Christmas Lights

by Tanya Hanson

  “Me? I’m not six years old.” Lori protested with a big smile of her own.

  “Thank God for that,” Heston tossed in to another of Elaine’s bright glances.

  “I mean it.” Elaine shook an index finger like a schoolmarm. “You won’t have to rush off tonight and drive eight miles home in the dark.”

  Lori laughed. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

  Elaine harrumphed in reply. “There aren’t any street lights around here, city girl.”

  “I grew up in Bandera.” Lori huffed with a chuckle. “And I got here just fine.”

  “You go get some food.” Elaine ignored her. “I’ll call Doris right now and let her know you two are staying over. Your granny won’t dare say no.”

  “But we don’t have any...anything.” Lori waved her little purse, “All I’ve got in here is lip balm.”

  “No worries.” Elaine reached to touch Lori’s hair, like any ma might. “I’ve got daughters and daughters-in-law galore, double it when you add the prefix ‘step.’ And I’ve saved children’s clothes practically since I gave birth to the first of my eight. So whatever you two need, girl, we’ll find. And don’t forget. Anything else we’ll have in the guest services stash. Lotions, soaps. Toothbrushes. Even cowgirl undies in the gift shop. Gratis.”

  Lori flushed. Heston’s heart soared. It’d have been hard to say goodnight to her after the short sleigh ride to her car.

  And now he wouldn’t have to. Elaine was the sort who almost always got her way. Heston hid a smile as Lori chewed her lip.

  Miriam tugged at Lori’s hand. “Please, please, Auntie?”

  “Well, all right, I guess. If it’s OK with Gee-Gee.”

  Elaine grinned, triumph in her eyes. A similar triumph pounded in Heston’s heart. No way would Doris Murrieta dare say no. Heston wondered if he’d had something to do with it. His stepmother’s victory. Lori’s acquiescence. Couldn’t help a twinge of satisfaction. He hadn’t been mistaken about the occasional twinkles of interest in Lori’s eyes.

  “Blankets, sleeping bags, pillows, all from our city-slicker wagon train trips,” Elaine announced, making checkmarks in the air. In the background, a Christmas carol turned country, and Lori swayed in rhythm. Heston swayed in complete contentment.

  His stepmother looked into the space down the hall. “Hmmmm. Let’s get the girls settled in the study. It’s plenty warm in there with the fire going.”

  Above the fray, Heston caught a glimpse of Scott’s smiling face. Maybe he’d find some time to get another viewpoint about Lori. Not gossip. Just another perspective. She seemed tense and comfy at the same time.

  Lori escaped the giggling little girls and sagged against the hallway wall. “What did I get suckered into?” She shook her head.

  “Sounds like fun.” Heston snickered deep in his throat.

  “Sounds like I’m too old for it.” But relief glazed her eyes, too. Heston got it. Her helping to reconstruct the study into a temporary dorm would get her out of camera range.

  Reality smacked him. What had happened in this beautiful woman’s life to terrify her so? To hide that bright light under a bushel like in the children’s Sunday school song?

  But her smile was real and her voice soft. His hand flitted across her cheek, and his fingertips sparked. “Well, I’m sure you can wangle a couch and let the rugrats have the floor,” he said, gratified by her blush.

  By now, the sleepover scheme had grown to include all the nephews and grandsons and an array of Sunday school pals of both genders. Elaine, in her element, started directing accommodations in the bunk house like the tour director she was. The camera crew all but clapped their hands in glee. Which made Heston consider, just for a cynical second, if the slumber party hadn’t been planned after all.

  He rolled his eyes and wondered if Lori saw. Despite its “reality” hook, little of The Last Real Rancher was truly undirected or left unedited.

  “Hurry.” Grabbing Lori’s hand again, Heston pulled her through the dining room into the kitchen. “I don’t want to get roped into chaperoning. I’m still the footloose, carefree uncle.”

  And for the first time ever, he wondered if that’s all he wanted to be.

  “Now, I’m just an aunt, and I’m doing my share.” Lori paused in the kitchen doorway to jam one hand on her hips with a faked fierce nod. “Man up for those nephews.”

  Her laughter pealed across the noisy chatter as her hand held fast to his.

