A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League)

by Allie Pleiter

  “Can I give you a bit of advice, Finn?”

  “Sure.”

  “Seems to me, now would be a mighty fine time to start asking. You’ve had something huge happen to you. God can use that, probably already has. Amelia says she doesn’t think it’s an accident that she found you, and I agree. God’s got something up His sleeve, and I sure would hate for you to miss it.”

  It was a moment before Finn said, “Maybe you’re right, Luther.”

  Gramps laughed again. “’Course I am. I’m always right. But don’t you tell Amelia. I like to let her think she’s right now and again just to be nice.”

  The laughter both men shared filled Amelia’s chest until she could scarcely breathe. Gramps liked Finn a great deal. Even Bug liked Finn. But what to do about the fact that she was coming to care for him? I don’t want it to end, Father. He’s a Ranger—and You know I wish that weren’t so—but still I don’t want it to end.

  Amelia checked her watch. It was two o’clock. She was going to have to break into this little scene soon if she and Finn were to get the deliveries done in time to get back and get dinner for Lizzie and Boone started. Maybe that time in the car, doing all the deliveries, would give Finn a chance to tell her directly about his being a Ranger. It mattered that he choose to tell her rather than overhearing it the way she had just done. Maybe he would finally tell her whatever was tormenting him so. Surely she could convince him keeping it bottled up was only going to make it worse.

  Then again, she was just as guilty of not telling him what she was feeling, wasn’t she?

  Amelia counted to five, put a cheerful look on her face and popped casually into the room. “I don’t know what you boys are laughing about, but I need Finn’s help to go stocking right now if you can spare him, Gramps.”

  Finn looked up from closing the tractor box. “Stalking?”

  “No, stocking. As in Christmas stockings.”

  Gramps rolled his eyes as if he found the whole idea of her little deliveries silly, which Amelia supposed was his way of dealing with the fact that he could no longer help with what she knew had been one of his favorite holiday traditions. “Normal people would call it delivering goodies to the neighbors. Amelia calls it stocking. It’s the one thing she thinks she does anonymously.” He snorted. “But everybody knows it’s her.”

  Two could play that game. Amelia rose up to her full height. “All right, Gramps.” She cleared her throat. “I require Finn’s assistance so that I can deliver baked goods to our neighbors under the false pretense of anonymity. Factual enough for you?”

  “Well—” Gramps frowned “—when you put it that way, stocking does sound better.”

  She kissed the top of his head. “My point exactly.” She shifted her gaze to Finn, who looked reluctant to be involved in this little stunt no matter how it was described. “You said you got a temporary license document from Dr. Searle’s office. I figured a short, slow tour of the neighborhood might be the perfect way for you to get behind the wheel again. Doc said you only had to wait ten days, right?”

  She knew that would seal Finn’s participation. “Who could say no to that?” His smile reminded her how much she had come to enjoy his company. And that was a double blessing, because the thought of stocking alone because Gramps no longer could go with her was too sad.

  “We’ll be back in an hour, tops, Gramps.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about me,” Gramps said with a touch of forced cheer that pinched Amelia’s heart. Yet another adjustment, yet another activity stolen by age’s frailties. “You two kids have fun and stay out of trouble.”

  It was what Gramps had always said when Rafe picked her up for a night out. It was what Gramps had said anytime a boy took her out in high school. Amelia hoped Finn couldn’t see the heat rise to her cheeks. Thank goodness it was the middle of the afternoon rather than at night when she and Gramps had done this in years past.

  Finn followed her out of the den. “I don’t have to dress up or anything, do I?”

  Amelia laughed that Finn would think her capable of that level of holiday antics. “No, Finn, you’re just driving the getaway car.” She stopped herself just short of making a joke about law enforcement driving the getaway car. I hate all this secrecy, Lord. Let things come out in the open between Finn and me today, please.

  * * *

  Amelia dashed back into the car, breathless and laughing. “That’s number twelve! Go, go, before they open the door!”

