Her Cowboy Till Christmas. Jill Kemerer

want to make Brittany’s favorite for dinner...” She stared at the wall.

      “Is it still spaghetti?” He didn’t want to talk about Brittany, but he didn’t have it in him to hurt Nan’s feelings.

      “Yes.” She frowned. “I think so.”

      “I’ll pick up the ingredients. Don’t worry.”

      Her shoulders relaxed and she handed him the list.

      “We’ll be back in a few hours.”

      “Take Brittany with you. It’ll be like old times.”

      Old times were best left in the past. He didn’t say a word, just tipped his hat to her and walked out the back door. The faint sound of Noah’s squeals in the distance made his heart pump faster. Was he all right? But unmistakable laughter assured him his boy was fine. Why it irritated him that his son was enjoying Brittany’s company he didn’t have the energy to analyze.

      He strode through the snow to the barn. When he slid the door open, his gaze zoomed to Brittany’s blond hair rippling down her back. Her smile could have illuminated the entire town. She stood to the side of the old tire swing.

      He’d forgotten about the swing. Tired of its memories, he’d hauled it up to the hayloft years ago.

      Sensations crashed into him.

      It was their meeting place. The spot he’d rush to every day in the summer after his ranch chores were finished. The place he’d first kissed her. Even now, seeing her in front of it was doing something funny to his pulse.

       Enough of that.

      She must have gone up to the loft and let it drop down. Three sturdy ropes connected it to a beam above, and thick layers of straw cushioned the ground below it. The tire hovered horizontal to the ground so more than one person could ride on it at once.

      The bottom of Noah’s cowboy boots peeked through the tire, and his little arms grasped two of the ropes. As the swing went around, his shining, laughing face appeared. Mason couldn’t help but smile, too. His innocence was precious.

      “Can you believe the swing is still here?” Brittany’s voice was laced with cordial undertones. Apparently she’d decided they should be civil. “The ropes are as strong as ever.”

      They were among the few things strong enough to survive these parts. He’d lost so many of his loved ones. First Ma, then Pops, then Mia... The weariness he’d been carrying for three years weighed on him.

      “Noah, we’d better get moving.”

      She reached for the swing and stopped it. Then she helped Noah to his feet. He ran to Mason with his arms open. Mason caught him and hoisted him high in the air.

      “I can fly!” Noah held his arms out.

      Man, he loved this kid. He set Noah back down and turned to leave.

      “Mason?”

      He stopped, looking back.

      “Nan’s really going downhill, isn’t she?”

      Yeah, and if you cared, you’d be here more often. Brittany’s rigid posture and the fear in her eyes kept the thoughts in his head, though.

      “She’s eighty-six.” He wanted to say more but didn’t.

      “And you’ve been getting her groceries every week?”

      He nodded.

      “For how long?” She looked vulnerable standing there.

      “At least a year. Could be two, I guess. Why?” He cast a glance at Noah, who’d stopped in the corner to scoop kibble into the dishes. The barn cats were already stretching and heading over there.

      “I... I didn’t realize.”

      “Maybe if you visited more often, you would have known.” He winced at his gruff tone and the harsh words. The dig, while true, pricked him with shame. He’d been studying the Bible more, thanks to Gabby and Eden and their Tuesday meetings, and one of the concepts they were all working on was choosing not to be bitter.

      It was hard.

      “How bad is she?” Brittany stepped forward, seemingly unmoved by his rudeness.

      “Nothing I can’t handle. If you’ll excuse me.” He pivoted, called to Noah and petted one of the cats before picking the boy up and marching straight outside.

      He’d been taking care of Nan for a long time. Brittany didn’t need to worry about it. He’d take care of the elderly woman until the day she died. She was as close to family as he had. Without her, he and Noah would still have the Pages, but it wasn’t the same. Not for him, anyway.

      Lately he’d been feeling like it was him against the world.

      He thought of Ryder coming out this afternoon. For the first time since finding out he had a twin, Mason started to embrace the idea of having a brother.

      “Do you need any clothes?” An hour later, Brittany sat on the living room floor folding the worn pants and shirts she’d taken out of the dryer. From the looks of it, Nan hadn’t been clothes shopping in years. She pulled another sweatshirt out of the basket. In fact, a lot of things Brittany had assumed about Nan were questionable, like her ability to live independently out here on her own.

      Before arriving, she’d assumed her grandmother was fine, still able to drive and shop for herself, and she’d assumed incorrectly. Nan was not fine. And Mason could claim he’d handle it, but Nan was her responsibility. Not his.

      As for Mason’s parting shot at her...

      She sighed. He was right. She’d neglected Nan. Could her grandmother live by herself much longer?

      “Did you say something?” Nan looked up from where she sat in the recliner. A game show blared from the television.

      “Why don’t I take you shopping? I’d like to get you a new outfit.” She pasted on her brightest smile and stacked another shirt on the pile.

      “I’ve got a closet full of clothes, honey.”

      A closet full of outdated clothes that were too big. Maybe she could persuade Nan to go into Rendezvous and do a little shopping during the week. But did the small town even have a clothing store? She could always order a few items online.

      After folding the final item, she rose and checked the time. It had been over an hour since Mason had left. Noah was the definition of adorable. He looked like his daddy. And that was a good thing.

      Mason had grown more handsome since she’d last seen him. Broad shoulders, slim hips, muscular arms—he was all cowboy. His dark blond hair and caramel-brown eyes had always made her look twice at him. And the way her skin prickled with awareness when he’d been in the room earlier proved she wasn’t immune to the man.

      But now he wore an air of resignation, and every word he said had a bite to it.

      He’d changed.

      Grown harder. Gruffer.

      Losing his wife must have been devastating.

      As Nan’s breathing settled to a soft snore, Brittany went to the kitchen to prep the fridge. It was stuffed with leftovers and rotting produce. Gross. She pulled out a trash bag and tossed the moldy and wilting food, then ran a soapy cloth over the fridge’s shelves. Much better. The two cupboards where Nan kept her dry goods were in decent order.

      The sound of a vehicle approaching alerted her Mason was back. She debated her next move. Hide in her bedroom so he couldn’t hurt her with accusations she already felt bad about? Or stay here and take his barbs straight on?

      She deserved them. She’d failed Nan.

      All