The Christmas You Found Me, page 9
“I need to go double-check the cattle gate,” I tell him. “Leave the dishes for me, okay? You cooked, so I’ll clean.”
Checking the gate isn’t a lie, although I already checked it earlier today. I know because I have my list on my phone, and there’s a little mark next to “Evening chores, check the gate.” I just need to step away for a minute because good intentions aside, this is a lot. A lot of new. A lot of noise and brightness and laughter and changes and too-nice hugs.
I haven’t eaten dinner with someone else for over four months.
When I return to the house, I end up lingering on the porch, and I’m sitting on top of the wooden rail when my phone chirps. I glance down at the number calling and feel a rush of relief at the much-needed normalcy. Sometimes it feels like in a world of texting, Jess and I are the only ones who still like to talk on the phone.
“Hey, good timing,” I tell them. Somehow Jess always seems to know when to call.
“I was promised details, and so far, all I have are pictures of a cutie-pie making stockings in the barn,” they say by way of greeting. “Please tell me you’re in Aruba right now.”
“Nope, I’m sitting on the railing, listening to the moos. The moon is pretty tonight, isn’t it?”
“Spill, woman. I refuse to hit dating apps during cuffing season, so I’m living vicariously through you.”
“Cuffing season?”
“People who would rather be single but who lock it down with someone over the holidays so they won’t be alone. I mean, most don’t go so far as to marry them, but…”
I exhale a small laugh. “I think I went beyond a cuff and did a full ball and chain on this,” I joke as I watch Jerkface lumber toward the water trough.
Maybe something in my tone gives me away because they wait a moment for me to continue, and when I don’t, Jess asks, “Are you okay?”
“Yep.”
Nope. Nope nope nope.
“If you weren’t okay, would you tell me?”
My heart warms at their gentle prodding. “Don’t worry. Guy’s nice. I think I’m just still getting used to having male energy around the house again. He’s a good cook though.”
“The fact that he cooked is raising my opinion of him already. How about the stepdaughter?”
A sigh escapes me. “Emma’s perfect. Adorable. Brilliant and so much better to talk to than Barley.”
“A sack of potatoes is better to talk to than Barley. Let’s have dinner soon because I want to meet them. Oh hey, I’ve got to go. My date’s about to arrive.”
“I thought you weren’t participating in cuffing season,” I remind them.
“And I thought you were going be in Aruba right now.”
I can practically hear Jess waggling their eyebrows, so I end the call with a laugh and a “Be safe.”
Dating is scary for all of us, and I don’t know what I would do without them.
Jess and I have spent a lot of holidays together. I’m lost in memories of running around the yard with them and Charley as a child, throwing snowballs and making snow ponies in the front lawn, when I hear the squeak of the door opening behind me. I look over my shoulder, my hands tightening on the railing for balance.
Guy gives me a tentative smile as he sticks his head out. “Are you up for some company?”
“My porch is your porch,” I say, patting the railing in invitation.
He props the door open a bit so we can still hear Emma call, and he meets me at the rail. “I wasn’t sure if ‘check the gate’ meant check the gate, leave me alone, or follow me and let’s flirt with each other under the moonlight. Since I’m hoping for the last one, I brought a cookie to break the ice.”
I blink and then find myself laughing despite myself.
“Feeding me treats is a really good opener,” I promise, accepting the small bakery box he offers me. I know he’s joking about flirting, but when I look inside the box, I see a frosted sugar cookie shaped like a snowflake and dusted with blue and silver sugar crystals. “This might be the best pickup line I’ve ever gotten.”
“I wanted a snowman to continue the trend, but this was prettier.” He must have picked it up after work, because it’s from the best place in town and definitely not renal-diet friendly. “Is Emma still awake?” The cookie looks delicious, and I don’t want to eat it in front of her.
“Yep. She doesn’t want to take a bath before bed until she asks you a super-important question, which she wouldn’t share with me.” Guy sounds amused. “Now she’s watching Rudolph with Barley.”
