by Tanya Hanson
As the choir finished, Pastor Hale took his place, center aisle, right below the steps. He seemed sweaty, but the nave was very warm, and his voice was strong. “Good morning, and welcome on this fourth and final Sunday of Advent. Join with me as we continue to prepare the way of the Lord.”
He turned to reach the lectern, but stumbled on the steps, staggered, and then collapsed.
Tiffany gasped, heart stilling for a second. Shivers attacked her spine from top to toe.
As the congregation slow-mo-ed in similar horror, Bragg and Tony instantly got up at the same time. Opposite sides of the church, and in sync, they dashed to the pastor, did a quick assessment of him, and started CPR.
Several times Tiffany had learned the procedure, but had always reckoned she’d be too panicked to be of use. And right now proved her right. She could barely move, yet her body succumbed to a riot of shudders.
Bragg and Tony, however, seemed as confident as presidents.
ABC. Not a kindergarten lesson, but Airway, Breathing, Compression.
Five compressions from Bragg. One breath from Tony. Suddenly she recalled the AED box stocked at the large Denver law firm, as Kelley Martin ran from the church.
“Does the church have an emergency defibrillator?” Tiffany called out.
The choirmaster gestured for his group to leave their places and make a privacy screen as some congregation members craned their necks nervously. Several moved to come forward. Somebody from the next row explained no, such boxes were too expensive. Somebody else wailed that Pike Martin, also an EMT, was on his honeymoon.
As if on some heavenly cue, the organist began to play and the choir started a soft song.
But none of that fazed the team of Bragg and Tony, working as one. Working for a common cause. Working for the good. Working to save Pastor Hale’s life.
Both terror and joy swamped Tiffany because the two men had taken such sure charge of the potential disaster.
Just as Elaine Martin got up to tend to frantic Joanne Hale, Hooper and Kenn stepped up to hold back the congregants moving toward the action.
Even though she knew Bragg had other things on his mind, Tiffany ached to be at his side.
“Everybody else stay back,” Hooper said, firm but not arrogant, as the music faded off. “Bragg and Tony know CPR from their swimming days. And my sister Kelley is off to rouse the volunteer rescue squad. Let’s let God take charge. Let’s bow our heads and ask Him to hear us.”
Fear, hope, and trust rustled up and down Tiffany’s spine as she tore her gaze away from Bragg and bowed her head. During Hooper’s authoritative, heartfelt plea, she prayed like she’d never prayed before because, truth was, she never had.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Kelley rush back in, followed by the emergency squad. The EMT’s raised defib paddles across Pastor’s inert body, announced “flat line” and began a drug protocol.
With confidence, Hooper segued the congregation into the Lord’s Prayer. Everybody around her knew it by heart and recited now, firm and hopeful. Shame laved Tiffany. She’d never even bothered with the Our Father. Yet some of the phrases were familiar. In His wisdom, God had somehow planted seeds, and she mumbled along pretty fine.
“Life Flight is on scene at a pile up on Highway 40. Let’s keep those folks in our prayers, too.” Kelley’s voice projected over the congregation as the last “amen” was said. “But Doyle Calhoun is on his way in his ‘copter. It’s a roomy, four-seater Robinson, and he’s got a basket, too. If needed, he can get Pastor Hale to the cardiac unit in Steamboat in no time.”
“He’s got a rhythm. We’ll get him to the medical clinic in Promise in ten, and wait on what the ER says,” announced one of the medics, as the EMT’s prepared the pastor on a gurney.
Prayers gave way to sighs of relief.
Joy thumped through Tiffany when Bragg and Tony stepped out of the way and faced each other with an elbow-to-elbow handclasp. Then they tightly embraced each other.
At the choirmaster’s lead, the congregation burst into “Joy to the World,” and Tiffany tasted the tears that ran down her cheeks. Finally, she realized she had bones inside her quivering skin. On strengthened legs, she stood straight and sang with joy.
Without a word, Bragg reached her side and clasped her close, despite them being in church and Tony standing near. Her knees turned to jelly again. “Bragg…” She started to speak out, but had no clue what she meant to say.
His arms tightened. “It’s all right. He’ll be fine.”
