Marrying the Billboard Cowboy (Christmas in Redemption Ridge)

Chapter 12

12

K aitlyn moved with quiet determination, pulling pans from the cupboards and setting them on the stove—a silent declaration of her intent to belong in this new world that was Redemption Ridge Ranch.

She’d gotten out of bed before Zeke, knowing that it was the only way to get breakfast ready before he headed out to work. Over the last two weeks, it had become something she was clinging to, wanting to pay back his kindness in some small way.

Cracking four eggs, she let the rhythmic sounds fill the silence of the cabin. The sizzle of bacon mingled with the dripping coffee. A soft hum escaped her lips, blending with the homely symphony. The fragrance of breakfast began to permeate the air as she cleared off the counter. The small cabin seemed an entirely different place since they’d first arrived.

Packages had piled onto their doorstep nonstop since the wedding, filled with toys for Stetson, and clothing for both of them. She suspected that most of them were from Zeke, though he had pleaded the fifth when she asked about them. There were also gifts from his family and others around the ranch who had heard about their nuptials.

Yet each package she opened also whispered to her shame, reminding her that she was dependent on this man. She was getting to know Zeke slowly, but he was still a mystery. And there was a not-insignificant part of her that feared what would happen when he realized that he’d gotten the raw end of this deal.

Breakfast, dinner, housekeeping. She was trying to do anything she could to make sure she was valuable to him. Kaitlyn’s gaze landed on the lodge, visible through the front window. She had insisted on helping there as well—folding sheets, arranging flowers—but it was casual, unofficial. She needed something concrete. A real job that she could call her own, money that she could use to make sure the past never followed them from Denver. She’d considered the diner, the bakery, even the little library down by the town hall.

She flipped the eggs gently, considering how many paychecks she’d need to pay the debt. Then how many more to build a buffer against the unexpected. The idea of saving for Stetson’s future uncurled like a protective shield within her chest. Not just for him though—for herself too, a way to reinforce her independence.

“Mommy, it smells good!” Stetson’s voice, still thick with sleep, carried into the kitchen before he appeared at the doorway, rubbing his eyes with pudgy fists. His sleepy smile was all the thanks she needed as he bounced over to the table, climbing onto the chair with an eagerness that mirrored his growing appetite.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Kaitlyn said, ruffling his dark hair affectionately. “I thought some bacon would give you lots of energy for your last day before Thanksgiving break.”

“Yay! We’re making turkeys with our handprints today!” Stetson chirped, fingers already reaching for a slice of bacon, his earlier reservations about their new life momentarily forgotten in the excitement of school crafts.

As they settled into the meal, Zeke entered the kitchen, the soft thud of his boots on the wooden floor announcing his presence before the scent of soap and aftershave. He took his seat at the head of the table, nodding a silent ‘good morning’ and set to eating with a quiet appreciation that spoke volumes to Kaitlyn. She watched him for a moment, reading the lines of concentration between his brows, wondering what thoughts lay behind those steely eyes.

“Stet, why don’t you go brush your teeth? The bus will be here soon,” Kaitlyn suggested, breaking the comfortable lull that had settled over the breakfast nook.

“Okay, Mommy!” Stetson slid from his chair with an energy that defied the early hour and scampered down the hall.

Once the pattering of little feet faded away, Kaitlyn turned to Zeke, observing his methodical way of cutting through the eggs and bacon. “Everything okay?” she asked, her voice low but clear.

Zeke paused, laying his fork down beside the half-eaten food. “Yeah, it’s just...” He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair, as though debating how much to say. “When we got married, I officially became one-third owner of the ranch. Which is exactly what I wanted, but passing the reins of manager to Jason hasn’t been smooth sailing.”

“Oh?”

Zeke nodded. “Dad’s throwing a fit, which I expected. I just didn’t expect such a long transition. I probably should have, but I was so focused on the first step that I didn’t think too far past that.”

“Transition to what?”

“I want to be a chef at the restaurant instead of the ranch manager,” he admitted. He glanced up at her, as though looking for her approval.

