by Liz Isaacson
“Why are you mad?” he asked.
“Who says I’m mad?”
“You came in here hissin’ like a cat who just got tossed in a pond,” he said, his head bent. “Not hard to see, Shay.”
She let a moment of silence pass before saying, “I’m mad because I need more time to process things before I answer.” She straightened her thoughts, trying to see past the anger. “You ask me questions non-stop, and sometimes I’m not expecting them. I don’t know how to react. I need time to think. Or even a heads-up, like hey, I want to talk to you about being my girlfriend later. Okay? Then I have time to think. You give me no time to think.”
At some point during her speech, he’d turned to face her. He blinked and said, “I don’t ask you questions non-stop.”
“You do,” she insisted. “I’m…I’m not used to sharing my life with someone else. It’s really hard for me.”
The fire in his eyes cooled. “Surely you had friends in the Army. People you shared your life with.”
“Surface stuff,” she said. “You…you want me to go deep. You want me to tell you stuff I haven’t told anyone, Austin.” Her insides felt jiggly, and tears—actual tears—stung the back of her eyes. “Anyone,” she said again.
They stood facing one another, glaring, for at least ten full seconds. Shay couldn’t tell. It felt like an eternity. Finally, Austin swept into her personal space, taking her fully into his arms, just as her first tear leaked out of her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, his arms glorious and strong and perfect around her. “I didn’t realize I was asking so much of you.”
“I know that now,” she said into his chest. “This is all new for me, and I’m terrified, and I—I—” She couldn’t tell him she had no intentions of marrying. Ever. Not him. Not anyone.
He managed to keep her close and move far enough away to look into her eyes. He wiped her tears gently, lovingly, and she wanted to give her heart to him. But she’d seen what had happened to her father without his most vital part. And she couldn’t give up that piece of herself. Wouldn’t.
“I’m just a lowly cowboy from San Antonio,” he whispered. “Playing ranch here until I figure out how to do it properly. Nothin’ to be afraid of.”
She shook her head, completely unable to explain. At least her blasted tears had quieted, but she couldn’t quite look him in the eye and she let herself focus on his collar instead.
“Maybe you can tell me why you’re so scared sometime,” he said, gently pushing his fingers through her hair in such a way that lit her scalp on fire.
“Doesn’t have to be today,” he added quickly. A smile brushed his lips. “And I’d really like to have that girlfriend talk soon.” He lifted her chin so she’d look at him. “Okay? You can tell me what you want to tell me, when you want to. But I should be clear—I want to know everything about you. Everything. Good. Bad. Ugly. Past. Present. Hopes for the future.” He swallowed, a measure of fear entering his own expression. “See, I lied.”
“You did?” Shay relaxed her grip on his biceps, glad she felt like she could support her own weight now.
He nodded slowly, seriously. “Yeah. When I said I wasn’t interested in this. Big, fat lie.”
Shay dug past the deep well of fear right in the middle of her gut. “That’s what scares me the most.”
He tilted his head, narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to understand. “You seem interested too.”
“I am,” she said.
“And that’s what scares you.”
No, not really, but Shay couldn’t vocalize what lay at the root of her horror. At least not right now. So she just nodded.
“Can I ask you one more question?” he asked.
“Only if you’re okay with me not answering it.”
A flicker of light ran through his eyes. “All right. How many boyfriends have you had?”
“Two,” she said, glad this question was relatively easy.
“And you didn’t talk to them about personal stuff?”
“It wasn’t like this.” She tucked herself back into his chest, liking the steady thu-thump of his heartbeat comforting her in a way she’d never experienced before. “They were military boys. No one in the shop was interested in a female mechanic, and even if they were, I was too busy trying to prove myself to notice.”
“So nothing serious?”
“Not even close to serious.”
“Hm.” Austin swayed slightly, and Shay moved with him, relieved and grateful her fury had gone from the raging animal stomping out of her cabin to this much more peaceful feeling of standing in Austin’s arms. She knew which she preferred. She just didn’t know if she could hold onto it for much longer.
