Kitabı oku: «His Christmas Redemption», sayfa 3

Chapter Three

If Lance hadn’t once been married to Erin, he’d have thought her giant Christmas planner a joke. But when it came to Erin and her planners, she was dead serious. The only trouble was, Lance wasn’t sure how he was going to accomplish all the items on her list. It was tempting to simply do the items that were easy and skip the rest, but that would mean Erin would just find a way to do them herself.

And judging from the way her face scrunched up in pain when she tried to stretch the time period between medication, her injury was still bothering her a couple days after the accident. It was to be expected, but not when you were Erin and you had a list.

That was why Lance found himself standing on the front porch, wrapped in winter gear after picking up the boys from school. It had remained cold enough after the snow that Erin was determined to check off one of the items on her list—sledding.

The boys ran out from the barn, carrying an old sled. “Here it is, Uncle Lance.”

Erin came stomping onto the porch. To go outside, Lance had layered garbage bags over her boot to keep her foot dry, but it made it more difficult for her to maneuver.

“That hill over there is good for sledding,” she said, pointing to a nice area in front of the house. “I can stay here on the porch and watch you guys.”

She didn’t look happy about it and he didn’t blame her. After all, sledding was fun. They’d often gone with friends to a giant hill near their house. The passing thought brought an ache to his heart.

A few months before Erin had gotten pregnant they’d gone sledding together. It had been the most wonderful day and Lance could still remember cuddling by the crackling fire with Erin, talking about how someday they’d bring their kids to do the same.

Only it hadn’t ever happened.

Lily had died before she was old enough to enjoy the giant sledding hill.

He glanced over at Erin. Did she remember?

Maybe it didn’t matter to her the way it did to him. But remembering, at least for him, was what made it so difficult to move on and find peace. It was easy to go on with his life, being angry with Erin. However his anger was only part of the story. The other part was the great love he’d once had for her and not understanding how it could so easily be gone. How she could just walk away from it. And why, as much as she had hurt him, he could still cling to those memories and wish things had turned out differently.

Dylan handed him the sled. Even though it wouldn’t have been Lance’s first choice, it looked safe enough. Lance glanced over at Erin.

She gave him a smile and gestured at the hill. “Go on. I don’t know why, but it’s always seemed to me that sledding makes it more Christmassy. We don’t always have enough snow around Christmas, so I’m excited to give the boys a chance.”

Erin sat on the chair he’d brought out for her then took the camera from around her neck and held it up. “Leah will be sad to have missed it, but I’ll get some great pictures for her.”

When they’d been married, Erin had often told him that a picture couldn’t replace being there. She’d been angry with him for all the time he’d spent at work. In their fights leading up to the divorce, she’d mentioned it more than once. Their daughter had just died and she’d wanted to rub it in about all the things he’d missed.

Maybe she was right. But he’d been doing his best, trying to provide a life for their family. He’d always thought that as the business grew, and Lily got older, it would be easier to take the time off that he needed. He just hadn’t counted on not having the opportunity to watch his daughter grow up. He’d never thought that the someday he’d been counting on wouldn’t ever come.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at the boys. They had picked up some snow and were tossing small snowballs at each other.

Erin must have sensed where his attention had gone. “It’s okay. We’ve talked to the boys about safety and they know it’s okay to throw snowballs, as long as they’re little ones and you have the other person’s permission.”

She sounded so prim as she spoke, the great rule enforcer. But the two of them had gotten into enough snowball fights of their own that Lance knew Erin didn’t always fight fair.

He bent and picked up a little bit of snow, carefully shaping it into a ball as he walked toward her.

“Don’t tell me that’s for me,” she said, looking at him sternly. “You wouldn’t harm a poor, defenseless woman, would you?”

He grinned. “That’s never stopped you before.”

Erin glanced over at the boys. “That was in the past. And my sisters and I have agreed that all our snowball fights would be fair.”

Lance could attest to the sheer brutality of their competitiveness when it came to games and things like snowball fights. That was odd, considering how well they all got along otherwise. If the brothers took after the sisters, Lance could see why they would need to institute rules on fairness.

