The Mechanics of Mistletoe

by Liz Isaacson

  “Okay,” Wade yelled again. “Back here, Bear.”

  Bear’s face tightened as he used those muscles to move the hose, but he got the job done. He was also soaking wet, and his shirt stuck to his chest in ways that would keep Sammy up at night, dreaming of the man without a shirt on.

  She shook her head at the fantasy, because she hadn’t thought this way about a man in a long time. Too long, if she were being honest with herself. She looked away from Bear and out to the field as the last of the smoke dissipated.

  “I think you got it,” she yelled above the rushing sound of the water.

  “Crank it off,” he said with a grunt, and Sammy took a few steps to the hydrant and turned the wheel like he’d shown her. The water lessened and lessened until only a drizzle came out.

  Bear groaned as he threw the hose to the ground and looked at her. A brilliant smile filled his face, and he took a deep breath, those strong, sexy shoulders lifting up and then falling down as he sighed out the air.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Sammy said. “You’re incredible.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, it’s just life on the ranch when you live in a dry, dusty part of Texas, half an hour from services.”

  Wade Rhinehart came toward Bear, and the two men shook hands. Wade was almost as tall as Bear, but he didn’t have nearly the bulk. “Thanks so much, Bear.”

  “Yeah, of course,” he said. “We’re out here bright and early in the morning too, I hear.”

  “Yeah,” Wade said, turning to survey the land that had been burnt. “I think I only lost a couple of acres to this.” He shook his head, his sigh made of more frustration than Bear’s had been. “What else is the Lord going to throw at us?”

  “Hopefully not much else,” Bear said. “I don’t need a fire at Shiloh Ridge. I’ve had my fair share of broken-down equipment this year already.” He flashed a look in Sammy’s direction, a quick smile on his mouth.

  “Yeah, you have.” Wade took the shovels from his boys and lifted them into the back of his truck. “Well, I guess I better go see how Kaye’s faring at home. The window blew in right next to the china cabinet, and the whole thing toppled.”

  “You didn’t put that on the text,” Bear said.

  “Kaye didn’t want me to,” Wade said. “She’s going through each piece to see what she can salvage. Everything in the cabinet was a family heirloom.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Sammy said, drawing Wade’s attention. She couldn’t imagine losing pieces of her heritage she’d deemed priceless.

  “I’ll tell her you said that.” Wade touched the brim of his cowboy hat and got in his truck. Sammy watched them rumble away while Bear started unhooking his hose from the hydrant. He shouldered the whole load and heaved it into the back of his truck. Dusting off his hands, he came back toward her.

  “Food?” he asked. “I’m sure I can find something at the ranch we can take to your family.”

  She turned toward him as if encased in quicksand. “My family,” she repeated. She blinked, all of her senses returning. Life sure was different out here on the ranch. Slower, and more peaceful. She’d worked on plenty of the ranches surrounding Three Rivers, as everyone stood in need of a mechanic from time to time.

  “Right,” she said. “My family. My mom said she’d look through my fridge for food. Let me call her.”

  Bear nodded, and Sammy stepped away to make the call. “Momma,” she said when her mother picked up. “How are you guys? Do you need lunch?”

  “Daddy’s taking a nap,” Momma said. “Lincoln and I have been cleaning up a few things here and there.”

  “Momma,” Sammy said, plenty of warning in her voice. “I said not to do that.”

  “We’re fine,” she said. “I can stack firewood one piece at a time.”

  “Do you need lunch?”

  She said something to Lincoln, but the words were muffled. “Link says yes, bring us something. But how are you going to do that Sam?”

  “Bear Glover says he has food,” Sammy said, swallowing. “He helped me at the shop, and we went to your place to do some damage assessment.” She cleared her throat. “We should be back within the hour?” She met Bear’s eyes and lifted her eyebrows. He nodded, as he’d clearly been listening. “Okay?”

  “Sounds good,” Momma said. “We’ll be here.”

  Sammy said goodbye and tucked her phone away. “They’d like lunch.”

  “Are they cleaning up?”

