The Wrangler’s Christmas Gift (The Malones of Grand, Montana #4)

Chapter Sixteen

O n Christmas afternoon, Heather packed her car full of the gifts she’d brought and drove the few blocks to Diana and Rand’s home.

“Are you trying to make up for every Christmas you missed?” Em said, looking at the teetering tower in the back seat.

“Hush. It’s a grandma’s prerogative.”

She’d enjoyed buying gifts for the children. She didn’t know what they liked or what they had, but she hoped that tearing into the many brightly wrapped packages would be exciting for them, no matter what was inside.

Buying for the adults had been trickier, but Grand and nearby Forsyth had some excellent artisanal shops where she’d found handknit sweaters and warm winter hats, fun kitchen items, even a jacket for Festus. She, Colt and Em had exchanged gifts in their hotel room that morning and Colt had immediately dressed his dog and then taken a million pictures of him.

Diana had insisted on hosting Christmas dinner for everyone and when they arrived, the preparations were well underway. Holiday entertaining was challenging with three small children underfoot, and Diana had her hands full. They’d rearranged furniture and brought in extra tables so that everyone could eat at the same time. In retrospect, Heather thought, it was too much. Especially since JP was here too, at the other end of the table, and she felt his presence like an underground current, the hum of steel on a railway track when a train is coming.

But that evening as her daughter stood up and raised her glass, Heather saw that Diana was proud of what she’d accomplished in bringing everyone together.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Diana said. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair a bit wild. She was lovely.

“To family, in whatever form it takes, however convoluted our connections, and however long it takes to build them.”

“To family,” echoed voices around the table.

“To building connections.” Em gave a little laugh. “Or tearing down and rebuilding.”

There was something sharp in her tone. Heather thought she and Diana had made their peace, but perhaps she’d been overly optimistic.

“To rebuilding,” Colt said, from his end.

Ah. Maybe Em’s comment wasn’t directed at Diana.

But no one else seemed to notice. JP, in his role as Father Patrick, offered a blessing and then Coralee McKinley brought in a platter with sliced turkey, to oohs and aaahs of appreciation. She’d apparently recovered from the drama of dropping her heavy roasting pan in the snow after slipping on the sidewalk. The turkey had been unscathed, though Coralee had needed to run home to fix her makeup and change her outfit. She’d kept the heels.

“I don’t know how you do anything with those nails,” Weldon said, forking a mountain of dark meat onto his plate. “Seems unsanitary.”

“Dad!” Diana scolded. “Watch your manners.”

“Manners, manners,” Marcus chorused, earning a shush from his mother.

“Oh, I know,” Weldon groused. “If you’re an old white male, nobody wants to hear from you.”

“Like that ever stopped you,” Diana retorted. She sent him an affectionate smile, but her eyes appeared overly bright.

“These mashed potatoes are exquisite, Diana,” Heather said, too loudly. “And the sweet potato casserole is delicious. Thank you for hosting us all, darling.”

“‘Darling,’” muttered Weldon, shaking his head.

At the far end, Ashley and Jason laughed at something Ted said. Lucas and Bayleigh, next to them, seemed also oblivious to the tension simmering on the other side of the room. But Sawyer, Leila and Lou heard. As did Miranda George.

“Mr. Scott,” Miranda said, mildly, “if Sawyer and I can bury the hatchet, maybe you can cut Heather some slack, too, huh?”

“Who are you again?” Weldon asked.

“Dad!” Diana said. “That’s Piper’s mother. Sawyer’s ex-wife.”

“I thought Leila was Piper’s mother,” Weldon said, frowning.

“She’s my other mother,” Piper called from the far end of the table.

“Oh, for—” Weldon began, shaking his head.

“These tamales are great, Emmet,” Bayleigh interrupted, passing the plate to Lucas. “Where did you buy them?”

“Call me Em,” she said. “Diana and I made them here yesterday. It’s kind of a family tradition.”

Heather felt a pang. She’d forgotten about the tamales.

“Tradition is important. Good for you, girlie,” Weldon said, pointing his fork at Em. He looked down at his plate. “What do I do with this thing?”

“Unwrap the corn husks first, Dad,” Diana said with a laugh. “Then top the filling with salsa or sour cream and eat it.”

