The Rancher's Christmas Match

She wrinkled her nose at him, and then smiled at Allie. “I bet you’ll be starting school here, won’t you?”

Allie nodded. “Next week.”

“You’ll make a lot of very good friends. There are quite a few about your age in my Sunday school class. We’re getting ready to start practicing for our Christmas play.” She picked up an empty plate as she spoke. “I have to get back to work. You all have a good weekend. See you at church Sunday.”

“Yeah, and I’ll pray for you,” Isaac called out to her retreating back.

“You do that, Isaac.”

“We don’t go to church,” Allie said, to no one in particular. But Isaac noticed Rebecca’s cheeks go slightly pink at her daughter’s revelation.

“How about those Christmas trees,” he interjected. “I love a big old Christmas tree. Especially cedar.”

“Because you know I’m allergic,” Jack grumbled. “We can pick up live trees at the feed store. They’re in pots and we can plant them after Christmas.”

“But we’ll put the artificial tree in the main house,” Kylie added. “The trees at the feed store are pretty, but they’re never large enough for the living area.”

Isaac agreed, but his gaze slid to the woman sitting across from him. Rebecca had a lost look on her face. It had started with the topic of church and hadn’t gotten better when they’d switched to talking about Christmas trees.

She had stories, a troubled past. Right now she had a softness about her that hinted at tears. Not his problem.

He usually stuck to that motto, but Rebecca changed things. Because she didn’t seek attention. She didn’t put her pain out there for everyone to take a look at. She was private, strong and hurting.

He respected that.

He also liked her daughter, and he couldn’t get that sad little voice out of his head when she’d said she didn’t go to church. He remembered being about her age listening to other people talk about the things they did as families, things he never understood. Going to church together was one of the biggies. But there had been other things, like family dinners, trips to the lake, playing ball. A kid shouldn’t have to yearn for the things that childhood seemed to guarantee.

With that in mind he spoke up. “About that Christmas program?” he said to Allie.

The little girl lit up and her mother’s eyes narrowed. “I bet you’d love to be a part of it, wouldn’t you?” he asked Allie. “If your mom doesn’t mind. Every child gets a part and even if something goes wrong, it’s still the best thing ever.”

“I don’t think so,” Rebecca said.

At the same time Allie asked, “Do you think I could?”

Rebecca mouthed the word don’t silently.

He got the message loud and clear.

Someone in church had hurt her. If he had to guess, it probably had something to do with Allie.

Jack got to his feet, steadier today. “We should get on the road. Rebecca is going to make a list of materials she’d like to purchase for the shop. Isaac, you should see to those Christmas trees.”

Isaac grabbed the bill Holly had left on the table. “I’ll do that, but I’d prefer to wait until Allie can go with me. I have a feeling she’s a Christmas tree expert.”

Just like he was an expert at getting involved where he shouldn’t. Allie didn’t remind him of a child in Afghanistan, a little girl with dark hair and pleading eyes. He’d seen her look his way. And then she’d been engulfed by the explosion, the smoke, the violence. Her story never made it to the news. No one thought about her or the tragedy of a young life lost. He remembered. His friends remembered. The image had stayed with them. There were times late at night that he’d get a text from one of the men he’d been stationed with, asking if he still had nightmares.

He did.

“Isaac.” Jack’s voice caught him mid-thought. A hand on his arm brought him back to the present and he managed to breathe, to clear his head. He swiped an arm across his forehead and walked off, still holding the bill for their lunch.

He heard Holly say something like “don’t worry about it, it’s on the house.” Jack told her to take the money. Conversation buzzed around him as he walked out of the café, the door closing behind him, cutting him off from the buzz of curious voices.

As he walked down the sidewalk, a headache started. Throbbing pain began at his temple and radiated down to his ear and above his eye. He leaned against the building, closing his eyes as he drew in fresh air.

“Breathe,” a low voice told him. He’d expected it to be Kylie. It wasn’t, though. He was surprised to hear Rebecca’s soft alto.

“Easier said than done.” He opened his eyes, but squinted against the sun. He pulled sunglasses out of his pocket and slid them on.

She stood next to him, shoulder to shoulder. She was a surprise. First, he’d expected her to walk on, or to take the same stand she’d taken on Monday when she’d offered him a ride.

Instead, she remained next to him.

He matched his breathing to hers until his thoughts became rational once more. The sky was blue. A cool north wind brought the fragrant hint of fall turning to winter. The town maintenance crew was working from bucket trucks, hanging lights from poles.

His world was far removed from the terrors of Afghanistan. And yet he thought of all the children living in that country, listening at night for the sound of gunfire or bombs, wondering when a neighbor would be revealed as an enemy.

“Better?” she asked.

“Yeah, thanks.”

She stepped away from the side of the building. “We all have our pasts to deal with. Things that might not be frightening to one person can be a nightmare to another.”

“Church?” he asked, as she started to walk away.

Without looking back, she nodded. And he let her go, watching as she returned to her daughter. Allie grabbed her hand, said something that brought a frown to Rebecca’s face, then they moved on.

He would follow. Soon.

* * *

The future home of the Hope Lakeside Salon was on a corner of Lakeside Drive just a block from Mattie’s Café. The street was lined with brick-and-wood-sided buildings. The structure was two stories. Downstairs would house the salon, while the upstairs rooms were being remodeled to rent by the night.

Rebecca found herself overwhelmed and excited as she looked around. The building had been renovated, the walls painted ivory, leaving whoever started a business there to choose their own colors. There were several rooms, including a large main one that might have once been a store. A door led to a hallway and several smaller ones that would make treatment rooms as she expanded her business to include a day spa, offering facials and massages.

“This was a dry goods store when I was a kid growing up in town,” Jack told her. “My mom would bring me here to buy shoes. She would buy cloth for sewing.”

“Those are good memories,” Rebecca agreed.

She had memories, too. Of gardening with her mother, helping her father clean the church. But senior year of high school everything had changed. She’d met Greg. And she’d learned that her father preached forgiveness to his congregation, but his daughter was exempt from his mercy.

The bell over the shop’s door chimed. Isaac entered, looking more himself. He pushed his hat back and glanced around the bright, clean room.

“Will this building have the water you need for a salon?” he asked.

“I’ll see that it does,” Jack responded. He headed to the back corner of the room. “There’s a restroom behind here, with water pipes. We’ll have to run lines along this inside wall.”

“I’m hoping to have four stations, for four stylists. I know that sounds ambitious,” Rebecca said.