Maverick Christmas Surprise

by Brenda Harlen

  “You know you don’t have to cook for us, don’t you?”

  “I know,” she agreed. “But I’m sleeping in your house and eating your food, so it seems the least I can do is put a meal on the table.”

  “You made meatloaf last night,” he reminded her.

  “Are you suggesting that because you had dinner last night you won’t want to eat tonight?”

  “Of course not,” he said.

  “Is it that you don’t like stew?”

  “Stew’s basically meat and potatoes in gravy, right? What’s not to like?”

  “Good,” she said, and gestured to the bag on the counter. “You can peel the potatoes.”

  * * *

  Max came in a few hours later, stomping to knock the snow off his boots. “Forecast says we could get another four to six inches of the white stuff tonight,” he remarked.

  “Oh, goody,” Beth said dryly.

  The old man chuckled as he removed his boots. “Missing Dallas yet?”

  “I was missing Dallas by the time I hit Colorado Springs.”

  “What’s cooking?” Max asked, hanging his coat and hat on a hook by the door.

  “Beef stew.”

  “It sure does smell good,” he said.

  “Hopefully it tastes as good.”

  “It does,” Wilder said. At her questioning look, he shrugged. “I had to sample it for quality control purposes.”

  “Well, don’t sample till it’s done,” Max said. “I’m hoping there will be some left over for my lunch tomorrow.”

  “You’re not going to be here for dinner?” Beth guessed.

  “No,” he confirmed. “I’ve got other plans.”

  “What kind of plans?” his son wanted to know.

  A hint of pink crept into Max’s weathered cheeks. “I’ve got...a thing...in Kalispell.”

  “A thing?” Wilder echoed dubiously.

  “I’m meeting someone for a bite to eat.”

  “A woman?”

  “What’s with the third degree?” his father challenged.

  “A woman,” Wilder said again, but it wasn’t a question this time.

  Max huffed out a breath. “Okay, fine. Yes. I’m meeting a woman.”

  “So you’ve got a date?”

  “It’s not a date,” his father denied. “It’s just...a thing.”

  “Dinner with a woman in Kalispell sounds like a date to me,” Wilder remarked.

  “I’m going to shower,” was all Max said in response to that.

  “You shouldn’t tease him,” Beth chided, when Wilder’s father had gone.

  “I wasn’t really,” he denied. “I was just...surprised to hear of his plans.”

  “He doesn’t date very much?”

  “It seemed like he had a new girlfriend every few months when we lived in Dallas, but since we moved to Rust Creek Falls, he’s been so focused on getting the ranch up and running, I didn’t think he’d had a chance to meet anyone.”

  “Maybe seeing his sons find love has made him want the same thing,” she suggested.

  “Maybe,” he allowed, though his tone was doubtful.

  “Does it bother you—your dad dating?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “It’s his life.”

  “So why do you seem worried?”

  “Because it’s not like him to be so secretive about his plans.”

  “Ah, so it’s not really the dating but the possibility he might have met a woman he could really care about.”

  “Beneath that gruff exterior is a fragile heart,” Wilder confided. “My mom leaving did a real number on him.”

  “Just on him?” she asked gently.

  He shrugged. “I can’t say that it really affected me, because I was just a baby when she left and honestly don’t remember her ever being around.”

  Beth didn’t know what to say to that, and she suspected any effort to delve deeper into the subject would only be brushed aside, so she remained silent.

  “Is it just a strange coincidence, do you think, that Cody’s mom took off when he was too young to remember her—like my mom did?”

  “It’s hardly the same situation,” she said.

  “It seems like the same situation to me,” he argued.

  She shook her head. “Leighton isn’t gone forever.”

  He shrugged again. “I guess time will tell.”

  Before their conversation could devolve into another argument about her sister, Beth said, “Why don’t you go check on Cody while I serve up dinner?”

  As she opened the oven to take out the bread, his words about playing house from earlier that morning echoed in the back of her mind. And while she still maintained that nothing about the current situation was fun, all things considered, being here with Wilder and Cody wasn’t so bad, either.

  * * *

  Wilder took a thick slice of warm bread from the basket and slathered it with butter.

  “You know, most people run out to the store if they want bread,” he said, still marveling over the fact that she’d made it. From scratch.

  “Why would I venture outside in this ridiculous weather to buy something I could make right here?” she countered.

  “It took me some time to adjust to the cold, too,” he acknowledged. “But a rancher doesn’t have the option of sheltering inside when there are animals to be tended to.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m not a rancher.”

  “We’ll get you out enjoying the snow yet,” he said.

  “Don’t count on it,” she said.

  “Have you ever taken a ride in a horse-drawn sleigh?”

  “No,” she said. “And if your next question is, ‘Have you ever wanted to ride in a horse-drawn sleigh?’—the answer would be ‘no’ again.”

  “I bet Cody would get a kick out of it,” he said.

  Her gaze narrowed. “Oh, now you’re fighting dirty.”

