Marrying the Billboard Cowboy (Christmas in Redemption Ridge)

Chapter 6

6

K aitlyn remained wordless as Zeke lifted his hand, a silent signal catching the waitress’s attention as she wove through the scattered tables of the diner. She approached with a ready smile, her pen poised over the notepad.

“What can I get you?” Her gaze flitted between Zeke and Kaitlyn, who hugged her arms around herself, as if she could use them to shield against the world that had let her down too often.

“Pancakes for him,” Kaitlyn said, pointing at Stet, her voice a soft murmur cloaked in the hum of morning chatter. “And just a side of toast for me, please.” She was already adding up the pennies. She’d gotten a couple hundred bucks from selling her car, but it wouldn’t last long.

“White or wheat?” the waitress asked, scribbling down the order.

“Wheat,” Kaitlyn replied, avoiding eye contact, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her thrift-store jacket.

“That’s not enough.” Zeke’s voice had that rough edge to it—not unkind, but laced with concern. “Order something else.”

She shook her head, a wisp of brown hair escaping her ponytail and brushing against her cheek. “I’m not very hungry,” she murmured, her eyes darting away, hiding something more than just a lack of appetite.

“Come on, darlin’. That won’t do.” Zeke turned his head back to the waitress. Kaitlyn was trying to untangle the casual endearment. “She’ll have the Rancher’s Special.”

“Eggs?”

“Scrambled,” he said with a quick glance toward her, apparently deciding she wouldn’t answer herself. He was right. Her brain still wasn’t working. It had stalled on one word like a scratched CD in her old boombox.

Darlin’ .

“Bacon or Sausage?”

Her mouth hung open as Zeke continued to answer the waitress’s questions, ordering her what sounded to be an obscene amount of food.

Kaitlyn’s eyes widened in protest. “Zeke, really, I—”

“Please,” he insisted, “it’s on me.” And with that, he ordered his own meal—a simple plate of biscuits and gravy, with eggs and sausage links, his decisiveness leaving no room for argument.

“Make sure there’s extra syrup,” Zeke added, his eyes flickering to Stetson, whose face brightened at the mention of the sweet topping.

“Coming right up,” the waitress said with a nod and turned on her heel back to the kitchen.

As their waitress walked away, Kaitlyn found herself staring at Zeke. The morning sunlight streaming through the diner window caught the natural highlights in his dark hair, and the stubble along his jaw seemed less unkempt and more ruggedly intentional. His profile, sharp and earnest, exuded a strength she’d only ever dreamed of leaning on.

The flutter in her chest surprised her; it was a sensation she hadn’t felt in so long, it felt foreign. He wasn’t just handsome; he was handsome in the way of mountain ranges and open skies—vast, breathtaking, impossible to ignore.

She’d known men who took charge before, but they had been controlling, not caring. Zeke’s insistence came from a place of genuine concern, and it struck a chord within her—a longing for a care she’d forgotten could exist.

Kaitlyn swallowed hard, trying to still the tremble that threatened to betray her newfound nervousness. No one had ever looked out for her this way, made her feel considered, without it being a prelude to a demand. There was a gentle authority to Zeke, a protective nature that didn’t suffocate but rather wrapped around her like a blanket against the chill of her hardscrabble life.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, a warmth rising to her cheeks, unsure if the gratitude was solely for the food.

Stetson’s legs swung back and forth under the table, his small heels thumping rhythmically against the wooden chair. The boy’s energy seemed uncontainable, yet when Zeke leaned across the table with a soft-spoken question about Stetson’s favorite dinosaur, the child paused, eyes wide with the thrill of sharing.

“Triceratops!” Stetson exclaimed, hands shaping imaginary horns on his head.

“Is that so?” Zeke didn’t smile much, but his voice was warm, the timbre smooth like worn leather. “You know, they’re plant eaters. Got a big frill on their neck too.”

Stetson nodded vigorously, taken with Zeke’s knowledge. Kaitlyn watched the exchange, her heart thawing by degrees as Zeke treated her son not as a nuisance, but as someone worth listening to. It was an act of kindness she hadn’t prepared for. She’d half expected Zeke to turn around and walk away when he saw Stetson. But despite the questions in his eyes, he’d stayed. And that was more than anyone else in her life had done.

A woman with hair the color of summer goldenrod stopped by their table.

“Zeke, I didn’t expect to see you here,” the woman said, her voice lilting with surprise.

“Hey, Bella.” Zeke stood, his movements deliberate as he embraced her. “Kaitlyn, this is Bella Knight. Bella, this is Kaitlyn. My fiancée.”

Bella flashed a surprised look. “Really? I hadn’t heard you were dating anyone.”

Zeke shrugged. “When you know, you know.”

“And where’d you find this one, Zeke?” Bella asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she glanced at Stetson. “He’s quite the charmer.”

“Found him and his mom at a crossroads,” Zeke replied casually.

Bella laughed, apparently hearing Zeke’s words as a joke, instead of the truth they were.

Kaitlyn forced a smile, though her heart felt heavy, like a stone in a still pond.

“Must be a lively ranch with him around,” Bella said, glancing between Stetson and Kaitlyn. Her gaze lingered a moment too long, as if piecing together a story from the threads of their appearance.

“Never a dull moment,” Kaitlyn admitted, hoping the tightness in her throat wasn’t audible.

