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A Cowboy for Christmas: A Contemporary Christian Romance NOVELLA Page 2


  “Your mom still makes her blue ribbon apple cider, huh?”

  Still leaned over, Callie looked up at him. Several strands of blonde hair that had come loose from her braid fell across her face. The urge to reach over and brush them away tempted him, but he kept his hands to himself.

  “Sure does. Especially on days like this.”

  His mouth watered just thinking about it. Mrs. Gentry made the best cider he’d ever tasted.

  He removed the insulated overshoes he had over his cowboy boots.

  Callie took them from him and draped them over the foot-shaped drying racks made of grated metal before she did the same with her Thinsulate wool liners. She picked up a pair of barnwood brown Justin boots with orange loops on the shaft. Grabbing the pull tabs, she yanked them on.

  When she finished, he picked up his duffle bag, and followed her inside. Their boots echoed against the hardwood floor.

  Barb was busy at the stove stirring something. She glanced over at them. “Go ahead and get Dustin settled while I finish up here.”

  “Okay, Mom.” Callie looked up at Dustin. “You heard the lady.” She smiled, and his heart flipped. “Let’s go get you settled.”

  “Sounds good to me.” He followed Callie, thinking about how weird it was going to be staying the night in her parents’ home. He’d visited here more times than he could count, but he’d never spent the night before.

  As they headed through the large open kitchen and living room area, he looked over the adjoining rooms. Things hadn’t changed much. Except for the Christmas decorations. There were a few news ones he’d never seen before. A nativity set being one of them.

  “I see you still put up real trees.” He nodded toward the seven-foot pine tree in the corner covered with various ornaments and loaded with twinkling lights with a huge star on top.

  They stopped. She said nothing for a minute, then turned those blue eyes of hers up at him. “Tripp helped me get it.” That was all she said before she continued heading toward the basement stairs.

  Dustin remembered a time when Callie, her dad, her mom, and his family used to spend a whole afternoon searching for perfect blue spruce pine trees. And now, with her dad gone, he wondered how Callie and her mom endured it.

  To get his mind off of the disturbing thoughts, he looked about the room as he continued to follow Callie. A fire blazed in the wood stove with the glass door. On the rustic coffee table, lay a long centerpiece made of pine branches, Christmas bulbs, and lit candles. Everywhere he looked there were colorful Christmas decorations. Anything from a lit village complete with people, horses, trees, snowmen and houses, to snow globes, to candles, to candy dishes filled with colorful wrapped candies.

  The first thing he noticed when he glanced past the stairway into the hallway was that there weren’t any family photos hanging up there anymore. Only Callie’s school pictures.

  With her hand on the guardrail, Callie stopped and looked up at him. “Mom thought whoever Tripp sent to help us would be more comfortable with his own living quarters. We didn’t know it was going to be you, Dustin. Would you rather stay in one of the bedrooms up here or downstairs?”

  “Downstairs, if you don’t mind.” Sleeping upstairs in close proximity to Callie and Barb didn’t seem right.

  She nodded.

  At the bottom of the steps, Dustin hid his surprise. The once unfinished basement now looked like a large apartment, complete with a wood stove that Barb had obviously stoked, and filled with enough festive holiday decorations and twinkling lights that would even put Ebenezer Scrooge into the Christmas spirit. “Somebody’s been busy.”

  “Yeah, me.”

  “You finished the basement?” he asked, teasing her.

  “No, silly. I decorated it. Did a pretty good job of it too, I might add.” She chuckled.

  “You sure did.” He wanted to ask if her dad finished the room before he’d left, but he wasn’t about to broach that subject. He’d wait for her to first.

  She smiled. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

  He quickly glanced around the room as he followed her. The place had black leather furniture, a coffee table, end tables and a pool table at the far end. He noticed a kitchenette with a dining room set. Off from it was a large double glass sliding door that led out onto a deck.

  “Here you go.” She stepped off to the side. “Hope you like it.”

