A Montana Christmas Reunion

by Roz Denny Fox

  “Help me check the kitchen. I need to know if there’s stuff for breakfast or if I need to go to the café in the morning.”

  Saxon turned on the kitchen light and went straight to the cupboard that held the coffee.

  Jewell watched him dump stale coffee from the pot—probably left over from Leland’s breakfast. She peered in the fridge while he measured new grounds. “You coming back here after so long is a lot like what people say about riding a bicycle—you don’t forget. It shows what creatures of habit we are. Leland’s coffee is stored in the same spot it was when you were young. My kitchen is still set up like my mom had it.”

  “Amazing. I didn’t have to hunt for grounds or a mug.” He held one up to prove his point.

  The coffee soon began to perk and Jewell wrinkled her nose. “Yuck, coffee smell is one thing that plays havoc with my stomach.” She opened the freezer door. “But look, he wasn’t kidding about the juice can with the key to his desk drawer being in the freezer.” She held it out and scraped off a layer of frost. “I’m not surprised he forgot about the insurance policies. This can has about twenty years of frost on it. And I found it behind a package of beef that has freezer burn and should be tossed out.”

  “Put the can back. I’ll let him get out those policies.” Saxon stopped to inspect an old wall phone. “This is a relic. I wonder if he’d use a cell if I buy one and prepay for minutes. This phone doesn’t even have an answering machine.” Saxon lifted the receiver. “There is a dial tone.”

  Jewell had stopped at the kitchen table and was looking at a notepad lying there. She let out a gasp that had Saxon whirling around.

  “What’s wrong?” He returned the receiver to its cradle and joined her.

  “He really was thinking about altering his will before his collapse. When I stopped here this morning, he asked me in, saying there was something he wanted to talk about. This note mentions leaving his ranch to our baby.” She crumpled the page. “As his only blood relative, you should inherit his property.”

  Saxon lightly scraped his fingers down her cheek. “It’s his decision, Jewell. Technically, any child of mine is his blood relative.”

  “But...but...he shouldn’t cut you out,” she sputtered. “That’s not right.”

  “I’ve never expected anything from him. I don’t need anything.”

  Jewell flipped the page and saw writing on the one below. “Saxon, look at this. He’s proposing to...oh, make it so our group can’t buy his forest for our owls.” She let the pad drop.

  Saxon scooped it up. “Ah, I see what’s got your goat. He thinks this will manipulate us into marriage.”

  Jewell crossed her arms and locked her hands around her elbows. “It’s just wrong.”

  Saxon took her fully in his arms. “This may be something he considered, sweetheart, but he hasn’t spoken to Weiss.”

  “I’m not your sweetheart, Saxon. Why would he meddle like this?”

  “I guess he doesn’t want the Conrad name to end with me. And you said some folks here still believe in shotgun weddings. Just so we’re crystal clear...from my perspective, I have every intention of coparenting our child.”

  She was near enough to inhale his cologne, and a big part of Jewell wanted to remain wrapped in his embrace. A smaller part urged her to object. She might have done so, except Saxon’s cell phone chimed.

  Jewell could tell the way he released her and fumbled for the instrument that he, like she, worried that the call could be about Leland.

  Thankfully, she saw his tight jaw relax. “Sid. I know it’s late in Nashville, but I need to return your call. My uncle’s had emergency heart surgery. He came through all right, but frankly, it’s been a rough few hours.”

  Fully disengaging from the arm Saxon still had around her, Jewell claimed his attention with a dismissive wave and started to walk away.

  He tugged her back. His explosive retort to his caller had her stopping to listen.

  “I don’t give a damn what Fred wants. We agreed I’d get time off to write. I intend to do that and assist my uncle once he’s released from the hospital. Don’t set me up to perform next week in Boise and Great Falls. I mean it, Sid. Tell Fred no, or I’ll be a no-show.” He clicked off and slammed the phone down so hard the kitchen table rocked.

