Christmas in Montana
Based on the characters and stories of Hawaii Five-0.
Hawaii Five-0 is owned by CBS and their respective creators.
"Mom! Will took my phone again and he won't give it back," Shelby Jo yelled as she stomped through the farm house. Her auburn hair feathered behind her as she sided up to Catherine. "As an American citizen I have the constitutional right to privacy. The fourth amendment says so. Make him give it back!"
With a sigh, Catherine craned her head around the corner and called down the hallway, "William Hart McGarrett, stop torturing your sister and hand over her phone." A satisfied smirk crossed her lips. There was nothing quite as effective as addressing your kid by their full name to put the fear of God in them. Before Shelby turned and walked back down the hall, Catherine cleared her throat, "Remember that having a phone is a privilege- not a right. And your dad and I can see every single number that you call and text." She raised an eyebrow, "Anything you want to tell me before your dad stops by the Palace to see your Uncle Junior and Aunt Tani when we get back? Anything you want to confess in the event that he uses the server at HQ to run your phone?"
Shelby's eyes widened. "Come on, Mom," she whined, "Seriously? You're pulling the spy card to get me to spill all my angsty teenage secrets?"
"I never said they were secrets, much less angsty secrets," Catherine smirked. On occasion she dusted off her interrogation skills to get in the head of her sixteen year old daughter. "I'm simply affording you the opportunity to 'fess up before it's your father asking the questions and not me."
Shelby Jo gave Catherine an award winning eye roll, but was met with a stern look that silently told her to get her attitude in check. "This is so unfair. Normal kids don't have ex-CIA agents for mothers."
Catherine stifled a laugh, "Go complain about it to your dad. He can relate."
"I bet Grandma Doris wouldn't have threatened to run my phone number to get me to tell her that I got asked to the winter formal at school."
And there it was.
Catherine mentally patted herself on the back for her parenting prowess. The CIA really should diversify into teaching civilians how to deal with teens, she thought. Between sixteen year old Shelby and fourteen year old Will, she and Steve had their hands full. Their days were filled with more hostage negotiation than a Friday night procedural drama. "That's great, Shelbs!" Catherine's encouraging smile lulled Shelby into a false sense of security, "Has the boy who asked you to be his date talked to your father yet?"
"Mom…"
She held up a hand and instantly, the whining stopped. "Don't mom me. You know the rules. I'm sure whoever he is is a lovely young man, but he has to meet your dad first."
"But Dad scares the hell out of literally everyone! I'm the only girl in my homeroom who's never had a date for a dance!"
Ah, the woes of teenagerdom.
"Language, young lady," Catherine scolded. "Rules are rules," she reiterated as she closed her book and tucked it back into the bookshelf. The reading nook Steve had built for her had begun to bow under the weight of all the novels she had crammed on the shelves over the years. "Now, go get your phone from Will and go talk to your father. Grab some of those cookies we made last night. That'll help soften him up." She glanced out the bay window, "He's still out in the shop. Better hurry before Gram and Gramps get here. Trust me, you do not want Gram knowing about whoever your friend is."
Shelby huffed and puffed her way outside, trudging through the snow that blanketed the fields in a powdery white. The ranch in Bitterroot Valley had been the McGarretts' escape for years - especially after Shelby and Will had begun puberty. Sure, the kids always grumbled the first twenty-four hours after they had left the islands and were effectively cut off from society, but once the mountain air filled their lungs and the three thousand miles between Montana and Hawaii severed the chains of hormone fueled drama, the complaints subsided.
Catherine padded into the kitchen and poked her head in the oven, checking on the roast that was busy filling the farm house with the enticing aroma of rosemary and garlic.
"Mom, when's supper?" Sensing that the coast was clear from the wrath of his sister, Will popped into the kitchen and hopped up on the counter. "Can I have a snack?"
She snatched the lump of biscuit dough that was already halfway to his mouth out of his hand. "Hands off, buddy. Dinner will be ready in fifteen. You'll survive until then." She patted out the dough and quickly cut twelve biscuits with military precision. Will's hand made another sneaky attempt at grabbing the leftover dough, but Catherine swatted it away.
"But I'm a growing boy," he grinned, "I need to be fed."
