Hope for Christmas (Hope Ranch Book 1) Page 3

  Wayne smiled and started to lever himself up. “I’ll get you a Bible.”

  “Got one.” Cyan held up his phone. “Why don’t I get some coffee for us, first? How do you take it?”

  “Just black is fine, but if you need creamer there should be some in the fridge. And there’s sugar in a bowl on the counter. Your grandmother likes hers all done up.”

  He was with his grandmother, then. He’d never understood people who could drink black coffee. The pot was still in the final stages of brewing, so Cyan opened cupboards until he found mugs and a spoon then went to collect the creamer and chuckled. Betsy must like flavored creamer, too. He grabbed the bottle of gingerbread latte creamer and sniffed it. Oh, yeah. And he wasn’t going to need sugar after adding this.

  With the coffee in hand, he shuffled back to his chair.

  “Thanks.” Wayne took a long sip and then sighed. “Nothing like that first taste, is there?”

  Cyan drank from his own mug. Maybe he’d added a tad too much gingerbread, but it was still good. “Nope.”

  “So. You have a Bible on your phone. You reading it?”

  Cyan lifted his shoulders and worked to ignore the itch that was forming between them. It was like being in college all over again, when the professors just seemed to know who was doing the work and who was coasting. “Some.”

  “Where’d you start?”

  Was he supposed to remember? Cyan swiped on his phone and opened the app, then tapped the icon that took him to the plan he was working through. “Um. Mark? Now I’m in John.”

  Wayne nodded. “Learning anything?”

  “I guess.” How did he put it into words? “I like reading about the miracles they say Jesus did. He seems like a good guy who got a bad rap.”

  “But just a man?”

  Cyan sighed. “I guess I’m tripping over that, a little. I mean, if Jesus was God—first you have to say, okay, there’s a God, right? So then you have God and Jesus and the Spirit—is that three gods? Except it says they’re one, and that’s weird. And then why would God send Jesus here to be a man just so he could die? That seems stupid. He’s God. He should just smite the people who don’t believe. It’s all kind of elaborate, isn’t it? Why would God bother with wanting people to choose to believe? Just get rid of the ones who don’t so people realize there’s no point in not.”

  “You’d like to be forced into it, then? No choice?”

  “Well, no. From here, at least, no. But if I didn’t know any different, would it matter?”

  Wayne laughed. “All right, I guess that’s fair. Here’s the thing. God didn’t make people into worship robots. He didn’t want that. He wanted a relationship. That doesn’t come from force.”

  A relationship. With God. “Still kind of a lopsided relationship, isn’t it? I mean, I like my boss well enough, but I know we can’t really be friends—not true friends—because he’s my boss. We’re not equals.”

  “But your boss doesn’t love you unconditionally, either. He’s looking for something from you—customer satisfaction, a certain number of hours of work each day, that sort of thing. There’s a reason we use family terms, like father, to refer to God. It’s hard, sometimes, when our fathers let us down, to see that God is the one father who will never fail.” Wayne looked away, staring into the unlit fireplace.

  Father. Cyan loved his dad. Even mostly liked him. But he hadn’t been excited about hanging around any longer than he absolutely had to. As soon as he’d graduated from high school, he’d been off that bus and on his own. He checked in with them now and then, but never really felt like they cared one way or the other.

  “Keep reading, Cyan, with an open heart, if you can. I’d love nothing more than to see you find faith in Jesus.” Wayne flipped open his Bible and started to read.

  Cyan sipped his coffee and stared at his phone. Finally, he tapped the next suggested reading and his eyes traveled down the screen, stopping at the words that seemed to leap out at him. For God so loved the world, that He gave his one and only son, that whosoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

  What kind of love must that take? He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it.

  * * *

  “Can I fix you something for breakfast?” Betsy glanced over from where she was filling her coffee cup in the kitchen. “Maria doesn’t usually come over until after she gets Calvin on the school bus.”

  “The bus comes up here?” They weren’t in the middle of nowhere, exactly, but the ranch was a ranch, which meant it wasn’t in the center of town, either.