“I better get back to work,” Bella said.

“Bella’s dad owns the place,” Zeke explained as she walked away, clearing plates from a nearby table.

The waitress approached, balancing a tray laden with food, steam wafting from the pancakes like morning fog lifting from the earth.

“Here we are,” the waitress announced, setting down a plate piled high with fluffy pancakes in front of Stetson, followed by Kaitlyn’s protein-laden plate and Zeke’s biscuits swimming in gravy.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Zeke said, eyeing the generous helpings of bacon and eggs alongside the toast she’d originally wanted. “You need more than bread.”

Kaitlyn opened her mouth, then closed it, unsure whether to feel grateful or stubborn. But the growl of her stomach betrayed her pride, and she simply nodded.

Kaitlyn worked on her bacon, tearing it into smaller, manageable pieces.

They all ate, and Kaitlyn kept her focus on the plate before her, allowing each bite to be a reminder that kindness still existed, even in the most unexpected places.

When her plate was almost empty and her stomach fuller than it had been in months, Zeke slid a couple of sausage links onto her plate, nudging them toward her with his fork. Kaitlyn glanced up. “Thanks,” she said softly, the word feeling inadequate as it often did these days.

“Of course,” Zeke replied, his tone gruff but not unkind.

Stetson’s giggles drifted across the table, a welcome melody in the bustling diner as he chased a last bite of pancake through a pool of syrup. Kaitlyn’s gaze shifted from her son to Zeke. With each stolen glance, Zeke’s broad shoulders and the way his dark hair curled just so at the collar of his shirt pulled at her. Her heart thrummed harder, an unwanted rhythm that echoed her swirling thoughts.

“Big plans for the holiday season?”

“Nothing too extraordinary,” Zeke said. “Just family, food, and fellowship. Redemption likes to go pretty big for the holiday, so there’ll be a lot of community stuff going on.”

“Sounds perfect,” Kaitlyn murmured, almost to herself, as she admired the way Zeke’s stubble framed his strong jawline.

Kaitlyn realized the plate before her was clean, save for a few crumbs. She hadn’t noticed finishing it, her attention divided between her son and the man across from her.

Zeke caught the waitress’s eye and handed over a credit card without a second glance. His eyes were entirely fixed on her.

“Thank you,” Kaitlyn found herself saying again as the waitress walked away. Her voice wavered slightly, betraying the storm of gratitude and doubt that raged inside her. “For the meal... and everything.”

Zeke turned his gaze to her, a flicker of something softening the usual reserve in his eyes. “You’re welcome, Kaitlyn. It’s no trouble at all.”

She wanted to believe him, to lean into the safety his presence suggested, but the shadows of past disappointments whispered caution.

Zeke pushed back his chair and stood, towering over the table with a sense of purpose that had Kaitlyn’s heart skittering. His eyes—dark, like winter storm clouds rolling over the mountains—met hers, and there it was: a flicker of vulnerability, quick as a lightning strike, that rendered her breathless.

“Let’s get going,” he said, voice edged with a gruffness that couldn’t quite hide the concern lacing each word.

Outside, the crisp mountain air carried the scent of pine and the promise of snow. Zeke led them to a huge black truck, its frame dusted and flecked with dried mud. He opened the passenger door for Kaitlyn, then circled around the back to help Stetson climb into the cab.

“Got a booster seat for him?” Zeke frowned slightly as he glanced inside the spacious interior, his gaze searching for the safety device that wasn’t there.

Kaitlyn hesitated, her fingers tightening on the cold metal of the truck door. “No, but it’s fine. We’re not far, right?” She hated the thought of causing any inconvenience, yet the weight of his protective stare compelled her to honesty.

“Far enough.” Zeke’s decision was resolute, the words spoken with the certainty of a man unwilling to bend certain rules. “We’ll stop and pick one up. Can’t have little man riding without one.”

Before she could protest, he closed the door gently, yet firmly, and strode off toward the driver’s side. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken battle he’d won.

Kaitlyn sank into the supple leather seat, warmth from the heater already wrapping around her, chasing away the chill. The faint scent of the air freshener mingled with a hint of leather and something undefinably masculine. She watched as Zeke settled behind the wheel, his movements sure and steady, much like the man himself.

“Thank you,” she whispered, unsure if the words reached him over the hum of the engine. But maybe they didn’t need to. Her gratitude was in every glance she cast his way, every line of tension easing from her shoulders under his quiet care.

“Mommy, is Mr. Zeke mad?” Stetson’s small voice whispered up from the backseat, his brow furrowing in concern.

Zeke’s mouth turned down, and his mouth opened as though to answer. “No, sweetie,” Kaitlyn said as she twisted to meet her son’s worried gaze. “Mr. Zeke just wants to make sure you’re safe. That’s what good people do—they look out for each other.”

“Like superheroes?” Stetson’s eyes widened with the hope only a child could muster.

“Exactly like superheroes,” Kaitlyn agreed, allowing herself a small laugh that felt like a release. She glanced at Zeke, studying the profile of his face.

For a fleeting moment, she let herself believe in heroes again, in protectors who didn’t wear capes but carried the weight of others’ safety with a silent, steadfast resolve. She desperately wanted to believe that Zeke was that kind of superhero.