The Secret of Santa

by Liz Isaacson

  “Yes, I need a brand-new garage door,” Ace said. “The other one is all bent, and there might be some other repairs to the tracking system or something.” He paused, cocked his head, and added, “Yes, I said bent. It’s super bent.” He looked at Holly Ann. “Like, I drove my truck right into it bent, and I need it done fast.” He grinned at her, and it should be illegal for a man to have such a great smile, complete with straight, white teeth and that dimple in his right cheek.

  Utterly and perfectly illegal.

  “Who’s car is that?” Dad asked the moment Holly Ann stood from behind the wheel of the rental.

  “Hello, Dad,” she called, stepping to the back door to get out the extra cookies she’d brought from her meeting.

  Her dad came down the front steps. She’d never arrived at her childhood home and not found him lurking in the screen door or, if it was really cold, the front windows. He said he liked to know precisely when his girls arrived, but she and Bethany Rose suspected he stood there a lot, keeping tabs on the neighborhood.

  If the police ever needed to know who’d driven up and down this street, the sisters knew their dad would have a record of it, complete with make, model, year, color, and the license plate of every vehicle.

  He’d been a detective for thirty-five years, so it was something they all laughed about. Holly Ann had never actually seen a notebook or record like that, but she didn’t doubt for a second that it existed.

  “It’s a rental,” Dad said, peering at the windshield where the sticker sat. “Why are you driving a rental?”

  Holly Ann handed him the cookies and closed the back door. “Ace ran into my garage,” she said. “I couldn’t get my car out, so I’m driving this until the door gets fixed.”

  “Ace Glover?” Dad asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “Yes, Dad. The same man I’ve been seeing for a while now.” She rolled her eyes and nodded to the cookies. “Eat one of those on the way in. I’ve got a lot to talk about tonight.”

  “So much that I need a cookie before dinner?”

  “That’s right,” she singsonged. “Is Bethany Rose coming tonight?”

  “They’ll be here in a few minutes.” Dad led the way up the walk to the steps. “Anything I need to know you don’t want them to know?”

  Holly Ann thought as she followed him inside, scowling at the horrible shag carpet he refused to replace. It kept coming clean, so he saw no reason to spend money on it. Holly Ann had considered spilling something really greasy or oily on it just so he’d dig into his savings account and step into the twenty-first century.

  “Just about the suit,” she said, her voice automatically hushing. “I tried to break up with Ace, because I don’t know how I can keep it a secret from him. It’s going to be hard enough to run the festival and sit on the throne without anyone finding out, and I don’t know.” She sighed and tossed her purse on the counter in the kitchen where everything piled up.

  “Tried to break up with him?”

  “He wouldn’t let me this time.” Holly Ann smiled, gazing out the window at the pastures her father used for his horses.

  “You seem happy about that.”

  “I am,” Holly Ann turned and faced her father fully. “How are you?” She stepped into him and hugged him tight. Her dad gave the best hugs, and Holly Ann had never doubted for a second that he loved her. She loved him with the fierceness of the sun, and she tried to hold him as tightly as he embraced her.

  In the end, she just giggled and said, “You’re squeezing me to death, Daddy,” something she’d been saying since age five. He laughed too and released her.

  “Holly Ann, the suit will take care of itself.”

  “I don’t even know what that means,” she said, rolling her eyes. He always said something cryptic about it, and Holly Ann had given up trying to get a straight answer from him.

  “Just remember to wear the contacts,” he said. “They help a lot.”

  “Okay,” she said, facing the array of bowls on the counter. “What are you doing here? What can I help with?”

  “Omelet bar,” he said, and all the chopped vegetables and shredded cheeses made sudden sense. “I’ve got some of that buffalo sausage in the oven too, so try to control yourself.”

  “It’ll be hard,” Holly Ann said dryly, as she really didn’t like game meat at all, even when it was made into a sausage. She cooked with it from time to time, but it wasn’t her go-to protein.