  Finn applied the gas to go the fifty feet to the next drive on Amelia’s block. He reached behind him to the box of twenty or so decorated bags of cookies and candy with the tag “You’ve been blessed! Now spread the Christmas Cheer to someone else this season!” and handed the next bag to her. “You’re just a little bit nuts—you know that, don’t you?” He chuckled as she plucked it from his hand. He’d tried to stay skeptical and slightly annoyed at the silly tradition, but it was impossible in the face of Amelia’s obvious glee. Truth was, he spent the time watching her dash back and forth admitting to a craving for her joy.

  “Best kind of nuts there is.” She pointed to him. “And don’t try to tell me you’re not having fun, because you are.”

  Finn held his hands up. “Maybe just a little bit, but I’m staying in the car.”

  “For now,” she teased as she opened the car door and prepared for her sprint to the door and back.

  Finn made a show of scrunching down in his seat as if hiding. “For good.”

  He watched her bound up the sidewalk, hang the bag from the doorknob and ring the doorbell. The door opened immediately, the older woman inside laughing and pulling Amelia into a joyous hug. They talked excitedly for a few minutes before Amelia pointed to the car and gave a wave. The older woman waved at Finn, and Finn found himself smiling and waving back even as he cringed.

  Amelia’s world was so bright, so full of love that his own life loomed all the darker by comparison. He envied her ability to roust up so much happiness. How did she keep that sparkle, that infectious bounce of hers, when she’d seen such hard times? Luther said it was her faith. Luther also said such faith could be his for the asking. He didn’t think he believed that, but it was a nice idea to ponder.

  Amelia was still laughing as she walked back to the car—no need to dash this time—her smile still a mile wide. “Miss Betty catches me every year. I think she watches from the window. She’s eighty-four—I should be faster than her.” She leaned back in her seat, eyes glowing as she looked a him, her face more amused than foiled at being caught. “What?”

  He didn’t know how else to put it. “You’re so...happy. All the time. No matter what.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

  “I would. There’s more than enough to pull your spirits down this year and yet you’re still out there making other people happy. Her—” he nodded to the door Amelia had just left “—Gramps, all those kids.” He should have said me, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  “Like I said, it’s the best way to get over your own hurts.” She spoke it with the quiet certainty of truth, yet he still couldn’t quite see how the exchange took place. He’d spent all this time helping Amelia help people, and his own problems still threatened to swallow him whole.

  No, that wasn’t quite true. When he was with Amelia helping people, he did feel a tiny bit of the hollow sting go away. Only it wasn’t about Amelia’s benevolence; it was about Amelia. The ache to be near her was the one sure thing in his life right now, and there were reasons why that wasn’t a good thing.

  “That Rafe broke your heart but good, didn’t he?”

  Finn watched the pain of the subject wash over her features. “Yes, he did.”

  He had to tell her. It was the only obstacle he could place between them to block the constant pull he felt toward her. “Amelia, I have to tell you something. I’m a Ranger. Was, at least. I think I still am. I’m with the force just like Rafe was.”

  She leaned her head back against
the seat, eyes closed, absorbing what he’d just told her. There, he’d done it. Put the necessary wedge between them so that whatever he felt—whatever he suspected she felt as well—couldn’t go any further.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was small and quiet.

  Thank you? “For what?”

  “For telling me.”

  Only Amelia Klondike could find a way to offer thanks for an additional wound to her heart. He could tell himself he hadn’t just hurt her, but with so much truth missing, now wasn’t the time to start lying to himself. Best to simply get on with things. He went to put the car back into gear, but she reached out a hand to stop him. His body reacted to her touch the way it always did. Would her touch ever stop thundering through him like that? Amelia pulled her hand back, aware of what she’d done.

  “I have something to tell you,” she said. She caught his eyes for a brief moment before lowering her gaze in what looked like embarrassment.

  He couldn’t think of anything Amelia needed to be embarrassed about. “What?”

  “I knew.”

  Finn turned to her. “You knew?”

  Her cheeks turned pink. Finn thought it might be ten years before that particular shade of pink left his memory, if ever. “I overheard you talking to Gramps. I’m not proud of that, and I owe you an apology.”