  His hand dropped from Jewell’s back. In a strained voice, he said, “I’m upset. You’re tired. And it’s ten o’clock. It’s probably best if we hold off discussing this further tonight. Let’s wait until after you see the doctor. I’ll talk to Leland when he’s up to it. God knows I already have enough people meddling in my life. In a sense, though, I agree with him. I want our baby to have my name, Jewell.”

  Making a garbled sound in her throat, she dashed from the room.

  Saxon raced after her—all the way to where she slammed out the front door. The old door stuck. He had to yank on it several times for it to open. When he stepped on the porch, Jewell was already firing up her pickup.

  He watched her back in a semicircle and drive off. He spent a breathless moment considering whether or not to follow. But she wasn’t driving too fast, and she lived less than a quarter mile away.

  Rubbing the furrows carved between his eyebrows, he decided it was probably better to give her space. No doubt his uncle thought he’d be doing Jewell a favor. It’d be natural for a man who judged Saxon as having run away from family to make his mark in Nashville to believe he might balk rather than man up and do his duty.

  His uncle was of a generation who’d expect them to marry and raise their child together. He wanted that, too. But Jewell acted as if she wasn’t open to even coparenting. She’d made it clear that she assumed he’d leave after the benefit, which meant what? His only having spotty visitations? Oh, yeah, he’d seen her eyes narrow as she listened to him talk to Sid about future performances. Of course, he knew their reason for wanting him to go on the road again so soon was tied to the possible CMA Entertainer of the Year nomination.

  Feeling caught between a rock and a hard place, Saxon went back inside to drink that coffee and sit down to mull over what he could do to appease everyone and keep juggling all the balls in the air.

  Chapter Ten

  Driving home, Jewell’s brain was in total turmoil. Maybe hearing she was pregnant with Saxon’s baby had made Leland go a little nuts. Did he really presume he could play matchmaker? Everyone in town knew her group wanted his timber for a snowy owl refuge, so possibly he did.

  After parking and letting herself into the house, she was greeted by two dogs delighted to see her. However, totally tuckered out, she went directly to bed and didn’t object when a dog snuggled in on each side of her. It was comforting even if right before she fell asleep, she felt like the filling in a pet sandwich.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING Jewell took a call from a rancher with sick steers. They arranged to meet at his pasture, and she looked up the number for Myra’s OB. On her way to the ranch, she called for an appointment. She expected it’d be a week or more to get in, but the receptionist said, “You’re in luck. My last phone call was a cancellation for tomorrow at one. Can you come then?”

  Of course she could. She confirmed the time, trying not to think about Saxon asking to go along. His request was never far from her thoughts, however. Truthfully, she wasn’t ready for that level of involvement. Not yet, and possibly not ever, under the circumstances.

  Once she’d dispensed medication to the sick cattle, she phoned Saxon to see if he’d seen Leland. Her call went to his voice mail. Rather than leave a message, she contacted the ICU desk. The nurse remembered her and said, “Mr. Conrad had a good night. His nephew was by earlier. I see Dr. Hamlin has limited visitations to immediate family until he’s moved to a ward.”

  Jewell thanked her and went to her clinic to meet a neighbor with a sick puppy. Her day became a se
ries of callouts. Saxon left her a message that Leland looked okay but was too groggy to talk. Since Saxon wasn’t spending the day at the hospital, she wondered what he was doing with his first free day back in town.

  The following morning another rancher phoned. “I’m worried my milk cows ate bitterweed I found in my pasture, Jewell.”

  Once she explained he wasn’t the first in the area to find the weed, he promised to notify the Cattlemen’s Association so everyone could get together and spray.

  The hours passed quickly. All too soon she faced going to see the OB. Being in medicine herself, she shouldn’t have been so nervous. After all, she helped deliver cows, horses, sheep, dogs and cats. Maybe because she’d run into some tough problems, that caused her anxiety.

  As she hurried home to shower off the cattle smell, her cell rang. Caller ID indicated it was Saxon. Rather than take his call, she opted to wait until after her appointment. Otherwise he’d pressure her to let him go along. Really, she’d only promised to relay what the doctor said.