  Something sounded on her dad’s phone, and he said, “Bethany Rose and Kevin are here.” He left the kitchen and strode past the couches in the open-concept living room. He’d torn down the wall separating the two rooms himself, and he’d had some of his police buddies come help him install the massive, load-bearing beam he’d left exposed in the ceiling.

  He lurked at the screen door, and then opened it, calling, “Don’t worry. That’s Holly Ann’s rental. She has a great story for us tonight,” as he stepped out.

  Holly Ann looked down at his phone, which he’d left on the counter. She saw a notification from something she didn’t recognize, and she took a closer look. She started to laugh when she realized how he’d known Bethany Rose and her husband had arrived. He had security cameras on the house—she knew that. One of them had been installed on the power pole next to the front driveway, and it pointed toward the garage, so he’d know when someone pulled into the driveway.

  “No wonder he always knows when we get here,” she said, still giggling. She couldn’t wait to tell Bethany Rose about this particular quirk of her father’s. Right now, though, she put on her game face, because she was going to be talking about Ace tonight.

  Chapter Five

  Ace pulled into the parking lot at the post office, scanning for a spot. It seemed like everyone in Three Rivers had decided this Tuesday would be the opportune time to mail something, because every space held a vehicle already.

  “Ward owes me big-time for this,” Ace grumbled as he came to a stop at the exit and checked to see if he could turn right to go back to the entrance. Maybe he’d catch someone coming out after mailing their packages.

  It was far too early to be getting Christmas gifts off, as November had just started last week. He supposed some people had loved ones overseas, but certainly not the whole dang town. Ace reminded himself that he’d wanted to come to town. When Ward had asked if he’d be going today, Ace had said, “I can. Why?”

  Winter at Shiloh Ridge Ranch wasn’t nearly as busy for him as for some others. Since he primarily worked on their crops and agriculture, he wasn’t monitoring growth, soil pH, or constantly checking the sprinkling system. He frowned as he thought about that, though, because the ranch needed some serious upgrades when it came to their sprinklers.

  He’d already spoken with Bear, his eldest cousin, and Ranger, his oldest brother, about it. Together, the two of them made the majority of the decisions for the ranch, though anything that required a major purchase would be given to the whole family to discuss.

  The sprinkling system would definitely be one of those items, and Ranger had suggested that Ace put together an official proposal for what was damaged or outdated, what he needed or wanted to improve or fix it, and then come present at one of their weekly meetings.

  Ace had said he would, but the concept still existed out in the ether somewhere. It took him a while to get his thoughts and ideas down on paper, and as he turned back into the post office parking lot, he caught sight of a couple of men he knew walking into the restaurant next door.

  Liam and Tripp Walker. The brothers lived just down the road from Shiloh Ridge, and Ace knew all the Walkers, as well as their ranch, Seven Sons. His mouth watered, and he did love Chinese food….

  “Get the package mailed,” he told himself as a blue sedan up ahead started to back out of spot. “Call Holly Ann.” Maybe they could share some Sesame chicken and chat for more than twenty minutes.

  After he’d hit her garage yesterday, he’d enjoyed his soup before calling The Door Dude to
get it fixed. He’d just gotten off that call when Cactus had rang, asking where he was. Apparently, his appointment was only thirty minutes, not an hour, and Ace had jumped to his feet and practically run out.

  He’d gone back to kiss Holly Ann quickly, but only on the cheek, and his lips wanted more. A lot more. Not only that, but he’d had to admit to Cactus that he’d gone to Holly Ann’s, and his cousin hadn’t seemed too thrilled. Ace wasn’t sure why, as Cactus kept his mouth shut about a lot of things, including how he felt about certain things.

  Other things, he had no problem getting in anyone’s face about. The tricky part was knowing what would cause Cactus to erupt and what wouldn’t. The more time Ace spent with him, the more he learned about the man. He admired Cactus on a variety of levels, and he’d apologized for mixing up the times.

