A Texas Holiday Reunion. Shannon Vannatter Taylor

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СКАЧАТЬ Resa and Colson.

      The ranch truck pulling the wagon rounded the corner and they got the first glimpse of the lights. Cheyenne audibly gasped and seemed to forget all about her grandmother.

      Nigel Birmingham, just as down-to-earth as his wife was snooty, focused completely on his granddaughter. “There’s a cowboy boot bigger than would fit any cowboy I’ve ever known.” He was clearly intent on soothing her with his heartwarming, silly running commentary on each display.

      The little girl giggled, obviously at ease with her grandfather.

      “Except Big Tex. You ever been to the State Fair of Texas?”

      Cheyenne’s eyes widened. “Daddy took me this year. Big Tex is really big and I was scared of him cause he talks. But Daddy says he’s just a big old statue with a recorded voice and they take him apart and put him in a truck once the fair is over.”

      “I think somebody stole Big Tex’s boot. What do you think?”

      She giggled again.

      “Which one’s yours, Resa?” Nigel asked.

      “The nativity.”

      “Ah.” He grinned. “It’s nice.”

      “Do you have one?”

      The wagon hit a pothole, jostling them a bit.

      “The angels overlooking the nativity.”

      “We have a display?” Hyacinth whipped around to face her husband.

      “For years. It doesn’t cost much. You can’t have a nativity without angels, and it makes people happy. You can’t put a price on that, dear.”

      “You helped put up the lights, Poppy?” Cheyenne moved a bit closer.

      “Nope. I just pay to have the angels put up every year. But there are lots of Christmas festivities to come. We could get in on Singing in the Saddle in a few weeks.”

      “Really, Nigel, don’t encourage her.” Hyacinth scoffed.

      “What’s Singing in the Saddle?” Cheyenne, her face aglow from the lights surrounding them, ignored her grandmother.

      “It’s a trail ride of sorts with caroling. People ride horses or wagons around Bandera.”

      “But I don’t want to ride a horse.”

      “How about a wagon?” Resa patted the hay bale where she sat. “You can ride in this very wagon.”

      “Can we go, Daddy? Can we?”

      “We’ll see.”

      “It wouldn’t be Christmas caroling without you.” Nigel sent Colson a hopeful smile. “But just in case, we can sing now.” Nigel started “Silent Night” off, his deep rich baritone echoing through the crisp air.

      As voices joined, Landry elbowed Resa. “So why is the cowboy still here?”

      Resa whispered the explanation.

      “Why didn’t you tell me?”

      “Because it’s no big deal.”

      “And the little girl is his?”

      “He was married. But his wife died two years ago.”

      “Hmm.”

      “There’s no ‘hmm.’”

      “So why did you invite him on the hayride if you don’t like him?”

      “I invited Cheyenne on the hayride.” She whispered the whole thing about Hyacinth demanding a visit.

      “And you care about this child because?”

      “I don’t know.” Resa shrugged. “She’s just a little girl. Who lost her mother. And now she’s had to move away from everything she’s ever known because of me. The least I can do is ease her discomfort with Christmas lights.”

      “Hmm.”

      “You already said that. It’s temporary. They’ll only be here until my parents get back. And then they’ll move back to Kingsville.”

      So why did that thought make her feel sad and lonely?

       Chapter Five

      Colson pulled into the lit church parking lot and parked.

      “Do we have to go here, Daddy?” The insecure little voice from the back seat tugged at his insides.

      “God wants us to gather for worship and fellowship.” And maybe there would be kids her age to make friends with and help with her transition.

      “I know. But it’s big and scary.”

      “Church isn’t scary. You may not know the people here, but church folks are usually nice. Grandpa Mac and Nette will be here.” He closed his eyes. “And Resa.”

      “Really?”

      “Yep.”

      “Okay.”

      He got out, opened the back door and helped her down from her car seat, which she’d already unfastened. Hand in hand, they crossed the parking lot and slipped inside. Several people greeted them and he immediately felt welcomed, just as when he’d attended six years before. But none of the greeters had any children with them. And as each person spoke to them, Cheyenne withdrew more.

      Resa was already here, flanked by Landry and Chase on one side, Annette and his dad on the other. She looked up when he took his seat beside Dad. Colson flashed her a smile. She waved as he settled Cheyenne in his lap. Thankfully, the pianist started up and the song director called out a page number.

      The stained glass windows splashed multicolored prisms on the walls. Not much had changed. The hundred-year-old church was like a time capsule. If only it could comfort Cheyenne the way it did him.

      Three songs later, all the kids and a few adults got up and headed for the back of the sanctuary. Except Cheyenne. Apparently they had classes on Wednesday night, but he knew she’d never go.

      A kind-eyed lady stopped at their pew. “I’m Marilyn Whitlow.”

      “I’m Colson Kincaid and this is Cheyenne.” Little arms wrapped around his neck.

      “What a pretty name. You look just about the age to come to my class. We’ll read a story about Jesus, maybe do some coloring and sing some songs. Would you like to join us?”

      Cheyenne buried her face in his chest.

      “Maybe next time.”

      “Of course.” Marilyn СКАЧАТЬ