Nichollas family hadn’t invited her to dinner tonight. The other part was because she could tell they liked her—truly liked her for just being her. From playing reindeer poker to teasing her about sneaking off to the barn with Caleb after dinner, the family had opened their arms and welcomed her without holding back.
She’d never had that before. And she wanted it badly.
She looked at Caleb. “Do you know how lucky you are?”
He brushed his finger across her jaw. “I think I do.”
Though she had been talking about his family, he was talking about her. His tenderness undid her, and she was grateful that she was sitting down or else she’d have swooned into his arms.
How was she ever going to leave this all behind?
Chapter 29
Caleb
The morning after Faith and Doc came to dinner, Caleb whistled on his way into the house after doing morning chores. He’d fed the herd in the field just as the sun was coming up, and the rosy color in the sky reminded him of the way Faith had blushed last night. He couldn’t get enough of her reserved pleasure that his family so openly accepted her.
It was almost like her soul craved it, and he couldn’t help but believe that she’d been placed in his life for a reason. Perhaps God wanted her to see what a family could be like so she could look forward to creating her own one day.
But it could just as well be that God wanted Faith in Caleb’s life, with his family, and she needed to know that she would be unconditionally loved here. He hoped the second reason was the case, but he knew enough to know that his plans and God’s plans didn’t always line up.
That hadn’t stopped him from spending a lot of time on his knees last night praying.
“It’s three days until Christmas—there’s no way you’ll make it back!” Dad’s yelling came through the barn walls and hit Caleb in the chest. It wasn’t often that Dad raised his voice—someone must have pushed him too far. He had a pretty good guess as to who it was.
Charging ahead, his whistling dropped, Caleb swung open the barn door to find Dad and Forest squared off. Sparkle and Galen looking over their stall doors to see what the commotion was about—those two loved a bit of gossip. Pax was leaning against Dunder, sneaking him reindeer treats as he watched the two males battle it out.
Forest planted his feet. “I’ll fly back, Dad.” His words came out as if Dad were an idiot for not thinking of that option. He threw his hand at Dunder. “Stella and Kris rode Dunder here from Alaska when he was sick. I can handle Snowflake.”
Ah—so that was what this was about. Caleb shut the door behind him and joined the fray.
“If you find her, and that’s a great big if, I shouldn’t have let her go.” Dad stomped back and forth like a bull in the pasture.
Caleb held up both hands. “Whoa! Dad. We couldn’t leave Stella stranded. She’s over toys!” Protecting Santa and all that he stood for was woven into Dad’s soul as much as red thread was in his flannel shirt. For him to make a statement like that meant he was thrown off his game in a major way.
Forest poked Caleb’s chest. “You agree with me. You’re the one who had to do the news interview, and we’ve had calls from all the major networks wanting quotes since then. Snowflake is drawing more and more attention. There’s people camping in the snow trying to get a glimpse of her. Someone’s going to get frostbite—or worse. We need to get her back home ASAP.”
“And I told you all we’d wait until after Christmas—your mom deserves to have her kids here to celebrate the birth of Christ.”
Caleb watched his father pace back and forth. Suddenly, he understood something that he hadn’t before. It wasn’t that Dad didn’t want to get Snowflake; it was that doing so could hurt the woman he loved. As much as he was programmed to take care of the reindeer, Mom came first in his heart—and it was tearing him apart to have the two things he cared about in this world at odds.
Caleb got it, because he’d been dealing with it on a much smaller level with Faith. Smaller because they weren’t married or even committed past this Christmas. But big enough that the lie he’d told her about Rudy not flying in his cage that day rolled over him like a barrel of reindeer poop. He had a right to stay true to the reindeer—at least, that was what he told himself. If Faith was staying and they were moving to the next level, not so much. But for now, keeping the family secret was more important than his budding feelings for the veterinarian.
He put his hand on Forest’s shoulder. “I agree with you that we should find her as soon as possible. But I don’t agree that you should leave now. One for the family and family for the reindeer. Remember?”
Forest shoved his hand away. “We were children when they taught us that. We’re not kids anymore.”
“It’s no less true now. We look out for one another first, and as a family, we care for the reindeer. We gotta look out for Mom, bro.”
Forest growled. “Mom should understand.”
Caleb thought back to Mom watching Dad and worrying about what would happen to him if the reindeer stopped flying. “She does. But she’s right in that family comes first—especially at Christmas.”
Forest shook his head. “I’m going to the feed store. We’re low on grain.” He stomped out of the barn.
