Lois Richer - Her Christmas Family Wish

He pulled into his ranch, surprised by the warm glow he felt at seeing the house lights on as if to welcome him. He stood outside and paused a moment. In the twilight nothing looked amiss, as if this was a well-run hobby ranch instead of a work in progress. Still, Wyatt doubted his father would approve.

Inside the back door he inhaled the savory aroma of simmering beef. His stomach growled in response. Ellie walked toward him, a welcoming smile on her face.

“Hi. How’d things go?”

“Fine. The animal is recovering nicely.” He liked the way she’d bundled her silvery curls on the top of her head, leaving her pretty face and wide smile free for him to admire. “Everything okay here?”

“All quiet on the western front,” she said. “Cade zonked out a while ago.”

“I’ll just go check on him.” Wyatt washed first, then entered Cade’s room, smiling at the sight of his boy curled up and snoring. His heart squeezed almost painfully tight as he smoothed a hand against Cade’s dark head. “I love you, son,” he murmured. He drew the blanket tighter, his heart welling with thankfulness that God had entrusted this small being to him. “Sleep well.”

“I hope you don’t mind that I put Gracie on the bed in your spare room,” Ellie said when he returned to the kitchen. “I thought that way we wouldn’t disturb her, and you can eat in peace.”

“Very thoughtful, thanks. Speaking of eating... What is that tantalizing smell?”

“Oh, just some stew I made from that beef you had in the fridge.” She lifted a dish from the oven. “I hope that’s okay?”

“Yes, but—it’s very kind of you to go to all this trouble.” He licked his lips, slightly embarrassed when he realized Ellie was watching him. As her gaze held his he felt the intimacy in the room ramp up.

“I’m guessing you’re hungry.” Ellie’s wide smile brought a sparkle to her gray eyes like sunshine glinting off a granite rock.

“Starving.” He took out a plate and Ellie filled it with beef, potatoes and green beans.

“I made some biscuits, too.” She set them beside his plate.

“Biscuits?” He licked his lips. “I haven’t had those for ages.”

“Go ahead and eat. I’ll make some tea,” she said and immediately set the kettle to boil. “Do you cook?” She sat at the end of the breakfast bar, not far enough to break the friendly feeling but enough to give Wyatt some room.

“Oh, yes. My father was a firm believer that his kid should know how to fend for himself.” He scooped up some stew. No way was he going to spoil this meal by talking about his unhappy childhood. But Ellie had other ideas.

“Your mom didn’t mind you in her kitchen?” She rose as the kettle boiled.

“I never knew her.” He smeared butter on the feathery light biscuits and watched it melt before taking a bite. “These are fantastic. Everything is. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” Ellie put the teapot and two cups on the counter. “Tanner told me your father was a well-known lawyer.”

Which meant they’d been talking about him. Wyatt didn’t like that, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it because Ellie was speaking again.

“You never had any desire to follow in his footsteps?”

“None. My first love has always been animals.” No point in elaborating or discussing the many reasons why he hoped he’d never become like his father.

“I saw how much you care for animals.”

Her comment shocked him. He stared at her, thinking that the flush of color on her cheeks suited her.

“I was walking Cade the other day when I saw you with that abused horse at Wranglers,” she mumbled, her head tilted down. After a moment she looked directly at him. “He was filthy and mangy, and yet you touched him so gently, as if he was the most precious animal. You’re a wonderful vet.”

“Well, I try,” he sputtered, a little surprised by the fervor of her words. Uncomfortable with her praise, he changed the subject. “Does that mean my son didn’t settle as easily as you claimed?”

“He was restless, needed some fresh air.” She shrugged. “He was fine.”

“I see. Well, thank you for that. And for babysitting tonight and for supper.”

“Oh.” A furrow formed on her wide forehead as she moved to the fridge and pulled out a bowl. “I almost forgot. Rice pudding?”

“My favorite.” Wyatt spooned some onto his almost clean plate, slightly unnerved by how intimate it suddenly seemed in the dim room with two sleeping children next door. How was he going to let her know he wasn’t interested in getting better acquainted? Although if he was honest with himself, he was curious about Ellie Grant.

He ate the pudding. “Delicious.”

“Good.” He saw her gaze swivel to focus on his wedding portrait. “Your wife was a very beautiful woman. Was she also a veterinarian?”

“Taryn?” Wyatt laughed as he scooped out a second helping of the pudding. “She was an interior designer. We were polar opposites. I’m country and she’s—she was,” he corrected automatically, “definitely city. The ranch was going to be our compromise. Only—” He bent his head.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Wyatt.” Somehow the generous compassion in Ellie’s soft voice soothed his lingering hurt. “May I ask how she died?”

“A bunch of kids were joyriding and broadsided her car. The driver was underage and shouldn’t even have been behind the wheel.” As it always did, anger flared toward the teen. “He claimed it wasn’t his fault, but it was.” Wyatt stared at his hands, guilt welling inside. “It was also my fault.”

Irritated that he hadn’t yet found relief from the guilt of that awful day, Wyatt rose and loaded the dishwasher. He was fully aware that Ellie was watching every move with her all-seeing eyes, waiting. There was nothing else to do but explain. He poured two cups of tea and passed one to her.

“Taryn was out that night because of me. She should have been here, at home, with Cade. Instead she was running my errands.” He stopped to clear the rasp from his throat. “My son will spend every Christmas without his mother because I didn’t keep my promise.” He didn’t want to talk about the past anymore, so he turned the tables. “Why did you say Gracie has her mother’s eyes?”

“Because she does.” Ellie sipped her tea nonchalantly. She must have realized he didn’t understand, because she suddenly set the cup down and smiled. “Sorry. I forget sometimes that people don’t know our history. Biologically Gracie is my niece. My sister, Karen, was her mother. She died after Gracie was born and I adopted her a bit later.”

So Ellie, too, carried pain. Wyatt sat down on a stool to listen, curious about the arrangement.

“Karen was married to Kurt. She was four months pregnant when he was killed in an accident at work. Kurt was in construction. He was on the job site one day trying to secure everything in a windstorm when a structure collapsed and killed him.” Ellie sighed, her eyes tear-filled. “It was so hard for Karen to go on, but the pregnancy gave her courage. Then one day she phoned me in Chicago. She’d just found out she had brain cancer, and she’d decided to refuse all treatment in order to keep Gracie safe. I flew down to be with her. She died three months after Gracie’s birth.”

“Ellie, I’m so sorry.” Wyatt reached out to touch her hand where it lay on the counter.

“So am I.” Ellie glanced at his hand, then eased hers away. “Karen would have made an amazing mother. I’m just her stand-in. I promised her I’d do my best to be Gracie’s mom but—” She shook her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I think I’m failing.”

“How can you say that?” Uncomfortable with her tears but hearing the worry in her tone, he tried to reassure her. “Gracie’s a great kid. I think you’ve done amazingly well with her.”