Page 7 of Her Cowboy Santa
I did some quick research and may have freaked out about lap babies. It’s customary for parents to hold babies during flights, but well, every once in a while, that doesn’t end well. So, I purchased a third ticket and stopped at a department store for a child safety carrier rated specifically for airplanes. They slept through all of it.
“I don’t expect you to fly with us,” she murmurs quietly even though she definitely looks relieved at the thought of having someone with her. “You must have a wife and kids to get back to for the holidays.”
“Nope, this cowboy is solo. So, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” I give her a grin to soften the words. I could tell her that I don’t like the idea of a single mom and her baby flying alone on an airplane for the first time. But it’s more than that. I’m not ready to say goodbye to Callie. Not yet.
Chapter 4
Callie
Getting on the plane wasn’t nearly as stressful as I thought it would be. That’s because I had Nate with me, guiding me through every step. He knew exactly which gate to go to and how to handle airport security. He never got flustered or frustrated with me and Danny.
He got Rudy squared away in cargo, somehow producing all the documentation they would need. I never seen anyone as capable as Nate. He leads with quiet confidence that makes me feel safe.
I take the seat by the window with Danny in my arms, relieved that we fit. I’m proud of my curves, but I’d hate for the airline to ask me to buy an extra seat in front of Nate.
I tug his big, brown work coat tighter around my shoulders. When I woke up in the truck, he’d put it over me. I tried to give it back, but he insisted that he runs hot and can’t stand to wear it longer than five minutes. I think he’s lying, but I love the way it smells like him.
From the row across the aisle, I hear faint murmurs. I look up to see two elderly women with an older man. They’re all three glaring in the direction of Danny as if bringing a baby on an airplane is somehow a heinous crime.
Nate is oblivious. He’s focused on the carrier that he’s setting up. He quickly figures out the intricate buckle system then pats the seat.
I hesitate. It’s my first flight and even though I don’t think anything will go wrong, I still want to have him close.
He keeps his voice low so it doesn’t carry, “In the event of turbulence, the G-force will make it nearly impossible for you to hold onto him. Just because lap babies are allowed by airlines doesn’t mean it’s the safest option.”
I think about how I wouldn’t allow him to ride in Nate’s truck without a car seat, so it makes sense that I wouldn’t want to do the same thing on an airplane. I nod and place him in the new seat, being careful as I do. With his low muscle tone, Danny can be “floppy” and often needs extra support when I’m moving him.
“Thank you for the seat. I’ll pay you back for it and our tickets.” Even as I say the words, I have no idea how I’ll actually do that. Nothing prepared me for how expensive being a single mom is.
“It’s a Christmas gift,” he answers with a quick wink before he takes his seat, putting on his belt.
Danny starts crying as soon as takeoff begins. I pull out every toy I can to distract him, but he doesn’t stop. No matter how many funny faces I make or what I do. He goes on screaming for a solid twenty minutes.
“His ears must hurt,” I finally realize when nothing is working.
The elderly trio is still complaining about us, but I’m doing my best to ignore them. Surely, they were babies once. Hopefully, in a society that was kinder and more understanding than the one I’m raising my son in.
“Adults are supposed to chew gum. Maybe a bottle will help him?” Nate suggests. “Could work the same muscles.”
I try to offer Danny a bottle twice, but he won’t take it. He just keeps screaming. I even took him out of the carrier seat and inspected it for sharp pieces and any potential sensory issues. There’s nothing about the seat that should be bothering him.
“Maybe a lullaby will help,” Nate offers.
One of the elderly trio says something, but I can’t hear what it is over the sound of Danny’s wailing. Nate stiffens, his body tensing before he turns toward the other aisle.
In a loud voice, he says, “That’s my son. He’s little, and the world around him is big. He doesn’t know what’s happening or why his ears hurt. He’s not crying to annoy you. He’s crying because he’s scared and in pain, so you can fuck off.”
I reach across the seat to put my hand on his arm. No one has ever stood up for me or my son this way. I certainly didn’t expect to be defended by this handsome stranger.
He turns his attention to Danny who I’ve already buckled back into his seat. No matter what we do, he can’t seem to get comfortable.
“You cry as loud as you need to, little guy. I’m right here.”
A stewardess hurries up to our row, but whatever was said by the trio is not repeated. Probably because Nate glares at them, as if he’s daring them to speak up again.
Eventually, Danny quiets when Nate starts singing a soft lullaby. It’s some old song about a cowboy who loves his woman so much that he searches far and wide to bring her a bouquet of yellow Texas roses. Every time he stops singing, Danny breaks down in tears again, so he just keeps repeating the chorus again and again until his voice sounds raw.
After the three of us disembark, Nate rents a truck from the airport while we wait for Rudy. When the two of them reunite, Nate drops to his knees and smothers his big dog with affection and praise. It’s crazy that I’m standing in an airport, jealous of a dog who’s getting belly rubs from the big, burly cowboy.