She smiled. “That’s amazing, Zeke. You’ll be great at that.”

He shrugged, but she could see the way his shoulders straightened, as though a small weight had been removed. “Thanks. If it ever happens, that is,” he grumbled.

“It will happen. Maybe…” She hesitated, wondering if she was out of line to suggest anything further.

“What?”

“Maybe you should start with a slow transition. Schedule one or two days a week to start cooking, while still taking care of the rest of your responsibilities on the other days?”

“That’s an idea,” Zeke murmured, offering a small smile. Glancing at his watch, he stood up abruptly. “Time to get Stet to the bus stop.”

“Wait,” Kaitlyn said as he started to clear the table. “What about tonight?”

“Tonight?” He paused, his posture relaxing slightly as he remembered. “Oh, right. The service project at church.” He met her gaze squarely. “We’re still on for that. I think it’ll be good for us, for the community too.”

“Okay,” Kaitlyn replied, a warmth spreading within her at the prospect of contributing to something beyond the confines of the ranch.

“And, Katie?”

She raised her eyebrows and waited, a silent thrill rolling through her at the nickname.

“Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime,” she said.

With a nod, Zeke strode down the hallway to hurry Stetson along, leaving Kaitlyn alone in the kitchen with her thoughts. As the sound of their interaction echoed softly back to her, she allowed herself a moment to admire the strength and tenderness that coexisted in the man she’d married. Even if she hadn’t found her precise role yet, the love and purpose that filled this home were becoming clearer with each passing day.

Kaitlyn’s hands moved deftly to set the cabin to rights. She cleared the table, whisking away crumbs from breakfast, then swept and mopped the floor. She made the beds, tucking away Stetson’s bedding from the couch and fluffing pillows that had been squished overnight. Every task that she could think of in the tiny house, she completed. And it was barely ten in the morning.

Her body thrummed with the need to be useful beyond the walls of their cozy haven. With a last glance at the pristine kitchen, she slipped out the door and made her way to the stables, the earthy smells drawing her in like an old friend.

Muscles flexed beneath her thin jacket, Kaitlyn hefted the pitchfork and set to work on the stalls. The rhythmic scrape and tumble of soiled straw onto the wheelbarrow was oddly meditative. A horse nickered softly nearby, seeking attention from the stall next door. She paused to stroke its muzzle, offering a gentle smile that no one but the animal could see. The fear she’d felt initially around the huge animals had mostly faded, but she was still hesitant.

“Kaitlyn?” The low timbre of Zeke’s voice cut through the calm, bringing her back to the reality of her duties.

She turned to face him, finding his broad figure framed by the stable doorway, the sunlight igniting highlights in his dark hair. “You know we pay people for that, right?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown of mild irritation.

A nonchalant shrug lifted her shoulders as she returned to her task. “I want to help,” she replied, her voice steady, though her heart raced at the thought of displeasing him.

Zeke’s boots thudded across the stable floor until he stood beside her, his presence solid and undeniable. “My wife doesn’t need to be out here shoveling horse manure.”

His words were firm, with an edge she couldn’t decipher. Did it reflect poorly on him to have a wife doing grunt work? She’d seen Cassie out here doing the same tasks, so what was the difference?

Kaitlyn’s grip tightened on the wooden handle of the pitchfork, her resolve not to be seen as idle or ungrateful pressing against Zeke’s protective stance. She met his gaze squarely, the dark depths of her eyes alight with a quiet defiance born of past struggles. “I’m not just your wife, Zeke. I’m part of this ranch now too. And I’ll find my way to prove it.”

His hand reached out, hovering in the air between them, a silent offer of support she hadn’t expected. Zeke’s expression softened, the gruff exterior giving way momentarily to reveal the caring heart that had drawn her to him despite her fears.

“Let me,” he said.

Kaitlyn’s fingers stilled on the pitchfork, the scent of fresh hay and earth filling her senses. She studied Zeke’s face, searching for a hint of understanding in his furrowed brow. “Is it about how it looks?” she ventured, her voice threading through the soft whinnies and rustling of the stable. “I don’t think anyone cares what I do. Does it… make you look bad?”