“But I’m not your sister,” he said, coming closer.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Until that moment he hadn’t been planning on using the snowball against her. But there was something about the gleam in her eyes that felt like an irresistible dare.

He tossed the snowball in her direction. It hit her square in the chest.

Erin jumped up. “You’re going to regret that.”

She hobbled over to the porch railing and grabbed some of the snow that was still there. It was good snow. The soft, fluffy kind that made for easy packing. It would have been easy to walk away, or at least to dodge her attack. But it had been a long time since Lance had seen that look in her eyes and he’d be a fool if he didn’t admit that it was one of the most beautiful things he’d seen in a long time. It wasn’t that Erin was pretty. Because pretty wasn’t the right word for her. There was something strong, fierce and incredibly awe-inspiring in her eyes. The expression was what had attracted him to Erin in the first place, because he knew that if you were fortunate enough to have the love of a woman like that, you had more than most men ever dreamed of.

A snowball hit him smack in the face.

That was a good reminder of the downside to loving a woman like Erin.

Lance picked up another handful of snow. Erin scooped more from the railing.

“Do you really want to do this?” she asked. “Because I will win.”

Snowballs went sailing at the same time and while Erin’s hit him square in the chest, his missed.

“You still want to mess with me?” she asked.

“Uncle Lance!” Dylan came running to him. “When we were in the house getting ready, you said we couldn’t get Aunt Erin. The snow will hurt her cast.”

Ryan followed his brother. “You can’t get Auntie!”

The boys both picked up snow and made snowballs that they tossed directly at Lance.

The snow hit Lance with a resounding thud. Erin laughed. “That’s what you get for breaking the rules.”

Lance shook his head as he brushed the snow off. “I can definitely see where I didn’t think that idea through well enough.”

“You should say you’re sorry and give her a hug,” Dylan said, looking at him sternly.

When he looked at Erin, she was still wiping tears of mirth from her eyes and Lance didn’t think she’d heard the little boy.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, buddy,” Lance said.

Innocent eyes looked up at him. “Why not? Mom says hugs are always a good idea,” Dylan said. Then Dylan frowned. “Unless the person doesn’t want a hug, and then you should respect their wishes. But auntie loves hugs.”

As if his lecture settled the matter, both Dylan and Ryan ran to Erin and hugged her. Erin smiled as she looked over their heads at him. “I do love hugs,” she said. “But we don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable. At least now you know that we take our rules very seriously here, and you shouldn’t even think about messing with me.”

Her tone was light and there was understanding in her eyes. He’d been trying to have fun, they both had, but it was amazing how even the smallest things became difficult reminders of their complicated past. Maybe, even though it seemed like they were both trying to move forward, making peace wasn’t as easy as his therapist had led him to believe.

So what did peace look like? What did it mean to come to terms with both their daughter’s death and their divorce?

Maybe, as the boys ran back to their sled, it wasn’t a question they needed to settle right this very minute.

Lance grinned at Erin. “I will be expecting a rematch once you’re healed.”

“You’re on,” she said, laughing.

That was the other thing he’d loved, and missed, about Erin. Her laugh. She had one of the most beautiful, most contagious, laughs of anyone he’d ever met. The kind that made you feel absolutely comfortable and at ease because you knew she was laughing with you, not at you.

“Uncle Lance!” Dylan held up the sled.

“Go,” Erin said. “The boys have been really excited about today. I’ve been promising them for weeks that as soon as we got a good snow, we’d go sledding.”

And every day since her accident, she’d put them off. Or rather, he’d put them off. As he jogged over to the boys, he realized he’d been working hard at keeping his distance, trying not to let how they had so easily taken to calling him “Uncle Lance” or how they automatically included him in everything, be caught in his heart.

Was there a way for him to maintain a relationship with them once he left? He took the sled from Dylan and carried it the rest of the way up the hill. It wasn’t much of a hill, just a gentle, sloping space that would allow the boys the enjoyment of sledding but not the high-speed thrills he and Erin used to chase after.

They’d had a lot of fun together. Funny how it had taken being apart almost two years to remember it.

The boys got on the sled and Lance gave them a small push to send them sailing down the hill. He ran after them, letting their laughter warm his heart.