  Dustin stepped inside to find a King size bed covered with a flannel bear, elk and moose comforter and matching pillows, two large windows with matching curtains, two red leather recliners with an end table between them, two night stands with bear lamps, a tall dresser, and a bathroom off to the right. This was a lot nicer and bigger than the bunkhouse he lived in down in Longmont. He tossed his duffle bag on a nearby chair. “I suppose it’ll do.” He sent her a teasing grin.

  She bopped him on the arm. “There’s always the bunkhouse. I’m sure the skunks would enjoy your company.” Her eyes twinkled.

  He held up his hands. “Man this is great. This is awesome. Fabulous.”

  “Don’t overdo it. But,” she placed her finger on her lips and her eyes went to the ceiling. “Since you gloated so well, I’ll let you stay.”

  “Whew. That was close.” He laughed, loving and enjoying the familiar teasing. Something he had missed.

  “Better wash up. My mom’s got dinner waiting on us.”

  Dustin watched as Callie walked away. Being here with her was a dream come true. However, if his plan didn’t work, the dream would end come New Year’s Day.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  “Do you think Dustin liked his room,” Callie’s mother asked while they walked back and forth between the kitchen counter and the dining room table, carrying plates, silverware, and glasses.

  “What’s not to like, Mom?” She kissed her mother on the cheek. “You worry too much.”

  Her mom stopped and planted a hand on her hip. “I have reason to worry. After buying a new tractor and bailer, our funds are next to nothing.”

  “Mom, I’ve looked at the books and the bank balance. We’re doing fine. Selling the calves last month helped.”

  “Sometimes I feel so ashamed, Cal.” Her eyes lowered. “I’m the mother. I should be running this ranch, and worrying about the finances. Not you.”

  “Mom, remember. Dad signed the deed to this place over to us. Both of us.”

  “I remember. How could I forget? That’s the day he left with…” She closed her eyes and sniffled. “Ever since he left, it’s like my brain can’t function properly.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself, Mom.” Callie put her arm around her. “Your brain functions just fine, and you’re a very smart woman. After all, it was your idea to invest in the land Mr. Morgan sold. No one else wanted it, but you saw the potential in it, and because of that, we were able to buy extra bred cows. Those extra calves brought in a pretty penny.”

  Her mom shrugged off the compliment. “I couldn’t run this place without you and Tripp.”

  “We make a great team. Between the three of us, we’ve managed to put our heads together and get the ranch out of the red and even put some money away. We should be proud of what we’ve accomplished. Or I should say be proud of what God has accomplished for us.”

  Her mom shook her head, whispering, “I used to believe like that until your father left.”

  It broke Callie’s heart that her mom no longer trusted the Lord. But even though she no longer believed, she was always gracious and even went along with Callie’s praying at meals and talking about God, which Callie was thankful for.

  A loud clearing of a throat snagged Callie’s attention. She swung her attention toward the basement door. “Wow. When I said wash up, I just meant your hands.” Callie held back the whistle on the tip of her lips. The man sure cleaned up nice. He looked so sharp in his pressed blue jeans, blue-checkered flannel shirt, and his brown lace up Roper boots. Only thing missing was his brown cowboy hat. A hat that covered the nic
est, softest head of dark brown hair Callie had ever seen.

  “Yeah, well, I needed more than a quick hand wash. I hope I didn’t keep supper waiting, Mrs… um, Barb.” Dustin strode over to them, carrying himself with a confidence she’d always admired.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Dustin asked.

  It took every bit of willpower Callie possessed not to inhale deeply the manly, enticing, clean scent of Irish Spring soap floating around him, and to stop staring at him. The only way to do both was to give herself a good mental slap, which she did. “Here.” She handed Dustin the heavy platter loaded with steaming hot roast, potatoes, carrots, and onions. “You can carry this to the table.”

  “Um. Smells good.”

  So do you. “Mom makes the best roast of anyone.” Callie snatched the basket of fresh baked rolls off the counter, carefully picked up the gravy boat filled with rich brown gravy, and followed Dustin to the table.

  “Callie thinks I make everything the best, so don’t listen to her. I’ve ruined many a good meal in my day,” Callie’s mom said as she strode up behind them carrying a pitcher of milk and hot coffee.

