The Secret of Santa

by Liz Isaacson

  Cactus had heard the woman sing, and she could take that position permanently and take the music department into the stratosphere. She possessed the voice of an angel, and her soprano voice melded well with his deep, bass tone.

  He didn’t always get to sit next to her in church, but when he did, he sure did like it. She let him hold her hand—at least until she had to sign to Mitchell. Her son.

  Since she’d regained custody of him, Willa had grown exponentially busier. Cactus still had cattle to monitor, and then branding sat right around the corner. Then he’d spearhead the breeding at Shiloh Ridge, and after that, he’d have to administer all the antibiotics for the year before they drove their cattle out into the nearby hills and wilderness.

  If Mother Nature kept the rain to a minimum, summer was actually his easiest time. He worked a lot once birthing season started, and from about November to May, he seriously wondered why he loved maintaining a healthy herd so much.

  He reached the front door first, and he rang the doorbell. It warbled on the other side of the door, and more than one dog began to bark. He looked down at Link. “I’m not takin’ one if they yap all the time.” That was the last thing he needed.

  “We can train ‘im up real good,” Link said. “Benny doesn’t bark, because Bear trained him not to.”

  “Yes, well, I’m not Bear.” Cactus had been living in his older brother’s shadow forever, and he normally didn’t mind. Bear wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but there were very few people or beasts who dared to defy him.

  Cactus put on a spiny skin and barked out mean things to protect himself and keep others away, but he really had a heart of marshmallow. If he got a puppy and it wanted to bark, well, he’d probably let it.

  The front door opened, and a little boy Lincoln’s age stood there. He looked up at Cactus with wide, round eyes, and then he looked at Lincoln. “Heya, Link.”

  “Hi, Jace.” Link let go of Cactus’s hand and went inside the house. “Can we see the puppies? My uncle says he’s not real sure which one he wants.”

  “Come in,” Jace said. He turned and walked away, Link skipping along with him. Cactus stepped inside, everyone he’d brought with him filing in after him.

  A woman wearing an apron over her clothes stepped out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. She grinned at the crowd. “Hello, come in. You’re here to see the puppies?”

  “Cactus Glover,” he said, reaching to shake her hand.

  “Emily Butler. Come in.”

  “My mother,” Cactus said. “Her boyfriend, Donald Parker.” He let them shake hands, and then he introduced Aurora and Ollie.

  “How many dogs are you thinking of getting?” Emily asked, tucking her short brown hair behind her ear.

  “I’m considering one,” Donald said. “I’m going to retire soon, and I need something to fill my time.”

  That was news to Cactus, but he said nothing.

  “I honestly don’t know,” he said to Emily. “The kids are just along for the fun this afternoon.”

  “We’ve got three boys and two girls left,” she said. “The multi-colored ones are taken, but we’ve got solid black and solid gray.” She led them past the kitchen and into the back of the house, which was one big living room connected to the dining room.

  A low fence kept the puppies in the living room, but they all crowded over by it, as Jace and Link already stood there, reaching in to pat them as they cooed at the pups.

  “Come on, Cactus,” Link said over his shoulder. “Come look at this one.”

  Cactus joined the boy at his side, and he had a gray puppy licking his hand. “He’s so cute, Cactus. I like the gray ones better. You can see their faces.”

  “You sure can,” Cactus said. He twisted back to Emily. “Can I pick them up?”

  “Go ahead. Handle them. Get in there with them. We want you to pick the one you like best.” She smiled and turned to Aurora as the girl asked her something.

  Cactus bent and picked up the gray puppy. The animal was a beast already, easily weighing twenty pounds. The dog licked his face, and Cactus chuckled. Yes, this dog was cute. Cactus could easily see him coming to live out on the Edge, and he scrubbed the dog’s back, his skin wrinkling up the way a mastiff’s did.

  “Look at this one,” Link said, grunting. Cactus caught him trying to heft a black puppy up and over the gate, and thankfully, Donald stepped in and took the dog from Link’s skinny arms.