“The cute cartoon one she had on earlier or the creepy puppet one with the terrifying snow monster?”
“Terrifying snow monster and island of misfit toys.”
I shudder. “That one stayed with me, but hey, more power to Emma if she likes it. Well, supersecret important questions take precedence.” I start to move, but Guy signals for me to stay.
“She’s happy on the couch, and I can see her through the window,” Guy promises. “She can wait a minute.”
“Is that how this works?” I ask him, earning a second, softer laugh.
“No, I pretty much come when called. If you manage to tell her no, teach me the trick of it. Em’s had me wrapped around her little finger since she was born.” He leans against the post next to me, looking out at the edges of the cleared part of the ranch. “Do you have to worry about bears out here?”
“Sometimes we get them and some wolves too, although they tend to stay higher in the range. More often than not, it’s a coyote causing trouble, going after the calves or colts. They’re why I have Dunkin and Paddlewhack.”
“The donkeys?”
“Yep. Dunkin and Paddlewhack, like all donkeys worth their salt, absolutely hate coyotes and will run them off the herds. I pair them with the cattle each season. Seriously cuts down on losses. Paddlewhack especially loves his calves, so try not to get him riled up.”
I wink at Guy to let him know I’m teasing…mostly.
“Why did you name him Paddlewhack?”
“Because if I ever tried to get him to work, I’d probably have to whack his butt with a boat paddle,” I joke. “Not that I ever would. Besides, guarding babies is what he’s the best at, so I leave him be, and he keeps them safe for me. It’s a good relationship, built on mutual understanding of each other’s limitations. I suck at running down coyotes, but I only have two feet.”
“You like animals a lot more than people, don’t you?”
“Depends on the people.” I lean over and nudge his shoulder with my elbow. “The donkeys never make me dinner.”
Guy gives me a kind look. “Never in my entire adult life has anyone but a drive-through window made me lunch. I think I stared at my lunch for a full minute before I realized it was actually mine.”
“What you’re saying is we’re the pretend-married version of Dunkin and Paddlewhack?”
“I can think of worse things to be.” Guy grins down at me. “Relationship goals, right?” He pauses, then adds, “Do you want some time out here alone? Emma can ask her supersecret question after a bath, despite what she’s convinced herself.”
“No, I’m good.” And I am, despite being overwhelmed. Probably because after a lot of years of not having someone care enough to check on me, I appreciate he’s out here.
Suddenly he blinks, then turns to look through the windows to where Emma is still sitting with Barley. “I grew up near Yellowstone,” Guy tells me. “There were always bears wandering in and out of town, so I’m used to double-checking for wildlife when I’m outside. But I never even thought to ask you if there were weapons in the house.”
“You mean you forgot something in between a wedding, moving, and starting a new job in a twenty-four-hour span?” I gently tease.
“Admittedly, it’s a pretty big oversight.”
I nod. “True. For what it’s worth, almost all the guns were Micah’s, and he took them with him. I only keep a rifle locked up in the gun safe in my closet in case an accident happens and I have to put one of my animals down. I don’t like guns, so I don’t keep it on me when I’m riding or working. I carry bear spray and an air horn instead. Both do a plenty-good job at keeping wildlife at bay. The code for the safe is my mom’s birthday, if you ever need it. I’ll write it down for you.”
Guy nods, accepting what I say as truth. Which is a whole lot nicer than the constant arguments I’d had with Micah because I don’t like guns. I eat my cookie, watching the way the moonlight gleams on the snow-covered mountains around us.
“What about your parents? Are they in Montana? You said you have a sister overseas, but you’ve never mentioned them.”
“My sister and I grew up in foster care.”
I blink at his unexpected answer. “That must have been difficult.”
“It was, but we were lucky. We only got shuffled around a couple homes before we were placed together with really nice foster parents. They kept us together and made sure we knew we were loved. They take in a lot of kids, so they have their hands full, but we still keep in touch on birthdays and holidays. They can’t leave Montana very often, but my foster parents were some of the first to get tested when Emma got sick. They’re good people.”
