Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
We included Phoebe in most of our outings and occasionally invited Abby or Sydney.
Like today.
The girls frosted sugar cookies at a kid-sized table at the Cantina while we sipped hot cocoa at a nearby window seat, ranking our favorite Christmas movies growing up, sprinkles or no sprinkles on desserts, and how old we were when we stopped believing in Santa Claus.
I loved Elf, Axel loved Home Alone, and we each gave a thumbs-up to sprinkles.
As for Santa:
“I was ten. My mom left the price tags on the box of Jax’s Megatron Transformer and crushed my soul,” I lamented, licking whipped cream from the rim of my to-go cup, tapping my feet to “Last Christmas” being piped through the speaker system.
Axel snorted. “Poor baby.”
“I was traumatized. I literally cried. She denied it, and she was pretty convincing. Something about the elves using stickers to help local stores, so grandparents would know where to buy toys too. Like advertising.”
“Whoa. That’s clever.”
“Yeah, my mom was smart.” I arched a brow. “I let it slide that year and decided I might have been mistaken. But I was a suspicious little shit and once you start to question magic, it slowly slides away.”
Axel sipped his cocoa. “That’s heavy, cowboy.”
I chuckled. “Like I said…devastated.”
“I was nine. I caught my dad assembling my sister’s bicycle, and the jig was up.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“Hmm.”
I frowned. “Does she live in Texas?”
“Yep.”
I could take a hint. The grunted and monosyllabic responses indicated that we’d wandered into murky waters, but I pressed anyway.
“You’re not close?”
“No.” He studied Phee, who was intensely focused on putting red candies on a snowman cookie’s belly. “I had a falling out with my family when I was twenty-one and was told to pack my bags and never come back. I didn’t have to be told twice. It was Christmas morning.”
Dangerous territory, I mused as “Last Christmas” gave way to “Santa Baby.”
Don’t ask, don’t ask.
I asked.
“I’m sorry. That’s—what happened?”
“They found out I’d been ‘sexually acquainted’—that was the phraseology, I believe—with someone at the ranch. Another man. He got fired, I got kicked out of the house, and that was that.”
“Are you serious?” I huffed, outraged.
“Yeah.” He waved dismissively. “That’s twenty-year-old news. I’m over it.”
Somehow, I doubted that.
“Do you see any of your family at all?”
“I don’t have a family. My parents are both dead, and my sister married a hellfire and brimstone preacher out of high school. It was a sudden excommunication, and I didn’t deal with it well, as you might imagine,” he said sardonically. “I went from being an average college kid supported by his folks to being dirt poor overnight. I had to get a student loan to finish college. That took a minute. I worked as a valet, a bartender, did some construction—whatever it took to make ends meet. I also felt sorry for myself, hung out with the wrong crowd, doing shit I shouldn’t have been doing, which delayed graduation. I eventually got my degree in business and a nine-to-five job at an ad agency.”
I huffed in amusement. “I can’t picture you behind a desk.”
Axel inclined his head. “I went stir-crazy in a hurry. At thirty-one, I had a come-to-Jesus moment. The kind where you reevaluate your path. Just because I couldn’t go home didn’t mean I had to give up what I’d always loved. Plain and simple, I missed being with animals, I missed the camaraderie of ranch life. I quit my job at the agency to work at a cattle ranch in Colorado, went to veterinary school at night in between shifts as a bouncer at a dive bar.”
“That’s where you met Mel.”
“Yes.” His voice cracked as he shifted toward Phoebe.
“Does she look like her mother?”
“Spittin’ image.” Axel stroked his beard thoughtfully. “It hurts my heart to think of how much she wanted this little girl, and she never got to meet her. She’d be proud of Phee.”
I squeezed his arm and leaned. “She’d be proud of you too. You’ve done well.”
He covered my hand with his. “Thanks.”
Neither of us spoke for a long minute. We didn’t move apart, either. We held hands across the table amid the strains of “Silver Bells” playing below the din of excited chatter. I had no doubt we were noticed, but that didn’t bother us. An invisible string had worked its magic, binding me to him somehow. This connection was too strong to ignore now.
“Why Texas? I mean…why go back there? I get the impression it’s important to you, but it seems like it would stir up bad memories from the past.”
And you could stay here. I didn’t say that last part aloud. Don’t ask why. As an employer, I’d have offered the moon to hire a talented, reliable, and experienced vet-slash-ranch-hand. Especially one who’d become a valued addition at Oak Ridge.