Slade and Kally: Letting Go of the Reins, Book 1

by AE Rought

  “I agree.”

  It took more than muddy boots and gentle persuasion to separate the bull from the herd, but he managed with George’s help. The two men slammed the gate shut, then Slade tipped his hat to Zeus. “You are still the stud.”

  Two showers and a few hours later, the timeshares gathered before the Fourth Moon’s main house. Grace clutched a huge thermos to her chest and Emma held a bottle of homemade Irish whiskey Slade knew his father had entrusted into her care. Rosie held two bags, one filled with cookies, and another appeared to be coordinating travel mugs.

  Pride and love of his family’s heritage swelled his chest when he hitched the horses to the sleigh and drove them to the front porch where his loved ones had gathered for one of his favorite holiday traditions. The sleigh bells chimed a high, joyful tune when his passengers clambered aboard. He wanted Kally by his side and extended a hand to pull her up onto the bench. Mugs inscribed with everyone’s names were passed around, and then Rosie made certain to fill each with a healthy mix of cocoa and whiskey.

  The snow squeaked beneath the runners, the horses’ breath rose in plumes and his spirits soared. The yellow light of the lanterns mixed with the white moonlight, illuminating the pine branches and occasionally a pair of eyes or the paths they traveled. Kally settled a hand on his thigh and clutched her cocoa with the other mitten-covered hand. Simple carols were sung. Emma and Grace even did a tear-jerking round robin of “Oh Holy Night.”

  Ever mindful of the horses and the load they pulled, he kept the excursion brief, returning the carolers to the front door far before midnight. George remained in the rig to help him with currying the horses once the sleigh had been parked back in its place of honor. By the time they’d returned to the house, it danced with white lights and candle flames and happy laughter reached the foyer.

  Slade took off his Stetson, hanging it on his antler peg, before settling into his favorite spot on the hearth. Kally left her spot beside Emma on the sofa and came to sit in front of him, with her shoulders nestled between his knees. Her sweet smell of jasmine and lavender mingled with the fire and the holiday goodies. He leaned closer, burying his face in her hair by her neck and took in a deep whiff before brushing aside the blonde strands to kiss her cheek.

  Rosie stood in the middle of a loose circle of his family’s dearest friends and a tingle of excitement climbed his spine. He nudged Kally and then whispered in her ear. “This is one of my favorite Christmas traditions.”

  Her hand slid down his calf to wrap his ankle in her fingers. “What is?”

  “Shhh. Just watch and listen.”

  Kally snuggled deeper between his knees and he rested his arms on her shoulders, fingers playing with her hair. Rosie raised her hands, and in her Native American tongue blessed the gathering. Then, she reached into a pouch hidden beneath her sweater and cast dried powders on the flames behind him. A heady, pungent aroma soon filled the living room. “This is a gift Slade requested, an age old story to tell, one of many versions. This is the one passed on by my people.”

  “Many summers ago there were two brothers who lived in a village with their mother and father. They were good boys, but they sometimes wandered from the village. Their mother worried about this and warned them, ‘Do not roam far from our village, for great Manitou will stalk and eat you, and I will die of a broken heart’.

  “The boys were afraid of Great Manitou, for his fearsome claws and terrible teeth, so they listened to their mother and stayed close by.

  “One day, while trying to catch a rabbit to eat, the boys wandered farther than they ever had from their home. They realized they did not know the country they were in and looked back towards their village. They could not see it. What they did see was Great Manitou stalking them. His fur was thick and shining like the sun. His teeth were long, like the roots of tree branches by the river. His claws were sharp like the arrows their father lashed to their bows. The boys were terrified and they began to run, but Great Manitou was fast. With his wide leaping runs he was almost upon them in no time. The youngest boy could see foam dripping from his mouth, for Great Manitou thought of the delicious treats the boys would make in his tummy.

  “The oldest boy began to pant and falter. His brother tried to pull him along, but Great Manitou was coming closer and closer. The youngest boy turned his face to the sky and said, “Oh great Sky Father, protect us from mighty Manitou, so our mother’s heart will not be broken.”