Darkness fell a few hours later, and Austin sat beside her on the front steps of the homestead as the first pair of headlights cut a path down the lane.
“They’re here,” he murmured. “I hope this works.”
“We’ve tested it,” she said. “It’s going to work.” But a trickle of trepidation tiptoed through her too. Four, five, six trucks arrived, and men started jumping down from the beds in the back and spilling out of the cabs. Shane, Dylan, and Robin came out of the homestead, bringing the scent of warm chocolate and sugar with them. Conversations started, laughter lifted into the air, and Austin stood to help set up the table that would hold the doughnuts and hot cocoa they’d promised.
Treats got eaten, and Shay got introduced to a bunch of cowboys whose names she’d probably forget before the lighting ceremony. But they all knew Austin, and he seemed glad they’d come. So she pinned a smile to her face and shook their hands, glad he didn’t introduce her as his girlfriend.
“All right,” Shane finally said. “Should we do this? We’ve all got to work in the morning.”
“Work shmirk,” Dylan said, grinning.
“We’re ready,” Austin said. He exchanged a glance with Shay, who nodded, and then Shane, who gestured for him to continue. “All right. Thanks for comin’. So the Triple Towers Ranch used to have a tradition of decorating the ranch buildings, fields, and homestead for the holidays. Townspeople used to come out and drive through as part of the festivities, and we’ve dusted off all the old decorations, added a few new ones, and we want to share them with you.”
Silence followed his speech, and he smiled. “So give us two shakes, and we’ll get this place lit up. You’re welcome to drive around. The best view is out by the towers, but I might be biased.”
Shay knew what he liked the best—the same thing she did. The huge star on the tall water tower. There was simply something magical about it, as if it truly marked where the Christ child lay in His manger.
Austin nodded toward the homestead and she followed him inside, through it, and into the backyard, where her two German shepherds were playing with Shane’s sheltie and Dylan’s shepherd.
“You ready?” Austin asked, locking eyes with her as he put his hand on the breaker that would send electricity to the equipment shed, which would send the power to everything they’d worked tirelessly to set up.
She put her hand over his. “Ready.” Together, they pulled it down, and the loud clanking was followed by the buzz of electricity and then the roof of the house blazed to life with white, red, and green lights.
A shout went up from the front yard, and Austin grinned. “C’mon, beautiful. Let’s go see it in the dark.” He bent down and swept a kiss along her forehead before scurrying back through the sliding glass door.
Shay stayed in the backyard for a few moments, reliving that quick touch of his lips to her skin. Absently, her fingers drifted up to her hairline as if she’d feel a physical remnant of his kiss.
A wet nose met her hand, jolting her out of the stupor. “Go play, Lizzy,” she told the dog before following Austin. After all, she wanted to ride with him in the back of his sister-in-law’s huge truck, huddling in close to stay warm as they experienced the magic of Christmas on Triple Towers Ranch together.
Chapter Eleven
Austin had never seen anything so beautiful as his ranch all lit up. The sleigh on the roof made a boyish giddiness rise through him. The eight tiny reindeer weren’t so tiny when he’d put them up, but they looked absolutely perfect poised in front of the sleigh.
Red, white, and green lights ran in stripes from the pinnacle of the roof to the rain gutters, the perfect accent to Santa and his sleigh.
“Let’s load up,” Austin said, and everyone started heading back to the trucks they’d come in. He looked around for Shay, finally finding her as she hurried down the front steps. He helped her into the back of Robin’s truck, where Dylan and Hazel had already cozied up together, their backs resting against the windows of the cab.
Austin sat next to his brother, leaving a sliver of space for Shay, which she slid into, settling comfortably against his chest so they could view the ranch. Shane drove slowly, and the music filtered back from the cab through the open windows.
