Her Christmas Protector. Terri Reed
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he came out to the barn and fed the horses. He could assign the job to one of the hands, but the chore had been his when he was younger and somehow the task helped to relieve his grief over his father’s passing. Hard physical labor helped get him through the worst of the pain.
When he’d first arrived, his father had barely been alive. If only he’d come home earlier, Luke thought for the millionth time as he pitched hay into the first stall. Those last few hours together hadn’t been enough time to say all the things Luke had wanted to say. He hadn’t told his father how much he admired him or how grateful he was to have had him as a father. Luke would always regret the years apart. The years of silence.
Once the funeral was over, Luke had harnessed his energies to the ranch. Luke started the re-fence on the entire acreage, started repairs on the barn and the corral. Chores that should have been taken care of long ago.
His next project, he decided, would be the main house. It needed a new roof and the porch could stand some work. Staring at the structure through the double doors of the barn, he pictured a swing on the front porch. His mother would like that. Luke shook his head in wry amusement. He shouldn’t be looking for more reasons to stay.
His unit needed him.
It was past time for him to wrap things up on the ranch so he could leave right after Christmas. He could hire out the work that needed to be done. And for sure hire some more hands to replace the two that had left. His foreman needed a vacation, as well.
The burden of responsibility made Luke’s shoulders ache.
At least he’d done something right by hiring Faith. For the past three days she’d been a constant companion to his mother. When he left he would be assured that his mom would be in good hands.
He picked up more hay with the pitchfork just as Faith stepped out onto the porch into the sunshine. He took a deep breath and enjoyed the view, noticing the way winter sunlight danced off her golden hair, reminding him of Christmas lights. Bright and shining. Beautiful.
Her light wool coat, buttoned to the top, looked warm, but wouldn’t hold up once it snowed again. She wrapped slender hands around a steaming mug and walked to the porch railing. Leaning her hips against the wood, she stared out at the scenery and sipped from the cup.
Luke knew what she was seeing; he’d stood in the exact spot too many times to count. From that vantage point, one could view the cattle grazing and the Three Sisters Mountains—Faith, Hope and Charity—rising majestically in the distance.
Studying Faith’s profile, he wondered, what’s your story? A part of him wanted to delve deep and find out what she was hiding from. But he’d already decided he wasn’t going to get any more deeply involved.
Faith turned her head toward the barn and Luke knew the exact moment she saw him. Her eyes crinkled at the corners and her generous mouth curved upward into a stunning smile. His pulse quickened. For a heartbeat, Luke almost convinced himself she was glad to see him.
Feeling like a schoolboy caught staring at his teacher, he raised his hand in greeting, and sucked in his breath when she sat the mug down and pushed away from the railing. Mesmerized, he watched her walk across the porch and down the stairs, every movement flowing from her with graceful ease.
From around the corner of the house Brandy bounded up to Faith, who bent to nuzzle the dog’s neck. A ridiculous sense of jealousy tore through Luke. He rolled his eyes. You can’t be jealous of your dog. But he would’ve given anything to be on the receiving end of Faith’s affection.
Faith and Brandy came forward and stopped steps from where he stood.
Luke tipped his hat. “Morning.” Up close, she was even more attractive.
“Good morning, Luke.”
He tore his gaze away from hers with effort and stared down at Brandy. “Seems you found yourself a friend.”
Her hand stroked behind the dog’s ears. “Yes, I have.”
“It’s good to have friends,” Luke remarked, once again plagued by questions about this woman.
“Uh-huh.”
The noncommittal answer made him frown. “Did you leave many friends behind?” he asked.
Visibly tensing at his words, she clasped her hands together, the knuckles turning white. “Some.” The single word echoed in the barn.
“It’s hard leaving behind the people you love.” He said it more as a statement than a question, knowing firsthand how hard it was to walk away from the important people in his own life. And how difficult it would be to do again.
“Yes, it is,” she agreed softly.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head, her expression wary.
“I’m a good listener.” What was he doing? He’d told himself he wasn’t going to do this.
She gave him a tentative smile. “Thanks, I’ll remember that. Actually, I was hoping you’d help me get your mother downstairs when you have a chance. She’s been walking around upstairs but she’ll need help negotiating a flight of stairs. The first time we try, I feel you should be present.”
“Sure. When I finish here I’ll be right up.”
“Great. Dottie will be so pleas—” She stopped and cocked her head to one side.
The crunch of gravel sounded on the drive. But from where they stood they couldn’t see the vehicle.
“Are—are you expecting someone?” Faith’s voice changed.
Luke heard and saw the fear sweeping over her. “No, but people—friends—stop by all the time.”
The vehicle on the drive stopped and the sound of a door opening and closing echoed in the chilly air.
In one swift, graceful motion, Faith darted to a darkened corner of the barn where she pressed her back against the wall, her hands fisted at her sides.
“Faith, you’re safe here—” Luke was silenced by the finger she put to her lips and the look of terror on her face.
“Okay, God, please cover me,” Luke mumbled and moved closer, positioning himself between Faith and the door. A brief look of comprehension passed across her features before they heard the heavy footfalls coming toward the barn. Each step drew the unknown closer.
Luke tensed in response to Faith’s palpable apprehension. But how could he protect her when he didn’t know what she was afraid of?
A small, panic-born whimper escaped her as a man stepped into view.
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