Once Upon a Christmas

Cassidy didn’t know how true those words were. She also wasn’t willing to slow down to look at such grown-up temptations as jewelry and identification tags.

“How did you get away from Joel?” Maggie asked.

“We went around three times and then Joel said for Caleb’s big brother to bring me to you,” Cassidy explained. “There were lots of kids in line. We weren’t being fair.”

The sound of laughter and the smell of food wafting from the fellowship hall were a magnet. Cassidy pulled Maggie through the door and into the room crowded with people both eating and playing games.

Maggie wasn’t a bit hungry.

Neither apparently was Cassidy, except for wanting a bag of popcorn which she didn’t get.

In the back of the fellowship hall there was a coloring table, a face-painting table manned by Beth, and a fishing game. Cassidy looked, paused, and passed by saying, “Maybe I’ll get my face painted, later.”

Outside, the cold slapped at Maggie’s face. Cassidy zoomed to the maze and latched on to the McCreedy boys, to both Ryan and Caleb’s joy and Matt’s consternation. After one turn making their way through the labyrinth, Maggie knew why. Ryan was overjoyed because he surrendered Matt and Caleb into Maggie’s supervision. He disappeared with his friends toward an impromptu football game played with bigger boys and a few fathers.

Caleb was overjoyed because he just plain liked girls, Cassidy especially.

“Nothing makes Matt happy,” Cassidy confided after their third time going through the maze.

“I want to go help Beth,” Matt said.

Maggie looked in through one of the windows. Beth had a line ten kids deep. “Beth’s busy at the face-painting booth,” Maggie said. “We’ll see if the line dies down soon, and then you can go help her.”

An hour later, Cassidy and the boys were out of tickets and Maggie was guiding them back to the fellowship hall and the food line. Matt and Caleb ran ahead, Cassidy on their heels. Maggie wasn’t quite as fast. But, the closer she got, the slower her feet became.

Once again, Jared had a towel in his hand and was cleaning up a mess. Only this time it wasn’t pancake batter. It was ketchup.

She didn’t have time to look away before he glanced up and caught her staring.

She could only hope he realized that she was fixated on the ketchup spill and not him.

* * *

Too bad hot dogs were a staple at Solitaire Farm because after tonight, Jared wasn’t sure he could stomach the smell ever again. This wasn’t his first time helping with the church’s Christmas party, but it was his first time without Mandy. The last few Christmases had been hard.

Jared’s helpers were ambitious and laughed a lot, but they really weren’t much help. They got sidetracked on conversations, mostly football scores or whose house had been broken into recently—seemed there’d been quite a few thefts. They took too long taking orders, because every customer was a friend. They forgot where stuff was stored, even though most had attended the Main Street Church for decades and this wasn’t their first time in the kitchen. And, most of all, they were clumsy.

Even worse, when they spilled things, they were more likely than not to leave the spill where it was than to clean it up.

Jared had just sent home Sophia Totwell. She had claimed a hurt ankle; he figured she was as tired of the hot dog smell as he was. Plus, she’d seen her husband and two kids wandering around, looking lost.

“I wish you’d talk to him,” Sophie said to Jared as she untied her apron. “You’ve been farming a long time. Give him some advice on how to make money as well as spend it.”

Kyle Totwell didn’t want to hear what Jared had to say. He’d moved onto a broken-down farm, purchased way too many cows for his ability and finances, and was now suffering.

“Dad, can I have a hot dog?” Caleb skidded under the table, managing to rearrange the tablecloth and knock a handful of napkins to the ground. Matt picked them up and stayed on the correct side of the food counter.

“One hot dog, no bun, coming up,” Jared said. He nudged Caleb around the table to stand next to Matt. He just knew his voice dripped with patience. Surely Maggie would notice how in control he was. “You want one, too?” he asked Matt.

“Yes.”

“And you?” he asked Cassidy.

“I don’t like buns, either.”

Maggie came to the edge of the table, guiding Cassidy away from the tablecloth and smiling at Jared as if this morning hadn’t happened.

“Thanks for what you did earlier, and thanks for taking my boys around,” he said.

“They were no problem. We had fun.”

He’d noticed. Maybe that’s why he’d been so attuned to the ambitious, laughing lot in his food court. He’d been wishing he was with Maggie and the kids.

“I’m sorry I left the coffee shop so abruptly this morn—” he started.

“Nothing to apologize for,” she finished. “Some topics are harder than others.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Matt wanted to know.

“Grown-up talk.” Jared quickly made four plates, two with just hot dogs and two with buns, potato chips and a homemade chocolate chip cookie.

“I want a choc—” Cassidy and Caleb chimed in unison.

“Only after you eat the hot dog,” Maggie said. “And then only half.”

“Dad, you always give me a chocolate chip cookie,” Caleb complained.

“Now might be a good time to change.”

Little adult that he was, Matt had already made his way to a table and was eating his hot dog, sans ketchup—before touching anything on his plate. He did not look overjoyed when Cassidy and Caleb joined him. He did, however, astutely move his plate so his cookie was out of his little brother’s reach.

“How many times did they go through the maze?” Jared asked.

“I stopped counting at seven.”

Jared’s next words came out before he had time to think. “You have more patience than I do.” Immediately, he wanted them back. Her smile slipped a little, just enough so he knew she was thinking about this morning.

She, indeed, did have patience because instead of pointing out the obvious, she simply said, “I’d better go see what the kids are doing and make sure they eat.”

He watched her walk away, her hips sashaying in such a way that Jared wondered how such an old-fashioned red dress could look so appealing.

