Christmas Gifts: Small Town Christmas / Her Christmas Cowboy

“Please, have a seat.” He motioned toward the kitchen table, needing the distance. “The water will take a couple of minutes.”

Amy shifted the chair and sat, watching him.

Silence buzzed in his ears, and he searched through his thoughts for conversation. Seeing her in his kitchen, so fresh and appealing, his tongue had tied again.

“Mike, does it bother you to talk about your wife?”

“Laura?” The question whisked through his mind. “No, not anymore.” He pulled out the chair adjacent to hers and slipped into it. “Why?”

She shrugged, a gentle expression swept over her face. “I think about the girls growing up without a mom, and I.” “You feel bad for them.”

Her eyes searched his face. “No, but I understand. I’ve been there.”

Her comment jarred him. “Really?”

“I lost my mom when I was four.”

The sadness in her eyes flooded over him. “I’m so sorry, Amy. I didn’t know.”

She shrugged again. “Things happen, and we make it through. But I remember longing to be like the other kids and having a mom as they did. My father tried so hard to be both mother and father to me, but …”

A chill prickled down Mike’s arms. He wanted to fill in the blank yet he had no words.

She finally lifted her head and her eyes captured his. “My dad tried too hard, and when he felt helpless, he gave up. I had no idea what to do, and I felt responsible. I was six or seven when I took on the burden of my dad’s failure and his unhappiness.”

Failure. Unhappiness. Six or seven. The words spilled over him, and he suffocated with the weight. Her comment buried him in thought until he managed to take a full breath.

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Maybe.” Her eyes searched his. “I know you’re trying to be a good dad, but a father is all you can be. You can’t be a mother. Not really.” She reached across the space and rested her hand on his. “But that’s okay because you can be the greatest dad. That’s important.”

Overwhelmed, he struggled to grasp her words. “But how?”

“Lose the guilt.”

Memories flooded him—his talks with Laura about having a baby and her desire to wait. Why hadn’t he listened to her? He couldn’t deny his guilt. The talks with Laura were one-sided. He’d bugged her, wanting to be a dad. Wanting to be a family.

Tenderness etched Amy’s face and rent him in two.

“I do feel guilty sometimes, and I know I’ve failed them.”

“Oh, Mike.” Her hand squeezed his. “You’re a great dad. Look at today, with the snowman and out to breakfast. You dote on them, but that’s part of the problem. You can love them, but they need firm directions without you giving in to their pleading. You’re gentle, but you need to be tough. I know that’s difficult for you.”

He gave her a slow nod, understanding fully what she’d just said. “I’ve been realizing lately that I let them bully me. I give in to their demands. Holly barks, and I jump.”

“She’s a strong character, but Ivy has her way, too. She’s the clinger, just like her name. She beguiles you with her sweet, pleading face.”

He lowered his head with a chuckle. “You’re certainly observant.”

She grinned. “Teachers take a lot of psychology classes. Too bad they can’t apply it to their own problems, but it helps to understand why people behave as they do.”

That’s what Amy had been doing all along. Using her psychology training. He was the parent of two troublesome twins. Naturally she wanted to help the girls, and in the process make her teaching easier. Even though he appreciated her motivation for friendship, the reality left an emptiness in his chest.

Amy eyed him, a scowl edging out her tender look. “Mike, I’ve hurt your feelings. I’m so sorry.”

“No.” He slipped his hand from beneath hers and straightened. “You’ve helped me face reality.”

Her scowl deepened.

“I mean you gave me good advice. You’re right. I’m spoiling the girls. Real life doesn’t work that way. Not everything goes the way we want it to.” The words tore into him, and in the distance, he heard the whistling of the teakettle. He rose. But the sweetness had vanished.

When he looked at her, Amy hadn’t moved, but her face registered awareness that their mood had changed. Her expression twisted his heart.

She rose. “Maybe I should go.”

Their conversation skittered to a halt. Maybe he’d misread her comments. Trying to decipher Amy had troubled him from the start. “Please. Stay. Let’s have the hot chocolate.”

Her expression didn’t change, but she sank back into the chair.

He stirred water into the chocolate mix and popped marshmallows into the mug. “Hot chocolate cures what ails you.”

He set the mug in front of her and made a cup for himself. When he returned to the chair, he knew he had to change the subject. “Do you miss Chicago?” Despite the hot chocolate, cold anticipation washed over him.

“I love the city.” Her gaze drifted toward the back window looking out into the snowy woods behind the house. He held his breath.

“But I spent lots of time in Harrisville when Dad and I came to visit Grams. I consider this my second home.”

His own past came to mind. “I grew up in Cincinnati, but I’ve learned to love the quiet of small town living. It’s like one big family in a way.”

“It is.” Yet her eyes said something else. “Not sure I could live in a small town permanently. I worry I’d be bored.”

The response he’d anticipated sent an icy chill up his spine. If he really wanted to cool his feelings, he would want her to go to Chicago. But he didn’t.

Her gaze caught his. “But right now, unless a job offer calls me back, I’m here.”

He tried again. “Anyone special you’ve left behind?”

She shifted her gaze from his eyes, a thoughtful look spreading over her face. “No one special. Coworkers and people I’ve gotten to know in my apartment building. But friends can be found everywhere.” She locked eyes with him.

“Everywhere.” Did she refer to the twins or did she like him, too? Caution told him to change the subject. Yet he opened his mouth, a feeler comment fell out. “I’ve enjoyed meeting you, Amy.”

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