Christmas Kisses (Romance on the Ranch Series #5) (11 page)

The kid, who was about eight or nine, said,
"Oh man, I'm never gonna forget this."

Toby ruffled the boy's hair. "That's the
idea, Pete."

From the corner of his eye, Sean saw the front
door open and turned to see who'd arrived. Mr. Branigan, holding his baby,
entered with his wife and Tessa. Toby saw them, too. He said, "Hey,
there's Tessa. Let's go say hi."

Sean liked that idea.

Toby said, "Pete, catch you later."

Sean said, "Bye, Pete."

Pete's interest was absorbed by the train and he
absentmindedly said, "Bye, guys."

Before they reached Tessa who was now beside the
Christmas tree, Preston walked over and grinned at her. Toby elbowed Sean.
"My brother likes Tessa a lot. He got in a fight with Jared once for being
mean to her. Beat the crap out of him."

"I'd do the same," Sean replied, and
then hastily added, "I can't stand bullies."

The party turned out to be a lot more fun than
Sean had anticipated. All-in-all he figured there were about fifty kids and
half that many adults. Since he wasn't a local, he didn't know how many kids
were homegrown and how many were disadvantaged youth. It was probably a lot
though, considering how big the dorm was. The kids ranged in age from babies to
high-schoolers, and the Tanners had something for everyone. Adults corralled
the children into age groups and played games appropriate to each.

After a round of games there was the sound of
sleigh bells and the front door burst open. "Ho! Ho! Ho!" Sean
laughed at how big the eyes of the little kids got and also at Mr. Tanner
dressed as Santa. Mrs. Tanner, dressed as Mrs. Claus, and with the assistance
of Cecelia and Tooty, and other helpers, quickly lined the children up in front
of Santa.

Sean got called into action and helped in
keeping the little ones entertained until it was their turn to sit on Santa's
lap. It was fun, and when a tiny girl of about four squealed when she reached
the front of the line, he couldn't help but laugh. She was so excited she
started to topple when her leg braces got tangled. Just in time, he saved her
from landing on her face. That didn't stop her excitement. She said in a
munchkin voice, "Oh, thank you. I fall down all the time."

Sean got a lump in his throat.

She clapped her little hands. "I can't wait
to tell Santa what I want."

Sean sat her carefully on Santa's lap and she placed
her hands on his rosy cheeks, making sure the jolly man was looking directly at
her. "Santa, last year I told you what I wanted, and you said sometimes it
takes time to get a mommy and daddy, but I sure wish you could hurry things
up."

The lump in Sean's throat got bigger and from
the look in Santa's eyes, he had one too. Cecelia was standing nearby handing
out stockings to the children after they had their turn, and Sean watched her quickly
swipe her eyes.

Santa smoothed a hand down the child's hair that
was the color of her name. "Goldie, I'm working really hard on that
request. But other than that, what would you like for Christmas?"

Goldie grinned, "That's all I want, but if
you have an extra Barbie doll, I'd take real good care of her."

Sean heard a little sob escape from Cecelia and
he wanted to cry along with her. She quickly covered her emotions and said
happily when Santa lifted the little girl to the floor, "Sweetheart, look
at this beautiful stocking filled with goodies just for you."

The child walked toward Cecelia with her unusual
gait and Sean had to keep himself from hovering over her. Goldie clutched the
stocking. "Thank you! Thank you!" Another worker was waiting to
escort her away.

After speaking with all the children, Santa made
his grand exit and called, "It's only two days until Christmas so I best
hurry back to the North Pole to prepare!" Again the sound of sleigh bells
tinkled over the speakers and Santa waved goodbye as he disappeared out the
door.

Tooty spoke over the microphone. "Hey,
ya'll! It's time to eat!" There was a happy shout from everyone and she
continued with instructions. "Can I get all the workers to line their
groups up, starting with the youngest?"

"You got it!" Preston called with his
group of boys around the ages of seven and eight.

Mrs. Martinez, one of the coffee shop regulars
married to a local rancher, Jackson Martinez, herded her group to the front of the
line. Goldie was in her group.

