Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(46)

“Verdie, you don’t have to cook or do anything. You’re a guest here,” Callie said.

“No, I’m at home here, and I’ll pull my weight, but if I’m overstepping my boundaries in the kitchen, then I’ll dust or clean or do laundry, all of which I can do but I hate.”

“You can cook all you want. No complaints from me,” Callie said.

“Good. That’ll leave you free in the mornings to help feed after y’all do that damned workout shit. I swear, the way you two look all fit, I don’t know why you’d want to go run in this shit. Martin idolizes Finn, so it’s good for him to help when he’s here. Now let’s talk about Finn. He was like a haunted lost soul when I sold him this ranch. He’s more alive now. I think you did that,” Verdie said.

“Sometimes I could just kick him in the butt,” Callie said.

“‘Ass,’ darlin’. Women who drink Jack at ten in the morning don’t kick butt, they kick ass. Why are you ready to put the boot to his ass?”

“I had a crush on him over there, but, oh, no, he had to fall for one of the translators who came to the base every day. I knew something was wrong with her, but I couldn’t figure out what it was,” Callie said.

Lord, why was she discussing this with a woman she’d only met the day before and talked to once on the phone? What was the matter with her? She could hold her liquor better than that.

“That’s life. Things were like green fruit then and would have been bitter if you’d bit into it. Now the fruit is ripe and ready to be harvested. Just be sure you want it, because a serious relationship takes a lot of work and energy,” Verdie told her.

“Sounds like the voice of experience,” Callie said.

“It is, and we’ll talk about my story another time. It’s time for me to start dinner. Those boys are going to come in here starving in about an hour. What’s on your list for the rest of the morning?”

Callie carried her glass to the kitchen. “Are there any mice up there in the attic?”

Verdie shook her head. “Not that I know about. Might be a spider or two, though.”

“Those don’t scare me. I’ll bring down the Christmas boxes. Are they all marked, or do I open up each one? And, Verdie, I can’t stand the idea of you being at the funny farm for Christmas, so please say you’ll stay with us through the holidays.”

Verdie poured another bit of whiskey in her glass and tossed it back. “That’s the best damn Christmas present anyone ever gave me.”

“A second shot of whiskey?” Callie asked.

“Hell no! The invitation to spend the holidays with y’all. We’ve got to go shopping soon as this weather clears up and buy presents to go under the tree. I’m getting that kid some boots. He can’t do ranch work in them shoes. He’ll catch pneumonia, and you need a pair, too.” Verdie threw the switch to cover up the bar. “This is our secret. We wouldn’t want the kids to know it’s here.”

“Kids?” Callie asked.

Verdie just smiled again and set about peeling potatoes. “There’s a rope on the trapdoor. Pull it and one of them fold-up ladders will come down for you.”

The attic was a treasure trove of antiques. Fully floored, it was dusty, and the only place Callie could stand up straight was in the middle, but everything stored up there intrigued Callie.

What could Verdie have been thinking to leave all this family history? Callie would have loved to be able to say that cradle over there in the corner was where her great-grandfather had slept.

Using a rag she found draped over a rolltop steamer chest, she dusted off a sewing rocker and sat down.

“Roots,” she said. “Mama and my sister were blessed with wings, but I have roots.”

When she was old enough to ask questions about her father, her mother told her very little. Her exact words were burned into Callie’s brain: “I’ll always love your father, Callie. He was my first love. We were going to get married and he got killed in a motorcycle wreck.”

Sitting there with the old chair squeaking with every rocking movement, she wondered if maybe that’s why her mama kept running away. She was simply looking for that first love feeling again.

“You okay up there?” Verdie’s voice filtered up through the opening.

“I’m fine. I found a sewing rocker, and I’m just sitting here looking at all this stuff,” she answered.

“That was my mama’s chair. Woman didn’t want arms on a chair when she was knitting. You find the Christmas stuff?”

“I did.”

“I’ll come about halfway up, and you can hand it to me. Make sure there ain’t no spiders on the boxes. Don’t want to fall and break a hip when you’ve invited me to stick around for Christmas. Can’t believe it’s been sixty years since this nursery was even used. All of us kids plus my two sons slept in this baby bed,” she said.

“Not your grandchildren?”

“My boys didn’t like the ranch. Got off it soon as they could. Oldest one went straight into the army, married a girl from California, and settled out there when he’d finished twenty years. Raised his kids in California, and believe me, that bunch of grandkids damn sure don’t want anything to do with this old place. I used to feel sorry for myself because they left Burnt Boot, but then I realized one of them could have married a Gallagher and one a Brennan, and my family would have been split down the middle for all eternity,” she answered.