The Cowboy’s Chocolate Covered Christmas (Christmas Kisses & Cookie Crumbs)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

T he wind whipped Ellie’s long, straightened hair into her face as she pulled her jacket tighter around her and thought of winter settling in back home. She had filled out over the last two years since she had left home. Part of it might be settling into womanhood, but the rest of it probably had something to do with her job.

She hugged herself tighter, the sweet scent of that day’s work filling her senses. The wind was vicious and cold, but it didn’t have that magical feeling of snow in the air like it did in her small mountain hometown. A small sigh left her mouth, only to disappear with the next gust.

The sidewalk along the street, with houses large enough to hold entire extended families, was empty on that blustery afternoon. Her heels clicked against the walkway, almost distracting her from the movement at her aunt’s neighbor’s. Old Mrs. Meyers sat at her window, and, as usual, shook her head in disapproval.

Ellie lifted a hand and smiled, letting her jacket whip in the wind, just to see Mrs. Meyers’ shocked expression. A wash of guilt filled her as she turned up the stone pathway to her aunt’s large estate. She shouldn’t antagonize the poor old lady. If she had to live in this stuffy neighborhood with prim ladies looking down their noses at her for her entire life, she’d be just as ornery as old Mrs. Meyers, too.

The wind caught the door as she opened it, and Ellie snatched it before it crashed against the wall. She pushed it shut, hearing the echo and wishing for her four younger sisters, or even her parents’ tired sighs, to fill the emptiness.

“Is that you, Eleanor, dear?” Her aunt’s voice preceded the light click-clack of her heels as she entered the entryway.

“Yes, Auntie Rose, it’s just me. That storm is really gearing up.” She hung up her coat and ran her fingers through her hair to release the tangles. “You ever miss the snow storms in Christmas Tree Hill?”

“Oh, goodness no.” Her aunt waved off the thought as if it was so far-fetched it didn’t even warrant her attention. “Speaking of that tiny scratch in the mountain, that boy called again.”

“Oh, Jim?” Ellie’s heart raced as it always did when she heard from Jim, then sunk in guilt. Even after two years, he hadn’t given up on her. In all rights, he should have started courting Betty Thompkins or even Whitney Moore.

“He still sounds like a lovesick puppy.” Her aunt motioned her to follow her into the parlor, where tea and cakes filled the ornate coffee table. “You sure you aren’t leading that boy on?”

“No, Auntie, of course not.”

“Well, I told him I’d have you telephone him back. I’m sure he really can’t afford the long-distance call.” The casual way her aunt threw out the fact that Jim was poor rankled Ellie, but she sucked back the retort and sat on the stiff sofa where her aunt motioned. “Have some tea and warm up a bit before you call, dear.”

Ellie sipped the tea, quelling the desire to tap her foot or bounce her knee while her aunt regaled her with the morning’s happenings. Over the last two years, Ellie had concluded that the sole occupation of rich housewives was to trade in gossip and look pretty.

“Your uncle says that Mr. Hopkins is still asking about you. That would be a good match, you know? He owns that grocery store chain.”

Ellie sputtered her tea, horror clogging her throat.

“Now, dear, it’s past time you should learn how to sip like a lady.” Auntie Rose handed her a frilly laced edge hankie. “Maybe I’ll invite him over for Christmas dinner again. Wouldn’t that be lovely? Oh, there’s the bell. That must be Mrs. Hayvers. Do clean that up and bring a fresh cup for her, will you?”

Ellie quickly did as she was told and asked to use the phone while her aunt and her friend gossiped about the new wife who moved in three doors down.

Jim picked up on the first ring. “Hello? Is that you, Ellie?”

“Hi, Jim,” Ellie said, biting her lip at the airy way her voice sounded.

“It’s good to hear your voice, Ellie-bird.” She could hear the smile in his words, and a pang of loneliness hit her so fiercely it took her breath away. “Life treating you well out there?”

She drew in a breath, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. “Yeah.” The word came out as a sigh, pretty unconvincingly if she said so herself. “How about you? Still working on the ranch? How is everyone?”

“Always working the ranch. I love it, ya know. It’s good, satisfying work.” He sighed, a sound full of contentment, a sound she had missed. “Everyone’s good, well, mostly at least. It’s one reason I called.”