  Betsy laughed. “Sure does. Picks him up at the top of the road, by the big sign. Several of the other places up this way have school-aged kids too. Food?”

  “Sure. But only if you’re fixing something for yourself. I can manage on my own.”

  “I know you can, but I didn’t get the chance to spoil you when you were younger. Seems like the least I can do is make you some pancakes now.”

  “I won’t say no to pancakes. Thanks. Can I help?”

  Betsy shook her head. “Nope. But you can come sit up here at the bar and keep me company.”

  That was easy enough. Cyan stood and stretched before moving seats. Once Betsy was up, Wayne had left to shower. Had they agreed to give each other time alone with him? Was that for them or were they trying not to overwhelm him? Either way, it was sweet. He set his empty mug on the counter next to his phone and propped his chin in his hands.

  “Can I get you a refill?”

  “I’ve had two.”

  “Live on the edge, have a third.” She reached for the mug and smiled. “I see creamer in there.”

  Heat warmed his cheeks. “I’m a sucker for the flavored ones.”

  “That’s my boy.” Betsy fixed him coffee and set it in front of him before crossing the kitchen to collect things out of the pantry. “So, what have you been up to this morning?”

  “Checking some work email, talking with Wayne.” He shrugged. It was easier—better—to keep it vague. He wasn’t ready for another conversation about God right now.

  “Work have anything interesting to say? Seems to me everyone would be on vacation this week if they could be.”

  “You’d think, right? My boss seems to only ever take off the week between Christmas and New Year’s. So he’s still shooting out messages left and right. I’m going to give him a call in a little bit. I think maybe he got something confused.”

  “Oh?” She measured flour into a bowl and glanced over at him, eyebrows lifted.

  “Yeah.” Cyan frowned and pulled up the email again. “He’s saying they want me on site at one of our customers’ main office in New York City starting in January.”

  “I’ve always wanted to visit New York City. It seems like it’d be a unique experience.” She cracked an egg into the bowl and began to mix. “Why would that not be intended for you?”

  “Lots of reasons. First is that he’s talking six months to a year. He knows I don’t do big cities except for short—one or two days max—visits. I can’t seem to breathe when I’m there. Tried it, early on, and was sicker than I’ve ever been. Plus, the job I have is flexible work location. Six months to a year? That’s practically permanent. I need to understand what he’s trying to do.” Cyan rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t opposed to working on just one customer account if that was what they needed, but it wasn’t going to be one in New York City.

  “Then I guess it’s a good idea to call. What if he says it wasn’t misdirected? Will you go?” She tapped the whisk against the side of the bowl before setting it in the sink and reaching for one of the pans that hung on a rack above.

  “I don’t know. I’m kind of hoping I don’t have to figure that out.”

  Betsy smiled. “Then I’ll pray that you get clear direction.”

  He chuckled. “That’s something Azure would say.”

  “Is it? I wish she could’ve stayed longer, but it sounded like she needed to get back to Virginia to str
aighten things out with her young man.”

  Cyan winced. He wasn’t used to thinking of his sister having someone serious in her life. From their brief conversations and text, this Matt guy was pretty serious. “Yeah. I—”

  The kitchen door flew open and slammed against the wall as Maria, wearing the same clothes she’d worn the day before, albeit considerably more rumpled, hurried in. Her hair looked like she’d combed fingers through it, barely, and there was a fuzzy haze of panic clinging to her. “Where’s Wayne?”

  “I don’t know, dear. I can—”

  Maria cut Betsy off, her gaze arrowing to Cyan. “Can you come? I need help getting Calvin into the car.”

  “Did he miss the bus?” Cyan set down his coffee and stood, tucking his phone into his pocket.

  “No. Something’s wrong. He’s not getting out of bed. He was up and down all night in the bathroom. I’m taking him to urgent care. Maybe it’s just a cold and they won’t be able to do something, but I can’t seem to let it go. So I’ll suck up the co-pay for peace of mind.”

  “Let me get my coat. I’ll come with you.” Cyan glanced at Betsy. “Sorry about the pancakes.”