That boy, Catherine thought with a smile. He was the spitting image of his father and shared the same mischievous streak. Will was the most polite troublemaker she'd ever met. The resemblance between Steve and Will was uncanny. It was like looking back in time.
Catherine hadn't always felt lucky to have the kind of history with Steve that she did. Knowing him since their early twenties had given them a lifetime to see each other grow and change. Sometimes that was a curse. After their kids were born, she had grown to realize just what a blessing it really was.
"Fine," she tilted her head backwards towards the refrigerator as she arranged the cut biscuits in the cast iron skillet, "Carrot sticks and Ranch are in the fridge. Knock yourself out."
"Carrot sticks? Really, Mom? Pretty sure the prisoners at Guantanamo get better rations than that."
Her raised eyebrow had him quickly backpedaling as she painted the tops of the biscuits with melted butter.
Will snatched the bag of carrots out of the fridge and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. "You're the best and I love you," he said as he retreated to the table.
Catherine suppressed a snicker as she swapped the roast out of the oven and replaced it with the pan of biscuits.
Steve slathered a coat of stain on top of the pair of end tables he had finished. He glanced up and looked over at the bay window that jutted out from the side of the farm house. Catherine had been sitting in the window seat just a minute ago. She was probably getting ready for Evelyn and Tom's arrival, he thought.
He set the paintbrush aside and fitted the lid back on the canister of stain. Rummaging around, he found a hammer and gave the can a few taps before setting it back on the supply shelf. The knock on the woodshop door would have startled him if he hadn't seen Shelby's reflection in the metal paneling of the tool shelf.
"Hi, Daddy," Shelby smiled as she sashayed around the shop. "I brought you some of the cookies me and mom made last night."
Steve unwrapped the paper towel and took a grateful bite. "Gram here yet?" He mumbled as he wiped the cinnamon and sugar off his mouth.
Shelby shook her head, "Not yet." She eyed the end tables and pointed, "They, um… They look really good."
"Alright, lay it on me, kid." Steve finished off the cookie. Sixteen years of his daughter playing mind games with him had made him a little wiser when it came to the ways of the female teenager. "What's, uh, what's up?"
"A guy I really like asked me to this dance at school and I really want to go." Shelby blurted out, ripping off the proverbial Band-Aid. "So… Can I?"
Steve shrugged, "Sure."
Shelby eyed him suspiciously. "Sure? Just like that?"
"Yeah." He reiterated, "Just let me know when he's gonna come by the house and introduce himself."
She groaned, "Dad, it's just a dance and I'll really be spending most of my time there with my friends anyways. We're really just riding together. It's not that big of a deal."
"Okay." Steve nodded, "If it's not that big of a deal, then you won't mind if I have your Uncle Jude stop by too to meet this kid."
"Uncle Jude?! Are you kidding me?" Shelby whined, "Why don't you just throw me in a convent until I'm forty."
Steve cracked a smile, "You'd make a great nun. I bet Gram could sew you a habit by tomorrow morning."
"Dad."
"Shelby Jo."
She crossed her arms, "I'm sixteen. Can't you just trust that you and mom have raised me to make good decisions that not only account for my physical safety but protect my college and career options?"
Steve's eyes narrowed in on his daughter, "Has your mom been teaching you to negotiate again?"
Shelby was a chip off the old block. Blocks. She had Catherine's whip-smart intellect and sharp mouth. She'd make a damn good Naval officer, he had decided. Even though she had protested about Jude meeting her date, Steve knew that she adored him. When he found her researching careers with the CIA rather than filling out a Naval Academy application, he hadn't been surprised in the slightest.
Part of him detested the idea of either of his kids joining the military or working for the government in any capacity. But he saw the way she lit up during the rare moments that Jude and Catherine reminisced about their days in the CIA. She hung on their every word.
"Dad, seriously. You and mom are making a bigger deal about this. It's a school event. We see each other at school all the time already."
Steve crossed his arms, "Orders stand, Ensign. He comes by the house and introduces himself like a man or you go by yourself and have a good time with your friends." He grinned as he slung his arm around her shoulders and flipped off the lights, "Besides, your mom will probably sign me up to chaperone. It'll be great."