  “She does. She’s just being modest.” Callie smiled up at Dustin.

  They set their food and drinks on the table.

  Callie quickly lit the red and white striped candles on the table centerpiece she’d made out of pine branches, pinecones, holly berries, and miniature gold, white, and blue ornaments.

  “Go ahead and sit down, Dustin.” Barb pointed to the chair next to Callie. “I’ll grab the cider and be right back.” She scurried over to the stove and was back at the table within a manner of seconds.

  Dustin held the chair for Callie and her mom before he lowered his tall from onto the chair. “Thank you.” Callie looked over at him and smiled even though it was strange seeing Dustin sitting here again after all this time and without his parents.

  She looked over at Dustin. “We pray before every meal. You don’t have to join us if you’re uncomfortable.” She said we, even though it was really only herself that prayed. Callie hoped that someday her mother would come around to believing in God’s love and forgiveness again.

  “I have no problem with prayer at meals. I’m a praying man myself.”

  Callie held back her surprise. She had no clue Dustin prayed. She wondered what else she didn’t know about him. Finding out over the next two weeks both scared her and intrigued her. Whatever she discovered about him, she would have to guard her heart because the handsome cowboy sitting next to her could steal it away in a second if she didn’t. He already had, he just didn’t know it. And she never planned on telling him either.

  Chapter Two

  After dinner, Dustin wasn’t quite sure what to do. Should he offer to help with the cleanup? Head downstairs? Or what?

  “Dustin, would you mind stoking the fires for me,” Barb asked, solving that problem.

  “Be happy to.”

  “Thank you.” She looked over at Callie. “Would you show him where the wood is, Cal?”

  Callie looked over at him, then back at her mom. “Mom, why don’t you show him? Then you can sit down and rest, and I’ll clean up the kitchen.”

  “Nonsense.” Barb brushed Callie’s offer away. “You’ve worked hard all day.”

  “And you haven’t?” Callie countered, her words soft not harsh.

  “I’m sure I can find the wood.” Dustin jumped into the conversation.

  “Callie can show you.”

  Dustin recognized Barb’s tone. He had heard that same one a million times from his own mother. The one that said the matter was settled and there was no more arguing about it any further.

  “You can start downstairs,” Barb continued, “and when you two finish, I would love it, Dustin, if you would join Callie and I in the living room. I’d love to catch up on what Sherry’s been up to since you all left. Besides, I made dessert, and I’d sure hate for those pies to go to waste.”

  “Around here. Not likely,” Callie said quicker than the snap of a whip. “You did make my favorite, right?” Callie’s blue eyes brightened with hope.

  “Yes, I made an apple one. And cherry too. And yes, we have ice cream.” Barb smiled, looking so much younger than she had when they first got to the house from changing the flat. “Now go, you two, and scoot.” Barb grabbed a T-towel and swatted at Callie, missing her by a good ten inches or better.

  Callie looked up at him. “When she’s in this mood, it’s best to just do as she says. C’mon, I’ll help you stoke the fires.”

  Callie strode toward the basement. Dustin had no choice but to follow her. When they finished stoking the woodstove down there, they headed upstairs to the living room.

  Squatting down in front of the woodstove, Dustin fit the split logs Callie handed him one piece at a time into the large metal stove. Something they had often done together when they were young. It was always their job at not only Callie’s house, but at his parents’ home too.

  “Do you want cherry or apple, Dustin?” Barb hollered.

  Dustin glanced across the open living room into the kitchen

  Barb stood at the kitchen counter, holding a pie slice, shaped spatula.

  “Cherry sounds good. Thank you,” he answered.

  “Ice cream on top? Off to the side? Or none at all? Coffee, hot apple cider, milk, or pop?”

  “Ice cream on top, please. Coffee sounds good.” He glanced back at the growing flames. He needed to hurry before they got too big and too hot for him to finish stoking. “Let me finish this, and I’ll come and get it.” Without waiting for her answer, he quickly and meticulously fit the last log Callie had placed on the floor for him before she headed into the kitchen. He shut the door tight, set the damper, and stood.

