Capturing Christmas

by Shanna Hatfield

  Celia moved down the hall and glanced into a bathroom with barnwood walls and a slate floor. The rustic simplicity of it appealed to her artistic side. She wondered if Frank would mind if she snapped a few photos of it.

  The second door down the hall opened into a big office. A bank of windows provided an amazing view of a pasture where bulls grazed on the hay someone dumped out of a flatbed truck for them.

  The hulking outlines of the bulls against the snow made her want to run outside with her camera. Before she left, she definitely wanted time to explore the ranch. Photography opportunities seemed to abound everywhere she looked.

  She stepped into the room and glanced at a massive desk with a big leather chair behind it and two side chairs positioned in front of it.

  A vision of Frank sitting at the desk with Ransom and Kash on the other side flashed through her mind. Kash would sit up straight and tall, intent on the conversation, while Ransom slouched in the other chair, half-listening as he cooked up some new mischief.

  Amused by her imaginings, she turned around and dropped her jaw. Framed photographs covered an entire wall. A few appeared to go back to the 1800s while others were recent shots of Kash and Ransom with the stock at various rodeos.

  Starting with the images that looked the oldest, Celia studied them, admiring the handsome couples. It appeared the rodeo stock contracting business began in the 1950s. There was a photo of a man with a little boy standing in front of a big, ornery bull. The boy made her think of Frank.

  Without even realizing what she was doing, Celia stepped onto the earth-toned Navajo-patterned sofa to get a better look at a large black-and-white photo. Perfectly composed, the image featured a big Brahma bull, back feet in the air and dust stirring around him. A cowboy rode him for all he was worth. A smudged inscription in the corner made it impossible to read, so she leaned closer.

  “Admiring our family wall of shame?” Kash teased as he stepped into the room and walked over to where she stood on the couch.

  Celia pointed to the photo and Kash moved closer. “That’s one of the bulls my grandfather bought when he started the business. He named him Winky for reasons I don’t know and can’t explain. Wild Willie is one of his descendants.”

  “Do you know who took the photo?” Celia croaked, pointing to the blurry signature.

  “Someone named Louise?” Kash leaned forward to read the writing on the image. A light bulb went off as he recalled a conversation he’d had with Celia at the art show. “That’s a photograph from the Louise Serpa? The one you’re so gaga over?”

  She nodded and smiled. “That’s a treasure, Kash.” Her voice sounded like sandpaper grating over metal, but he could hear her well enough.

  “I assume the fact that you think it’s a treasure is the reason you’re prancing around on the furniture,” he teased.

  Celia blushed and started to step down, but Kash swung her into his arms. “I’m glad to see you up and raring to go. Dad has breakfast ready if you’d like to join us.”

  She nodded and tapped his shoulder, indicating he should set her down. Reluctantly, he did. “You’re welcome to come back later and see the photographs, Celia. You can study them to your heart’s content.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered then followed him down the hall to the kitchen.

  “Well, look at our girl, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.” Frank grinned at her as she walked into the light, airy kitchen.

  Open beams of knotty pine ran across the space. Two chandeliers made of laser-cut metal depicted a cowboy chasing steers. Windows surrounding the deep double sink let in plenty of light. Pine cupboards and drawers boasted pulls made of old stirrups. Celia wanted to take a photo of them with her phone and send it to Kenzie, knowing she’d love the idea for her own kitchen.

  A jar of peppermints and a basket with an assortment of drink mixes sat on a long bar with a granite countertop. Four bar stools with black-speckled cowhide covering the seats sat in front of it.

  A big square table sat off to the side in front of another set of windows, offering a view of a big red barn and a pasture with horses in the distance.

  Kash held out a chair at the table and Celia took a seat, smiling at him as he set another mug of steaming tea in front of her.

  Frank poured coffee into two cups, handed one to Kash, then sat down across from Celia. After he asked a blessing on the meal, he and Kash passed her a platter of sausages and a plate with blueberry muffins.