Shelby groaned. Just once a bunch of kids from Grace Williams' school get held hostage at a dance and now she's the one paying for it years later. She had the notion that her parents would commission Gram to sew a Kevlar lining into her prom dress if they could. "This is America. We're a democracy. Don't I get a say in this?"
"As I have often reminded you, dear daughter, this family is not a democracy. It's a benevolent dictatorship." A car crunched through the snow as it pulled up to the farm house. "Looks like Gram and Gramps are here," Steve said as they trudged through the slush.
Shelby just huffed.
"You know how much I love you, right?" Steve looked down at her.
She dropped her poker face, leaned her head on his shoulder, and giggled, "You literally tell me like a hundred times a day, Dad."
He smirked, "Good. Then I'm doing it right."
"Mom, I keep telling you that you two don't need to be flying all the way out here at your age," Catherine chided. "We could have come to Texas or you two could just move to the island like we've been trying to get you to for years."
Evelyn patted Catherine on the shoulder before pressing her hand to her cheek, "Darling, just because we've got a little more gray now doesn't mean we're dead! I'm not in a coffin yet and I will not act like I am."
Catherine pressed her fingertips to her eyes, "People at your age are in assisted living homes."
She raised an incredulous eyebrow, "You put me and your dad in a home and we'll wreak havoc on this side of heaven and then haunt you when we croak." Evelyn threatened with a smile as she glanced over and saw Shelby curled up in the window seat, pouting.
"Boy troubles," Catherine filled in, "She wants to go with some kid to a dance but-"
"You want Steve to scare the living daylights out of him first?"
Catherine smiled, "Exactly."
Evelyn cackled, "You just leave it to me, dear. I'm very hip with the kids. I'm practically a teenager whisperer."
"Lord have mercy," Catherine mumbled, shaking her head as she set the table for dinner.
"Hi, Gram." Shelby looked over at Evelyn. Her hair was plaited in a long silver braid. Gram didn't subscribe to the notion that old ladies had to keep their hair short or that old ladies had to act like old ladies. Shelby loved that about her.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite granddaughter," Evelyn smiled as she scooted her way into the bay window.
"I'm your only granddaughter, Gram."
"And as your favorite Gram, it's my job to butt into your business and make it all better." Evelyn patted her knee, "What troubles you, Sunshine?"
Shelby turned back to the window and stared longingly at the mountains that rose and fell out of the earth, "You'll just tell mom."
Evelyn snickered, "And why would I do a silly thing like that? I'm her mother- I don't have to tell her squat! Besides," Evelyn locked eyes with Shelby. Her lips turned into a thin line, "Snitches get stitches." She mimed locking her lips with a key.
"Gram," she giggled, "It's nothing… It's just a stupid dance at school."
"Well if it's something that's important to you then it's hardly stupid." Evelyn cozied into the corner, "Now is this about a young fellow who may or may not have asked you to be his date?" When Shelby huffed, Evelyn smiled, "You don't want to tell him that he needs to come introduce himself to your father, do you?"
Shelby threw her hands up in frustration, "It's not like I'm getting married here! It's just a freaking dance! I don't get why mom and dad make such a big deal out of this stuff! They make such a big deal out of everything! I finally got my driver's license and you know where they let me go? Nowhere. Nowhere!"
"Let me tell you a story about your dad." A wicked smile curled up on Evelyn's mouth, "Now back about a million years ago when your dad and your mom were still in the Navy and had their heads so far up their asses they couldn't see a darn thing-"
"Gram!" Shelby laughed.
Evelyn beamed and continued with her story, "Your mom had been deployed to Afghanistan for a long time and your dad was Lord knows where doing who knows what with the SEALs, and one night she called us up from Kabul and asked if he could join us for a few days over Christmas. Now, Gramps and I had met him a few times before that, but for a long time he and your mom pretended that there was nothing going on between them."
"So what happened when Dad came for Christmas?"
"Well, your dad was about to leave on his own deployment a couple days after Christmas and your mom had just gotten back from hers. For years they just saw each other in passing like that. But the first night he spent at me and Gramps' house, he kissed your mom for the very first time."
Shelby scrunched up her nose and shivered dramatically.