“What’s going on?” Ellie gripped the phone tight enough that her fingers ached.

“Well, I need your help. It’s Mama…”

“Mama?” Her heart dropped as she immediately brought Jim’s mom into her mind, her soft, all-encompassing hugs, and how she always smelled of sweets. “What’s wrong with Mama?”

“You know how she always judges the Christmas Cookie Bake-Off?” he continued on.

Ellie let out the breath she had been holding. “Goodness, Jim, and here I thought it was something important.”

“Well, it is, Ellie. You see, I need help to make a special cookie for Mama.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “She can’t pick you as the winner. That wouldn’t be fair. We’ve been over this a hundred times.”

“I guess we have, but I don’t want to win. I just want Mama to have a cookie she can eat.”

Ellie’s face contorted as she stared at the flowered wallpaper, trying to understand. “What do you mean, Jim?”

“Well, Mama’s doctor says she has something called Hashimoto’s and celiac disease and wants her on this special diet where she can’t have grains or sugar or dairy anymore. The way I see it, there has to be something we can make for her.”

“Hashimotos and Celiac…this is important, Jim.” Ellie’s mouth went dry and her mind reeled with ideas.

“I told you it was. So, you’ll help me?”

“Of course. My boss is a magician. I’m sure he can help me come up with something.” She pondered the sugar substitutes she knew of and flour alternatives. “I’ll have to research those diseases more, but we’ll figure something out.”

“Does that mean you’ll come home for Christmas?” Hope lined Jim’s voice, but the expectation behind it stuck in her chest.

“I…I don’t know. It’s our busy time at the bakery, you know…”

“Well, I can’t make them without you. I may try, but we all know I can’t bake to save my life.” Jim never pleaded, but today he got about as close as he had to begging her to come home.

The thought of spending Christmas politely beating off Mr. Hopkin’s advances sped up her decision-making. “I’ll ask my boss tomorrow. If it’s at all possible, I’ll be there, Jim.”

The phone crackled when Jim attempted to cover up the receiver as he let out a little hoot. “You sure will be a sight for sore eyes, Ellie. You just let me know when you’re expected to come in, and I’ll pick you up at the bus station.”

Ellie’s heart sped up with the thought of coming home as she realized just how much she had missed the small town with its smiling people and all the Christmas cheer a heart could desire. “Yeah, it sure would be nice to see you too, Jim.”

J im Johnson hefted the last forkful of hay into the stall and spread it around. The smell of a fresh stall filled his nostrils with the scent of hope. Life had given him almost all he could ask for: a great family, a good job where he got to work with his hands, and Ellie was coming back for Christmas.

All he needed now was for her to stay, and he had everything planned out to convince her that she belonged at home with him in Christmas Tree Hill. She loved the holidays, and there was no better place to get your full-on Christmas experience than their small hometown.

He glanced down at the watch his grandpa had given him when he graduated high school and quickly set the pitchfork back in its place on his way out to the arena. Old Buck was waiting for him, impatiently pawing the ground and staring at the sun low in the sky.

“Come on, old boy,” Jim said to the horse, whistling to get him moving quicker. “I’ve got dinner all set for you.”

Buck blew out, his nostrils sniffing the air as if he could smell the grain Jim promised. He plodded toward him, nuzzling into Jim’s shoulder as he made it over.

“That-a-boy. I thought you might be hungry. Long day today, huh?” Jim looped his arm under his neck and guided him to his stall. They had spent the day scouring the mountains for a lost yearling. In the end, they had found him, caught in a bramble of manzanita bushes. Once Jim freed the young steer, he happily followed him and Buck back to the ranch and his other cattle counterparts.

Days like today were long, tough, but full of everything Jim loved about his life on the ranch, working with his hands, solving the multitude of problems that always came up, saving the critters he cared for, and making Mr. Christiansen happy.

Speaking of the old rancher, boots scuffed through the barn door just in time for Jim to shut the gate behind Buck and turn to see his boss. “I see you found the youngster,” he said.

“Sure did, sir. Caught in the north patch of manzanita up on the high pasture. What you think about me clearing some of that out next week?”

“I think you think like a rancher, son.” Mr. Christiansen leaned against the stall at the end, looking at him with a gleam in his eyes.

Jim stood taller, pride warm in his chest. “Thank you, sir.”

