Hope for Christmas (Hope Ranch Book 1)

by Elizabeth Maddrey

  Tentatively, Cyan followed suit. She was softer than he’d imagined. A whuff of warm air traveled over his hand. “Hey, girl. Hi.”

  “Who’s out—oh, hey Calvin.” The man stared at Cyan for a moment before nodding. “Cyan, right?”

  “Yeah. And you’re Morgan?”

  The man nodded. “Nice to meetcha. This little scamp showing you the ropes?”

  “That was the plan. We’ve met Blaze.”

  “She’s never met a stranger. I’ll bring you some apple slices so no one feels left out. Give a shout if you need something. Calvin pretty much knows what to do. No going in with any of them, right champ?”

  “Yes sir, Mr. Morgan.”

  Morgan grinned and disappeared back where he’d been working. After a moment, he reappeared with a bag that he handed to Calvin. “It’s good to see you back home.”

  Calvin frowned. “You knew I was sick?”

  “Of course. I had to figure out why my helper was missing.” Morgan winked at the boy. “But you’re all good now, right?”

  Calvin shrugged. “I guess. Lotta needles and a pokey pen and it makes Mama cry.”

  Cyan’s heart broke for the boy and his mom. “She’ll be all right. It’s hard to see someone you love hurting. Your mom? It’s pretty obvious she loves you a lot.”

  Morgan nodded—approval? “I heard we’re hooking up the sleigh later for some tree cutting. You make sure you teach Cyan here the right way to choose a tree.”

  “You can’t come?” Calvin frowned.

  “Nope. Joaquin, Tommy, and I all went out and got trees yesterday. You know we have work to do.”

  Calvin sighed. “Mr. Hewitt never lets me drive like you do.”

  Cyan hid a grin. He’d have a chat with his grandfather and see if he couldn’t work something out.

  Morgan ruffled the boy’s hair. “You’ll still have fun. Why don’t you start distributing those apple slices though? Everybody’s getting anxious.”

  It was true. More horse noses appeared in their stalls, big brown eyes turned in their direction. Morgan gave a sketch of a salute before disappearing again. Cyan glanced down at Calvin and tapped his shoulder. “So, how do we do this?”

  “You’ve never fed a horse Mr. Cyan?”

  “Never.”

  The boy grinned and pulled apple pieces from the bag. “It’s easy. You just gotta not be scared. Watch.”

  Cyan stood a step behind while Calvin offered the first slice of apple to Blaze. She lipped it gently from his palm and sniffed around for more.

  “Now you try.”

  Cyan took the slice of apple and mimicked the motion Calvin had made. It tickled ever so slightly when Blaze took the food. He grinned down at Calvin. “I see why you do this.”

  Calvin giggled. “Come on. You’ll want to meet Socks, too.”

  They made their way down the row of stalls, Calvin chattering about each horse as they rubbed noses and offered apple slices. For his first experience with horses, it was pleasant. Calvin was a good guide. Did Maria realize how special her son was? Of course she did. She wasn’t stupid or oblivious. From what he’d observed, she was the kind of mom who was involved in her kid’s life because she wanted to be.

  When the apple was gone, they dropped the bag off in what looked like an office of some sort there in the stables and headed back toward the main house. Calvin was slowing as he walked.

  “You okay?”

  Calvin nodded. “Getting tired.”

  Cyan frowned. “Want a piggyback ride the rest of the way?”

  “Really? Okay!”

  Cyan hunched down and caught Calvin’s arms as he jumped up on his back. He hitched him up, settling his weight better, and hooked his arms around the boy’s legs. “Hang on.”

  They reached Calvin’s cabin just as Maria was stepping out the front door.

  “Oh, no. Calvin. Are you okay?” Maria rushed over and reached for her son, tugging him down from Cyan’s back.

  “He got a little tired on the walk back. I thought a ride might be more fun.”

  “It was, Mama. He’s good at piggyback rides.” Calvin grinned up at him. “Thanks, Mr. Cyan.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Maria turned and her deep brown eyes met and held his for one long heartbeat before she broke the contact and squatted at Calvin’s level. “Let’s go check your blood sugar, then, if you’re okay, maybe you can help me with the potatoes for tomorrow.”