Evelyn laughed, "They tried to keep it a secret, but I've been on this earth for a great many years. I'd like to think I know a thing or two. Especially when two grown adults in the military suddenly start acting all squirrely when I'd walk into a room. Now, they tried to hide it, but the two of them just couldn't keep their hands off each other. They nearly knocked over my Christmas tree when they were making out underneath it!" Shelby's dejected look softened as she laughed. Evelyn patted her knee, "Guess how old they were."
She shrugged, "I dunno. Eighteen? Nineteen?"
"Ha!", Evelyn exclaimed, "Try closer to thirty."
Her eyes widened, "No way. Mom and dad are always so serious. I mean, they were in the Navy."
Evelyn snorted, "Honey, it doesn't matter how old you get. We're all teenagers inside. Thing is, when you're a teenager, it's hard to sort through all those feelings. Hell, when you're full grown it's still hard."
Shelby looked down at her hands and picked at the chipped glitter nail polish, "When does it get easier?"
"It never really does. But you get older. You have more experiences, meet more people. Those experiences become weapons in your arsenal. They help you wade through all the new feelings you have and help you make good decisions when it really counts. And until you have all the weapons you need, it's your mom and dad's job to make sure you don't take on more than you can handle."
"But it's just a dance, Gram."
"To you, maybe," she smiled knowingly, "But to them their little girl is growing up and they just want to make sure you're safe and that the young man is worthy of you." Evelyn smoothed out Shelby's hair, "I bet you're gonna look gorgeous, dear. You make sure to send me some pictures of you in your dress. And maybe one or two of you and that boy if he's man enough to show his face around your father."
"Dad threatened to have Uncle Jude there too," She huffed.
Evelyn rolled her eyes and buried her face in her hands, "Lord have mercy…"
"Hey, Sailor," Catherine smiled as she leaned back into Steve.
He wrapped his arms around her, "Hey, yourself." Steve buried his nose into the crook of her shoulder, "Shelby came out to the shop."
"Did she ask you about the dance?"
"Mhm," He pressed a kiss onto her neck before releasing her and assisting with the dinner preparations. "She's probably not too happy with me at the moment."
Catherine sighed, "So goes parenthood." She hesitated for a minute, "Have you talked to Will about his grades?"
Steve groaned, "I thought you were going to."
"I wasn't the one who lost the bet, remember?" She grinned.
"It's Christmas Eve. Can't it, uh, wait a couple days?"
"Just a quick conversation." She pecked his lips and nodded her head down the hallway, "I'll handle the follow up if need be."
Steve swatted playfully at her behind as he brushed past her, "Ay, ay, Lieutenant."
"Dinner's in ten!" She called out after him.
Steve's knuckles rapped on the door, "Hey, bud." He poked his head in, cautiously easing in as the fatal aroma of a teenage boy still figuring out the proper amount of cologne to use hit him like a freight train. He coughed to clear his throat as the thick cloud of drugstore body spray choked him. "Got a minute?"
Will looked up from his book. His messy brown hair flopped in his eyes, "Is it dinner time yet?"
"Geez, kid. You're getting a haircut when we get back home," Steve stated as he sat down on the edge of Will's bed. "Look, your, uh, your mom and I took a look and saw that your grades aren't doing so good right now."
Will shrugged, "They're fine. I know I gotta keep 'em up for football. It's not a big deal."
What was with kids these days believing that nothing is a big deal? He shook his head, "Not the point, Will. Football comes second, you know that." Steve had the words, but he didn't quite have the music. Truth be told, he was beside himself when Will had started playing for the J.V. football team wearing the number fifty. Seeing McGarrett on the back of a Kukui jersey with his old number had tied him up in knots for weeks.
Steve never missed a game.
"It's not just football, Will. You're in high school now. Your grades matter. I know that college seems like it's a, uh, a ways away, but it's not. You gotta keep your head down and put in the work now 'cause in a year or two you're gonna have to start filling out college applications and to the people reading them, your grades are a big deal."
Will pulled his knees up and rested his forearms on top of them, "I, uh… I'm not going to college. I'm gonna enlist."
Steve blinked once, then twice. Slowly, he inhaled for four seconds, held for four seconds, and then exhaled for four seconds. "You're going to enlist," he repeated, praying that he held a tone of indifference. "How, uh, how'd you come to that decision?" Flashes of fear raced through his mind. The Navy had, for better or for worse, been the pinnacle of his life for decades. He had seen it all. Combat, death, love, pain, life, loss. Was he really ready to send his own child out into that world?