  “Sky Father heard the boys’ cries and the ground beneath them began to grow and grow. It rose into the clouds. Higher it grew, until they were looking down at the earth below when Great Manitou reached the slippery slopes of the hill Sky Father created.

  “Great Manitou jumped and leapt at the boys. He was not able to reach his lunch. He growled in frustration and anger, and began to claw at the sides of the hill. Each time he slipped back to the bottom, leaving deep marks in the wake of his claws.

  “The boys watched in terror while Great Manitou clawed and pawed at the hill for two sunsets. Then, Great Manitou became exhausted from his efforts. He curled into a ball and fell asleep.

  “Quietly, the boys climbed down the hill. On tiptoe, they passed the large sleeping bear. When they were safely past, they ran back to the village as fast as they could, right into the arms of their worried mother and they never wandered too far from the village again until they were braves.

  “Great Manitou woke many sunrises later, angry his lunch was gone. He stalked off to find more foolish boys. Behind him, he left the great grooved hill. A reminder to all of his great strength.”

  The gathering was silent a moment out of respect, then erupted into applause. Kally trembled against Slade’s legs, then reached back to pull him closer. “What an amazing story. I can see why you asked for it. I could almost see Great Manitou and feel the power Sky Father used to protect the boys.”

  He kissed her again. She definitely belongs here with us.

  The rest of the evening was spent with people sharing their favorite holiday memories. Emma shared a story of the birth of a grandchild on Christmas Eve and the blessing the new life brought to their family. Grace recounted a tale of a Christmas program in their old church. Their husbands had more humorous tales about childhood memories, then Slade told the story of Grandpa Carlson’s last sleigh ride. When it came to Kally, she smiled, wiped a tear away and said, “Right now. No holiday has ever been this special.”

  The clock chimed midnight and the gathering rose, giving hugs and good night wishes to everyone, before slipping in ones and twos out the front door to head home. Kally stood by Slade’s side, her arm around the small of his back, waving to the ranchers, and when the last person left, she shut the door and yawned. “Wow. What a full, wonderful, magical day.”

  “Yes it was, and tomorrow will be special too.”

  “Promise?”

  “Absolutely.” He took her by the shoulders and guided her toward the stairs. “Now you get upstairs and get in bed. I’ll be up in a minute.”

  “No, sir.” She wriggled from his grasp and walked toward the back door. “I want to see if I can get Tom to come to the door.”

  “His name is Tom?”

  “Of course. What other name could possibly fit?”

  She stepped out onto the porch, chanting her normal “Here kitty, kitty” call. The cat appeared from underneath the porch steps and trotted right up to Kally. She patted his head and fed him a few scraps. Then when he rubbed against her knees, she scooped the cat into her arms. Slade half expected the cat to pitch a hissy fit. He didn’t. When Kally carried him to the door, Slade braced for a mewling scratch fest, but the cat lay in Kally’s arms like he was meant to be there. Slade eased open the screen door not to spook the cat, and then shut the door behind Kally. “Look at you, mighty lion tamer.”

  Slade could have sworn the cat cussed him, even though no noise came from the orange lump of fur except purring. Kally set the cat down on the sofa and then wrapped her fingers in h
is. “Come on, Slade, let’s go to bed.”

  “Exactly what I’d encouraged a few minutes ago,” he teased.

  “Well…I wanted to get my kitty in the house. I’ve always dreamed of a Christmas morning with a cat on my lap.”

  “Well, I’m all for making your dreams come true.”

  She winked at him and it made his heart pound. “Maybe tomorrow…” She pulled him to the stairs. “Tonight I just want you to hold me.”

  “Happy to oblige, darlin’.”

  Kally disappeared into the bath, and Slade hurried down the hall and into his pajama pants. Then, creeping down the stairs while the bath water ran, he pulled a present from the supply closet and hid it behind the tree before he turned off the holiday lights and blew out the candles. He surveyed the room and his two hidden presents. Yup, tomorrow is going to be a great day.