Zeke frowned sharply. “What? No, of course not. I just mean… I don’t expect you to do this. You’re not a slave.”

“I want to work, Zeke. If I’m not helping here, could I find work somewhere else? I’d like to earn some money anyway,” she admitted.

Zeke’s boots shifted on the floor, his broad shoulders casting a shadow that fell over the half-cleaned stall. “You don’t need a job, Kaitlyn,” he said, the casual tone of his voice belying the weight of his words. It was a simple statement, but it hung between them, heavy with implications she wasn’t sure she wanted to unpack. She didn’t need one? Wasn’t allowed to have one? Surely, he wasn’t restricting her so completely.

A sparrow flitted past, its wings beating a soft rhythm as it disappeared into the rafters. Kaitlyn watched it go, feeling a twinge of envy for its unburdened flight. Her gaze returned to Zeke, finding the lines of his face softened by the morning light that seeped through the slatted walls.

“But what if you change your mind about us?” The question slipped out, quieter than she intended, revealing the tremor of insecurity she’d fought so hard to keep at bay.

Zeke paused, the silence stretching out as he seemed to consider her words. His eyes, the color of the Colorado sky after a storm, held hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. He didn’t have to say anything; his steady gaze was a promise all its own. But still, she waited, the echo of her own vulnerability ringing in her ears.

Tendrils of straw stuck to her gloves, and Kaitlyn’s arms ached from the repetitive motion of mucking out the stalls. She hadn’t expected the work to be glamorous, but there was a simple satisfaction in it, a way to feel like she was earning her keep on Redemption Ridge Ranch.

He reached out, his rough hand cupping her cheek with a tenderness that contrasted with the calluses that grazed her skin. “I’m not going to change my mind,” he assured her, his thumb brushing away a smudge of dirt from her face. “I’m going to take care of you. I’m a man of my word. But even more than that... I want to. You’re mine. And I take care of what’s mine.”

His words wrapped around her like a warm blanket, soothing yet somehow igniting a flame of hope within her chest. It was the reassurance she didn’t know she needed, the solidity of his promise chipping away at the walls she’d built around herself.

“Zeke, I can’t just sit around,” she protested softly, her pride warring with the gratitude that swelled in her heart. “I need to do something to help.” And she really did need the money. Somehow, she had to be prepared.

He shook his head, the stubble on his jaw catching the light as he did so. “You’re working yourself into the ground, Kaitlyn. At the house, the lodge, now here with the animals. It’s too much.” His gaze held a fierce protectiveness that made her pulse quicken.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Her defenses crumbled under his unwavering gaze, leaving her exposed and uncertain.

“You can get a job. I’ll talk to Ashley at the lodge. But you’ll work a reasonable number of hours. And for crying out loud, woman. Stop mopping the cabin every day.”

She giggled. Actually giggled, like a teenager instead of a grown woman. If she had any question about the power Zeke was gaining over her, that confirmed it.

“One more thing. You’re done for today.” He grabbed the pitchfork from her hand.

Her mouth fell open. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re going to the spa,” he said firmly. “Redemption Spa is on the ranch, right up the road. You’re going to go get… pampered or whatever.” The word sounded foreign on his lips.

She blinked, sure a bug would fly into her gaping mouth. “Spa?”

“Yep,” he confirmed with a nod. “Massage, haircut, whatever you need. It’s about time you started enjoying some of the perks of living here.”

The idea of indulging in such a way felt foreign, almost frivolous, but the earnestness in his eyes convinced her to at least consider it. What could it hurt? And if her husband was insisting? “All right,” she conceded, the word feeling strange on her lips.

“Good,” Zeke smiled, his relief evident. “I’ll take care of things here. Go on, enjoy yourself.”

With one last lingering look, Kaitlyn peeled off her gloves and headed toward the spa, the scent of horses and hay giving way to the fragrant aroma of essential oils and herbs as she pushed open the door to the sanctuary Zeke had sent her to.

