Christmas with the Cowboy

by Tina Radcliffe

  For a moment Zach found himself jealous of the memories between Emma and Steve.

  “But, I can tell you, the man didn’t have a lick of common sense,” Emma said. She chuckled. “It was a standing joke between us. He could explain things I didn’t even understand in his computer techy lingo and then forget to take out the trash.”

  Zach smiled. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

  “What? I loved Steve, but he certainly wasn’t perfect.”

  “I figured you thought he was.”

  She stared him down. “No, Zach, you’re the one who put him on a pedestal.”

  He considered her words.

  “Did I?”

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  Had he put the distance between his brother and himself? The thought was sobering at best. At worst, a revelation that he’d wasted a lot of time owning emotions he shouldn’t have.

  “Do you ever visit your father’s ranch?” Emma asked. “Relive all those memories from when we were kids?”

  “That’s a whole other topic, and I wouldn’t call it reliving memories. More like revisiting the scene of the crime.”

  She looked at him. “No good memories?”

  “I’m still sorting through things.”

  “Why didn’t you stay and take over your dad’s ranch? Steve wasn’t interested, but you were born a cowboy.”

  “I learned long ago that it was best for everyone if I stayed away.” Zach glanced up at the sky when the sound of a hawk circling interrupted his musings. “Getting late,” he said. “We better head back.” He nudged Zeus forward and away from the discussion.

  “Sure.” Emma grabbed Rodeo’s reins and mounted.

  “Thanks for riding with me, Em,” he murmured.

  “I should be thanking you,” she said. “I needed this break as much as you did.”

  Yeah, maybe he did need it. He’d only meant to exercise Zeus and catch fresh air. Instead, he’d taken a ride to his past and maybe started to clear out the cobwebs so he could think about the present. Maybe even the future.

  Chapter Seven

  “Emma, I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” Zach said. His voice sounded hollow and dull to his own ears. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand while he stared at the modest farmhouse in front of them and willed his pulse to slow.

  “Zach, you’re parked in their driveway and they’re peeking out of the front window at us. You can’t turn around now.”

  “Sure I can.” He nodded firmly. “Absolutely, I can.”

  Train in advance. Prepare in advance. He was failing on all fronts. His mental preparedness for surviving and enduring any life-threatening situation went down the tubes the minute they pulled into the Clarks’ gravel drive.

  “The twins will provide a buffer,” Emma said. “Everyone likes babies.”

  Terrific, now he was hiding behind toddlers.

  When Emma placed her small hand over his, he held his breath but didn’t answer.

  She gently pried his fingers free from the steering wheel. “We’ve got this, Zach.”

  His lip curled in what started as a smile and ended up as a snarl. It didn’t escape him that he was a former navy SEAL being comforted by a petite cowgirl. He could chalk today up to a good initiative but bad judgment. His own doing.

  It was time to face the sad reality that today was the day he’d been dreading.

  Man up, pal, he told himself.

  Zach glanced into the back seat. “The girls are asleep.”

  “And they’ll stay that way if we’re very careful. The church nursery followed by lunch always conks them out. Plus, Pastor Parr was a bit long-winded today.” She nodded toward the house. “You bring in their play yard and they’ll probably sleep through the entire visit.”

  Zach eased out of the truck and stretched his legs. He moved through Emma’s instructions by rote and walked up to the front door with the twins’ gear in one hand and a shopping bag with items for the Clarks in the other.

  For a few moments, he stood on the threshold looking around the welcoming yard. This was Ian’s house.

  Ian, who would never come home again.

  Zach had been hospitalized during Ian’s memorial service. Never gave his buddy a proper goodbye.

  A wave of emotion gripped him like a vise. It was Steve’s funeral all over again.

  Zach raised his head. Except, maybe this time he could ease someone else’s pain. He wouldn’t let the Clarks down like he’d let Emma and the twins down.

  He rang the bell.

  Ten minutes after being ushered into the house by Mary and Joe Clark, he realized Emma was right. Again. The Clarks were thrilled to have children, sleeping or awake, in their farmhouse. The mood in the home was nothing short of joyous as Ian’s parents stood over the play yard admiring the sleeping toddlers.

  “We don’t have any grands to fuss over. This is a real treat,” Mary Clark said. “And it sure doesn’t hurt that they’re simply adorable times two.”

  Joe Clark stood behind his wife with his hands on her shoulders, peering down at the twins. “Can’t hardly remember when Ian was that small. We had him sort of late in life.”

  Mary laughed and patted her husband’s hand. “What Joseph means is that Ian was a complete surprise. A blessing, but we were gobsmacked when we found out.”

  Zach smiled at the couple. After forty-seven years together, they sort of looked alike. Of sturdy build, they both had curly gray hair and weathered faces from good honest work. They were people of the land, Godly folks.

  People who believed marriages lasted forever.

  “Come and sit down in the kitchen,” Mary said. “Now, how is it you two are related?”

  “Emma married my half brother. We lost him three years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Mary clucked her tongue. “But I can see now why those babies look so much like Zach here.” She smiled. “And you’re so good with them for a single fella.”