  Ace pulled into the now-available space and reached for Ward’s package on the passenger seat. His brother had been participating in the Cowboys Provide Christmas program for at least a decade. Cowboys from ranches all over Texas came together to help families in their communities, and Ward spent a lot of time in the dedicated forum for the program.

  One year, about half a decade ago, Ward had been the chairperson of the entire organization. He’d coordinated over five hundred Christmases for families sprinkled across the entire state—and Texas was huge.

  The amount of work he’d put in had actually caused him to become physically ill, and Ward had vowed to never take on something that big again. He’d told all of his concerns to others in the program, and now Cowboys Provide Christmas employed a full-time manager, and had two volunteer chairpeople to avoid burn-out and exhaustion.

  This first package was simply his application for this year’s program. He had to volunteer each year, and he had to send in ranch paperwork to show he could actually afford to help someone. Ace could still hear him talking about a family who’d been a sponsor one year—and a recipient. When the chairperson had found out, things had gotten ugly.

  Rules got changed. New regulations put in place.

  Either way, Ward could certainly afford to provide Christmas for a family somewhere. Heck, Ace could too. All of the Glovers too. And not just one family.

  Ace flipped up the collar on his jacket and hurried inside the post office. The weather had started to bluster today, and he hoped Mother Nature would get her frustrations out and let the sun return to the Texas Panhandle.

  Once he’d waited in the insanely long line to get Ward’s thick envelope of papers off to the home office for Cowboys Provide Christmas in Lubbock, Ace left the post office parking lot and pulled back in to China Isle, right next door.

  Chinese for lunch? he asked Holly Ann. She’d brought Chinese food home the other night, after her meeting—and the dinner and family celebration up at Shiloh Ridge she’d missed as she became the Christmas Festival chairperson—so he knew what she liked.

  Can’t, she said. Sorry, Ace. I’m in a meeting with the hospital administrator and about ten other people. You wouldn’t believe what I’m hearing right now.

  His curiosity piqued, he waited for her to go on. When she didn’t, he got out of his truck and went inside China Isle. He could order to-go and take it back to the house for dinner. While he waited behind another customer in the to-go ordering line, he texted Ward and Mister for what they’d like.

  Their orders came flying in, and his SendCents app chinged as Mister paid him for dinner with a, Thanks, Ace.

  He frowned and tapped to get to the transaction. He refunded it and added a note. You don’t have to pay for dinner. I’m here, and I offered.

  He half-expected Mister to send the money again, but he didn’t. A text came in from him instead, and Ace tapped to move back over to that app.

  “Sir?”

  He looked up and realized it was his turn. “Sorry,” he said, shoving his phone in his pocket. “I want two orders of the chicken and snow peas. Sesame chicken with the ham fried rice.” He looked up at the menu, so ravenous. He could eat Chinese food now and later. “Give me one order of the crab Rangoons, and I want the orange chicken too. White rice with that.”

  He paid for the food, and the man said, “Fifteen minutes or so.”

  Ace nodded and moved out of the way. No one waited behind him, so he leaned against a pole facing the rest of the restaurant and pulled out his phone. Mister had said, You don’t have to buy my dinner, but thank you.

  Something seethed beneath the words, and Ace wanted to unearth them. Why did you think you needed to pay for it? Ward didn’t.

  If you were Judge or Preacher, they would’ve expected me to pay them back, Mister said.

  Ace frowned, but he didn’t ask his cousin anything else. Mister’s relationship with his brothers was complicated—and utterly fascinating to Ace. He got along really well with Ranger and Ward, both older than him, as well as his two younger sisters. Ace sat right in the middle, and he felt like he was crucial to his family. He wondered what it would feel like to not feel like that, and his heart hurt for Mister.

  I’m only making you pay for those disgusting PopTarts, he tapped out with a smile. But Chinese food, especially when I offered to get it for you, is no big deal.

  Preacher and Judge had plenty of money too. Why did it matter if one of them bought a ten-dollar meal at China Isle for Mister?

