Brenda Minton - A Rancher for Christmas

“Don’t lecture him,” she finally said. “I heard something in his voice.”

“I’ll go easy on him. He’s a grown man. It’s time he made his own decisions, anyway.”

Marty put a hand on his arm. “Is it really possible for you to do that?”

He grinned at her fairly unsympathetic tone. “No, probably not. What’s for dinner?”

“I’m making beef stew.”

“Okay.” He waited, watching. He could see the furrow in her brow and knew she had more on her mind than the stew.

“It’s okay for you to let this young woman help. I know you have reservations...”

“Because we don’t know her at all,” he reminded.

Marty shot him a look that he couldn’t fail to understand. He was being too “Jake” for her liking. He did like to take control. He liked to know his family was taken care of and safe. Old habits were hard to let go of.

“You’ve raised your siblings. Now you’re looking at raising two little girls. And I’m sorry, but they need more than you, Jake. I think Lawton was right. These girls need Breezy. I might not know her well, but I think I’m a good judge of character and she seems like someone you can trust.”

“It’s possible she won’t stay.”

Marty stopped dicing up an onion. “Because of her childhood? All I see is a young woman that was a victim of her situation.”

He grinned and kissed the top of Marty’s head. “I love you, Marty.”

She sniffled and wiped at tears trickling down her cheeks. “Silly onions.”

“Onions never make you cry.”

“Oh, hush. Go to town.”

As Marty cried, he placed a hand on her shoulder. She covered that hand with her own.

“I’m okay.”

“Of course you are.”

She was always okay. He’d known Marty most of his life. She and her husband had moved to Martin’s Crossing to pastor the Community Church at the edge of town. That had been close to twenty-five years ago. After Earl passed away, Marty had stayed on. She’d been the cook and housekeeper for the Martins. Then she’d gone to work for Lawton and Elizabeth after the girls were born.

“I need potatoes,” Marty said on a sigh.

“I’ll get a bag in town.”

“I should have planned better.”

He shrugged it off. “I’m sure there are other things we need. I’ve got a calf to check on, then I’ll come back in for a list.”

As he reached for his hat, she stopped him. “Give her a chance. I don’t think she’s had a lot of them.”

“That’s the Marty I know and love. You always see the good in people.”

“This is the Marty who knows that God doesn’t need us to judge for Him. That doesn’t mean she gets a free pass. Our baby girls come first.”

He laughed at that. “And there’s the Marty who protects her little ones.”

Her smile returned, settling in her gray eyes. “You’d better believe it.”

Jake believed it.

And he’d do his best to give Breezy a chance. But flat-out trust? That was something he’d have to work on. He’d learned—in life and in business—to reserve the right to form opinions at a later date.

Time would tell, he told himself as he headed out to the barn. She’d stay or she’d go. While she was in Martin’s Crossing he’d do his best to treat her like family, because that’s what Lawton would have wanted.

Chapter Three

Breezy was standing on the porch when Jake pulled up to Lawton’s house the next day. She could see two little girls in the backseat of the truck. Her heart thumped hard against her ribs. This was it. Her new life.

She’d spent the rest of yesterday and this morning wondering how she would do this. How would she stay in Martin’s Crossing? How would she know how to take care of two little girls? After cleaning a layer of dust off the furniture the previous evening, she’d sat down and tried to list the pros and cons of staying in Martin’s Crossing.

And she’d gotten stuck on Jake Martin, on the wariness in his eyes, on the way he’d questioned her, on the way his hand had touched her arm. Jake Martin had trust issues. Breezy had her own issues. She didn’t know how to settle, how to put down roots.

Sticking around now took on a lot of importance, for herself and for two little girls. She watched Jake unbuckle the girls from their car seats. Staying meant everything. She headed his way to help.

If he would let her.

It shouldn’t bother her. She’d grown up used to people giving her suspicious looks. She’d spent her life adjusting to new people, new situations. She knew how to reinvent herself. She could be the person two little girls needed her to be. Once she figured out who that person was.

She stepped close to the car, watching as he unbuckled one of the twins. Then he placed that little person in her arms. Dark hair straight, face thinner than the other little girl. “Hello, Violet.”

The little girl just stared, her eyes big and unsure. Yes, Breezy was getting used to that look. It mirrored the expression on Uncle Jake’s face. The man in question pushed the truck door closed. He held Rose in one arm against his side and the little girl patted his cheek with her tiny hand. Breezy watched the change that took place when he was in the presence of these little girls.

The twins made him human. They softened the distrust in his blue eyes.

“Are you ready for us?” he asked with a grin that surprised her.

Breezy nodded. “I’m ready.”

She walked in front of him, Violet in her arms. The little girl smelled like baby soap and fabric softener. Her arms had gone around Breezy’s neck. They reached the front door and Jake reached around her to push it open, a small touch of chivalry she hadn’t expected.

As they stepped inside, Violet struggled to be free. Breezy let the little girl down and Violet toddled as quickly as her little legs could carry her. In the center of the living room, she looked around, unsure. And then she cried.

“Momma!” Violet wailed, walking through the room. “Momma!”

Jake went after her, scooping her up with his free arm. “It’s okay, baby girl.”

By then both twins were crying and clinging to Jake.

“I’m sorry.” Breezy stood helpless and unsure of how to help. Should she reach for the twins? Maybe she didn’t have the mom gene. How could she, really? She’d never truly had a mother of her own.

Jake noticed and his expression softened although the concern remained in his eyes.

“It isn’t your fault. It’s just too soon to bring them here.”

Breezy looked around, trying to come up with something. “They have toys here. Let’s pull out the toys and let them settle down. I’m not sure that avoiding this house is what they need. They lived here. It’s familiar to them.”

“I think I know where they lived.”

“I think you should give me a chance.” She reached over and this time Rosie held her arms out and fell into Breezy’s embrace. The toddler’s arms around her neck took her by surprise.

“I’m working on it,” he said in a raspy voice.

Of course he was. She sat down on the edge of the sofa and Rose slid off her lap and headed for the guitar Breezy had left leaning against the wall. The little girl moved quickly. Breezy moved faster, getting the instrument before the child could grab it. But she held it, letting Rose pluck the strings. With a few strands of hair on top of her head in a pink bow, Rose smiled and jabbered.

“Do you want a song?” Breezy asked, settling on the sofa again. Rose rested against her knees.

Jake had moved to the nearby chair, still holding Violet. As Breezy started to play, the child slid down from his lap and joined Rose. Breezy swallowed past the lump of emotion that lodged in her throat. She managed not to cry. Instead she sang a Christmas song because it sounded like one a child would be soothed by.