  Later, at the clinic, she was ushered into a room and given a gown. A chatty nurse weighed and measured her and logged her vitals. Soon the doctor, young, pretty and personable, whisked into the room. She set Jewell at ease, even during the invasive check no woman liked.

  “I estimate you’re eight or nine weeks pregnant,” Dr. Archer announced after helping Jewell sit up.

  “Eight,” Jewell responded, and haltingly explained how she could be so sure right down to the day of conception. “Also, my periods are erratic. I didn’t realize I’d missed one until the friend who referred me, who’d gone through morning sickness, made me suspicious of my symptoms. I’m not only queasy and dizzy in the morning. Is that normal?”

  The doctor smiled. “Yes. But take prenatal vitamins. If, as you say, you’ve lost weight, drink this supplement.” She wrote on a prescription pad. “Given your occupation, in another couple of months you should wear a maternity support belt. About your symptoms. There are no absolute norms. With luck your discomfort will abate by the time I see you for your first ultrasound. Um, I see you’re single. Do you have concerns about going through this alone?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

  The doctor smiled. “That’s a normal reaction. Remember, I’m available to answer questions, and no question is too inconsequential. If you haven’t told the father, my advice would be to get that over with. However, it’s totally up to you.”

  “He knows. He’s in town temporarily.”

  “Ah, military or rodeo cowboy?”

  “Neither. But I promised to tell him how I am. Is it okay if he wants to come to my appointments?”

  “If he cares, that’s good. I’ve no objection if you wish to include him at your ultrasound. Some non-husbands fade away once they’ve seen the tangible evidence. Some see the fetus and are moved to commit.”

  “Hmm. I’ll consider it if he’s still in town.”

  Dr. Archer accepted that and directed Jewell out to speak with the receptionist.

  She booked her next visit and left the clinic mulling over what the doctor had said. Saxon thought he wanted to be involved. The doctor sounded as if she thought witnessing the ultrasound might change his mind. Rather than phone him with results, Jewell elected to run by Leland’s ranch to see if she could catch him. He could be there writing songs.

  When she pulled into the yard, his vehicle was parked at the house.

  She reached the porch and remembered the panic she’d gone through seeing Leland collapse there. Would she ever come here again without picturing it? She started to knock, then heard loud sounds coming from out back.

  She reversed course, rounded the house and saw Saxon, shirtless, splitting wood. His back muscles bunched each time he swung the ax, and his skin glistened with sweat. It shocked her to see him doing physical labor. He’d never wanted to help around the ranch. But shock wasn’t all she felt. Desire gnawed at her enough to have her clutching her stomach.

  Moving nearer, she swallowed and yelled, “Saxon, what in heaven’s name are you doing?” She actually feared he’d cut off his left hand the way he stood a piece of wood on a stump and brought the gleaming ax down through it.

  Pausing, he spun, saw her and grinned. “I’m cutting wood. What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “Why?” Jewell waved a hand aimlessly, more to cool her face than anything.

  “Eddie Four Bear said the temperature’s gonna dip, and it might rain. I remembered Leland liked sitting by his fireplace. I figured I’d fill the shed near the house with wood so he can have fires after he gets out of the hospital. I left you a message earlier.”

  “I had a doctor’s appointment.”

  “You did? How did that go?” He buried the blade in the stump, then reached for a T-shirt and rubbed it down his chest.

  Jewell’s eyes tracked the path of the soft fabric before she blurted, “I’m pregnant. Eight weeks.”

  “And...?”

  “I’m otherwise healthy.”

  “Great. Is there more?”

  “Next visit I’ll have an ultrasound and you can go if you’d like.” Her words ran together in her nervousness.

  “I would like. I’ll get the date and time later. I want to finish this stack and go see Leland before I meet a trio of high schoolers for a jam session in one kid’s barn. He plays drums, another the keyboard, and a third a steel guitar. The high school music teacher rounded them all up. I’m flattered to know they play some of my songs. They’ll be great backup at the benefit.”

