Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
I say my thanks to Peyton, wave away Ledger’s gratitude, and start on the two-mile walk back to my farm. Rudy keeps pace beside me, quiet and unassuming.
Flurries have just started swirling in the late afternoon air as my phone dings with the reminder of a missed call.
I call Mary back even though I already know what she’s going to say. She’s calling to invite me to the annual Christmas Eve bonfire on the Naughty List Ranch in Silver Bell Hollow. I used to love it. I went every other year because I loved reconnecting with my brothers. But since that Christmas three years ago, I haven’t been able to return.
Mary answers on the first ring. Hearing her voice floods me with memories of Christmases past. She greets me with her usual chipper tone. “How are you doing?”
I tell her I’m doing fine, ignoring the rough edge to my voice.
The little click she makes with her tongue against her teeth lets me know that she heard the rough edge too. She knows how tough things have been.
“Everything’s almost in order for the bonfire,” she tells me. Of course, she has everything organized and running like a top. If the media ever reported that Mary and Christopher Maas were secretly the couple in red with the magical workshop, I’d be the first to believe it.
“That’s good.” I brace myself for the question that’s coming next. She doesn’t mean for it to hurt. She doesn’t even fully understand what happened that year. Still, I’m sure enough of it got back to her.
Right on cue, Mary asks, “Should I set out a plate for you?”
I sigh. “No, I won’t be there.”
“Not even for a quick stop-in?” Her voice has that little note to it. The one that lets me know she’s disappointed but trying to hide it. I hate that it’s hurting her, but I hate smiling through the festivities even more.
“Not even for a quick stop-in,” I confirm. Christmas is only a few days away, and my big plan is to hide out on my farm and pretend the day doesn’t exist. It’s surprisingly easy to do for a cowboy. After all, the chores don’t take a day off just because it’s a holiday. The animals still need to be fed and watered, the fences mended, and the barn secured. There’s a lot for a cowboy to handle. Far too much to take time off.
She sighs softly. “Some of your brothers are coming.”
“I’m going to send you a really nice Christmas gift,” I answer, hoping my words will be a distraction to get her off this topic.
“I don’t want a gift, nice or otherwise,” she tells me. “I have everything I need right here.”
“You’re really going to like it.” In truth, I have no idea what I’m getting her. I’ll have to look up one of those lists on my phone, the kind that talk about what gifts women are wanting for Christmas this year.
My phone beeps in my ear, signaling I have a new text message. It’s a welcome relief to be able to say, “I’ve got to go. This could be important.”
I tell her I love her and end the call. But it’s only a message from Ledger, thanking me for my help.
I tap out a quick response and continue my solitary walk, which is over too fast when I spot my ranch hands coming out of the bunkhouse.
They look like they’ve had some spiked eggnog.
“Hey there, boss man,” Michael, one of my new ranch hands, calls out. He plucks off the red Stetson with fur from his head and puts it on mine. Then he breaks into a braying laugh, as do the other ranch hands who are with him.
Yep, someone definitely spiked the eggnog tonight.
“He’s cowboy Santa,” Michael declares, laughing again. He points with his thumb behind him. “We’re headed to Liquid Courage for a little bit of holiday cheer. Why don’t you come with us?”
“I’m good,” I tell him. He says something about cowboy Santa being grumpy, until I glare at him. Suddenly, the ranch hands are all too eager to disperse.
I watch them go and shake my head. Rudy watches them too, letting out a whine like he’s disappointed to be stuck with a grump like me for the holidays. “Come on, I have a good Christmas gift for you. Might even give it to you early.”
The sight of my two-story farmhouse with its green roof soon to be covered in snow and the cozy porch with the wicker furniture almost brings a smile to my face. I bought it a few years ago. It’s what I’ve worked hard for my whole life. But it’s only half the dream.
The other half involved the place being lit up with lights and little ones toddling about and a wife with a sweet smile. Someone who would look forward to cozying up with me on these cold winter nights.