The Rancher's Christmas Song. RaeAnne Thayne
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The introduction was met with a huge round of applause for the cowboy singers. Beck settled into his chair and prepared to savor the entertainment—and prayed it could keep his wild boys’ attention.
* * *
He shouldn’t have worried. An hour later, the band wrapped up with a crowd-pleasing, toe-tapping version of “Jingle Bell Rock” that had people getting up to dance in the aisle and in front of the small stage.
His twins had been utterly enthralled, from the first notes to the final chord.
“That was awesome!” Colter exclaimed.
“Yeah!” His twin glowed, as well. “Hey, Dad! Can we take fiddle lessons?”
Over the summer, they had wanted to learn to play the guitar. Now they wanted to learn the violin. Tomorrow, who knows, they might be asking for accordion lessons.
“I don’t know. We’ll have to see,” he said.
Before the twins could press him, Ella Baker returned to the mic stand.
“Thank you all again for your support. Please remember all proceeds from ticket sales for tonight’s performance, as well as our silent auction, will go toward funding music in the schools. Also, please don’t forget tomorrow will be the first rehearsal for the Christmas show and dinner put on by the children of our community for our beloved senior citizens at The Christmas Ranch in Cold Creek Canyon. This isn’t connected to the school and is completely voluntary. Any students ages four to sixteen are encouraged to join us.”
“Hey. That’s us!” Trevor said.
“Can we do it, Dad?” Colter asked, with the same pleading look on his face he wore when asking for a second scoop of ice cream. “We wanted to last year, remember? Only you said we couldn’t because we were going to visit our Grandma Martin.”
That had been a short-lived visit with Stephanie’s mother in Connecticut, who had thought she would enjoy taking the boys into the city over the holidays and showing off her grandsons to her friends. After three days, she had called him to pick up the boys ahead of schedule, sounding ages older than she had days earlier. She hadn’t called again this year.
“Can we?” Trevor persisted.
Beck didn’t know how to answer as items on his massive to-do list seemed to circle around him like buzzards on a carcass. He had so much to do this time of year and didn’t know how he could run the boys to and from the rehearsals at The Christmas Ranch, which was a good fifteen minutes away.
On the other hand, Ella Baker lived just next door. Maybe he could work something out with her to give the boys a ride.
Of course, that meant he would have to talk to her again, though. He did his best to avoid situations that put them into closer proximity, where he might be tempted to do something stupid.
Like ask her out.
“Please,” Colter begged.
This was a good cause, a chance to reinforce to them the importance of helping others. The holiday show had become a high point to many of the senior citizens in town, and they looked forward to it all year. If the twins wanted to do it, how could he possibly refuse?
“We’ll see,” he hedged, not quite ready to commit.
“You always say that,” Trevor said. “How come we never really see anything after you say we will?”
“Good question. Maybe someday, I’ll answer it. We’ll have to see.”
The boys laughed, as he hoped, and were distracted by their friend Thomas—he, of the tiny puppies—who came over to talk to them.
“Are you gonna do the Christmas show? My mom said I could, if I wanted.”
“We want to,” Trevor said, with another cajoling look at Beck.
“Maybe we can have a band,” Thomas said. “I’ll be J.D. and you can be the Warbling Wranglers.”
As they squabbled good-naturedly about which of them would make the better lead singer, Beck listened to them with a sense of resignation. If they really wanted to be in the Christmas program, he would have to figure out a way to make it happen—even if it meant talking to Ella Baker again.
The thought filled him with far more anticipation than he knew was good for him.
“What a fantastic event!” Faith Brannon squeezed Ella’s hand. “I haven’t enjoyed a concert so much in a long time.”
“Maybe that’s because you never go out,” Faith’s younger sister, Celeste, said with a laugh.
“Newlyweds. What are you going to do?” Hope, the third Nichols sister, winked at their group of friends.
Ella had to laugh, even as she was aware of a little pang. Faith had married her neighbor, Chase Brannon, about four months earlier, in a lovely wedding in the big reception hall of The Christmas Ranch.
It had been lovely and understated, since it was a second marriage for both, but there hadn’t been a dry eye in the hall. They seemed so in love and so deserving of happiness.
Ella had managed to smile all evening long. She considered that quite an accomplishment, considering once upon a time, she had completely made a fool of herself over the groom. When she first moved to Pine Gulch, she’d had a gigantic crush on Chase and had all but thrown herself at him, with no clue that he had adored Faith forever and had just been biding his time until she came to terms with her husband’s premature death.
Ella had almost gotten over her embarrassment about events of the previous Christmas. It might have been easier to avoid the happy couple altogether except the Nichols sisters—all married now and with different surnames but still “the Nichols sisters” to just about everyone in town—had become some of her dearest friends.
They were warm and kind and always went out of their way to include her in activities.
“You did a great job of organizing,” Hope said now. “I couldn’t believe all the people who showed up. I met a couple earlier who drove all the way up from Utah because they love J.D. and his Wranglers. I hope you raked in the dough.”
“Everyone has been generous,” she said. “We should have enough to purchase the new piano we need in the elementary school with plenty left over for sheet music at the middle school.”
She still didn’t think it was right that the art and music programs had to struggle so much to make ends meet in this rural school system. Judging by tonight, though, many members of the community seemed to agree with her that it should be a priority and had donated accordingly.
“It was a great community event. What a great turnout!”
“Just