One Tough Christmas Cookie - Lucy McConnell Page 0,52

then we don’t go.” Working with family was as much about managing your relationship as it was about getting the work done. If Jack took off without permission … there’d be a reckoning when he got home. “None of us are really guaranteed a place on the ranch forever. Dad could up and sell it for his retirement.”

Jack snorted in derision. “We both know that would never happen.”

“Okay, probably not, but you understand we can still be fired even if we’re his sons, right? They love us something fierce, but they also believe in tough love.” Did they ever. As much as people thought their family was perfect, they were far from it. The one thing they had going for them that everyone else seemed to envy was loyalty. If a brother was in trouble, he had four men for backup—not to mention Dad, Doc, and Mom. And truly, Mom was the one who kept the kids in line who would have picked on the Nichollas brothers for still believing in Santa. She was a mother bear that would scare off the abominable snowman.

“Yeah.” Sounded like Jack remembered the days he was grounded for not making grades. And grounded at their house meant no flying sleighs. For teenage boys, it was like sucking all the joy out of the world.

“Try playing the video for Dad, see if it changes his mind, but don’t expect much.” The news was playing a video of Snowflake racing a snowmobile. It was grainy and you only saw her fly past in a blur, but it was certainly their missing reindeer. The video was viral on YouTube even as “experts” did their best to discredit it. Seemed like there was a world full of grouches this year bent on destroying Christmas cheer.

“I’ll give it a try. Would you be able to go with me?” The only reason they hadn’t gone yet was Rudy’s surgery.

Caleb glanced at the door that led to the clinic. Rudy was sleeping—again. Faith said it was normal, but he didn’t dare leave her alone with the reindeer in case Rudy felt like snoozing upside down again and scaring their vet half out of her wits. “I don’t think so. I’ve got a lot going on with Rudy and Faith. I’m itching to get him in the workout arena, but I’m also worried that he won’t be everything we’re hoping.”

“I feel ya.”

“Thanks, bro. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“If not sooner. The sing-along is tonight. You gonna bring that girl you’re chasing after?”

Caleb didn’t even bother to check his grin. “Maybe.” He hadn’t thought of the sing-along, but now it sounded like the best idea ever. The town did their Christmas sing-along up right—with a giant tree lighting at the beginning and the high school band accompanying the singers. It was one of his favorite traditions. “I’ll need to arrange some things. Maybe you could drop Pax off here and he can drive my truck home. That way, I can ride back with Rudy and not have to leave it here.”

“Sure.”

Gravel crunched outside, and he leapt to the window. Faith set the old truck’s parking brake before climbing out.

“I gotta go. Faith just got home.” He clicked off before his brother could tease him about how he’d phrased that. Yes, she’d gotten home, but not to their home. Although he did feel like he was playing house when he made them dinner. Lemon-pepper chicken was easy enough, and the can of green beans wasn’t fancy, but it would feed them. Nourishment was what Faith needed after being out in the cold. Good food and a cup of hot cocoa.

He dashed into the kitchen to hit the start button on the cocoa machine. It gurgled before Faith pushed through the front door. Caleb scrambled for the barstool, where his book lay open on the counter. He’d been meaning to read the mystery novel he’d gotten for his birthday and had thrown it into his duffel on a whim. It was a good thing too, because he was used to being in motion and he’d done a lot of sitting around today.

“Something smells great,” Faith called from the front door.

Caleb dithered, wondering if he should go out to greet her like he wanted to or if he should not appear so eager.

She came into the kitchen, the cold clinging to her clothing like icicles hanging from her sleeves. North Dakota weather was like that—it wouldn’t let you forget it, even when you got out of it.