Big Sky Christmas. C.J. Carmichael
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sure you’d love living so close to them.”
That part was true. But it was living near Olive that had her worried.
“Trust me, your son will be a lot happier growing up on a ranch than he would be in town. Don’t you think it’s what Brock would have wanted?”
Winnie didn’t know what to say to that. Olive had a point. Brock probably would want her and Bobby to move to his cabin.
“In fact—” Olive’s eyes sparkled as an idea struck her “—why don’t I ask Bonny to freshen up the place today and then Corb can drive his truck into town and help you pack? I bet we could get most of your belongings moved tonight.”
Tonight.
Tonight?
“But—” Winnie floundered.
“I’ll stop in at Molly’s Market and pick up some groceries to stock your cupboards and the fridge. And I’m sure—”
“Wait,” Winnie finally said. “This is such a kind offer. But may I think about it a few days?”
“What’s to think about? I’m not just offering you a place to live, Winnie. I plan to sign over the papers. The cottage will belong to you, free and clear.”
It was incredibly generous. And yet, to Winnie, it still felt like a trap.
Olive placed her hand over Winnie’s. “You’re a mother now. And mothers put their children’s needs before their own. I’m sure it’s convenient for you to be close to your work. But think about Bobby. Your apartment is just too small. I’ve had three sons, so I know what boys need, and that’s space. Room to play and run and explore.”
Winnie stared mutely at Brock’s mother. In the back of her mind she registered the fact that the ladies in the booth beside them had left and some new customers had come in. But she didn’t look up to see who they were, or if Dawn needed help.
Right now all she could focus on was Olive.
The older woman had hit a nerve when she’d said a mother had to put her child’s interests first.
Was she being selfish by not taking Olive up on her offer?
“Maybe when Bobby’s older we could move into Brock’s cabin,” she finally said. “But he’s still small. My apartment is fine for now.”
Olive must have been so sure she was winning her case. Now her brow furrowed with consternation. “Are you serious? But isn’t it a one bedroom?”
Winnie didn’t want to answer. Because she knew Olive was right, that she needed a bigger space. There had to be another solution. If only—
And then, suddenly and unbelievably, Jackson was standing by their table. Winnie gazed up from his boots, to his worn jeans, his open jacket, his guarded face. He touched the tip of his hat. “Olive.” He nodded to the older woman, then to her. “Winnie.”
“Hello, Jackson.” Olive’s greeting was clipped. She clearly wasn’t pleased at the interruption.
But Winnie sure was. “Hi there, Jackson. Why don’t you sit down while I bring you both some coffee and cinnamon buns?”
“I didn’t come for food,” Jackson said quickly. “Just wondered when you wanted me to start work on that second bedroom for the apartment.”
She stared at him blankly. But only for a second. And then she smiled. “The sooner, the better.”
“This week is looking good. If I got some measurements now, I could have the supplies by Friday.”
“Sounds perfect.” Winnie turned back to Olive. “Bobby and I are going to be okay for the time being. But I do appreciate your offer. And I will definitely keep it in mind.”
Olive gathered her purse, then stood. Her gaze flickered sharply from Jackson to Winnie, then back again. She wasn’t a woman who liked losing. And Winnie could tell she wasn’t ready to throw in the towel yet.
“We’ll talk about this some more over dinner tonight.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.
* * *
“WHAT A HERO. Thank you.” Winnie gave Jackson a grateful smile after Olive left the café. “Let me at least get you a coffee for the road.”
“It was nothing. Don’t bother.” She looked so pretty today in a soft blue sweater and jeans. He liked the way she wore her clothes. They hugged her curves without being so tight they looked like they’d shrunk in the wash. Suddenly remembering he shouldn’t even be noticing, he raised his gaze and followed her back to the kitchen.
“How did you guess that Olive had me cornered?”
“Been there myself, far too many times.”
“That was a brilliant cover story. Wish I could think so fast on my feet.” Ignoring his refusal, she poured coffee in a to-go cup, snapped on a cover then tried to hand it to him.
“I don’t—”
“—like coffee,” she finished. “Right. You’re forgetting I know you. I’ve seen you come in from the barn and head straight to the coffeemaker in the Lamberts’ kitchen. Black, right?”
“No thanks,” he insisted. Avoiding this place had always taken an enormous amount of willpower on his part. He had a feeling that once he tasted her coffee it would be even harder. “By the way, I wasn’t just blowing smoke with that offer.”
She put a hand on one of her curvy hips. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I can make you a second bedroom up there.”
She looked puzzled. “You can? But have you even seen the apartment?”
She’d invested an inheritance from her grandmother into the building several years ago, after she and Brock were engaged. The charming brick house on Main Street had seemed perfect at the time. She’d opened her café on the main floor and planned to live in the second-floor apartment until the wedding, after which she’d move to the ranch with Brock and find a renter for her apartment.
Things hadn’t worked out that way. But that had been the plan.
“Brock showed me around once, before you moved in. There’s an L-shaped living room, right?”
She nodded.
“Well, if we built a wall, you could have a separate room for Bobby. It would be small. But then, so is he, right?”
“Are you serious? You’d really do this for us?”
“Sure.” He didn’t believe he could atone for Brock’s death. But he could help his son—not to mention the woman who had been left standing at the altar. In fact, he felt obliged to do so. “It won’t take long. A few weeks. And I’d time the work for when you and Bobby are out.”
That would be a key part of the arrangement. The last thing he was trying to do here was spend more time with Winnie.
“I’m planning to work every day from ten to two. Bobby will be out at his babysitter’s.”
“Perfect. I’ll come by after morning chores and be back in time for the evening ones.” Luckily, being November, there wasn’t that much going on at the ranch. And he’d still have evenings to spend with Maddie. The sickly woman was no longer able to go out, and he usually made them supper, after which they played a round of cribbage then watched the news.
It was a simple, unexciting existence. But he felt good, knowing that his presence made a real difference to Maddie Turner’s life. Plus the older woman was pleasant company, undemanding even in her poor state of health.
“Let’s take a quick look right now. If you have time?”
He hesitated only a second. “Sure.”