A Very Cowboy Christmas

by Kim Redford

  “Wait,” Dune said. “We don’t know the extent of her injuries.”

  “She’s strong.” Slade leaned over and turned off the ATV’s sputtering engine. “Maybe she just had the breath knocked out of her.”

  Sydney gently pushed Storm’s hair back from her face and saw freckles standing out in stark contrast against her too-pale skin covered by a light coating of fine dust. She felt her stomach churn in alarm as she put two fingers on the pulse point of Storm’s slender neck. When she found a strong heartbeat, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  At Sydney’s touch, Storm blinked her eyes, appeared confused, and tried to inhale. She gasped, opening her hazel eyes wide in alarm as she struggled to recover her breath.

  Sydney stroked her daughter’s forehead to calm her. “I know it feels weird, but you’ll get your breath back in a minute. You’re okay. I’m here. Slade’s here. Dune, too.”

  “You’re safe,” Slade added in his deep, comforting voice. “We’re taking good care of you. You’ve got your own personal EMTs right here.”

  Sydney continued to stroke Storm’s face gently while she watched anxiously as her daughter struggled to catch her breath.

  Finally Storm inhaled, loudly rasping air into her lungs. She coughed several times as color returned to her face. She shuddered as she sat up, glanced wildly around, saw the ATV, and threw herself into her mother’s arms, shivering and shaking all over.

  “It’s okay.” Sydney cradled her close, rocking back and forth to comfort her just as she’d done when she was a baby. “You’re safe now. All is well. You’re safe.”

  Storm started crying, and soon tears cut a wet path through the dust on her cheeks. She twisted around and pointed toward the four-wheeler with a shaky finger. “I almost—like Daddy, gone—and never coming back and never trimming our Christmas tree and never putting up holiday lights and never surprising Granny with presents and never eating Uncle Slade’s pecan pie.” She hugged Sydney tighter and cried harder.

  “At least she put my pie on a level with Christmas,” Slade said in an attempt to ease the tension with humor, but his words fell flat as he shook his head in dismay. “Storm, I’ll make you your own special pecan pie for Christmas.”

  She raised her head and looked at him with tear-swollen eyes. “For sure?”

  “You know I’d do anything for my favorite niece, don’t you?”

  “I’m your only niece.” Storm gave her usual reply to their long-standing joke, lending a normal air to the abnormal situation.

  “Now you’re talking like my Storm.” Slade glanced at Sydney and gave her a relieved smile.

  Sydney nodded to let him know she appreciated his humor in helping to bring Storm back to her usual self. She continued to stroke her daughter’s long hair, holding her close, murmuring comforting words as much for Storm’s sake as for her own. The accident could have been so much worse. They were lucky.

  “Good thing we’re trained as EMTs,” Dune said. “She looks shaken up, but I’d say it’s nothing a little tender loving care won’t cure. Still, we’d better take her to the clinic and get her checked out.”

  “Absolutely,” Sydney agreed, holding Storm as if she’d never let her go. She simply couldn’t bear the thought of anything bad happening to her daughter. Lots of folks took tumbles off ATVs, for one reason or another, but they usually got up, got back on, and went about their business. Right now, she didn’t want Storm anywhere near a four-wheeler, but she knew that wasn’t the right attitude. If you got bucked off a horse, you got back on, the sooner the better, or fear might paralyze you throughout life. Still, until a doctor pronounced Storm okay, she’d keep her away from ATVs.

  Slade pointed toward Wildcat Road. “We’d better get her checked over, but the vet’s closer than town.”

  “What? A vet?” Sydney shot her brother a quelling look before refocusing on Storm.

  “It’d be quicker. I mean, I’d trust my body to Sue Ann Bridges,” Slade said as he tried to explain his suggestion and faltered to a stop.

  Sydney was so surprised at Slade’s idea that she gave him a closer look. “Sue Ann’s good, yes. But are you going to see her more often than is strictly necessary for our animals?”

  Slade shrugged and glanced away. “I’m just saying she’s an excellent vet, and she’d probably take a quick look at Storm.”