“You and Tony” —She caught her breath and turned her head from Bragg’s chest to behold Tony, who smiled, shy—“you guys saved Pastor’s life.”
“How about that? The Lord sure works in mysterious ways,” Bragg whispered into her hair, so close she heard each syllable, smelled his pine scent.
She tried to calm the shudders of aftershock that wracked him. Like the wings of a bird, her hands left his neck to flutter against his hair. The notes of the beautiful old carol trilled around then in a dream, but for Tiffany, the reality had finally hit her.
God was in charge. He’d proven it just now. He didn’t make mistakes.
Tony had a purpose here, and so did she. Finally calmed, Bragg took her hand as they sat back down.
A man well-dressed in a regular Sunday suit, not western wear, took the lectern as the choir finished. Tiffany found her soul rejoicing as the truth of his words hit her heart.
“Let’s continue, brothers and sisters, with a carol, singing to honor our newborn Lord, and a prayer service asking God to preserve Pastor Jim, to sustain Joanne. Let’s thank our dear and generous Lord for Bragg and…this young visitor—why, it’s Tony O’Neal. Been a while, son. Anyway, thank God for granting them the skills of that lifesaving procedure. Thank Him for the promptness of our rescue squad. Most of all, let none of us forget what we saw here today. That God is love.”
Like it wasn’t awkward at all, Tony joined her and Bragg, all three squashed close in the front pew.
8
Back at the ranch, the Sunday tried to be normal, but it wasn’t, not at all. Bragg shook his head as a drift of snow on the air brushed across his face. He heard Tony tell Tiffany right after the prayer service that they’d do brunch some other time. Or not. It was said with a twinkle that let Bragg know for sure the animosity was gone. And he’d returned a big grin.
His heart sang, recalling Tiffany’s relief, and his skin tingled, recalling the touch of her hand.
Ma insisted Tony come to the ranch for Sunday dinner. With the new peace between them, Bragg relented and took Tony for a trail ride. Although Tony had learned horses as a kid, he spent most of his years thereafter in a pool, and when he told Bragg he wanted to saddle up once more, Bragg believed him.
“We were quite a team back at church,” Tony said, atop Sugarfoot, a fine buckskin Bragg had picked for his calm nature. Although, Bragg had to admit to a passing temptation to toss Tony on Thunderstruck, an aptly named roan quarterhorse.
“Yep. You taught us well, way back when.” Bragg told Tony sincerely.
The Lord worked mysteriously, putting the two of them together in front of everybody. No way could they be enemies much longer, not with everyone treating them like heroes. Especially if Tony chose to stick around. Most of all, Bragg realized, he didn’t want them to stay enemies. Still…
“I remember a lot of dates with Resus-a-Annie.” Bragg snickered at recollections of the practice dummy.
Helping save a man’s life changed a guy. Bragg knew he’d never be the same. He’d stop putting stuff off for tomorrow that he ought to get tended to today. As he shook his head again, holding off another wave of shock, he took comfort in the mountains around him.
“Bragg, I…” Tony reined in on the trail at the top of a little pine-studded rise. Below them, Hearts Crossing ranch spread out like some wonderful kind of quilt cuddled by foothills. “I’m not sure why I came back.”
“Well, I’m glad you did. I mean, at least f
or Pastor Hale’s sake.” Bragg shrugged. He never cared for emotional gigs. Unless, of course, he might be with Tiffany.
Tony’s jaw clenched. “No denying, I’d like the job at the Bar R. I know it’s part-time, but I have money saved and could supplement as a substitute teacher. But I need a purpose.”
“Don’t we all?” Bragg was patient, but despite his lighter heart in terms of Tony, he had yet to hear the man’s desire to clear Bragg’s name.
“The last six months in Reno, in the casino world, didn’t do a thing for me. I know what a good thing I had in Daisy, but truth was”—Tony’s voice slowed—“I stole her from your brother Kenn. I was jealous of y’all and what you have here. And …I wanted what Kenn had.”
Bragg tensed at the admission as Tony paused, pursing his lips. Even though the cold air had reddened his cheeks, they brightened even more. “I was about to do the same with Tiffany. That night we got snowbound. I saw the way you looked at her. It’s a bum competition I started, and I ask you to overlook it. And to forgive me.”
