The Rancher's Christmas Bride Page 14

  For rescuing his daughter off the side of the road, he meant. Her mom looked uncomfortable, her attention focusing on the floor and not the people around her. She finally lifted her gaze to meet Alex’s.

  “We are glad to meet you.” She looked at her watch. “But we really should go now. Marissa, do you want to get your stuff?”

  Marissa should have expected that. Her parents had shown up with a purpose. To take her home. And they weren’t taking no for an answer. “Mom, I just told you. I’m not going. Not yet. I’ll be home in time for Christmas. And I plan on starting my job in January. But I need to stay here a little longer.”

  Her mom’s eyes widened and she looked past Marissa to Dan. And to Alex. “You’re staying here?”

  Mary Walker glanced around the tiny camper. Her gaze landed on Bub, the bloodhound. The dog picked that moment to stretch and yawn. Marissa chuckled at the dog, because he really didn’t care who had come to visit.

  “I see,” her mom finally said.

  “Stay and help us decorate the tree?” Marissa invited.

  Her mom looked from Bub to the tiny tree in front of the window. “No, we should go. It’s a long drive back. We have plans this evening. Will you walk us out?”

  “Of course.” Marissa glanced at her grandfather, coffee still in hand.

  “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” He said it with a casual tone, as if they were neighbors who had met up at the local café.

  Marissa watched her mother’s expression change, soften. She stepped forward to hug Dan. “Yes, we’ll be back.”

  Dan patted her on the back, awkwardly, with the cup of coffee. Alex stepped forward and took the cup from his hand.

  “Mary, you’ve done well. And this little girl is one to be proud of.” He leaned close. “Don’t live in the past. Time to live the life you’ve got.”

  Marissa’s mom brushed at tears and nodded. “Thank you, Dan. Dad.” She laughed a little. “Thank you.”

  She hurried out the door and Marissa followed. When they reached the car, Marissa’s mom stopped. She ran a shaking hand down her face, and, with tears still shimmering in her eyes, she hugged Marissa tight.

  “Don’t fall in love with a cowboy. Let your heart heal and come home to figure out what you’ll do next.”

  Marissa laughed at the advice. “I’m not going to fall in love with a cowboy and I will be home. I take that back. I have fallen in love with a cowboy. He’s my grandfather. He’s gruff and says what he thinks, but I do love him.”

  Mary nodded as she let go of Marissa’s hands and moved toward the car. “Yes, and he loves you, too.”

  “Daddy, goodbye.” She hurried to give her father a hug. “I’ll call and you’ll come get me?”

  “I’ll come get you no matter where you are.”

  She watched her parents drive back down the dusty dirt driveway. When she turned to go back inside, Alex was there. He waited for her at the porch, concern narrowing his eyes as he looked from her to the car in the distance.

  “You’re okay?” he asked.

  “I’m good. Really, probably better than I’ve been in years. And I just bought myself a little more time in Bluebonnet.”

  His smile faded. “I’m glad. Dan is less cantankerous with you here.”

  “I’m not sure about that,” she answered. “I know I’ll have to go back eventually. I have a job and responsibilities.”

  “Of course.”

  “We should decorate the tree and make those pies.” She looped her arm through his and together they walked back inside. “But I insist on knowing the recipe.”

  “I’m not about to tell you how I make my pies. What kind of woman are you, going after a man’s secrets?”

  She pulled him close. “I want all of your secrets.”

  “There are some things you just can’t have, Marissa Walker. And my secret pie recipe is one of them.”

  She could have corrected him. She wanted his secrets, not his pie recipe. She wanted more time with him, too.

  But she guessed he was right about this: there were some things she couldn’t have.

  * * *

  The camper smelled of apples and cinnamon. Alex opened the tub of ornaments while Marissa wrapped the little tree in lights. He guessed he shouldn’t poke fun at their tree. He’d bought one for his house that came already decorated.

  “That pie sure smells good,” Dan said from his chair.

