Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(44)

“Is he asleep?” Finn whispered.

“Out like a light. He thinks he’s too big to crawl into bed with me, so when he has the nightmares, we sleep on the sofa the rest of the night.”

“So you are the nightmare whisperer.” He chuckled.

“What?”

“Like the horse whisperer. Only you banish nightmares with your presence. Damn, Callie! I wish I’d have known that two years ago. I would have looked you up and slept on the sofa with you,” he said.

“You are full of bullshit.” She giggled. “Go back to bed, or else pop up that footrest and go to sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. There must be six inches of snow out there by now. There are cattle to feed and a truck to tow home, and Verdie says we’ll be putting up more decorations after we do chores.”

She heard the recliner pop as it went back. Shotgun moved away from the fire, checked on Finn, and then hopped up on the other end of the sofa.

She awoke early the next morning when sunrays had just begun to filter in through the mini-blinds, creating stripes of light across Finn’s face. She’d seen him with scruff on his face when they went out on a mission, but that was before they’d shared kisses that tilted the world off its axis.

Pots and pans rattled in the kitchen, awakening Shotgun, who cocked an eye that way and growled deep in his throat. The hackles on his back stood up, and his ears laid back.

“It’s just Verdie,” Callie whispered.

Shotgun peeked over the arm of the sofa and caught a glimpse of the newcomer. His tail set up a drumbeat on the leather, and that woke Martin, who hopped up and grabbed the dog around the neck.

“Where’s the other two?” Martin asked.

Pistol waddled in from the utility room, and Angel slunk down the hallway from Finn’s bedroom.

“Here we are. One big old happy family. I wish my friends could be here with us this morning. I know that would make them so happy.” Martin sighed.

Verdie yelled from the kitchen area of the great room, “Well, good morning. Looks like I missed the party, but I’m not bitchin’ a bit. I slept like a baby. I called the school, and it’s canceled for today. Weatherman says this will melt by Sunday and we got another front moving in on Monday. Biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast this morning and an oven omelet to go with it. Y’all goin’ to sleep all day, or are we going to make this house look like Christmas after chores are done?”

“Did Polly call?” Martin asked.

“Not yet, but the office where she worked don’t even open until nine, and since this bad weather has hit, it might take her awhile longer to get ahold of her friends who work there.”

Martin looked over Shotgun’s big head at Finn and then back at Callie. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Callie asked.

“Y’all was talkin’ to each other with your eyes.”

“We were?” Finn asked.

Martin nodded. “Grown-ups do it all the time. They’ve got a secret language us kids can’t understand. Can I help you with the chores this morning, Finn?”

“I’d appreciate a good hand. Dress warm and put on two pairs of socks.” Finn stretched, flipped the lever on the side of the recliner, and sat up.

“We’re burnin’ daylight,” Martin announced. “And I’m starving. Granny Verdie, you will tell me when Polly calls, even if it ain’t good news.”

“I’ll be honest,” Verdie said.

He took off for his room in a run, yelling back over his shoulder that Callie promised they could make snow ice cream if there was enough snow.

The coffeepot gurgled its last, and Verdie carried two full mugs to the living room. “Polly told me this morning over the phone that Beth Layton is sick, but they didn’t tell the kids that she’s only got a few weeks to live. Stage four liver cancer. And Arlan is taking her home to Kentucky, where their people are from, to live out her last days. He doesn’t plan to come back to Texas.”

“I hope someone around here is willing to step up and take them in,” Callie said. “Martin has never made friends like he has here.”

“It’s Christmas. Miracles do happen,” Verdie said. “The biggest one is that I haven’t killed that damn bird. Which reminds me, it’s time to uncover him and let him start his perpetual speechifyin’ again.”

By the time Callie brushed her teeth and dressed in faded jeans, a clean sweatshirt, and a pair of socks, breakfast was waiting on the bar. Finn came from his end of the house just as she pulled four plates down from the cabinet. Verdie brought out orange juice and milk from the refrigerator.

“Y’all don’t say the blessin’ without me,” Martin yelled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. It’s your turn,” Finn said.

“It’s Verdie’s turn,” Martin said.

“Be my pleasure.” She bowed her head. “Dear Lord, thank you for the life inside this old house and for this wonderful little family who is sharing it with me. Thank you for the good food and for the company. Amen.”

“Amen,” Joe said. “Now pass the biscuits, Mary.”

When Callie raised her head, her eyes caught Finn’s and, in that secret language that Martin had talked about, she told him that she’d been right—Verdie was a settler and she had come home.