He shrugged again, "I wanna be a SEAL."
"Okay," Steve nodded, "So, uh, you're gonna enlist at eighteen, go to boot camp, apply for BUD/s." He paused, knowing that the conversation could very well go down in flames, "What happens if you don't make it into BUD/s? Forty thousand sailors and officers apply every year and only about six percent even get accepted. Let's say you're one of the one thousand candidates that get accepted and you head to SEAL training. Only one in four make it all the way through. So, what if you don't become a SEAL and you get reassigned to some other job in the Navy? You gonna be happy doing that?"
Will was quiet. His eyes were trained on the blue bedspread that pooled at his feet. Steve squeezed his eyes shut and scrubbed his stubbled jaw with the palm of his hand, silently cursing his innate ability to crush his son's dreams. It had been the first time Will had ever brought up wanting to follow in his footsteps and he squashed it like a bug.
"You made it all the way through." Will looked up at him and for a second, Steve thought he was staring in the mirror. His son's eyes were filled with determination and his jaw was set. "That means you can help me get ready for it... Right, Dad?"
Steve smirked, "Right. But you know, you can still become a SEAL if you're a commissioned officer. You'll have a higher rank. Get paid a little more."
"Really?"
"Yeah, you, uh, you can do ROTC at a university or you could go to the Naval Academy like me and your mom did. And it'll give you a chance to get a degree that way you have something to fall back on when you decide to get out." Steve grinned as he leaned over and gave Will's bicep a friendly punch, "With that arm you could probably play for the Mids and put the beatdown on Army when the big game rolls around."
"You really think I could get into the Naval Academy?"
"No doubt about it. But you gotta get serious about your grades, okay?"
Will tried to act manly and hide his hopeful smile, but the prospect had him giddy. "Why don't you ever talk about it? You and mom- I know you were a SEAL and she was in Intelligence or something before the CIA, but you never tell us about it."
"You know, Will, a lot of buddies of mine- they, they got out of the SEALs, started families, had kids, you know… And, uh, they expected their kids to follow in their footsteps and do exactly what they did." Steve braced his arms against his knees, "After you and Shelby were born, we decided that if you and her wanted to go into the military that we'd support you a hundred percent. But it was going to be your choice. Your mom and I- we, uh, we never wanted you to think it was your only option or that you had to do it to live up to us or something stupid like that. If there was something else you wanted to do, we'd support you a hundred percent in that too."
"Shelby wants to join the CIA like mom," Will blurted out. "I heard her talking to Uncle Jude about it."
Steve grimaced and groaned dramatically, "Yeah, the traitor told me." He sighed, "At least it isn't the Army."
"Okay, what about It's a Wonderful Life?" Steve asked as he held up the DVD box. "It's a classic."
Shelby looked disgusted in a way that only a sixteen year old girl can, "Lame. It's depressing. Let's watch Elf." She looked over at her dad who shared her mischievous grin. They had a habit of teaming up to get their way when it came to movie selections.
Now it was Catherine's turn to grimace, "Seriously, you two? You know I hate Will Ferrell movies. Let's watch The Santa Clause."
"Yes!" Will shouted as he high fived Catherine, "Tim Allen for the win! I'm on mom's side."
"Looks like Gram and Gramps are the tiebreakers," Shelby leaned over the back of the couch, "And you all know that I'm Gram's favorite."
Steve thwacked her with a pillow, "Get in line, kiddo - I'm Gram's favorite."
Catherine sighed with resignation, "It's true. She's always liked him better than me. Even years ago." A wistful smile played across her face. She didn't hold it against Steve or Evelyn one bit. She loved that they had such an easy rapport with each other.
Tom and Evelyn floated into the room carrying two enormous bowls of popcorn, "Oh, hush, Steve. I love you all the same." She paused and winked at Steve who crossed his arms over his chest with a victorious chuckle.
Catherine rolled her eyes, "Mom."
Evelyn snickered, "But if my opinion holds any sway, we'll watch The Holiday."
"YES!" Catherine and Shelby squealed while Steve, Will, and Tom shouted a collective, "NO!"
"Yes, please! Let's watch The Holiday!" Shelby perched up on her knees.