  He’d watched as they made the pies. The process had taken longer than usual because Marissa hadn’t been much of a hand peeling and slicing apples. And she’d kept trying to watch as he measured out the ingredients to mix with the apples. He’d moved to block her view and she’d tried to put her hands on his shoulders and peek around him.

  “Do I get a piece of that pie tonight?” Dan asked as he got up to mess with his old portable record player he’d pulled out of the closet. Soon Bing Crosby was singing Christmas songs.

  “You stay out of the pie, Dan.” Alex picked a small box of ornaments. When he opened it, it was like opening a time vault.

  Marissa plugged in the lights and the tree lit up. He had to admit, lights made it better. He handed her the box of ornaments. She sifted through the homemade decorations, most of which had her mother’s name on them. Who would have guessed Dan to be sentimental? Not in all of the years Alex had known him had he thought Dan cared about anything other than this piece of land he had and the bloodhound that emitted more noxious odors than a defective septic tank.

  “Don’t start thinking I’m sappy or something,” Dan said as he hooked himself up to his oxygen. “I’m cheap. That’s all. When my wife left she took what mattered. She took Mary. She left the rest for me. The camper. The bills. The ornaments. A few pictures.”

  “Of course, and you kept them all.” Marissa pulled out a star made with yarn wrapped around sticks. And then a glitter-covered manger scene. She handed Alex back the box and she started to hang decorations. He didn’t say anything, just watched as she placed the decorations on branches that sagged a bit from the weight.

  After she’d finished with the homemade ornaments, she moved onto old bulbs that were brightly painted but chipped and faded in spots. She hung each and every one of those decorations. When she finished she stepped back and the tree had been transformed, thanks to glitter and twinkling lights. The red bulbs that had originally been hung twinkled amongst the older decorations.

  “Not bad,” Dan said. “That’s not bad at all. Now why don’t the two of you head to town for dinner? I’m going to take a nap but you can bring me back a cheeseburger.”

  Alex glanced at his watch. “I’d love to do that but I’ve got a meeting at the church.”

  “You aren’t becoming your dad, are you? That’s the last thing this town needs, another Palermo fleecing the flock.”

  Alex somehow managed a tight smile. “No, Dan, I’m not Jesse Palermo. And you know Pastor Matthews is nothing like my father.”

  “I know but I’m just making sure. I wouldn’t want you caught up in something you couldn’t get out of.”

  “I’m not. I’m going to the church to help Lucy with her self-defense class.”

  “What are you going to do at a self-defense class?” Curiosity gleamed in Dan’s eyes.

  “Oh, you’d be surprised,” Alex answered without really answering. He knew if he gave too many details, he’d never hear the end of it.

  “So you’re not going to tell me...” Dan paused and finally shrugged. “How’s those bucking bulls and the tractor repair?”

  “I guess I won’t starve,” Alex answered as he headed for the kitchen and the pies. He didn’t add that he had bigger concerns. But since Dan had seen the foreclosure notice in the paper, he guessed it wasn’t a secret.

  “Is Marcus not willing to help
you out?” Dan asked, his tone suggesting he was truly concerned.

  Alex shrugged. “I’m not sure he wants to keep the place. I’m going to get a loan or sell off cattle. It’ll work out.”

  “Cattle prices are down.” Dan cleared his throat. “Drought makes people nervous, even though we’ve been getting rain. But you’re right, it’ll work out. If they have something to eat at the church, would you bring me back some supper?”

  Marissa shot her grandfather a warning look. “I’m making pasta and salad.”

  “Green stuff.” Dan made a face and waved them away. “Go on, then. I guess we’ll see you at church tomorrow. Green food and Jesus. She’s taking over my life.”

  “I guess I could take her off your hands.” Alex winked at Marissa. “For the right price. I’ll even bring you back a few tacos from the dinner they’re serving at church.”

  “You take her off my hands and I’ll double your wages for helping out around here.” Dan cackled as he made the offer.