  Slade and Kally: Letting Go of the Reins, Book 1

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sleep was elusive. I drifted off long enough to dream of Sue’s family showing up on the Fourth Moon’s front step with a huge truck behind them, but then Slade rolled over and shook me from the vision. I struggled to recapture it. Eventually, I gave up the fight, and around two in the morning I crept from the bed.

  Slade dragged my pillow into his arms and nestled back into sleep. I pulled the door nearly closed and crept down the stairs. Soft shadows nestled in the corners of the great room and sat like pillows atop the cushions on the furniture. Darkness swathed the vaulted ceiling and the windows framed still life pictures of a snowy, moonlit Wyoming night.

  Stopping beside the window at the bottom of the stairs, I drew a heart in the frost like I’d done the first morning on the ranch. The hewn log wall supported me while I watched the snowflakes dance in a lazy spiraling ballet. Branches from the pines lining the side yard sagged under the weight of the snow and blue-white light washed the world in ethereal tones. Winter had never been so beautiful.

  I wrapped the quilt tighter around my shoulders and tiptoed to the Christmas tree beside the fireplace. I tapped my foot on the Christmas tree light switch and smiled when the lights flared to life.

  A peppermint candy cane beckoned, and I plucked it from the branches. The metal tool was cold in my hand when I stirred the coals in the fireplace and added a few logs. Flames soon leapt and crackled, casting light and shadows across the furniture and tree. I soaked up the heat from the flames and then pulled the blanket close and sat on the fireside sofa. The silent grace of a Yule night, the beauty of twinkling lights and a dancing fire—if ever there was a magick Christmas moment for me, this was it. I pulled my feet up under the quilt and then cuddled into the pillows in the corner.

  Tom joined me on the sofa nestling in behind my feet. Time ticked away on the clock, the brass pendulum swinging to the tune of Christmas carols in my mind. I sat there for over an hour, bathed in fire glow and Christmas glory. Then, incandescent glow poured down the stairwell, and I knew I was no longer the only one awake. Slade’s slippers, pajama pants and then naked torso appeared in slow succession when he walked down the stairs. The heart on the window must have caught his eye, because he drew another heart interlocked with mine. He resembled a boy, with his tussled hair and huge yawn, but concern shadowed his blue eyes. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked at me. “Kally, are you okay?”

  The kitty leapt from his place of comfort and ducked under the sofa. I couldn’t suppress the smile growing on my face. Even though my family was back in Michigan and I doubted that any of the presents beneath the tree were for me, it was the best Christmas Eve I’d had in many years. “More than okay, Slade.”

  A silly, too feminine tear trickled down my cheek and betrayed my emotions. I wiped it away and reached a hand out in invitation. “Will you sit with me?”

  “Of course. You don’t even need to ask.”

  I shifted closer to the corner and lifted the quilt for Slade to snuggle in the warm flannel folds with me. His arm settled around my shoulders and felt like nature had carved it only to cradle me. My gaze trailed from the fire to the Christmas tree. I wrapped my fingers in his free hand, pulled it across my chest to my face and wiped a fresh tear away with his warm fingers. I wanted to share the gratefulness in my heart. To make him understand how the comfort, safety and love he had so freely given had changed me. The words would not come. I kissed his knuckles and he held me closer to him, my head on his shoulder, my heart resting in his hands.

  Neither of us spoke. We didn’t need to. I felt him with every fiber of my being, and I knew he’d grown to love me. I only hoped he sensed the same emotions in me. When he rubbed his cheek against my hair and then kissed the top of my head, I knew. Wyoming had bewitched me. Slade had won my heart.

  The rising sun warmed the window view, changing the world from midnight blues, to azure and gold. The irascible ginger barn cat I’d coaxed into becoming my house cat joined us on the sofa. Thomas curled into a ball on my lap and purred. Slade snorted.

  “Now I know you are meant to be here. No one’s ever been able to get that monster cat to cuddle, let alone come into the house.”

  I stroked Tom’s ears, and down the back of his head to his neck. “He’s a lover kitty, not a monster.”

  “For the past three years, I thought his job was to remind me he was too good for me.”