  “I’m not fighting at all,” he denied. “But I am surprised that you’d let your nephew miss out on an enjoyable activity just so that you can stay warm.”

  She huffed out a breath. “Fine,” she relented. “We’ll go tomorrow.”

  He grinned. “Don’t forget your thermal underwear.”

  Chapter Nine

  Beth stood at the window, looking out at the pristine landscape. The promised four to six inches had arrived overnight, so that everything was covered in a fresh blanket of white.

  “It does look pretty,” Beth said to Cody.

  She was holding him with his back to her front, so he could see what she was seeing. He reached out to put his hand on the glass, then quickly pulled it back again.

  “That’s the problem,” she said. “As pretty as it looks, it has to be cold for that white stuff not to melt.”

  “It’s not that cold out today,” Wilder said, joining their conversation as he entered the room.

  “I don’t see the snow melting,” she remarked.

  He smiled. “No, the snow’s not melting,” he agreed. “So go put on your coat and boots while I get Cody bundled up for his first sleigh ride.”

  She appreciated the way the words “first sleigh ride” rolled off his tongue. As if he anticipated there would be a second and a third. As if he wanted the little boy to spend more winters here in Rust Creek Falls with him. Maybe all the other seasons, too.

  For herself, she expected that this would be her first and her last sleigh ride. And though she suspected she’d be too preoccupied with her frozen fingers and toes to enjoy it, a promise was a promise.

  She’d put on a pair of thermal underwear that morning, as instructed, then added a long-sleeved shirt and a thick sweater, blue jeans and two pairs of socks. Cody was similarly dressed in layers, and Wilder had borrowed a down-filled bunting bag with built-in mittens
and a faux fur-trimmed hood for the little guy.

  In the foyer, she shoved her feet into the boots she’d borrowed from Sarah, wrapped herself in Avery’s jacket, pulled a knitted hat over her head, wound a scarf around her neck, and slid her hands into fleece-lined mittens, all accessories courtesy of Lily.

  Wilder chuckled. “You really are a tenderfoot, aren’t you?”

  “And not ashamed to admit it,” she told him, her voice muffled through the scarf already pulled up to cover her mouth.

  “Let’s get out of here before you overheat,” he suggested.

  She nodded and followed Wilder and Cody out the door.

  Though she braced herself for the cold air, she forgot about the weather altogether for a brief moment when she spotted the pair of enormous black horses harnessed to a fancy black sleigh with glossy-painted red runners, a tufted red velvet seat and collapsible roof.

  “Did you steal Santa’s ride?” she asked Wilder.

  “I’m pretty sure that would get my name on the naughty list, so no,” he said. “This is actually an antique doctor’s sleigh.”

  “So you stole it from an old doctor?”

  He chuckled. “That would be another no. My dad bought it, restored, at an auction.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, stroking a mittened hand over the curved side.

  “And it rides incredibly smooth,” he promised. “Of course, you have to actually get in the sleigh before we can go anywhere.”

  He offered his hand, and she stepped up into the sleigh.

  “There aren’t any seat belts,” she realized, as she lowered herself onto the seat.

  “Seat belts hadn’t been invented when this sleigh was made,” he pointed out, passing her the bundled baby. “But it’s perfectly safe, I promise.”

  She nibbled on her lower lip as she hugged Cody close to her body, uneasy with the idea of taking her nephew for any kind of ride without him being secured in an NHTSA-approved child restraint system.

  “You’re not convinced?” he guessed.

  “I’m a worrywart,” she reminded him.

  “There’s nothing wrong with being cautious,” he said. “But trust me, I wouldn’t have suggested this ride if I wasn’t one hundred percent certain that Cody would be safe. Although I can try to rig up some kind of anchor system for his car seat, if that would make you feel better.”

  It would make her feel better. But she couldn’t imagine how they’d both fit in the sleigh with the baby’s bulky car seat between them. And maybe she needed to learn to be a little less rigid all the time.

  “You’re one hundred percent certain?” she asked, seeking reassurance.

  “One hundred percent,” he confirmed.

  “And you won’t go too fast?”

  “I’ll go as slow as you need me to go,” he said, with a teasing wink.

  “Okay, then.” She decided to ignore his double entendre as she tightened her arms around the baby. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  He settled beside her and picked up the reins, and she felt a little niggle of fear as she shifted forward in her seat when the animals began to move. But their gait was slow and steady, the ride as smooth as Wilder had promised, and she soon relaxed again.

  As the sleigh traveled over the snow-covered ground, he identified the other buildings on the property and described their specific uses, pointed out the cabins belonging to his brothers, and answered her curious and numerous questions about raising the cattle she could see in the distance.

  “Now are you willing to admit that this was worth leaving the house for?” he asked, as he paused the horses at the top of a hill for an overview of the sprawling property.

  “More than,” she agreed, as she turned her head to admire the pristine beauty of the land in every direction. “Is all of this really yours?”

  He chuckled. “Not mine, but everything you can see, all the way to that fence—” he pointed to a barrier in the distance “—is the Ambling A.”

