Brenda Minton - Christmas Gifts - Small Town Christmas / Her Christmas Cowboy

Regret was useless. If he clung to all of his what-ifs, he would live in the past forever. Moving forward with his life needed to happen now, not only for his sake but for the girls’. He massaged the cords in his neck to ease the tension.

Amy slipped into his mind, bringing him hope. Until she’d noticed him, he’d watched her talking to the girls when he’d crossed the hall to the cafeteria. The twins were listening to her, and even though Holly’s belligerence still marred her pretty face, so like her mother’s, Ivy seemed to hang on to her every word. How had she done it? He slapped the tabletop and rose. That’s what he needed to do. See if Amy could teach him something. Discipline with love. Could he learn to do that?

Mike slipped off his jacket, hung it on the back of a chair and strode to the refrigerator. He poured a slosh of milk and swallowed, still feeling a hungering void.

Noise from the hall caught his attention. He rinsed the glass and set it in the sink while his gaze drifted down the street to Ellie’s tree-filled property. An unfamiliar car sat at the back of the driveway, a sporty hatchback, practical but spirited, with its deep orange color. No doubt Amy had returned home.

“Daddy.”

He turned, startled by Ivy’s voice. The two girls stood beside the table, waiting. “Let’s sit in the living room, okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He marched into the room and settled into his recliner. The girls plopped onto the sofa.

“I’m hungry, so don’t take long.”

Holly’s sarcastic tone grated him, but he bit his tongue, unwilling to argue. “I don’t want to know what happened today because Mrs. Fredericks told me. I want to know what we’ll do about it.”

“About what?” Ivy’s wide eyes sent him an innocent gaze.

“About your behavior.” He monitored his tone.

“If Holly wouldn’t tear up my—”

Mike held up his hand to shush her. “This isn’t about a picture or being tripped when you jumped rope or anything else.” He aimed his gaze at Holly. “This has to do with making changes. I’m tired of being called up to school. Do you realize I have to take time off from work to come there and listen to the same old stories about your behavior?”

“But—”

“I want solutions, Holly, not buts.”

Ivy started to titter, and Holly soon followed.

He stared at them and waited for their silliness to end. He’d hoped to reason with them, to find some solutions. Mrs. Fredericks had given him one, and although he’d negated it, the idea might set a fire under the girls.

“Sorry, Daddy, but you said—”

“I know what I said, Ivy. I’m asking for changes. What will they be?”

The two gazed at the floor, their hands in their laps, and said nothing.

“Then I have a solution. Mrs. Fredericks recommends that we split the two of you into different second grade classes.”

“No, Daddy. Please.” Ivy’s volume rose with each word.

His mind reeled. “Why not? I would think you’d be happy.”

She shook her head in high speed. “We need to be together.”

“Why?” His focus shifted from one to the other. “Together isn’t working, so why?” “Because we’re all we got.”

Hearing Ivy knocked him backward. We ‘re all we got. His heart wrenched. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. “Then you will make some changes in your behavior, or it will be out of my hands.”

A frown crept to their faces.

“Will Mrs. Fredericks make us go to different classes?”

Ivy’s plaintive look stymied him. “If you keep causing problems, then I think she will.”

She shifted toward Holly, who’d said little. “Do you want to go to another class?”

Holly looked away with a faint shake of the head.

Mike remained silent, giving them time to think until both pairs of eyes returned to his. “You have the weekend to make a decision.” And he had the weekend to figure out what to do. “Remember what I said.” He rose. “By the way, Holly, if you’re hungry, eat some fruit. Dinner won’t be for a while yet.”

They popped up and sped from the room while he sat questioning his threat. If they separated during school, would it make a difference? What about their behavior at home? His chest constricted while Ivy’s words rang in this head. We ‘re all we got. He needed to understand what she meant.

The refrigerator door opened, and before it closed, he rose and headed into the kitchen. “If you want to watch TV, you can, but I know you have some homework today. Mrs. Fredericks told me.”

“Can we do it tomorrow?”

Holly’s favorite question rang in his ears. “You’re going to spend part of the day with Gramma Ellie. Do you want to do homework then?”

“No.” Ivy spun on her heel. “I’ll do mine now. I’d rather have fun tomorrow.”

Holly gave it some thought before she followed Ivy toward her room.

Mike headed into the kitchen, pulled out an apple and took a bite. Dinner was more than an hour away, and for once, he had time on his hands.

Leaves drifting past the window caught his eye. He planned to rake them tomorrow, but his body charged with energy. His gaze drifted and he spotted Amy in Ellie’s front yard tugging leaves toward the side lot. Big yard. Big job for a slender woman.

He slipped on his jacket, but before he stepped outside, he ambled to the twins’ bedroom doors. “I’m going out to rake. I’ll be there if you need me.”

A muffled okay came from Ivy’s room. Holly’s was silent. She’d probably fallen asleep.

Mike stepped onto the side porch and grabbed his work gloves and rake, then headed down the steps. But instead of tackling his task, he strode across the street, drawn by the lithe woman whose opinion he valued.

When she spotted him, she stopped and leaned on the rake handle. Her hair shone with streaks of dark gold in the afternoon sun, and her cheeks were rosy with the crisp breeze. “So that’s where you live. The blue-and-white house.”

“Not too far away.”

“It’s cute. I admired it when I passed by earlier.”

“Thanks.” He’d never considered the house cute, as she called it, but it motivated him to turn and take another look. “My wife picked the color. She loved blue.”

Amy’s smile faded. “I’m sorry about your loss. Grams told me.”

He suspected Ellie had. He motioned to the lawn to change the subject. “Let me help you.”

She shook her head. “You have your own leaves to take care of. I can—”

“I’m sure you can, but I’d like to help.” He swung out the rake and gave a tug. The debris tangled in the tines, jerking him to a sudden stop. “Does Ellie … does your grandmother have an old sheet or maybe a tarp? We can make fast work of this if she does.”

“A sheet?”

“We’ll rake the leaves onto it and drag the load to the side. Much easier.”

Her eyebrows arched. “That’s a great idea.” She dropped the rake. “Wish I’d thought of that a half hour ago.”

She darted off as he watched her long legs make short work of the distance. A runner. He could picture her jogging down the streets of Chicago, turning heads as she went. The woman definitely turned his. Even though a tinge of guilt swept past him, he didn’t let it sway his thoughts. Laura had been gone three years, and it had been a long time since he’d really looked at another woman.

Amy waved a white cloth at him as she returned. “Grams said to use this.” She tossed it to him as she approached, a grin growing on her face. “Here’s the deal. You help me, and I’ll come over and help you.”

Normally he wouldn’t consider it, but for the first time in years, he felt like a man instead of just a dad. “Deal.”