The snowmen pulsed in time to the song, something Shay had labored over for hours in her cabin after work. The chicken coops dripped with icicle lights. The cabins had all been decked out in a different color of lights that blinked and winked in time to the beat.
“Everything’s perfect,” he whispered in Shay’s ear, glad when she seemed to melt further into him. He didn’t see a single thing they needed to tweak or fix, and as the truck turned to drive past the towers, he held his breath.
He’d seen pictures of them lit up for Christmas, but witnessing them in real life, with nothing between him and their glory, was spectacular. One of the silos had red and white lights spiraled around it to mimic a candy cane.
Beside that, the star shone for all the world to see. Austin couldn’t take his eyes from it. He wondered what it would have been like to be on the Earth on the night Christ was born. Would he have traveled to see the baby? Brought him a gift? He liked to think so.
A sense of peace so pure filled him. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, the imprints of all the lights flickering on the backs of his eyelids as he silently expressed his gratitude for the Lord, and for this reminder that he’d get to look at for the next few weeks until they celebrated the birth of the Savior.
“I love that star,” Shay said, and Austin opened his eyes again to see they’d moved past the towers, the third of which was white from top to bottom—and had caused his back a lot of pain—with half a dozen lit up wreaths in various colors.
“Me too.” He kneaded her closer. “Thanks for letting me be a part of this.”
“Of course.”
Back at the homestead, all the cowboys congratulated the brothers for the “awesome light show,” and “great way to celebrate the season,” before they took another doughnut for the road and headed back to Grape Seed Ranch.
Austin watched Dwayne and Felicity, his old bosses go, as well as Kurt and May who used to be his next-door neighbors. He missed them. Sure, Dean and Chadwell had come over from the ranch, and Shane had hired four new ranch hands. But Austin had spent most of his time with his brothers, and then Shay, and he realized he was still as lonely as ever.
Then Shay’s delicate hand slid into his, and he seized onto it, using it to ground himself. And he didn’t feel so alone anymore.
Austin slept late the following morning, surprised when he woke and the sun was already streaming through his upstairs window. The house felt eerily quiet, and he swung his legs over the side of the bed, listening.
Shane would’ve gotten him up if he hadn’t shown up for work, but Austin’s phone said it was almost seven-thirty—about an hour later than he normally would’ve gone downstairs. His brother always had coffee on, but today, the kitchen sat cold and empty.
“Shane?” he called, glancing down the hallway that led to his and Robin’s bedroom. “Robin?”
Nothing. A blip of anxiety pinged through him. He checked his phone again—no texts or missed calls. Starting toward the hall, his eyes caught on a piece of paper stuck to the fridge. It had his name on it, and he pulled it down.
Dwayne and Felicity called. Heading over to their ranch. Call you later. ~Shane
Confusion furrowed Austin’s brow. “Dwayne and Felicity?” What had happened? Were they hurt? He wasn’t going to wait around for Shane to call him. He tapped a few times on his device and got the line ringing on his brother’s phone.
“Hey,” he said when Shane picked up. “What’s goin’ on with Dwayne and Felicity?”
“They got a call late last night, after the lighting ceremony. A birth mother chose them.”
Austin stared out the window above the kitchen sink, shock and gratitude and relief mixing into a powerful cocktail inside him. He exhaled, a smile pulling against his mouth. “That’s great.”
“He called this morning and asked for help.” Something clanged in the background on Shane’s end of the line. “I guess they normally have a lot longer to get ready—a whole pregnancy. But this mom just decided overnight to put her baby up for adoption, and she’s already in the hospital.”
“Oh, wow.”
“Dwayne and Felicity left to go be at the hospital with her in Austin, and we’re settin’ up the nursery.”
“Do you need more help?”
“Nah. Dylan’s barking orders like it’s his kid.” Shane spoke with fondness in his voice, the edge of a tease. Dylan loved kids and had often babysat Greta, Kurt and May’s little girl, before the brothers had bought the ranch and moved. Austin knew he sometimes still went over there, especially now that they had a new baby.
