7

 

Within an hour, Ma and Kelley had prepared a marathon meal, but like many suppertimes at the ranch, folks ate all across the big front room, balancing plates on knees, TV trays, end tables, and ottoman tops.

Life didn’t get any better than this, Bragg decided, fireplace roaring at his feet, and Christmas tree lights shooting colored sparkles across Tiffany’s hair. She didn’t eat much, but he reckoned her perfect figure was why. A football game blaring on the big screen caught his eye from time to time, but not the same way Tiffany did.

Ma was glowing. “You all are spending the night. And that’s that. We’re having a sleepover,” she announced in the no-nonsense voice that never allowed a no. “Everybody’s here. I’ll get Scott to set up that Skype gizmo later on so we can say howdy to Pike and Daisy.”

Everybody groaned as one. “They’re newlyweds, Ma. Leave ‘em alone and leave me outta that plan,” Scott managed to say after he guffawed.

Bragg watched dismay wash over Tiffany’s face about being included in the sleepover, and his heart all but broke. Since she was Matty’s nanny, that’s just how Ma saw things. Bragg had looked forward to staying up late again, watching a Christmas movie with her next to him in front of the blazing fire. The stuff of dreams. Holding her close and sneaking a kiss. Then he remembered her church date with Tony. Tony! And his heart started cracking. He had to get it all resolved soon or thoughts like this would keep on messing with his head. His faith.

“That was a splendid meal, Mrs. Martin. Kelley. The marbled potatoes were spectacular.” Tiffany said, not acknowledging the invitation. “The Yukon gold potatoes layered with New Zealand blue and the red rose…” Tiffany sounded like she knew what she was talking about, and his mother and sister chatted with her about cooking for a few minutes.

Feeling better, he had to admit liking the camaraderie among the womenfolk. His womenfolk, if he had his way. When Matty reached for her, Tiffany snuggled him close with kisses and coos. At the tableau of Tiffany holding a baby, for the first real time, Bragg had a weird flash of a hearth and home of his own.

But the vision left his head as Ella’s face squished into an impossible number of muscles. “Those ‘tatoes were yucky. They’re supposed to be white, not colors.”

“Now, now, Ella. Just for that, you gotta challenge your Uncle Scottie in computer bowling.” At that, Scott scooped her up onto his shoulders, both of them giggling like five-year olds as they headed for the pool table room.

“Well, thank you kindly, Tiffany, for enjoying my cookin’.” Ma was holding court now. “And we’re expecting you for Christmas dinner as well. You know that, right?”

Tiffany’s cheeks turned pretty pink but she did nod. He knew it beat her up inside, missing Christmas with Connor, with Paul. Well, the Martins would do their best to show her a real down-home, old-fashioned Christmas.

“That reminds me.” Hooper cleared his throat and got everybody’s attention. “Ella told me her mom has no place to go for Christmas.” His statement was simple, but its deep meaning almost crackled in the air.

“If that’s a hint she should come here, I say nay loud and clear,” sniffed Chelsea. “She messed things up way too good for you and Ella.”

“And she did crash Kenn and Christy’s wedding,” Bragg mentioned in a tone of reason, although surprise had rendered him so speechless at first that he barely found the words.

“Just to see Ella,” Hooper said patiently. “And we’ve always had an open door at Hearts Crossing.”

Bragg snuck a peek at his soon-to-be sister-in-law, Mallie. Her smile was kind. A cancer survivor, she made it clear to all the Martins that she didn’t waste time on negative feelings.

“And we sure forgave Daisy,” Kelley said, ever a generous spirit. “Look how wonderful that turned out for Pike. She’s a changed woman.”

“And Lynn claims to be.” Hoop kept his voice flat, and Bragg wondered at the emotions that must be whipping within him. He was showing Christian charity, sure, and he was secure in his new, true love with Mallie, but there had been many wounded years beforehand for him and his little girl.

“I say we invite her,” Ma chimed in, a godly woman who never held a grudge. “Hooper is right. The doors of Hearts Crossing are always open, and Lynn is ever a child of God. And,” she sighed. “Without her, we wouldn’t have our sweet Ella. Truth to tell, Lynn claims to be finding room for our Lord in her life. She might not accept an invitation to be here among us, that’s a fact, but let it be her decision.”

