Stranded For The Holidays

What had happened with Jonas’s wife? She wouldn’t dream of prying. Especially not with her own life in such disarray.

“It’s not healthy for him or Hunter.” Deirdre’s chin trembled. “I’m afraid Jonas has lost the ability to trust, to hope. He tries to hide it, but underneath the gruffness, he’s unhappy.”

AnnaBeth’s heart contracted. “I’m sorry.”

His mother swiped her finger under her eye. “I don’t mean to unload on you like this, but you’re very easy to talk to.”

AnnaBeth nodded. “I get that a lot. I suppose I have the kind of face that invites confidences. And I promise I’d never breathe a word of what you’ve told me to anyone else.”

“I sensed that about you immediately.” She cupped AnnaBeth’s cheek. “I think your ability to empathize is a rare gift. Your family must be so proud of you.”

AnnaBeth’s eyes moistened. “My family is complicated. And what happened yesterday will only make things worse.” She blinked away the tears.

Deirdre squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, honey, for what you went through yesterday. It must have been a painful blow losing your fiancé.”

“It’s not that.” AnnaBeth fingered her earring. “You see, I never loved Scott.”

Deirdre threw her a startled look. “You knew you didn’t love him?”

She took a quick breath. “Jonas and Hunter are blessed to have you. You’re also very easy to talk to.”

If only her real mother hadn’t died. If only Victoria had been like Deirdre Fielding, how different would her life had been?

Deirdre took off the lid and stirred the oatmeal on the stovetop. “Church has been canceled due to the snow. We’ll have our own service here at the lodge.” She stopped stirring. “But don’t feel obligated to participate if that’s not something you’re interested in.”

“I’d love to celebrate the Lord’s Day with your family, Miss Deirdre.”

Yet thinking about the uptown congregation which she’d fled from so ingloriously, she winced. Her father must have been livid at having to send home the wedding guests. Not to mention Victoria’s undoubted complete mortification.

AnnaBeth desperately needed a distraction. “How about I set the table?”

“Thank you, honey. That would be a help.” She opened a cabinet door and removed a set of porcelain bowls. “You know where to find the utensils.”

“Breakfast for four?” Pulling out a drawer, AnnaBeth tried for a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “Where is everyone?”

“Jonas is in the barn. And Hunter is getting in his roping practice on the terrace.”

She stopped counting spoons. “Roping?”

Deirdre ladled the steaming oatmeal into a bowl. “At last year’s championship, he won second place in his age division. He’s determined to win first place in March.”

She nudged the drawer shut with her hip. “There’s a roping championship for four-year-olds?”

Deirdre set the bowl of oatmeal on the red-checked place mat. “There sure is.”

After placing the spoons at each place setting, she began folding the napkins like Victoria had taught her. “He’ll win a trophy, I guess?”

Deirdre returned to the table with another bowl. “Not a trophy. A silver rodeo belt buckle.”

“For real?”

“Rodeo buckles mean bragging rights, even for a four-year-old.” Deirdre transferred a container of blueberries into a pottery bowl. “Hunter is simply following in his dad’s footsteps.”

“I didn’t realize Jonas was a rodeo champion.”

She handed AnnaBeth the bowl to put on the table. “Not in roping, but before Hunter was born Jonas spent a few years on the rodeo circuit as a bronc buster.”