  She’d overheard him confessing to Luther how he’d been unable to tell her about being a Ranger and she was apologizing to him? It struck Finn that even if there wasn’t a single obstacle between them, he’d never deserve someone as good-hearted as Amelia. Not in a million years. “I couldn’t work up the nerve to tell you. Not after what you told me about Rafe.”

  “I know. I heard the whole conversation, Finn. I should have walked away, but I didn’t.”

  That meant she’d heard everything. The way he’d praised her to her grandfather, the way Luther had talked about her faith, she’d heard all of it. It hung unspoken in the air between them just now, and his chest stung from the exposure. The car felt too small, and the half-dozen bags yet to be delivered loomed like a Herculean burden instead of a silly, happy task. How did she always get so much closer to him than he wanted?

  “Gramps is right, you know. God is always watching over us. And you’re wrong—I’m not always happy. But I always have joy, and that’s how I keep going. Happy comes and goes—” she rolled her eyes a bit “—mostly goes, at least this past year, but joy is a gift of the Spirit. Something you can ask for, like Gramps said.”

  “Like faith. Like healing.” Finn couldn’t quite believe such words were coming out of his mouth. She smiled at his response, that bone-deep, glowing smile of hers that took the sting out of anything. Tell her. He felt a nearly irresistible urge to tell her what he’d been doing this whole time they’d been “stocking”—something he’d never expected to admit to anyone, especially not her. “I have been.” The words ought to be simple but they tangled up on his tongue. He twisted to face her fully. “While you were up at those doors, I’ve been sitting here asking.” It wasn’t anything as clear as praying, nothing close to the eloquent, heartfelt prayers Amelia and Luther said before meals. It was more of sending his hurt and hunger up to heaven in wordless pleas. “I watched you and asked God for what you had. What you and Luther have. I can’t pray like you and he do, but...” He ran out of words to try to explain the unexplainable.

  “Oh, Finn.” Her hand covered his hand, and Finn didn’t have enough distance to fight the connection it made. She understood. He was so weary of keeping her at a distance. Belinda was gone, lost to him for now if not forever, and Amelia was so very real to him right now. He’d become dangerously dependent on her as a lifeline, a beacon in the storm of everything exploding around him. Soon enough, his memory would fully return and thrust him back into his sorry, solitary life. He’d miss this glimpse of joy, the warmth that came with being near Amelia. It made the urge to grab it and keep it now that much harder to resist. If she’d only stop looking at him with all that “if only” in her eyes. It was unwinding the last shred of his resistance. I’ll only hurt you, he wanted to shout, but watched his left hand close over hers instead.

  His hand with the watch on his wrist. The watch Belinda had given him, the tangible reminder of all the terrible facts and sad history piled up like a mountain between them. They both stared at their joined hands, and Finn knew they both saw not only his hand on hers, but the watch and all it represented—their whole surreal relationship played out in one tiny scene. For a long moment Finn wrestled with the twin urges to pull her close and let her head fall against his shoulder, or to get out of the car and run until he fell over.

  The way he could hear Amelia’s quick breaths, she stood on the same edge—and knowing that only made everything worse. She slid her hand from underneath his and placed a single finger on the watch. “Look at the time,” she said softly. “We’d better keep going or we’ll be late to get ready for supper.”

  With a dual stab of regret and relief, Finn felt the wonder of the moment slide away to be swallowed up by the demands of real life. Their individual lives—lives becoming more separate with every memory—would eventually split apart for good. Hadn’t someone told him once that while you pray for what you want, God gives you what you need?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Amelia hadn’t even set out the main dish that night and dinner with Boone and Lizzie was already sliding into disaster. She reapplied her smile as she removed the chicken from the oven and set it in the center of the table. She’d thought one large roaster would be enough for four adults, but just the salad had shown Boone to be a ravenous eater. “I’m glad you like my cooking, Boone,” she said as she watched the young man wolf down food as if he hadn’t eaten for months. His shaggy auburn hair and lean build even made him look a bit like a wild animal. Still, Boone had dashing blue-green eyes—Lizzie had always fallen for striking eyes—and a wide, bright grin.