  Impressed with their culinary efforts, she ate with a good appetite and even helped herself to a second muffin.

  While she enjoyed her breakfast, she listened to Kash and his father discuss plans for the day. Apparently, Frank wanted to ride out to check on some cattle in a far pasture and thought Kash should finish going through a stack of paperwork, keeping him around the house.

  “You don’t have to babysit me,” Celia whispered. The more she spoke, the more the tightness in her throat and chest eased. Her throat no longer hurt like it had the past two days and she felt much more like herself.

  “Nobody’s babysitting you, honey. I’m leaving Kash in the house for you to keep an eye on. Who knows what that that boy might do if I turn him loose today?” Frank winked at her and sipped his coffee.

  She smiled and glanced around the kitchen. Other than the jar of peppermints, not a single holiday decoration was in sight. “Do you celebrate Christmas?”

  “Sure, we do. We go to church services Christmas Eve, exchange gifts. Barb even left us a turkey dinner in the freezer. All we have to do is heat it up,” Frank said, leaning back in his chair. “Isn’t that right, son?”

  “Yep. But I think what Celia has noticed is our lack of decorations.” Kash pointed to the jar of peppermints. “Is that what you’re asking about?”

  She nodded.

  “Prepare to be disappointed. With just us guys here, we don’t mess with wreaths or trees or any of that stuff. If we put something up, it just makes more work for Barb to take down when she comes back from Florida.”

  “Did you ever have a tree?” she asked, taking a sip of her tea.

  “I always put one up when the boys were little, but we quit doing that after they went off to college. What’s it been, Kash? Ten years since we had a tree or any trappings?”

  “Probably close to that.” Kash glanced over at Celia. He could almost see the wheels spinning in her head. Before she went home, he had a good idea she intended to spread a little holiday cheer around the Rockin’ K Ranch. To save himself some trouble, he decided he might as well see if he could find the old trunk of decorations they’d stuffed into a back corner of the storage room above the carport.

  The idea of adding some holiday cheer to the house appealed to him, although not nearly as much as the beautiful girl sitting close to his side.

  Celia could hardly keep her eyes open after breakfast. She offered to help with the dishes, but Kash told her to go rest awhile. Without a word of argument, she left the kitchen and made her way to her room. She woke up in time for lunch and joined the men in the kitchen before returning to her room to rest in the afternoon.

  When she awoke, she found a bag of peanut M&M’s on the nightstand. A piece of twine tied around it stretched beneath the door.

  Intrigued, Celia picked up the candy and pulled on the string, yet it didn’t give. She rolled off the bed and walked over to the door. When she opened it, she noticed the twine trailed downstairs.

  As she walked down the stairs, she rolled the twine into a ball. It led into a family room she hadn’t explored on her self-guided tour of the house that morning. She glanced around at the big television, recliners and general man-cave atmosphere of the room.

  The end of the twine looped around the handle of an old trunk. A note on top, written in Kash’s bold hand, instructed her to do whatever she liked with the contents.

  After she untied the twine, she opened the lid and smiled as an assortment of antique decorations greeted her.

  She lifted out
boxes of tree ornaments popular in the 1940s and set them aside. Bottlebrush trees, a vintage tablecloth with a bright holly pattern, and a snowman bubble light made her smile. Celia almost clapped her hands when she discovered a retro tin full of old jingle bells. She pictured them on a jute string, draped along the mantle as a garland.

  By the time she reached the bottom of the trunk, she’d unearthed a box of incredibly old cookie cutters, four plates with jolly Santa faces, and three adorable little elves that looked a lot like the popular Elf on the Shelf holiday figure.

  An old string of lights appeared questionable if they would work, but when she located an outlet and tried them, they flickered to life, glowing in soft colors.

  “Are you ready to deck the halls?”

  Celia glanced up at the handsome man standing in the door and forced herself not to scowl at him.

  “Hi, Ransom.” Her voice no longer sounded croaky, just a little hoarse.

  “How did you know it was me?” He walked inside the room and picked up a blown glass ball, holding it up to the light.

