Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Her Holiday FamilySugar Plum SeasonHer Cowboy HeroSmall-Town Fireman

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Tanner stood by the door, Sugar there beside him, tail wagging with expectation as Tanner lowered the door shut behind her. She opened the door and leaned out.

  “You may as well come in the cab with me,” Keira called out above the wind, squinting toward Tanner.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. It’s getting colder all the time and those boots aren’t exactly made for this snow,” she said, pointing to the cowboy boots he still wore.

  Tanner looked as though he were about to protest again.

  “I’ll even let you drive,” she said, forcing a grin.

  His returning smile was just as forced. Not hard to see he was as uncomfortable around her as she was around him. They would just have to make the best of a bad situation, she thought as he clambered up the metal steps into the tractor. Because from the way the snow was coming down, that situation wasn’t changing in the next day or so.

  She got out of the seat and wedged herself in the cramped space behind it, hanging on to a handle built into the wall. The cab wasn’t small but as soon as Tanner stepped inside, it became suddenly cramped and tight.

  He closed the door, put the tractor into gear and slowly backed away.

  “The throttle sticks sometimes,” Keira said above the roar of the engine, shifting her weight as Tanner engaged the gears. He pressed down, the tractor jerked and she fell forward.

  Her hand automatically came up, catching his shoulder to steady herself. A casual gesture. Something she had done numerous times when she had ridden with him.

  It was the solidity of him that made her heart falter. The reality of her hand resting on Tanner’s shoulder. Something she hadn’t done in many, many years. Something that was so ordinary and now, so foreign.

  She snatched her hand back, wishing she could still the sudden racing of her heart.

  Tanner didn’t even look back. Thankfully he hadn’t seemed to notice or he was just ignoring her. She took a deep breath, dismissing her reaction.

  The tractor churned through the snow and headed toward the piled-up hay bales. Tanner easily picked up two bales, nudging them with forks to get the snow off. Keira climbed out of the tractor to open the gate, then got back in after he drove through. The cows, alerted by the noise of the tractor, were already gathered around the feeder. Tanner inched past them, dumped the bales, but just before he got out of the cab of the tractor, he leaned sideways and fished a jackknife out of the pocket of his blue jeans.

  Keira’s heart jumped as she recognized the wooden handle and the engraving on it.

  To Tanner. From Keira.

  He caught her looking at the knife and flipped it around. “It’s a good knife,” he said, his words almost lost in the bawling of the cows and the rumble of the tractor engine.

  “Lee helped me pick it out,” she said, her mind racing back to that much happier time in her and Lee’s life. Before the car accident that put her brother in jail, and before she and Tanner started fighting about his constant rodeoing over the summer.

  “Yeah, well. It holds an edge better than any of the other knives I ever had. Be a shame to throw it away.”

  His dismissive tone pushed down the faint hopes the sight of the knife kindled in her soul. Why had she allowed herself to feel even the slightest bit of hope? She was a fool. Tanner wasn’t the man she had once dated, nor was she the woman he was once engaged to. Time and experience had hardened both of them.

  Then he opened the door of the tractor and all conversation was lost.

  But as they scrambled over the bales in the feeder, each flick of his jackknife was like a pinprick to her soul.

  Chapter Five

  “Again, thanks for dinner,” Tanner said as he wiped his mouth. “It was delicious, Alice.”

  His stepmother gave him a polite smile and nod of acknowledgment across the long, wide table of the Bannisters’ dining room. He knew she would have preferred he address her as Mother, but his own father had, for reasons only known to him, encouraged Tanner to call her Alice. And he always had.

  The lights above the table flickered, a reminder of the storm still howling outside. Inside, however, a fire crackled in the woodstove, exuding warmth and comfort.

  “I’ve always loved your mother’s chicken, Tanner,” Ellen said carefully as she placed extra emphasis on the word mother.

  Bless her heart, Ellen had always encouraged him to call Alice, Mother. But the habit was hard to break and, as her favoritism toward David became more obvious with each passing year, it seemed hypocritical. Alice put up with Tanner but never truly considered him her son.

  “I actually got the recipe from you, Keira.” Alice glanced at Keira, her smile holding a hint of sorrow. “I remember David coming home from having supper here and raving about this amazing chicken recipe that you had made.”

  Keira’s only response was a polite smile. Tanner rubbed his fingers over his temples, wishing this tension would go away. He was probably stuck here another couple of days, he just had to find a way to deal with it.

  He’d called the shop in Sheridan to tell the guys the news, only to find out that the big job they thought they had gotten had been cancelled. Right now, stuck out here, it seemed a blessing. It meant that he wasn’t immediately needed back there.

  His gaze drifted over to Keira, who was carefully scooping another spoonful of mashed potatoes for Adana. The little girl was leaning forward in anticipation of the next bite.

  “She’s a good eater,” Ellen said.

  “I’m surprised,” Tanner said. “That hay we fed the cows this afternoon looks more appealing than that stuff.”

  “Thanks so much for helping Keira with the cows,” Ellen said with a bright smile. “I’m sure the job went a lot faster with the two of you working together.”

