Finding Her Christmas Family

by Ruth Logan Herne

  For him the seventy-two hours of incessant lowing cattle was the challenge, but in two days the big calves would go one way, the cows would go another, and all would be well. And he respected the way his father kept the calves with their mothers for an extended period of time. His father liked the natural order of things, and never rushed anything.

  Kyle was different.

  He seemed to seek change for the sake of change. He wanted everything easier. Shorter. Faster. But some things couldn’t be rushed, and raising cattle was one of those things.

  Kyle had loaded up the forks on the old John Deere. He was moving toward the cows’ side of the grazing area with a round bale of hay. That left Renzo to supplement the restless nine-month-olds on the lower side of the fencing. He’d attend to the creep feed, the soy supplement that raised the protein levels of their daily rations. In ranch-speak, he got the tougher job because he was Kyle’s underling on the ranch and his brother enjoyed that.

  He got the job done without losing a calf through the double-gated system on the way in. Leaving the grazing area was easier. The calves’ interest in the fresh meal took precedence, and he brought the smaller tractor around to the graveled barnyard.

  Kyle was already in the barn. A watering system had started leaking the week before, and they hadn’t gotten around to fixing it. Kyle thrust his chin toward the rusted coupler. “I figured we’d get that done next.”

  Renzo pointed to the well-lit house two hundred feet away. “Have at it. I’ve got three kids that need watching.”

  “But their aunt is there.”

  Renzo did a slow count to five in his head, because there was no way he’d make it to ten. “A woman they met last night while Dad was on the floor, fighting for his life. And I’m supposed to stay out here and help you while they worry about Dad?” He was four inches taller than Kyle, and he locked eyes with his shorter brother. “Not gonna happen. The girls need me. You don’t.”

  “Didn’t expect you’d be much help out here, anyway. If you’d wanted to be, you’d have stayed here and built the ranch up like we promised Dad a long time ago.”

  Leave it to Kyle to go for the jugular with a conversation they’d had many times. “We were kids, Kyle. Ranch kids. And then we grew up. It’s all right that I took a different road. Mom and Dad understood it. I wish you did.”

  Kyle muttered something under his breath, but strode away as if Renzo wasn’t worth the time, but that had been his brother’s attitude for a while. Was he unhappy on the ranch? Or unhappy everywhere? Their father had been their buffer, and because he was so good on the ranch, Kyle never had to stretch. Now he had to, and he wasn’t happy with that.

  The sun began breaking over the arch of the trees. Its warmth stirred the fog, then it lifted, swept into the atmosphere by the rising temperature. The ranch splayed out before him. His grandfather had started Calloway Ranch nearly seventy years ago. It had been a side job for a man who worked construction in the rapidly growing urban area of Quincy, Washington. His father and grandfather had built the ranch into a self-supporting business. A rural lifestyle that fit their proximity to Golden Grove and the nearby city.

  Renzo loved the life, but he’d never tipped his hat toward ranching. He was a lawman, through and through. His blood ran lawman blue, and he was all right with that. So was his father.

  Not Kyle, but that was his problem. Only now it was Renzo’s problem, too. One man could handle this operation. Sixty cows on a regular cycle weren’t that time-consuming, especially at this time of year. Would Kyle rise to the task? Could he?

  Renzo wasn’t sure, and if he wanted his father to have a business to come home to, he’d have to help, but it would be on his terms.

  It won’t, his conscience scolded lightly, because you know Kyle’s focus is split somehow and that will only cause your father more worry. When he’s healthy enough to worry, that is.

  Whatever was going on with Kyle wouldn’t be solved quickly, but Renzo’s first concern had to be the girls. He shed his coveralls in the back entry, started a load of laundry to keep the barn smell out of the house and headed inside.

  The scent of deliciousness swamped him.

  Lindsay was working at the stove in the now-clean kitchen. Sarah had the girls around the big table. Heads down, they were busy with the project at hand. Glue sticks, washable markers, glitter pens and construction paper covered the old oak boards.