  “The girls only have eyes for their Uncle Zach when he’s around,” Emma said.

  “That might be a slight exaggeration,” he mumbled.

  “Emma Maxwell Norman. Now, why does the name Maxwell sound so familiar?” Mary asked as she put a tray of coffee and cake on the big farmhouse kitchen table and began to serve them.

  “My family runs Big Heart Ranch in Timber.”

  “That’s you? The children’s ranch we’ve heard so much about?”

  Emma nodded.

  “What a beautiful ministry, Emma,” Mary said. She carefully cut the cake and placed generous slices on mismatched china dessert plates, then nodded to her husband. “Pass this to our guests, dear.”

  “What kind of cake is this?” Emma asked.

  “My special hummingbird cake.” Mary smiled. “Guaranteed the best cake you’ve ever eaten.”

  “Hummingbird?”

  “Sweet enough to attract hummingbirds, they say.”

  “Try it,” Zach said. “Mary brought one to Ian when they visited California. I bought a couple pieces from him.”

  Mary burst out laughing. “That rapscallion. He sold my cake?”

  “Yes, ma’am, and it was worth every penny.”

  “That’s our Ian,” Mary said. “Never missed an opportunity.”

  “Mary, doesn’t the pastor send donations to Big Heart Ranch?” Joe Clark asked as he stirred sugar into his coffee cup.

  “Pastor Cleveland?” Emma asked.

  “Yes,” Mary said with a nod. She slid a plate to her husband and sat down next to Emma.

  “He helps us with the summer program every year. We certainly appreciate that.”

  When Emma paused and shot a speculative glance at Zach, he frowned at the expression on her face. What was she up to?

  “Have you been to the ra
nch?” Emma asked the couple.

  “Oh, no. I didn’t think you allowed visitors,” Mary said.

  “A few times a year we’re open to the public. The summer rodeo and our Holiday Roundup.”

  “That’s coming up then,” Joe said.

  “Yes. The Holiday Roundup opens next Friday.” Emma’s eyes sparkled with contained excitement at the mention of her favorite subject. “What are you two doing for Thanksgiving?”

  “Oh, it’s just us and the cats,” Mary said. “Most years Ian was out of the country. We got used to that.”

  “Will you join us at the ranch for Thanksgiving dinner?” Emma asked.

  “On such short notice? That would be a terrible inconvenience for you.”

  “Not at all. My family and some of our staff all celebrate the holiday with dinner in the ranch chow hall. We don’t take a head count. The day is purely potluck. Our equine manager, Tripp, brings the turkey and everyone else brings their personal specialties. It’s a simple down-home meal.”

  Zach observed the exchange in awe. In a short period of time, Emma had warmed the Clarks’ hearts and made friends.

  Mary turned to her husband. “What do you say, Joseph?”

  He narrowed his eyes in thought before he finally spoke. “Will there be pie?”

  “Much too much pie, I’m afraid,” Emma said with a slow shake of her head.

  Joe Clark grinned. “That’s the ticket. Save us a seat at the table.”

  Emma clapped her hands. “Wonderful. We turn the Holiday Roundup Christmas lights on after dinner. You’ll get a preview before we open to the public.”

  “Well, I never. I feel like we’re VIPs,” Mary said.

  “And you are.”

  Zach stared dumbfound. Was there anyone or any situation she couldn’t finesse? The woman had a gift. She made everyone feel special, and it came from her heart. He could probably take a lesson from Emma.

  For minutes, he sat silently enjoying the conversation and the reprieve. When the chatter lagged, he cleared his throat, pushed back his cake plate and coffee cup and looked to Ian’s parents, knowing it was time to do what he came here for.

  “Um, Mary. Joe. I brought you a few things,” Zach said.

  “I should wait in the truck,” Emma said. Her eyes flitted to Zach, concern in the warm depths.

  Zach put his hand on her arm as she began to stand.

  “If Joe and Mary don’t mind, I’d like you to stay, Emma.” Zach swallowed. He wanted... No, he needed Emma to at very least understand the last twelve months of his life.

  “If that’s what you want, Zach,” Mary said.

  He nodded, opened the bag he brought with him and took out a sweatshirt and a worn silver cross on a heavy silver chain. “These were Ian’s. He left them at my apartment when we did an Ironman event last winter.”

  Mary carefully took the sweatshirt and held the fabric to her face. She closed her eyes and inhaled, offering a bittersweet smile. “Smells like my Ian.” With the back of her hand, she swiped at the moisture in her eyes. “Oh, Zach, thank you.”

  Joe Clark fingered the simple cross, his calloused fingers rubbing back and forth over the smooth surface.

  “You need to know that Ian remained the pure-hearted man you raised him to be. He loved God and his country and both of you.” Zach paused to swallow back emotion. “Every chance he got, he talked about the farm and his parents.”

  Mary turned to her husband and took his hand.

  “I know you received the official report, and the navy presented you with the Navy Cross in his honor, but you need to hear it from me...

  “That day...” Zach paused yet again. Though he’d practiced over and over again, and prayed about this moment, the words stuck in his throat. “That day, Ian never hesitated for a moment. He gave his life for his teammates.