  “Dan, double of nothing is still nothing. And even if I take her, I bet she’ll still make you eat some vegetables with those tacos.”

  “For a few hours of peace and quiet, it’ll be worth it. Sometimes a man just wants to nap and watch a car race without a woman squawking that there’s a good movie she’s missing.”

  “She might not want to go.” Alex chanced a look at the woman in question. She was standing quietly, looking at the tree.

  “She might have an opinion of her own,” Marissa answered at long last.

  “Marissa, would you like to go to town with me?”

  Her hand dropped from the ornament she’d been touching. It was a horse made of baked dough and on the back her mother had written “I love you, Daddy.”

  He wondered about a family that had mementos that spoke of love, and yet they’d been split apart at the seams and never put back together.

  Dan noticed what had caught her attention. “She was horse-crazy, your mom was. She had this little spotted pony she’d ride around on. She said she was a rodeo queen.”

  “That must be why she always sent me to a summer camp with horses. Every summer.”

  “I’m glad she did that for you,” Dan said in a gruff tone that might have meant he didn’t care. Alex knew he cared a lot.

  “So am I.” Marissa grabbed her jacket off the hook by the door. “Are we going?”

  Alex glanced back at Dan. The older man was pretending he no longer cared. “Yes, we’re going.”

  “Okay, but this isn’t a date.”

  “Definitely not a date,” he assured her.

  Dan flipped on the TV. “Would the two of you just go? And don’t be a cheap date, Alex. You can’t keep a woman if you’re cheap. That’s why you’re twenty-seven and still single. You’re cheap.”

  “Dan, you’re knocking on the door of eighty and you’re single.”

  “And I was cheap,” he grumbled and turned up the volume on the TV. “Go on now. Have her home at a decent hour and don’t go down any back roads.”

  “Thanks, Granddad. I feel like I’m sixteen and going to the prom.”

  “Well, I missed out on a lot. I have to make up for all of those little moments.” He tapped his cheek but he didn’t smile. Marissa understood and hurried to his side to kiss his cheek.

  “You’re a mess.”

  “Yes, I am. Be careful. Don’t fall for a cowboy. All lines, but no follow-through.”

  Alex opened the front door for the woman who wasn’t his date, but he leaned back in to tell Dan goodbye. “And for your information, I don’t have lines. Or follow-through.”

  “You’re the worst kind,” Dan called out as the door closed.

  Alex led Marissa across the yard to his truck. He opened the door for her and helped her in. Was it just a few weeks ago that she’d appeared in his life? It seemed as if he’d known her forever.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Alex stood in front of Lucy in the church fellowship hall. The women from the shelter and a few ladies from the community usually attended the self-defense classes. Today Marissa stood amongst the women. He tried to avoid looking her way but that was easier said than done.

  Occasionally his gaze strayed, the same way his thoughts strayed. She wouldn’t be here much longer. He guessed that was probably for the best. Since she’d shown up, he’d been distracted. He’d managed to get his own work done but he’d also spent a lot more time at Dan’s than he normally would have.

  Vaguely he heard Lucy tell him to come at her from behind. She said something to the crowd of women that made them all giggle. He put his hands up and before he could prepare, Lucy had him by the arm and flying through the air. His back hit the floor.

  He groaned and tried to take a breath. Lucy looked down, grinning at him. “That’s what you get for being distracted. Ladies, being aware of your surroundings will help to keep you safe. As you can see from my brother’s position, flat on his back, being distracted is dangerous.”

  “Find yourself a new victim,” he groaned as he sat up.

  “Oh, but that’s where you’re mistaken. We are not victims. We are empowered because we know how to protect ourselves. And you are not the victim, you’re the attacker.”

  He sat for a minute with his arms resting across his bent knees. “Yeah, well, you seemed to have forgotten that I’m not really attacking you.”

  “When did you get so soft?” she asked.

  “I’m not soft.”

