A Rancher for Christmas

by Brenda Minton

Breezy opened her eyes and looked up at him. “But he didn’t. Or if he did, he wasn’t interested in shooting me. He’s looking for something.”

  “Right, and he was willing to slam you against a wall.”

  “Jake, I’m fine.”

  As she said the words she knew that she wasn’t fine. Not really. Maybe she would be physically, but emotionally she knew she had a real problem. For the first time in her life, she wanted to be taken care of. She wanted to be protected by this man, held in his arms.

  And that scared her. More than the intruder ever had.

  * * *

  The deputies finished their investigating and told Jake that unfortunately they couldn’t find much to go on. He walked them out, then returned to the living room, where a medic from the local first-responder unit was examining Breezy. He’d insisted it was either the local guys or he would take her to Austin.

  Duke had left. Jake thought it would be a good idea for one of them to be at the Circle M, just in case their prowler thought he might find what he was looking for in Jake’s office.

  “How is she?” Jake asked the medic as he sat down on the edge of a chair. Breezy touched the knot on her head, wincing. He guessed that was his answer.

  The medic, a guy who had been in Afghanistan twice in the past few years, gave her one last look. “I think she’s okay. She said she never lost consciousness. I do think it would be a good idea for her to stay awake for several hours. If the headache changes, speech slurs, you know the symptoms to watch for.”

  Jake did know the symptoms. Brody had been riding bulls for ten years. They were concussion experts.

  “We can handle it. She’ll be at my house where Marty and I can keep an eye on her.”

  “I can stay here!”

  “Of course you would argue.” He leaned back, watching as the medic packed up his stuff. Boone was a good guy. He’d grown up on a ranch outside of town, and his folks had gone through some tough times.

  “Ma’am, no arguing with this,” Boone said. “You really have to be with people tonight. And you have no idea who this guy is and if he’ll come back.”

  She looked around the house, now lit with overhead lighting. Jake watched as her gaze landed on the nativity she’d put on the mantel and then the tree. He’d told her to make this house her own, add her stuff. And she had.

  He thought he understood her reluctance. “It’s a day, two at the most, Breezy.”

  She nodded and moved to the edge of the sofa. “I need to pack a bag.”

  “I can help,” he offered.

  A smile broke across her face. “No, you can’t. But thank you.”

  A few minutes later, they were heading down the road to the Circle M. He shot a cautious look at the woman in the truck next to him. The light was dim and he couldn’t make out her expression, but he heard her weary sigh, saw her lean a little toward the window as she clutched her overnight bag in her lap.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m good. I just thought it would be different here. It isn’t supposed to be like this.”

  “Care to share?”

  She shook her head. “No, not really.”

  He pulled up to his house, easing the truck into the garage. Duke’s truck was parked out front in the circle drive. He had caught sight of his brother sitting on the front porch in the cold. Jake guessed he wasn’t the only one with the burden of needing to protect.

  They walked in through the garage door that led through a utility room, a breakfast room and then the kitchen. The giant-size kitchen that the woman who had agreed to marry him insisted she would need. Only she hadn’t really wanted a kitchen in a ranch house in Texas Hill Country. She was now married to a doctor in Austin. Jake hadn’t quite met her standards.

  The same way his dad hadn’t met Sylvia’s standards. She’d wanted to be a socialite, not a rancher’s wife.

  He shrugged it off. “Want a cup of coffee? I can plug in the Keurig.”

  She sat down on a bar stool, dropping her bag on the floor next to her. “Sure, if I have to stay awake, I might as well have coffee.”

  The machine was already plugged in and the water reservoir filled. Marty must have anticipated they’d need it. From the living room he heard the door click and then the alarm system computer voice said, “Alarm activated.”

  Duke walked into the room a few minutes later. “Coffee?”

  “Yes. I guess you want a cup.” Jake pulled three cups out of the cabinet.

  “Might as well if we’re going to be up all night.”

  Breezy spun on the chair to face him. “You don’t have to stay up. I’m really okay.”

  Duke took off his hat and tossed it on the counter. “Listen, sis, none of us is going anywhere. That’s how we Martins roll. We stick together.”

  “I’m not a...”

  He patted her hand, silencing her. “Yeah, you’re one of us. So relax. Let Jake take care of you or he’ll break out in hives.”

  “Jake has enough on his plate without the burden of me. I don’t think that’s my reason for being in Martin’s Crossing.”

  “Oh, I think it is.” Duke headed around the counter to make his own cup of coffee. Jake shot him a lethal glare.

  “What’s going on?”

  Jake pushed a cup under the spout of the Keurig. “Nothing. How do you like your coffee?”

  “Since I don’t drink coffee, I’ll take it however you think is best.”

  “Cream and sugar,” Duke offered. Jake shot him another look. “What did I do now? You know, I think I’ll head to the living room and put my feet up.”

  “Good idea.” Jake spooned sugar into the cup and added cream. He set it in front of Breezy. She rested her elbows on the counter and laced her fingers together to rest her chin on her hands. He thought she looked done in, and guessed by morning they’d all look a little worse for wear.

