The Cowboy's Family Christmas

Leanne felt a headache crawling up her neck and had suddenly had enough of trying to sit through this visit. Trying to be polite to a man who had once held her heart and, instead, had pushed her away when she needed him most.

She couldn’t struggle through inane conversation with Reuben for a single minute longer.

“Excuse me,” she mumbled, shooting a glance at George, her eyes barely grazing over Reuben. She picked up her plate and carried it to the kitchen. She set her plate on the counter, gripping the edge as she tried to keep it together. In spite of her anger with Reuben, she was still disappointed to see how much he affected her. After all he had done, or rather hadn’t done, he could still make her heart tremble. At one time in her life, she would have prayed about this visit, asking God to give her strength. But she hadn’t attended church since Dirk died. The burdens on her shoulders weighed too heavily.

And now it looked like he would be here on the ranch. Every day until they were done moving and weaning.

She drew in a deep breath, then began scraping the food off the plate into the garbage can.

“Not going to feed those to Buster? I’m sure the old dog would love those leftovers.”

Ruben’s deep voice behind her made her jump. Why didn’t he stay in the dining room? She just wanted this evening over and him gone.

“Buster’s not around anymore,” she said.

“What? Since when?”

“He died shortly after Austin was born.” In spite of her feelings toward him, she softened her voice as she gave him the news. Though the old collie had been the ranch’s dog, he had always been attached to Reuben and was always right at his heels everywhere he went.

“I was wondering where he was when we were working with the cows. I thought he was sleeping. Figured he was probably pretty old.” Reuben released a heavy sigh as he set the bowls with the leftover food on the counter.

She didn’t imagine the sorrow in his voice, and for the smallest moment she wanted to reach out to him and console him. But she stopped herself. He didn’t deserve her pity.

George came into the kitchen, setting the last of the plates beside the sink.

“If you don’t mind, I’m turning in,” he said to Leanne. “Tell Shauntelle thanks for dinner.”

He turned to Reuben. “So we’ll see you again?”

Reuben nodded, then George left, his footsteps slow as he walked through the kitchen to the stairs leading to his bedroom in his wing of the house.

Reuben waited until he was gone, then turned back to Leanne. “He looks tired,” he said, his voice quiet.

“He’s getting older and he hasn’t been feeling well lately.” Leanne kept her tone conversational, wishing Reuben would just leave. She wanted nothing more than to go to her own bedroom, crawl into bed, pull the covers over her head and end this day. But she plugged on.

“Why does he keep going?” Reuben asked. “Why doesn’t he sell this place? Sounds like he’s talked about it.”

“Sell the place?” Leanne couldn’t keep the incredulous tone out of her voice as she finished loading the dishwasher. “This place has been in the Walsh family for generations. He can’t do that. He won’t do that,” she amended.

Reuben gave her a surprised look. “You seem bothered by the idea.”

“You don’t sell land,” she said, closing the dishwasher and punching the buttons, his nearness creating unwelcome feelings countered by his casual dismissal of everything she now held dear. “I can’t believe you would even say that. You, a Walsh.”

“C’mon, Leanne. Be realistic,” Reuben said, frowning his puzzlement as he ignored her last statement. “It’s just you and my dad now, and Chad who is a nice guy but no cowhand. And knowing my father, you’ve been through more than a few hired hands already. You can’t keep going like this.”

“I’m capable,” she countered, leaning back against the counter, her arms folded in a defensive gesture over her chest. “I’ve spent the last three years learning how to handle cows, drive a tractor, work a horse. Prove my worth to your father. I can manage the work.”

“I don’t know why you would want to get into my father’s good graces,” Reuben said with a harsh laugh. “Those four years you and Dirk were engaged, my dad would have nothing to do with you. He fought with Dirk all the time about his dating you. And now you’re working with him like he’s a partner you can trust. How do you know he won’t change his mind and cut you out?”

Leanne felt again the sting of that old rejection. When she was dating Dirk, she knew George’s disapproval was one of the reasons Dirk kept putting off setting a wedding date. Dirk kept telling her it would take time and that he wanted everything to be just right before they got married. But he hung on for four long years, giving her excuse after excuse.

She finally broke up with him, realizing that it was probably for the best.

Because no matter how she had tried to convince herself that Dirk—safe solid secure Dirk—was the better man, it was the wild and unpredictable Reuben who had always held her heart.

And for a few blissful weeks, after she broke up with Dirk and she and Reuben found each other at that wedding in Costa Rica, she thought she had finally found her heart’s true home.

Foolish, stupid, trusting girl.

But she was here now. Reuben was her past. Austin was her present and future. He was her focus now. Not this man who broke his promises to her and broke her heart.

“Land is an inheritance. A legacy. It’s security,” she said, repeating all the reasons she had dated Dirk. “You don’t give that up.”

“Security always was important to you, wasn’t it?” Reuben’s voice held a hard edge. “That’s why you stayed with Dirk so long. That’s why you went running back to him the first chance you could. After I thought we had shared something unique. Something I’d never had with anyone before.”

His words dug into her heart, resurrecting feelings she thought she had dealt with, but the dismissive and furious tone of his voice stripped them all away. Laying bare the selfish man he truly was.

She felt her hands curl into fists and for a moment she wanted to hit him. Strike at him. Lash out in pain and fury and hurt.

“Dirk at least stood by me,” Leanne said, pulling in a long, slow breath, trying to still her pounding heart, the old, painful tightness gripping her tired head. Always a sign of stress and sorrow. “He helped me when I needed him, which is more than I can say for you.”

Silence followed this remark and she wondered what he would say to that. If he would now finally admit to what he had done. Or hadn’t done.

“I wish I had even the smallest inkling of what you’re talking about” was all he said, sounding genuinely puzzled.

All she could do was stare at him.

“Are you delusional or are you really that insensitive?” How could he act as if he had no clue of what had happened between them? Did he think she would just forget those panicked text messages she had sent and his harsh, hard replies telling her to leave him alone? That he didn’t want to have anything to do with her anymore?

“What’s really going on, Leanne?” Reuben asked as she busied herself putting the leftovers away. “I can’t believe you feel you have any right to be angry with me. Why?”

Where to start?

Leanne snapped covers on the leftovers and shoved them into the refrigerator, giving herself a chance to ease the fury clawing at her heart. She had told herself repeatedly that she was over this man and he didn’t deserve one minute of her thoughts.

“Doesn’t matter,” she snapped. What she and Reuben had was past and gone. He’d had his chance and he’d tossed it away. That he would be working here was an inconvenience she would simply have to deal with until he was gone. Because if there was one thing she knew about Reuben, it was that his departure was inevitable.

“But it does matter. If we’ll be working together for a while, I’d like us to not be circling each other.” Then, to her dismay, he took a step closer to her and in spite of her obvious anger with him, he touched her shoulder. It was nothing more than the whisper of his hand over her shirt, but it was as if sparks flew from his fingertips.

She clung to the door of the refrigerator, as if to regain her balance, then turned to him.

“Why does this matter now? Why didn’t it matter three years ago?”

“It did matter. What we had was everything to me. When we got together in Costa Rica, I thought we had finally come to the place you and I should have been years earlier. Instead you deserted me and ran to Dirk and married him.”

All she could do was stare at him. “Deserted you? How... Where...” She shook her head, trying to settle her confusion. “You were the one who did the leaving. I sent you text after text and all I got from you was rejection.” The old hurt spiraled up and she had to fight down the pain and, to her humiliation, the tears.

“Rejection? Texts? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”