A Texas Holiday Reunion. Shannon Vannatter Taylor
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here to lend a hand. Not to flirt. Be a help to your sister, not a hindrance.”
“We’ll be fine.” She gave each of her parents a reassuring hug. “Don’t worry, have fun, and get out of here or you’ll get held up at the airport and miss your flight.”
“Are you certain you’ll be all right? I hate for you to be alone through the Christmas rush.” Mom twirled a strand of Resa’s hair between her fingers. “We should have stopped taking orders months ago to cut your workload while we’re gone.”
“I’m fine. It’s only a few weeks. Juan can handle the ranch, Mac’s got the store. Emmett’s here to help and y’all will be back in time for Christmas.” She tried to sound convincing, and plastered on a smile. “You’ve looked forward to this trip your entire marriage.” She picked up a suitcase, handed it to Dad. “Now go.”
“You’re right.” Dad kissed the top of her head. “You’ve got this, with or without Emmett.”
“Hey.” Emmett glowered. “I came when you called, didn’t I? Don’t I get credit for that?”
“I’ll get a full report when we return.” Dad frowned. “No trifling with our employees. It’s against company policy.”
“If you trust me so little, why did you call me?” The hurt in Emmett’s tone was backed up by his wounded gaze.
But Dad didn’t soften. “Here’s your chance to show me what you got.”
“Stop worrying.” Mom clucked her tongue. “Emmett’s not a kid anymore. He’ll be fine.” She checked her watch. “We really should be going.”
Another round of hugs and Resa managed to hold the tears threatening to spill.
“Your mother made me promise not to check in,” Dad whispered. “But you’ll call if anything goes wrong?”
“I will. But it won’t.”
Mom tugged him out the door.
“You’re not coming back, are you?” Resa murmured to Emmett, just loud enough for him to hear.
“Of course not. You don’t need me hanging around. You got this.”
True. But just once, it would be nice to be able to count on her brother.
“I’ll be back for the Christmas open house this weekend, and then the night before their return.” Emmett followed them out, stashed their suitcases in the trunk of his Ferrari and helped Mom into the back seat.
Standing on the porch, Resa waved until they rounded a curve on the wooded property and were out of sight.
Guests began to disperse and she thanked each one for coming.
As soon as the last one exited, she crossed the lobby to help Landry, her friend and owner of the dude ranch, clean up.
“Resa, we need to talk.”
Mac.
She turned around to face him. There was Colson by his dad’s side.
“It’s business.” Mac gestured to the paneled door by the check-in counter. “Your friend said we could use the office.”
“Sure.” Why include Colson? He hadn’t been involved with the stores in six years. Resisting the urge to suck in a big breath, Resa crossed the foyer. Inside, Juan, the ranch foreman, waited in a nailhead wingback chair.
Mac settled on the leather sofa, with Colson flanking Juan in a matching chair.
“There you are.” The slight Mexican man straightened his left leg out in front of him. He’d always been kind and treated her with fatherly care. But today, his smile was jittery.
“What’s going on?”
“Have a seat.” Mac gestured to the sofa.
Nerves pinging—from Colson’s presence and Juan’s tone—Resa perched on the edge. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
“Just tell me.”
“As you know, I saw my doctor Friday.” Apology was thick in Juan’s voice. “He wants to do a knee replacement.”
Her jaw dropped. Please not until after Christmas. Not now. She couldn’t deal with not having a foreman. Not until Dad was here to fix it.
Stop being selfish. Focus on Juan. “Rest assured, I’ll take care of anything your insurance doesn’t cover.”
“I appreciate that, Miss Resa. It’s terrible timing. I wanted to tell you, but I knew if your folks knew, they’d cancel their trip.”
And they would have. It was just like Juan to know that. To worry about it.
“You just do what you need to do. When is the surgery scheduled?” Her ranch hung on his response.
“My doctor had a cancellation, so he can get me in Thursday. Or I wait for three months.”
Breath clogged in her chest. As in four days away. “I know how much pain you’ve been in. I don’t want you to put this off.”
“I need to go on leave as of now. Doc wants me to take six weeks afterward. I’m so sorry, Miss Resa.”
For a total of seven weeks, starting now. And what if the surgery wasn’t a success? What then?
But she tried not to let her distress show. “We’ll figure it out.”
“I took the liberty of doing that for you.” Juan turned to Colson. “I called Mr. Mac when I got the news.”
And that had what to do with Colson?
“Colson has agreed to fill Juan’s spot until your folks return. And if needed, until Juan can come back.” Mac’s tone was confident. As if all her worries were taken care of.
Colson. In Bandera. At her ranch. For three weeks. Maybe more. Her heart took a nosedive.
This could not be happening. She couldn’t let it.
Resa’s mouth opened, clamped shut, opened again. “But what about your job?”
Colson was certain her anxiety came from being stuck with him for the foreseeable future.
“I’m on leave.” He tried for a reassuring tone. “King’s Ranch can handle my absence.” But could she handle his presence?
Curiosity sparkled in her eyes, her question clear—why was he on leave? “There’s no need for you to come here.” The muscles in her throat worked overtime. “Don’t we have a hand who can take care of things, Juan?”
“They’re not ready, and we need to move fast while prices are down and invest in more cattle. I planned to make the trip to Fredericksburg next week. We need someone who knows good stock when he sees it.”
“The timing is perfect, with Colson’s experience as a foreman at the largest ranch in Texas for the last two years. And he’s available.” His dad focused on Resa, probably pondering her panic.
“Are you on medical leave?” Her gaze bounced back to Colson’s. “Because if that’s the case, we can’t put you to work here.”
“No. Nothing like that.” The horse Felicity had died riding flashed through his mind. The one he’d supposedly broken. After the incident, memories of her death had caused him to be constantly distracted and that inattention had almost cost a ranch hand his life when Colson had underestimated a longhorn. “My boss thought I needed some personal time.” To get his head and heart together.
“Oh.” Compassion was mirrored in the blue depths of her eyes. Clearly, she thought he was still grieving Felicity. More like wallowing in guilt.