Chapter 8
Monday morning began with cold air, stubborn cattle, and coffee Mark had poured before sunrise but forgotten to drink until it was barely warm.
By the time he and Thomas finished checking the north pasture at Shooting Star Canyon Ranch, repairing a bent section of fence, and loading hay for one of the lower winter lots, Mark was more interested in lunch than conversation.
Unfortunately, Thomas had never considered silence a requirement for ranch work, not when he was working with one of his siblings.
Thomas swung down from the truck near the main barn and pulled off his gloves. “Are you heading into town later?”
Mark grabbed the receipt from the dashboard and tucked it into his shirt pocket. “Hardware store. One of the gate latches finally gave up.”
Thomas leaned against the truck door. “If you end up near Winter Wishes, tell Natalie that Rebecca found those extension cords she borrowed after last year’s festival.”
Mark stopped beside the tailgate and looked at him. “You can tell her.”
“I could,” Thomas said, smiling like a man enjoying himself too much, “but you’ll probably see Natalie first.”
“I probably won’t.”
“You repaired her display yesterday.”
Mark almost groaned. Word traveled fast around Shooting Star Canyon, even faster than he thought.
“That doesn’t mean I’m making social calls,” Mark said.
“No, but it means you know where the shop is.”
Mark shut the tailgate with more force than necessary. “Everybody knows where the shop is.”
Thomas laughed and headed toward the barn. “Sure. Tell her about the extension cords if you happen to accidentally walk past her front door.”
Mark watched him go, annoyed mainly because arguing further would only make Thomas more entertained.
As it was, he had spent half of Sunday hearing odd little comments about Natalie Winters, most of them delivered with smiles that looked innocent only if a person had never lived in Shooting Star Canyon.
Clearly, the rumor had reached the ranch.
Instead of correcting Thomas, Mark put his head down and got to work.
By late morning, Mark drove into town with the gate latch on the seat beside him and a short list in his pocket.
The hardware store was busier than usual, every other customer carrying replacement bulbs, extension cords, outdoor hooks, or enough zip ties to secure decorations through a Texas windstorm.
Mark found the brackets he needed and had almost made it to the register when Mr. Wallace stepped into the aisle carrying a box of lights.
“Mark Clemons, I heard you saved Winter Wishes,” Mr. Wallace said, shifting the box under one arm.
Mark reached for a pack of screws from the shelf. “I replaced a broken brace.”
Mr. Wallace chuckled. “That’s not how Mrs. Barlow told it.”
“That’s exactly why a man shouldn’t get his news from Mrs. Barlow.”
“She said you spent half the afternoon helping Natalie put things right.”
“I spent half the afternoon keeping a wooden sleigh from landing in the street.”
“Sounds useful.” Mr. Wallace gave him a look over the top of his glasses. “A woman appreciates a man who’s useful.”
Mark set the screws in his basket and stared at him. “We’re talking about a Christmas display.”
“I’m sure you are.” Mr. Wallace moved toward the register, still smiling. “Tell Natalie I said hello.”
Mark paid for his supplies and left before anyone else could assign him messenger duties for a woman he was not courting.
At the feed store, the situation got worse. Mrs. Hernandez stood near the counter comparing two bags of dog treats when Mark walked in, and the moment she saw him, her face brightened with the kind of interest no man with sense trusted in December.
“Good afternoon, Mark,” Mrs. Hernandez said as he reached for the mineral supplement he needed.
“Afternoon, ma’am.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
Mark braced himself because he had known Mrs. Hernandez his whole life, and questions that began that way were rarely about feed prices. “Yes, ma’am?”
She lowered her voice as if the cashier two feet away could not hear every word. “Does Natalie prefer peppermint bark or chocolate-covered pretzels? I thought I’d drop something by the shop this week.”
Mark blinked. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Hernandez looked honestly disappointed. “I assumed you might.”
The cashier coughed into his hand.
Mark set the supplement on the counter with deliberate care. “I repaired one display.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Hernandez patted his arm as if humoring him. “That was very kind of you.”
By the time he escaped with his purchase, Mark had decided Mrs. Barlow was a menace, small-town gossip traveled faster than cell service, and Natalie Winters had somehow become the safest subject in town and the most dangerous one all at once.
He returned to the ranch just after noon. Mark carried the feed store bag toward the maintenance shop.
His mother stood just outside the office talking with Mrs. Whitley, a clipboard tucked beneath one arm as the two women talked in earnest.
When they spotted him, Mrs. Whitley smiled. “Did you find everything?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Perfect.”