It took some time, but finally all the children
sat at large round tables covered with either green or red plastic table cloths
and decorated with miniature trees with lights that blinked. Sean figured they
were solar powered because there were no cords.

After lifting a small boy onto his chair, Sean
finally went to the end of the line behind the other workers and dished his own
plate. Toby called, "Sean, over here. I saved you a place."

Sean gladly sat next to Toby and ate with his
group of boys that included the one in the wheelchair. Everyone laughed and
joked and ate a feast of turkey and ham with all the trimmings. Earlier, Sean
had seen a guy in a chef's hat and garb, but wearing cowboy boots. He'd laughed
and Toby had followed the direction of his gaze. Toby had chuckled,
"That's Curley and he's been the cook here for years. He loves listening
to Hank Williams, Sr., but when he sings along…" Toby rolled his eyes.

Sean said, "Who's Hank Williams?"

Toby craned his neck toward Sean. "You're
kidding, right?"

Sean shook his head and Toby dived into a
history lesson about the great Hank Williams, Sr., which turned into another
lesson about Hank Williams, Jr. Sean made a mental note to never again ask
questions about country western singers.

The squeal of the microphone got everyone's
attention. "Listen up, ya'll," said Mr. Tanner.

The room quieted.

"Before we open gifts…" he paused
while the children made happy remarks and squirmed in their seats, "…I'd
like to thank everyone who has made this Christmas celebration so awesome! And
to show our appreciation, we have gifts for our workers—gift certificates to
our favorite coffee shop, Dixie's Cuppa Joe." He held up several
envelopes. "So, I'm going to give these envelopes to my son Preston to
pass out." He motioned toward Preston at a nearby table and his son rushed
forward to grab the envelopes. Mr. Tanner kept thanking people while Preston passed
out the gifts. When he reached Sean's table, he paused, locked eyes with him,
and handed him an envelope without smiling. Sean wanted to refuse the darn
thing, but figured that would make everyone aware of the tension between them
and mess up the happy feelings of the kids. It took all of his will power to
politely say, "Thank you." He glanced at Toby to see him frowning.

Mr. Tanner asked for everyone's attention again.
He held a book in his hand that Sean recognized as the Bible. He said, "In
a few minutes we'll open presents, but now I'd like to read the story of the
first Christmas and the greatest gift ever given."

The room became silent except for the occasional
scraping of a chair as Mr. Tanner read in a clear and deep voice.

And
it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar
Augustus that all the world should be taxed…

Everyone listened enraptured to Mr. Tanner's deep
voice. Too soon, he read the last words.

For mine eyes have seen
thy salvation,
which thou hast prepared before the face of all
people.

Sean saw several adults and older children wiping
their eyes.

Mr. Tanner closed the Bible. "There are no
words to express the magnitude of the gift given from the heavens to all of us.
So, rather than me saying a prayer, let's just bow our heads and all say a
simple, thank you."

The lump that had been in Sean's throat returned
as he followed Mr. Tanner's instruction.

The opening of gifts became a time of laughter,
surprise, and much joy. Sean was sorry when the party began to wind down. Soon
workers were escorting children to their dorm rooms while parents who had not
attended the festivity picked up their children.

Finally, only a handful of people remained in
the great room. Sean watched Mr. and Mrs. Tanner, with their arms around each
other's waists, chatting happily with Mr. and Mrs. Brightman and Mr. and Mrs.
Martinez. He missed his own parents and had a sudden appreciation for all they
had done for him.

At the entrance to the kitchen, Harris called,
"Hey, Sean, come over here!"

Happy for the distraction, he glanced toward
Harris and saw Tessa with him. He hurried over.

Harris had a funny expression on his face.

"What's up?" asked Sean.

Harris only looked upward. Sean followed his
gaze and it took a minute for him to understand. Tessa was standing beneath
mistletoe that had been tacked on the door lintel. She looked up and her eyes
got huge. She started to step away and Harris placed a hand on her arm.
"Oh, no you don't. You're under the mistletoe so you have to be
kissed." He bent and quickly kissed her cheek. Glancing at Sean, he said,
"Your turn."