“Nah, it’s me who needs to thank you. Without you, there’d be no ranch left. I’m getting old, son.” Mr. Christiansen’s face fell before he lifted his eyes to Jim again. “Our kids want us to move closer to them. I never understood why they moved away in the first place.”

“Me neither, sir. I can’t think of any better place than here.” Jim glanced out the barn door to the land now colored with a glorious sunset. He needed to get home and showered so he could be at the bus stop before Ellie arrived. The last thing he wanted was for her to arrive without him there waiting.

“Today the day?” Mr. Christiansen asked, his eyes twinkling once again.

“Yes, sir, coming in on the six o’clock.” Jim hooked his thumbs on his belt loops, but he knew no matter what he did, he couldn’t hide his eagerness.

“Think she’ll stay this time?” His boss lifted a doubtful eyebrow.

“I’m not sure, sir, but I’ll be doing my best to make sure she wants to.”

“Well, I don’t want to hold you up. Bring her by. Let her see the ranch. You could even take her for a ride. She’d probably do well on Bella.” Mr. Christiansen reached into the stall he had been leaning against to scratch the chestnut mare behind the ears. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Thank you, sir. That’s generous of you.” Jim’s mind ran with the idea of taking Ellie for a ride to find the perfect Christmas tree. This ranch had many groves of firs that were the perfect size, and Ellie did love horses.

Mr. Christiansen waved the comment away. “Nonsense. It’s pure selfishness. We don’t want to lose our best hand.”

“You won’t lose me, sir. I love this ranch as if it was my own.” He said the words, knowing them as truth deep inside.

“I know, son. I do.” Mr. Christiansen’s voice dropped, but then his expression shifted to one of deep thought.

Jim knew that look and expected a long delay in the conversation, but he needed to get a move on, so he shuffled his feet, waiting for his boss to say what he needed before he left.

Mr. Christiansen looked up, his glazed-over eyes blinking. He lifted his hand, then motioned for Jim to leave. “It can wait, son. Go on. Get your girl.”

“Thank you, sir!” Jim called out, giving the old man a pat on the shoulder on his way out the door. “I appreciate it. Tell Mrs. Christiansen to have a good night.”

“Can I tell her we can expect you and your lady for dinner on Sunday night?” his boss asked on his way out.

“Yes, sir. You can count on that.” He waved and jogged off to the cabin behind the paddock, where they let him stay rent-free in exchange for him taking care of the livestock each morning and evening.

After a quick shower and fresh clothes, Jim put on his best boots and cowboy hat and jumped into his truck with fifteen minutes to spare. You never knew when a bus would be early or late, and he didn’t want to take the chance.

Driving the ten miles into town, he rehearsed what he would say, how he would act, and he patted his pocket a half dozen times just to make sure the ring he had bought the moment she said she was returning was still there. He didn’t expect to use it today, but he would not take a chance at not having it on him should the opportunity arise.

He had made her a promise the day she left two years ago. He told her he wouldn’t try to stop her from following her dreams, but he’d be waiting for her, a ring in hand, should she ever decide to return to stay.

Romantic notions of waiting for her on bended knee as she stepped off the bus filled him with fervor, but he knew his gal, and she wouldn’t want that. She had agreed to come back for Christmas to help him, to help Mama. She hadn’t said she was back to stay…it was then, and only then, that he’d pull out the ring.

He parked the truck in front of the General Store. Murphy gave him a wave from the porch. He’d taken over the store after his grandpa retired, a lot to rest on shoulders only a few years older than his, but that’s how things went in small towns. That’s how he liked it.

If his parents had had a business ready to hand over to him, he’d take it too. As it was, they felt blessed that his dad had held a job at the mill for the last thirty years. A good job with a good retirement as soon as his old man was ready to call it quits.

He had thought to follow in his father’s footsteps like his older brother, but when Mr. Christiansen offered him a full-time job after graduation, he jumped at the opportunity. Summers spent working on the ranch were his favorite times, and now he lived his dream of working with his hands and the horses on the ranch.

He kept himself busy thinking of how life had a way of always aligning for the best. When the headlights of the bus popped over the rise, he wiped his hands on his jeans. From the front seat of his truck, he pulled out the Christmas cactus he had been babying for the past year, situated his hat, and waited only feet away from where the bus would stop.