  Intent on their work, the girls didn’t notice him come in.

  Sarah did. She looked up. Their eyes met, and when they did, his angst about Kyle was quickly forgotten.

  Winsome eyes. Beautiful. Filled with compassion and strength. He was drawn to both, a draw he’d firmly resist because things were already convoluted enough.

  Kyle was too self-interested to understand the change that Sarah brought into their lives. Or maybe, being slightly removed, it didn’t worry him the way it bothered Renzo. Kyle loved the girls in his own way, but he’d never taken much part in raising them. He and Valerie seemed quite content to be the fond aunt and uncle, cheering from a distance.

  Renzo had been hands-on from the beginning. From the time Naomi came home from the hospital. Then Chloe. And finally, Kristi, with her long list of needs. He and his mother had worked out a schedule. He’d rearranged his work hours. He’d stood tall and strong when others were too busy, and they’d successfully nurtured three preemies into the healthy, happy girls at the table.

  Sarah was about to change everything, and he was powerless to stop it, but even if he could, would he? Should he?

  “Uncle Renzo, look!” Naomi spotted him and raised a piece of decorated construction paper. “We’re making cards for Papa! So he knows we love him so much!” Joy filled her face.

  “See mine?” Chloe’s was more sedate, the product of her more analytical mind.

  “And mine is beautiful, too.” Kristi had gone all in with glitter and sequins. She pointed to the freshly glued sparkly circles. “I wanted him to be able to feel the pretty, even if his eyes are closed.”

  Kristi had been receiving occupational therapy for the past year, and tactile reactions had been polishing her fine motor skills. She still struggled some, but she’d come a long way.

  “I love it,” he told her. “What a great idea.” Then he looked at Sarah. “This is wonderful,” he added. “Thank you for thinking of it. It will give Mom and Dad comfort.”

  His phone rang just then. “It’s Mom,” he said out loud, then moved to the big living room beyond them. “Hey, how are we doing?”

  “They’re flying Dad to Seattle right now,” she told him. “I’m going by car.”

  “Not alone, you’re not,” he replied swiftly. “One of us needs to be with you.”

  “Renzo, you know your father,” she replied. She maintained an amazing level of calm, but then she always did. “He’d be more upset that the cattle weren’t cared for, or that the girls were left on their own. You stay there. Kyle can run the ranch, and you mind the girls. That way Dad doesn’t worry and neither do I.”

  “But—”

  “Aunt Shelly is driving,” she continued.

  Aunt Shelly was his mother’s younger sister. She’d lost her husband a year ago, and she and his mother were close.

  “She’ll stay with me, and it’s as good for her as it is for me.”

  It was a solid plan. He knew that, but it was hard to stand down from his role of protector. And yet he had a vital role right here, so he kept his comment light. “I don’t know if Seattle can handle both Altobelli sisters.”

  “We’ll find out.” She paused and sighed. “Keep praying, Renzo. Don’t stop. Okay?”

  He heard the fear in her voice, but she was a firm believer in God’s will, a concept Renzo questioned more often than he should. “I won’t. But God and I will have some firm words if this doesn’t go our way.”

  �
��And the sweet Lord will love you regardless,” she answered softly. “Always has. Always will. Shelly is here. Gotta go.”

  “Drive carefully and keep me in the loop, okay?”

  “Every step,” she promised. “You and Kyle both. Kiss the girls for me, all right?”

  “I will.”

  He disconnected the call and came back to the big dining table. “Mama Gina sends her love and kisses and says they’re moving Papa to a bigger hospital. Probably to make room for all of these pretty pictures,” he told them, because he didn’t want to scare them with the real reasons.

  “Then we’ll make a lot,” declared Chloe.

  “We’ve got lots of paper,” noted Sarah. She stood up and moved to the kitchen side of the big room. “And coffee,” she said softly. “I expect you could use a cup. What’s the update?” She kept her voice low so the girls couldn’t hear.

