A McCree Christmas (Chasing McCree) (6 page)

Chase

I made the call, since Briar did not want to speak to her father. I expected Dr. Thompson to be upset, and to wonder why we called him so late, but he simply said he’d be right over.

After her father arrived, I paced the floor while Briar sat on the floor outside the bedroom He didn’t say anything to us, except, “Thank you for calling.”

I was worried as hell. No one was telling us anything, other than to stay outside.

Eventually I sat next to Briar and she slumped against me. I wasn’t going to wake her up to tell her what was happening, but I began to pick up on things people were saying in the bedroom, and it didn’t sound good.

“Chase.” Briar’s father came out a while later and gave me a halfhearted smile. “You can get some rest. My father is fine. Nothing but an upset stomach.”

From my place on the floor, I tilted my head back and locked eyes with him. He looked stressed out, and his gaze wavered. A fake smile appeared, and I go the feeling he was lying to me.

“What’s really going on?”

He shook his head. “Nothing you need to know about.”

I slipped my arms under Briar and lifted her with me as I stood. “It’s not good.”

He looked away. “I think we can talk about this in the morning. I’ll be here for the night to keep an eye on him. If I’m correct, you have a flight to catch tomorrow.”

So that was it. He wasn’t going to tell me anything, yet.

I turned and headed for my room, taking Briar with me. I kept her close the whole night, but I tossed and turned. I knew something was wrong. Her father wouldn’t  spend the night with his parents unless it was bad. An upset stomach hardly warranted an overnight stay from the hospital’s best surgeon.

When the first rays of light fell across the bed, I got up and showered. Briar was coming around, but I left her to sleep a little longer while I made a pot of coffee. There was some already made when I got down, and I poured a cup without seeking out who had done it.

On my way upstairs I caught a glimpse of Dr. Thompson sitting in the living room, reading over a few papers.

“Sir?” I cleared my throat and stayed back, but he looked up and acknowledged me. “How’s Grandpa?”

“Fine.” He looked down at the papers and frowned. “Is there something I can do for you, Chase?”

“Love Briar.”

His head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

“Love her,” I said. “Or at least…pretend to.”

He pulled off his glasses and threw them on the coffee table. “I do love my daughter, and you need to stay out of this.”

“It’s a strange kind of love, making her feel like she’s not good enough, and kicking her out of her own home because she stood up for herself.”

“How I discipline my child is none of your business. She has to understand that she represents this family, and her behavior is uncalled for.”

“She’s not a child.” I turned for the stairs. “Dr. Thompson, I think you need to take a close look at how you treat people. When you’re old and sick like Grandpa, you’d better pray that your superficial expectations haven’t pushed Briar so far away that you rot alone in a nursing home. When it’s your time to go, you’d like to be surrounded by people who love you. Not your uptight friends, or someone doing their job to collect a paycheck.”

“I keep telling you—” Grandpa slammed his fist on the tray in front of him and glared at the nurse Briar’s father had brought in to take care of him. “—I ain’t eating that damn Jell-O. I want a steak, rare, and a scotch on the rocks.”

I held in my laughter as the nurse rolled her eyes and walked out of the room. “Just be happy you’re not confined to the hospital.”

Grandpa poked the Jell-O with his fork. “I’m a man. Men eat meat.”

Briar fluffed his pillows and opened the curtains by his bed. “You’ll be able to eat whatever you want once your stomach isn’t so tender.”

Grandpa crossed his arms and looked to me for help. “Maybe you could sneak me up a little juice? Come on, it’s Christmas Eve. Spread the holiday cheer.”

Grandpa loved his booze just as much as Grandma. “Sorry, sir. I’d love to, but I don’t want to make you any sicker than you already are.”

“Norm, this is what happens when you get old.” Grandma poked her head in the room. “First they treat you like a baby, and then you start acting like one.”

I glanced between the two old folks, wondering if what she’d said had sunk in in.

It hadn’t.

“Crazy old hen.” Grandpa smiled at Briar. “How’s my favorite girl?”

Briar frowned. “You can’t butter me up.”

“I got a twenty-dollar bill with your name on it.”

“Bribery won’t work, either.”

