One Tough Christmas Cookie - Lucy McConnell Page 0,38
from under them when she left.”
Faith slouched. “I’m still not sure Mom’s attitude was enough to abandon us over.”
“You think I abandoned you?” Dad’s face grew red. “I fought tooth and nail for custody, but fathers didn’t have the same rights back then, and the money for lawyers ran out real fast.”
Dad turned his hand over and held on to hers like it was a lifeline. “I did the best I could, even knowing your mother was probably poisoning you against me. It tore me up.”
Faith worked to fit this version of her life’s history in with what she already knew—what she’d lived. “You never said a bad word about Mom. I always felt like you just gave up.”
“You had enough negative things in your life. I didn’t want to be one of them.”
Tears threatened, and Faith did her best to hold them back, though she failed and had to wipe them away. “I was so mean to you.”
Dad tugged her hand until she was in his arms. “I never felt that, baby girl. I just loved you and loved you.”
She sniffed into his red flannel shirt. “We’re a mess.”
He chuckled. “That we are.” He squeezed her and then pushed her back to sitting up. One look at her face had him groping for the Kleenexes on the nightstand. “Here, you’re flooding the place.”
She hiccupped a laugh and did her best to wipe away the mascara running down her cheeks.
Dad hemmed and hawed for a moment, like a man who didn’t know what to do when a woman cried. Faith chuckled at his discomfort.
He groped for a topic to change the conversation. “Tell me about Rudy. I have this vague memory of you saying you’re going to perform surgery on him?”
She nodded. This was something she was happy to talk about. “I think I can help him. It’s an elective surgery, though—the cost …”
Dad swatted away her concern. “The wranglers can afford it; don’t worry about that.”
She frowned. “And Caleb says he has to stay at the house with the animal. I’m not sure how I feel about that—mistrusted—that they won’t leave their animal in my care?”
Dad squinted. “You’ve seen these reindeer and the bond they have with the wranglers.”
She twisted the tissue. “I thought reindeer games were just in songs and fairy tales, but they played soccer with them. Well, a version of soccer, anyway.” She’d never forget the spirited game and the wranglers kicking a ball in their cowboy boots and trying not to slip all over the compacted snow while the reindeer returned it right back to them. There wasn’t a goal; it was more about passing the ball around during their lunch break than scoring points.
Dad laughed heartily. “That’s always a good time. You should see what they can do with a Frisbee.”
She smiled warmly. “I’d like that.” Hugging herself, she continued. “The ranch is … magical. I don’t know any other words to explain it.”
Dad opened his mouth and then shut it quickly. He looked at the blanket and then at the ceiling, battling something internally.
Faith waited him out.
Finally, he shook his head. “They might not trust you.”
She jerked back.
“But it’s not them. It’s you, baby girl.”
“Me.” She pointed to her chest. “What did I ever do to them?”
He scratched at his cheek—covered in a week’s worth of whiskers. “If you’re going to be a part of reindeer ranch, you have to believe in the magic—all of it.”
“Like what, Santa?” She snorted.
“Yes.”
The seriousness to his tone washed away her quick, sarcastic remark. “You’re telling me that those cowboys, with their felt hats and thick flannel shirts and beards, believe in Santa Claus?”
He held her gaze.
“You want me to believe in Santa Claus?” She shoved off the seat and began pacing. “Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”
He laughed, stopping her in her tracks. “You bet I do. But it’s the only way. If you don’t believe, you’ll never earn the wranglers’ trust.”
She folded her arms and sat down with a grunt. “I’m a grown woman.”
Dad grinned. “Which is the other reason you don’t want Caleb at the house overnight.”
“Hey.” She swatted at his leg, making him burst into belly laughs.
“You’ve got it bad for the wrangler—don’t ya?”
Faith’s face burned, and she pressed her cold fingers against her cheeks to cool down. “I’m not in love with him, if that’s what you think.”
“But ya like him.”
She nodded slowly as she mulled over the feelings in her heart. “I respect him. Which goes a long