  “I have magical powers,” Celia joked, unplugging the lights. Ransom was the last person she wanted to see. Regardless of how much she disliked him, she was a guest in his home and would be polite if it killed her.

  “I’m starting to think you do.” Ransom set the ornament back in the box and flopped down on a recliner. “Are you planning on doing something with this stuff? We haven’t decorated for years.”

  “Your dad and Kash mentioned that this morning.”

  Ransom picked up a red felt stocking with his name written across the white cuff on top in gold glitter. He rubbed his fingers over it, lost in his memories before he sighed and leaned back in his chair. “How’d you really know it was me and not my brother?”

  Celia turned his direction, wondering if he was curious or just didn’t know what to say to her to make idle conversation. “It’s easy to tell you apart, once a person knows there are two of you. It isn’t so much how you look but act that creates the difference.”

  Ransom appeared confused but didn’t question her further. “I suppose I owe you an apology for the first few times we met.”

  At her raised eyebrow and disdainful glare, he sat forward in the chair and rested his elbows on knees. “And for the text I sent from Kash’s phone. And all the nasty things I said about you.”

  “What is this? Confessional time?” Celia teased, sensing Ransom’s pensive mood as she sorted through the box of tree ornaments. “I will most likely forgive you — at some point in the far, far distant future.”

  Ransom gave her a smile that looked more like Kash’s than any she’d seen from him. For once, it appeared sincere. “I really am sorry, Celia. It’s not that I don’t like you or Kash, for that matter.”

  Celia stopped admiring the ornaments and stared at Ransom. “Then what’s the problem? Why do you want to make the people around you miserable?”

  “Misery loves company and all that, right?” Ransom picked up one of the elves and studied it before tossing it back toward the trunk. “I’ve tried telling Dad and Kash how much I hate this business.” He waved his hand in the air, as if to encompass the house, the ranch and everything connected to it.

  “And?” Celia waited for him to continue.

  “They don’t listen to me. I’m tired of doing this. It’s something they both love, not me.”

  Pity for Ransom Kressley swamped her. His family attempted to shove him into a mold impossible for him to fill. “What do you love, Ransom, other than causing your brother grief?”

  He grinned at her and leaned back in the chair again. “Football. I love football. If I’d had better grades and hadn’t torn my ACL my senior year of high school, I wanted to go pro.”

  “So what’s plan B?” Celia picked up a resin reindeer and dusted it off with the hem of her sweatshirt. “Obviously, you can’t play football. What would be the next best thing?”

  “Promoting it.” Ransom gave her a long look then released another sigh. “I haven’t mentioned it to anyone, but I applied for a job as a promotional manager for an arena football team. I’ve had two interviews with them. It might actually turn into something good.”

  Celia reached over and patted Ransom’s hand. “That’s awesome. I’m sure your father and brother will be happy for you if something comes of it.”

  “I doubt that.” Ransom shook his head. “Whether I get the job or not, I’m done with the business. I just can’t do it anymore.”

  “Talk to your dad and Kash.” When he started to comment, she held up a hand to silence him. “Talk to them, not yell at each other, and tell them what you just told me.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Ransom got to his feet and looked around. “Don’t you need a tree and some other stuff?”

  “Only if you guys want to have a Merry Christmas. I’m hopeful Kash can be coerced into taking me to town tomorrow.”

  Ransom snorted. “All you have to do is crook your little finger his direction and my brother will come running. For the record, I’m glad he found you. You’re good for him.”

  “Thanks, Ransom. Now get out of here before you make me start blubbering. I look like a runny-faced pug dog when I cry and the sight of it is not for the faint-hearted.”

  He grinned and strolled out of the room.

  Celia went to the kitchen, made herself a cup of tea, and helped herself to one of the peppermints. She grabbed a dishtowel from the counter and returned to the family room.

  As she wiped a decade of dust off the decorations and set them out around the room, she sucked on the peppermint and sipped tea.