  Cyan tucked his hands in his pocket. “Anything I can do to help?”

  Maria shook her head. “No, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “Okay. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. See ya, Calvin.” Cyan waved and turned toward the main house. Maria seemed determined to do it all on her own. It was admirable. And infuriating. Maybe it was better—he had to leave for New York after Christmas, there was no point in getting attached. Except that he’d be back. And Calvin had already stolen his heart. His mom wasn’t too far behind.

  * * *

  Cyan woke early and wandered out into the living room. The enormous tree they’d found and chopped—and hadn’t that been more work than he’d expected?—stood in the corner. Maria had begged off from the excursion, leaving the choosing of a tree for their cabin completely in Calvin’s hands. Wayne had steered him toward something appropriate for the smaller space and the boy had been delighted to show Cyan how to use the saw to get through the trunk. Both trees had one side that was fairly sparse, but as Betsy pointed out, they went in a corner so it didn’t matter.

  When they’d returned home, Maria had bustled Calvin off to bed. Betsy said she was too tired to decorate, so the tree had been set in its stand and left. Presumably they’d spend a good bit of time this afternoon stringing lights and hanging decorations. The whole thing wasn’t something Cyan usually bothered with.

  Growing up, Christmas had been an extravaganza of gifts. His parents had pushed the idea of Santa, going so far as to insist the kids were wrong when they started to figure out the truth of where all the presents came from. Only grudgingly had they ever admitted the truth, and even then, he’d had to play along or get nothing.

  Since he’d left home, he took the time to send something small to each of his siblings, but other than that? It was just a built-in day off. Now, having started reading through the Gospels, he was beginning to get a glimpse of why Azure thought it mattered. If it was true that Jesus—God made man—had come to Earth to save people, then his birth would absolutely be something worth celebrating. It was the beginning of the whole story.

  He sighed and settled in one of the comfortable leather chairs, digging his cell out of his pocket and thumbing open the Bible app. A notice at the top congratulated him for connecting with God’s word thirty days in a row. Thirty? Really? In many ways, he’d started reading simply so he could tell Azure he was without lying. He hated to lie. Now it seemed to have become a habit. And a god who cared about people didn’t seem like such a far-fetched notion. But how did one go about believing?

  A light in the kitchen came on, and Cyan turned. Maria hadn’t seemed to notice him, so he took the opportunity to watch her move around, deftly prepping the coffee. She didn’t look like she’d slept all that well. That wasn’t to say she wasn’t still the most beautiful woman he’d seen in a long, long time, but she looked tired. And a little sad. Was it any wonder with what she’d gone through this week?

  She opened the fridge and pulled out an enormous turkey. After setting it on the counter she stood as if frozen for several seconds before covering her face with her hands. Her shoulders began to shake silently, and Cyan looked away. Should he go to her? Or would she be embarrassed?

  It didn’t matter. He stood, set his phone on the arm of the chair, padded into the kitchen, and wrapped his arms around her.

  Maria stiffened and struggled to pull away.

  “Shh. Hey.” Cyan loosened his grip and tried to catch her eye. “It’s okay to let go. Probably good for you.”

  Tears cont
inued to course down her cheeks as Maria shook her head. “It doesn’t help anything.”

  “Sure it does, it helps you let out stress before it eats you from the inside out. Add a friend’s shoulder into the mix and maybe you even feel better afterward.” He reached up and gently brushed the tears off her cheek.

  Her eyes widened.

  Cyan’s heart was lost. Did she have any idea how incredible she was? “I’d be honored to be that shoulder.”

  Maria took a deep breath, and her eyes shuttered. She was going to refuse. Push him away again. Without thinking, Cyan lowered his mouth to hers. He’d meant it to be a brief, friendly kiss, but her lips drew him in. He pulled her closer, watching as her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned in, her arms curving around his shoulders, her fingers toying with the ends of his hair. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t managed that haircut after all.

  Heart hammering in his chest, he eased back and searched her face.

  “I—I’m so sorry. I’m not sure what just happened.”