Caleb found Dad studying him. They locked eyes, and Caleb knew he’d crossed into a new level of manhood and Dad knew it too. There was a welcome-to-the-club gleam in Dad’s eye, accompanied by a pinch of worry.
Pax clicked his tongue at Dunder, drawing both their attention to him and the reindeer. He put Dunder in his stall and shut the gate.
Dad folded his arms. “Let me guess: you agree with Forest.”
Caleb huffed. “You’re not one to hold back in the face of conflict, are you, Dad?”
“What?” Dad demanded.
“We aren’t all here to
fight with you. Relax.” Caleb prayed Pax didn’t throw his glove down and challenge Dad to a verbal duel as well.
Pax didn’t jump into the fray. He thought about his answer, studying the beams in the rafters that the reindeer used as perches. “The longer Snowflake is out there, the higher the chance of her being caught or hurt or even injuring herself. But …” He scratched under his hat and then righted it. “She’s bringing hope to a lot of people who seem to be struggling this year. Have you noticed? Everyone is so short with each other.”
He gave Dad a pointed look. Dad had the humility to realize that he might have jumped on Forest a bit too quickly, and he ducked his head.
Pax went on. “I don’t want to see Snowflake in danger. Nor do I want to see Mom’s tears when one seat is empty at Christmas dinner. She has a tender heart and loves her family and Christmas, and putting the two together is her greatest joy—I don’t want to take that away from her.” He pushed off the stall door and left them thinking about his words.
Dad kicked the ground. “I don’t know if that boy should be a poet or …”
“A politician,” Caleb filled in for him.
Dad chuckled. “He can talk both sides of any situation.”
“It’s because he’s full of empathy,” Caleb agreed.
“And Forest has none.” Dad’s hand fisted.
“That’s not true—it’s just all directed to the reindeer. I don’t think he’s trying to hurt Mom’s feelings.” Caleb felt funny standing there talking about emotions and feelings, so he headed over to a bale of straw and moved it across the breezeway—just to do something manly.
Dad followed him and put his boot on the bale. “You were pretty cozy with Faith last night.”
Caleb brushed straw off his pants. “We’re enjoying one another’s company.”
“Anna invited them to Christmas dinner.”
Caleb wasn’t surprised. Doc was a part of dinner every year, and it made sense to invite his daughter along. “That was nice of her.”
“Yeah—so don’t screw this up.” Dad smacked him on the back.
“What do you mean?”
“If Faith takes over for Doc, either now or in the future—and you break her heart—it would be strained at best and horrible for the ranch at the worst.”
Caleb ran his hand down his face. “She’s going back to her practice after Christmas. That’s as far as we have planned out.”
“You saw Doc last night. He’s in no shape to work out here.” Dad dropped his chin to his chest. “Breaks my heart to see my friend like that.”
“I’ll bet it does.” Caleb glanced away to allow Dad a moment in his emotions. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with Faith, but if it ends, I’m hoping it will be on friendly terms.”
“I think you two ought to have a conversation about this.”
“Nope. That was part of the deal. We only have until Christmas.” Caleb looked around but couldn’t find another bale to move.
“Then make a new deal.” Dad nodded once as if the whole thing was decided, and then he headed out. “And put that bale back,” he called over his shoulder.
“Gladly,” Caleb mumbled. He needed to move about a hundred more to get the restless feeling out of his muscles. Setting the bale next to Dunder’s stall, he looked over and found the reindeer looking back at him. His eyes were clear and his ears up. He’d gained some weight in his belly and filled out. “How ’bout it? Do you want to fly some laps?”
Dunder tipped his antlers side to side, as if gauging his ability to handle exercise, and then finally nodded.
“Good, because it was you or Flash, and I didn’t feel like taking my life in my hands.”
Dunder chortled at that. He stood still while Caleb got the harness on, and they headed for the workout arena. A good run would help Caleb clear his head, though he doubted it would empty his heart. It was so full of Faith that it weighed him down at the same time it lifted him up. He didn’t want to feel so much for her, but it seemed that was inevitable, because she was just that wonderful.
Chapter 30
Faith
It had been a long day. Faith dragged herself inside the house and collapsed on the couch. The horse she’d been called to check out had an intestinal issue. In order to fix it, she’d had to give the animal meds to shrink its pancreas. Once they’d taken effect, she’d sedated the horse, hung him upside down from the farmer’s tractor, and then laid him down and rolled him. It was awful to do that to an animal, and if she didn’t know that it actually worked, then she’d never recommend it. The whole time, the owner was either in tears or cursing Faith’s name.