  “I think I like the black ones,” he said to Lincoln, crouching down so Lincoln could get all the puppy’s love without having to hold the animal. “You don’t like them?”

  “I like ‘em,” Link said, looking from the dog to Donald. “I just think you can see the eyes better on the gray ones.”

  “That’s probably true.” Donald cuddled the puppy and then lifted it over the gate again. He stepped inside and started interacting with all the puppies, but the one in Cactus’s arms had settled right down. He rested his head against his chest, right above his heartbeat, and Cactus knew he’d be taking this dog home with him.

  He stroked the canine, a perfect calmness filling him. He probably should’ve heeded Dr. Thompson’s advice about getting a dog months ago, but he hadn’t believed something as simple as a puppy could rid him of the anxiety and anger he’d carried for so long.

  One of the pups kept barking, and Cactus would never pick him. Donald passed him by too, and Cactus turned to Mother. “What do you think?”

  “I think that puppy has you wrapped around his paw already.” She smiled at Cactus and patted his shoulder. “You’re just going to get one?”

  “I don’t know.” He slid the dog he held into his mother’s arms and joined Donald in the pen. Several of the puppies came up to him, and Emily told him the ones with collars had already been claimed.

  He wanted a dog that liked people, not the one that shied away from him and stayed in the corner. He didn’t want one that was too aggressive, like the one who’d jumped up on him. Or one too vocal, like the one still crying at Donald’s feet.

  There were plenty of other choices, and he bent to pick up a black pup without a collar. This one went right for his face too, and he turned his head. He thought he’d like a pair, and he had the money. Two dogs weren’t really more work than one, especially if he was taking them at the same time. He’d be going out anyway. He’d be feeding them anyway. He’d be leash training anyway.

  “I like this one too,” he said to Emily.

  “That’s Rosa,” she said. “The gray one is Louis. You can name them whatever you want, of course. But you’ve got a black girl and a gray boy.”

  “I want them both,” he said.

  “And I want this one,” Donald said, that black pup back in his arms.

  Emily grinned at them and said, “Let me get the paperwork printed. You guys are ready to take them today?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Link said, jumping up and down. Mother laughed and drew him away from his friend to pat the calm, gray dog she held. Cactus stepped out of the pen with the black dog, and he handed it to Ollie so he could sign paperwork and pay for his new puppies.

  Back in the car, Aurora giggled in the back seat as the puppies kept climbing all over her and Ollie.

  “You two okay back there?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Ollie said, laughing with Aurora. “I’m going to ask my dad about getting a dog. These are so cute.”

  Cactus said nothing, but he hoped Tripp Walker wouldn’t be too upset. If someone didn’t have a dog, there was usually a reason why.

  His phone rang, and Ranger’s name came up on the screen. Cactus reached out and tapped the phone icon to connect the call, giving the car a moment to allow the sound to come through the speakers. “Hey, Range.”

  “Sammy and Bear just left the ranch. Her contractions are four and a half minutes apart, though they’re not lasting a full minute. They want you and Link there.”

  Cactus’s pulse went nuts, and he pulled to t
he side of the road, trying to think. “Okay,” he said. “Do you need me to call anyone?”

  “I’m putting it on the family text right now,” Ranger said. “I just called you, because you have Link.”

  “Right.” He started nodding, the landscape beyond the windshield blurring. He got thrown back almost twelve years, to the birth of his own son. This panic felt so familiar, and he pushed against it so he could think clearly.

  “Ollie, can I drop you and Aurora at her place? Or yours?”

  “Either,” Ollie said.

  “My mom will probably go to the hospital,” Aurora said. “Should I just go with you?”

  “If you want,” Cactus said. “Oliver?”

  “I can call my dad,” he said. “But I’m sure I can come along.”

