The truck was big and shiny and red, with gleaming bumpers and a line of silver chrome running along the sides. The front winch was new, so new that Morgan suspected Gus had justhad it installed. The spotlights and running lights on top of the truck’s cab battled for importance with the four large snow tires, with knobby treads built to plow through any snow or ice. The running boards just made it that much more special.
The engine was very growly, which Morgan could hear as he came out into the parking lot, shivering without his coat.
“Put it right up next to the building,” Morgan said. “We can park the other vehicles in front of it, and then it can be driven out.”
The ranch hand did as he was asked, one hand on the wheel, giving Morgan a sassy smile as he turned off the engine. Then, as the ranch hand got out, stepping down from the running board, other folks began showing up, and together, Morgan and Gus directed the cars as to where to park. Owen had brought Mabel and her four bridge-playing friends, then remained with them, not only to take them all home again, but to join in the fun.
“Where’s Mister Rocket?” Morgan asked Mabel, going up to her.
“I left him at home,” Mabel said. “Though he would have loved to be here, he would be so excitable he’d be a distraction from Jack’s surprise.” She smiled sweetly, and Morgan was glad they’d made up and were friends again so they could do this for Jack, whom they both loved.
Everyone he’d invited came. Everybody, and then some, even folks he didn’t even recognize. The coffee boys hustled their large box of pastries inside, and then came out to stand with the growing crowd of folks happy to participate in the fun of giving a gift, for no reason other than that Morgan wanted to. Christmas wasn’t for weeks. Jack’s birthday wasn’t till April. That didn’t matter. Later would not do. Now was good. Now was very good.
“Stand in front, in a group,” Morgan said, shrugging on his coat that either Julian or Shane had brought out to him. “Act like I won’t let you in. Jack’ll think I’m grumpy, and that’ll distracthim.” He pointed at Gus’s ranch hand, a young man with a fox-sharp face and silver-blue eyes. A bit of blonde hair that poked from beneath his tuque. “What’s your name, sir?”
“Ty,” he said. “What do you need?”
“I need you to hop in that truck and wait till I give you the signal.” Morgan raised his hand and pointed at the sky. “Like that. Then start up that engine, all growly and powerful, and drive the truck into this clear spot here. Then leave it running and get out. Leave the door open, like an invitation. Okay?”
“Yes, sir,” Ty said.
Zipping up his coat, Morgan settled himself with a long breath. Then he pulled out his phone and texted Jack.
On your way?
Yep. Just leaving.
It was one minute to ten o’clock. The drive from the market usually took five minutes. The clouds were lowering in a hurry, twisting into gray and white swirls. The temperature was dropping fast. They were going to cut it fine.
In half a heartbeat, Jack came rolling into the parking lot of the feed and grain. Bless its heart, but Aunt Oralee’s truck looked like a moth-eaten rust bucket, with its balding tires and an obvious problem with its suspension, at least compared to the shiny newness of the red truck.
After Jack parked the truck and turned off the engine, he looked puzzled as he got out, as though wondering why there were no spots closer to the front door, like there usually was.
Then he saw the crowd of people and hurried over.
“What’s going on?” he asked, then he hugged Mabel. “Hi, Mabel. Why aren’t you inside? It’s getting cold.”
“They all want to come inside,” Morgan said in his best I’m-on-my-last-nerve voice. “All of them at the same time.”
“We can make more coffee,” Jack said, and in his eyes was an earnest desire to fix whatever was wrong before Morgan got himself into trouble by saying something rude. Saying it loudly.
Morgan hated to think that Jack had ever had to worry about him behaving badly simply because he was out of sorts. He’d turned over a new leaf, and he was going to keep it that way so he never had to see that expression on Jack’s face ever again.
“Hey,” Morgan said. He tugged on Jack’s sleeve to pull him closer. “I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” Jack asked, the happy rise in his voice telling Morgan that Jack was already pleased no matter what it turned out to be. Just one of the reasons Morgan loved him so much. “Where?”
Morgan pointed a finger to the sky. A growly sound rose in the cold air. Jack’s eyes widened as he looked around. The group of people, which numbered near thirty, stepped back as Ty drove the bright, shiny, and powerfully red truck into the clear space right in front of the front doors and parked.
Jack could hardly look at it, and he turned to Morgan as though something were dreadfully wrong. WithMorgan. Because he was more focused on Morgan than anything else.
“This is for you,” Morgan said.
Ty got out of the truck. He left it running, left the door open, like an invitation, just as Morgan had asked. The people from town, the ones Jack knew and the ones he didn’t, all sighed in unison, a low, soft hush of delight.
“What is?” Jack asked.
“The truck,” Morgan said, pointing. “That truck.”