  Cyan smiled. “I’m pretty sure I kissed you. And you kissed me back.”

  She licked her lips. “Obviously. I shouldn’t have—this can’t—you know what? I have work I need to do. You’re in my way.”

  Her protests sounded half-hearted at best, but Cyan stepped back. “Can I just say one thing, and then I’ll get out of your hair?”

  Maria started ripping open the bag that held the turkey. “Go ahead.”

  “I’d like to be here for you, if you’ll let me. As a friend. As more. Either one, though after that kiss, I’d prefer the second option. Think about it, would you, and let me know?” Cyan touched her cheek and ran his thumb over her lips before he turned and left the kitchen. He could practically feel her gaze on him as he grabbed his cell off the chair in the living room and headed down the hall to the bedroom he was using. Everything in him screamed to turn around, but he fought it. He’d made a move, now it was up to her to make one in return.

  * * *

  “Come in.”

  Wayne pushed open the door to Cyan’s room and leaned on the jamb. “You coming out? There’s still coffee.”

  He needed coffee like he needed his next breath, but he hadn’t wanted to be alone with Maria again. Well, that wasn’t true. He absolutely wanted to be alone with Maria. She just might not feel the same. “How’s Thanksgiving lunch prep going? I don’t want to be in the way.”

  Wayne chuckled. “Turkey’s in the oven from the smell of it. I don’t imagine Maria’ll be back over for the rest of the food until about an hour before we eat. She usually makes the pies in her kitchen so Calvin can help or, if he gets bored, watch TV.”

  Cyan set his laptop aside and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “In that case, I could use coffee. Maybe a bowl of cereal?”

  “We can do both of those things.” Wayne fell into step beside him and cleared his throat. “I, uh, happened to be up early this morning.”

  Cyan’s whole body went hot.

  Wayne chuckled. “Seems to me that you gave her something to think about. Something she’s been missing in her life for a long time. I can’t say I’d mind having her become part of the family, but son, she’s got a strong faith. As much as I love you, I hope—and believe—she’s not going to let you into her life that way until you’ve at least accepted Jesus as your savior.”

  “Maybe you’d like to take a look at this while I fix myself some coffee.” Cyan swiped his phone and handed it to Wayne. After he’d left the kitchen, he’d texted Azure. It hadn’t been a huge surprise to find her already up and willing to chat. In the end, he wasn’t able to convince himself it was worth putting off anymore. Whatever objections—maybe concerns was a better word—he’d had about Christianity paled in comparison to the pull in his heart, so he’d asked her the question he’d asked himself that morning: how did he go about believing. He smiled as he took a mug down from the cabinet and filled it at the coffee pot.

  “You did this? Prayed to ask Jesus to be your savior?” Wayne held the phone back out to Cyan, his eyes shining.

  “This morning, yeah.”

  “Because of Maria?”

  “No, sir. I can’t say she wasn’t an influence at all, but then so are you and Grandma.” Cyan splashed peppermint mocha flavored creamer into his coffee and gave it a stir.

  Wayne pulled Cyan into a back-slapping hug and kissed his cheek. “You drink that coffee, I’m going to go find Betsy and tell her the news.”

  Cyan carried his mug to the bar. Should he get a bowl of cereal? He frowned and took an orange from the bowl of fruit on the counter instead. There was going to be a lot of food at lunch from what he’d seen in the fridge, might as well eat light now.

  “Really?” Betsy hurried across the living room her arms outstretched.

  Cyan ducked his head. Was everyone going to be like this? “It’s not a big deal, Grandma.”

  Her eyes filled. “Yes it is. Oh, honey.”

  Cyan glanced at Wayne, imploring him to step in. He’d already dealt with one crying woman today—and, granted, that had turned out well up to the end—but he couldn’t exactly solve the problem the same way with his grandmother.

  “Bets, give the boy some air, you’re embarrassing him.” Wayne took Betsy’s hand and tugged her closer so he could slip his arm around her waist.

  “You told Azure?”

  Cyan nodded at his grandmother. Apparently Wayne hadn’t been super forthcoming with details. Then again, maybe she hadn’t given him time. If he’d led off with the fact that Cyan had accepted Jesus, Betsy probably took off before he could get another word out.