  “We have two puppies,” Cactus said, his mind whirring. Who could he call for help? He didn’t have time to get back up to Shiloh Ridge and back to the hospital. Maybe he did. He didn’t know how long it would take for Sammy to deliver.

  Allison had been in labor for hours, and maybe he did have time to get to the Edge Cabin and back. He didn’t want to leave the pups alone in the house. He could only imagine the nightmare he’d come home to.

  He picked up his phone and tapped a couple of times. The line rang, and he started praying that Willa would answer.

  “Cactus,” she said, her voice bright and cheery. “I got your text. I just needed to look at the sub schedule first, but then Mitch wanted to make banana pancakes.” She laughed lightly, and Cactus grinned at the sound of it.

  “I have a favor to ask,” he asked.

  “Go for it.”

  “I just picked up two puppies, and Ranger just called to say Sammy went into labor. I’ve got Lincoln with me, and we need to get over to the hospital….” He let the sentence hang there.

  “You want me to babysit your puppies,” she said, her voice slightly less enthused now.

  “That I do,” he said, sighing. “It’s fine. We could be hours at the hospital. I can take them to the ranch.” He could leave them in the barn with the horses.

  “You don’t have time for that,” she said. “I can take them, Cactus.”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course.” She sounded sure then. “We’re just at home.”

  “I’ll be there really soon,” he said. “I’m only a few minutes away.” Cactus eased back onto the road and made the next left turn. Only five minutes later, he turned into Willa’s driveway.

  She rose from the front porch, and Cactus couldn’t help staring for a moment. She wore jeans and a red collared blouse with white polka dots on it. Her son stood too, and Lincoln said, “I wish I could play with Mitch.” He looked at Cactus. “Do I have to come to the hospital?”

  “Yes,” Cactus said firmly. “Your mother is having the baby, Link. You can play with Mitch another day.” He got out of the car and opened the back door.

  Oliver got out with one puppy in his arms, and he handed it to Cactus. “I’ll get the other one.”

  Cactus took the gray pup toward Willa, whose gorgeous hair called to him. He needed to touch it and slide his fingers through it as he kissed her. The past ten weeks had been a bit maddening to him, but he’d coached himself to be patient. Willa had several new things in her life right now, and she was juggling a lot.

  “Look how adorable,” Willa said, her smile bright and her eyes locked on Cactus’s.

  “I’m sure you’re talking about the puppy,” Cactus said with a grin.

  “Maybe.” Willa stepped right up to him and pressed her lips to his cheek, the wiggling dog between them.

  Cactus’s mind blanked, and had it not been for Oliver, he probably would’ve stayed staring at Willa, her touch burning through his face and down into his neck.

  “You could probably put them in the back yard,” he said, and that got Cactus to thaw.

  “Yeah,” he said. “They’ll be fine back there.”

  “I know what to do with a puppy,” Willa said, taking the black puppy from Oliver. “You can give that one to Mitch.” She turned, and Mitchell stood right behind her.

  Cactus swallowed, because he hadn’t spent a lot of time with Mitchell. He was a year older than Lincoln, so they weren’t in the same grade, though Bear had told him to take him to Willa’s so the two boys could play together.

  That’ll give you a chance to see her, Bear had said.

  Cactus had suggested it once, but Willa had said Mitch had not had a good day at school, and he’d never brought it up again. She hadn’t either, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that information.

  He’d been learning and practicing sign language, and he shifted the puppy to his left arm so he could say hello.

  Mitch’s face burst into a grin, and he signed back.

  Cactus could sign dog and he spelled out the name he’d chosen for this one. T-a-n-k. He raised his eyebrows, and Mitchell signed something that Cactus didn’t get all of. He needed real, live practice, and he told himself he wasn’t going to let Willa put so much distance between them for much longer.

  He cocked his head and signed for Mitch to slow down. I’m new and don’t know everything.

  Mitch slowed down, and Cactus got the gist of the question. He shrugged and signed, I don’t know. I thought I’d only get one dog, but I got two. It’s a girl. How about you think of a name for me, and when I get back, we’ll talk about it?

