Katherine Garbera - One Hot Christmas

She asked for a glass of the red wine Sarah had introduced her to and a bottle of dark beer. Then she returned to the makeshift bandstand and handed the bottle to Ben.

“Thanks.” He glanced toward the hallway that led to Pete and Sarah’s bedroom. “Pete just coaxed her back there on some pretext or other. I think this is it.”

She noticed his breathing had changed and lines of tension bracketed his mouth. “Nervous?”

“Hell, yes. What if she doesn’t like it?”

“She’ll love it. Everyone else has.”

“I know, but they’re not the ones I made it for.” He looked over at the front door. “They’re bringing it in.” His voice was strained.

She’d never dreamed that he’d be so worried about whether Sarah would like the saddle. So far, everyone had raved about it, but he was right that Sarah’s reaction was the crucial one. If she gave the slightest indication that she didn’t love it, Ben would be cut to the quick.

His anxiety became hers, and she longed to hold his hand, touch his arm, anything that would let him know she was there for him, but he wouldn’t appreciate that. She might know he was feeling vulnerable, but he wouldn’t want anyone else to figure it out. Outwardly he projected calm confidence in his ability to do his work.

She’d never thought about the pressure on an artist when a creation was unveiled. Ben’s work was more than just a job, and she wondered how many of his customers understood that. Now that she’d seen this saddle, she longed to visit his shop and ask more questions about the process. That wouldn’t happen if they ended things when this interlude was over.

Gabe and Nick carried the still-covered saddle into the middle of the room and moved back as conversation hummed all around them. Jack called down the hall to Pete before walking back to stand beside the saddle. Everyone’s attention shifted to the arrival of the birthday girl.

Pete held Sarah’s hand as he ushered her into the living room. She’d chosen to wear winter white, a stunning dress that showcased her cherished turquoise jewelry. Her cheeks were pink with excitement.

Molly held her breath along with everyone else in the room. She desperately wanted Sarah to love the saddle for Ben’s sake.

Then little Sarah Bianca, her evergreen dress decorated with ruffles and a tiara balanced on her red curls, jumped up and down with cries of glee. “Do it, do it, Uncle Jack!” she shouted. “Show Grandma her surprise!”

“Yeah, yeah!” Archie, her blond, three-year-old cousin, started jumping, too. “Do it, Daddy!”

With a smile, Jack stepped forward. “Happy birthday, Mom. From all of us.” He whipped off the blanket.

Sarah stared at the saddle in complete astonishment. Then she began to cry.

Ben sucked in a breath. “Is that good?”

“Oh, yeah.” Molly’s eyes filled as she watched tears of joy flow down Sarah’s cheeks. “She loves it.”

“But she’s crying .”

Molly sniffed. “That’s because she’s happy, and touched and overwhelmed by the generosity of everyone. The saddle’s a hit, Ben. You did it.”

“Thank God.”

Sarah wiped her cheeks and accepted a handkerchief from Pete. She blew her nose and handed it back to him, which brought a laugh from the group and broke the tension. Everyone clapped and cheered as Sarah walked over to stroke the leather of the saddle and exclaim over the beauty of it.

Finally she looked up and searched the room until her gaze settled on Ben. “You made this, didn’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s magnificent.”

“Thank you.” His voice was husky.

“I knew you weren’t here to buy a horse. But I never imagined...” She went back to stroking the leather with reverence. “I’ve never had a saddle like this. Bertha Mae will strut like a queen.”

She lifted her head again and glanced around the room. “Thank you, all of you. It means more than I can say.” Her voice caught, and she swallowed. “I can’t imagine a better birthday gift than this, except to have you all here to share it with me.”

More cheers followed. Then the grandchildren crowded around and asked to sit on the saddle. She lifted each one in turn, while camera phones clicked. Everyone laughed at the kids looking so proud sitting on their grandmother’s birthday saddle.

Molly turned back to Ben. “Do you mind that the kids are sitting on it?”

“Why should I?” He watched with a smile.

“I don’t know. It’s a valuable saddle. Maybe you’d rather not see little kids bouncing on it.”

“They can’t hurt it. Obviously they’re having fun, so why not?”

From the corner of her eye, she studied him. He didn’t seem to be faking his enjoyment of the scene, which seemed odd for a man who’d decided not to have kids. The puzzle of Ben Radcliffe became more complicated than ever.

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