  “A little bit here and there, Momma says.” Sammy rolled her eyes. “She likes to pretend like she hasn’t had arthritis for a decade.”

  Bear smiled and moved to open the passenger door for her. She climbed into his truck and watched him go around the front. When he joined her in the cab, he brought a trickle of energy with him that sent sparks through Sami’s whole body. She knew he was older than her, but she wasn’t sure how much older. She hadn’t known him at all in high school. In fact, his youngest brother had been a couple of years older than her.

  “Bear,” she said as he aimed the truck down the mountain from the Rhinehart’s ranch. “Do you mind me…I mean…I was just wondering how old you are.”

  He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. His jaw worked as he clearly attempted to form his answer. Perhaps he wouldn’t answer at all. “I’ll be forty-five in July,” he said, plenty of Texas drawl in the name of the month.

  “Ah, I see.”

  “You think I’m too old for you,” he said, and he didn’t phrase it as a question.

  “How old do you think I am?” she asked, because yes, he was probably too old for her.

  “I have no idea,” he said. “In your thirties, I’d imagine.”

  “Thirty-two, Bear,” she said. “Barely my thirties.”

  “Okay,” he said like the twelve-year difference didn’t matter to him. “When’s your birthday?”

  “The whole town celebrates my birthday,” Sammy said with a smile that wasn’t made of happiness.

  “Maybe July too for you, then,” he said. “Big celebrations around the Fourth.”

  “Nope,” she said. “Not July.”

  He glanced at her again, looking left and right though surely no one came up here except those going to the Rhinehart Ranch. “Gotta be Christmastime, then,” he said.

  “Close,” she said. “What day?”

  “Christmas Day?” he guessed.

  “No.” She shook her head, wishing this was a fun, flirty game they were playing. “There’s a huge parade and everything. The town goes all-out for me.”

  “Christmas Eve,” he said. “The light parade.”

  “That’s right.” She cast him a smile, but he wasn’t looking at her. She focused on the rolling hills as he navigated down them, thinking that this wasn’t the greenest or most visited part of Texas, but it was still beautiful. Sometimes everything could exist in shades of brown, from the fences to the dirt to the cattle, but it all possessed a charm that reminded her that life was good and worth living.

  “I’ll remember that,” Bear said.

  “We don’t celebrate my birthday at Christmas,” she said. “I’m so tired, and I work long hours every Christmas Eve. We usually do it the month before.” She folded her arms, the real reason for her early birthday celebration just beneath her tongue.

  “I see,” he said. “Why’s that?”

  “I just said—I’m tired and I work all day on my birthday for the parade. I don’t want a birthday party. They need a mechanic to rig all those floats, you know.”

  “I didn’t know that,” he said quietly. He pulled to a stop at the sign where the ranch road met the highway. He looked at her, his face open and unassuming. “I think there’s more to that.”

  Sammy appreciated that he could sense when she wasn’t being forthcoming with him. “Heather and Patrick died in December,” she said. “My mother…disappears during that month.”

  “I see.” He made the turn. “I’m sorry, Sammy.” A few secon
ds passed, and he added, “That’s not good.”

  “No,” she agreed. “But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last five years, Bear, it’s that everyone experiences grief in different ways, at different times. It can sneak up on you like a thief in the night when you haven’t cried for months. It can come slowly or swiftly. It can look you straight in the face or hide behind you until you call it out. It’s more powerful sometimes and sometimes it just fades away.”

  The silence in the cab felt absolute, and Sammy appreciated that Bear simply absorbed it. “I understand,” he said. “My father’s been gone for a while now, and I still grieve his passing.”

  “Right,” she said with a nod. “So if Momma needs December to face her grief—or hide from it—she can have it. I’m okay.”

  He looked at her with wonder in his expression, and instead of saying anything, he reached over and took her hand in his. He drew her arm toward him and kissed the back of her hand, then her knuckles. “You’re an amazing woman, Sammy.”

  He tucked her hand in his and held it against his thigh. Sammy felt amazing in that moment, and she hadn’t felt like that in a long, long time.