Now that really riled him. He wouldn’t look at any of us, and decided he was going to pout until he got a steak and a drink. The nurse was onto him, though she didn’t let Grandpa know, and even told Dr. Thompson when he arrived. She followed orders, and gramps wasn’t getting away with anything, not even the square of chocolate he fished out of the bedside table.

“Hey Dad.” Dr. Thompson sat on the side of the bed to look his father over. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a child.” Grandpa glared. “Damn Nazi nurse and her damn pills. I keep telling everyone, I’m fine. Healthy as a horse.”

“I know you are, Dad, but I just want to make sure you’re all right. You can’t blame me for that.” Dr. Thompson glanced back at Briar and me, and nodded toward the door. “Now, you sit comfortably until I get back.”

I followed Dr. Thompson out of the room. Briar kept to my side. We didn’t ask questions, because he was going to tell us what was going on. It couldn’t be too bad; after all, the old guy seemed to be doing just fine. He was up and alert and his eyes were a lot brighter than they’d looked yesterday. He’d be back to his old self in no time.

We gathered downstairs around the dining-room table. There was a jar of ginger cookies in the center, and we snagged a couple, but no one seemed too keen on talking. It took a few minutes, but Briar finally broke the silence. “Dad, we know there is something wrong with Grandpa, and I know it’s not good. Just tell us, please.”

“Grandpa has cancer. We’ve known for a few months now, and we have been keeping it secret, hoping that we could get through the holidays and then break it to the family. It’s spread from his stomach…everywhere.” Her father drew a deep breath. “All we can do is make him comfortable. He’s too old and too frail to fight it.”

I put my arm around Briar, silently offering my support. “How long does he have?”

He shook his head. “We don’t know enough yet, but I’d like to hope he has at least six good months left.”

“Grandma knows?” Briar’s voice cracked. She was barely holding it together, and I was almost right behind her, as far as breaking down. I hadn’t known Grandpa long, but how could anyone not love the old guy?

“She’s in denial,” he said. “As tough as my mother is, this will devastate her. Briar, I think it might be best for you to stay with her. Come home from Montana, and spend time with Grandpa.”

“Bullshit.”

We all turned to look at Grandma hovering in the kitchen doorway.

“Mom, I’m sorry, I had to tell them.” Dr. Thompson stood, his face paling in shock.

His mother put up her hands. “I know Norm is sick. I’m not in denial. Damn, I’m probably sick, too. But you are not—hear me now, son—not using my husband as a way to get your daughter to come home. She made her choice, and she’ll damn well stick to it if it’s the right one for her.”

“But Grandma,” Briar cried, “I don’t want you to be alone. Dad’s right—I should be with you.”

“What a load of malarkey.” Grandma braced her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do, sit here and watch an old man die? It’s your job to be young and free and happy, and that’s what I want you to do.”

“But—”

“No buts, cookie. We all know Grandpa lost his noodle long ago, and if he knew you were going to leave Montana to watch him wither away, he’d be pissed three ways from Sunday.” She gave a nod and rubbed her hands together. “So here’s how it’s going to go. Briar and Chase will head back to Montana today, as scheduled. It’s Christmas Eve, for crying out loud. They can visit as much as they want. My darling, conniving son and his duck-lipped wife are going to step up to the plate and take care of their elderly parents. In fact, why don’t we all move in together? It’ll make things a hell of a lot easier, and I do love gardening and tracking dirt all over those lovely white carpets Duck-Lips cherishes.”

We watched, shocked, as Grandma grabbed a cookie out of the jar and hobbled out of the room. The bells on her socks jingled ch
eerily with each step she took.

Grandma

Things were changing. When I was younger I hated change. Norman was fine with it. He said it was the way of things. It was something to embrace and love.

I wasn’t sure about the changes coming my way.

Some days I’d wake up and look in the mirror, and I wouldn’t recognize that wrinkly old face and puff of white hair. But then I’d remember I’m Grandma. I had a sense of humor about getting old.

There were days though, when it was hard to laugh and joke.

Most days it was the only thing I seemed to remember how to do.

I loved my granddaughter. And as I watched Briar leave, I knew she was going to be okay. She had an amazing life ahead of her with a cowboy who’d love her like Norm loved me. I couldn’t tell her what to do, but I tried to let her know that what she was doing was right.