  “Well, let’s get us some grub. You’re gonna need the energy. And everything goes down better on a full stomach.”

  Although empty and quiet, the huge kitchen grew heaping platters of food on every square inch. They grabbed plates and Heston ran ladles full of gravy and brisket over homemade rolls.

  “Sorry, cowboy. This dress is tight enough as it is,” Lori protested, reaching for a tangerine,

  “Eat hearty, author.” Heston demanded with a smile. “It fits perfect.”

  She scrunched her face. “For now.”

  Perfect.

  For now.

  3

  Perfect. For now.

  And it had been. Then.

  Perfect last night, in front of the giant fireplace with hordes of others, because the only one who mattered had sat close by her side. A hard wooden bench had felt cozy as upholstery with Heston next to her. And with camera crew long turned in for the night, Lori had relaxed as though life were normal. As though she belonged in this snug gathering of Martins and Calhouns. Others around her almost felt like family. Singing carols, sneaking peeks at Heston, the scent of pine in the air, and nog on her lips.

  How life was supposed to be...

  Good night, Lori. Looking forward to tomorrow. He’d touched her cheek, lids lowering.

  With her heart in such disarray, she’d taken hours to fall asleep on the saggy couch in the study. She almost imagined his scent lingering upon the sweetly careworn cushions.

  Dawn breaking, her back tweaking, Lori snuggled against the sofa pillows, glad for last night’s memories of Heston, but sad, knowing nothing with him would continue. It couldn’t.

  Giving one’s heart was easier than giving one’s trust. If she hadn’t fallen for him last night, it wouldn’t take but a half day more.

  It was a chance she couldn’t take. Scott had promised Heston was trustworthy. That wasn’t it. She was damaged goods, far from healed. Nobody deserved a mess like her.

  And despite Doyle Calhoun’s friendly good-night hug, the Last Real Rancher’s wholesome show didn’t need the unsavory past Lori Lazaro wore like second skin.

  True, she might shine on TV as Cady Lomax, reveal the writing twosome, shout out about the books to help spur sales but…in no universe dare she chance Kyle finding her again.

  Her stomach soured, ached for Heston’s sweetness. Her heart cracked a little at the impossibility.

  Off in the brightening shadows, little-girl chit chat started up in the quiet study, and Lori found she could still smile. She’d performed awesomely last night as a helpful, loving “auntie” to a half-dozen little girls. Mix in a night filled with lovely dreams of Heston as well as the hopelessness of anything, and she was already exhausted.

  Her heart started a rapid beat. Almost time for snow angels and snowmen and Heston had promised to help make them. Oh, she wanted to see him as much as she wanted to run and hide...

  Somebody’s double-extra-large University of Colorado T-shirt swam around her as she merged with some pillows. Why hadn’t life gone differently? Heston was living behind her eyelids, and she’d gotten good at forcing away Kyle’s face, so how was it he still so controlled... everything?

  Her blood chilled.

  “Hey, sleep well?” Heston’s sister Cagney had braved the floor in front of the fire, and now got on her knees to whisper at Lori. “Thanks so much for riding herd with me. Miriam is so adorable. I think all the girls had a good time.”

  “I think so, too. And I do believe the wild things are stirring.” Lori
smiled, wondered if she and Cagney could be friends. “At least we all made it through the night.”

  “That we did. And I must have slept super tight. I don’t remember a thing.” Cagney rubbed her eyes like a child and then combed fingers through her long tangle of dark blonde hair.

  Cagney’s words chilled Lori’s blood. I don’t remember a thing...

  She hadn’t remembered a thing, either. Back then. Somehow, that made it all worse.

  “Yeah, I guess we better face the day.” Lori rushed to cover the trembles in her voice with a yawn.

  “Yup. I’ll find you some clothes.” Cagney got up, grinned like a true friend.

  Lori warmed deep down, and scampered into the shadows.

  The fire had died down, but red-gold embers still glowed. One child rubbed her hands in front of it, like the little match girl of fairytale. Everywhere in the comfortable room, little waking faces bloomed like a bunch of pretty flowers. Lori would have been stone-cold not to have her heart warmed. When Miriam rushed into her arms, the love and care bubbling in her heart was immediate and real.

