Her Cowboy Till Christmas

“Maybe if you visited more often, you would have known.” He winced at his gruff tone and the harsh words. The dig, while true, pricked him with shame. He’d been studying the Bible more, thanks to Gabby and Eden and their Tuesday meetings, and one of the concepts they were all working on was choosing not to be bitter.

It was hard.

“How bad is she?” Brittany stepped forward, seemingly unmoved by his rudeness.

“Nothing I can’t handle. If you’ll excuse me.” He pivoted, called to Noah and petted one of the cats before picking the boy up and marching straight outside.

He’d been taking care of Nan for a long time. Brittany didn’t need to worry about it. He’d take care of the elderly woman until the day she died. She was as close to family as he had. Without her, he and Noah would still have the Pages, but it wasn’t the same. Not for him, anyway.

Lately he’d been feeling like it was him against the world.

He thought of Ryder coming out this afternoon. For the first time since finding out he had a twin, Mason started to embrace the idea of having a brother.

“Do you need any clothes?” An hour later, Brittany sat on the living room floor folding the worn pants and shirts she’d taken out of the dryer. From the looks of it, Nan hadn’t been clothes shopping in years. She pulled another sweatshirt out of the basket. In fact, a lot of things Brittany had assumed about Nan were questionable, like her ability to live independently out here on her own.

Before arriving, she’d assumed her grandmother was fine, still able to drive and shop for herself, and she’d assumed incorrectly. Nan was not fine. And Mason could claim he’d handle it, but Nan was her responsibility. Not his.

As for Mason’s parting shot at her...

She sighed. He was right. She’d neglected Nan. Could her grandmother live by herself much longer?

“Did you say something?” Nan looked up from where she sat in the recliner. A game show blared from the television.

“Why don’t I take you shopping? I’d like to get you a new outfit.” She pasted on her brightest smile and stacked another shirt on the pile.

“I’ve got a closet full of clothes, honey.”

A closet full of outdated clothes that were too big. Maybe she could persuade Nan to go into Rendezvous and do a little shopping during the week. But did the small town even have a clothing store? She could always order a few items online.

After folding the final item, she rose and checked the time. It had been over an hour since Mason had left. Noah was the definition of adorable. He looked like his daddy. And that was a good thing.

Mason had grown more handsome since she’d last seen him. Broad shoulders, slim hips, muscular arms—he was all cowboy. His dark blond hair and caramel-brown eyes had always made her look twice at him. And the way her skin prickled with awareness when he’d been in the room earlier proved she wasn’t immune to the man.

But now he wore an air of resignation, and every word he said had a bite to it.

He’d changed.

Grown harder. Gruffer.

Losing his wife must have been devastating.

As Nan’s breathing settled to a soft snore, Brittany went to the kitchen to prep the fridge. It was stuffed with leftovers and rotting produce. Gross. She pulled out a trash bag and tossed the moldy and wilting food, then ran a soapy cloth over the fridge’s shelves. Much better. The two cupboards where Nan kept her dry goods were in decent order.

The sound of a vehicle approaching alerted her Mason was back. She debated her next move. Hide in her bedroom so he couldn’t hurt her with accusations she already felt bad about? Or stay here and take his barbs straight on?

She deserved them. She’d failed Nan.

All the summers with her grandmother stood in her memories like happy greeting cards ready to be picked up and opened whenever she needed cheering. She loved Nan, and although she hadn’t been able to spend much time with her in years, she wasn’t going to let her down now. Not with her health declining.

Brittany opened the front door. Mason held brown paper bags in each hand, and Noah lugged a plastic bag as if it weighed a hundred pounds.

“How much more is there?” she asked.

“Another bag and the pellets for the water softener. I’ve got it.”

“I’ll put these away.” She took one of the paper bags from him, and her hand brushed his. Awareness zipped through her, and a lump formed in her throat. This man—this stranger—had been her best friend most of her life. And now they couldn’t even have a civil conversation.

His cheeks grew pink and he hustled back outside.

“Where does this go, Miss Bwittany?” Noah let his bag drop and wiped his forehead as if he was exhausted.

“What’s in it?” She willed her emotions back into place and gave the boy what she hoped would pass for a smile.

“Toiwet paper.” His lisp was so cute.

“Hmm...” She tapped her finger to her chin. “Where should we put the toilet paper?”

“The bathroom?” He took one of the handles and dragged the bag down the hallway as she set the milk and cream in the fridge. He ran back to her and peeked into the bags. “Can I help?”

“Sure.” She pointed to the crackers and cookies. “Why don’t you set these in the cupboard over there?”

He grabbed the cookies, threw open the cabinet door, tossed the package on top of canned vegetables and repeated the process with the crackers. Then he made a production out of wiping his hands. “Now what?”

Mason walked between them with two large bags of salt pellets on his shoulder.

Noah followed him to the basement door, then ran back to Brittany. “I don’t like it down there.”

She bent down to Noah’s eye level. “I don’t, either. It’s dark and creepy.”

“Yeah. Cweepy.” He nodded, his expression a mixture of fear and excitement.

“Are you getting ready for Christmas?” She folded the paper bags.

“Yes! I’m getting presents! And Daddy’s taking me to Christmas Fest!”

“He is?” She motioned for him to follow her to the table. “What’s Christmas Fest?”

“Cookies and reindeer and an ice rink!” He climbed onto a chair on his knees.

“Well, that sounds like fun. I might have to check it out.”

Mason’s boots stomped up the steps. He looked at Noah. “Ready to go, buckaroo?”

“I wanna stay.”

“We need to get our own groceries home.”

Noah yawned, and Mason helped him put his coat on, then scooped him into his arms.