“I say Ma’s right,” Kenn spoke up, and his opinion would be respected, for he had fully welcomed Daisy into the family. After all, he’d once been dumped by Pike’s new bride, for Daisy’s disastrous marriage to Tony. Tony. Bragg gulped. Would the man’s name and face ever stop popping up?

Yep. Whether for reasons right or reasons wrong, he and Tony would always have a connection. Bragg knew deep down he had to get his grudge leveled out as soon as he could. Had to grab on to the guts to make things right.

“All righty, then,” Hooper said, taking Mallie’s hand. Conversation moved on.

Tiffany’s eyelids blinked away tears, and she headed to the dining room where the enormous buffet had been spread.

Bragg followed, unable to stay away, and saw her hands tremble as she worked the coffee dispenser. It wasn’t like she didn’t have a place to spend Christmas—Ma had just gone public with the invite—but he respected the pain Tiffany felt at being an outcast, her unease at being shirt-tail kin. But once again, he was reminded of God’s care and the blessings He had bestowed on the folks of Hearts Crossing. Bragg had to help cover Tiffany in His love.

“You OK?”

She nodded without looking at him and poured cream into the mug, then wrapped her hands around it as if to warm her fingers.

“You know we really want you here for Christmas, don’t you? Me, especially.” He dared the last two words, and laid a hand on hers. One hand left the mug to finagle her fingers into his, and the heat drew him in. Inside, his heart thudded like a school kid’s at his first crush.

“Of course.” She nodded again, this time looking at him beneath wet lashes. “I’ll think about it.”

“And we just exchange joke gifts. No need to shop.”

Tiffany smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It sounds great. It does. And thanks. But I don’t know about tonight. The big family sleepover. I don’t even have a toothbrush.” Her hand moved from his clasp.

Bragg guffawed, missing her warmth but staying casual, dying to have her relax against him. “No worries. Ma runs a guest ranch. She’s got toothbrushes galore.” He eyed her. “And Chelsea’s about your size.”

“I know.” Tiffany nodded again, smile shy, but full of hurt that panged his own heart. “Everybody’s been very welcoming and gracious. But…I think I’ll call…” She looked down at her boots. “I think I’ll call Tony and have him take me back to Rachel’s.”

Tony?

Disappointment rocked him that had nothing to do with his resolve of a few seconds ago. Any man interested in Tiffany would fret him. “You can’t go. You’re Matty’s nanny.”

“Just when Rachel’s working. When his mama’s free, he’s one hundred percent hers.” She looked away, but he read sadness and regret before her lashes swept down to hide her expression.

Confusion raged. Why would a lonely newcomer not want to take his family up on their warm invitations? It wasn’t like she had any place else to go, and she’d been excited about visiting the ranch earlier this afternoon.

Suddenly she lifted her gaze, and for a flash, his heart hammered.

“I’m thinking I should spend Christmas with Tony,” she said.

His heart stopped.

“The uncle who raised him is dead, and his folks left him behind long ago. He’s got nobody, either. We have a lot in common that way.”

“You’ve got all of us!” Bragg had enough. He waved his hand towards the archway to the front room where happy folks were chatting and eating.

She shook her head. “My job’s the only reason I’m with you right now, Bragg.”

Her words cut to the bone. That was all she felt? He had to let her know the truth. “Tiffany, I’m here for you. And not because your Matty’s nanny. I reckon that’s just the thing that got us meeting each other. I’d like to be with you. If you’d let me.”

Her face took on that bright red cast again, and she looked away.

He reckoned the determination that had him grab for winning times in the pool took hold of him now, for he persisted. “Tiffany, you can’t deny it. You feel something for me.” Without meaning to, his hand found her cheek, fingers melding into the velvet of her skin.

“Oh, Bragg.” Beneath his touch, her cheek flamed. “Of course, I don’t deny it. I do feel something. But those attractions we felt last week are expected at a wedding.”

He held on. “But after, you wanted to say yes when I asked you out, right?”

“Well, of course. But now…we need more than just the heat of a kiss between us.” She laid her hand over his and his blood raced.

“Tiffany.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve got more that. We’ve got friendship, and Matty, and confessions. Our baggage. Our bags of rocks, as I call it.”

She pointed out to the dining room and shook her head. “Everything here is Christmas card-Norman Rockwell perfect. You don’t need somebody like me to mess things up.”