Maybe because it wasn’t the dress.

Chapter Five

It was nine and the game lines still boasted one or two kids. Cassidy leaned back in the chair, and let Beth Armstrong’s paintbrush create an image on her cheek that would soon become red cowboy boots.

Beth had more paint on her than most of the kids, and she looked ready to drop.

“I take it the Christmas party’s a success?” Maggie stood slightly to the side, gently swaying with Caleb on her hip, and watched as Beth created her masterpiece.

“It always is. This year seemed really good. I heard one of the women say we raised almost five hundred dollars. There was never a moment the face-painting booth didn’t have a kid.”

“Me, either,” Maggie agreed. “There was never a time I didn’t have a kid.” She switched Caleb from her left arm to her right. Good thing he was a small fellow or her arms would be more on fire than they already were.

“He’s sure taken to you,” Beth observed.

“This morning we had a whole conversation in the car about his dad not having a girl. Caleb seemed to think they needed one.”

Cassidy giggled.

“Now, you’re going to have one boot bigger than the other. Don’t move,” Beth scolded Cassidy before turning to Maggie. “I heard all about you taking a ride in Jared’s truck. Caleb is a natural reporter. You’d think the ride went on for days. Then, too, there was something about pancake batter.”

“Yes,” Maggie admitted, “this morning was not my finest hour by any means. A good-looking guy stops by my place and winds up doing kitchen duty because Cassidy spilled a bowl full of pancake batter.”

“On accident,” Cassidy asserted.

“Then, Jared takes me out for coffee, so we can talk, and I find out he doesn’t drink coffee—serious flaw, by the way—and then he gets the call about some hay emergency at church so he doesn’t even get to finish the coffee that he didn’t like.”

“I’m glad he took my advice. Jared really needed to talk to you. He probably figures suffering through a cup of coffee a small price to pay.”

“We didn’t really get to talk.”

“Well, you must have connected somehow. Everyone in town’s going to be talking about how you chauffeured Matt and Caleb around.”

“My having them is more Ryan’s doing.” Maggie shifted, trying to get Caleb into a better grip. It had been a long time since she’d held a sleeping five-year-old. “We ran into them at the maze and he transferred the care and feeding of these small animals to me.”

“We’re not animals,” Cassidy protested. “I’m a cowboy—I mean cowgirl.”

“They’re animals,” Jared agreed, coming up from behind. “We’re closing down, and I get to take a break before cleanup. Anybody want a last-minute hot dog? We’re giving away the leftovers.” He didn’t look surprised when no one took him up on his offer.

Gently, he tried to take Caleb from Maggie’s arms.

But Caleb, even in sleep, was already comfortable and he wasn’t letting go. His hands curled into Maggie’s shirt and his head nestled tightly into her neck.

“I think he likes me,” Maggie said.

“He just likes girls,” Cassidy reminded her.

“Now you’re going to have part of a boot all the way to your nose,” Beth said. “Stop moving. I’m going to need to do some boot repairs here.” She nodded toward Caleb. “Why don’t you guys take him to the nursery? He’ll be more comfortable. I’ll finish with Cassidy while you’re gone.”

Jared nodded, already turning to head from the gym. Maggie followed, letting him open the doors for her. The hallway was almost empty. The crafters had packed up what was left. The stragglers were either helping with cleanup or children of the cleanup crew. Almost everyone said something personal to Jared. More than a few introduced themselves to Maggie even while raising an eyebrow.

Small towns were the same everywhere.

After a moment, they were at the nursery’s door. Jared hit a dimmer switch that allowed him to adjust the light. Just able to see, he headed past a few rocking chairs, a changing table and to a crib. “He won’t be happy waking up in one of these, especially if one of his brothers finds out.”

“Then we won’t tell them.”

Maggie gently rubbed Caleb’s back. He was heavy against her chest and smelled of sweat and hot dogs and little boy.

Maggie figured his father smelled of sweat and hot dogs and big boy.

“You know your way around this church,” Maggie remarked as she lay Caleb down. “This nursery reminds me of a church in Lubbock. I spent many a sermon sitting in it while taking care of Cassidy.”

“So you do go to church? I’ve never seen you here.”

It was too late to erase the words. Blame them on an overload of nostalgia. Maggie tucked the blanket over Caleb. “At one time I went to church. I don’t see the need now. Although, your church is lovely. I like how everyone interacts. I was never at a congregation long enough for the members to get to know me.”

“I’d hate that. Why did you move so often?”

“My husband was military.”

“Was?”

Maggie busied herself by brushing a strand of Caleb’s hair out of his eyes and tucking him in yet again. After a moment, Jared sat in one of the rocking chairs and said, “You don’t seem to have trouble fitting in. Beth thinks highly of you and so does my brother.”

“They have to think highly of me.” Maggie turned to face Jared. “I stock the kind of clothes Beth likes, and I paid your brother in cash for the work he did on my shop and plan for him to do more.”

Jared laughed. The sound was deep and showed Maggie a side of the man she doubted many saw. Most of the time, like when he was trying to meet with his son’s teacher, or clean up messy pancake batter, or drink coffee, or even push hot dogs at a church function, he came across as way too serious.

“I think I need to think highly of you, too,” he confessed.

“Why?”

“I watched you with Caleb tonight. He and Cassidy were like twins, running here, running there, running everywhere. You kept them in sight, you kept them in control and never once lost your patience.”

“I’ve had years of practice—first with my dad, who expected me to practically salute when he issued an order, and then with my late husband.”

“Your husband expected you to salute?”

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