  “I hope I can celebrate your birthday with you this year,” he added. “Whenever it’s convenient for you.”

  Her voice stuck somewhere in her throat, because he was the one who was amazing. Amazing and wonderful, all wrapped up in a male package that really got Sammy’s heart pumping. So maybe twelve years of age difference didn’t matter.

  As Bear turned down the road to get to his ranch, Sammy let go of some of the defenses she’d put in place to keep Bear at arm’s length. She didn’t need them anymore, because she didn’t want to keep him from getting closer to her.

  She swallowed as he parked in the driveway at the homestead and looked at him. He was calm and steady, and Sammy breathed in with him.

  “I should warn you,” he said. “My brothers are probably in the house, as well as my mother. If my friends thought me dating was a big deal, it might give my mother a heart attack.” He grinned and opened his door. “You ready for that?”

  “Giving your mother a heart attack?” Sammy repeated, partly shocked and partly laughing. “Maybe I shouldn’t go in.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t,” he mused. “You stay here, and I’ll go see what I can cobble together for lunch real quick. There’s four of you, and one of me.” He tilted his head for a moment. “I’ll be right back.”

  He left the truck running as he dashed inside, and Sammy just watched him go. He could move surprisingly well for a tall, thick man, and she sure did like that about him. A few seconds later, her phone buzzed, and Bear had said, Success. Zona made lunch.

  Nice, Sammy sent back.

  She wants to know who I’m taking lunch to before she’ll give it to me.

  Sammy tapped the camera icon next to the text box and took a quick selfie. She didn’t analyze the fact that she wasn’t wearing makeup and that she’d put her hair into a ponytail with her fingers. Show her that, she said, smiling at her device.

  The picture and text went through, and Sammy waited for Bear’s response. It didn’t come right away, and when it did, the message read, This is Arizona Glover. How in the world did my crotchety brother get a goddess like you to go out with him?

  Sammy laughed, the sound filling the whole truck. She didn’t think Arizona really needed an answer, and she didn’t have one to give her anyway. A few minutes later, Bear came storming out onto the porch, a paper grocery bag in one arm and his phone clenched in his fingers. He wore fury on his face as he came down the steps, and Sammy figured out why only seconds later.

  At least a dozen people had followed him, all of them lining up against the railing on the front porch. “Oh, my,” Sammy whispered to herself, though she found the whole thing quite comical.

  Bear opened the door by practically ripping it off the hinges. “Stupid Zona,” he muttered as he got in. He glared at the house—at all the people—but Sammy laughed again. She lifted her hand in a wave and wiggled her fingers at all of them. A few of them even waved back.

  “You’re only encouraging them,” Bear growled as he backed out of the driveway.

  Sammy just laughed again. “I should’ve just gone in,” she said. “What? Were they all just waiting for you to show up?”

  “Yes,” he said. “They ambushed me.” He glared out the windshield, and Sammy sure did like this grizzly version of the man. She liked him and all his sides a whole lot.

  She peered into the bag. “Well, you do run the whole ranch. I imagine they had some questions or reports or something. You’ve been gone for hours.” She pulled out a plastic container. “What did Arizona make for lunch? Something fit for a goddess, I presume?”

  He finally looked at her, their gazes locking. Sammy knew her grin was too big and utterly ridiculous, yet she couldn’t erase it.

  “It’s a taco bar,” he said. “Took forever to pack up.”

  She reached for his hand and settled her head back against the rest. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

  He squeezed her hand, and Sammy let herself drift as he drove them back to her house. At one point, she thought she heard him say, “You’re worth it,” but she was half-asleep and couldn’t be sure.

  Chapter Nine

  Bear stepped out onto the porch several days later, his arrival outside only minutes before the sun’s appearance on the horizon. He had to be up and ready, because all the cowboys were coming to Shiloh Ridge that day.

  He had never worked so much in his life. He’d been at Wade’s at sunup every morning for four days, and then at Brit’s every morning at first light for a few more.

