A Ranger For Christmas (Linda Lael Miller Presents; Men 0f The West Book 40)
Page 21
“No, thank you,” her son replied a bit more loudly, his accent making him sound almost British. “Uncle Luke said I could help him count out the change in the box. My cousins told me I need to learn how much the coins are worth so that the other kids at school won’t steal my lunch money and buy pudding cups with it.”
Hannah scrunched her nose. Her twin nephews were already proving to be a horrible influence on Sammy. But at least the nine-year-olds were coaxing the shy boy out of his shell and attempting to protect their newest family member. She gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and tried to ignore Isaac’s blatant stare from the other side of the kitchen as Sammy walked out, only slightly more confident than he’d been when he entered.
“Was that your son?” Isaac asked, his voice even deeper and smoother than it had been when they were teenagers.
Stiffening her spine as straight as it would go, she turned to confront the man she’d stupidly fallen for all those years ago.
“I adopted him while I was in Africa on a Teachers Without Borders program.”
He slowly nodded and she watched the relief drain over his face. Then one side of his full lips quirked up, immediately reminding her body of the way his mischievous smile had always had the ability to draw her in. “So you became a teacher after all.”
Hannah grunted, choking down her outrage. How dare he take pride in the memory of their late-night talks sitting on the tailgate of his Uncle Jonesy’s old, rusted-out pickup truck? The conversations where she’d told him about her ambitions and her dreams and he’d told her that she was going to make the world a better place. She cracked an egg so hard, half the shell fell into her mixing bowl.
Luckily, she was saved from having to make any further casual small talk when his uncle swung through the door, balancing a sack of pancake mix in each gnarled hand. “Look what I found! No thanks to Freckles over at the Cowgirl Up Café, mind you. That ol’ gal cursed me up and down a blue streak for not knowin’ that her flapjacks were made from scratch.”
“So then where’d you get these?” Isaac stepped away from the stove to relieve Jonesy of half his load.
“One of the ladies from that quilting group over at the community church brought them over, saying we could borrow theirs as long as we replace it before their homeless outreach breakfast next week.”
Hannah wanted to ask if they’d had a sudden outpouring of homeless people relocating to the touristy mountain town of Sugar Falls. When she’d left two years ago, there’d been a handful of regulars stopping by the shelter for an occasional hot meal, but that was usually only in the snowy, winter months.
However, she kept her lips firmly clamped, not sure if she was ready to find out what else had changed around here since she’d been gone.
As she whisked, Isaac turned to the stove and she tried not to peek at his back. He’d always had those slim hips and long legs, but when had his shoulders gotten so broad? Probably around the same time that his jawline had gotten more chiseled.
Stop it, she commanded herself. This tingling sensation under her skin wasn’t because she was still attracted to Isaac, it was simply her body’s way of responding to the shock of seeing him after all these years. In fact, she hadn’t even recognized him at first. Maybe because she’d been so successful at blocking out all thoughts of the one guy who’d ever broken her heart.
Of course, his curls were gone and his hair was now cropped close. Plus, Hannah never would have expected to see him wearing pants, since she’d only spent time with him during the summer months. Actually, it was a bit jarring not to see him in a pair of board shorts and dressed in a shirt with sleeves that hadn’t been cut off. What wasn’t unusual, though, was to see him in a Sugar Falls Fire Department tee since his uncle had always run the volunteer department.
Why hadn’t anyone in her family warned her that Isaac was visiting this fall? Not that her brothers didn’t have their own busy lives, but they should’ve known that she would want some advance notice that she might run into her ex-boyfriend. While they’d both joined the Navy two years before that fateful summer, they had to have seen the grainy footage of that video someone had taken of Isaac and then posted on the internet.
Her body shuddered at the suppressed memory. Despite the fact that it had been taken down twenty-four hours later, everybody had seen it. The entire town had heard his recorded accusations and she’d never been in such a hurry to return home to Boise.
In fact, after college, Hannah had initially hesitated to take the teaching position in Sugar Falls. She only accepted when she’d been convinced that all the gossip about her had died down. It’d helped knowing that during Isaac’s irate monologue online, he’d told the person holding the video camera that he was leaving for good and would never come back to Idaho for as long as he lived.