  “You really like it here, don’t you?”

  “I thought I’d miss being close to the city when we moved,” Wilder confided. “And I did, at first. But it’s amazing how quickly I adjusted to being out here.”

  “‘Out here’ being the middle of nowhere?” she guessed.

  He grinned. “It’s not so bad.”

  “There’s not even a movie theater in town.”

  “They show movies in the high school gym on Friday and Saturday nights—so long as one of the sports teams isn’t playing.”

  “Oh, well, I had no idea,” she said. “Movies in the high school gym? This town is practically a booming metropolis.”

  “And for anyone who can’t live without a real movie theater experience, Kalispell is only half an hour away.”

  “Kalispell isn’t Dallas,” she pointed out. “It isn’t a quarter the size of Dallas.”

  “Life’s about choices,’ he said. “My dad chose to come here and, as much as he drives me crazy sometimes, I wanted to support that choice.”

  “You’re a good son, Wilder Crawford.”

  “That’s kind of you to say. Of course, being a good son doesn’t necessarily equate to being a good father, does it?”

  “Not necessarily,” she agreed. “But it never hurts to have a positive role model.”

  “It couldn’t have been easy for my dad, having to parent six rowdy sons on his own, but he did it,” Wilder acknowledged. “I respect and admire that, but I wish he’d accept that we’re grown-ups now and let us live our own lives.”

  “Is this about the matchmaker again?” she guessed.

  “Among other things.”

  The cryptic response didn’t invite further discussion, so she only said, “Well, thank you for bringing me and Cody out here. It really was an unforgettable experience.”

  “It was my pleasure,” he said, then smiled as he glanced at the sleeping baby. “But I don’t know that Cody got much out of it.”

  “If nothing else, he got some fresh air.”

  “One of my favorite things about being a rancher is working outdoors,” Wilder confided. “I could never imagine myself stuck in an office from nine to five.”

  “But as a rancher, you often work longer hours than that, don’t you?”

  “And seven days a week,” he agreed.

  “So if it turns out that you are Cody’s father, how would you juggle that schedule with the demands of parenting?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know my family will help. And Cody’s only one baby. There’s another rancher in town—Jamie Stockton—who was widowed with infant triplets.”

  “That must have been overwhelming,” she acknowledged.

  “You’d think so,” he agreed. “But that’s the thing about a town like Rust Creek Falls—the community comes together to take care of its own.”

  “Didn’t you just move here six months ago?”

  “Yeah,” he confirmed. “But I already feel as if I’ve lived here forever.”

  “Of course, that might have something to do with the fact that you share a last name with half the town’s residents.”

  He chuckled. “Not quite half, but that’s a valid point.”

  “So you don’t have any doubts that you’d be able to handle it?”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve got a ton of doubts. But I’ve never backed down in the face of a challenge.”

  Then, because he didn’t want to think about all those doubts, he reached over and gently nudged her chin up. “Look.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes sparkled with childlike excitement and her lips curved. “It’s snowing again.”

  He studied her as she watched the big, fluffy flakes that seemed to be floating on the air rather than falling from the sky.

  “I’ve never seen snow like this.” She smil
ed again as a flake landed on her cheek. “It’s so pretty.”

  Looking at her, watching her surprised joy at something as simple as a snowfall, he couldn’t deny that she was right. It was pretty. And so was she.

  “It’s pretty—until you have to shovel it,” he said.

  “Now who’s being a spoilsport?” she teased.

  And the curve of those perfectly-shaped lips tempted him to taste them, to discover if they were as soft and sweet as they looked.

  But, of course, he didn’t. He couldn’t.

  Because she was Cody’s aunt and completely off limits.

  “Guilty,” he acknowledged, and turned the horses back toward the house.

  “Though white Christmases are an anomaly back home, for some reason snow always makes me think of the holiday.”

  “’Tis the season.”

  “And since it doesn’t look like Cody and I are going to be heading back to Texas anytime soon, would it be okay if I put his presents under the tree when we get back?”

  “Of course,” he agreed. “And while you’re doing that, I’ll make the hot chocolate.”

  * * *

  Wilder stacked logs and built a fire in the hearth while Beth arranged Cody’s presents under the tree, then he went to the kitchen to make the hot chocolate.

  He returned to the family room with two steaming mugs topped with marshmallows just in time to catch her brushing an errant tear from her cheek.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Under the circumstances, everything is better than okay,” she told him.

  “So why are you crying?”

  “I’m not,” she denied, as she accepted the proffered mug.

  “You just wiped away a tear.”

  “A single tear isn’t crying,” she said.

  “So what is it?” he pressed.

  “Proof that the holidays make me a little emotional,” she confided. “Christmas is my favorite time of year, but it’s a bittersweet time, too, because I can’t help but remember all the happy Christmases of my childhood, which makes me think about my parents, and then I find myself missing them and—” she cut herself off then. “Oh, Wilder, I’m sorry.”

  “Why?”