Inside, the atmosphere was serene, a stark contrast to the bustling activity of the ranch. Soft music played in the background, and Kaitlyn felt the tension in her shoulders ease as she was greeted by the spa attendant.

“Mrs. Reynolds, Mr. Reynolds just called and let us know you’d be coming.” The attendant’s smile was warm. “Let’s start with a facial to rejuvenate your skin, followed by a haircut to freshen up your look. How does that sound?”

“That sounds… wonderful,” Kaitlyn admitted, finally allowing herself to sink into the comfort being offered.

As skilled hands worked over her face, smoothing away the signs of stress and sleepless nights, Kaitlyn let her mind drift. The sensation of being cared for, not just by the spa staff but by Zeke, was completely unfamiliar. And if she allowed it, she was afraid it would be far too easy to get used to.

Later, as she caught sight of herself in the mirror, her brown hair falling in soft layers framing her face, she hardly recognized the woman staring back at her. Gone were the harsh lines of worry, replaced by a glow that came from more than just the skillful application of creams and scissors.

For the first time in a long while, Kaitlyn allowed herself to bask in the feeling of being cherished.

That evening, Kaitlyn walked into the church hall, the scent of turkey filling the air. Rows of tables were lined with volunteers assembling Thanksgiving meals. Cans of cranberry sauce clinked together as they were nestled next to packets of stuffing mix and boxes of instant mashed potatoes. Zeke was already there, folding cardboard boxes with practiced ease.

“Looks like we’re on green bean duty,” he said, nodding toward a stack of cans and a pile of plastic bags waiting to be filled.

“Green beans,” Kaitlyn repeated, her voice soft but steady. She grabbed a can, feeling the cool metal against her skin and the satisfying weight of it in her hand.

As she slipped the cans into the bags, Kaitlyn couldn’t help but flash back to days in Denver when she and Stetson would queue up at places just like this. Her hand trembled slightly, the memory of taking a box of groceries from a stranger still vivid in her mind.

“Everything all right, Katie?” Zeke’s voice pulled her back to the present, his eyes searching hers with a hint of concern.

“Y-yes, just thinking about how much things have changed,” she answered, forcing a small smile.

Zeke reached over and squeezed her hand briefly, a silent message of support. “Change for the better?”

“Definitely for the better,” she replied. Here she was, not just receiving, but giving. It was a role reversal that made her soul sing, even as it grappled with the unfamiliar weight of abundance.

The church was filled with people from the community, doing their small part to help their neighbors. Kaitlyn had already been introduced to the entire Taylor family. Clint was frying the turkeys and his sister, Caroline, had brought boxes and boxes of desserts from her bakery.

Kaitlyn thought she might have even made a new friend in a woman named Nora. The nurse seemed so grounded and confident that Kaitlyn had a bit of imposter syndrome when she realized they were the same age. Their lives were so different.

Even Stetson had found a role, happy to count and package the cookies into groups of six, as long as he was paid for his time in sweets as well.

“Hey, look at us being all efficient,” Zeke joked, breaking into her thoughts. “We’ll have these done in no time.”

Kaitlyn found a rhythm in the simple task next to her husband. Every completed kit was a step further away from her past—a past where uncertainty was the only certainty.

“Last one,” Zeke announced, sealing the final box with a strip of tape. He wiped his brow and looked around at their handiwork.

The hall was filled with rows of packed meals, ready for distribution. Apparently, the Thanksgiving Meal Drive was one of the largest community outreach projects every year.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, turning to Kaitlyn.

She nodded, her gaze lingering on the boxes. “It feels... right.”

“Come on, let’s get these loaded up. Then we can head home,” Zeke said, his use of the word ‘home’ wrapping around Kaitlyn like a warm blanket.

Together, they carried the boxes to the waiting trucks outside. The crisp evening air nipped at Kaitlyn’s cheeks, but inside, she felt nothing but a glowing warmth. This community, this church, this man beside her… She had a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.