  “They’re using an air ambulance to take him to Seattle. It’s not good,” he added softly. “But you know that.”

  She nodded. “I know. Do you think your mom should be alone?” she asked, and he shook his head.

  “As always, Mom’s putting Dad’s needs first. She knows how worried he’d be about the girls and the ranch if Kyle and I were in Seattle with them. My aunt Shelly is there,” he explained. “She’s going to drive to Seattle with Mom. They’re not just sisters. They’re like best friends.”

  “A special bond, for sure.”

  The moment she said it, he realized how his words might sting. She’d never had the chance to be besties with her sister, or even see her. “It is. Sarah—”

  “Coffee. Kids. Glitter.” She pushed a mug into his hands. “That’s where my focus is right now. And on whatever my mother managed to put into that oven,” she added.

  “Apple crisp,” said Lindsay. “The back fridge was full of apples, so it made sense.”

  “Only to those who can find their way around a kitchen,” said Sarah. “I must have stepped out of line when they were handing out that particular talent.”

  “Or because you were graced with so many other gifts,” Lindsay told her. “One can only excel at so many things.”

  “I cook,” said Renzo, then wondered why he felt the need to say it.

  Lindsay shot him a questioning look.

  He sipped his coffee and shrugged. “I’ve lived on my own for fifteen years and a man’s got to eat. Of course, once the girls were born I spent a lot more time over here. It was an all-hands-on-deck situation.”

  “You guys have done your job well,” Sarah replied.

  Their job.

  He knew exactly what she meant. The Calloways had been the temporary caretakers. Now she would step in. She said it nicely, but that didn’t change her ultimate goal.

  He looked at her. Then the girls. Then he squared his shoulders. “One thing you should know about me, ladies.” He set the mug down. “When I tackle a job, I don’t give up. And I never leave a job half-done.”

  He walked away and headed upstairs to wash up and grab some clean clothes.

  His job was to watch over the girls and this home, to keep it all intact for his parents’ return, and he had every intention of doing so, despite Sarah Brown.

  Chapter Five

  “You’re drawing a hard line in the sand, Sarah.” Her mother poured a fresh cup of coffee, and faced her daughter an hour later. The girls had piled into Renzo’s SUV and gone to the grocery store with him.

  Sarah was putting away the rest of the art supplies. She tucked things back where she’d found them, in labeled organizer drawers in a nearby closet, all low enough for the girls to reach easily. “There’s no other choice, Mom.”

  “Oh, honey, there are always other choices. I’m not criticizing,” she continued when Sarah frowned. “But imagine how hard it must have been for Jenn to be separated from you when you two were split up. She was only two years old when that happened. These girls are almost four. Their cognitive development is much further along and they love this family. I’m not asking you to change your objective.” She crossed the narrow space and put her hands on Sarah’s shoulders. “Just to think about it, step by step. The wrong move now could have traumatic results later on. That’s not just my maternal side talking. The pediatric doctor in me urges the same caution.”

  Her mother had chosen a career in pediatric medicine long before they’d adopted Sarah. Her love for children seemed innate. How difficult it must have been to be unable to have her own children. “You’ve always taught me that kids are more resilient than grown-ups give them credit for.”

  “And I believe that’s true,” Lindsay replied. “But life’s traumas can hit hard and linger for a long time. Being suddenly taken from the home they love and the people who raised them could be really tough on the girls. You don’t want resentment and anger to ruin your relationship with them so early on.”

  Right now Sarah just wanted what had been denied her for over three decades. Her family. Her sister. A piece of her history that had been swept out from under her. “Nobody worried about that for me,” she told Lindsay, and she gripped her mug extra-tight because it made her hands stop shaking. “Nobody thought of that when they sent my sister to Wenatchee and me to Seattle.”

