Kissed by a Rancher

“Thanks, no. I’ll follow you.”

“We’ve been singing. I play the piano or leave it to a guest.”

They entered a large living room that ran almost the length of the east side of the house and was furnished in early American maple with a hardwood floor and area rugs. A fire burned low in the fireplace, adding to the inviting appeal of the room. Two small children slept in adults’ arms. Five children sprawled on the floor or in an adult’s lap. A couple of men stood to offer Abby a seat. Smiling, she thanked them and asked the men to sit.

“We’ve been waiting. Let’s sing some more,” someone said.

“Folks, this is another guest—Josh Calhoun of Dallas, Texas,” Abby said, smiling and glancing at him while he acknowledged her introduction with a nod and wave of his hand.

People said hi as Abby crossed the room to slide onto the piano bench. She played a song Josh had heard his grandmother play, a song from his childhood that he was surprised to discover he still knew when he joined in the singing.

As they sang, he watched her play. She was not his type in any manner, other than being a woman. He couldn’t understand his reaction to her. She was plain, with her hair in an unflattering thick ponytail, and she wore no makeup. She ran a bed-and-breakfast inn in a small west Texas town. He would never ask her out.

He looked out the window at the howling storm blowing heavy snow in horizontal waves. Snowflakes struck the warmer storm window, melted slightly, slid to the bottom and built up along the frame. It was a cozy winter scene, but he wished he were flying home tonight.

Relaxing, he leaned back in the chair and sang with the others while he reflected that he hadn’t experienced an evening like this in years. He felt as if he had stepped back to a different time and way of life, and he began to relax and enjoy himself.

After another half hour, Abby turned and slid off the piano bench to take a bow. “That should do for tonight’s songfest. Does anyone want hot chocolate? If so, I’ll be glad to make some. The entertainment room is open, and Mr. Julius said he will be in charge of the movie. Right now, for hot cocoa, just come to the kitchen.”

She left the room. People followed her out until Josh was the only one left. He turned off all the lights except one. He sat again, stretching out his legs and leaning back to gaze at the snow. A few red embers of the dying fire glowed brightly in gray ashes.

He heard tapping and looked again at the window. Sleet struck the glass, building up swiftly on top of the snow at the bottom. He placed his hands behind his head. He couldn’t go anywhere or do anything for the rest of the night and probably all day tomorrow. As a peaceful contentment filled him, he thought that an unplanned holiday had befallen him, and he intended to enjoy it.

“You don’t want any hot chocolate?”

He glanced around to see Abby entering the room. As he stood, she motioned to him to be seated. “No, thanks,” he said. “I’m enjoying the quiet and the storm now that I’m inside and it’s outside. I’m beginning to think I’m getting a much-needed vacation.”

“That’s a good way to look at being stranded. I usually let the fire burn out this time of night. Did you plan to sit here a lot longer?” she asked.

“I’m fine. Let the fire die. I’ll turn out the light when I go. If you aren’t going to watch the movie, sit and join me,” he said.

“Thanks. I will while I can. Mr. Julius knows how to deal with the movie.”

“My cabdriver said you’re single. This is a big place to run by yourself.”

“I’m definitely not by myself,” she said, smiling as she sat in a rocker. “I have a long list of people I can rely on for help. I have a brother and a sister nearby, and my grandmother lives here part of the time. I can turn to her for advice if I need it because she used to own and run this place.”

“So there are three kids in your family?”

“Right. I’m the oldest. The next is my brother, twenty-year-old Justin, in his second year at a nearby junior college on an academic scholarship. He helps with the bed-and-breakfast and lives at home with Mom. Arden, the youngest at seventeen, is a junior in high school, and she also works here at the inn and lives at home. What about you?”

“I’ve got two brothers and one sister. This is a big bed-and-breakfast—I’m surprised it doesn’t hold more people than you listed earlier.”