His mother smiled knowingly.
Uh-oh. He knew that look.
But all she did was go right back to discussing volunteer schedules with Mrs. Whitley.
Mark waved to them and then headed to the break room.
Lunch had already started. Thomas sat at the end of the battered table with a sandwich in one hand and a weather report open on his phone.
James had claimed the last clean fork from the drawer even though he was eating chili from a paper bowl, and Samuel had lined up three different hot sauces beside his lunch as if conducting a formal test. Mark was amused that only his siblings were here.
There wasn’t really a set lunchtime at the ranch.
Cowboys and cowgirls ate whenever they found a few free minutes.
Thomas glanced up when Mark walked in. “Did you find the latch?”
“Brackets, screws, and mineral supplement.” Mark set the feed store bag on the counter and washed his hands at the small sink. “Productive trip.”
James looked toward the bag. “Anything exciting happen in town?”
Mark dried his hands on a paper towel. “I bought hardware.”
“Anything else?”
“Not really.”
Samuel picked up one hot sauce bottle and studied the label. “Mrs. Barlow was at the bakery when I drove past.”
Thomas groaned. “Then something exciting definitely happened in town.”
Mark opened the refrigerator and pulled out the lunch he had packed that morning. “Mrs. Barlow talks whether something happened or not.”
“True,” James said as he pointed his fork at Mark, “but yesterday something did happen.”
“I fixed a display.”
“You fixed Natalie’s display,” Thomas said, still looking at the weather report. “Important distinction.”
Mark sat down and opened his container. “Not sure how that’s a big deal.”
Samuel added a few drops of hot sauce to his chili, tasted it, and shook his head. “Too much vinegar.”
James ignored him. “I heard Mrs. Hernandez asked whether Natalie likes peppermint bark.”
Mark groaned. “She asked whether Natalie preferred peppermint bark or chocolate-covered pretzels,” he clarified despite wondering why he bothered.
Thomas looked up, suddenly interested. “What’d you say?”
“I said I didn’t know.”
James leaned back, grinning. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
“I wasn’t aware there was a right answer.”
“There are several right answers,” James said. “A man with sense says, ‘She likes both.’ Then everybody thinks you’re thoughtful and Mrs. Hernandez makes both.”
Samuel nodded once. “Useful.”
Mark stared at him. “You have thoughts on this too?”
“Food is involved.”
Thomas laughed and finally set his phone down. “Samuel’s practical when dessert enters the conversation.”
The break room door opened before Mark could answer, and Julia stepped inside carrying a cardboard box stacked with folded flyers. “Good. You’re all here.”
James immediately looked wary. “That sentence has never ended well.”
“It ends with you taking flyers to the tack room, the office, the feed store, and the church bulletin board.” Julia set the box on the counter and glanced at Mark. “Oh, and Winter Wishes.”
Mark closed his eyes briefly.
Thomas coughed into his fist.
Julia’s brows lifted. “What?”
“Nothing,” James said far too quickly.
Julia looked from James to Thomas to Samuel before her gaze landed on Mark with terrifying accuracy. “What did I miss?”
“Apparently I repaired a display and accidentally started a town investigation,” Mark said.
Julia brightened instantly. “Natalie’s display?”
“Yes.”
“I like her.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“I’m allowed to offer my opinion.” Julia reached into the box and handed him a small stack of flyers. “Take these to her.”
“Why me?”
“Because you already know where the shop is.”
James grinned. “Everybody knows where the shop is.”
Thomas nodded solemnly. “True, but Mark knows where the support braces are.”
Mark gave both of them a flat look while Samuel quietly slid the flyers closer to him.
“Not you too,” Mark said.
Samuel shrugged. “I’m not about to argue with the rest of them.”
The room broke into laughter, and Mark let the sound roll around him while he took a bite of his sandwich.
A few years ago, teasing like this would have sharpened quickly.
Someone would have mentioned Jenna. Someone would have asked whether Mark planned to bring a date to the Christmas dance or whether he was finally ready to let his mother introduce him to someone.
Today, the jokes stayed light. Natalie was a new subject, apparently, and because everyone thought the subject meant progress, nobody handled him like a man one wrong word away from bruising.
That was the strangest part. It did not feel bad. It annoyed him at least in theory, but there was a difference between irritation and the old weary tension that came from being treated like a problem nobody knew how to solve.
Julia took one of Samuel’s hot sauces, sniffed it, and made a face. “Why does this smell off?”
Samuel took it back. “Because James bought it.”