  With the wind howling outside and the snow blowing and splattering against the window, the heat from the stove felt great.

  Christmas music lilted through the room. Sleigh bells and silver ones spreading the season and its reason wrapped in joy and love.

  Barb and Callie stood at the kitchen counter. One scooped the pie, the other the ice cream. Within seconds, they both came, heading toward him, each carrying a tray. One had drinks on it, the other the pie alamode.

  Mrs. Gentry sat in one of the dark green leather recliners, Callie on the other, and Dustin sat on the matching couch opposite of them. The only thing separating them was the large rustic coffee table.

  It was nice sitting here with Callie again. Only thing missing was her dad and Dustin’s family. “Your house looks great, Barb. Mom used to go all out for Christmas. The day after Thanksgiving she had us boys out there stringing lights all over the outside of the house. On every window, every pole. Even the wood fence around our house. She had a life-size nativity set similar to the one you have guys have outside, and a ton of those big blow up things like yours too. This year though, she didn’t do anything. I don’t think she’s planning to either.”

  “Oh, why’s that?” Callie asked never taking her eyes off of him as she scooped a forkful of pie alamode and ate it. Ice cream clung to her upper lip.

  He wanted to get up and run his thumb over her lip to wipe it away. Just to see if her lips were as soft as they looked.

  Callie took her napkin and wiped her mouth, making it easier for him to concentrate on answering her.

  “I think Mom doesn’t care about Christmas this year.”

  “That’s not like Sherry. Sherry always had the best decorated place around here.” Barb lowered her coffee cup, the lines around her eyes crinkled.

  “I know. But, this year, Dad’ll be on the road. My brother Barry and his wife Trish moved to Wyoming. He got a ranch job up there. They moved at just the right time because Trish is going to have a baby come spring.”

  “How exciting,” Barb said.

  “Yeah, they’re pretty excited about it. I know my mom is. She loves being a grandma. Except she’s sad that my brother Calvin and Sally and their four children moved to Montana, an
d she won’t get to the see the grandkids open their presents.”

  “How sad for her. Where’s Dave at now?” Callie jumped into the conversation.

  “My brother Dave and his wife Laura got a ranch job over in Parshall.”

  “And you’re up here,” Callie finished.

  “I can see why she’s having a hard time.” Barb’s voice was softened with sadness. “Do you need to go home to be with your mom? Callie and I can handle things around here if you do. We’ve done it before, and we can do it again. Right, Cal?” Barb looked over at Callie.

  Setting her cider mug on top of a cowboy coaster on the coffee table between her and Barb, Callie leaned toward him. “Mom’s right, Dusty. Uh, Dustin. Your mom shouldn’t be alone on Christmas. We can take care of things here for a couple of days until you get back.”

  “Thanks. But Mom and I already talked about it. I offered to stay at home, but she insisted I come up here. I’m thinking about talking to Calvin about buying my mom a ticket so she can at least join Calvin and the grandkids.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea.” Barb beamed. “After all, kids really make Christmas, Christmas.”

  “I think Jesus makes Christmas, Christmas,” Callie added softly.

  “You know what I mean, Cal,” Barb said with a hint of defensiveness to her voice. “I wasn’t taking away from Christ’s birth. I was only saying when it comes to decorating and baking and presents that kids make Christmas fun. I know the true meaning of Christmas isn’t about all of that. It’s about celebrating Christ’s birth. Even so, you have to admit, getting together with family and friends makes the holiday special.”

  “You’re right, Mom.” Callie laid her hand on her mother’s arm. “Sorry.”

  “No need to apologize.”

  “Hey, I just thought of something.”

  “Uh-oh,” Barb and Dustin both said at the same time.

  Callie grinned, her eyes sparkled. That usually meant it was something good. “Why not have your mother join us here on the ranch this year? Her and Mom can catch up on old times. What do you think?” She looked back and forth between Barb and Dustin, anticipation brightening her beautiful face.