Page 5 of The Blessings of Christmas
Boots up on the desk, Ryder stretched back and grinned. “So how are you enjoying the apartment upstairs?”
“Suits me just fine.” Ryan took an empty chair and unbuttoned his jacket. This wasn’t the neatest office in the world but it served its purpose. Like a lot of the businesses along Red Arrow, the garage had been a fixture for years. The Bransons mostly worked on Harleys, which had been the main attraction of the job. “Thanks for renting it to me.”
“Glad someone can use it,” Ryder said. “Maybe the place will bring you good karma or whatever it is that Phoebe says.”
Stanley wore a big grin. “Got me my favorite daughter-in-law back. Ryder couldn’t wait to get out of here and back to his house in the woods.”
“It was the woman in the woods that counted, Dad, not the house.” Ryder and his wife Phoebe had been divorced for a year. During that time, Ryder had been one mean son of a gun, and his father hadn’t been much better. How Ryder won Phoebe back, Ryan would never know. But it had something to do with fixing up their old house.
While they were divorced, Ryder had lived in the apartment over Branson Motors. With a bedroom and a kitchen, that apartment served its purpose, but it was nothing Ryan would want on a full-time basis. The smell of oil and grease crept up through the walls. It was a place, not a home.
Now Ryder sniffed the air. “Man, you smell good.”
“Yeah, you’re making me hungry.” Stanley patted his stomach.
“It’s the bread.” Smiling, he slipped out of his heavy jacket.
“How's it going with the widow?” Ryder asked with an expectant grin.
“You make it sound like she’s eighty.” Before, she’d been his sister-in-law––the person who kept his brother happy with her sweet smile and soft curves. Now she talked to Ryan like a drill sergeant. So serious, her eyes dark with worry. He didn’t know how to take her. The chair creaked when he shifted.
“Sarah’s a pretty little thing and a good mother.” Then Ryder stopped.
“She’s had bad luck.” Stanley snapped up a toothpick. He always had one handy. “Your brother was a patriot. I served in Vietnam, and I can’t say enough good things about Jamie or Sarah. But it’s a darn shame.”
The mood had turned somber. Ryder nodded. “And that’s the truth. So are you handling the two jobs okay? Not making you crazy or anything?”
“It’s not a picnic chasing up and down Red Arrow in the snow,” Ryan admitted.
“How does your schedule go?” Kicking back in his chair, Stanley studied him, that toothpick between his teeth. “You start the day there, come back to the garage for a few hours and then it’s back to the bakery?”
“I’m burning a lot of gas, but I make sure I put in at least eight hours up here.” Working on a Harley was bittersweet for him. But he knew those machines like the back of his hand. “You know anything about making thimbles?”
The foreheads of both men creased. “You mean like in sewing, son?” Stanley said. “My wife used a thimble on her finger sometimes.”
“No. These are cookies.” He almost hated to say the word.
“Cookies?” A grin lifted the corner of Ryder’s mouth. “You’re baking cookies with Sarah? I thought you were handling the bread.”
Stanley put both hands on his stomach “Now you’re really making me hungry.”
Okay. This whole baking thing didn’t sound very manly. But he was helping out. Sarah and her mother Lila needed him. “Yes, her mother added the cookies,” he muttered. “I’m fine with it.”
That brought a howl from both of them. “The widow’s got you making dainty little Christmas cookies? With those ham-sized hands that have touched carburetors?” Stanley made some mincing movements with his fingers. Of course Ryder roared at his dad’s antics.
“Glad you two are enjoying yourselves.” Ryan’s face burned.
“Why don’t you bring back some samples?” Stanley ran one hand over his perpetual stubble. He only shaved every three days. “We can give your cookie skills a road test.”
“I haven’t made them yet.”
Ryder gave him a curious look. “Anything going on with you and Sarah?”
Reaching down, Ryan played with his boot. By the end of the day, his shorter leg ached. “Of course not.”
“Why not?” Ryder snorted. “She’s a sweet woman with two cute little boys who need a dad.”
“The emphasis is on sweet.” Ryan looked up and frowned. “Not exactly my type.”