“I mentioned the people on the third floor who are permanent residents. My grandmother stays here about half of the year. I have two great-aunts who live here part of the year, and I have Mr. Hickman, who is elderly. His family is in Dallas. He’s told me that his married sons run a business he had. They have asked him to move to Dallas and live with them, but he grew up here and came back here when he retired and his wife was still living. I think she’s the one who wanted to return to Beckett because she still had relatives here. His wife was my grandmother’s best friend, so he lives here. He has a little hearing problem, but he’s in relatively good health. There is an elevator the elderly residents can take, so they don’t use the stairs. My aunts and my grandmother are gone right now—my grandmother at Mom’s and my aunts visiting their families.”

“Do you have to take care of them?”

“No, not really. I have a van and drive them to town once a week, and I’ll take them to church. My brother or sister or I take them for haircuts, little things. They just need someone around. By living here, they have that. My great-aunts’ families have scattered and are on both coasts. They don’t want to move, but they may have to someday. Right now, they’re happy here with my grandmother and our part of the family.”

“That’s commendable of you to let them live here. You’re young to be tied down to a bed-and-breakfast.”

“I’m over twenty-one,” she said, smiling at him. “Twenty-five to be exact.”

“This is a lot of responsibility,” he remarked, noting that her attire hid her figure, except for the V-neck of her sweater, which revealed curves. Also, even in suede boots, it was obvious she had long legs as she stretched them out and crossed her feet at her ankles.

“It’s fun, and I meet interesting people. I can work here in my hometown, actually work at home.”

“For some, working at home in your hometown is a drawback, not a plus,” he said, thinking he didn’t know a single woman like her with such a simple life.

“For me it’s a definite plus. I’ve never been out of Texas and never been out of my hometown much beyond Dallas or north to Wichita Falls or around west Texas, south to San Antonio once. I don’t really want to go anywhere else. Everyone I love is here.”

Thinking of his own travels, Josh smiled. “You’re a homebody.”

“Very much of one,” she said. “I suspect you’re not, and you sound as if you’re a busy man. Are you married, Josh?”

“No, I’m single, not into commitment at this point in my life. I travel a lot, and this is a job I like,” he said. “Or have liked. At heart I’m a rancher, which is why I came to Beckett to see about a horse.”

Big blue eyes studied him, and he thought again how easy it was to look at her.

“You have two vastly different interests—I guess, vocations—ranching and the corporate world,” she said. “Does your family live close?”

My siblings are here in Texas, but our parents retired in California. Are both your parents next door?”

“Mom is. She’s divorced. She’s Nell Donovan, a hairdresser who has a shop in her house. Her story is well-known in town, so it’s no secret—my dad ran off with a younger woman he met on his business travels. That was when I was fourteen. He traveled a lot.”

“Sorry that he left your mother and your family.”

“We hardly saw him anyway because of his job.”

“So besides this inn and family, what do you like to do?”

“Gardening, swimming. I’d like to have a pool here, but so far, that hasn’t worked out. I like little kids. Once a week I have a story hour at the library and read to preschool kids. I also like movies and tennis.”

The thought flitted to mind again to ask her to dinner when the storm was over and the snow melted. Instantly, he vetoed his own thought. She was the earnest type who would take everything seriously. With a sigh, he turned back to look at the fire, trying to forget her sitting so close. It was even more difficult to ignore the tingly awareness of her that he couldn’t shake.

“Is there a guy in your life?”

“Sort of,” she said, smiling. “There’s someone local. We’ve grown up knowing each other, and we like the same things, so we occasionally go out together. I always figure someday we’ll marry, but we seldom talk about it. Neither of us is in a hurry.”

“That doesn’t sound too serious,” Josh said, wondering what kind of man the guy was to have that type of relationship.

She shrugged. “We’re after the same things. He wants never to move from Beckett, and I don’t either. Our lives are tied up here. He’s an accountant, and we’re both busy. It’s pretty simple.”

They lapsed into silence. Josh wondered if in a few months he would even remember her.

“I hope no one else appears on your doorstep and wants shelter,” he remarked after a time. “I have two blankets, and I’d feel compelled to give him a blanket and let him sleep on the floor in the room I have.”

“I’ve turned off the porch light, and I can’t take anyone else. In the morning I’ll have to cook for thirty-five people. We barely have enough of certain food items, and my brother and sister are both out of town, so I’m without help. I can’t handle another person.”