Her Cowboy Till Christmas

“Same here!” A sense of wonder swirled in his mind. The man who looked just like him shared more than his appearance. They’d had kids on the same date, illnesses at the same time. “We shared a womb.”

Ryder’s mouth opened. He closed it without saying a word. Then he said, “I guess we did.”

“Earlier someone stopped me at the grocery store and asked me if I ever sensed I had a twin. I can’t say I did. Did you?” Actually, several people had stopped him earlier, and he’d practically sprinted out of there. Part of him was surprised he hadn’t seen a line of cars in his drive when he got home.

“No, I had no idea I had a twin.”

For the next thirty minutes, they rode along the creek and grilled each other about their childhoods. Laughter flowed freely, and more than once Mason caught Ryder inspecting him as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. Neither volunteered information about the mothers of their children, though. He rarely talked about Mia outside of his Tuesday night meetings with Gabby and Eden, and Ryder had mentioned a divorce, so it must be a sore subject.

“Why’d they do it? Why keep us apart?” As they headed back to the stables, Mason hoped Ryder had more insight than he did. The deception bothered him. His memories of Ma and Pops didn’t mesh with the reality saddled up next to him.

How could they have kept a brother from him? And why?

Ryder stared off into the distance. “I keep asking myself the same thing. I wish I knew. I can’t ask my grandparents. They’re long gone. I haven’t been back to my hometown since I was a kid.”

“Someone must have known. How did we just now learn about each other? If anyone around here knew, I’d have found out long ago. Secrets are spilled on a regular basis in these parts.”

Ryder’s jaw shifted. “To be frank with you, I haven’t asked myself too many questions because I know I won’t like the answers. It was enough to come out here and meet you.”

A gust of wind chilled Mason.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” Ryder glanced his way. “I know this is sudden, but I’d like to come back. I have the last two weeks of December off. Would it bother you if I brought my girls out here to meet you?”

He usually resisted last-minute plans, but he wanted to meet his nieces.

I have nieces. With all the information he’d been trying to process, it hadn’t sunk in that he was an uncle. The thought warmed his heart.

“I’d like that. Stay here with the girls. And why don’t you have supper with me and Noah tonight? I gave him the condensed version of you earlier. Be prepared for a lot of questions.”

“Okay.”

“I know I wasn’t the welcome wagon yesterday, but...having a brother is pretty cool.”

“Maybe there’s a simple explanation for why we never knew about each other.” Ryder’s smile lit his eyes. “I guess we have Brittany to thank for finding each other.”

“I guess we do,” he said quietly. Ryder had a point. As much as Mason wanted to leave the past in the past, maybe he should stop in at Nan’s tomorrow before Brittany left and thank her for introducing them.

It wouldn’t mean anything had changed. It was simply the right thing to do.

But the image of her smiling face as she pushed Noah on the tire swing earlier made him pause. Maybe he should leave well enough alone. It was safer to hang on to a decade-old grudge than to let Brittany’s sunshine into his life again.

After Mia’s death, he’d made a promise to himself. There could be no one else. He’d already had the best.

I’ll never let you go, Mia.

Brittany tapped her pen against the blank spiral notebook page. Fifteen minutes of brainstorming had yielded no results.

Nan had lived in this house ever since she’d gotten married at eighteen. After two days here, Brittany wasn’t sure Nan would be able to live on her own for much longer.

But what could she do about it?

At meals, Nan picked at her food. She most likely skipped eating altogether when left to her own devices. Her bony frame could use more nourishment.

Also, from the smell of it, Nan wasn’t bathing regularly. She used to shower first thing in the morning. When Brittany suggested she take a shower, Nan claimed she’d washed up yesterday, which was not true. How long had it been since she’d shampooed her hair?

Other things nagged at her, as well. The house was tidy, but dust covered every surface, and the floors hadn’t seen a mop in a long time. Yesterday afternoon, Brittany had scrubbed the house, but how long would it last?

She stretched her arms over her head. Nan was resting in her room. The Sunday service had tuckered her out.

After church, Gretchen Sable, a sweet older lady who was friends with Nan, had pulled Brittany aside, given her a paper with her number on it, patted her hand and told her to call her anytime.

At least the church was the same as it had been a decade ago. Sure, the old blue carpet had been replaced, but familiar worship songs had filled the air and the message of grace had not fallen on deaf ears. It reminded Brittany of her church back home.

That was another thing to thank her grandmother for—Nan was the one who’d told her about Jesus and encouraged her to pray.

The last time she’d attended a Sunday service here with Nan, she’d been eighteen and full of excitement about the future. Now? She hadn’t fulfilled her dreams. They’d never included scrimping to pay bills, teaching only a handful of classes and renting a run-down matchbox of an apartment.

Success had eluded her in every area.

The sharp pang of discouragement tore through her chest. Had her entire adult life been a waste? Had she made the wrong choices?

Her mother certainly thought so and wasn’t afraid to say it. As for Brittany’s father, she had his last name, but he had never been part of her life. Now that Mom was busy traveling as a corporate consultant, Brittany rarely talked to her, either. It wasn’t as if she cared what the woman thought anymore. God saw Brittany’s heart and didn’t judge her by her lack of progress. So why was she judging herself so harshly?

She tossed down the pen and massaged her temples. She was supposed to be coming up with solutions for Nan’s care, not wallowing in some strange what-had-she-done-with-her-life crisis.

The sound of a vehicle coming up the drive broke her concentration. She peeked out the window and recognized Mason’s truck. Why was he here? Whatever the reason, her pulse sped at the thought of seeing him again.

She put her coat on and shoved her feet into her boots to meet him on the porch. The air was crisp and the frozen countryside beautiful. He strode up tall, sure of himself. The cowboy boots, hat and jeans fit him like a glove. Her stomach did a pirouette. She looked for signs of Noah, but the boy wasn’t with him. Too bad. He was a cutie.

His eyes weren’t as hard and judgmental today. A girl could get lost in those depths.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

“I’d ask you inside, but Nan is sleeping right now.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Actually, I wanted to speak with you, too.”

“If this is about what happened way back when...” His expression grew wary.

“No.” She waved him off. “It’s been a long time. We’ve both moved on with our lives.” She fought for a chipper tone. Talking to Mason used to be easy—from the day she’d met him until the day she’d left. This awkwardness felt wrong—understandable, but wrong. “I wanted to talk to you about Nan. About how she’s doing.”

He widened his stance, crossing his arms over his chest. Formidable.

“I don’t like it when you tower over me. I know it’s cold, but let’s sit.”

His left eyebrow cocked skyward, but he followed her to the rocking chairs on the covered porch.

She sat in one and waited while he settled into the other. She was all too aware his knee was only inches from hers. “Nan isn’t the same.”