Faith’s stress level had been through the roof. The treatment was the animal’s only hope. Once the horse had woken up, she’d shaken herself out and then proceeded to fill the stall with stuff to shovel. This time, the owner had cried tears of joy and hugged Faith. Faith had hugged her right back because she’d been so grateful the horse was okay.
Now her arms ached and her back was stiff and all she wanted to do was fall into a bathtub and soak her muscles. Her phone rang, and she answered it, hoping it was Caleb. “Hello?”
“Hi, sweetie.”
Faith blinked in surprise. “Mom? How are you?” She hadn’t heard from her mom in months.
“I’m doing great. Just putting the guest list together for Christmas dinner and wondered if you’d be coming by this year.”
Faith hedged. She hadn’t been home for Christmas since her partner had gotten married, taking the extra shift so he could be with his wife. “I’m spending the holiday with Dad this year. He has some health issues, and I’m helping out with the clinic.” Faith rolled her eyes at her own vague answer. There were a hundred details she could have told her mom. Anything about Caleb would have been interesting. But somehow she knew better than to bring up Reindeer Ranch.
“Oh. That’s very charitable of you, Faith. The man hasn’t given you reason to take care of him, but there you are.”
The words were nice enough, but the tone was like claws down Faith’s back. Why did she feel like she was doing something wrong? “It’s not like that, Mom. Dad and I are working through some things.”
“Good luck with that. He’s as communicative as a washing machine.”
“Mom.” Faith pushed away from the back of the couch. Ever since she’d realized how much her mom’s view of Dad had colored her own, she’d wanted to say something to her mom. “I don’t believe I have to pick sides. I can love both you and Dad—my heart is that big. Please don’t feel threatened by this—he’s not going to take your place.” She wished she’d been able to say those words as a child, because so many of Mom’s insecurities could have been handled differently.
“I know you do, sweetie. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know. I just don’t want to see that man leave you high and dry again.”
Faith’s blood boiled. “He didn’t. You’re the one who left without a forwarding address.”
Her declaration was met with silence.
“Look, Mom. I don’t want to fight. It’s Christmas—”
“You’re even starting to sound like him.” Mom sniffed. “The next thing you know, you’ll tell me that you’re working that darn reindeer ranch.”
Truth. Faith breathed. Truth will provide closure. “I’ve been out there. Many times. It’s a beautiful place.”
“Don’t fall for it, Faith.” Mom’s words stabbed at her through the phone. “Don’t you think for a second that they would care for you more than they care for the reindeer. If you father wasn’t a vet—they would have kicked him off the land years ago.”
Faith remembered Abner’s look of true friendship, his extended hand and the caring in his manners. “I don’t believe you.” She cleared her throat, suddenly more strung out and tired than she had been after almost losing a patient. “Mom, I’m going to love Dad. He’s being honest with me, and we’re talking about hard things. But I’m not going to stop loving you. I hope you have a v
ery Merry Christmas.”
“You’ve always been a stubborn child.”
“Stubborn in the best ways—like you.” Faith grinned as she repeated what she always said to her mom when she’d complained of her strong will.
Mom chuckled. “Come visit soon.”
“I will.” They said goodbye. Even though the conversation ended civilly, Faith wasn’t settled. She hated to have to be so firm with her mom about this, but she couldn’t see another way. And telling the truth was freeing. Not that her mom admitted to leaving Dad that first Christmas, and she probably never would. She’d created an alternate reality where she was the hero, and she’d live there until she died.
Faith was only starting to realize the type of woman who’d raised her. But she was happy to find that those same traits weren’t inside of herself. Some of them she’d consciously avoided, like the big outbursts and drama. Others, like telling lies to people she loved, felt foreign—like trying to use her left hand to write.
Her phone rang again. This time she checked before answering. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hi. I was just wondering if you were coming over tonight?”
She glanced at the clock and silently cursed. She should have been to the rehab center a half hour ago. “Sorry. I had to go out to the Parkers’ ranch today. I have to change, and then I’ll be over.”
“Everything okay?”
She smiled. “Yeah. It worked out all right.”
“I’m looking forward to hearing the story.”
Her grin grew bigger. Sharing her days with Dad had become something of a routine that she liked a lot. He understood all the jargon and even questioned her diagnosis a time or two—which made her think through things better. She enjoyed their shop talk. “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
A shower and change of clothes and she was on the road into town. At her practice, she always wore scrubs and tennis shoes, but out here, she was in jeans and flannel. It felt good, like she was more herself on the outside.
One Tough Christmas Cookie (The Reindeer Wrangler Ranch Christmas Romance Book 1) Page 20