“What?”

“I’m not worthy.”

Stunned, he set down her coffee mug and took both her hands in his, longing to hold her close. “We’re all unworthy, Tiffany,” he managed at last. “None of us deserves God’s blessings. But because of His Grace, His blessings are free. Because of His Love.” He led her to a long deacon’s bench, purposely sitting close to her. “And talking about bags of rocks. Well, the bad guy Satan sends them to each of us. It’s God who helps carry our load, begs us to lean on Him.” As if to make his point, he leaned closer yet.

At his words, she reached now for him, laying warm fingers across his lower jaw. The touch would have weakened him to the floor if he’d been standing, a touch as precious, as fleeting as a butterfly after a spring blizzard. How he wanted more. How he had to hold himself back.

“Bragg, I’m not right for you. I’ve never been involved in church or even cared about God. I mean, around here, He drives your whole life.”

“Poor excuse.” He grinned, reveling in her touch and reading hope in her caress. “You’re determined to push me away, and it’s just not going to work.”

“All right then. I’m no simpering virgin. There was a guy while I was in college. We lived together. The One. Or so I thought.”

He could tell she was forcing herself not to look away. Her honesty reached to the core of his soul, and her admission didn’t appall him.

“What happened?” he asked softly. She had more wounds than he’d ever imagined.

“Well, he wasn’t. The One, you know. But by the time I realized it, I’d…given away…what I should have saved for somebody else.” She looked away now.

“Aw.” He wrapped his arms around her, all but dragging her onto his lap. “We’ve all got some skeleton or other in our closet. Somebody we trusted who got us to stray.”

He couldn’t help remember Daisy saying how Tony had so pressured her into intimacy she’d no choice but to elope. Maybe…the thought burned. Maybe Tony was trying the same thing with Tiffany; Bragg of all people knew how persuasive the man could be in non-sexual ways. None of the kids on the swim team way back when would ever have thought up steroids on their own. Or told him no.

He had to let her know it didn’t matter, whatever had gone before. “My past isn’t full of prideful moments. Point is, I’d like to get to know you better. To be with you.”

Rather than pull away, she cuddled against him, and hope lurched in his heart. “I can’t deny anything. It was good to be with you during the snowstorm. And today, when you showed me the church, the ranch. All that touched my heart. And well”—she turned brighter yet—“you holding me, kissing me. I…”

Their gazes collided and Bragg Martin, once the big man on campus, was experienced enough to read her longing, her wish for another kiss. Then and there, he bent to her parted lips, tasting her pain and confusion as desire rocked him. Blast, he was in a bad way if he could so long for her here, in full view of any eager eyes. Then her lips turned sweet, and her arms met at the top of his neck to wind fingers together and clasp him close. His heart sang. It was like she didn’t even care if anybody else saw them right now.

He sure didn’t. The warmth of her sweet, firm body seeped into his, and he wanted the moment never to end. But it did, crashing big-time, and he read it as a goodbye as she pulled away with obvious reluctance. Heart smacked around his ribs for a different reason. How could she not feel the love of Hearts Crossing…and dare he admit it, the love starting to tumble around in his heart?

“Bragg, being here tonight, more than ever, I know I could never measure up. Tony’s the kind of man I deserve. Lost, broken.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she laid a finger on his lips and rambled on.

“You all trust each other. I blew my family’s trust and look where it got me.”

He kissed the finger first before shaking it away. “Listen, Tony destroyed his marriage to Daisy. He left her. He doped us kids. He hasn’t been a good person. And if you’re lost and broken, Hearts Crossing is the best place to find yourself, find trust. Find forgiveness. Find faith. Trust me. I’ve lived all of that here.”

Tears dripped down her face. “I guess you could be right. I loved hearing Pastor Hale today. Maybe those verses did start something better going in my life. But sometimes, it all feels so hopeless.”

He bent low to nibble away the tears and draw her against his heart again, willing her to feel the strength that could lift her up and keep her safe. His heart pounded in rhythm with hers, and his words came out breathless. “I could be the one to help fix things. Help you find your way. Into the Lord’s hands and into my heart.”

She sighed once, then her lost breath moaned in his ears as he kissed her, real, man-woman style. Her mouth opened as his lips closed around it, tasting coffee and salt tears, and springtime all at once.