  “I tried to get to Ian, but an explosion... A cement block landed on my knee. I couldn’t get out of the rubble in time to reach him.” Chest tight, Zach closed his eyes for a moment and then glanced away. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh, Zach,” Mary said. She stood, walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. It took everything in him not to break down and blubber like a baby.

  “That’s why you’re limping,” Joe observed.

  Zach nodded. “Yeah. I’m a civilian now.”

  “I’m sorry, son.”

  “Today isn’t about me,” Zach murmured. He handed Mary a flat white box. “I brought you something else. Emma helped me put this together.”

  Mary Clark’s blunt fingers trembled as she opened the box and unfolded the tissue to reveal the silver frame with a picture of Zach and Ian in uniform, arms looped around each other. Joseph leaned close to peer at the photo. This time, it was Ian’s father who took a deep breath and passed a hand over his eyes.

  “Thank you so much, son,” he said.

  “This means everything to us, Zach,” Mary said. “To see him happy doing what he loved. What the good Lord called Ian to do.”

  Zach pondered Mary’s words for moments. What the good Lord called him to do. His gaze fell on Emma and his heart ached for all the times he had failed her and the twins.

  It was a moment of stark conviction and self-examination.

  When Zach and Emma and the girls were settled back in the cab of the truck, he leaned against the headrest and closed his eyes for a moment.

  “I’m so sorry for all you had to go through, Zach,” Emma whispered. “I didn’t realize how difficult the last year has been. I shouldn’t have gotten on your case when you arrived at the ranch.”

  “I don’t matter. Those folks—they’re the ones who gave all.”

  A long silence stretched between them. The only sound was Rachel and Elizabeth murmuring in the back seat.

  “Emma, that was really generous of you back there, inviting them to the ranch,” Zach finally said.

  “Generous? I’m sharing all that God has freely given Big Heart Ranch. That’s a gift that has nothing to do with me.”

  He reached across the truck, pushed her hair back and pressed his lips to her forehead. Emma’s eyes rounded wide. “You’re a good woman, Emma. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and the girls. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  A cool autumn breeze, bringing the scent of crushed leaves and sweet-mulched earth, whispered as it passed through the open window of the truck. Zach started the engine. In that moment, he began to understand why the Lord had sent him to Big Heart Ranch. His duty was no longer to his country, but it was to Emma and his brother’s children. How he’d fulfill that duty when his plans had him leaving in a few short weeks was the puzzle he’d need to figure out.

  * * *

  Emma parked the ute and got out. She pulled the keys from the little utility vehicle and turned around, her gaze taking in the pretty lights on the gazebo. Zach certainly had done a nice job. Green garland was draped in elegant loops along the top, and a huge wreath with a red bow hung from the front of the roof.

  Hmm. Mick said Zach was here, but she didn’t see any sign of him except a toolbox and a ladder. “Hello?” she called.

  “Up here.”

  She craned her neck and spotted Zach wedged between the rafters of the gazebo. “What are you doing?”

  “What’s it look like I’m doing?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “There are some broken boards in the ceiling. I noticed them when we hung that big wreath from the roof.”

  “Why didn’t you mention this when we talked?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Well, then. Thank you.”

  “It’s my job. I’m on Team Emma.”

  “Team Emma.” She sighed, then sat down on the steps and pulled her hoodie close around her. There was a definite nip in the air today. Fall was fast
becoming winter.

  “Why are you here?” he asked.

  “I need a favor. Team Emma is having problems.”

  “Uh-oh. I’ll be right down.”

  “No. It can wait. I don’t want to interrupt you.”

  “Stay right there. I’m coming down.”

  “Please, be careful.”

  His foot hit the last step and sounded with a thud on the floor of the gazebo. Zach met her gaze through the rungs of the ladder. “I’m trained to be careful.”

  He dropped a hammer into a toolbox and removed his tool belt, then eased down to the gazebo steps next to her, his left leg stretched out.

  The plaid flannel shirt he wore over a navy T-shirt was a very good look. If she was noticing. She tried not to.

  Zach smelled of shaved wood and hard work. Not an unappealing scent, either. Emma inched away. After yesterday, she was even more unsettled about their relationship. He’d shared more in the last few days than he had in all the years she’d known him, even when they were kids. Yesterday was especially telling and confusing.

  Her bitterness about his not keeping in touch was fading as she realized all he’d been through in the last twelve months.

  “Shoot,” Zach said.

  “Huh?” She raised her head.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. Of course. Lots on my mind.”

  “You needed a favor?” He said the words slowly.

  “Oh, yes. That’s right. Feel free to say no,” she began.

  “I always feel free to say no.”

  “The manger and stall for the live nativity are in pieces. They simply fell apart during rehearsal this morning. Apparently, they had been stored in the supply barn loft last year and the roof leaked. The whole thing is a mess of rotting wood. We set it up and it promptly collapsed. The three wise men have splinters in untoward places.”

  Zach slapped his thigh and started laughing.

  “The live nativity is really not a laughing matter.”

  He cleared his throat. “You want me to build a new stall and manger before next Thursday?”