A Bramble House Christmas (Carrigans of the Circle C Book 6) (5 page)

BOOK: A Bramble House Christmas (Carrigans of the Circle C Book 6)
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“Did you ask him why?” Finn managed to ask, leaning intently over the table for the answer.

“I did ask but his answer wasn’t satisfactory. He said he didn’t want to be a burden. That the divorce had already caused the family enough grief.”

Finn stared into his mug, infinitely saddened and disappointed with the answer. He had so many more questions to ask, but Willa had turned to her son who was clearly bored of the conversation.

Chapter Four

I
t had been a long time since a man her age had paid much attention to Willa, so she wasn’t sure if she was reading the signals she was getting from Finn Knightly correctly. There were times when she was certain he was attracted to her.

He didn’t go so far as to flirt—but maybe that was because Scout was with her.

And yet, other times she felt him studying her with what felt like complete detachment, perhaps even a bit of animosity.

But that didn’t make sense.

She was just so out of practice when it came to men that she was hopeless.

So when they were finished with their cocoas and Finn said he was going off on his own to take some more photos, she was actually relieved.

But only for a moment. And then she was disappointed. Because she’d enjoyed having him around and she had so much she still wanted to ask him. They’d spent hours together and she didn’t even know where he’d gone to school, if he’d grown up in Colorado...or if he was currently in a relationship.

And yes, that last question was the one she was most curious about.

So, she watched him head off to the historic Graff Hotel with some regret, then shook it off and gave in to Scout’s desire to go back to the toy store. They lingered for almost an hour, Willa vastly relieved when Scout was most fascinated by the two toys and the book she’d already purchased for him and hidden in her luggage.

After that, they wandered through a few more stores. She found a couple sweaters she liked and managed to buy them in a two-for-one deal. She also bought a scarf for herself and a fleece sweatshirt for Scout.

They stopped for sandwiches at the Java Café, and as they were leaving, someone called out, “Willa! Scout!”

It was Sage from the chocolate shop, only now she was wearing a wool coat and an ivory-colored toque and had a baby boy bundled in her arms. Beside her was an attractive man in a cowboy hat and sheepskin jacket, holding the hand of a girl who was about four inches taller than Scout.

Before Willa knew it, the family was in front of them and Sage was starting introductions.

“Nice to see you again, Willa and Scout. This is my husband, Dawson O’Dell, and these are our children.”

“Nice to meet you.” Dawson had the sort of smile that made most women go weak in the knees.

Yet Willa felt immune. There weren’t many men who could stir a reaction in her since her son had become ill.

“Hi,” Savannah said, next. She had green eyes, just like her father’s, and trained them straight at Scout. “I’m Savannah and I’m in second grade. I can ride horses and make really good sandwiches.”

“I’m in first grade,” Scout admitted, sounding chagrined. He thought a moment then added, “I’m going to be a hockey star when I grow up.”

Savannah considered that, then nodded. “Okay. Want to go to the petting zoo?”

Willa glanced at Sage, who gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s back by the courthouse. We were just on our way. It would be fun if you and Scout came along.”

“All right.” Willa couldn’t help feeling a little anxious as the kids took off at a run ahead of them. In a crowd like this it would be so easy for them to get lost.

Dawson seemed to be reading her mind. “Don’t worry. Savannah knows not to get too far ahead of us. And I’ve got my eyes on them.”

“My husband’s a deputy,” Sage told her. “It’s always safety first with him.”

“Ever since I quit riding bucking broncs for a living,” he agreed.

“I’ve never met a cowboy before.” Willa was intrigued.

“We’re a dime a dozen in this town. Just look around.”

There were a lot of men—and women—in cowboy hats. Willa had assumed they were just for show. But upon closer examination she started to pick out gold rodeo buckles on some of the men—and a couple women, too.

“Marietta started as a mining town,” Sage said. “But our economy revolves around ranching and tourism now. Our fall rodeo draws cowboys and tourists from Texas to Alberta and everywhere in between.”

The petting zoo had been set up with square straw bales delineating the pens. It was like a giant maze, and again Willa had to quell a panicked fear that she would lose sight of Scout. He and Savannah were dashing from one animal to the next so quickly, she couldn’t keep up with them.

Finally she gave up and went to stand with Savannah and Dawson by the miniature goats.

Sage had her arms around her baby, who was too young to take much interest in the animals.

“She’s a great mom,” Dawson said proudly. “And so are you, I can tell. But honestly, you shouldn’t worry about your son. Marietta’s a safe place. It’s one of the reasons I moved here with my daughter.”

Willa took a deep breath. He was right. She had to learn to let go a little where Scout was concerned. “Was there anything else that drew you to Marietta?”

Dawson put an arm around his wife. “Hell, yeah. I was following her. The hard part was convincing her to marry me.”

Sage rolled her eyes, but Willa could tell this couple was tight.

An aching loss rose up in her, something she hadn’t let herself feel since months after her husband, Scout’s father, had left them. It had been just a few months after Scout’s diagnosis. Jeff hadn’t been able “to deal” as he put it.

“It’s almost time for the lighting procession,” Dawson said, noting the time on the town clock.

“I have to take Braden home for his feeding. You and Savannah should stay, though,” Sage told her husband.

Willa was sorry to see her leave. “I hope I’ll see you again while we’re in town.”

“You’re staying at Bramble House for Christmas?”