“What’s your sister like?” I don’t know why I’m asking so many questions, but it’s easier to focus on him and Emma right now than on my own feelings.
Guy chuckles. “Hayden was wild growing up. Well, we both were, but she has this no-holds-barred approach to life I was always envious of. She’s a year older than me, and she left right before I found out about Emma’s illness.” His face grows more serious. “Hayden was tested too when Emma got sick, but she wasn’t a match for Em. We both tried to find our birth parents, but the records were sealed. It’s better to have a kidney from someone her same size, but it was worth a shot.”
“Is it hard not knowing what happened to them?”
“It used to bother me a lot, but after Emma got sick, a lot of things didn’t matter as much anymore.” He’s quiet for a while, then says, “Are you okay, Sienna? Did I do something to upset you? I feel like we ran you out of your house.”
The fact that he didn’t say “did we upset you” makes me respect him even more. I almost tell him the same thing I told Jess, but then I hesitate and reconsider.
“No, you both were fun tonight,” I reassure him, and as I say the words, I know they’re true. “I don’t know why I started feeling overwhelmed in there. I’ve lived my whole life in this house, on this property, and you both have a lot more change happening than I do.”
“You have two people in your home, eating your food, stealing your shower and your dog,” he reminds me. “If you weren’t feeling overwhelmed, I’d ask to have some of what you’re having.”
I break my cookie in half and offer him part.
Guy chuckles but shakes his head. “You watched my daughter all day. You earned that cookie.”
“Emma’s welcome with me anytime. I like having someone to talk to. It gets lonely out here.”
His muscled arms cross on the railing next to my leg, not too close but close enough I feel a silent comradery in his company.
“Hey, Sienna? If this gets to be too much, I’ll understand. Just because you’re helping us out for now doesn’t mean you have to help us forever. You made my daughter happy today, which means a whole lot more to me than you realize.”
“She made me happy too.”
Guy’s quiet for a moment before whispering softly, “Emma is the best thing to ever happen to me.”
He doesn’t say out loud that he’s losing her. He doesn’t have to. It lies between us, a truth that brought two strangers together. There’s a reason why it’s okay tonight was overwhelming. The reason has a supersecret question and a father who’s beside himself trying to fix something he just can’t make better.
For a moment, just a moment, I want to lean over and rest against his shoulder. Instead, I hand him half of the cookie, and in the quiet of the winter moonlight, we share it together.
Chapter 9
A foot of snow drops in the cold of the night, and it’s still falling when my alarm beeps softly, telling me it’s time to get up.
Guy hasn’t been here long enough to realize the lane into the property will be unpassable, and showing up late for work on the second day of a new job isn’t the best look. I dress as quietly as I can, tiptoeing down the darkened stairs and avoiding the boards where I know they creak. The living room is chilly this early in the morning, and the man-size lump on the couch has both blankets piled up on top of him. If he’s been getting cold at night, he hasn’t mentioned it.
Something tells me that cold or not, Guy will never mention it.
He’s just so different from my ex. Micah worked hard, but he never had a problem telling me or anyone else what he was thinking. If he’d spent a cold night on the couch, Micah would have been grumbling and blustery about it to anyone within earshot. I wonder if Guy isn’t a complainer or if things have been so hard, he doesn’t even register an uncomfortable night on the couch. Either way, I need to make sure to add extra wood to the fireplace woodstove, because Emma and I might be toasty warm upstairs, but clearly Guy isn’t.
The real cold hits me as I step into the mudroom, my sock-covered feet protesting the icy concrete. I pull on a pair of coveralls, thick fleece-lined work gloves, and my warmest hat before stuffing my feet into my work boots. Then I glance at the thermometer hanging outside the window and grimace at six degrees Fahrenheit. A single-digit morning is never a great way to start the day, and I add a heavy winter jacket on top of my coveralls.