It was time for Briar to grow and to see things other than what her parents set before her. Chase was an integral part of that. I knew without a doubt that as long as they had each other, nothing would stand in their way.

Not everyone was behind me on my beliefs, but they could suck lemons and bark at the moon for all I cared. They could just continue to think that I was out of my mind most of the time, and that would be fine with me.

“Norman,” I said to him as we watched a Christmas Eve special in our matching striped pajamas, “what do you think about visiting Montana while you still can?”

He was enthralled with the show, but he eventually turned his head to smile at me. It was that same old smile I’d loved for more than sixty years. Dimpled, lopsided, and full of heart. I’d miss it when he was gone. And I’d miss him even more. “Go to Montana?”

I nodded. “Why not? You’ve never been, and I know you would feel better seeing where Briar lives now.”

“Are we flying?” Air planes were one of his favorite machines. For our first date, he snuck me onto an airfield and we watched them take off into the sunset.

“Of course.” I smiled at him and took his hand in mine. “It’s the only way to go.”

His eyes got a faraway look, and he turned back to the TV. “Long as I can call Marvin when I get there. He’ll want to know all about Montana.”

I agreed. His good friend Marvin would want to know all about Montana. It would be an amazing trip for Norm. A really special one too. I looked forward to it with my whole heart, and dreaded it at the same time.

I turned back to look at the TV, holding tightly to Norman’s hand, and to the time I had left with him.

I wo
uld cherish every minute of it.

Chase

I was awakened on Christmas morning by Stinker. He was excited to have me home, and after getting in late last night, and allowing me to sleep for five hours, he wasn’t going to be good and let me be.

I sat up in bed and gave him a pat, threw one of my socks across the room for him to fetch, and grabbed my phone.

I stared at the screen in shock. There was a text message from Briar’s father, wishing me a merry Christmas, and thanking me for taking care of his daughter.

Maybe miracles did happen.

It wasn’t the family love and get-together I’d hoped for, but maybe it was a step in the right direction.

I dressed, and on my way downstairs, peeked into Briar’s room to see how she was. She’d been distraught the whole flight home, not knowing whether leaving had been the right decision or not, and so worried about her family. But Grandma’s mind was made up. Briar was not staying in Florida. She could visit as much as she wanted, but she wasn’t going to play nurse to an old, dying man.

I didn’t want Briar going through that. I didn’t want her to feel the pain of watching someone she loved get sicker and sicker. It was bound to happen one day, but this was not the right time for her to go through it.

So I complied with Grandma’s wishes, too, even though I’d entertained the idea of staying with my parents for the next few months so I could be with Briar.

I went down to the kitchen, and instead of coffee, filled a mug with hot chocolate set out by my aunt. It was rich, homemade and delicious.

“Chase.” Jerry came into the kitchen. “Merry Christmas.”

I hugged him. “Merry Christmas. What are you dressed up for?”

“Oh—” He patted the front of his coat and smiled. “—we’re going down to Grant’s to watch the grandkids open their gifts. Care to join us?”

“Thanks, but Briar is still asleep, and I think we’ll take it easy today.”

I watched him and Millie get in their truck and head down the drive for Grant’s house. It was a beautiful morning. I let the dogs out and sat on the porch swing, watching them roll and play in the snow. The puppies were really having a ball, and digging until they reached dirt.

Stinker seemed to be above all the excitement, and sat at my feet with a huff.

“I thought you wanted to play?” I scratched his head, and he watched his offspring with the eyes of a seasoned father. This was his third litter with Millie’s spaniel, Missy.

“Merry Christmas, Chase.”

I glanced over my shoulder, and smiled at Briar. She was standing in the door way, with her coat pulled over her pink flannel pajamas.

“Merry Christmas.” I waited to see how she was feeling, didn’t want to pounce on her.

“I called Grandma when I woke up.” She sat on the bench and curled into my side, plopping her head against my chest. “She sounds a lot better, and Grandpa’s been a pain in her butt.”

I pressed my lips to the top of her head. “They sound like they’re doing good.”

“Yeah. I told them we’d be down in a few weeks, if that’s all right with you.”