  “Thank you.” She pulled the coffee to her and raised it to take a sip. Her eyes closed and she sighed. “Why haven’t I ever been a coffee drinker?”

  “Maybe you haven’t had the right coffee?”

  “Could be.”

  Jake made his coffee and sat down next to her. “Breezy, what happened?”

  “A guy broke into my house.”

  He sighed and placed a hand over hers. “In California. On the streets.”

  “Oh, that.”

  Pain flashed across her features. Sadness and anger followed.

  “Yeah, that. You said you thought it would be different here. I want to make sure it’s different.”

  He wanted to give her a home that no one took from her, a place filled with family and friends. He couldn’t stop thinking about the sister they’d taken her away from. Or Lawton had taken her from. He knew she’d wanted to stay in Oklahoma and build that relationship.

  “You’re very sweet, Jake.” She moved her hand, turning it so that their hands were palm to palm, and then she laced her fingers through his and brought his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles.

  “And you won’t tell me?”

  She shrugged slim shoulders beneath the sweatshirt she’d changed into before leaving. “There isn’t a lot to tell. We moved from town to town. My social life was rather nonexistent. It wasn’t as if I dated, went to a prom or hung out with friends. And there were times along the way that men thought, because of our situation, that I, that I...”

  He wouldn’t make her say it. “You deserve better.”

  She released his hand. “Most people do. I’m really okay, Jake. Tonight took me by surprise, that’s all.”

  “I think it took us all by surprise. In a day or two, as soon as I know we’re safe here, I’m going to take a trip to Austin and talk to some of the employees at Lawton’s company.”

  “Should I go? I m
ean, what if it’s one of them and I need to identify someone?”

  “I think we’ll know him by his broken nose.”

  She laughed the slightest bit and then they finished their coffee in silence.

  Sometime close to dawn he allowed her to go to sleep. She curled up on the sofa and in minutes she was out. Jake watched her as she succumbed to sleep and then he stood to leave. He had chores that wouldn’t wait. Marty was standing in the doorway. She didn’t say anything. Better for him to pretend she hadn’t been watching with those eagle eyes of hers.

  “I’m going to get some work done, and make sure the guys know what needs to be done today.” He marched toward the back of the house.

  “Is that all you’re going to say?”

  “Nothing else to say.” He grabbed his jacket off the hook by the back door. “And I already know you want to say something. Please don’t.”

  He was thirty-four years old. He didn’t need to have his housekeeper tell him what he was feeling.

  If she didn’t say anything, he could keep telling himself that Breezy was one more person he needed to take care of and nothing more. Then he wouldn’t have to admit to himself that he wanted to take care of her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Breezy somehow slept for hours on the sofa in Jake’s living room. She slept through the twins poking at her face, Duke arguing with Brody and Jake going to town to order grain. She knew all of this because Marty told her.

  The two of them were in the kitchen going through recipes when Jake walked through the back door. She looked up from the notebook she was using to copy recipes and made cautious eye contact with the man walking through the kitchen. His mouth eased into a smile.

  Marty cleared her throat and pushed an index card across the counter. “What about this one for gumbo?”

  Breezy looked at the recipe. “Sounds great. Have you made it?”

  Marty nodded and looked a little teary. “I used to make it twice a month on Fridays. Earl and I would have friends over for dinner to play games and I’d make the gumbo. One of our friends would bake bread. Those were wonderful times.”

  “Then I definitely want this recipe.”

  “And here’s one for pizza crust that’s so easy.” Marty pushed that card to her, as well.

  “Thank you. This means so much to me, Marty.”

  “I’m glad to do it. We never had children so it means a lot to me that someone will be using these and passing them down.”

  Breezy glanced over her shoulder to check on the twins. They were being very quiet. They had plastic bowls, lids and spoons that Marty had given them to play with. Sometimes the bowls were musical instruments, sometimes they pretended to cook.

  Violet turned a bowl over and pounded on it and Rosie tried to take the spoon. A squabble ensued. Breezy started to hop down off the stool but Marty put a hand on her arm, stopping her.

  “Give them a minute. They aren’t pulling hair or biting, so they might work it out,” the older woman advised.

  It wasn’t easy to sit back and watch. But eventually Rosie gave up on the spoon. Big tears welled in her blue eyes and she stood and toddled to Breezy. As Breezy reached to pick her up, Rosie sobbed a little. “Mama.”

  Breezy held the child close, patting her back. “Aunt Breezy, honey.”

  Marty shook her head. “Mama is who you are, Breezy.”

  “No, they have, they...” She buried her face in Rosie’s dark hair, inhaling the lavender and chamomile scent of her baby shampoo.

  Marty rubbed Breezy’s back much the way she rubbed Rosie’s. “They have you. They have Jake and of course they have all of us.”

  “I don’t know how to do this, Marty. I’m not prepared.”

  “You’re doing it, though. Maybe you weren’t prepared. We hardly ever are prepared for life’s challenges. But we manage. I think if we knew the challenges were coming, instead of taking them on, we’d run.”