  “Like old times,” Tanner said dryly.

  “And you even got some work done in the shop?” Ellen asked Keira, pushing past the awkwardness that hung like a cloud over the table.

  “Not as much as I’d hoped, but if work goes well I should have all my orders done by tomorrow,” Keira said.

  “Did you get some more work done on David’s saddle?” Alice asked.

  “No. I...I was thinking I might work on it tonight.”

  “Don’t do that—”

  “No. You can’t—”

  Tanner and Ellen spoke at the same time, then Ellen held up her hand. “Sorry, Tanner, you were saying?”

  “I was just thinking that the storm is still blowing hard. Maybe not such a good idea to go out in the dark.”

  “I can find my way to the shop,” Keira replied to Tanner, but she was looking at her mother.

  “Will you be able to get the saddle done on time if you don’t work on it tonight?” Alice asked.

  Tanner wished she would stop putting extra pressure on Keira, though he knew he was just as guilty. He wanted the saddle done, as well, but not if it meant Keira had to go out in a howling storm after sunset. Montana’s history was littered with stories of ranchers heading out to their barns in such storms and losing their way back to their houses less than a hundred feet away.

  “I’ll have time tomorrow. We probably don’t have to feed the cows,” Keira said, still not looking at either him or Alice.

  “I remember how proud David was of that saddle,” Alice said. “He always told me that he sat better on the horse knowing he was using a saddle from one of the best saddle makers in the business. Of course, as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter what you’re sitting on when you’re on a huge, out of control bronc.” She added a light laugh and was joined by Ellen.

  “I’m sure you know how that goes,” Ellen said to Tanner, pulling him into the conversation.

  “I do,” he said. “I’ve drawn some tough horses. So did David. We were always compet
ing, though.”

  Alice gave him a careful smile. “But David always looked up to you, you know.”

  Tanner wasn’t sure about that, but he let it go. “I still catch myself looking up from the chute, expecting to see him there, helping me get ready,” Tanner said.

  He caught Alice’s warm gaze, realizing that he had said exactly the right thing. Inspired by the benevolence he caught in her eyes, he launched into a story about a particularly good run he and David had had at a rodeo at Fort Worth. They had both finished high up in the standings.

  “That was a good week,” Tanner said with a pensive tone. “I miss him. A lot. There’s not much a person can count on in this world, but I could always count on David.”

  Keira stood suddenly, plucking Adana from her chair. “I should give this little munchkin a bath,” she said, then without a backward glance, left the room.

  Tanner frowned at her unexpected departure, wondering what had triggered it.

  Probably my continuing presence, he thought, standing up himself.

  “May as well get these dishes cleared off,” he said, stacking the plates. Alice joined him, telling Ellen to go sit in the living room.

  But while he and Alice were working, he could hear Keira in the bathroom, talking with Adana, singing to her, laughing. The complete opposite of the woman who had sat in stony silence across the table from him.

  Lord, how did we end up here? he prayed as he rinsed and sorted dishes. How am I going to get through the next few days?

  He didn’t get an answer, but he hadn’t really been expecting one. It was simply the cry of his lonely heart.

  At least he and Alice seemed to be on better terms. As they did the dishes, they chatted and shared stories about David, which seemed to bring them closer. At least that was one positive result from being stranded on the ranch.

  When they were done, he and Alice joined Keira and Ellen in the living room. He started when he saw Keira with Adana on her lap, turning pages of a worn board book. Keira was reading quietly, her voice animated. Tanner watched her, so relaxed with that little girl. So natural.

  She would make a good mother.

  The thought caught him short. If things had gone the way he’d planned, he and Keira would have had a few children by now.

  He shook the thought off, jumped to his feet and grabbed a log to throw onto the fire.

  “I am so thankful Monty hauled in enough wood to hold us for a couple of days,” Ellen said, settling back in her chair as the lights flickered again. “At least we’ll be able to stay warm if the power goes out.”

  “Monty told me the generator was ready to go,” Tanner assured her. “We’ll be okay.”

  “I have to say I’m thankful you’re here,” Ellen said as Keira set a squirming Adana on the floor.

  They sat a moment in silence that felt, to Tanner, as strained as it had before.

  “Well, I’m tired,” Alice said with a sad smile. “Keira, do you mind helping your mother get ready for bed?”

  “Of course not. I’m going to put this munchkin to bed, too,” Keira said, picking Adana up from the mess of books and DVD cases she had created.

  Ellen got up and walked toward the bookcase, slowly crouching down to pick up the books and cases that Adana had spilled.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” Tanner said, hurrying over to her.

  “It’s okay. I need to feel like I can do something,” she said with a groan as she reached over and picked up a DVD case. She looked down at it as she struggled to her feet. “Oh, look at this. An old DVD that Monty made,” she said suddenly, walking slowly over to the television. While Tanner tidied up the books and the cases, guessing as to where they were supposed to go, Ellen turned on the television and the DVD player and put the disc inside. As the picture came on, Tanner heard the sound of wind and some laughter. He finished putting the books away, then, curious, got up to see what Ellen was playing.