Ah. Big words from a big man. Bragg had no choice but to abide by the Lord’s mandate. And if Tony ever admitted his wrong publicly about the doping, well, that would be gravy. But he knew what he had to do today.
“You got it, Tony. I’ve learned much from Pastor Hale. I want you to know I’m taking my name off the table for the Bar R job. No argument.” Bragg held up a hand at Tony’s protest. It was simply the right thing to do. His heart swelled. The day was turning out pretty fine. Doyle Calhoun had gotten Pastor safely to the Heart Center in Steamboat Springs after he’d stabilized enough, and his kids and their families had all been able to catch earlier flights to be with their folks. Bragg looked Tony dead on. “And if you stick around, it looks like you’ll have the chance to learn from Pastor Hale, too. He’ll be back on his feet in no time at all.”
“Yeah.” Tony nodded. “I might start going to services. And just so you know. I told Tiffany she’s way off the hook about having to go on a date with me. I can see what’s going on with you two.” There wasn’t a tinge of bitterness in his tone. “But…you OK with me staying on to supper?”
Bragg nodded. Of course it would be better if Tony had completed his confession, but Bragg would take what he could get now. The wind was chilling fast, and he wanted to warm up in front of the fire with Tiffany and a massive cup of cocoa.
Hearing some barking, he caught site of Hearts Crossing’s herd of border collies cavorting through the corrals. They were covered with as much mud as snow, and he chuckled, recalling Tiffany’s request for one of them to sleep on her bed. She had, of course, declared her upcoming presence for Christmas Eve and Day. Bragg sighed, deep. No man could ever be more content.
“Gosh, they sure take me back.” Tony was saying as he pointed to the dogs. “Had a great pup on that ranch when I was a kid. Never knew, you know. What happened to him, I mean.”
A kid not knowing what became of his beloved dog smacked Bragg in the gut. It hit him as they cantered off toward the caterwauling dogs. What he had to do and say next. “Tony, I don’t know if you’ve got plans for Christmas. But there’s an open door here at Hearts Crossing for you.” He had to warn Tony, however. “Although you might want to know. Daisy’s parents will be here. They’re kin, now. Her brother and his family, too. And well, her granny’s got a tongue like a straight razor. Just warning you.”
Tony’s face bore both surprise and cold. “Why, that’s pretty nice of you. I’ll think about it.” They rode back to the barn in silence although the wind had decided to go dicey. Another storm stranding people would sure put Ma in her element.
He laughed out loud, mostly because Tiffany waited on the porch of the ranch house, holding two steaming mugs. Aw, she must have been watching his route for a while to get the timing just right. Just at sight of her, his heart turned over and over like a Ferris wheel of forever.
“Hey man, go get your lady. I recall enough about unsaddling horses.” Tony took the reins of both animals after they dismounted, using his free hand to toss Tiffany a wave.
“So how’d it go?” Tiffany asked after a quick, but delicious kiss. The house had a lot of windows, and Bragg didn’t know who might be nosy. After their embrace at church in front of just about everybody, his feelings sure couldn’t be much of a surprise to anybody. But he wanted to savor every second of their blooming relationship and hold it close.
Nose inside his warm mug, he nodded. “We’ve made progress.” He decided to hold off about Tony competing with him for her affection. “We’ve got a ways to go, but nothing in life is easy, is it?”
“You got that right. Come on in. I think there’s a raging game of Hungry Hippos going on. Not to mention a couple of marathons of White Christmas and A Christmas Story.”
He grimaced when the heated air pushed against him as they opened the big front door. “White Christmas is Ma’s favorite. Rachel’s, too. What’s the big deal?” He sniffed, hoping he wasn’t catching a cold.
“The big deal?” Tiffany teased. “Frankly, I’d take a knight on a white horse over a lamp shaped like a leg wearing a fish-net stocking any day of the week.”
“What? A lamp shaped like a leg wearing a what?”
“Sit down and watch A Christmas Story. It’s a couple hours of fun. Then you’ll get the joke.”
“And what’s that? About a knight on a white horse?”