  Violet had pushed aside her bowl and spoon and joined them. Marty pulled her to her lap. That’s how Jake found the four of them. Breezy wiped her eyes with her hand as he walked back into the room, his expression puzzled.

  “From recipes to tears. What are you two doing?”

  Breezy chuckled a little, the sound mixing with a sob. “We just had a moment.”

  Marty pointed at Breezy. “Mama.”

  Jake’s smile faded. Breezy wanted to say something, to stop him from walking away. She didn’t want to take his sister’s place, to replace her.

  “Jake,” Marty called to him as he walked away.

  “Just give me a minute,” he called back.

  “I should say something.” Breezy started to get up. Again, Marty stopped her.

  “One thing you learn is that when a Martin says he needs a minute, you give him a minute. He and Elizabeth were close, Breezy. They practically raised this family. They cooked. They kept things clean. They kept their dad functioning and sometimes kept him off the drink. Losing Elizabeth was like losing a part of himself.”

  He took care of everyone else. So who took care of Jake?

  She heard the front door close.

  Marty took Rosie from her. “You go. I’ve got these two. He’ll be in the barn. But don’t be surprised if he runs you off.”

  “I’m not easily frightened.”

  Marty grinned at that. “And that’s why he needs you.”

  Jake needed her. She shook her head at the thought. Jake didn’t seem to need anyone. But something small inside her had ignited and she wanted to be the person he needed, the person who was there for him.

  She hurried out the back door, grabbing her coat as she went. She hadn’t been to the barns on the Circle M. There were several. There was an old barn in the field behind the house. It was wood-sided, gray and weathered with a new metal roof and obvious repairs. To the west of the house was a metal structure. It housed equipment and hay. And then there was a metal building with wide doors that pushed open and a standard door to the side of that. Horses grazed in the field to the right of the barn. In the distance a tractor hauled a big round bale of hay to cattle. She picked this as the right barn.

  She didn’t know what she would say to Jake but she knew that it was time he let someone be there for him.

  The barn was lit with overhead lights down the center of the tall ceiling. On one side were half a dozen stalls. On the side were various doors. She called out for Jake but he didn’t answer. She knocked on the first door and got no reply. She opened the door to find a feed room and tack room. The next room held trophies and saddles.

  And then she heard a pounding sound and the sound of feet scuffing the earth. She started to knock on the door but knew he wouldn’t answer. She turned the knob and opened the door slowly, peeking in as she did.

  Jake stood in the center of the room. No, he wasn’t standing. He was boxing. The room was a gym. There were weights, a treadmill, a television, chairs and the boxing bag on a stand in the center of the room. He jabbed at it, letting it come back to him and then jabbing again. As she watched, he went at it, pounding hard with both fists.

  He was breathing heavily and in the noise she heard his sobs. She should go, let him grieve in piece. But how could she walk away? How could she let this be one more thing that Jake Martin seemed to do on his own?

  As she stood in the doorway contemplating her next move, he spotted her and shook his head.

  “Go away,” he said in a quiet voice that rumbled like thunder through a stormy night.

  She shook her head. He was stubborn. She could show him she was just as stubborn, if not more so. He needed her, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Maybe that’s what had brought the two of them together.

  Maybe God had known she needed a place of her own and He’d known that Jake Martin needed someone st
rong enough to stand toe to toe with him, strong enough to be there for him.

  He reached for a towel, wiping it across his face before wrapping it around his neck. She closed the distance between them. As she reached for him, he pulled her hard against him, holding her tight.

  * * *

  Jake hadn’t expected her. He hadn’t expected her to search him out. He hadn’t expected to need her. He’d come to the barn thinking he’d do what he always did. He’d box. Maybe he’d go for a ride. He’d think, figure it out, move on. But the pain had followed him, pounding against him as he’d pounded that punching bag.

  It was relentless, wave after wave of grief.

  Breezy’s arms were around him as he held her tight against him, soaking up the comfort in her embrace, in the words she whispered. He didn’t really hear them, but they were there, pouring over him like summer rain.

  He pulled her head to his shoulder and kissed her brow. Man, he needed this woman. For how long, though? How long would she be here, soaking up his pain, his grief? How long would she be here to make him smile when only weeks ago he’d wondered if any of them would ever be happy again?

  “You can lean on people, Jake.” The words were muffled against his shoulder, her warm breath permeating his shirt. He stroked his hand down the softness of her hair, thinking through the words that she spoke as if they made perfect sense.

  What did he say to that? How did he lean on people? If he leaned on someone, how did he stay strong? He hadn’t leaned on anyone since...never? Maybe he’d leaned on Elizabeth. Sometimes, every now and then, he leaned on Duke. But Duke joined the army at twenty-one and for eight years he’d been gone.

  A long time ago, the day their mother left, Jake tried to lean on his dad. But Gabe Martin had pushed him away, told him to figure out how to turn on the oven if they were hungry. If they were out of groceries, he told him to drive to town but don’t get caught.

  Elizabeth had been a mess, the same age as him but needing a mom. Duke had been angry and had rode off on his horse. Brody had been about four and still trying to run from the house to chase Sylvia down. Samantha had been little more than a baby.