  “Thanks, Auntie, for letting us stay.” Miriam’s morning breath landed on Lori like a sweet cloud. “I’m so happy.”

  Lori hugged her niece tight, delaying the upcoming battle with a hairbrush. “You are welcome. Now I suppose we ought to get you dressed. I think there’s a choir of angels to make outside.”

  That started an immediate chorus of Hark the Herald Angels, and a satisfaction Lori hadn’t felt for a long time flooded her skin. She reached for the borrowed clothes that had been laid out in the night.

  “I can dress myself.”

  Miriam flounced away with a stomp of independence, and Lori hid a smile. As far as she could tell from conversations with the young mothers, Miriam was perfectly normal.

  “Here.” Cagney came back with a bundle for Lori. “You better hightail it to the downstairs bathroom now or you’ll never get in. Looks like we had a dusting of snow during the night. The kids are dying to get out in it.”

  Vowing to enjoy the here and now, forget the past and delay the future, Lori laughed, obeyed, washed up in the powder room off the kitchen, and scrambled into gift-shop lingerie and cowgirl socks with horse-shoe knitted toes. Jeans that fit pretty well. And a pink fuzzy hand-knit sweater much like the one her grandmother had made her in ninth grade. Right away she felt at home.

  “If you need a jacket, snow gloves, insulated boots, warm hat—or even long underwear”—Cagney’s eyes rolled this time—“Elaine hasn’t thrown anything away in years. There’s a lost-and-found stash sufficient to outfit Washington’s army crossing the Delaware.”

  “Sounds about right.” Lori’s amusement was real. “You can’t believe what guests leave behind at the ranch in Bandera.” She explained her parents’ present occupation.

  Cagney pulled the drapes open, and her eyes sparkled with morning light. Sunshine spilled across the snowy wonderland outside, brightening the room as much as an electric light. “Try to imagine the detritus after a horde of TV people.”

  Lori laughed but held off a chill as she remembered Scott and Heston saving her from the cameraman. Then she warmed with a forbidden thought of Heston. How had he slept?

  She turned hot all over. Had he thought of her at all?

  As if just thinking of him had conjured him, Heston appeared outside the study, a cup of steaming coffee in each hand. Her heart thrummed. Blood raced beneath her skin. Whether she should want the feelings or not, she welcomed them. It had been so long. Without a word, Heston handed her a mug and, faking elaborate weariness, rubbed his eyes with his empty hand.

  “How’d you do?” His crooked grin took her breath away.

  She held the cup tight so she didn’t reach for him. “Pretty well. And as I understand, you got roped into a bunkhouse chaperone role yourself.”

  “Yup. All for one, one for all.” Heston dragged a hand through his brownish blond waves. “Didn’t get much shut-eye, though. Every ten minutes it was ‘Uncle Heston, you make a good target’ with a pillow thrown at my head. Sheesh.”

  “Well, we French-braided our fingers off, and then your sister had them all asleep with a ‘light’s out.’ She’s the size of a peanut but takes no prisoners.”

  His roar of amusement echoed off the kitchen door, now shut but not entirely able to hold back delicious breakfasts scents. “Hear ya. Despite me being a whole foot taller practically from birth, she ordered me around my whole life. And still does.”

  They both laughed hard, Heston a handsome six-two. At least. Then Elaine’s voice boomed as she hurled open the kitchen door.

  “You two get outside while the snow’s fresh,” Elaine ordered. “We’ll be setting up a buffet breakfast while you play.”

  The childish shrieks split the air, and there wasn’t a camera to be seen. Lori wondered if relief shone on her face.

  Heston and she drained their mugs at the same time. “Guess that means we’re good to go.” He smiled down at her, and her breath hitched, fingers clenched. At least mittens would keep her hands from mingling with the sun-streaked hair tickling his collar. “Better bundle up.”

  As he slid into the shearling jacket she recalled from last night, Lori climbed into a borrowed jacket. He plunked a Stetson on his head and fit the bill so well that she blinked. Wow! Cowboy incarnate. For herself, though, only something warm and knitted. After digging in a big pile for suitable headgear, she checked out her niece, and nodded in relief. Cagney had taken complete charge. Miriam was so thickly bundled that her arms stuck out at ninety degree angles.

