Chapter 17
Tanner
Simon had work to do on the ranch, and I understood that, which is why I didn’t begrudge him when I woke up alone. I still felt the absence of his warmth, the empty space in the bed beside me a reminder that the day was starting without him.
On his pillow, though, was something that made me smile.
A Polaroid photo.
I sat up and grabbed it, studying the image. It showed the coffeemaker in the kitchen with a steaming mug beside it. At the bottom of the photo, in a familiar, distinctive handwriting, were the words: Start here.
My heart rate picked up. This was different from the other gifts. This felt like… a game?
I scrambled out of bed, not even bothering to change out of my pajamas. I just threw on my robe and padded downstairs in my slippers.
The kitchen was empty except for Harlan, who was kneading dough at the counter. He looked up when I entered and gave me a knowing smile.
"Morning, Tanner. Coffee's fresh."
"Thanks," I said, moving toward the coffeemaker. Sure enough, there was a mug waiting for me—my favorite one, already prepared with cream and sugar the way I liked it. And beside it, propped against the sugar bowl, was another Polaroid.
This one showed the reading chair in my room. The chair where I’d found my star blanket, where I'd spent hours curled up with my coloring books.
Something to keep you warm, the caption read.
I looked at Harlan, who was definitely hiding a smile behind his work.
"You know what's going on, don't you?" I asked.
"I might." He dusted flour from his hands. "But I've been sworn to secrecy. Better keep following the trail."
I grabbed my coffee and hurried back upstairs, excitement bubbling in my chest. In my room, I went straight to the reading chair. The star blanket was draped over it as always, but tucked into the folds was another Polaroid.
This photo showed the barn—specifically, Ginger's stall. My breath caught. Was that where this was leading?
She's been waiting for you, the caption said.
But there was one more item with this photo—a small note that read: One more stop before the final destination.
One more? I studied the photo more carefully and noticed something in the background—the tack room door, slightly ajar.
I dressed quickly, pulling on jeans and one of Simon's flannels that I'd claimed as my own. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and headed outside.
The morning was cold but beautiful, the sun glinting off the snow and making everything sparkle. My breath fogged in the air as I made my way to the barn, clutching my coffee mug.
Inside, the barn was warmer, heated by the animals. I could hear Ginger moving in her stall, and Bobby Allen's voice drifting from somewhere deeper in the building.
I went to the tack room first, pushing open the door. The space smelled of leather and oil, familiar and comforting. On the workbench sat another Polaroid.
This one showed an empty stall—not Ginger's, but one of the smaller ones at the end of the barn that we used for storage. Fresh hay was visible in the photo, like someone had prepared it recently.
Your gift is waiting, the caption read simply.
My hands trembled slightly as I set down my coffee mug and picked up the photo. This was it. The last clue. Whatever my Secret Santa had left for me was in that stall.
I walked slowly down the barn aisle, my heart pounding with anticipation. Ginger nickered softly as I passed, and I gave her a quick pat but didn't stop.
The stall door was closed but not latched. I pulled it open and stepped inside.
There, nestled in a bed of fresh hay, was a plush elephant.
But not just any elephant—this one was bigger than my rabbit, made of the softest gray fabric I'd ever felt. It had kind eyes and a gentle smile and floppy ears that looked perfect for holding. Around its neck was a small tag that read: Microwaveable - Lavender scented.
I picked it up with shaking hands. It was heavier than I expected, filled with something that shifted and settled. When I held it close, I could smell the faint scent of lavender.
A heating pad. A comfort item. A friend.
There was a note pinned to its ear:
For when you need extra comfort. Heat him up and let him chase away the cold—inside and out. You deserve soft things, warm things, things that make you feel safe.
Keep letting yourself be small. Keep trusting. You're doing so beautifully.
I sank down into the hay, clutching the elephant to my chest as the tears came. Happy tears. Overwhelmed tears. Grateful tears.
This person—my Secret Santa—they knew me.
Really knew me. Every gift had been so perfectly chosen, so thoughtfully given.
The weighted blanket for when I felt overwhelmed.
The journal for my thoughts. The art supplies for creativity.
The snacks for permission. The pajamas and sippy cup that let me embrace being little.
And now this. This perfect, soft, warm companion that I could heat up when I needed comfort.
I hugged the elephant tighter, burying my face in its soft fur. It smelled like lavender and something that reminded me of the ranch, of home, of safety.
I thought about Simon. About how he'd been taking care of me since the moment I arrived. How he'd given me his clothes and made me breakfast and held me when I cried. How he'd taught me to ride and built a snowman with me and read me bedtime stories.
How he called me "bud" and "sweet boy" and made me feel cherished in ways I'd never experienced before.
Simon was everything I'd ever wanted in a Daddy. Strong but gentle. Firm but understanding. Patient with my fears and encouraging with my growth.
And my Secret Santa was everything I could want in a caregiver too—attentive, thoughtful, generous with both gifts and affection.
I only wished they could be the same person.
The thought hit me like a physical blow. What if I had to choose? What if my Secret Santa was someone else, someone who wanted to be my Daddy, and I had to decide between them and Simon?
I couldn't do it. Wouldn't do it.
Simon was mine. I was his. We'd claimed each other, even if we hadn't said the words out loud yet.
But the guilt gnawed at me. My Secret Santa had put so much thought, so much care, into these gifts. They clearly wanted to be in my life, wanted to take care of me. Was I being unfair by having feelings for Simon while accepting gifts from someone else?
"There you are."
I looked up to find Bobby Allen standing in the stall doorway with a soft smile on his face.
"Sorry," I said, wiping quickly at my eyes. "I was just—"
"No need to explain." He nodded at the elephant. "That's a good gift. Real thoughtful."