In this getup, I always feel like a kid in too-thick winter clothing, straight out of A Christmas Story. I head to an old, repurposed, and somewhat dilapidated wooden cattle shed tucked behind the cattle pen; it’s now my tool shed. My great-grandparents built this with their own hands, and restoring the shed to its former glory is on my never-ending list of things I’d love to get done someday.
“Someday but not today,” I murmur as I fiddle with my dad’s old tractor. “Come on, baby. Be nice to me this morning.” I sweet-talk it until Monster rumbles to life. The thing is so beat up, Micah didn’t want the tractor added to the list of assets. Or maybe even a painful divorce wasn’t enough to make him take my dad’s pride and joy away from me. The metal seat is cold enough to feel through the clothing I’m wearing, so I stick an old blanket beneath me before I drive it out of the shed.
As I pass by the house, I see a light in the kitchen, and I frown because Guy shouldn’t be up yet. Waking up Micah always made him crabby… No. I’m not going to keep thinking about my ex. I’m not going to assume Guy’s going to react the same ways as Micah did. And if he does, well, then his butt can clear the road of snow next time.
I hate that I’m fighting with fictional versions of two husbands in my head. Not only is this unhealthy and will leave me stressed and anxious, it isn’t even fair.
“Focus on what’s in front of you,” I tell myself for the hundredth time this month, a mantra that helps…until it’s late at night and there’s nothing else in front of me to focus on except a book I don’t want to read and a tub in need of scrubbing.
Clearing the entire lane of snow isn’t necessary as long as there’s room for one vehicle to get in and out. But I’m already here, so I scrape the drive to the main road and back, then make a sweep past the barn and the garage. I feed the horses and use Monster to dump a new round bale of hay into the cattle pen. All the water trough and water bucket heaters are working, and I leave Lulu, the donkeys, and Legs inside their stalls. With wind like today, the windchill must be in the negatives, so they get to spend the day snug in the barn where it’s warmer.
The cattle don’t have the same kind of barn the horses do, but they’re sheltered under their lean-tos. Cattle are tough, and as long as they’re fed, dry, and out of the wind, they can handle the cold better than the rest of us can. Despite my clothing, I’m chilled through, and the cabin feels wonderfully warm when I finish my chores and go inside.
Guy’s built up the fire, bless the man.
There’s a bowl of oatmeal with fresh berries waiting for me on the kitchen island, covered with a paper towel so it doesn’t get cold. Guy’s waiting for me too, dressed for work and finishing his own breakfast.
“Thanks for making it warmer in here,” I tell him as I head to the sink to wash my hands. The warm water stings my icy fingers, so I turn the temperature colder.
“Sure. I figured you’d be an ice cube about now. You didn’t have to do that, by the way.”
“Unless you wanted to take the ATV into town, it’s a little necessary.” I shrug, turning off the water. “It’s just a part of rural living. We don’t get as much snow as you Montana boys, but it adds up.”
“This Montana boy would have done it for you,” Guy says sweetly. “Anything you need around here, Sienna, just let me know. This whole husband-for-hire gig has been the easiest job I’ve taken.”
“Yes, but the benefits are crap,” I joke as I dry off my hands and add lotion to them.
“Not from where I’m standing,” he murmurs as he gets up.
Did he just flirt with me? Probably not. He’s probably just being appreciative of having a place other than the extended stay in town. My stomach growls, and I gratefully take my bowl of oatmeal. “Mmm, this smells good. I’m starting to get spoiled with all the cooking.”
“Says the woman who’s been out since four plowing the drive.”
Guy gazes down at me, and those eyes are far too blue for this early in the morning. I’m not supposed to be lost in my fake-but-not-fake husband’s eyes before dawn, or at any time really, and we’re standing too close. I start to move right as he tries to give me space by stepping the same way. We bump arms, which shouldn’t be a big deal, except those are really nice arms.
I exhale a small laugh. “I forgot I like dancing.”
“Me too.”
Sticking my face in a bowl of oatmeal is easier than meeting his warm gaze. A few bites in, I see him start to pack his lunch, so I get up and pull out a loaf of bread, moving the box of off-brand protein bars out of his reach.