  “The useless benefit since Leland won’t sell us his trees unless you and I...uh...commit to the impossible.”

  “Patience, Jewell. Let him heal. Then we’ll see.”

  “I have an hour before someone brings a pup in to be neutered. Oh, but you want to finish cutting wood. I thought maybe I could show you the Grange Hall.”

  “Tawana and Hunter took me to see it. I ate breakfast at the café, and Doreen introduced us. She’s anxious for news of Leland. Are those two more than friends? She knew what microwave meals are in his freezer.”

  “Huh? I’m stuck back on Tawana and Hunter taking you to the Grange.”

  “Yeah. The layout you ladies planned is perfect. Do you know the concert has sold out? Tawana asked if I’d donate some CDs for a raffle at your bazaar. I gave her T-shirts, too.”

  “Wow, you’ve made yourself right at home with my friends,” she said huffily.

  “Better get used to it. I said I plan to stick around. I also met the newlyweds and Lila’s son. Lila seems happy.” He tossed his T-shirt aside, yanked the ax out of the stump and, turning his back on Jewell, cut the next piece of wood into kindling.

  She winced at each swing. Deciding he did know how to handle an ax but unwilling to disturb him again to apologize for her snarkiness, she returned to her pickup. She didn’t like being bitchy. Saxon was doing something nice for Leland, and the Owl Café served as a hub in town where everyone met. Plus he’d gone to school with Lila, like she had.

  Maybe part of her reaction had been hearing him say Lila and Seth were back. With Myra, Doreen, Saxon and the OB doc all knowing her condition, it meant she couldn’t hold off much longer from telling her other friends she was pregnant. She worried that they, too, might try to pressure her into marriage. So, confessing wasn’t made easier having Saxon in town. Exactly what had he meant when he said he planned to stick around? Stick around for how long after the doctor cleared Leland for normal activity? Saxon’s life was on the road.

  As she neared her clinic, it struck her that she’d never felt this conflicted about anything in her life. Well, maybe the first time she’d let Saxon go his way while she went hers. Now was different. It wasn’t only the two of them his leaving would affect—there was the child they’d made together. Dads were important.

&nb
sp; But so were lifelong careers.

  If only Leland hadn’t needed to contact him. Eventually, she surely would have gotten past admitting some part of her had always longed to be Mrs. Saxon Conrad.

  * * *

  THE OWNER OF the pup needing surgery drove in behind her. Jewell parked, hopped out and wiped personal thoughts from her head. She went into professional vet mode and performed the surgery.

  Sometime afterward, she made a conscious decision to wait until after Saxon’s concert to come clean with the rest of her friends. She’d bury herself in work and avoid everyone, which wasn’t abnormal for her.

  Except that she had Lila’s dog. Quickly she left a message on the B-and-B phone asking to keep Ghost a few more weeks. She pleaded busyness and that Ghost was a settling influence on Shadow. That part was true, anyway.

  The next day the weather took a downswing. Some range cattle didn’t fare well in the unexpected freeze. It kept Jewell busy at outlying ranches.

  Most nights that week she came home beat and with barely enough energy to feed the animals and herself. It was good she hadn’t needed to fib to her friends.

  Saxon left a string of messages on her cell and home phones throughout the next two weeks. She didn’t return his calls. Partly because she was gone from dawn to after dark, but also because she needed longer to build up inner reserves to see him again. Luckily, she heard via the grapevine that Leland was doing well enough to be discharged the day after the concert, which meant Saxon would be tied down thereafter himself. Just two more days and they’d see each other at the concert.

  * * *

  HOSPITAL STAFF HAD moved Leland into a two-bed ward. His roommate had gone home, and now Saxon steered his uncle back from a walk down the hall.

  “I’m feeling gobs better. I’m ready to go home,” the old man said, nevertheless accepting help swinging his feet back up onto his bed. “Surprises me how many people have come to see me. Not Jewell, although she calls.”