A Rancher for Christmas. Brenda Minton
they were fed. He’d been the one to hire Marty years ago when his dad was sick and not really paying attention. He’d made sure the ranch kept making a profit.
Now he’d make sure Rosie and Violet were loved and protected.
Marty handed him a cup of coffee and then patted his arm the way she’d been doing for a long time, since she and her husband first came to town. Long before she was the cook and housekeeper, she’d figured out what life was like at the Circle M for a bunch of ragtag kids trying to make do with a mom that had left and a dad who had checked out.
“Brody called,” she said as she moved back to the counter and a bag of carrots that suddenly held her interest.
“And?” His younger brother had a knack for finding trouble.
“He and Lincoln had a fight. He’s coming home.”
Brody and his roommate and traveling partner were always one argument away from killing each other so Jake wasn’t surprised. He shrugged and took a drink from his cup. Marty started peeling carrots again.
“Well, I guess he’ll figure it out. The bull-riding season is almost over. He’s probably tired of being on the road.”
“He does get homesick, even if he doesn’t admit it.”
He set the glass in the sink and leaned a hip against the edge of the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for Marty to tell him what he needed to do. She was good at giving him advice. And, even if he wouldn’t admit it, she was usually right.
“Don’t lecture him,” she finally said. “I heard something in his voice.”
“I’ll go easy on him. He’s a grown man. It’s time he made his own decisions, anyway.”
Marty put a hand on his arm. “Is it really possible for you to do that?”
He grinned at her fairly unsympathetic tone. “No, probably not. What’s for dinner?”
“I’m making beef stew.”
“Okay.” He waited, watching. He could see the furrow in her brow and knew she had more on her mind than the stew.
“It’s okay for you to let this young woman help. I know you have reservations...”
“Because we don’t know her at all,” he reminded.
Marty shot him a look that he couldn’t fail to understand. He was being too “Jake” for her liking. He did like to take control. He liked to know his family was taken care of and safe. Old habits were hard to let go of.
“You’ve raised your siblings. Now you’re looking at raising two little girls. And I’m sorry, but they need more than you, Jake. I think Lawton was right. These girls need Breezy. I might not know her well, but I think I’m a good judge of character and she seems like someone you can trust.”
“It’s possible she won’t stay.”
Marty stopped dicing up an onion. “Because of her childhood? All I see is a young woman that was a victim of her situation.”
He grinned and kissed the top of Marty’s head. “I love you, Marty.”
She sniffled and wiped at tears trickling down her cheeks. “Silly onions.”
“Onions never make you cry.”
“Oh, hush. Go to town.”
As Marty cried, he placed a hand on her shoulder. She covered that hand with her own.
“I’m okay.”
“Of course you are.”
She was always okay. He’d known Marty most of his life. She and her husband had moved to Martin’s Crossing to pastor the Community Church at the edge of town. That had been close to twenty-five years ago. After Earl passed away, Marty had stayed on. She’d been the cook and housekeeper for the Martins. Then she’d gone to work for Lawton and Elizabeth after the girls were born.
“I need potatoes,” Marty said on a sigh.
“I’ll get a bag in town.”
“I should have planned better.”
He shrugged it off. “I’m sure there are other things we need. I’ve got a calf to check on, then I’ll come back in for a list.”
As he reached for his hat, she stopped him. “Give her a chance. I don’t think she’s had a lot of them.”
“That’s the Marty I know and love. You always see the good in people.”
“This is the Marty who knows that God doesn’t need us to judge for Him. That doesn’t mean she gets a free pass. Our baby girls come first.”
He laughed at that. “And there’s the Marty who protects her little ones.”
Her smile returned, settling in her gray eyes. “You’d better believe it.”
Jake believed it.
And he’d do his best to give Breezy a chance. But flat-out trust? That was something he’d have to work on. He’d learned—in life and in business—to reserve the right to form opinions at a later date.
Time would tell, he told himself as he headed out to the barn. She’d stay or she’d go. While she was in Martin’s Crossing he’d do his best to treat her like family, because that’s what Lawton would have wanted.
Breezy was standing on the porch when Jake pulled up to Lawton’s house the next day. She could see two little girls in the backseat of the truck. Her heart thumped hard against her ribs. This was it. Her new life.
She’d spent the rest of yesterday and this morning wondering how she would do this. How would she stay in Martin’s Crossing? How would she know how to take care of two little girls? After cleaning a layer of dust off the furniture the previous evening, she’d sat down and tried to list the pros and cons of staying in Martin’s Crossing.
And she’d gotten stuck on Jake Martin, on the wariness in his eyes, on the way he’d questioned her, on the way his hand had touched her arm. Jake Martin had trust issues. Breezy had her own issues. She didn’t know how to settle, how to put down roots.
Sticking around now took on a lot of importance, for herself and for two little girls. She watched Jake unbuckle the girls from their car seats. Staying meant everything. She headed his way to help.
If he would let her.
It shouldn’t bother her. She’d grown up used to people giving her suspicious looks. She’d spent her life adjusting to new people, new situations. She knew how to reinvent herself. She could be the person two little girls needed her to be. Once she figured out who that person was.
She stepped close to the car, watching as he unbuckled one of the twins. Then he placed that little person in her arms. Dark hair straight, face thinner than the other little girl. “Hello, Violet.”
The little girl just stared, her eyes big and unsure. Yes, Breezy was getting used to that look. It mirrored the expression on Uncle Jake’s face. The man in question pushed the truck door closed. He held Rose in one arm against his side and the little girl patted his cheek with her tiny hand. Breezy watched the change that took place when he was in the presence of these little girls.
The twins made him human. They softened the distrust in his blue eyes.
“Are you ready for us?” he asked with a grin that surprised her.
Breezy nodded. “I’m ready.”
She walked in front of him, Violet in her arms. The little girl smelled like baby soap and fabric softener. Her arms had gone around Breezy’s neck. They reached the front door and Jake reached around her to push it open, a