  “Well, I am nice to him, and he loves me.” I stroked a finger along the cat’s back and then up Slade’s arm to stroke the stubble on his cheek.

  “Makes two of us then.”

  The words were simple and no less right and proper than the fire in the grate. Slade shooed the cat from my lap and took my chin in his hand. I turned to face him. His eyes were shadow blue in the morning light, the stubble dark on his chin and his smile so soft it almost hurt. I would never forget his expression, or the words to come next. “I do, Kally. I knew the minute I saw you wrapped in my mother’s quilt and my thermal underwear shirt, that I would love you forever.”

  Tears welled up unbidden, but they did not dampen my smile. I never truly lived until the moment he said he loved me, and I would live forever in his arms. “I cherish you, Slade. I love you more than I thought I would ever be able to. You rescued me from pain and misery and gave me this perfect life.”

  My words were minute in comparison to the passionate kiss Slade pressed to my lips. I wrapped my arms around him and melted into his embrace. He stood, holding me tight to his chest and smothering me with kisses. With my arms around Slade’s shoulder, my toes barely brushed the floor when he walked backward toward the Christmas tree. Inches from the evergreen branches, Slade loosened his grip and helped me to stand, even though I was flying inside. He reached into the tree, pulled a small package from one of the branches and placed it in my hands. “Merry Christmas, Kally.”

  The package was small, the wrapping plain brown and tied with twine, like the rest of the gifts under the tree, only a ginger tabby cat ornament hung from the bow. I had to smile when I untied the ornament and hung it on the tree. “My own little tomcat.”

  The twining fell away, and the paper came off in one piece. Slade took the simple wrappings and crumpled them, tossing the ball into the fire. His eyes twinkled in the early morning light. “No going back now.”

  “Never.”

  The velvet-covered box was not new. The nap had been worn away on the corners. When I opened the lid the little metal hinges creaked. A silver ring sat nestled into the crease in the cushion. I lifted it from the bedding and held it up to the Christmas tree lights. The band was simple, but the mount was ornate, a wreath of ivy around an opaque stone. It was mottled, pinks and browns, and identical to any pebble the snowplows had pushed up, only highly polished. I ran a fingertip over the glassy surface before Slade took the ring from me and slipped it onto the ring finger on my left hand.

  “This was my mother’s.” He stroked the skin of my hand. “The day my father signed the papers on the Fourth Moon, he picked up the first pebble he found. He brought
the stone to a jeweler and had it mounted in the setting my mother liked. This was his promise to her. His promise of love and warmth on cold nights, of a good, simple life together on this ranch.

  “I want to love you and give you a peaceful life.” He dropped to one knee before me. “Marry me, Kally.”

  Tears fell in a mad rush, and though I cried, I laughed. “Nothing would make me happier, Slade. Nothing.”

  “So…you’re saying yes, then?”

  “Yes! A million times, yes.” Thomas jumped from the couch then and trotted toward the back door. “Well I’d better take care of my kitty.”

  “Yep you should. I’m just a little terrified the bugger messed something while we were sleeping.”

  I snorted. “Ye of little faith.”

  After the life altering moment, we fell into our roles, he off to the chores, me to usher the cat outdoors and then get coffee and a pan of sweet rolls going. The house was abnormally quiet, but it only added to the solemn magic characterizing the season, and how Slade’s love had changed me. I was in silent awe of how I had changed, toughened up and yet softened, how I had let go of fear and embraced love.

  Nose seeming to have sweet roll radar, Slade walked in as the timer rang. “Rolls done?”

  “Just coming out of the stove.” I donned oven mitts and pulled out the tray of sticky rolls. Slade peeked around the door, a jagged rip in his coat sleeve very noticeable. My heart leapt into my throat. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” He pulled the rip in his sleeve open to demonstrate the lack of damage beneath. “Zeus got me. George and I were joking around, hooting and hollering and Zeus got agitated. He doesn’t like loud noises. He was tossing his head and I got too close.”

  “Zeus?”

  A silly smile lit his face. “Zeus is my favorite bull. Big, black, damn good stud. Okay, enough about the rip in my jacket. Let’s get a shower.”