  “Whoa! It looks like Santa’s elves are preparing for a blow-out yard sale.”

  Celia stared at Kash as he strolled inside the room. He bent down and cupped her chin in his strong fingers, staring into her eyes. The back of his hand brushed her forehead. He nodded his head, pleased her skin didn’t feel hot.

  “Did you find some treasures?” he asked, picking up the elf Ransom had tossed back at the trunk.

  “I can’t believe you guys have all these great antique decorations and don’t even appreciate them.” Celia smiled smugly when Kash glanced at her, surprised to hear her speak in full sentences.

  “It’s so good to hear you talk, even if you still sound like you’ve got a frog latched onto your windpipe.”

  She giggled and tossed her dishtowel at him.

  “Kash?”

  “Hmm?” He picked up the string of lights and started to work out the tangles.

  “Do you think we could get a Christmas tree tomorrow?”

  “That could be arranged, as long as you’re up to it.” He smiled at her and sat down on one of the recliners, pulling her onto his lap. “Just don’t overdo it today.”

  “I won’t.” Celia rested her head against his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. Steady and solid and sure — that was Kash Kressley.

  “While we’re out and about, I can run you by the auto shop and you can get whatever I left behind in your pickup. Most of it, I boxed up and it’s sitting in the closet off the front entry.”

  Celia hadn’t wanted to think about her pickup, but she knew she needed to. “What’s the verdict on my truck?”

  “It’s dead, as in no hope to resuscitate, unless you want to invest a bunch of money in a new engine. The mechanic rattled off several other things that are wrong with it. I think the poor ol’ thing just needs to be retired, Celia. I know it’s special to you because it was Cort’s, but you’d be far better off spending your money on a down payment for a new vehicle. The auto shop offered to buy the pickup for parts. It sounded like a fair offer so you might want to consider it.”

  She sighed. “I will. I think I’ll wait until after Christmas to get a new rig, though. Isn’t the end of the year supposed to be one of the best times to buy a car?”

  “So I’ve heard, but I think it depends a lot on what you’re buying and what kind of quotas the
dealer is trying to make.” Kash kissed the top of her head. “I’d be happy to go with you.”

  “I’d like that.” Celia closed her eyes and let herself fully relax against him.

  She awoke an hour later on the couch in the office, covered with a soft fleece blanket. As she stretched and rolled over, Kash smiled at her from where he worked at the desk. “Hey, sleepyhead. Did you have a nice nap?”

  “Yes, I did. Thank you.” She sat up and tried to take a deep breath. It brought on a round of coughing, but they weren’t as deep or as painful as they’d been the day before.

  Kash hurried over and rubbed her back. She didn’t know where he’d learned to be so gentle and caring, but whoever taught him had done a great job.

  “Do you want to go back up to the guest room? Can I get you some tea? Cough syrup? Anything?” His glance held worry as he hovered over her.

  She smiled at him and shook her head. “No. I’m fine. Can I help with dinner? Isn’t it about time to eat?”

  Kash stood and helped her to her feet. “It is. Dad and Ransom are in charge of warming up tonight’s specialty. Barb froze a bunch of food for our dinners. We’re supposed to eat the leftovers for lunch and not starve to death or eat a steady diet of fast food until she gets back.”

  Celia smiled as they walked down the hall to the kitchen. “From what I’ve tasted, she’s a wonderful cook.”

  “She is, and she puts up with the three of us without complaint, so we’ve voted to keep her for as long as she’ll stay.” Kash placed his hand to the small of Celia’s back as they entered the kitchen.

  Ransom drained water from a pot of pasta while Frank dumped bread sticks into a basket.

  The older gent looked up at her and smiled. “Hi, honey. Looks like you’ve found some of our old holiday stuff.”

  “I did. If you guys don’t mind, I’d love to put some of the decorations up before I go home.” Celia sat down in the chair Kash held out for her.

  “That’d be fine.” Frank took the seat across from her. “Did I hear someone say something about getting a tree tomorrow?”