“I need you to get the essential chores done on the ranch,” Shane said, and pride swelled Austin’s chest. Maybe his brother did trust him with important things.
“Of course, yeah. I’ll get it done.” Austin hung up and took a few more moments to enjoy the moment. Dwayne and Felicity were getting a baby—something they’d both wanted for a while and couldn’t have alone.
Austin appreciated the miracles God performed for people, and he felt like the all-seeing being was aware of him in that tiny moment of time.
“Help Shay,” he whispered, glad his first thought was of someone else and not himself. His mom would be so proud, as she’d spent years lecturing her boys to put others first. “Go to work and forget yourself,” she’d said more times than Austin could count.
And so today, that morning, he followed her advice. He got to work, taking care of the horses, the chickens, the two goats they had—some work that Dylan usually did. He got Oaker and Carlos, Dean and Chadwell, Shay and the other ranch hands, all up to speed on what was going on, and then he sent them out to their jobs for the day.
He’d promised them lunch, so he called in a big order to Submarine Sam’s, and went into town to pick it up. He made the familiar turn onto Grape Seed Ranch, going under that peach-carved sign and on down the road toward his old cabin.
May met him on the front porch and took one of the six-foot sandwiches. “Thank you, Austin. Busy day around here.”
“I bet it is.” He glanced next door, where he’d lived for four years. Everything was peaceful here, though a hint of excitement hung in the air. After everything was set for lunch on this ranch, May handed him a large plastic container.
“Shane said you’ve got yourself a girl.” She smiled, and another ache moved through Austin. How he loved this ranch, with these people on it.
“Said she likes soup.” She nodded to the container. “That’s some of Kurt’s famous chicken and wild rice soup. We hope she likes it.”
“Thanks, May.” Austin gave her a hug. “Tell Kurt thanks too.” He went on back to his own ranch, repeating the process of setting up lunch for his own ranch hands.
Robin worked a lot, all over Hill Country. She didn’t even come home some nights, but stayed out at different ranches and farms where she worked. Shane was great at making people feel like they mattered and they belonged, but he couldn’t cook all that well. Better than Dylan or Austin, but nothing like what May or Felici
ty could do for the cowboys at Grape Seed.
Austin thought of Shay and her homemade spaghetti sauce, wondering if she might be the woman on the ranch that could bring everyone together with food.
But that day, he was the man with the sandwiches. Instead of clanging a big, metal triangle to call everyone to the table, he sent a group text, telling everyone the food was here. One by one and two by two, they came to the homestead. Just like at Thanksgiving, the house filled with chatter and laughter and chaos and love.
Austin adored the energy, and he caught Shay’s eye before ducking out the back door with his plate of food. She followed him, both of her dogs hot on her heels.
“How are things goin’ over at Grape Seed?” She settled beside him on the bench on the patio.
“Seemed fine,” he said. The air barely moved today, and the sky was cloudless and deep.
Shay took a bite of her sandwich, and Austin enjoyed the comfortable silence between them. He’d experienced lots of silence with her. Terse, angry silences. Huffy, annoyed silences. Out of all of them, he liked this quiet between them that didn’t have any charge to it.
“I think I’m ready to have that talk you wanted to have.”
Austin cut her a look out of the corner of his eye, not willing to fully commit quite yet. “Which one?”
“The girlfriend one.”
That got his full attention and he put the last few inches of his sandwich back on his plate. “Yeah?”
Her smile broadcasted only a hint of hesitation. It was more of a smirk, a flirty grin, than anything else. “I don’t reckon it would be a problem if you introduced me as your girlfriend—but.” She enunciated the T sound harshly, another coy smile on the heels of it. “Only if I actually am.”
He searched her eyes for an explanation and didn’t find one. “I don’t get it.” He’d pretty much laid everything on the line between them. What else did she need?
“Well, I don’t know what kind of women you’ve dated….” And she looked at him, those beautiful dark hazel eyes full of questions.