  “Why don’t we just take Storm to the clinic and not put Sue Ann into an awkward position,” Dune intervened in a conciliatory voice.

  “Yeah,” Slade quickly agreed. “I just didn’t want to wait.”

  “Thanks,” Sydney said to ease them past her brother’s suggestion. He normally preferred flashy rodeo cowgirls, but maybe he was getting healed enough and past his bull-riding days enough that he was developing an itch to expand his horizons. She hoped that was the case, but she’d just wait and see. For now, she’d put Slade and his love life on a back burner. Storm needed her full attention.

  “I don’t want to go to the clinic,” Storm said in a small voice. “I want to go home and go to bed.”

  “I’ll take you straight home after the clinic.”

  Storm pointed with one finger of her small hand at the four-wheeler. “I won’t ride that thing again. It’s mean.”

  Sydney felt alarm bells go off in her head. This wasn’t like her fearless Storm at all. “In time, I’m sure—”

  “And no more horses.” Storm put her arms protectively around her waist and shuddered, as if in horror. “They’re big and dangerous. I could get hurt riding them.”

  Now Sydney was even more worried about her daughter. Storm was going straight from no fear to overwhelming fear. She didn’t know the words to make this right, so she reached out to draw Storm closer to comfort her.

  Storm shrugged away and quickly stood up. “You can’t make me ride anything.”

  “Nobody’s going to make you do anything that’ll hurt you,” Dune said in a calm, steady voice.

  “That’s right,” Slade agreed. “Fact of the matter, I’m not much for riding myself these days.”

  Storm gave him a quick nod as she took a deep breath. “You get it.”

  “I do, too,” Sydney said, standing up and brushing off her sadly stained and wrinkled dress. “We’re here to protect you.”

  Storm tossed her long hair over one shoulder, sending out a cloud of dust. She walked over and kicked the ATV’s front tire. “You can take that thing to the garbage dump.”

  “How about I keep it at my place for the time being?” Slade asked.

  Storm cast a narrow-eyed look his way. “Okay. But it’s mean. I wouldn’t ride it.”

  Sydney reached out to Storm but dropped her hand to her side. She couldn’t push or pull her daughter, not now, not till the fear ratcheted down to a controllable level. She pressed her lips together to keep from crying for Storm, wanting to make everything right but knowing it’d take time.

  “It’s okay,” Dune said in a low tone and grasped her hand, twining their fingers together.

  She glanced up at him and squeezed his hand to let him know she appreciated his comfort.

  “Storm, how about we go into town and get you checked out,” Slade said in his deep, rumbling voice. “Not that you need it, but moms will be moms, so let’s give Sydney a break and reassure her.”

  Storm gave him a long, assessing once-over before she nodded slowly in agreement.

  “After that, why don’t you come down to the café and help me make pies? Would you like that?” Slade added.

  “Or you can come back home,” Sydney said, not wanting to let go of her child so quickly. “I’ll make soup, and you can go to bed, or we can watch a movie—whatever you want to do.”

  “I’m not a baby just ’cause I was riding a mean four-wheeler.”

  “I know you’re a big girl now,” Sydney agreed, even as she felt as if she was l
osing ground in keeping her daughter safe.

  “She might want to keep busy,” Slade said in a gentle tone. “I know I did when I took a plunge off that bull.”

  “Bet I can make my own pecan pie.” Storm thrust her chin out and her shoulders back.

  “I don’t doubt it a minute,” Slade agreed.

  Dune gave Sydney’s fingers another squeeze, then stepped away from her. “Slade, if you’ll get that ATV out of sight, I’ll drive Sydney and Storm into town.”

  Slade gave a snort, sounding like an irritated bull. “She’s my niece. I can take her to—”

  “I know,” Dune quickly agreed even as he inclined his head toward the four-wheeler. “But aren’t you going to deal with—”

  “That’s right.” Slade gave Sydney a look that silently asked if the plan was okay with her.

