Chapter 9
Callie
I follow Mary into the warm house with its cozy, crackling fireplaces and bright twinkling lights everywhere. “I think Danny is tuckered out. I’m going to put him to bed.”
In my room, I settle Danny with a bottle, singing soft lullabies. As I do, I remember on the plane when Nate kept singing him the same songs again and again. He’d be an amazing dad, nothing like Corey. He’s the type of man who would love and accept his child no matter what.
When Danny finally drifts to sleep, I place him in the crib and turn on the baby monitor. I carry the other one with me into the formal dining room, my fuzzy socks gliding easily against the worn hardwood floors.
There’s a woman I don’t recognize at the table. She’s dressed in a retro pinup dress with her long, black hair scooped into a messy ponytail. She’s frowning down at the craft supplies as though she’s the big green monster on the hill, already dreading the noise of Christmas.
Mary gestured toward the other woman. “Callie, come meet Ginger. She’s planning the party, the one in the community center.”
The oven dings in the kitchen, and Mary breaks into a smile. “Those are my Christmas cupcakes. I’ll be right back. I’ll grab more glitter and glue.”
I watch Mary hurry from the room and take a seat at the table in time to hear Ginger mutter under her breath, “Oh, goodie. More glitter.”
“Are you OK? You don’t seem all that thrilled to be here.” I survey the pile of crafting supplies that are spread out. It appears Mary is creating resin molds and coloring them. One she’s made to look like a Christmas tree is inside and another one appears to be the start of a reindeer.
Ginger sighs. “I’m just missing my dad.”
I grab a mold and fill it with resin, purposely not looking at her. “Are you sure that’s all? Because it seems like something is troubling you.”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine.”
I swallow hard, acknowledging the real reason I’m here at the Naughty List Ranch. “Sometimes, the holidays make me think of how alone I am.”
“Really, I’m fine.” She answers so quietly that it still makes me think my secret is her secret too. That the loneliness we can normally ignore during the rest of the year isn’t so easy to ignore during what should be the happiest season of all.
“I lost my parents a few years ago, and some days, all the cheerfulness gets to me. It feels like there’s no space for grief, and I just need a good cry.
” The pressure to be happy during Christmas is hard.
You want to smile at all the right moments and be there for loved ones, but you also ache.
You ache for dreams unmet and loved ones gone and happier seasons when you were still innocent to everything but the wonder of the day.
“It’s just my dad and me, but we’re good,” Ginger insists in a small voice.
I lean over and squeeze her hand even though she’s a stranger. But she doesn’t feel like a stranger. She feels like a long-lost friend I didn’t even know I was looking for. “Well, I feel it even more now that I’m a mom myself. I heard you had a run in with Dallas at the post office.”
Ginger blushes and frowns, muttering something I don’t quite catch.
I can’t help teasing her. “Are you hoping to find out if his stocking is hung?”
Her blush deepens, but she doesn’t say anything else.
Angel, the barista from the Mistletoe Mug, bustles into the room with a drink carrier. She sets one down in front of me and beams. “Gingerbread latte for you.” Then she passes a drink to Ginger and sets one down for Mary before taking a sip of her own.
She produces a box and sets it in the center of the table. It’s filled with Mistletoe Mug’s peppermint bark. It’s been sold out every time I’ve been there so I’m extra excited to try it now. “What are we talking about?”
“Stockings,” Ginger and I say at the same time before I burst into giggles.
Mary hurries into the room with more glitter, glue, and resin than we could possibly use in fifteen Christmas seasons.
Angel narrows her gaze at us, but her tone is playful, “Keep your secrets for now. I have ways of finding things out.”
Mary shakes her head, clearly delighted just to have girls around her. I bet she hasn’t gotten much girl talk over the years, so I do my best to keep the conversation going as we work late into the night.
The next morning, I gather Danny and head to the Mistletoe Mug.
I want to catch up with Angel before her shop opens.
A snowstorm is forecasted to be on the way, but you wouldn’t know it by the bright skies and beautiful snow on the ground.
It’s early so the roads are still freshly powdered, not yet turned into the slushy gray mix that happens as the day wears on.
I tap at the coffee shop window, and Angel is quick to hurry over. She unlocks the door and lets us in along with a gust of wind. The bell above the door chirps cheerfully as if it’s glad to see us too.
“Hey, you,” she says with a smile. “You’re up and about early.”
“This little one had me awake at five a.m., wanting to play,” I explain with a kiss on his forehead.
“Well, come in out of the cold.” She ushers us inside and turns the sign to closed. She doesn’t open for another hour, which is why I wanted to hurry in for some girl talk.
Danny makes a squeal of delight as he takes in the twinkling Christmas lights and the tinsel around the picture frames. Everything about the holidays is still exciting to him. I hope he never loses that sense of wonder.
Ginger grabs a blanket from the shelf behind the register and spreads it over the big armchair by the radiator. “Sit, snuggle, and I’ll bring you something sweet.”