"It is." I stroked the elephant's ear. "All the gifts have been thoughtful."
"Your Secret Santa must care about you a lot."
"I guess so." I took a shaky breath. "I just wish I knew who it was."
Bobby Allen leaned against the doorframe. "Why's that? Worried you won't like who it is?"
"No, I—" I struggled to find the words. "I want to thank them. Properly. And I want to know if they… if they expect something from me. Because I'm with Simon now, and I don't want to lead anyone on or hurt anyone's feelings."
Understanding dawned on Bobby Allen's face. "Ah. You think your Secret Santa might want to be more than just your gift-giver."
“Possibly?" I felt my cheeks heat. "These gifts, they're so personal. So specific to what I need as a little. What if they think—"
"Tanner." Bobby Allen's voice was gentle but firm.
"I can't tell you who your Secret Santa is.
That's not my place. But I can tell you this: whoever it is, they're giving you these gifts because they care about you.
Because they want to see you happy. That's all.
There are no strings attached, no expectations. "
"How do you know?"
"Because that's what love looks like on this ranch.
Taking care of each other. Looking out for one another.
Giving without expecting anything in return.
" He pushed off the doorframe. "Now come on.
Bring your new friend and let's get you inside.
It's cold out here, and you're still in house slippers. "
I looked down at my feet and realized he was right. In my excitement, I hadn't even thought to put on proper boots.
I stood, clutching my elephant, and followed Bobby Allen out of the stall. As we walked back toward the main house, I thought about what he'd said.
No strings attached. No expectations.
Maybe I was overthinking this. Maybe my Secret Santa really was just a friend who wanted to take care of me, who wanted to help me embrace this part of myself without asking for anything in return.
And if that was true, then I could accept these gifts with a full heart. Could let myself be grateful without feeling guilty about Simon.
Inside, the house was warm and full of activity. Several of the ranch hands were in the kitchen, grabbing lunch. I spotted Sean at the table, and he waved me over excitedly.
"Is that from your Secret Santa?" he asked, eyeing the elephant.
I nodded, setting it carefully on the chair beside me as I sat down. "Yeah. They made a whole scavenger hunt for me with Polaroid photos."
"That's so romantic!" Sean clasped his hands together. "Oh my gosh, Tanner, your Secret Santa is pulling out all the stops."
"They really are." I ran my hand over the elephant's soft fur. "Every gift has been perfect. Like they can read my mind."
"Or they just pay really good attention," Sean said, echoing what he'd told me before.
Harlan appeared with a plate of food and set it in front of me. "Eat. You ran out of here this morning without breakfast."
"I had coffee," I protested weakly.
"Coffee isn't food." He gave me a look that said he wouldn't take no for an answer. "Eat."
I ate, one hand on my fork and the other resting on the elephant beside me. It was comforting having it close, even though I hadn't heated it up yet. Just knowing it was there, that someone had chosen it specifically for me, made me feel cared for.
After lunch, I took the elephant up to my room and studied the instructions on the tag. You could remove the inner heating pouch and microwave it, then put it back in. The lavender scent would intensify with heat, providing aromatherapy along with warmth.
I decided to save that for tonight. For now, I just wanted to hold it.
I settled into my reading chair with the elephant in my lap and one of my coloring books. This had become my safe space—this chair, with my star blanket and my art supplies and now my new elephant friend.
As I colored, I thought about everything that had happened since I arrived at the ranch. How broken I'd felt that first night. How lost and burned out and desperate for something I couldn't name.
And now? Now I had Simon. I had friends. I had gifts from a Secret Santa who saw me clearly. I had permission to be small, to be cared for, to want things without justifying why I deserved them.
I had everything I'd been missing.
Well, almost everything.
I still wished my Secret Santa could be Simon. Wished that the person who was giving me all these thoughtful gifts and the person who held me at night could be one and the same.
But maybe that was asking too much. Maybe having Simon as my Daddy and having a generous Secret Santa as a friend was enough. More than enough, actually.
I was lucky. So incredibly lucky.
As I finished coloring a particularly intricate flower design, I heard footsteps on the stairs. Heavy, familiar footsteps that made my heart skip.
Simon appeared in the doorway, still in his work clothes and looking tired but happy. His eyes found me immediately, then dropped to the elephant in my lap.
"I see you have something new," he said, coming into the room.
"I do!" I held up the elephant. "There was a whole scavenger hunt with Polaroid photos. It was so fun, Daddy. And look how soft he is!"
Simon came over and ran his hand over the elephant's fur. "Very soft. And he's a heating pad?"
"Yeah, you microwave the inner pouch, and it provides warmth. And it's lavender scented for aromatherapy." I hugged the elephant close. "It's perfect."
"It is," Simon agreed, and something in his voice made me look up at him.
He was watching me with such tenderness, such affection, that it made my breath catch.
"What?" I asked softly.
"Nothing. Just—" He sat on the arm of the chair. "I love seeing you happy. Seeing you let yourself have things that bring you joy."
"You make me happy," I said. "The gifts are amazing, but you—you mean more, Daddy. You know that, right?"
His expression softened even more, if that was possible. "Yeah, bud. I know."
He leaned down and kissed me, soft and sweet, and I melted into it like I always did.
When we pulled apart, I rested my head against his side, still holding my elephant.
"I named him," I said quietly.
"Yeah? What's his name?"
"Peanut." I felt my cheeks heat. "Is that silly?"
"Not even a little bit." Simon's hand came up to stroke my hair. "Peanut is a perfect name."
We sat like that for a while, comfortable in the quiet. And even though I still didn't know who my Secret Santa was, even though part of me wished it could be Simon, I felt content.
I had this moment. This comfort. This joy.