A Cowboy Christmas. Линда Гуднайт
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cell in Caleb’s stupid body was thrilled when she agreed.
* * *
The next morning was as cold as Antarctica but Caleb barely noticed. He was warm on the inside, thanks to Kristen and her birthday party ideas.
Collar turned up against the wind, Caleb poured feed into a trough while Pops was inside the barn, bottle-feeding the orphaned calf.
Caleb hummed a silly song, one Kristen had assigned as his penalty for losing one of her games. He still couldn’t believe how much fun he’d had playing those games and listening to Kristen laugh. She could be a bossy thing, forcing him and Pops to play kids’ games he’d heard of but never played. Charades. Minute to Win It, which had consisted of tossing marshmallows into a cup while standing on a strip of duct tape six feet across the room. When his toe had crossed the line, mostly on purpose, Kristen had gleefully penalized him. It was like living the childhood he’d never had.
Funny how something so simple with the right person could make a man this happy.
He hung the bucket on the fence and headed inside the barn, out of the wind. He’d have a busy day, moving hay to various pastures, counting cows, checking heifers. The weatherman was predicting a winter storm this weekend. He might have to cancel his weekly meeting at the fitness center with the group of gangly, struggling boys he mentored for Child Services. He disliked canceling but if there was the slightest chance of a storm, he had to get the animals ready. The house, too. With Pops on dialysis, a power outage could spell disaster.
Pops came out of a stall, empty bottle in hand. The calf followed, nudging at him. Rip moved between man and animal to force the little one back inside.
“Somebody had a good time last night,” Pops said.
Was he still humming? “Can’t remember laughing that much in a while.”
“It was good for you. Good for both of us.”
For those hours, he’d forgotten Kristen’s true reason for being at the ranch. He’d even forgotten how sick Pops was. “Hard to imagine you’re all that sick, the way you were hopping around on one foot last night.”
Pops gave Rip’s head a rub. “Couldn’t think of any other way to act out a flamingo. I sure ain’t pink.”
They both chuckled, remembering.
“She’s a fine girl.”
Caleb took off his gloves, slapped them against his thigh, not even pretending not to know who Pops meant. “Can’t argue that.”
“Pretty. Smart. A real Christian, the kind you don’t find every day.”
“What are you getting at, Pops? If you’re matchmaking, save your breath.”
“And what if I am? I may not be that old, but if things don’t look up real soon, I won’t be around this ranch forever.”
Caleb clenched his hands. “Don’t talk like that.”
“Son, death is a fact of life for everyone. My ticket to heaven was paid in full by Jesus a long time ago. I’m not scared of dying, but I am scared of leaving you alone.”
Emotion thickened in Caleb’s throat. He couldn’t have gotten a word out if he had to.
“See, it’s like this, Caleb. When I adopted you, you thought I was helping you. Truth was, I was the one in need. I needed you.”
“Aw, Pops.” He stared at his boots, chest aching.
“I don’t have a lot of regrets. I’ve lived most of my life the way I thought the Lord wanted me to. But I have one, a big one.”
“What’s that?”
“I regret not marrying and having the kind of family Kristen talks about. You missed out on that.”
“So did you.”
“Too late for me, but not for you. I want to see you settled before I leave this planet. I want to dance a Cajun jig at your wedding, and if God wills, stick around long enough to hold my first grandchild.”
“She’s got a boyfriend.”
“You sure about that? Couldn’t tell it by the way she was laughing with you last night. Sparkly-eyed, she was, looking at you. And you’re looking back.”
“Kristen’s nice to everyone.”
“Keep telling yourself that, boy, and she’ll marry somebody else before you get out of first gear. A woman like Kristen is special. She won’t be left on the vine too long.”
“You’re shivering. Better get in the house.”
Pops pinned him with a glare. “Changing the subject won’t change the facts. You think about what I said. You don’t want to be ten years down the road like I was, kicking yourself for being stubborn and stupid.”
With that, Pops whirled and marched out of the barn, his frail body bent into the wind. Frigid air whipped in behind him. Caleb shivered, too. He’d never heard Pops talk like that and it scared him. He’d always thought Pops was happy with the bachelor life, and he’d figured if it was good enough for Greg Girard, it was good enough for Caleb.
Pops’s admission got him thinking. About Kristen. And kids. She’d be a fantastic mother. She’d read to her kids and rock them to sleep and throw wonderful birthday parties. Stuff he’d only fantasized about.
What would it be like to be part of that? To have his own family, his own kids, to have Kristen at his side forever?
He rubbed both hands over his face with enough vigor to cause a rash.
All the talk in the world didn’t change the facts of who he was. No matter what Pops thought, Caleb didn’t stand a chance with a woman like Kristen.
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