"Okay, okay, let's compromise," Steve pleaded, "Die Hard. Hands down the best Christmas movie ever made."
Will punched his fist in the air, "Yippee-ki-yay motherf-"
"Don't you dare finish that word, young man," Catherine glared. Will immediately clammed up. She sighed, "I can live with Die Hard. Any opposition?"
A collective murmur of positivity arose. Steve fumbled through the movie selections until Bruce Willis's face was staring back at them. Flicking off the lights, he settled onto the couch and pulled Catherine into his lap.
"No PDA!" Will exclaimed as he tossed a piece of popcorn at his parents.
Steve smirked and pulled Catherine in for a searing kiss. Shelby groaned, "Get a room! You two are disgusting!"
Catherine snickered as she pulled away, "Alright, Shipmates. Let's get this show on the road."
"Hey, Sailor," Catherine whispered as she crawled into bed. All was quiet in the farm house except for the quiet sheen of snow that was coating the ground outside in preparation for a white Christmas.
"Hey, yourself, Lieutenant," Steve mumbled. He opened his arms to her and pulled her snug against his chest, "You're up late."
She snuggled up against him and laid her head in the corner of his chest, "I was just talking to mom about Shelby. They had a conversation earlier about that dance. Seemed to have done the trick."
"Your mother is a wizard."
Catherine giggled, "She had plenty of practice with me. I wasn't the easiest teenager when it came to boys. At least Shelby hasn't tried to sneak out of the house after curfew yet."
"That we know of," Steve clarified.
She smirked. Even through the darkness Steve could see her naughty grin. "Oh don't worry. I may have modified the security system at the house just a little bit. Trust me, if one of the kids ever tried to sneak out or in, we'd know about it."
"You scare the hell outta me, Rollins," He chuckled.
Still?"
"Always."
The frigid winter wind bit at Shelby's cheeks, stinging them until they had turned a rosy red. No matter how much you bundled up, Jack Frost's icy fingers still managed to strike. It didn't distract her in the slightest and that made Steve's mouth quirk up in a proud smile.
His voice was low as he crouched down beside her, "Listen to the trees. What are they telling you?"
"Wind's coming in from the east," Shelby peered through the scope of the rife, "It's blowing smooth- not coming in gusts."
"How you gonna compensate for it?"
"Overshoot. The rifle will still be fighting the wind even though it's not that bad. The wind combined with the fact that cold air is more dense and creates more drag on the bullet means I need to overshoot. If it was hot it wouldn't be that big of a deal."
Steve smirked, "Good girl. Take your time." He watched as his daughter's breathing steadied. Her index finger flinched on the trigger, and for a moment, he thought she was going to fire before she had calculated her shot.
But she didn't.
Finally, Shelby inhaled a steadying breath. Her lungs paused and she stroked the trigger.
Steve peered through the binoculars, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Looks like I owe you twenty bucks, baby girl."
"Did I hit it?"
"Center mass from three hundred yards," Steve reached down and offered her a hand up, "You're a damn good shot, Shelby. You could outperform half the boys going through BUD/s right now."
Shelby giggled as she brushed the snow off her knees, "Yeah, but they don't have a former sniper for a dad." Vigorously, she rubbed her hands together trying to warm them, "Gives me a little bit of an edge."
"C'mon, kiddo. You can clean it back at the house."
She broke down the rifle and had it packed up before he had the horses untied. "You been practicing with your mom again?" He chuckled, remembering how impressed Joe White had been the first time he saw Catherine assemble then break down a rifle in just under thirty seconds in the dark.
The memory seemed like it had been ten lifetimes ago. So much had changed.
He looked around at the Montana wilderness and breathed in the mountain air. The snow had picked up again and the tracks they had left riding the horses out to the makeshift range had already been filled in.
Shelby hoisted herself up on the stirrup and swung her leg around to the other side of the saddle, "Ready to go, Dad?" She grinned from ear to ear as she pulled the elastic band out of her hair and let it ribbon into the wind. "Race you back!"
He rarely admitted it to anyone besides Catherine, but hearing Shelby and Will call him Dad slammed into him like a shot to the heart every single time. He never got tired of it. He never not felt the weight of it.
For a long time, he never wanted to admit, even to himself, how much he yearned to be a father. To have a family.