“It sounds good to me.”

She was silent for a minute, but then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a little package wrapped in green paper. “I have something inside for you, but this one, I think, is the most important.”

I took the package from her, and opened the paper. The box inside held a new belt buckle. The design on the front was of my horse, Ash. It wasn’t something she’d picked out at the store. It’d been handmade just for me. “Briar, I love it.”

“Really?” she asked. “I wasn’t sure if it just looked like any old horse once it was finished.”

“It’s perfect.” I kissed her, and called for the dogs to come back inside. We followed them in, and I went straight to the Christmas tree for the big red box with Briar’s name on it. “Now this is for you.”

She pulled at the white bow and lifted the lid. Her eyes lit up. “It’s a hat!”

A pristine white cowgirl hat, just like the one she borrowed from Millie. Only this one was special. It had a purple woven band around the crown.

Briar placed it on her head and struck a pose. “How do I look?”

“Like an angel,” I leaned in for a kiss. “My angel.”

We spent the rest of the morning in the living room, lounging in front of a roaring fire and drinking hot cocoa. But come midday, I had to go out and check a few things around the house. One part in particular was a piece of fencing I’d noticed when we got home last night. The headlights of my truck had illuminated it, and it looked as if someone had backed the tractor into it again. Most likely Jerry.

I left Briar to play in the yard with the dogs and keep an eye on the puppies, and saddled Ash for a quick ride.

The snow was deep. Parts came up to my waist, and I trudged through it to the fence behind the house to make sure it would hold up. Didn’t need any animals getting out. I wasn’t in the mood to chase them today. It was Christmas, and I wanted to be done before Grant and the rest of the family gathered for dinner tonight.

The metal was shiny with ice, but it held, so I could put off replacing the section until the weather let up a bit.

I turned back for Ash, and he looked longingly at the stables. He knew where it was warm, and he wanted to get out of the cold as much as I did.

“Come on, boy, I’ll give you a special treat.” I swung onto him, and I didn’t have to tell him what to do—he took off in the direction of the stables.

The wind beat at me, to the point where I wondered how we could move forward. I ducked low on the neck of my horse. If the storm dumped anymore snow tonight, I’d be digging us out come morning.

Ash barreled into the stables, right for his stall. I brushed him off, put his blanket over him and fastened it so it wouldn’t slide off. With him fed and settled in, I checked the rest of the horses to make sure they were comfortable.

Stinker barked.

I glanced at my dog and shook my head. “Not around the horses.”

He barked again, and this time he lowered his head and stared right out the stable door.

I frowned, not liking his aggressive behavior. “Stop. You wanna play with the other dogs, fine. Be nice.”

He snarled.

“Chase!” Briar cried. The terrified sound of her voice, followed by a scream that I’d never heard ripped from her throat before, cut into me.

Then I heard the sound of an animal. A roar that was unmistakable echoed on the wind. I grabbed my dad’s rifle off the gun rack by the stable doors. A Winchester .30-30 lever action. I loaded it as I ran for the sound of Briar’s voice.

A massive, beastly mountain lion stood in the center of the yard, his eyes trained on Briar.

Stinker took off running, racing for the animal. My little dog was no match. It was too late to stop him. I didn’t want to shoot it in front of Briar, but the animal was moving towards her, snarling.

I lifted my dad’s rifle, took aim, and a streak of black flew past me. Past Stinker. It slid to a stop between Briar and the mountain lion.

It was a wolf.

I knelt in the snow, aiming for the mountain lion, but the wolf… It leapt for the mountain lion and they tumbled to the ground. Stinker retreated from the brawl, close enough for Briar to grab him. She ran up onto the porch. I watched the fight, slightly in awe.

But that was just for a second.

I took a deep breath, chambered a round, and squeezed the trigger.

The mountain lion landed with a thud, not moving.

I aimed for the wolf next.

“No!” Briar raced back into the yard.

I ran for her, trying to cut her off. I wasn’t sure the mountain lion was dead yet. “Stop, Briar!”

She skidded to a halt about thirty feet from the animals. “Don’t kill the wolf.”

I shook my head. “I have to. He’s a danger to us—to the cattle—”

“He was defending me,” she shouted, staring at the animals in the yard. “Please, Chase, at least see if he’s friendly.”