  “And on Thanksgiving. Or, well, close enough. Something to be truly thankful for.” Betsy beamed at him before noticing the coffee and orange in front of him. “Are you just now having breakfast?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll let you get back to it. Wayne and I are going to haul out the decorations for the tree. Oh, Cyan.” Betsy cradled his cheek in her hand for one brief moment. “I’m so happy for you.”

  Cyan smiled as his grandparents left the room, arm in arm. He wanted that with someone. He reached for his coffee and sipped. Not just anyone. He wanted that with Maria. Was there any possibility she’d have him?

  8

  Maria forced herself to focus on the decorative edging of the apple pie. If she let her mind wander, her thoughts zoomed back to kissing Cyan in the kitchen of the main house. What had she been thinking?

  Obviously, she’d been thinking that, aside from not being a believer, Cyan was exactly her type. In many ways, he reminded her of Calvin’s father. If that wasn’t a recipe for disaster, she didn’t know what one was. She’d had chemistry with him, too. She was stronger in her faith now. Stronger as a person. Stronger, in general. An amazing kiss wasn’t going to get her to turn her back on everything she stood for.

  And that kiss had been amazing.

  She blew out a breath and glanced into the small living room where Calvin was hanging ornaments on the branches of the tree he could reach. “How’s it going, Cal?”

  He turned and looked at her, grinning. “Do you like it?”

  “Love it. You’re doing a great job.”

  “Are you almost ready to come help with the top part?”

  “Almost, baby. Let me get this pie in the oven.”

  He frowned. “I’m not a baby.”

  “You’re my baby.” Maria winked at her little boy and carried the apple pie to the oven. He was getting more and more bothered by her calling him baby these days. Or saying he was cute. Why did they have to grow up so fast?

  In her daydreams, she’d always pictured having a whole brood of kids. With more than one, there’d probably be at least one who’d put up with being called baby, wouldn’t there?

  Did Cyan want a big family?

  What was she thinking? It didn’t matter what Cyan wanted. He could worry about that with whatever woman he married. Or shacked up with. Or whatever. It wasn’t her concern,
so she didn’t care. She ignored the stabbing pain in her heart at the thought of Cyan with someone else and dusted her hands on her jeans.

  “All right, Cal, I’ll get the step ladder and you hand me up the ornaments. Deal?”

  “Deal!” Calvin danced in place while she dragged their step stool out of the coat closet and set it up beside the tree. He held up a clay circle with their handprints pressed into it. “This one first, Mama.”

  Maria smiled and looped the twine over a branch. Calvin had been three when they made that impression and it was always the first one he handed her when they got the top branches of the tree. “What’s next?”

  “This one.”

  She took the clay nativity and hung it.

  “Can we put the star up top?”

  “Don’t you want to get all the ornaments on first?” That was their usual pattern. It didn’t matter, really, but the potential break from tradition caused a little clutch in her heart.

  “Okay, if you want.” Calvin frowned at the pile of ornaments at his feet and selected the next for her to hang.

  It didn’t take long before they were down to the star. Maria wobbled a little as she stretched to reach the very top branch to affix the crowning glory. “You got a big one this year.”

  Calvin grinned. “Mr. Hewitt said the same thing. But Mr. Cyan helped cut it down. He has good muscles. Do you think he’ll help again next year?”

  A vision of herself wrapped in Cyan’s arms in front of a different Christmas tree flitted through Maria’s thoughts. She pushed it away and climbed down the step ladder. “I don’t know, honey. He doesn’t live here. Come on, we should check your blood sugar.”

  He pouted. “Do we have to?”

  “You know we do. Until we get a better handle on how this works, okay?” Maria loaded a test strip into the glucose monitor and prepped the spring-loaded pen that would prick his finger for the necessary blood drop. “Ready?”

  Calvin took a deep breath and turned his head.

  Maria fought the tears that tried to well up. She’d tested it on her own finger, so she knew it wasn’t really painful, but it was still not something a child should have to deal with. She squeezed his finger and pressed the drop onto the test strip. “See? All done. Go wash your hands again.”