It was going to be impossible not to find himself attached. It hadn’t hurt as much leaving the boys behind the first time; he’d been too deep in his own grief to understand how big a part of his life they were.

When they reached the bottom of the hill, the edge of the sled hit a tiny bump and sent the boys flying. Even though they were laughing, Lance ran over to make sure they were okay.

“Again!” Ryan chortled, jumping up and running toward him.

Dylan picked up the sled and followed his brother. “That was awesome. We probably flew a hundred feet in the air.”

They hadn’t flown at all, but the boys’ excitement made him smile. After losing Lily and Erin, Lance had vowed not to remarry or have children. He’d jokingly told people that he was married to his company and that it was enough. But as the snowy boys rushed at him with open arms, he thought that perhaps he might have been too hasty. He found his work rewarding, but no one from the office ever ran around giving him hugs. Not only would it be inappropriate, as much as he liked the people he worked with, he hadn’t ever felt like hugging any of them.

He looked up from the boys and over at Erin as she watched. She set the camera down and waved at him. Lance waved back, feeling like a schoolboy as he noticed her shining eyes. She might not have been able to join in on the fun, but she was clearly enjoying herself.

“Come on, Uncle Lance.” Dylan tugged on his pants, so he grabbed the sled and they made the trek back up the hill. He used to laugh at all the people who talked about living for the moment; he’d never understood why they weren’t planning for their futures. But now he almost understood. He should have kept his distance, knowing that the inevitable goodbye was coming. As he got the boys situated on the sled for another trip down the hill, he pushed aside his worries for the future and sent the boys sailing again.

Maybe he’d lost his chance to be a dad, and he wouldn’t remain an uncle much longer, but for now it was enough. He’d find a way to deal with the inevitable pain later.

Even though Erin hadn’t been able to do any sledding, she’d had enough fun just watching everyone. It had been a long time since she’d seen Lance let loose like that. Everything since Lily had been born was about being responsible and doing the right thing. It was funny how he liked to mock her lists, but he had a similar need for organization and control.

When they’d met, Lance had been one of the most fun people she’d ever been around besides her sisters. They used to have wild adventures together—not the crazy college-party thing, but things like hiking and camping or sledding. She didn’t think Lance had been sledding since before Lily was born. He hadn’t wanted to go without her and he’d always been so busy at work. He used to tell her that he was working hard for Lily’s future. But what good was the future if you didn’t take the time to enjoy the present? Did he regret all the time he’d spent at work instead of with their family?

The sun was getting low in the sky, which meant they only had a little bit of daylight left to feed the horses and take care of the other chores. Shane had brought his horses over while they were on their honeymoon so Erin wouldn’t have to go back and forth. At the time she’d thought it was a needless effort. But now she was glad.

“Time to come in,” she called when Lance and the boys got to the bottom of the hill for what had to be the thousandth time.

They came to her, disappointment overshadowing their laughter.

“Do you think we can do it again tomorrow?” Dylan asked.

“We’ll see,” she said. “Right now, we need to feed the animals.”

The trouble with having broken limbs was that the animals didn’t know any differently. They still had to be cared for. One more thing Erin had to give credit to Lance for. Despite his lack of experience, he’d still jumped in to do everything that was needed. The boys ran past her to the barn, already knowing their jobs. They would get out the hose and refill the water while Lance took care of the hay.

Lance stayed behind, walking alongside her. “You’re not too tired, are you? I didn’t mean for us to stay out so long. I can’t remember when I’ve had so much fun.”

She turned and smiled at him. “I’m glad. I was just thinking that it must’ve been a long time since you’ve been sledding.”

He nodded slowly. “Not since that last time before Lily was born.”

He stopped, holding her back slightly. “What went wrong with us? I keep thinking about that day and how much in love we were, and I don’t understand how we lost it so easily. What happened to all those plans of forever?”

A lot of things. But when she’d pointed them out to him in counseling, he’d bristled, telling her it wasn’t fair to blame him for her decision to leave. When she’d pushed too hard, he’d ended the conversation. So what could she say now? He’d come here, looking for peace after their divorce. Even though she had her own part in their relationship breakdown, she knew that until he accepted what he’d done wrong in the marriage, he wouldn’t be able to find that peace.