  “Seems like Boone’s always starving,” Lizzie said, smiling at her fiancé as if his ravenous appetite was a virtue. “I reckon our grocery bills will be sky-high once we’re married.”

  Amelia had just had the same thought, and by Finn’s expression as he caught her eye, she wasn’t alone.

  “Your cooking is awfully good,” Finn complimented as he wisely passed the chicken to Gramps first—had Boone been given first dibs, there might be nothing left for the rest of them. “What do you do, Boone?”

  “Do?” Boone wiped up the last of his salad dressing with another biscuit.

  Amelia caught a momentary “is this guy for real?” spark in Finn’s eye before he expounded, “Where do you work? What’s your field?”

  “Me? I mostly just pick up work here and there wherever I can.”

  “Boone’s a freelance ranch hand,” Lizzie said.

  Now, that’s a very shiny way to say Boone doesn’t have a steady job, Amelia thought but kept her mouth shut. Every young person had to start out somewhere, and it wasn’t as if Lizzie needed Boone’s salary to support herself. Amelia had always considered her financial independence to be one of the great blessings of her life, and had tried to teach her little sister the same.

  “I go where the work takes me,” Boone said.

  “That can do a fellow fine for a time,” Gramps offered as he filled his plate with chicken before passing it to Amelia. “Hard work’s good for a soul. But what would you like to do in the long run?”

  “I’m not much for long-term plans, Mr. Klondike. I like to think of myself as a man of opportunity.” He flashed the boyish, engaging grin Lizzie always raved about.

  Amelia swallowed a large gulp of iced tea, watching the look that flashed between Gramps and Finn. Gramps had not yet invited Boone to call him Luther. “Flexibility can be a fine thing in a young man,” she offered, taking only one slice of chicken as she passed the plate to Lizzie. “I expect you’ve learned a lot about all different kinds of ranching that way. And you must be doing well to get that fine new truck out there.”
Boone and Lizzie had pulled up in a shiny black top-of-the-line pickup.

  “Isn’t it snazzy?” Lizzie beamed. She’d always been swayed by a fancy car. Amelia didn’t know much about trucks, but this one looked as if it had every bell and whistle on the market, and was so large she could probably park her little SUV in the payload.

  “Sure is,” Gramps offered, not bothering to keep the note of suspicion out of his words. Evidently Amelia wasn’t the only one to wonder how a “freelance ranch hand” could afford such an expensive vehicle. Surely Lizzie wouldn’t be so foolish as to mingle her finances with a man she hadn’t yet married? Gramps had given both of them a thorough education on how to be wise with the considerable assets Mama and Daddy had left them. She’d try to catch a moment alone with Lizzie after supper and make sure those lessons had sunk in.

  Amelia tried to change the subject. “Speaking of fancy, I heard some top-of-the-line boots and chaps showed up at the Larson place yesterday.”

  “Yeah,” Boone said with another wide smile. “Can you believe all that? I think it’s great that Christmas is coming early for some of the folks around here who really need it. I’d sure like to know who is doing all these crazy things.” He winked at Amelia. “You sure it’s not you, Miss K? My Lizzie says you got the biggest heart in the county and I don’t know anybody who likes Christmas more.”

  Amelia would have enjoyed the compliment if it hadn’t felt so...forced. He couldn’t be deflecting suspicion away from himself, could he? Boone had worked at many of the ranches that had been hit. It made a disturbing sort of sense that he could be the Robin Hood, and Amelia didn’t like how easily she could see him committing the crimes. He’d not been kind in his opinions of many of Little Horn’s more prosperous ranchers—and he’d have knowledge of their properties and possessions.

  What, then, of the other side of Little Horn’s Robin Hood? Boone certainly hadn’t shown a generous side with Lizzie, but could it be because Lizzie was well-off and he was helping out others who weren’t? Amelia stared at him, calling on her famous intuition to tell her more about Boone. I just don’t see it in him. Am I missing something, Lord? Amelia was rarely wrong about people, but this would be a happy beginning if she were. If he had money for such a truck, he surely must have some source of funds to be secretly generous. Perhaps it was further proof that the whole family needed to put in an effort to get to know Boone better.