At the Crossroads (Buckhorn, Montana #3)(79)

He was staring at the deer, and there were tears in his eyes.

She quickly went to him. “Is this too painful?”

Culhane shook his head. “It brings back such cherished memories. I love that you love it.”

“I do. Our children will love all of this,” she said with a wave of her hand.

Culhane kissed her, and they both began to dig through the boxes.

“Shall we start putting things up?” she asked when they’d taken the decorations out of every box. “You know how your mother had them, so just tell me and—”

He was shaking his head. “You decide where things should go. I’ll help. But this is our home.”

“I won’t get it right.”

He laughed. “Look at all of this. You can’t get it wrong.” He picked up a large beautiful crystal angel. “Without thinking, where would you put this?”

“Over there so the crystal picks up the firelight.” She started to correct herself since there were so many other places it could go.

“Perfect,” he said and carefully handed it to her. “Tomorrow we’ll go buy a tree. It’s a little late to be tromping into the woods for one.” He considered the twenty-foot ceiling. “A large tree. Would you like that?”

“I would love that.” She leaned in to kiss him, and he encircled her in his arms. “Our first Christmas.”

Together they began to decorate the large main-lodge living room. Culhane put on holiday music. Alexis made hot apple cider. At the sound of a vehicle, they looked out to see one of the neighboring ranchers pull up. As he climbed out, he pulled a huge evergreen Christmas tree from the back of his pickup.

“I thought with all the moving, you might not have time to cut your own tree this year,” the rancher said. “I’m Bob Barnhart from down the road.” He extended his hand.

“Please come in and have a cup of coffee to warm up,” Alexis offered.

But Bob declined. “I have to get on home, but I would love to sometime during the holidays. My wife is anxious to meet you,” he said to Alexis. “Just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

They hauled the tree into the living room. It was huge but would fit quite nicely.

“We’re going to have to buy a tree stand,” Alexis said after Culhane leaned the tree against the wall.

He laughed. “I’m sure there’s one here,” he said, motioning to the rest of the boxes they hadn’t looked in yet. Sure enough, there was, along with dozens and dozens of ornaments that his mother had collected.

When Alexis’s parents called to see how they were doing, she invited them over. Her mother brought a cranberry-orange coffee cake and some ornaments from Alexis’s childhood.

“You are not climbing that ladder,” Culhane said when he saw Alexis starting up it with more ornaments. She smiled down at him, shook her head and let him spoil her.

It was nightfall by the time Culhane put the star on the top of the tree. Her parents had gone home, leaving the two of them to enjoy their hard work. They stood back in awe, Culhane’s arm around her, as they admired the results.

“It’s...amazing,” Alexis said, her voice breaking. “It’s so...beautiful.” She could see the Christmas lights reflected in his blue eyes along with the sheen of tears.

“Mom would have loved this.” He turned to her. “She would have loved you and this little one.”

“I know I would have loved her.”

He nodded. “And she would have loved how happy we are.”

“I think she knows,” Alexis whispered. “A guardian angel has been watching out for us both. And now your father is with her.”

CULHANE COULD ONLY nod around the lump in his throat. He pulled her close, his gaze locking with hers. As each box had been opened and each decoration carefully lifted out, he had remembered happy memories from his childhood, the ornaments especially representing the best of his childhood Christmases.

“I feel like your mother isn’t the only one here tonight,” Alexis said. “This ranch is such a blessing. Your father wanted it to be perfect for us, and it is. He must have been so happy with you and your mother on your ranch.”

Culhane nodded. “Looking back, I realize that all of this reminded my father too much of her. I don’t think I ever realized how much he loved her. I think I, too, was a reminder of her.”

“We know that he loved you,” she said. “He just didn’t know how to show it.”

“He threw himself into his work,” Culhane said. “After the first Christmas, I didn’t ask to come home. Nor during summer vacation. Maybe he thought I didn’t want to see him, either.” He shook his head. “He would write me a check and tell me to get something I wanted.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, pulling him close.

“It wasn’t all bad. Christmas at the Cardwell Ranch with Ford was so much fun. He has all those cousins. We used to sled and have these humongous snowball fights.” He laughed. “They treated me like I was one of the family. No one could be luckier than that.”

“He knew you loved ranching,” she said, motioning to the ranch they now owned. “You do realize how special this gift actually is, don’t you? My mother said that your dad’s lawyer came over to the house and asked them all kinds of questions about what I liked. Your father hadn’t forgotten you. The Crooked Tree proves it.”