Weldon opened the tamale as if he was defusing a bomb, but Heather noticed he ate the whole thing. She caught Em’s eye and winked. Em didn’t smile back.

“Mama?” Olivia said, tugging at Diana’s arm.

“Livvie, stop.” Diana scooped her daughter onto her lap.

“Mama,” Livvie said in a stage whisper, “I have to pee.”

“Rand?” Diana said, handing the child to her husband. “I’m a little busy here.”

“No,” Livvie cried. “I want Mama!”

Diana stood up to evade her daughter’s clutching hands. “Go with Daddy, baby.”

“Euwww,” Marcus said, pinching his nose. “Who farted?”

Colt looked down at Festus. “Sorry. I’ll put him in the truck.”

“Festus farted,” Marcus sang.

“Mama!” Livvie yelled. “Marcus said farted!”

“Those little dumpling things aren’t bad,” Weldon said. “Who made them, anyway?”

“Emmet and I did, Dad,” Diana said.

“Emmet?” Weldon said, peering around the table. “Which one is that again?”

“Emmet is my foster daughter, Weldon,” Heather said. “We call her Em.”

“Well, Em,” he said, “they’re not bad. But they’re not really Christmas food, are they?”

“Maybe not for you,” Em said with a tone Heather knew all too well.

She set a warning hand on Em’s thigh, but Em shook it off. “No, I’m tired of this. Diana went to lots of work for this dinner and he’s complaining about it.”

Diana shifted the child on her hip and pointed at Em. “Hey. I can criticize my father. You can’t.”

“Then go ahead,” Em retorted. “What’s the line from Love, Actually ? ‘If you can’t tell the truth at Christmas, when can you?’ Let’s get some truth-telling going.” Then her gaze changed direction. “What do you think, Colt?”

He stood up, his hand on the dog’s collar. “Emmet,” he replied, his cheeks ruddy. “Enough.”

Then Heather recognized what she should have seen earlier, the real reason Em didn’t want to come to Grand. She always felt the loss of her mother especially hard during the holidays and Heather had worked hard to make it special, to keep Jolene’s memory fresh. This year, she’d forgotten.

And then, to further complicate matters, she’d invited Colt. There was something between them, Heather would swear it. Em wouldn’t be so reactive with Colt if she didn’t care for him. But until Colt told her what really happened with Tammy, Em would never be able to forgive him. And Colt wouldn’t betray a confidence.

It seemed like no matter what Heather did, she was hurting someone. The right thing for one kid meant another kid being left out, no matter that they were adults now.

How she ached for these children of her heart. If anyone knew the futility of lost love, it was her. This was the price of secrecy: watching those you want most to protect fall into the same traps you pretended didn’t exist.

The other side of the table had grown quiet. All eyes now looked toward their end and Heather felt the horrible weight of this tension being all her fault. And who else’s could it possibly be? She was at the center of all of this. Everyone here had some kind of connection to her. She should never have come here. She should have known better. Her life as Mel Brezo was uncomplicated, comfortable. These people, her beloved children, had all made lives for themselves without her. They’d accepted not having her in their lives and they were happy. She’d allowed Leila to convince her that they could reunite and heal the past, but that was selfish. The only one suffering from the past was her and she’d chosen, once again, to put her own needs first, to ease the lifelong ache in her heart by tossing a bomb into the lives of the very people she loved most.

She stood up quietly and took her plate to the kitchen. Diana meant well, but perhaps bringing everyone together at once had been a mistake. Part of Heather wanted to flee, to go back to the Yellowstone, pack her things and return to her quiet life in Chinook. But Brade wanted her and JP at his wedding. She couldn’t back out now.

“Heather.”

A gruff voice broke into her thoughts. She clutched the sink, without turning around. “What is it, Weldon?”

He moved to the side of the sink but didn’t speak. Finally, she lifted her head and faced him. To her shock, his mouth was trembling and his gaze was on the floor.

“Weldon,” she said, more softly. “This can’t be easy for you. But Em had no call to criticize you.”

“Ah, Heather.” Weldon shook his head. “I deserved it. I’m a grumpy old coot. Let me own it, for once in my life.”

Maybe Christmas really was the season for truth-telling.