  All he saw was an empty corral, the barns, and then off camera, he heard the whinny of a horse. The camera wobbled as Monty, obviously the one filming, encouraged someone to bring the horse around.

  Then the camera moved, catching two figures riding the horse bareback, and Tanner’s heart plunged.

  Keira sat in the front, holding the reins, her head resting on Tanner’s chest, him riding behind her. Tanner had his arms wrapped around her middle, his head tucked against hers.

  They were both laughing. Carefree.

  “Look at you two,” Ellen said, sorrow edging her voice. “You were so in love then.”

  Such an innocent time, Tanner thought. Before his father’s death when he still foolishly thought he would someday get part ownership of the ranch. When he thought he had enough to offer Keira, daughter of one of the biggest ranchers in the county.

  “My goodness that was a while ago,” Ellen was saying as she slowly lowered herself into the chair behind her.

  On the television, Keira was laughing, the wind tossing her hair around. She caught it in her right hand and Tanner caught the glint of the diamond on her slender finger.

  “You’re blinding me with that rock,” Monty teased. “How about a kiss from the newly engaged lovebirds?”

  Keira laughed again but then leaned her head back and his head lowered, capturing her lips in a kiss even as he covered their faces with his cowboy hat.

  The camera shook, as Monty laughed. “No need to be shy,” he called out.

  As he watched, Tanner’s heart turned over, and he wished he could look away.

  Suddenly Keira entered the room, still carrying a book. “Well, she’s all settled in for the night, I—”

  She came to a dead stop. The book slid out of her fingers, falling with a thud on the floor as she stared at the television screen.

  “What is this?”

  “An old movie I found of you and Tanner trying out that mare that your father was convinced would be the foundation of his new horse herd,” Ellen said, turning awkwardly around to look at her daughter.

  “Turn that off,” Keira said, her voice a strangled sound.

  “Pardon me, honey?” Ellen asked.

  “Please. Turn it off,” she repeated.

  “But sweetheart—”

  Then without a word of explanation, Keira fled the room, running up the stairs. Retreating.

  Tanner fought the urge to follow her. To ask her what was going on.

  Instead, he walked over to the bookshelf on the pretense of fixing up the books there as he heard the door of her bedroom slam.

  He sighed, stifling his reactions. Talking to Keira was a waste of time. He knew he would get no answers from her tonight. Maybe never.

  * * *

  The sewing machine clunked, then stuck.

  Keira yanked the leather out of the machine, turned it over up and groaned at the snarl of threads at the bottom of the piece. It would take her forever to snip and cut and then untangle everything from the bobbin of the sewing machine, and in ten minutes Tanner was coming to get her to feed the cows. He had offered to do it himself but it was too big a job for one person in this weather.

  She shivered, wishing she had started a fire this morning instead of relying on the small electric heater in the corner of the shop that barely kept the cold at bay.

  She blew on her fingers, drew in a long breath and grabbed her scissors and snipped at the threads, wishing she could as easily excise the images from the movie she had seen last night.

  Her and Tanner.

  Him kissing her.

  Their utter and complete happiness.

  Keira snipped too forcefully and jabbed herself in the finger, right beside the cut that she had sustained when she and Tanner had done dishes. In a fit of anger she tossed the scissors aside and pushed herself away from the machine. T
his was ridiculous. In the past few years she’d found her balance and had found, if not happiness, at least a measure of contentment. Now she felt as if her fragile control was slipping out of her hands.

  Just because Tanner was back, nothing had changed. She pounded her fists on the table in front of her, fighting her anger and frustration.

  And, even worse, the lingering appeal his presence created.

  Remnants of old feelings flitted through her mind, creating a frustrating mixture of dread and anticipation at the thought of seeing Tanner again.

  Lord, I don’t know why I’m dealing with this right now, she prayed, staring straight ahead. But I’m tired of it. I want it gone.

  She drew in a long, slow breath, realizing her prayer was more of a demand than a supplication.

  You know what you need to do.

  The words slunk around at the edges of her mind, taunting her.

  No. That wasn’t necessary. She’d spent the past few years burying the past. No sense resurrecting it now. It would serve no purpose.

  Then the door of the shop opened, bringing in a gust of cold air. Sugar trotted in, and after him came Tanner, snow covering his hat and shoulders. The snow was still coming down, harder than before.

  “Hey, there,” he said. “I’ve got the tractor running.” He glanced at the piece of leather still stuck in the sewing machine. “I can do it on my own if you have work to do.”

  “It’s too cold to do it on your own,” she said, walking over to the hooks that held her winter clothes. She tugged on her stocking cap, then grabbed her snow pants and coat, beginning the painstaking work of layering for the weather outside. As she pulled her scarf off the hook, she caught Tanner’s wry smile.

  “You’ve completely disappeared under all that stuff.”

  “I hate being cold,” she said as she proceeded to wrap her scarf around her neck, but her bulky coat made it difficult for her to reach behind her head and her scarf got tangled up in her stocking cap, pulling it off her head. She grabbed her hat, tugged it on and tried again but the scarf tangled up in the hood of her oilskin coat.