  “Good idea,” Sydney agreed, feeling shaky enough that she didn’t want to chance driving into town. “Dune’s got his big dually here.”

  “I’ll lower the back seat so Storm can lie down on the drive to the clinic,” Dune said.

  Storm gave Dune a little smile. “I like your fancy pickup.” She dusted off her jeans with the palms of her hands, sending dirt flying outward. She grimaced as she pulled a twig out of her hair. “Maybe I oughta get a shower first.”

  “Later.” Sydney clasped her daughter’s hand, feeling as if they were all getting back on track. “Let’s go to the clinic. After that, we’ll see how our day goes.”

  “I can tell you how it’s going to go,” Storm said, swinging their hands together. “I get a lollipop at the clinic, and then I get pie and ice cream at the café.”

  Sydney couldn’t keep from chuckling in relief that Storm sounded much more normal. When Dune and Slade joined her laughter, she felt even better.

  “Not funny.” Storm gave them all a quelling look. “Don’t you want to make a little girl happy?”

  “I can see how it’s going to go,” Slade said. “She’s going to milk this for all it’s worth.”

  “It’s worth a try anyway,” Sydney added in her best mommy voice.

  “You bet,” Dune agreed with a wink at Storm.

  Storm simply rolled her eyes at them and then took a step toward Slade’s house up on the hill.

  Sydney held her daughter’s hand, feeling as if she never wanted to let her go, as Dune fell into step with them. Slade walked over to the ATV and sat down behind the wheel. She gave him a nod of encouragement, knowing they wouldn’t see that vehicle again till Storm was ready for it.

  As she passed the four-wheeler with Storm in tow, she felt a shudder pass through her daughter’s body as if she were communicating her almost overwhelming fear and anxiety to her mother.

  Sydney felt renewed heartbreak. Storm’s new-found fear was as worrisome as her lack of fear. She needed to help her daughter develop steady confidence in her ability to handle life. But how was she going to do it? Maybe Slade was right. If Storm developed confidence in other areas—perhaps baking pies—maybe she would come to feel safe riding an ATV or horse again.

  It was Christmastime. She had already received a great miracle. She hoped she didn’t seem too greedy by praying for another one, but if she did seem greedy, that was okay, because she’d do anything to help her daughter.

  For now, she simply needed to take care of Storm. She took another step toward Slade’s house and yelped as pain suddenly radiated upward from the bottoms of her feet. She dropped Dune’s hand, and then Storm’s, so she could bend over and put her hands on her knees for support as she took short breaths, trying to control the discomfort.

  She remembered how she’d kicked off her shoes and run across the pasture with no heed to her own safety. She must have blocked out her body’s pain receptors until she knew her daughter was safe. Now she was paying the price as her feet screamed in protest at the abuse.

  “What is it?” Dune put a hand on her back and leaned over her.

  “Mommy?” Storm hunkered down and peered up at Sydney’s face with her brows drawn together in worry.

  “Are you okay?” Slade hurried over to them.

  “Shoes.” Sydney took shallow breaths that left little room for words. “Hurt my feet.”

  “I saw her throw off her shoes in the pasture, so she could run faster.” Dune rubbed Sydney’s back in comforting circular motions.

  “She needs to go to the clinic, too.” Slade glanced back up the pasture. “Who knows what she stepped on?”

  “Is she bad hurt?” Storm patted Sydney’s face.

  “I’ll be okay.” She reassured her daughter as best she could at the moment.

  “We’ll get you a lollipop, too,” Storm said.

  “Thanks,” she huffed against the pain.

  “You’re not walking another step.” Dune gently lifted her with his strong arms and cradled her against his broad chest. “We’re taking you straight to the doctor.”

  She didn’t voice a word of protest at him taking charge. She simply tucked her face against his shoulder and gave a loud sigh of relief that she was no longer standing on her feet. For just a little while, she trusted she could lay her burdens in his capable hands.

  “Maybe I ought to drive them to the clinic.” Slade put his big hands on Storm’s small shoulders.

