Page 77 of A Rancher's Heart
Chapter Seventeen
“They’re finally asleep.” Tamara spoke softly as she slipped into the living room, pausing at Caleb’s expression. He was staring at the tree, a dozen decorations laid on the table beside him.
Sheer misery took Tamara’s heart out of her body, tied it in a knot then put it back in place far more worn. She backed up slowly and made extra noise as if she were just coming around the corner.
“I’m ready to be Santa’s elf,” she quipped cheerfully, giving him time to pull himself together.
It had been the strangest couple of weeks. Ever since Emma’s nightmare, it felt as if the house had been slowly filling with pressure. She’d shared with Caleb what Emma had told her, and he’d been suitably upset then achingly tender with his little girl.
Emma had bounced back far faster than the rest of them. Part of that had been the distractions of the season. With Christmas programs and holiday gift-making, there was always something going on that took her and the girls out of the house.
They hadn’t decorated, though, which was odd to Tamara. But the Stone tradition was for the tree to magically appear on Christmas morning, and while not having any decorations up was different, she understood where Caleb was coming from. Waiting until Christmas Eve to deal with the tree had meant there was a single deadline to meet. Some of those early years, it had probably come down to that final, last-minute rush.
The girls had been amazingly patient. More patient than Tamara as they eagerly worked on secret gifts for everyone in the family.
Now here they were, Christmas Eve, when the magic needed to happen.
Caleb met her eyes, and in that instant, instead of returning to being reserved and shut off, he allowed his sadness to show. Then he nodded briskly and dropped more decorations on the table. “If you want to put the kettle on, I’d love a drink.”
Gruff, gruff, stubborn man. Whatever had hurt him, he was going to move ahead as usual and ignore it.
Fine. She would do all she could to help. “Is that a Christmas tradition? Hot chocolate while you set up the tree?”
He paused before the smallest of smiles snuck out. “Truth be told, you’re the one who’s got me drinking hot things in the evening. I’d have been more likely to grab a beer.”
“Well then, I guess this is us putting some new traditions in your life.” She moved towards the kitchen to put on the kettle as requested. “That hot drink is going to have a kick,” she warned.
She glanced at him and was rewarded as, for a split second, a full-out grin broke over his face. Tamara treasured it as if she’d been given an enormous bouquet of flowers.
She liked making him smile—
A wave of clarity hit, and she nearly fell back against the counter, awareness digging in deep. She didn’t just want this man. Although she did—utterly and completely.
Shelikedhim. She thought his sacrificial ass needed a firm talking to most of the time, and yet she couldn’t fault him for the things that he cared about and put his energy toward.
Selfless, caring,stubbornman.
She fussed as she went to make the drinks to cover up the emotions bubbling inside her, bringing everything to the coffee table as he finished wrapping the final strand of lights around the enormous tree.
Tamara nodded in approval. “Isthe tree from your property?”
“Josiah’s spread. He’s building a trail through a batch of royal spruce, but he’s in no rush. Every year we take down a couple of trees to make it a little longer.In the meantime,we get to enjoy the benefits.”
She eyed the pile of decorations. More thanhalf of them were handmade. “I see the girls have been busy.”
“Don’t try to pretend you haven’t been encouraging them. Dare and Ginny used to spend most of December making ornaments with them as well.” Caleb gave her a dry grin. “And my girls aren’t so good at secret keeping as all that.”
“You’re right. There’ll be new ones under the tree in the morning. Any particular order these are supposed to go?” She gestured towards the collection.
He shook his head. “Anywhere is fine.”
Things were going well until she picked up a matching set of small silver ovals. In them a young woman held a newborn baby in her arms. The woman wasn’t exactly smiling, although she was very pretty, and it was clear that in one ornament the baby was Emma and the other, Sasha.
Tamara held them, staring at what was the first picture she’d seen of Wendy. Blonde curly hair, cupid’s-bow mouth. Her first thought had beenbeautiful, but there was something in the woman’s eyes that didn’t look remotely like what Tamara would’ve expected in a new mom.
Wendy looked…lost, as if she were pretending.
Tamara slipped back in time to when she’d seen that expression on a woman’s face before. She opened her mouth to ask if Wendy had suffered from postpartum depression, but decided it was far too personal to blurt out, even for her.