  “Don’t you worry about that. I’ll put the batter in the fridge and we’ll have them later. You go with Maria.”

  “No. I just need—” Maria broke off at Betsy’s glare and nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

  Cyan hurried to the guest bedroom he was using. He shoved his feet into sneakers and grabbed his coat. It’d be better if he had boots—the snow was starting to stick to everything—but he could only do what he could do. Jogging back to the kitchen, he paused to kiss his grandmother’s cheek before he nodded at Maria. “Lead the way.”

  Her gaze flitted to his shoes. “Your feet are going to get wet.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve had worse. I’ll be okay.”

  “All right. Thanks.” Maria twisted her fingers together as she hurried between the main house and her cabin. “He’s usually bouncy. Hops out of bed talking a million miles an hour and races me to the bus stop. That’s been easing off some, lately, but I figured maybe it was because he was finally listening when I told him I needed time to wake up. But now...what if I’ve missed something?”

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Cyan wasn’t sure of that at all, but it seemed like the right thing to say. He glanced at the kitchen on his way through to the bedrooms, noting the plate set out with eggs and toast. He smiled a little. Must be nice to wake up to that every morning. His mother had never been one for breakfast. If anything, they’d had a box of cereal shoved at them, but usually it was a vague hand gesture toward where the food was kept.

  Calvin lay in the top bunk of rustic wooden bunk beds, wearing fuzzy pajamas that had space ships all over them. “I’m coming, Mom.”

  “Oh, honey. Can you sit up so Mr. Hewitt can get you down?”

  “Hey, buddy, ready for another ride?” Cyan reached up and awkwardly helped Calvin wiggle to the ladder where he could be scooped up without the rail getting in the way. “Up we go.”

  “Gotta pee.”

  Cyan chuckled. “We’ll make a pit stop on the way. You want to grab some socks and shoes so his feet don’t get cold?”

  Maria nodded.

  Cyan carried the boy into the hall and set him down gently by the bathroom. “Got it?”

  “Yeah.” He took a couple of stumbling, shuffling steps into the small room.

  Cyan turned away and studied the photos of Calvin—sometimes with Maria, but more often with a horse—hanging in the hallway.

  “Can you make it to the couch, baby?” Maria’s voice was close.

  Cyan turned.

  Calvin blinked, frowning, and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah. I’m okay, Mom.”

  “Uh huh. Let’s get socks and shoes on and go from there.” She turned, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “Maybe I don’t need—”

  “Let me help you. Please? Even if he can get around on his own, I’d like to know I was there if you did need me.” Cyan had probably never uttered more heartfelt words. The question was why, when he’d known someone for so short a time, did he feel that way? He wasn’t prone to the need to rescue damsels. In fact, generally, he believed women were more than capable of slaying whatever dragons got in their way all on their own. But something about Maria and her son tugged at him. So he was going to see it through, if she’d let him.

  Her voice was grudging. “Yeah. All right.”

  He followed her down the short hallway, trying not to notice—or at least not focus on—the snug fit of her jeans. It was entirely inappropriate. And entirely too eye catching.

  Calvin sat on the couch slowly dragging socks over his feet. His face was pulled down into a pout. “I don’t wanna go to the doctor.”

  Maria smiled and handed him a boot. “I don’t blame you. We’re still going.”

  “I’m gonna miss the party at school. Sancho said his mom was bringing cupcakes.”

  “We’ll make cupcakes this weekend, okay? Or maybe the first batch of Christmas cookies? You can try out the rocket shaped cookie cutters we got last year.”

  Calvin frowned.

  “Do you put sprinkles on them?” Cyan perched on the arm of the couch and tried to catch Calvin’s eyes. “Or that sugar that has the big crystals so it’s crunchy on top?”

  Calvin nodded. “I like that kind.”

  “It’s even better if you frost the cookie first and then add the sugar.”

  “Yeah?” Calvin got his second boot on and looked at his mom. “Can we do that?”