When Willa nodded yes, Sage smiled and patted her arm. “Don’t worry. You’ll see me again. Not least when my youngest sister Callan and I make our annual pilgrimage for Christmas tea with Aunt Mable.”

“Callan runs the Carrigan family ranch with her husband Court,” Dawson explained. “She’s a real pistol. You have to meet her.”

“I have two other sisters, but they live far away and won’t be home until just a few days before Christmas.”

Once Sage was gone, Willa took the opportunity to quiz Dawson about rodeo life, then, about fifteen minutes later, when Scout and Savannah rejoined them, she suggested to Scout that they go back to the B&B and rest up before the hayrides and the lighting procession.

Scout frowned. Then he sidled up to her and whispered. “I’m better now, Mom. I don’t need to rest.”

She wished she could trust him on that, but to her eyes he looked pale and tired. “Maybe you don’t, but I do.”

All was quiet when they arrived at the B&B. There was no sign of Marshall or Eliza...or Finn.

The resident dog, Ace, came to give them a sniff and accepted some pats and scratches, before returning to his post by the fire. The library was closed off to guests. Presumably Mable was having some alone time.

Willa could hear voices coming from the kitchen, but as they weren’t hungry and didn’t need anything, she just led Scout up the stairs to the Blue room. “Come sit up on the bed with me and I’ll put on a Spiderman DVD.”

That was enticement enough. The temptation to let Scout watch a lot of TV and movies while he was sick had been great, but she’d resisted, preferring to read books with her son, or play board games when he was feeling strong enough. For Scout, a movie or a TV show was still a big treat.

Willa stayed awake for the first scene. The next thing she knew, Scout was tugging her arm.

“Mom. It’s past four o’clock. We don’t want to miss the hayride and the Christmas lights and everything.”

Willa felt as if she’d been drugged and had to fight to keep her eyes open. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Nah. I told you I wasn’t tired.”

She sighed. She was constantly underestimating him. In the past two-and-half years she’d learned how to be a very good mother to a boy who was seriously ill. Now she had to learn to be an equally good mother to a boy who wanted to be active and have fun.

Ten minutes later they were out the door, this time wearing the warmer clothing she’d purchased earlier, plus proudly sporting their Marietta Christmas Stroll buttons.

It was still snowing, but gently, and the sparkling flakes made everything just a little bit prettier. They scrambled into a wagon for the hayride, and then watched the magical lighting ceremony. Everyone in the crowd went “Ah!” as the lights flashed on, first on the decorations strung along the Main Street lamp posts, then on each of the tall evergreens in front of the library and the courthouse.

Willa felt her heart lift at the beauty of it.

Three carolers started singing “O Christmas Tree,” and most of the people around them joined in.

The music, the lights, the softly falling snow. It was all so perfect.

Willa squeezed Scout’s hand. “What do you think, buddy?”

“I feel like we’re in a movie or something.”

“Me, too.” That was the problem. None of this felt real. “How about we go find Santa Claus?”

“Sure.”

She wished Scout sounded more enthusiastic. Last December he’d shared his hospital room with an older boy named William. She guessed William had teased Scout about still believing in Santa Claus, because right after that, Scout had announced he was old enough to know that Santa wasn’t real.

Her son’s illness had forced him to grow up too fast, in many ways, including facing his own mortality. Willa wished he could have at least been allowed to believe in Santa just a little bit longer.

When they arrived at the historic Graff Hotel, they had to get in line to visit Santa. Fortunately there were teenaged boys and girls dressed as elves to keep them entertained. One of the “elves” was making balloon animals for the waiting children. Another was trying to juggle Christmas ornaments—plastic not glass—with comic results.

Willa glanced around the crowded lobby, looking for Finn, but there was no sign of him.

Perhaps he’d already taken all the photographs he needed and gone back to the B&B.

Twenty minutes later it was Scout’s turn to sit on Santa’s lap. To please her he smiled when the photographer took their picture, but right after that, he slid to the floor. “Thank you,” he said politely, but before he could leave, Santa grasped his hand.

“You’re welcome young man. But aren’t you going to tell me your name and what you’d like for Christmas?”

He was a very realistic-looking Santa, with twinkly blue eyes and pudgy cheeks. Willa was positive the white beard and hair were real. The velvet of his suit was richly hued and plush, and his boots and belt appeared to be genuine leather.

“That’s okay. I gave my mom my list and she probably did her shopping in Phoenix before we left.”

Up went Santa’s white eyebrows. “So...you’re Scout Fairchild, then?”

Scout’s face registered shock. “How did you guess?”

“We’re staying at the same B&B. Did you like my cookies?”

Scout looked stunned. “I used three for my snowman this morning. I think the birds ate them.”

Santa laughed. “Well, I haven’t perfected my recipe yet, anyway. I’m going to make some adjustments to the spices next time.” He tilted his head to one side. “Are you sure you don’t want to ask me for something for Christmas?”

For a second Willa thought her son might do it. She held her breath and hoped. But then he shook his head.

“I already have a lot of toys and books. I only want skates and hockey pads and the next Everyday Sam book. I think my mom will get me those.”

“Hm. I bet you’re the kind of boy who likes adventures,” Santa said. “Am I right about that?”

Scout nodded vigorously. “But I’ve never had one.”

“I bet you also like to help other people. Not just worry about yourself all the time.”

Scout’s eyes widened, then he nodded again, this time more thoughtfully.

“Okay then, leave it to me Scout. I’ll make sure this is a Christmas you never forget.”

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