Tessa said, "Oh, he doesn't have to–"

Sean leaned toward Tessa's cheek, but at the
last second moved his mouth to gently kiss her lips. Tessa's shocked expression
made him grin. Then she did something he would forever remember; her face
dimpled into a smile and she quickly kissed his cheek."

Politely, he said, "Goodnight, Tessa."

"Night, Sean."

When he turned and started across the room, he
saw Preston watching him.
Good. I hope he saw our Christmas kisses.
With
a cocky grin, he lifted his hand in a salute toward Preston.

Even with all her charity work, Cecelia couldn't
remember a more rewarding night than this one. During the drive home, she and
Sean rehashed the evening. From the way he talked, it appeared he had been profoundly
touched. She'd suspected the boy was sensitive, but now it was confirmed.

By the time they arrived home it was after
eleven. When they entered the house, Mac was waiting in his recliner. He smiled
and asked, "Did you have fun?"

Cecelia replied, "It was wonderful. I can't
even express how happy Sage and Sarah made those children."

Mac glanced at Sean and the boy said with no
animosity toward his father. "It was great."

Cecelia was so happy about the way Mac and Sean
were getting along that she chanced a question. "I know it's late, but how
about we take a ride around town and look at the lights." She said
pointedly at Mac, "No one is out this time of night and the city is so
beautiful. You could see how my coffee shop is decorated." She held her
breath.

For a second, Mac looked away and her heart
sank, but when he returned his gaze to hers and said, "Why not?" she couldn't
stop grinning.

Sean said, "You two go ahead. I'm kinda
tired."

Cecelia figured the boy was giving her time
alone with Mac. He really was sensitive.

*

Sean couldn't believe his luck. While Cecelia
and Mac were out of the house he intended to see if he could pick the lock to
get into the only room in the house he hadn't seen. When he started to feel
guilty, he pushed the feeling aside. He had a right to know everything about
the man who had brought him into this world and the mother he would never meet.

As soon as Cecelia and Mac backed out of the
driveway, he got a tiny screwdriver from the junk drawer in the kitchen and set
to work. The lock was surprisingly easy to pick—a couple of pokes and he heard
the button pop on the other side.

His heart beat rapidly as he turned the knob and
pushed the door open. The room was dark and he fumbled for the light switch. It
illuminated and he glanced at folded easels leaning against a wall, shelves of
paint supplies and brushes, a table with books piled high, an easy chair in one
corner, and a painting covered with a drape near a bank of windows with the curtains
drawn.

Sean knew his dad was a little strange, but
locking an art room was really odd. Maybe the stuff didn't even belong to his
dad. He was about to close the door when he had a sudden thought,
But maybe
it does; maybe Mac paints weird shit.
He decided to check out the covered
painting.

The drape was lightweight and easily lifted.
Wow.
This is really good!
Sean studied the outdoor scene that was mystical, yet
painted to appear like real life. He searched for a signature—Conner MacKenzie.
Is my dad's name Conner?
Sean had assumed his name was Mac MacKenzie because
his correspondence to Sean's adopted parents had always been signed Mac. He'd
only learned his father's last name after arriving in Paxtonville because his
parents wouldn't tell him anything. He studied the picture. It looked to be
finished. He was about to turn away when he glimpsed what appeared to be a man
and woman holding hands. They were amongst the trees with their backs to the
observer.

Something niggled at the back of Sean's mind. He'd
heard about a painter who always hid figures in his paintings. He left the room
and ran upstairs to his bedroom. Opening his laptop, he signed on to the
internet and did a search on the name Conner MacKenzie.

The first listing to pop up was the official
website for Connor MacKenzie. Instead of clicking on that, however, he read the
listing below that one.