“He’s a wild animal,” I said, eyeing the black mass in the snow. He was pretty beat up from fighting off a mountain lion. Might have to just put him out of his misery anyway. “I can’t risk him coming back near the house. Please, go inside and let me take care of this.”

“But you’re going to kill him,” she cried. “I’ve seen him before. He didn’t hurt me, and he could have.”

I couldn’t believe I was about to do this, but I kept the rifle trained on the animals as I edged closer. The black wolf was lying in the snow, and as his head came up, ice blue eyes met mine. “This is crazy.”

“He’s not a bad wolf, Chase. I know it, and I think you know it too.”

I was five feet from him, when he barked. Like a regular, happy-to-see-you bark, and his tail thumped against the snow. He was wagging it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I felt Briar come up beside me, and put a hand out to stop her. “Not so fast.”

“He doesn’t look exactly like a wolf, does he?” she asked.

I took a closer look at him, and wondered if he wasn’t mixed with some domestic dog. Like a shepherd, or maybe a husky.

I took my eyes off the wolf to make sure the mountain lion was dead. There was no chance of him rearing up and attacking, so I crouched in the snow by the wolf and pulled off one of my gloves. I held it out, instead of my hand. He nuzzled it, sniffed it, and scooted closer.

Briar slipped right around me before I could stop her and stretched out her bare hand for the animal to sniff. I held up my dad’s rifle, thinking I’d be quick enough if he snapped at her. But he licked her hand, and lifted his head for a pet.

“I’ll be damned.” I sat in the snow, watching Briar fuss over the wolf. “I’m not sure he’s full blooded.”

“What are we going to do with him?” Briar’s green eyes met mine and I knew that was a rhetorical question.

I handed her the rifle, and carried the wolf into the last stall of the warm barn. We cleaned him up and gave him some dog food and water. I put in a call to the vet, and we went back to the house to find Millie proudly sitting on the front porch.

“Either of you want a new rug?” Millie asked, eyeing the mountain lion in the yard.

I shook my head. “Why don’t we let one of the hands take it, or maybe Grant?”

Briar agreed, “Yeah, I’d rather not have him lying around the house.”

“Millie,” I said, trying to figure out the best way to break the news to my aunt, “there’s a wolf in the barn.”

She choked. “A what?”

“A good wolf,” Briar said quickly. “He’s domestic, you know, like a pet. He attacked the mountain lion to save me.”

“Yeah, so if you could not shoot him, we’d really appreciate it.” I said. She wasn’t the first person of whom I’d had to ask that.

“You’re both chickens,” Briar said when we brought the hands into the barn to meet the wolf. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

Grant frowned at our new friend, and Mac kept his distance, staring at me as though I’d lost my mind.

“How do we know he’s not going to kill our livestock?” Grant asked.

Briar demonstrated that not only did the wolf listen; he also knew how to sit, and other commands. She’d spent most of the afternoon getting to know him, much to Grant and Mac’s dismay. They were shocked I’d leave her alone with the wolf, but I knew he wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

I met Mac’s eyes, then Grant’s. “I want to make sure you guys don’t shoot him.”

“Is that why he’s wearing a sissy pink bandanna?” Mac asked.

“Yes.” It was neon pink. Highly visible against his black fur. “I’m just asking you guys to give him a chance. Get to know him.”

I made a few calls, checking to see if anyone was missing a dog that looked like a wolf, but no one came forward to claim him.

Briar decided to call him Shadow; the new half-wolf addition to our family had been accepted by the other dogs, mostly. They weren’t too sure about Shadow yet. Stinker loved him. It took a lot of convincing for Millie to let him in the main house.

And as it turned out, he was really good at being a shadow. Briar’s especially. He followed her everywhere, and even slept at the foot of her bed. He really fit well into domestic life, which told me he had to have been someone’s pet before he wandered onto our property.

Didn’t matter. Shadow was a McCree now, and expanding our family of animals and people seemed to be what was in the cards for us. Sometimes I wondered who else would show up, announced or otherwise.

I knew I shouldn’t have been wondering that, because Briar came to me with a surprise.

L
e
xi was coming in for a landing.