  She held a hand out and pulled him to his feet.

  “Let’s go over some basics. If you’re in a parking lot, walking down the street or even in your own home, do you know what to do? I want you to remember, it is always better to fight, to call attention to yourself and to run. If you go with an attacker, your odds of escape decrease.” Lucy positioned him in the center of the mat.

  Alex made his best scared face to get a giggle out of the women watching the demonstration. Many of them had escaped abusive relationships, and smiling was something they didn’t do a lot of. Not yet. The hope was that as time went on, they would smile more.

  No one understood that better than Alex and Lucy. Lucy had left home at eighteen, intent on escaping the abusive home they’d grown up in. Alex had done his best to stay on the edge of his father’s radar. He’d gained the most attention when he tried to protect his siblings, or distract their father.

  He hadn’t always been successful.

  Lucy snapped her fingers to get his attention. “Cowboy up and pay attention, Alex. What has you so distracted tonight?”

  Heat crawled up his neck. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

  “Come at me from the front.”

  He did his best, knowing he wouldn’t win. No one went up against Lucy and won. She was trained in hand-to-hand combat. She was a bodyguard and she’d been an MP in the army. She could outshoot, outrun and outfight him. He was okay with that. She would never again be anyone’s victim.

  Lucy explained that even if a woman had her hands blocked or the attacker held her, she still had a foot, a knee, a head. Alex raised his hands and backed away. Lucy grinned at his cowardice.

  “Come on, Alex, come at me.”

  “I think I’m done.”

  She motioned him on, so he moved to grab her. She showed the women a variety of techniques to block his attempts and also to bring him to his knees.

  “Lucy Palermo, that isn’t nice,” Bea said. He gave her a quick grin as Aunt Essie tried to quiet her. “I sure don’t think she should hit her brother that way.”

  “It’s okay, Bea, she won’t hurt me.” Alex stepped away from his sister. “She wants to show you how to defend yourself if anyone ever tries to hurt you.”

  Bea’s face took on a soft, kind of sad look. Alex didn’t know what to do
or say when she started to cry. He walked off the mat and gathered the older woman in a hug.

  “Bea, did someone hurt you?”

  She leaned against him, sobbing until she hiccupped. “Yes, and it wasn’t neighborly.”

  “No, Bea, it probably wasn’t. I’m sorry.” Alex gave his aunt an imploring look because tears were not part of his job description.

  Bea didn’t seem to care. “I had a baby, Alex. She was a pretty little girl and they took her away and said I wasn’t able to raise her. I heard the nurse say I wasn’t in my right mind. But I was.”

  “Honey, let’s go home now.” Essie took Bea by the hand. “We’ll work on self-defense another day.”

  “But I wanted to help decorate for the Christmas program.” Bea wiped away her tears.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw Marissa leave with a couple of the women from the shelter. He’d catch up with her later. At the moment, Essie more than likely needed his help with Bea.

  “Bea, would you like to help me put the finishing touches on the manger that we’ve set up on the stage. It needs some shingles on the roof. If you’re good with a hammer.”

  “I am good with a hammer.” Bea smiled brightly, stories of neighbors and babies forgotten. But he wouldn’t forget. Somewhere out there, Bea had a little girl.

  “Let’s go hammer then.” He led her through the church to the sanctuary.

  Pastor Matthews and a couple of men from the church were working on the stable that would be the center for any nativity dramas performed at the Christmas program. One of the men stood on a ladder attaching a star to the highest peak of the ceiling.

  Alex spotted Marissa sitting on the piano bench. Her hands began to move across the keys and he stopped to listen as she played “Silent Night.” The women she’d been talking to now sat on a nearby pew listening. She played the piano. He guessed he shouldn’t be surprised.

  She could ride a horse, drive Dan’s tractor and play the piano. If he had to guess, he thought she could probably do anything she set her mind to. He guessed she did whatever she thought would make her parents happy. With one exception.