“You deserved a better wife,” she said. “You had no idea the mess you were getting into with me. It was never going to work and I’m so sorry that I hurt you the way I did. Leaving Diana…”

Her throat closed up and she had to stop.

“Maybe,” Weldon began. He cleared his throat and started again. “Maybe, if I’d have helped you search for your baby, the way you wanted me to, none of this would have happened.”

She gave a little laugh. “It would have just turned into another kind of mess. You’d never have been able to accept another man’s child. Let alone three of them.”

In the other room, she could hear conversation starting up again. She hoped that the celebration would recover and that this first Christmas with all four of her biological children together would become a good memory. For Colt and Em to find their place here, maybe even together, was probably too much to ask.

“Brade saved my life, you know,” Weldon said. “Your son. He’s the one you wanted me to help you search for, way back then. The one I wouldn’t accept.”

“I heard about that.” Weldon’s heart attack had occurred around the time Diana was due to deliver Reese. According to Diana, Brade had saved all three of their lives.

“I’m an old codger, Heather,” Weldon said, rubbing his face. “I’m not educated. I don’t know art, like you and Leila do. I don’t have a way with Diana’s kids. I’m barely hanging on to my ranch.” His voice sank to a whisper. “And I’m tired of being angry.”

Almost against her will, she found herself going to him. She put an arm around his bent shoulders. “Are you sure it’s anger you’re feeling? Or do you think it could be fear?”

Ashley came into the kitchen, saw them, grabbed a fresh bag of dinner rolls and dashed out.

Heather looked at her ex-husband. “We did the best we could, Weldon. We made terrible mistakes.” She shrugged. “We know better now. So, we’ll do better now, too. Okay?”

They shared a daughter and grandchildren. Maybe, in time, they could even become friends.

When she returned to the group, she saw Lucas at the front door, helping Bayleigh into her coat.

“You’re leaving?” She touched Bayleigh’s arm. “You okay?”

“She’s supposed to avoid stress,” Lucas said.

“I’m sorry,” Heather said helplessly. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I’m fine,” Bayleigh said. “But there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Anything,” Heather said.

“It might not work, depending on when you go back to Chinook, but I wanted to ask…” She hesitated and looked at Lucas. “We wanted to ask if you’d like to be with us when the baby is born.”

Heather felt her eyes widen. She didn’t know Bayleigh very well, but by the look on her face, she was serious. “Really? That’s a huge honor, Bayleigh. Are you sure?” She glanced at Lucas. “Maybe Lucas’s mom wants to be there, instead?”

“You are Lucas’s mom,” Bayleigh said, smiling. “Think about it this way. I’ve done this before but Lucas hasn’t. He’ll probably need the support.”

“Hey,” Lucas protested. “But yeah, my parents will come once the hard part’s over. I’d love having you there, Heather.”

“If you’re sure…”

“We are,” he insisted, then kissed her on the cheek and led Bayleigh out into the night.

Heather set aside the unexpected invitation and went in search of Em. She found her sitting on the back stoop, hugging her knees. She looked up and gave Heather a watery smile.

“I didn’t mean to ruin Diana’s Christmas dinner.” She sighed. “You know the old Sesame Street song? One of these things doesn’t belong. It’s me. I don’t belong. Even Colt fits in better than I do with this crowd.”

Yes, Colt. Now they were getting somewhere.

“You and Colt have more in common than you think,” Heather said. “Especially right now. But you don’t want to see it. When are you going to trust him again, Em?”

“I don’t know, Hetty.” Em’s voice was low and she didn’t meet Heather’s gaze. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever we had as kids is gone. It’s probably for the best.”

“It’s not gone, Em.”

“Maybe.” She looked up briefly. “There’s…there’s something else.”

Here it came, the thing Em had really been avoiding, the something else that Heather hadn’t been able to put her finger on.

“What?”

Em looked down the street, where snowflakes were sliding lazily to the ground against the streetlights.

“I hate it when you call me your foster daughter.”

Heather blinked, stung. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I won’t say it anymore. I thought… I thought… Never mind. I’ll call you—”

Friend? Daughter of a friend? Ward? What was Em to her?

“Daughter,” Em said. “I wish you’d just say daughter.”