  “And I can’t even begin to tell you how angry that makes me,” whispered Lindsay. She drew Sarah into a hug. “Your dad and I would have taken Jenn, too. We would have loved that, so being denied the opportunity to keep you two together infuriates me.”

  “I keep asking myself why,” said Sarah. “Why would they think separating us was okay, even if there was a high demand for babies. And then I wonder if she ever cried for me. If she ever fell asleep wondering where her baby sister was. Because she was old enough to remember me, to miss me.”

  “Oh, honey.” Her mother held her in her arms for long moments until Sarah pulled free. “Maybe it’s a blessing that we don’t remember much of those early years. But what I do know as a pediatrician is that sudden loss or change does have an effect on kids’ psyches and even sometimes on their physical health. I don’t want you to give up your goal,” she pressed. “But I’m advising you to take time. Go slow.”

  “And my attorney just texted me that this is the best time to go ahead and file a custody suit because Mr. Calloway’s poor health provides a window of opportunity. She cited Washington’s law that gives relatives of children first priority in adoption and custody cases.”

  “Legally you’re no relation to them,” her mother reminded her.

  “My DNA says otherwise,” argued Sarah. “And I’ve gathered theirs to be tested,” she admitted. “When they were brushing their teeth this morning.”

  “As if you need proof,” Lindsay replied, but then she sighed. “This isn’t right, Sarah. It’s not wrong, but it’s not right, either. You need a peaceful agreement with the Calloways. Maybe share custody.”

  “And split time with them? I’ve considered that,” Sarah stated. “I don’t want to mess these children up in any way, but the thought of shared custody has drawbacks, too.”

  “Sometimes it’s the best choice,” her mother told her. “Families compromise all the time.”

  Was such a thing possible?

  It made sense. Even through her haze of anger, she had to put the girls’ needs first, but could she share their future after being denied so much of her past? “I don’t know if I’m that rational about the subject,” she admitted.

  “Then you need to get more rational,” Lindsay advised. “Pray about it. Think it through. This is as important as any life-or-death surgery you’ve ever performed, Sarah. Because severing family ties isn’t something that can easily be resutured. And that’s all I’m saying.”

  “I hear you, Mom.” Sarah set down her mug as she heard Renzo’s SUV turn into the long driveway. “I’m just not sure I’m strong enough to do it.”

  “Th
en pray for strength.” Lindsay took her hands. “The strength that’s gotten you this far in your career is enough to guide you over this hurdle. Why hurt others when we don’t have to, darling?”

  Her mother was right, but over Lindsay’s shoulder was that framed photo of Jenn, gone before she’d had a chance to know her. See her. Even just to hear her voice.

  As the girls scrambled into the house, the look of them, so much like her and her lost sister, tipped the scales again.

  She’d been foiled once, as an infant.

  No one was going to foil her again.

  * * *

  Renzo never had to pretend to be grateful before. He’d had some serious ups and downs, and he’d faced some brutal situations on the job. Eighteen years of being a professional lawman ensured that, but he’d always been able to separate the grace of family from the bad side of society. He’d helped countless people over the years, before and after he became a detective, and those good outcomes offset the rougher moments of his profession.

  But right now his father was fighting for his life, his mother was gone, Kyle was acting like a self-absorbed moron and the girls were about to be swept away by a stranger and there was nothing he could do about any of it. The whole thing was making him crazy.

  So why was he leading three preschoolers through a busy holiday-themed grocery store with all this rolling through his brain? Taking a tribe of small children anywhere was a lot like herding cats. He realized that as Tug Moyer called him. He pulled out the phone and answered quickly while the girls were captivated by a holiday-themed baking display. Tug wasn’t only his best friend, he was the newly elected county sheriff and Renzo’s former partner. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “I wanted news on your dad,” Tug replied. “My mother is bringing supper over tonight, and Christa and the kids are baking you brownies with chocolate chips because they said those are the best. And probably cookies, too.” Tug’s voice deepened. “How are you, Renzo? How are you holding up? And how can I help?”