Western Christmas Wishes. Brenda Minton
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This was his version of healing.
Being alone had worked for him until Gladys had made him her pet project. She had a way of invading a person’s life. All of his usual tactics for running people off—growl a little, glare a lot, make himself unavailable for small talk—hadn’t worked on Gladys. Or Capital T, as he liked to call Rose.
He spotted the girl inside the stable. His dog spotted her at the same time and loped off to join her.
The city girl tromped along behind him, not quite able to keep up with his longer strides. He smiled, picturing her back there in her high-heeled boots, a knit scarf around her neck and her red hair bouncing around her face. It was cool enough that her hazel eyes would flash and her cheeks would turn a shade of pink that would clash with her complexion.
He stopped when he reached the stable doors and didn’t go inside as he’d planned. With an about face, he almost bumped into Gladys’s granddaughter as she marched up behind him. He’d been right about how she would look. Her hazel eyes flashed and her cheeks were pink from the cold. He refocused over her shoulder to the view of the lake. From here the view was stunning. In winter the water appeared to be the biblical crystal sea, it was that clear.
“Where is Rose?” the city girl asked, a little out of breath.
“Probably bothering my cat. She had a new litter of kittens and Rose won’t leave them alone.”
As if on cue, the teen appeared. She had a kitten cuddled against her face but her smile dissolved when she spotted them. Wary dark eyes focused in on their visitor.
“Who is she?” Rose asked, brushing short dark hair back from her face.
“I’m Laurel Adams. Gladys’s granddaughter.”
“Oh.” Rose shot him a look that made him think he’d just gained enemy status. But it hadn’t been his idea to call the granddaughter and ask her to come to Oklahoma.
“Gladys sent for me,” Laurel informed her.
“I’m not sure why,” Rose went on, in Rose-like fashion. Full-throttle, take-no-prisoners, no-holds-barred. That was Rose. “It isn’t as if you know her or she knows you. You haven’t seen her in ten years.”
“Nine,” Laurel countered.
“Oh! Nine. That’s so much better.” Rose rolled her eyes heavenward. “I have to take the kitten back to her mother. I’ve been staying with Kylie West. I’ll have to go get my stuff.”
“Get your stuff?” Laurel asked, her hands jammed into her pockets.
Rose smirked but then softened the look into a somewhat sympathetic expression. Cameron watched the two of them, wondering when the drama would play out so that he could get back to the horse he’d been working with.
“If you’re here, I should probably stay with you. Right?”
Laurel looked a little panicked. “I’m really not sure.”
Her gaze shot to him, asking for intervention.
Cameron took a step back. “I raise horses, not teenagers. If I were you, I’d go visit Gladys and find out what she’s up to.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll unload my luggage and then we’ll make a trip to town. Oh, I need the key.”
“I’ll walk you down there. The lock is tricky and there are a few things I should show you.” He didn’t know why he offered. He could tell her the things she needed to know and the lock wasn’t that tricky.
“I’m sure we can manage,” she told him.
“Still, I’d rather make sure you’re all settled. That’ll keep you from knocking on my door at midnight.”
Before Laurel could say anything, he started for the path that led back to Gladys’s house. Rose caught up with him, walking on his right side because she knew that he preferred to see the person walking next to him. He glanced down, noticing a suspicious movement in her coat pocket, and decided he’d ignore it for now.
But he couldn’t ignore the fact that he was getting dragged further and further into Gladys Adams’s life. First it had been his elderly neighbor pushing him to attend church. And then Rose had shown up. Now the granddaughter.
The guesthouse, situated down a trail from the main house, was no longer feeling like the sanctuary it had been when he first moved off Mercy Ranch.
He could have gone anywhere to start his new life but he’d decided to settle in Hope, Oklahoma, the town that had given him a second chance. Jack West and his ranch for wounded warriors had been a huge part of his recovery.
And the place where he’d grown up no longer felt like home. The ranch in Texas had been sold. His siblings had all moved away. He’d needed somewhere to put down roots and rebuild his life.
“Where is the nursing home?” Laurel Adams asked as they neared the house.
“On the highway, heading toward Grove. If you’re familiar with the area, it’s the road on the right, before the bridge.”
Her face scrunched but she didn’t say anything, and instead glanced at Rose. If she thought Rose would give her directions, she was wrong. No doubt Rose would lead her on a wild-goose chase.
He pulled the house key out of his pocket and showed Laurel how to turn it while jiggling the door handle. She watched, leaning in close. She smelled good, like herbal shampoo and a light perfume, something not too sweet or heavy. He liked it.
A lot.
He pulled back and handed over the key.
“Is that it?”
“No, you’ll need to know where the breaker box is. If you run the dishwasher, microwave and coffeepot at the same time, a breaker will flip. You’ll have to reset it.”
“I don’t plan on it,” she said, then nodded and relented. “Okay, go ahead and show me.”
Behind them, Rose giggled. He shot her a look and she tried for innocent but then she waggled her eyebrows and glanced at Laurel’s back. He shook his head. Rose nodded, and then suddenly remembered the object in her pocket and her hand went back in, protectively covering the kitten she was pretending she didn’t have.
He continued guiding Gladys’s granddaughter through the house. The tour included information on the tricky breaker box, showing her how to reset the furnace thermostat, then telling her about the stray dog that wasn’t Gladys’s, but she fed the mongrel, anyway.
Rose occasionally gave him a pointed look and he tried to avoid eye contact with the teenager. When she started jerking her head toward the granddaughter and nodding, he aimed a finger at her to stop her nonsense. He remembered his little sister doing the same thing to him when she thought he ought to like a specific girl.
He was only too glad to bid both of them goodbye and head back to his place. He was on his own again. They were on their own.
Of course it wouldn’t be that simple. Christmas was just weeks away and the little town of Hope fairly buzzed with Christmas cheer. Laurel Adams was in his life for at least a week, maybe longer if her meddling grandmother had any say in the matter.
Knowing Gladys the way he did, he knew that Christmas would have its share of surprises.
“How long are you staying?” the girl in the passenger seat asked without looking at Laurel.
“A week or two.”
“Figures.”
Laurel kept driving, looking for the turn before the bridge that Cameron Hunt had mentioned. “What does that mean?”
“Aunt