“Tiffany, you should be with me.”

 

****

 

Did she? Did she belong with Bragg?

Morning sunshine bounced off new-fallen snow and into the guestroom through gingham curtains, and Tiffany snuggled underneath a red-patterned quilt in a bed with a big wagon wheel headboard. Another perfect Normal Rockwell detail, but nothing so perfect as last night. After that soul-wrenching kiss, they’d cuddled on a loveseat while the whole group watched a Christmas movie, and nobody had reacted like their canoodling wasn’t totally fitting and normal. After a whole night dreaming about him, satisfaction rippled across her skin, satisfaction because, with all her warts, Bragg wanted her. Of course, in his own way, Bragg had been wounded and had wounded others. But he’d found healing and peace. How could it be otherwise, here at Hearts Crossing, surrounded by so much love and support?

Surrounded by God. Pastor Hale’s words and the Bible verse from yesterday hammered in her mind now, just like it had hummed her to sleep. Let no poisonous root of bitterness trouble you. Don’t let unforgiveness control your life. Learn to forgive, and remember, you are forgiven as well.

So she was forgiven. And Bragg had said she was allowed to forgive. Was this the reason she came to Hearts Crossing? Was Bragg the conduit, the icing on the cake? She moaned, missing Paul with an ache. How she wished he loved her again, that Connor was back in her life. That Olga had forgiven her. As for Diana, for the first time, Tiffany tried to consider what had motivated her sister-in-law’s bad decisions. Tiffany had never thought to ask, to offer a shoulder. To walk in Diana’s shoes. To forgive. Like everybody else, she’d judged, yet hated when it happened to her.

But her mood lightened as she hopped from the bed. She’d be seeing Bragg in just a few minutes, and riding to church with him. As she got ready, though, her spirits darkened because she was really getting ready to meet up with Tony. Despite Bragg’s pleas, she felt duty-bound to honor her church-date with Tony, with brunch after. Worse, she seriously considered giving in to her instincts that Tony O’Neal deserved to have a kindred spirit to spend Christmas with.

Well, for now, she’d relish every second she could at Bragg Martin’s side. And maybe, just maybe, Pastor Hale would impart something else today to get her finally convinced and healed.

She kept enough make-up supplies in her purse to get by and along with the new toothbrush, a pale blue cashmere sweater loaned by Chelsea, and cowgirl undies from the gift shop, Tiffany had no qualms about facing the day. Damp from the shower, her hair wound nicely into waves at her shoulders, and her heart danced with excitement as she bounded down the chairs.

As if he’d heard her footfalls on the stairs, Bragg stood waiting at the bottom. Like a prince waiting for his princess. Like a bridegroom waiting for his bride.

Duh. Where had that thought come from? Well, wherever, it had her heart pounding. Of course, the memory of their kisses had something to do with that as well.

“’Morning. Sleep good?” His eyelids lowered over a sexy smile. Over a crisp white Western shirt, he wore a black wool vest. Jeans hugged his thighs in just the right places, hems nestling over dress boots.

“The best in a while. You?”

“Yep. That’s kinda how it is at Hearts Crossing.”

She knew his words were intended to convince and comfort, and they were working. But doubt hit even as she checked him out. “You sure I look all right?”

“You look gorgeous.”

She knew he meant it, and a pleasured heat brushed over her. Church had never been her thing, but she had doubts about attending wearing jeans and boots.

“I do mean it. Nobody fancies up around here. Now, Ma’s got some stuffed French toast waiting. We’ve got just enough time.”

She hated to tell him, but now was the time. “Um, you go ahead. Maybe just a cup of coffee. It smells heavenly, but, well.” She barged ahead, refusing to give in, and could not look him in the eye. “I don’t know if I mentioned it, but, um, right after church, Tony is taking me to the Cattlemen Club for brunch.”

“Oh. All right.” Bragg shrugged. “Well, let me just grab a couple of cups.”

“I want to thank your mom and say goodbye.” Tiffany left him at the coffee urn to find Elaine Martin. Her veins ran with a funny disappointment. He’d acted offhand about the brunch date. Somehow in her feminine wiles, she’d hoped it would bother him at least a little bit.