  Almost aching to take Heston’s hand, Lori followed him onto the cold, crisp morning.

  Even more than seeing the man, her blood roared as it did every time she beheld the Rockies. Tall silver spires reached through bundles of cloud to stab a sky so brilliantly blue her eyes hurt. And this morning...incredible how new-fallen snow equalized everything with the same pure white sheet. How it hid mud and rust, filled uneven cracks, smoothed sharp rocks. Anything unsightly became as lovely as the pristine mountain peaks, the white hills rolling on like strong, broad shoulders.

  For a flash, she seemed alone in the world with this cowboy she had been told to trust, no matter a swarm of happy kids were at her feet and doting adults gathered around the porch rails. What was going on?

  A dream, that’s all. Her heart hardened. Lori knew full well dreams didn’t come true.

  To thwart her darkening reverie, a snowball splashed against her chest, spattering her face. She laughed at Heston’s audacious grin—he’d directed a nephew to blast her. Kids shrieked, scrounged through drifts to score ammunition. She failed to leave the line of fire a second time, and dots of cold danced across her cheeks.

  “You…you…!” She shouted at him such joy she couldn’t find words. The gentle snowball she threw at Heston’s head broke apart in the wind long before meeting its destination. His laughing face she’d remember for a long time.

  “Don’t you have horses to feed?” Lori pretend-grumbled as she blasted him one more time.

  “Ranch hands have been up for hours, lazybones.” He dumped an extra-large clump on her head.

  “Come on.” Miriam grabbed one of Lori’s hands, Heston the other. “Angels!”

  “Don’t we hear them on high?” Heston shouted as he helped Lori lightly onto the ground. The new snowfall smoothed like satin against her back. For once, she didn’t mind the cold white stuff finding its way down her collar. They waved their arms and legs in tandem against the drifts. Above them spread a sky so blue it couldn’t be real with rivulets of clouds spilling like cream down the mountain tops. Horses whickered from the corrals, and black spots of cattle dotted the snowy hills.

  The moment was magic and music all at once.

  Heston helped her up, and she stumbled in the slippery snow and landed against his chest—realized she’d love to stay there for longer than a second, and realized she shouldn’t.

  Couldn’t.

/>   She broke the moment, watched her own aching disappointment cloud his light brown eyes. “I’m hungry,” she said without really meaning it as she gently shoved away his attempt to brush the snow from her jacket.

  “Hey, if you’re not busy, we’re taking a sleigh ride to see the elk later.” He took off his hat to shake off loose snow Even with hat-hair, he stole every molecule of air in her lungs.

  So alluring her mouth watered. And irresistible. But the common sense she’d tried hard to obtain anew wiggled through her desires. “Miriam and I ought to head home. Gee-Gee probably needs help of some kind.”

  His lids lowered again, in pure flirtation. “Once again, I am chauffeur. How can you resist me?”

  She didn’t think she could. “We-ell...”

  Kids brushed off snow, whined over frozen fingers, and began the stomp up the big porch stairs. Normal. Christmas. How could she resist?

  “Come on.” He took her hand.

  Even with soaked mittens, she felt the zing. Oh, Heston.

  “We’ll be cutting down a Christmas tree for the bunkhouse,” he said. “Calhoun and Martin men have been doing this thing together since our folks got betrothed.”

  Disappointment and delight warred inside her. Oh, Lori wanted to. The family dynamic of inclusion was a powerful temptation, but the old self-doubt rolled through her heart. “Then why include me?”

  “Because we’ve expanded our horizons.” His gaze bore into hers with significance.

  How could she resist him? “All right.”

  “And we do practice responsible reforestation.” He gave a fake glare, hands set Elaine-like on his fit hipbones. “Should you be of the reusable, artificial Christmas tree ilk.”

  She fake-glared back, tingled at his tender smile. “You sound like a brochure.”

  “Can’t help it. My stepsister Chelsea is an environmental scientist.”

  Scott’s baby sister. “Yeah, wow. I remember watching her barrel race when she was a kid,” For a moment, the passage of time rankled. How should Lori go on with the life she had left?

  “Well, we all gotta grow up some time.” Heston’s eyes wore a curious understanding. You can trust him.