“Angel by name, angel by nature,” I sigh, settling in and shifting Danny into a cozy nest of fleece. He wiggles and chirps, batting at the air like he’s got stories to tell. “Mary told me you had a little... ladder incident?”
She holds up her ankle, wrapped in a compression bandage. “Tried to hang a star. The star fought back.”
“I also heard Grady swooped in like a Hallmark hero,” I can’t resist teasing her.
The things that Mary always knows. She acts so innocent, but she has her finger on the pulse of this town.
I doubt a snowflake falls without her knowledge or permission.
She’s a beautiful force of nature. The idea that women become frail with age is nothing but a myth.
No, with age, we become more formidable.
She rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the blush that stains her cheeks. “He helped me get home, did some repairs.”
Danny babbles and points at the specials board like he’s got strong opinions about the eggnog latte. My heart leaps to see him engaging with the world around him. For so long, I worried that he would be lost inside of himself, unable to communicate. But his latest milestone is giving me hope.
“He’s so chatty today,” she says, joining me with two mugs of gingerbread latte and a plate of peppermint bark.
A surge of pride goes through me. I’m sure it shows on my face. I’m so proud of my strong boy. He’s not letting anything hold him back. “This morning, he figured out how to wave. He’s been greeting everything since—windows, trees, our toaster.”
She leans forward to wave at him. He flaps both arms back at her, giggling the entire time. His laugh is so innocent, so pure. I want it to always stay like that. I want to bubble wrap his heart and put a sign over it, warning the world to be gentle with the most precious gift I’ve ever been given.
“How’s he doing?” she asks softly.
She understands that Danny’s milestones come with extra appointments and celebration. There are therapies, checkups, and a little more planning, but also a lot more cheering when he masters something new.
I take a sip of my latte, letting the flavors slide over my tongue and the sweet drink warm me from the inside out.
“He’s doing great. He’s stubborn in the best way. He won’t let you put him down if he’s decided you’re his person. He’s terrible at napping but laughs like an angel.”
He giggles again, as if he knows I’ve been talking about him.
“How are you managing? Working at the ranch?” She presses. She thinks I’m Wonder Woman without the lasso. But I’m something far more powerful. I’m the mama of a complex needs child.
I shrug. “Some days are chaos. Some days I can’t imagine my life without him. Mostly, he’s just...Danny. Loud, sticky, and perfect.”
She reaches over and brushes his hand. He grabs her finger like it’s the best thing he’s ever been offered and holds on, eyes serious for a half-second before breaking into another delighted squeal.
“He likes you. You have the Danny seal of approval,” I say, thinking of how Danny’s eyes always light up every time Nate comes into the room. I’m pretty sure he does too.
“That’s good because I like him too,” she replies.
We sip our drinks in comfortable silence until I remember the whole reason I came over here. I wanted to get the inside scoop about Grady. “So… are you going to tell me what really happened after Grady ‘helped you get home’?”
She groans. “Fine. He carried me up the stairs.”
“Like bridal-style carried?” I think of the gruff cowboy I saw talking with Nate. He looked so strong and fierce. He must be soft only for her, only with her.
“He offered. I said no. He grunted ‘I want to.’ And then he just... did it,” she sounds bewildered by the whole experience, like she’s still trying to make sense of everything that’s happening between her and Grady.
“Well, damn.” I take a sip of my latte and wait for her to go on.
She keeps her gaze on her mug. “He’s steady. And a bit grumpy, but he makes me feel a certain way.”
“You like him.”
“Yeah, I do,” she says quietly.
I can’t help smiling. “So... funny thing.”
“What?” She asks as if she didn’t see us on our date before we headed to the Tacky Light Show. Then again, the shop was pretty busy. Maybe she wasn’t paying attention to me and Nate at all. “I may have developed feelings for someone too. Nate.”
She blinks, and yep, she must have been busy in the back when the barista was taking our orders. “Who’s he?”
“One of Mary and Christopher’s boys, from back when they were fostering,” I explain.
She sounds excited by this bit of gossip. “Does Mary know?”
“Nothing gets past Mary. I’m sure she’s placing bets with Christopher as we speak,” I admit, bouncing Danny on my knees when he points to a wreath on the wall.
She laughs then pauses. “Wait. Nate and Grady were both—”
“Naughty List Ranch boys,” I confirm with a smirk. We stare at each other for a second, then say at the same time, “Oh, no.”
Only to follow it up with, “Oh yes.”
Her grin grows even bigger. “What are the odds?”
I lean back in my comfy chair, still amazed at how this holiday season is quickly becoming one of my favorites. “We moved to this town to bake and brew and mind our business…”
She raises her mug. “To surprises we didn’t see coming.”
Danny lets out a happy squeal that feels like agreement.
I clink mine to hers. “And to falling for the good ones.”
“I never said I was falling,” she objects, even though it’s clear from her expression that we both know the words are a lie.
I can’t help snorting at her denial. “Girl, he fixed your door and checked your windows. He might as well have proposed.”