“Sometimes having fun and being in love isn’t enough to make a marriage work,” she said finally.

He gave her the same confused look he’d given her when she’d asked for the divorce. “Then what? What else does a marriage need?”

The boys couldn’t be left unattended in the barn for too long. Nicole’s horse, Snookie, while much better trained than she’d been when they’d first gotten her, was still uncomfortable around children. The boys knew not to go near her, but that didn’t mean they always listened.

Erin took another step toward the barn. “Every marriage is different. And I know, after everything you’ve done to help me the past few days, I owe you a better explanation. But I need to make sure the boys are safe. So I’ll tell you what. One of these nights, when the boys are in bed, you and I can have some hot chocolate and we’ll talk. I may not totally have the answers you’re looking for, but I can at least tell you what else I needed, if that’s something you’re open to hearing.”

He started for the barn. “You’re right. I wasn’t even thinking about the boys.”

He shook his head slowly then stopped again. “This is why I don’t do emotions. You used to always get on me about that, wanting to know how I felt. But here I am, feeling things I don’t understand, and I’ve already lost sight of what’s important.” Not waiting for an answer, he continued toward the barn.

If she could sum up precisely why she’d finally decided that their marriage couldn’t be saved, his previous words would do that nicely. He thought emotions got in the way of more important business. But, for her, emotions were important business. And when you didn’t deal with them, they clogged up everything else. Though he was quick to dismiss those feelings, she didn’t think they were gone at all. They might not be front and center, but they were there, lurking. Even though Lance hadn’t yet told her exactly what he’d meant by making peace with her, she suspected that his lack of peace stemmed from having dismissed all his emotions.

She let him go on ahead, giving him space to sort out whatever was in his head as she came up slowly behind him. Lance had fed the horses enough times that he knew what to do and how much.

Maybe someday they’d come to a place of enough understanding that they could have this conversation and it would not be so difficult for Lance. But that was on him to figure out. Her divorce had taught her that it wasn’t her job to fix Lance. He had to choose for himself what was important to him and why.

When she got to the barn, she didn’t see Lance or the boys near the horses, but she could hear them in the tack room. Hopefully, Dylan wasn’t trying to talk him into some of his shenanigans. Though Shane had firmly told the boys they couldn’t go riding until he was home, Dylan had mentioned almost every day that he wanted to go riding.

“What’s going on?” she asked when she entered the room.

The boys looked like they were about to cry. Lance didn’t look like he was faring much better.

“Fluffy the Second didn’t eat her breakfast,” Dylan said.

Fluffy the Second was the barn cat they’d gotten a few weeks ago from Ricky. Their last barn cat had disappeared a couple of months ago and the boys had been devastated. Unfortunately a ranch was a dangerous place for barn cats, with all the predators wandering around. Hence, Fluffy’s status of being the second and the boys’ concern over the untouched bowl of cat food.

“Maybe she went to visit a friend,” Erin suggested.

Dylan looked at her like she was an idiot. “Cats don’t have friends. My friend Jake said that Fluffy the First probably got eaten by a coyote.”

Ryan started to cry. And poor Lance looked like he wanted to do about the same. Lance’s discomfort with emotion also meant that he couldn’t stand watching anyone cry. Erin knew from experience that he would do just about anything to keep a child from crying.

“I’m sure Jake doesn’t know everything about cats,” Lance said. “Weren’t you just telling me that Snookie is Elmer’s girlfriend? If a horse can have a girlfriend, why can’t a cat have a regular friend?”

Dylan looked thoughtful for a moment. “Because when Fluffy the First went missing, Mom said the same thing. But I overheard Dad telling Uncle Fernando that one of the critters probably got him. That means a coyote.”

As he spoke, Erin was frantically gesturing to get him to stop. His words only made Ryan cry harder. Ryan’s poor little heart was breaking at the thought of losing another cat. She went over to the bench and held her arms out to Ryan, who climbed onto her lap, sobbing against her chest. Erin rubbed his back as she glared at Dylan.

“What?” Dylan asked. “I’m only telling the truth. When you’re a cowboy, living on a ranch, you have to know the facts of life.”