  “I’ll have to see if we have enough powdered sugar to make icing. Maybe after the doctor, we can swing by the store and get another bag just to be sure. Come on now, up and let’s get your coat on.”

  Between Cyan and Maria, they got Calvin out the door and buckled in the back seat of Maria’s car.

  “You really don’t have to come.”

  “I know. I want to.” Cyan tugged open the passenger door and climbed in.

  “Suit yourself.” Maria sighed and got behind the wheel. She glanced into the rearview mirror and frowned.

  Cyan turned to look. Calvin appeared to have fallen back asleep.

  4

  Maria prayed under her breath the whole way into town. They weren’t all for Calvin, the snow was making the roads slick and some of the turns on the hill were iffy. The road crews were clearly hard at work, but these conditions always made her a little nervous. The man sitting in the passenger seat wasn’t helping that situation. He was too handsome for his own good with that slightly too-long brown hair that curled over his collar and the gray eyes that seemed to look directly into her soul.

  Fishtailing slightly, she turned into the parking lot of the urgent care and parked. She looked into the backseat and frowned. “Calvin, honey? Wake up.”

  “Why don’t I just carry him?” Cyan hit the button on his seatbelt and pushed open the car door. “I suspect that’ll wake him, but it’s easier than getting him to walk.”

  “Okay. Thank you. Again.”

  A hint of dimples flashed as he smiled. “You’ve gotta stop saying that. It’s my privilege.”

  Privilege? Maria barely managed not to snort. If he felt honored to help carry a sick kid to urgent care, he needed to get a life. When all the car doors were shut, she hit the lock button on her key fob and picked her way across the semi-cleared sidewalk to the main door. She held it open while Cyan angled Calvin through.

  They had the heat up way too high. Doctors always seemed to do that, as if people were going to be coming in wearing shorts and T-shirts while it was snowing outside. Sweat beaded on Maria’s back as she walked to the reception desk and explained the problem.

  Carrying a clipboard with forms, she headed to the seats Cyan and Calvin had staked out. There were three other people in the waiting area. Hopefully this wouldn’t take too long. She could appease her overactive mom-worrying-gene and get back to the ranch. There was a lot of prep for Thanksgiving that need
ed to be done still. And after that, Christmas was going to be in full swing. With all the new snow, it wouldn’t surprise her if Wayne wanted to get the sleigh out for their trip into the forest for Christmas trees on Friday.

  She glanced over at Cyan as she reached the bottom of the first form and frowned. “What’s that?”

  Cyan tilted his phone away from Calvin. “It’s a little strategy game. Think Risk with aliens. Is that okay? I should’ve asked. Sorry.”

  She eyed the screen. He was right, he should’ve asked. Generally, she tried to keep video games to a bare minimum. They couldn’t afford the gaming console Calvin desperately wanted. Even if they could, she wasn’t sold on him getting online with friends to shoot aliens. Shooting anything seemed like a bad idea for a kid his age. Except, of course, that Tommy and Morgan generally took Calvin out to fire .22s with them at least twice over summer break. So it wasn’t as if he didn’t understand guns. She sighed. “Seems okay. No language?”

  Cyan shook his head. “Nothing but music. And captions. But the words just say who’s attacking who. No trash talk.”

  “All right. Thanks.” She flipped the form over and paused to dig in her purse for her insurance card. Not that insurance would pay for the visit. Wayne and Betsy offered as many insurance options as they could, but the pickings were slim. High deductibles were the name of the game. That and prayer. Lots and lots of prayer that no one got seriously ill. Her gaze darted to her son, who was tapping raptly at Cyan’s phone, seeming almost normal. Was this a big waste of time and money?

  Cyan leaned closer, his voice low. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Of course.” No need to bother him with the worries of where any of the money was going to come from. She hurried through the rest of the forms and walked them back up to the desk.

  A nurse poked her head through the door that opened into the waiting area. “Calvin?”

  Maria frowned slightly but stood. Shouldn’t they have taken people in the order they got there? She glanced over at the others in the waiting room and offered an apologetic smile. “Come on, Cal.”