She rolled her eyes. “Bing Crosby sticks a miniature one on a branch for Rosemary Clooney. They hide behind the Christmas tree and he grabs her close…”
“Hmmmmm.” Hunkered behind the coat-strewn hall tree, he hauled her tight and growled into her ear. “How about a cowboy on a Winchester?”
“Mmmmm, good.” She snuggled into him. “Sure works for me.”
The kiss sparked and settled in his belly.
****
Over the next few days, joy overtook the pain in Tiffany’s heart. Something about Hearts Crossing put hope inside with her newfound faith. Sitting at Bragg’s side singing Christmas carols had opened her heart to the Lord in ways that still had her trembling, He’d knocked to come in, and she’d let Him willingly. She couldn’t wait for Pastor Hale to return to church—she had a lot to tell him, and a lot of listening to do. So far, he was making good progress.
Snow and tricky roads kept everybody together at the ranch, although she managed one trip to town for Bragg’s present. She couldn’t deny the sense of belonging and peace that filled her heart and days. Twice she went along with Bragg when he checked the hay supply on the winter range, noticing his pride at how well she followed directions.
Although Tiffany felt right at home, Mrs. Martin fussed over her. She suspected the real reason was because it distracted Elaine from the ache of Pike and Daisy still on their ski honeymoon. She was a devout, devoted woman who bloomed best when her entire family was nearby. At least Hooper and Ella weren’t flying to California to celebrate Christmas with Mallie’s family until after the holiday. But nothing kept Elaine Martin down for long.
“You ought to call that brother of yours,” she directed as she demonstrated her own technique for spiral-slicing a ham. For a most unusual moment, they were the only two in the kitchen. Over coffee one morning, Tiffany had found it easy to share her family mess with Elaine, receiving warm arms and nonjudgmental words in return. “Today‘s Christmas Eve. Perfect timing.”
“I know. But I don’t know.” Tiffany smiled and blinked quick to stem the tears. She had faith now, the confidence borne of it, and knew all about doing the right thing, but such a call would do no good. She’d tried many times before. And Paul, who wasn’t religious at all, would never get that faith was part of her new life, and he would only ridicule. Against that, she had no emotional armor just yet.
Mrs. Martin stunned her with a motherly glare that spoke louder than an inauguration speech, even as she wielded her knife like an exclamation point.
“I’m kind of nervous around big knives,” Tiffany said instead, ho
ping to sidetrack Elaine’s appeal to make peace with Paul and her family. Her thoughts winged to the acorn-shaped candle she bought for Bragg’s mother. He had said joke gifts only, but the hazelnut-scent smelled nice and was something Olga would have liked.
Olga. Oh, why had Tiffany’s brain turned traitor? Just thinking the name stung her. She forced herself to laugh, and she tossed out something inane. “At Delacruz Drugs, I got Bragg a nightlight shaped like the leg lamp from A Christmas Story.”
Mrs. Martin set down her knife and smiled, eyes wise. “He loved that movie the other night. Likely reminded him of his gadabout days as a rapscallion kid. He’ll crack up for sure.” Her mouth twitched like she wanted to say something else, but all that came out was a loud direction for everybody to get dressed for church. “The service starts at six, and I want us all to leave by five-thirty. No need to rush on those icy roads. Ella’s been flapping those wings since lunch.”
Ella was already in seventh heaven and could recite the announcement from Luke, chapter two, without a mistake.
“Let’s hustle.” Bragg’s voice reached the kitchen before he did, and Tiffany’s blood blasted around her veins in excitement. In longing. Would he…
Yes. He kissed her in front of his mother. Tiffany’s eyelids fluttered and her lips sparked, and Mrs. Martin beamed. To prevent collapse, Tiffany had to reach for the counter. Would Bragg always do this to her, take the air from her lungs and get every skin cell trembling? She managed to untie the apron and show him she was all dressed. The clingy black wrap dress wasn’t new, but it was perfect for church, and both Ella and Elaine had already admired her jingle-bell earrings.
“All we need is a one-horse open sleigh,” Tiffany marveled on the drive to Mountain Cove through a winter wonderland in Bragg’s truck. Although darkness had fallen, the snow-dappled ranches and rangeland sparkled through the dusk.