The little boy’s seriousness made Erin want to laugh. But Ryan was still so upset, she didn’t dare. Besides, Dylan needed to learn a little sensitivity when it came to sharing those facts.

“One bowl of uneaten food does not mean we lost Fluffy the Second to a coyote,” Erin said firmly. She cuddled Ryan closer to her and gave him a kiss on top of his head. “I’m sure she’s fine. But we can say a prayer for her, just in case.”

She glanced up at Lance, who had turned white. She’d already overloaded him emotionally and this had probably taken him over the top. Helping Erin had probably turned into way more than Lance had bargained for, poor guy.

Her suggestion caused Ryan to stop sniffling and look up.

“But what if it doesn’t work, like when we prayed for Fluffy the First?”

One more parent thing she hadn’t been prepared to deal with. But she could feel Lance’s expectant gaze upon her. A man who’d lost his faith and two little boys who were just developing theirs needed to hear some kind of wisdom about what it meant to pray for their lost cat.

Lance had ridiculed her for her faith when they’d lost Lily. She never could explain to him why, just that she still trusted in God’s goodness. That was how she felt about the missing cat.

Would God bring Fluffy the Second back to them safely?

She had no idea. But she had to trust in God’s answer.

“Prayer doesn’t change God’s mind,” she said finally. “But sharing our thoughts with Him brings Him closer to us. He can give us love and comfort in this time, and remembering how He’s comforted us now, we can look back on it in the future, knowing that whatever comes our way, God will be there for us.”

Three blank stares weighed heavily on her. “When you tell your friends about your problems, do your friends ever fix them?” she asked.

She looked over at Dylan. “When you told Jake about Fluffy the First, did it change the result of what happened to him?”

Dylan shook his head.

“But did you feel better?” she asked.

“Yes,” Dylan said, nodding slowly. “I knew he understood how I felt because a coyote ate one of his cats.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for patience. They needed to get off the cat-eating coyote subject. But at least he’d proved her point.

“And that’s what prayer is. We’re sharing the deepest parts of our hearts with God because we know He understands. He might not change the circumstances, but at least we know He’s there for us and wants to show His love for us.”

Ryan wiped his nose on his sleeve and looked up at her. “But I want Fluffy the Second back.”

She didn’t know how else to help a four-year-old understand.

“We all do. But you know how sometimes you ask your mom for a cookie and she says yes, but sometimes she says no? You know your mom still loves you even if you can’t have another cookie. That’s how God is,” she said, hoping she’d gotten a little closer with her description.

Ryan rested his head on her chest. “Mom only lets me have cookies sometimes and she says too many cookies are bad for me.”

Dylan came and put his arm around her. “I snuck some cookies one time after mom said no. I ate them all. But then I had a stomachache and I threw up.”

One more illustration she wasn’t going for.

Ryan gave another big sniffle, wiped his nose again and looked at his brother. “That’s why you should listen to Mom even if you don’t like it.”

Then Dylan turned his attention to her. “So it’s kind of like that with God? You can ask Him for stuff but He might still say no.”

“It’s exactly like that,” she said.

The boys exchanged the kind of look Erin and her sisters used to share with one another, a secret language only they understood. Whatever the boys were communicating, it gave Erin confidence that they at least had figured it out among themselves.

Ryan climbed off her lap and started back toward the main barn. “Maybe tomorrow we can go look for Fluffy the Second.”

“That sounds like a great plan,” Erin said. Hopefully they’d find the cat safe and sound. “In the meantime, do you want to say a prayer for Fluffy the Second?”

Dylan stood tall. “Can I say the prayer?”

It was tempting to say no. Who knew what would come out of the little boy’s mouth next? But how could she deny the faith of a child?

“Sure, go ahead.”

Dylan clasped his hands together and above his head. “Dear God, please bring Fluffy the Second back home safely. And if a coyote has eaten her, please give him a really bad tummy ache so he never eats anyone else’s cats again. Amen.”

Lance gave a kind of chortle snort, like he was desperately trying not to laugh and having difficulty keeping it in. And as much as Erin would have preferred a more proper prayer, she knew it came from the heart and couldn’t fault Dylan for his honesty.