  The end was nowhere in sight either, as there were still plenty of ranches to go. Everyone came, and everyone worked hard. He’d shoveled, he’d moved logs, he’d rebuilt fences, he’d wrestled with stubborn cattle, he’d roped wild horses.

  He’d swept out barns and stables, sheds and houses. He’d cleaned up broken glass, and shattered ceramic, and splintered wood. If there was something to be cleaned up, taken out, repaired, or redone, he’d done it.

  Everyone had.

  After they’d put in eight hours on the ranch of the day, he’d returned to Shiloh Ridge and worked until he felt like his back would snap in half. Between all of his siblings and cousins, they’d managed to fix the roofs on the buildings that had been damaged. They’d rebuilt all their fences and corralled all their animals. They’d found buckets and tires and shingles all over the ranch, and the pile of trash just behind the gate and sign for Shiloh Ridge grew by the hour.

  But really, all Bear needed help with was his mother’s cottage. If he could get that fixed, he could get Zona and Mother out of his house. Out of his hair. Out of his ears, constantly asking about Sammy Benton and when Bear had started seeing her.

  He’d answered all their questions anyway; he didn’t understand how they kept coming up with more.

  “There you are,” Ranger said, joining him. He handed Bear a cup of coffee that had obviously been doctored with cream. Lots of sugar too, Bear hoped.

  “Thank you,” he said to Ranger. He leaned against the railing with a sigh, took a sip of the hot liquid, and relaxed as it warmed his whole chest.

  “I’m thinkin’ I need to take those two trucks down to the dealer and trade them in,” Ranger said, referencing a couple of ranch trucks that were getting to be a few years old.

  “That’s fine,” Bear said. “If that’s what you want to do.”

  “I’ll wait until after the clean-up is done.”

  Bear nodded, because Ranger was a good man, with a good head on his shoulders. He never did anything without thinking it through, and he probably had a plan for the trade-ins already. Bear didn’t need to needle him about it.

  Ranger cleared his throat and took another drink of coffee. “I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Shoot,” Bear said, straightening and turning toward his cousin. He and Ranger had grown
up together, worked this ranch together for decades, and lived together. He was closer to Ranger than some of his brothers, and he found worry on his cousin’s face. “What’s goin’ on? Are you sick? Someone else?”

  “No,” Ranger said, shaking his head.

  “You want time off,” Bear said. Sometimes Judge turned pale when he came to ask Bear if he could take a few days off.

  “No.” Annoyance flashed in Ranger’s eyes. “I’m…how did you ask Sammy out?”

  Bear blinked, because he seriously hadn’t thought he’d have to answer any questions from Ranger. “I don’t want—”

  “I’m not teasing you,” Ranger said quietly. “I have this woman…I just don’t know how to talk to her.”

  Sudden understanding lit Bear’s mind. “Oh, I see.” He took a few steps away and sat down, his back thanking him. “Honestly? And I will kill you if you tell anyone else what I’m about to say.”

  “I won’t,” Ranger promised, taking another chair a few feet from Bear.

  He looked over the railing and out onto the ranch. He loved the windmills at Shiloh Ridge, and he was glad they’d only suffered minimal damage. “I asked Evelyn Walker for help,” Bear admitted. “She was a matchmaker once, and she used to help men and women, you know, meet.”

  “Meet?”

  “Yeah,” Bear said. “Put them together in the same place. Whoever had hired her would get information about the person they were meeting, so they’d you know, show up wherever that person was with their favorite doughnut or whatever.”

  “Is that what you did? Show up with Sammy’s favorite doughnut?”

  “Not quite,” Bear said with a chuckle. “Evelyn did call me when Sammy was at her sister’s though. I went racing down there with some excuse about needing to see the bookshelves in the shed where Sammy was.” He shook his head, thinking about the way he’d thrown her tools all over the place. “I made a huge fool of myself, that’s what I did.”

  Ranger seemed to want to make a fool of himself too, and Bear quickly told the story about staying until Sammy had left and asking her out then. He conveniently left out the part where the actual date had been a complete, awkward disaster.