Sure, it hadn't come without its own battles, but nothing worth having ever did.
He snapped the reins and took off after Shelby in a gallop. Fresh fallen snow flung off the horses' hooves as they neared the barn. Shelby hopped down and led her horse to its stall and treated him to a sugar cube from her pocket.
"Aha! Cheater!" Steve laughed as he led his horse in behind her, "So that's how you got him to go fast."
"Bribery works every time! Duh!" She grinned as she unhooked the bridle and saddle and carried them back to the tack room. "I read about using bribery for covert applications in mom's book. Apparently it works well with horses too!"
Steve tripped over his feet at her confession, "You, uh, you read your mom's book, huh?" He asked, praying that he had kept his tone even. The last thing he wanted was to spook his daughter.
"Yeah, uh… I kind of wanted to… You know, since I wanna go to school on the mainland…" She chewed on her lip before she nervously added, "At Georgetown."
He sat down on a bale of hay and patted the spot beside him. Shelby sat down and wiggled up to his side. Steve slung his arm around her shoulders, "Georgetown, huh?"
Shelby looked down at her hands and picked at her chipped nail polist, "Yeah… I wanna get a job at the CIA. I want to be a field agent like mom and Uncle Jude were. If I go to Georgetown I'll be close enough to do an undergrad internship at Langley." She looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, "I know it's like five thousand miles away, but I-"
"You got a major in mind?"
"Applied intelligence with a language minor." Hesitantly, she added on, "Probably Arabic or Mandarin."
A sad smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. He nudged her side, "Well, you, uh, you know if you ever need a tutor for one of those languages you got me your mom, right? I mean, my Mandarin's pretty rough, but your mom- she still dreams in Pashto and Arabic sometimes."
Her eyebrows raised, "Really?"
"Really."
Shelby tilted her head and rested it on his shoulder, "So… you're not mad?"
Steve looked down at her, his brows furrowing, "Mad? Are you crazy? How could I be mad at that?"
She shrugged, "I dunno. I know you guys never bring it up, but I figured you'd want me to go to the Naval Academy like you and mom did."
"Listen to me, Shelby Jo. You're not me and you're not your mom. You're gonna take your own path and make your own mistakes. What your mom and I chose to do with our lives was our choice just like whatever you choose to do with yours is your choice. And as much as having you work for The Company is going to, uh, gonna rid me of my ability to sleep for the rest of my life, I think you're cut out for it."
Shelby flung her arms around his waist and buried her face into his shoulder, "I love you, Dad."
Steve nearly croaked. The words jumbled and died on his tongue. He pulled her close and tucked her head under his chin, "I love you too, baby girl."
Bits of wrapping paper still littered the floor of the farm house from their early morning of gift giving mayhem. No matter how much Catherine vacuumed, she just kept finding more. It was a job she'd finish in the morning, she decided. Evelyn and Tom had retired to their room for the evening and Shelby and Will were still out in the barn finishing up their chores. Farm life didn't care that it was Christmas.
Catherine couldn't be more proud of her and Steve's children. The sleepless diaper changing days had quickly turned into two rambunctious toddlers always running underfoot. Those toddler days flew by and before she knew it, Shelby and Will were in elementary school and then middle school. Now, they had two teenagers who were navigating the insanity that came with nearing adulthood. In the blink of an eye, Shelby would be off to college with Will not far behind.
Shelby was a force of nature. She had all the best parts of Steve. Her drive and determination was unmatched. Her capacity to care for others had Catherine in tears almost daily while her stunning looks had Steve's nerves worn thin. Shelby's affinity for firearms gave him a little peace. That and the fact that she was strong and kick ass and scary as hell like her mother.
Will kept Catherine and Steve on their toes. He had the same boyish, lopsided smirk that Steve had won over Catherine with. Usually adolescent good looks mixed with a brain that was just a little more developed than his peers was a recipe for rebellion. Not Will, though. His natural charm and easygoing personality was infectious. He had never met a stranger. He was the type of kid that made everyone he interacted with feel as though they were the most important person in the world. Steve and Catherine couldn't be more proud. Although he had no biological relation to his namesakes, Will carried the same excitement for life that Freddie Hart and Billy Harrington had.