  “It might be better if you told your family and put up the ATV while we went to the clinic,” Dune said.

  “I’ll need my purse. It’s in the car,” Sydney said. “And please don’t forget my shoes. They’re up—”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get them,” Slade said. “You’re right, Dune. Besides, I need to get into work. Just make sure these two want for nothing. And call if you need anything.”

  “Will do,” Dune agreed.

  “When you’re done, meet us at the café,” Slade added.

  “Mommy gets pie and ice cream, too. Right?” Storm said in a no-nonsense voice.

  “Right,” Slade agreed as he clasped Storm’s hand. “Now, let’s get on up to the dually. I’ll fix the back seat so you two can lie down and get comfortable.”

  “Thanks.” Sydney took a deeper breath as the pain eased up in the comfort of Dune’s strong arms. “And don’t think about making Christmas plans without me. I’ll be back in the saddle in no time at all.”

  Chapter 11

  Dune had wanted Sydney in his arms forever, it felt like, but he hadn’t wanted her injured to make it happen. He hoped to hell she wasn’t too badly cut or bruised on the soles of her feet. He was anxious to get her, as well as Storm, to the clinic and make sure they were both completely all right. Until then, tension rode him hard, as if he was on the back of a half-tamed horse.

  He figured the only upside to their predicament was Sydney cuddled against his chest and dependent on him in a way he could never have imagined in all the time he’d known her. She’d been too strong, too independent, too sassy to let anybody get this close—particularly a cowboy with a yen for her.

  Slade and Storm led him out of the pasture, through the open gate, and up to his dually. Fortunately, he’d left his pickup unlocked, and he always carried a couple of fleece blankets on the back seat just in case. Sydney felt a little too cool to the touch. He didn’t want her edging into shock, so he’d wrap her in one of the blankets.

  Slade opened the back door, pulled out the fleece, set it on the hood, and lowered the leather seat to make a flat, carpet-covered area. He lifted Storm and set her on the makeshift bed. He patted the top of her head, wrapped a blanket around her small body, made sure she lay down, and closed the door. He glanced at Dune, gesturing with his head to go around to the other side of the pickup.

  When Dune got there, Slade already had the back seat door open, so the vehicle was ready and waiting for Sydney. Dune didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to keep her safe and close forever. But he knew better. Safe was getting her quickly
to the clinic. He gently set her down, making sure he didn’t jar her feet, and took a quick look at her injuries. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t terribly hurt. He felt a vast sense of relief, so he grabbed the other blanket off the hood of the dually, wrapped it around her shoulders, and squeezed her hand in comfort.

  “All done.” He shut the door, stepped back, and glanced at Slade.

  “I’ll pick up a pair of thick socks and athletic shoes at her place. I’ll drop them off along with her purse at the clinic,” Slade said.

  “Thanks. She’ll need them.”

  “And take it real easy on the drive out,” Slade warned in a low voice. “It’s bumpy as all get-out to Wildcat Road.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Slade rolled his eyes. “It’s just one more thing on the ranch that needs to get done, but not before Christmas.”

  “I hear you.” Dune opened the driver’s side door and looked back. “I’ll take good care of them.”

  “You better, or you’ll have the Duval and Steele clans both on your case,” Slade said in a half-jesting tone.

  “Trust me, that’s the last thing I want, but more than anything, I want Sydney and Storm to be okay.”

  Slade gave a crooked smile. “They will be. I’d call this a minor blip on the road of life.”

  “Yeah.” Dune nodded in agreement, and then he hesitated as he shared an unspoken moment of harmony with Slade that acknowledged they’d both spent way too many long miles on bad roads that had brought them to this time and place. Another acknowledgment of silent agreement was that their loved ones—women and children in particular—were to be protected at all costs. In this day and age, cowboys didn’t usually come right out and say it, but the instinct and training were as old as the hills.

  “Right.” Slade cleared his throat and moved back, breaking the quiet moment of truth. “I trust you to take care of them.”

  “I won’t let you down.” Dune stepped up, buckled in, started the engine, and backed away from Slade.