More than anything, Tiffany longed for a morning kiss, to find out for sure, but she couldn’t find the bravado to bestow one herself. Bragg did help her into her coat, though, and take her hand as they left the house for his truck.

In spite of everything, the silence between them was companionable as they drove to church. That had to mean something. A light snow had dusted the world overnight, and Tiffany was once again struck with the beauty surrounding her.

Now and again Bragg spoke up and pointed out a landmark. A grove of snow-clumped apple trees said to have been planted by an ancestor. The little chapel at Woodside Meadows, where Kenn and Christy had wed in October. Fortress Creek, where legend said the cavalry had once planned a fort. Nobody knew for sure.

All would have been perfect as they drove under the antler arch into Mountain Cove, other than the sight of Tony O’Neal waiting for her on the steps of Community Church, slicked up and dressed fine. She gave a weak wave, aching for Bragg. Hoping the peace she longed for would be found inside today.

As if reckoning she was some other man’s woman, at least temporarily, Bragg didn’t hold her hand as they trudged from the parking lot to the church. However, he did keep his hand protectively and politely at the small of her back.

“’Morning, Martin.” Tony said uneasily as he held out his arm to her.

“’Morning, O’Neal.” Bragg’s voice was clipped, and she knew right then he hadn’t done what he’d told her to do. He hadn’t yet forgiven Tony O’Neal. And her womanly instincts recognized a frisson of jealousy now. But she was spared further rumination as Pastor Hale appeared out front to greet and welcome the arriving congregants. Although his eyes were as bright and blue as yesterday, his face somehow looked drawn and a bit gray.

“Hey, Rev, you feeling OK?” Bragg asked, obviously noticing it himself.

“Tired as all get out, is all. I overdid it with the snow shovel yesterday. Joanne has already lit into me good.” Pastor Hale chuckled, straightening slumped shoulders. “The kids are flying in tomorrow, and I promised to rest up all afternoon.”

“Thanks again for babysitting,” Tiffany squeezed his hand.

If there were ever two people who would show her the right path, it would have to be Bragg Martin and Pastor Hale. And after all, what did a simple brunch with Tony O’Neal have to do with anything? In the back of her head, like a bee buzzing around a flower, was the burgeoning thought that Christmas at Hearts Crossing Ranch just might be why she was led to Mountain Cove. If Bragg was right, God didn’t do stupid things. People did, and when they did He ached to help them out of their muddle.

If they let Him.

You belong with me. She heard Bragg’s words again as Tony brought her inside. Learn to forgive, and remember, you are forgiven, as well.

Pastor Hale’s message buzzed now. The choir’s hauntingly beautiful Gregorian chants mixed with the grandeur of the mountain vista framed by the huge windows, and a peace beyond any understanding settled upon Tiffany’s heart. She wanted more than anything to toss Bragg a look that maybe she was finally getting it. But she was with Tony. At least they sat on the opposite side of the church from the Martin clan, a clan who now included Daisy Densmore Martin’s family. Even a rambunctious little nephew named Owen, about Connor’s age. She wondered how forgiving they could be toward the man who had sent Daisy so off track.

As the choir finished, Pastor Hale took his place, center aisle, right below the steps. He seemed sweaty, but the nave was very warm, and his voice was strong. “Good morning, and welcome on this fourth and final Sunday of Advent. Join with me as we continue to prepare the way of the Lord.”

He turned to reach the lectern, but stumbled on the steps, staggered, and then collapsed.

Tiffany gasped, heart stilling for a second. Shivers attacked her spine from top to toe.

As the congregation slow-mo-ed in similar horror, Bragg and Tony instantly got up at the same time. Opposite sides of the church, and in sync, they dashed to the pastor, did a quick assessment of him, and started CPR.

Several times Tiffany had learned the procedure, but had always reckoned she’d be too panicked to be of use. And right now proved her right. She could barely move, yet her body succumbed to a riot of shudders.

Bragg and Tony, however, seemed as confident as presidents.

ABC. Not a kindergarten lesson, but Airway, Breathing, Compression.

Five compressions from Bragg. One breath from Tony. Suddenly she recalled the AED box stocked at the large Denver law firm, as Kelley Martin ran from the church.

“Does the church have an emergency defibrillator?” Tiffany called out.