  Mitchell’s face lit up, and he reached for the gray puppy. He vocalized something, but since he’d been born deaf, he didn’t know the sounds he made, and Cactus couldn’t understand what he’d said.

  He watched the boy head back toward the front porch, and his eyes lifted to Willa’s. She stood at the bottom of the steps, a shocked look on her face.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You just signed with Mitch,” she said.

  Cactus pulled in a breath, but he didn’t know what to say. So he just shrugged again. He signed, I’ve learned a little. Call you later?

  She nodded, and Cactus turned away from her before he closed the distance between them and told her he’d go to any end of the earth to be with her, and that of course that included learning sign language so he could converse with her son.

  Sneak Peek! The Harmony of Holly Chapter Two:

  Willa Knowlton watched her son take two dogs inside her house. That alone should’ve set her every nerve on fire, as those canines weren’t potty trained at all, and her home had plenty of carpet to get ruined.

  Not only that, but she didn’t own the home, and her landlords had a way of popping by at the most inopportune times. In that moment, she remembered that dogs weren’t allowed here, and that was why she’d homed Abe, her springer spaniel, with Patrick for the time being.

  She’d had to move from the one-bedroom where Abe could live with her to this two-bedroom rental so Mitch would have a bedroom, and giving up a dog to gain a son had been well worth it.

  Mitch giggled from inside the house, and Willa absolutely loved the sound of it. She’d missed her son terribly, and there had been countless nights where she’d laid awake, praying with everything she had that she’d see Mitchell again in this lifetime.

  The Lord had answered her prayers, and she couldn’t believe all that had happened in the past three months.

  She turned back to the road as Cactus revved the engine and drove away. Her heart jumped over a couple of beats, reminding her of the sexy cowboy she’d seen signing to her son.

  “Signing,” she said, her voice quiet to her own ears. She’d shown up at the Glover family ranch on Christmas Eve, a ten-year-old child in tow, and Cactus had taken it all in stride.

  “Right.” She scoffed as she went up the steps and into the house. She needed to corral these puppies in the kitchen so if any accidents happened, she could easily wipe them up. She also needed to find a way to cage her thoughts about Cactus Glover.

  She didn’t think for a moment that he’d taken her reappearance in town with a deaf child
in stride. The man held everything so tight—so tight—and he’d probably been lying awake at night too.

  “Let’s keep them in here,” she said as she signed to Mitch. He sat on the floor as the puppies played with him and each other. He caught the end of her sign, and she repeated it so he’d bring the pups into the kitchen.

  “You could also take them outside,” she said. “The back yard is fenced.”

  I’ll do that, Mitch said, and he pulled open the sliding door that led down four steps to the yard. Early March had brought more sunshine to the Texas Panhandle, but Willa still pulled on her jacket before she joined her son outside.

  The sun wouldn’t reach back here until afternoon, and Willa sat in the rocking chair on the small deck and pulled up her sermon on her phone. Pastor Summers had just talked to her and Patrick, and he’d be announcing his retirement in the next month or two.

  She and her brother had been preaching on a regular schedule for about nine months now. She’d taken a break over the holidays, but she couldn’t wait to share the responsibilities with only Patrick. Right now, she stood behind the mic about once a month, and she’d gone back to leading the choir.

  It had been plenty because of her long-term substitute job, but that would end in another five weeks.

  Willa read what her thoughts had been this week, as she never really taught from a script. She made notes all week about what came to her mind, what struck her, things that had happened, and somehow a message came from all of that.

  She had another twenty-four hours to make it all come together, and she typed in a couple of things about being available to help a friend in need.

  Out in the yard, one of the puppies yipped, and Willa glanced up to find Mitch rolling in the grass as the dog leapt over him. “He needs a dog,” she said aloud to herself. That was one thing she loved about having a deaf child—she didn’t have to censor the way she talked out loud to herself, something she’d done since childhood.