Catherine rolled the vacuum into the closet and shut the door. She tugged her cardigan around her stomach and peered out the window. Shelby and Will had stopped just shy of the house for an impromptu snowball fight in the glow of the porch light.
Montana was good for the soul.
Somehow, they had managed to give the two of them the life that she and Steve had craved as kids. Two present parents. The ability to grow up without moving every few years. The peace to sleep at night knowing that old enemies wouldn't come after their kids because of what she and Steve had done in their previous lives. Sure, it hadn't happened without their share of struggles and strife, but they'd made it.
Steve's insecurities that he'd be detached like his mother or obsessive like his father had her constantly reminding him that distant parents didn't worry about being distant. The fact that he worried about being present enough was proof that he was just what Shelby and Will needed. There was no one she'd rather navigate the horrors of parenthood with than Steve McGarrett.
Often they had to check themselves and tone down their protective tendencies. The world was a terrifying place. But as Mel had constantly reminded them, it was their job to prepare the kids for the real world, not hide them from it.
Two strong arms wrapped around her from behind as she watched Shelby and Will playing in the snow. She leaned back and rested her head against Steve's chest, "Commander."
Steve's low chuckle was more of a growl as he buried his nose in the crook of her neck, "Lieutenant." He closed his eyes and smiled at the faint notes of coconut and vanilla that always seemed to linger on her skin. "Kids done in the barn?"
"Mhm. They're just playing outside."
"Wanna go join 'em?"
Catherine giggled, "You can if you want, but you'll be going in without backup."
"You're my backup."
She shook her head, laughing, "No, sir. You're on your own!"
"Rollins!" Steve chortled, spinning her around in his arms to face him, "Those two- they're vicious. No way in hell I'm going into battle without you watching my six. Even, uh, even if it is just snowballs."
Catherine eased up on her toes and threaded her fingers through the back of his hair, gently massaging his scalp. "Have a good Christmas?"
"With you- always."
She rested her forehead on his collarbone and closed her eyes, "You know, once upon a time I didn't know if we'd ever get another Christmas other than our first."
"That was a good one," Steve murmured into her hair.
Catherine nodded, "I decided that if that was the only Christmas I ever got to spend with you, that it still would have been worth it."
"You can admit it. I'm a damn good kisser, Rollins." Age had not tempered his libido. Not one bit. "I was back then and I'm even better now."
"And so modest and humble." She added on sarcastically.
"Alright, smartass," He grinned as he slanted his mouth and lingered just a breath away from her lips, "I, uh, I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I got you. Or that we have them. But I'm damn glad that I do." The divot between his brows creased into a deep valley as he shook his head as if he couldn't quite fathom it. "I don't know how I haven't used up my nine lives yet, but if I'm living my last one, this is all I've ever wanted."
Her brows wrinkled as she looked up in his hurricane eyes, "What is?"
"You. Them." Gently, he cupped her jaw and kissed her. After just a few seconds he pulled away. "Us."
Catherine smiled, "Merry Christmas, Sailor."
"Merry Christmas, Cath."
THE END
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Merry Christmas and happy holidays, you lovely readers! However you're celebrating, whatever you're celebrating- I hope it's wonderful!
Let me know what you thought of "Christmas in Montana"! Leave your comments and reactions in the reviews!
If this is the first story you've read of mine, welcome! We're so glad to have you here! I really hope you enjoyed a peek into Steve and Catherine's domestic life. If you're curious as to how Shelby and Will came to be, who the heck Jude is, or maybe what REALLY happened that first Christmas, head back to my profile and start by reading "Throwing Darts". After you've finished that one, read "Pehea wau i ʻike ai i kou makuahine" and you'll get the full story. Trust me- it's worth it.
If you're one of my veteran readers- HI! I MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH! Since I finished writing "Pehea", it's been a whirlwind in my little corner of the world. Mr. Mags and I both got COVID. That sucked. Mostly recovered now. I have started writing the book and holy crap it's a labor of love. Work has been insane. And the holidays add a whole other layer of crazy on top of all of that. I have thoroughly enjoyed my hiatus, but I wanted to take a little time and write you all a H50 Christmas short because you guys have seriously meant the world to me this year!
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I love you all! Merry Christmas!
XO,
-Mags-
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