The choirmaster gestured for his group to leave their places and make a privacy screen as some congregation members craned their necks nervously. Several moved to come forward. Somebody from the next row explained no, such boxes were too expensive. Somebody else wailed that Pike Martin, also an EMT, was on his honeymoon.

As if on some heavenly cue, the organist began to play and the choir started a soft song.

But none of that fazed the team of Bragg and Tony, working as one. Working for a common cause. Working for the good. Working to save Pastor Hale’s life.

Both terror and joy swamped Tiffany because the two men had taken such sure charge of the potential disaster.

Just as Elaine Martin got up to tend to frantic Joanne Hale, Hooper and Kenn stepped up to hold back the congregants moving toward the action.

Even though she knew Bragg had other things on his mind, Tiffany ached to be at his side.

“Everybody else stay back,” Hooper said, firm but not arrogant, as the music faded off. “Bragg and Tony know CPR from their swimming days. And my sister Kelley is off to rouse the volunteer rescue squad. Let’s let God take charge. Let’s bow our heads and ask Him to hear us.”

Fear, hope, and trust rustled up and down Tiffany’s spine as she tore her gaze away from Bragg and bowed her head. During Hooper’s authoritative, heartfelt plea, she prayed like she’d never prayed before because, truth was, she never had.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Kelley rush back in, followed by the emergency squad. The EMT’s raised defib paddles across Pastor’s inert body, announced “flat line” and began a drug protocol.

With confidence, Hooper segued the congregation into the Lord’s Prayer. Everybody around her knew it by heart and recited now, firm and hopeful. Shame laved Tiffany. She’d never even bothered with the Our Father. Yet some of the phrases were familiar. In His wisdom, God had somehow planted seeds, and she mumbled along pretty fine.

“Life Flight is on scene at a pile up on Highway 40. Let’s keep those folks in our prayers, too.” Kelley’s voice projected over the congregation as the last “amen” was said. “But Doyle Calhoun is on his way in his ‘copter. It’s a roomy, four-seater Robinson, and he’s got a basket, too. If needed, he can get Pastor Hale to the cardiac unit in Steamboat in no time.”

“He’s got a rhythm. We’ll get him to the medical clinic in Promise in ten, and wait on what the ER says,” announced one of the medics, as the EMT’s prepared the pastor on a gurney.

Prayers gave way to sighs of relief.

Joy thumped through Tiffany when Bragg and Tony stepped out of the way and faced each other with an elbow-to-elbow handclasp. Then they tightly embraced each other.

At the choirmaster’s lead, the congregation burst into “Joy to the World,” and Tiffany tasted the tears that ran down her cheeks. Finally, she realized she had bones inside her quivering skin. On strengthened legs, she stood straight and sang with joy.

Without a word, Bragg reached her side and clasped her close, despite them being in church and Tony standing near. Her knees turned to jelly again. “Bragg…” She started to speak out, but had no clue what she meant to say.

His arms tightened. “It’s all right. He’ll be fine.”

“You and Tony” —She caught her breath and turned her head from Bragg’s chest to behold Tony, who smiled, shy—“you guys saved Pastor’s life.”

“How about that? The Lord sure works in mysterious ways,” Bragg whispered into her hair, so close she heard each syllable, smelled his pine scent.

She tried to calm the shudders of aftershock that wracked him. Like the wings of a bird, her hands left his neck to flutter against his hair. The notes of the beautiful old carol trilled around then in a dream, but for Tiffany, the reality had finally hit her.

God was in charge. He’d proven it just now. He didn’t make mistakes.

Tony had a purpose here, and so did she. Finally calmed, Bragg took her hand as they sat back down.

A man well-dressed in a regular Sunday suit, not western wear, took the lectern as the choir finished. Tiffany found her soul rejoicing as the truth of his words hit her heart.

“Let’s continue, brothers and sisters, with a carol, singing to honor our newborn Lord, and a prayer service asking God to preserve Pastor Jim, to sustain Joanne. Let’s thank our dear and generous Lord for Bragg and…this young visitor—why, it’s Tony O’Neal. Been a while, son. Anyway, thank God for granting them the skills of that lifesaving procedure. Thank Him for the promptness of our rescue squad. Most of all, let none of us forget what we saw here today. That God is love.”

Like it wasn’t awkward at all, Tony joined her and Bragg, all three squashed close in the front pew.