Page 36 of Merry Christmas, Cowboy

“Uncle Garrett got us a new oven and we made you cookies. To make up for the ones Uncle Garrett bumped out of your hands.” Cody handed her the dish.

“Oh, he didn’t… it was an accident.”

“That’s what I keep telling him,” Garrett said, his lips twitching. Was there a hint of a smile in there?

“Wanna see them?” Cody asked.

“Of course.” She walked the plate over to the kitchen table and lifted the aluminum foil. “Oh, my.” The lopsided, overgrown and over-decorated, icing-layered attempt at cookies tore at her heart. She took a swallow as tears welled in her eyes. The gesture was so sweet, so endearing, she had trouble conjuring the right words. “T-these are about the m-most perfect cookies I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” Delight filled Cody’s voice. “Uncle Garrett thought you’d like them too.”

“He did?” She looked over at him and he smiled. A real smile, one he rarely shared with her. It cut through any and all awkwardness between them, and suddenly, all was right again. “Well, he was right, Cody. I like them.”

“We gave you the best ones.”

“I can see that. These look very delicious. Have you had your dinner yet Cody?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Well, uh, Uncle Garrett? How about we break with tradition and have dessert before dinner? Just this once.”

“Can we, Uncle Garrett? Can we?”

“That’s only if we’re not interrupting Miss Russell from something.” Garrett gave her an inquisitive look. There was no way she wouldn’t eat cookies with them.

“Cookies come first,” she said. “With milk, and coffee.”

“Yay! I made you a very special one, Miss Russell.” Cody lifted up a snowman, covered in white icing, wearing a black licorice hat and buttons down his middle. An orange candy nose substituted for a carrot. It was a valiant effort on his part.

“You know what, Cody? I think it’s almost too beautiful to eat.” Nicole got out her cell phone and snapped a picture. “There, now I’ll always have a memory of it. How about you sit down and we’ll have a little treat break.”

“Are you sure?” Garrett said. “We only came to drop them off.”

“I’m sure. Cookies are meant to be eaten together. They taste better that way.”

“They do?” Cody looked puzzled. She never tired of seeing the sheer innocence on children’s faces.

“Sure they do,” she said. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Cody made himself comfortable on a kitchen chair while she went to the refrigerator. “I’ll get the milk,” Garrett said, walking over, “while you make the coffee.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said, handing him the carton of milk. And after they were all seated, with drinks in front of them, they indulged on the Christmas cookies making yummy sounds with each sugary bite.

“It’s my very first time baking cookies,” Cody said. There was pride in his voice.

“That’s very special. You and your uncle, making Christmas cookies together.”

Garrett met her eyes. It was hard not to get warm and gushy inside, having Garrett’s melt-your-heart blue gaze on her. Imagining the two of them, uncle and nephew, muddling through baking and decorating cast him in a different light. She didn’t see him as the rough around the edges, rarely to smile, aloof man with a broken heart anymore. He was settling into his role as parent, trying his best to make a difference in Cody’s life. The cookies were proof of that.

“Um, Garrett, I was going to call you tomorrow. I’ve got a crew ready to come out to fix up the wagon. It needed more work than I originally thought. Is that okay?”

“No. Not okay.”

“No? I’m sorry, are you working in the barn tomorrow?”

“No. There’s no need.”

“Of course, there’s a need.” She struggled to keep from showing her annoyance.

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