Looked like that was another promise Isaac Jones had broken.
Channeling all the old hurt into her whisk, Hannah made bowl after bowl of pancake batter, refusing to think about the man standing only a few feet away from her. She kept her attention focused on the pass-through window and on the boys approaching in their Scout uniforms. She hoped Sammy was fitting in with them and wasn’t overwhelmed by all the new faces. Maybe she shouldn’t have signed him up for extracurricular activities so soon. But he’d be starting a brand new school on Monday and she knew how rough the first day could be for a transfer student who was already accustomed to American schools. It would be twice as awkward for her son.
After a tense hour of Hannah and Isaac each pretending that the other wasn’t there, Sammy rushed into the kitchen wearing a big grin, revealing two missing teeth. “We made four hundred and twenty-eight dollars. How much is that in cedis?”
Hannah had an app on her smartphone that would convert US dollars into Ghanaian currency, but she couldn’t remember where she’d left her purse. She was about to say as much to Sammy when she heard an older boy in a tan Scout uniform snicker. “That’s worth two goats and a water buffalo where you come from.”
Anger flooded her and she was about to admonish the mean-spirited kid when Isaac called out, “Hey, JP, since you seem to know so much about livestock, why don’t you go help Scooter Deets fill up those slop buckets he brought over from his ranch. He needs someone to sort through the trash for any leftover pancake bits that might’ve gotten thrown out. I’m sure his hogs will appreciate it.”
“But that’s disgusting,” the bigger boy said. “Those trash bags are covered in syrup and junk.”
Isaac’s only response was a steely scowl that didn’t invite any more back talk. Hannah should learn how to imitate that expression, since it might prove useful in her classroom full of fifth-graders this school year. JP pivoted with a huff, muttering under his breath as he shoved past a smirking eight-year-old who hid a box of plastic gloves behind his back. Apparently her son wasn’t the only boy who’d been picked on by this bully.
“Kids like that are jealous of worldly guys like us.” Isaac finally turned toward Sammy and gave him a wink. Worldly? Maybe. But guys like us? Please. As if her ex-boyfriend was anything like her sweet son. However, before Hannah could say as much, the man continued. “When I was younger and first came to Sugar Falls to visit my Uncle Jonesy, some of the other boys in town didn’t know what to think because I was new and different. But my uncle kept a close watch to make sure nobody messed with me. So if JP gives you any more problems, let me know and I’ll set him straight.”
“I will.” Sammy nodded as he approached Isaac, curiosity apparent in his expression.
Hannah felt her heels press back onto the ground, her calf muscles relaxing as the fight drained out of her. It wasn’t like she could get mad at the person who’d just defended her son. Then again, it was her role as Sammy’s mother to be his number one protector. After all, it wasn’t like Isaac would be around in the future to take on all the bullies of the world.
“Why are
you making them so fat?” her son asked as Isaac poured the last of the batter onto the griddle.
“What do you mean, big guy?” Isaac asked, and Hannah tried to steel her heart against the sweet tone of his voice. Sammy was a few inches shorter and much thinner than the other six-year-olds in his den. So his smile lit up even more at being referred to as big guy.
“In Ghana, our pancakes are real skinny. Like pieces of paper.”
Isaac knelt down to speak to the boy and Hannah strained to hear his reply. “I’ll tell you what. If you get the recipe for me, next time we have a pancake breakfast, we’ll make them your way. I had some like that once when I lived in Morocco and I bet everyone in town will love ’em.”
Something tugged low in Hannah’s belly. Isaac hadn’t said that he’d make Sammy his own batch, which would only have made her son feel more different and out of place. Instead, he’d had the perfect response, offering to bring a piece of Sammy’s old life to share with everyone in his new life.
It was too bad Isaac Jones never kept his word.
Copyright © 2018 by Christy Jeffries
ISBN-13: 9781488094019
A Ranger for Christmas
Copyright © 2018 by Stella Bagwell
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