  His mind working hard now, he glanced up from his device and out into the restaurant. It wasn’t hard to spot the Walker twins eating at a table near the middle of the room. Neither of them looked at Ace, and he wasn’t going to go interrupt them for no reason.

  He let his eyes drift to the booths lining the windows, and his heart stuttered. His eyes widened, and he even took a step into the dining room, sure what he was looking at wasn’t happening.

  But it so was.

  “Aunt Lois?” he whispered just as his seventy-eight-year-old aunt tipped her head back and laughed at something the distinguished gentleman across the table had said. He smiled too and looked like he was laughing as well.

  Aunt Lois was on a date.

  Ace narrowed his eyes at the man, finding him familiar. His heartbeat ricocheted around in his chest, and horror filled him as the two of them stood. The man put some money on the table and reached for Aunt Lois’s hand. She actually slipped her fingers into his, and they started to walk toward Ace.

  Leave! his mind screamed at him. Go! Get out of here!

  Bishop was going to freak out when Ace told him about this date. And Bear….

  Ace could hear the growling all the way from the ranch already.

  As Aunt Lois drew closer, Ace wondered if they knew. If any of her sons knew she was dating…the fire chief.

  Donald Parker.

  Ace sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide again.

  In that moment, Aunt Lois looked away from the dark-haired fire chief—and right into Ace’s eyes.

  Her expression changed from joy to horror in less time than it took to blink. She continued forward fluidly, though, pausing in front of him, a fierce look entering her eyes.

  Ace knew this look well, because his own mother could pierce a person’s soul in the exact same way. He swallowed, his voice hidden somewhere deep down in his throat.

  “Andrew,” Aunt Lois said, using his real name.

  This is bad, he thought. You should’ve run when you had the chance.

  “Hello, Aunt Lois,” he managed to say. His eyes flew to Donald’s, who wore a pleasant smile. He had to be in his late sixties or early seventies, and Ace’s mind fired half-formed memories at him about an article he’d read about the need for the fire chief to retire.

  He honestly didn’t keep up with the small-town politics in Three Rivers, but he knew the reason the article had cited was because of Chief Parker’s age.

  “Do you know Donald Parker?” Aunt Lois asked, glancing at him and then back to Ace.

  “Sure,” he said, extending his hand toward the older man. “Nice to meet you.”

  “And you.” He l
ooked at Aunt Lois too.

  “My nephew,” she said. “My husband’s brother’s son. He lives and works the ranch, along with his brothers and all of my sons.”

  “Of course,” Donald said, his smile only growing wider. “Lois says you boys don’t get off the ranch much. What a funny thing to run into you here.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Ace said, nodding for a reason he couldn’t name. “I was just down here mailing something for my brother, and Chinese food sounded good.” He didn’t dare look at Aunt Lois again, but somehow his eyes gravitated toward hers anyway.

  “Ace,” a man behind him called, and he spun that way.

  “My food is ready.”

  “We’ll let you go,” Aunt Lois said briskly.

  With his attention divided between the couple and his bags of Chinese food, Ace didn’t notice that Aunt Lois had sent Donald out the door by himself until he turned around and found her singly blocking his escape.

  “Andrew,” she said very quietly, but with plenty of power in the two syllables. “This is not your news to tell. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said instantly.

  “My sons do not know about this,” she added. “Neither does Arizona. I am not ready to tell them. I expect your…discretion.”

  “Yep,” he said, hoping she’d simply nod and leave.

  When she did, he sagged against the counter behind him in pure relief. A bell dinged, and he jumped away from it. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, that was just me.” He waved to the man who’d started to come toward the register where Ace stood.

  He needed to get out of this restaurant before something else got blown up. Back in the safety of his truck, he managed to exhale. “Holy cow,” he murmured. “Aunt Lois is secretly dating Donald Parker…and you can’t tell anyone.”

  Bishop’s face blipped behind Ace’s eyelids when he blinked. How was he supposed to keep this a secret from his best friend?