The renowned artist,
Connor MacKenzie, has been in seclusion for years; however, he continues to
paint and amaze critics with his technique that can only be described as
genius. He…

Surely they weren't talking about his dad.
Holding his breath, he clicked on the official website. The first thing he saw
was a banner that faded from one painting to another. He read the introduction below
the banner and then scanned the site for a picture. There was none. He went
back to the search engine and inquired about photographs of Connor MacKenzie. A
handful populated the screen and Sean jumped backward, almost toppling his
chair. He was staring at younger versions of his father.
What the f…?

More inquires brought up pages and pages with
his father's name. Surfing from site to site confirmed what he already knew. Connor
MacKenzie was famous. Hell, he'd seen posters and prints of his father's work
many times over the years. He'd even been amazed at the beautiful, yet sad
renderings.

He heard a car door close. Cecelia and Mac were
home.

Closing his laptop, Sean squeezed his eyes tight
and tried to calm the anger rising in his chest like a volcano. Why hadn't he
been told who his father was?

The volcano erupted.

Rushing downstairs, he heard the front door open
and Mac laughing with Cecelia. "You have outdone yourself, honey, and I
think you should look upwards."

There was a pause and then Cecelia laughed. Sean
entered the room to see Mac dangling mistletoe above Cecelia's head and leaning
down to kiss her lips. After a lingering kiss, he said, "Hello, Sean. I now
understand why you like working at the coffee shop so much. I…" his voice
trailed. "What's wrong?"

Cecelia frowned.

Sean almost shouted, "Why didn't you tell
me?"

"Tell you what?" Mac said calmly.

"You know what! That you're the famous
artist Conner MacKenzie. Didn't you think I had a right to know?"

Still speaking calmly, Mac replied,
"No."

Hurt stabbed Sean and he slammed his palm
against the wall.

Mac continued, "Let me rephrase that. I
didn't think you had a right to know until recently. I was going to tell you
after Christmas. Believe it or not, the reason I never told you was to protect
you."

"Protect me! Protect me from what?" Before
Mac could answer, Sean shouted, "The only one you want to protect is yourself
for some stupid reason I can't fathom."

Cecelia interrupted, "No, Sean. You're
wrong. Your father has good reason. He–"

Mac broke in, "Cecelia. I can handle
this."

"But he needs to know–"

"He's my son and I'll deal with the
situation. Please don't say anything."

Sean had moved his gaze to Cecelia when she
spoke and the hurt on her face almost made him feel sorry for her. He said,
"No, let her speak."

Mac replied, "She has no part in this. It's
between you and me."

A pitiful sound erupted from Cecelia and she
placed the back of her hand over her mouth. Gulping, she glanced from Mac to
Sean. "You're both so blinded by your own selfishness you can't see what's
been dropped into your laps." Her voice rose in volume. "Mac, you
have your son back and you treat him like a stranger." She stared at Sean.
"And Sean, you have a chance to get to know your father. He's a good man
who's suffered much, but you can't see beyond your own tunnel vision." She
sobbed, "You're father and son. You have each other. You're family."
She sobbed louder, "I have no children. I have no family of my own. What I
wouldn't give to have what the two of you so carelessly throw away." Her
lips trembled and she whispered, "I don't want to be around either of you
anymore. I'm leaving."

Sean watched her run down the hallway.

His father called, "Cecelia. I'm
sorry."

Her door slammed shut.

Sean saw Mac close his eyes for a second and
then, leaning heavily on his cane, walk to the couch and sit down. He laid his
cane on the floor and rubbed the crease above the bridge of his nose.

Sean's anger mellowed and he didn't know what to
say. He felt so bad he had an urge to throw up. Turning swiftly, he rushed back
upstairs and sat on the side of his bed. After a few minutes he heard Mac's
muffled voice and then the front door open and close. He jumped from the bed to
look out the window. Cecelia was tossing a suitcase in the backseat of her car.
Before climbing into the driver's seat, she turned and glanced back at the
house lifting her gaze to Sean watching from his dormer window. She stared at
him for a long moment before entering her car.

The engine revved and she backed slowly out of
the driveway.