Stella Bagwell - A Ranger For Christmas

“Sounds good,” Vivian replied, even though she doubted she could muster more than four or five bites.

“Reeva says if no one wants ribs they can have menudo,” Hannah chimed in. “That’s what I want. With lots of onions and jalapenos!”

The Mexican soup made with tripe and hominy was touted to cure the worst of hangovers. Maybe that’s what she needed to shock her appetite back to normal, Vivian thought. That, or forget she’d ever laid eyes on Sawyer Whitehorse.

A few minutes later, after everyone around the long dining table began to eat, Maureen clanked her spoon loudly against her wineglass.

“Quiet, everyone!” she called out. “Blake has an important family announcement to share with us tonight.”

“Hallelujah. He’s finally selling that damned one-horn bull,” Chandler, the veterinarian of the family, spoke up. “I’ll never have to doctor him again.”

Sitting next to Vivian, Holt waved his fork through the air. “No. He’s decided the ranch needs another horse barn. One with a therapy pool.”

“Sorry, brothers. You’re wrong on both counts,” Blake said, then slipping an arm around Katherine’s shoulders, he gave her a smile that was both incredibly intimate and loving. “My wife has just learned she’s expecting. The baby should arrive by the Fourth of July. So one way or another, he or she should be a little firecracker.”

Hannah looked at Nick and squealed with delight. “Wow, Nick! You’re going to have a brother or sister! How cool is that?”

The boy’s wide grin said it all. “That’s pretty cool, all right. There will be another little baby in the family to go with Joe. And I won’t be an only child anymore.”

“Better make sure you ask for everything this Christmas, Nick,” Holt advised the boy. “Next Christmas you’ll be sharing with little brother.”

“I won’t mind,” Nick told his uncle. “Having a brother or sister is all I want.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted, too. But I’ve quit asking,” Hannah said as she slanted her mother a disappointed glance. “Mom is getting too old to have a baby, anyway.”

Awkward silence suddenly settled over the table and with it a chunk of heavy guilt hit the pit of Vivian’s stomach. She’d made a mess of things when she’d married the wrong man and bore his child. Because of her bad choice in men, Hannah had grown up without a father and no siblings.

“Hannah, don’t be mean to your mother,” Holt scolded. “She’ll give you a brother or sister one day. When the time is right.”

Vivian cut him a grateful look, which only made him grin and shrug.

Down the table, Maureen cleared her throat and lifted her wineglass. “Let’s everyone toast to Blake and Kat and my fourth grandchild. Let’s pray the little firecracker will be healthy and happy.”

Everyone seconded Maureen’s sentiments and as Vivian picked up her long-stemmed glass, she glanced across the table at her brother and sister-in-law.

Blake was smart, she thought wistfully. He’d married a woman who loved him utterly. Whereas she’d chosen a man who’d only been capable of loving himself.

She was swallowing a sip of wine when Holt’s elbow gouged into her rib cage and she turned her head to look at him in question.

“What’s wrong?” he asked under his breath.

“Nothing is wrong,” she whispered back. “Why?”

“You look like you’re going to burst into tears. Aren’t you happy for your brother?”

She stiffened her spine. “Of course, I’m thrilled. I’m just feeling a little sentimental. That’s all.”

“Oh. That’s all, eh?”

“Yes. That’s all,” she said tartly. “Now hush and eat your ribs. Or I’m going to tell everyone you’ve been seeing Miss Holly Goodbody.”

His dark brows shot upward before he leaned his mouth closer to her ear. “Her name isn’t Goodbody. And for your information, I’ve not been seeing Holly.”

“Hmmp. That’s not what I’ve been hearing.”

She turned her attention back on her plate, only to have Holt’s elbow puncturing her ribs once again.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Except that it’s okay if you want another baby, you know.”

From out of nowhere, a tiny pain of loss and sadness settled over her. “Holt, don’t talk to me about babies. I’m not even married.”

He grinned. “Who said you had to be?”

She rolled her eyes at her brother, then purposely turned her attention back to her plate.

“You’ve been very quiet tonight, Sawyer. Are you unhappy that you took the job at Lake Pleasant?”

Sawyer looked across the small living room to where his grandmother sat in a wooden rocker, patiently stringing polished cedar berries and tiny turquoise and coral beads. Eventually, the string would become a necklace or bracelet to be sold at a tourist shop in Cottonwood. Nashota cared little for money. As long as she had enough for necessities, she was content. But crafting the jewelry made her feel productive and useful, and Sawyer admired her for wanting to remain that way in spite of her advancing years.

“No. I’m not unhappy. Today was very interesting. And I have new things to think about.”

“That’s good. So what do you think about the people you’ll be working with?”

Sawyer leaned forward and placed his empty mug on a small coffee table. After a meal of beef stew, fried bread and apple pie, he was stuffed. “I haven’t met all of them yet. But they seem like a nice group. My partner is a woman. Her name is Vivian, but our supervisor calls her Viv. I think because he’s known her for a long time.”

“And what do you call her?”

He leveled a patient grin at her. “Grandmother, what does that have to do with anything?”

“There are times I’m curious.”

Nashota had never been interested about such things before. Probably because she’d watched him change his dates like a man changed his boots or jeans and could clearly see that Sawyer never intended to have a serious relationship with a woman. So why was she questioning him now? he wondered.

“What’s this? You’re still thinking the Lake Pleasant job is going to bring me good fortune?”

Nashota lowered the string of beads to her lap and looked at him. “There is no thinking about it. The new job is going to bring you good fortune.”

He almost groaned, but managed to hold it back. Nashota took her mystical feelings very seriously and expected him to do the same.

“I’m not going to be digging for gold or silver down there, Grandmother,” he gently reminded her. “I’m basically going to be doing the same job as the one at Dead Horse Ranch. The only good fortune about that is the salary I’m paid.”

She stabbed him with a silent look of disappointment.

Sawyer sighed. “What’s wrong? I’m just telling you the way it is.”

“No. That isn’t the way it is. I’ve taught you that good fortune has nothing to do with money or gold or silver. I expect you to remember the lesson.”

“Well, I don’t really think good fortune has anything to do with Vivian, either.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Time will tell us.”

What was going through that wily mind of hers? Sawyer wondered. It wasn’t like her to have matchmaking thoughts about her only grandchild. Heck, for as far back as he could remember, she’d never so much as suggested to Sawyer that he should find a nice girl, settle down and raise a family. No, she seemed to understand that he wasn’t family man material. Not after his parents’ short, disastrous marriage.

“She has a twelve-year-old daughter.”

“Who?”

“Vivian. My partner. And she’s been divorced for nearly that long. She didn’t say this, but I got the impression he wasn’t much of a husband or father.”