Merry Cowboy Christmas (16 page)

“Probably couldn't have afforded them if they were on the market,” Fiona said.

“You got that right, honey. Did y'all see that woman in the cart? They're in the store somewhere. I wonder what they've been smokin'?” Lucy asked.

“I don't know but I don't want any of it,” Fiona laughed.

“Oh, I don't know. It might be something wonderful to try.” Lucy winked again. “I got to drag Herman out of the hardware stuff and take him home. We was up here at the hospital for our great-granddaughter. She was born tonight. Mama and baby are doing fine. They named her Dakota. Ain't that the craziest name for a little baby girl that you ever heard. See y'all later.” She waved and hurried off toward another part of the store.

“Aren't you glad we didn't have the beer in the cart?” Jud whispered, his warm breath sending deliciously warm shivers down Fiona's back.

“Yes, I am. She would have told on us for sure.”

“Then we would have had to share with Dora June,” Jud said seriously.

Fiona slapped at his arm, getting another quiver down her spine when her hand brushed against his bare neck. “You are evil.”

“And you are running with me,” he teased.

Brightly colored Christmas lights lit the way back to Dry Creek. Farmhouses that she'd never noticed before and those tucked back down lanes had lights shining out through the huge snowflakes. Decorations had been strung up in the small towns of Holliday, Dundee, and Mabelle. Fiona didn't realize she was humming “Jingle Bells” until Jud started singing the lyrics.

“All these lights put me in the holiday mood,” she admitted.

“Me too.”

“Take the next left onto that farm road. It's a shortcut and we'll get home faster. Oh my! Look at that. Those folks strung lights across the top of their barbed wire fence. I'm glad Mama didn't see it or she'd be shipping more twinkling lights home from Florida or telling me to buy enough to put around all twenty acres of Audrey's Place.”

“Have y'all ever considered selling Audrey's Place?” Jud slowed down and followed her instructions.

“Why would you ask such a thing?”

“Just wondering. It's got the Lucky Penny on three sides of it and the townsfolk…well, some of them don't have a kind word to say about the ranch.”

“Audrey's won't ever be for sale, not in my lifetime. Make a right at the next corner.” For the first time in her life, Fiona felt a stab of guilt about leaving Dry Creek. In the beginning, there were two sisters still in the house. She had no problem with either or both of them inheriting the land and the house because she damn sure did not want it. Now they each had their own place and her mother wanted to retire. That left no one to hold Audrey's down until the next generation came along to claim it…except Fiona.

And I don't want it,
she thought as Jud parked his truck beside Deke's in the front yard.
I don't want anyone else to have it but I've never wanted to live here, so I'm not taking this guilt trip.

“You've got that look on your face again. Like you are fighting with demons,” he said.

“Leaving town in one hand.” She held up a palm. “Dry Creek in the other. Some days one is full of hope and the other one is lacking. Other times it reverses. I think about leaving and I think about staying. Most of the time leaving is the one that is most appealing.”

“And tonight?” he asked.

“Tonight Dry Creek is winning. Tomorrow is another day, though.”

When they pulled up to the Lucky Penny, the house was dark. Jud grabbed the big bag of diapers from the backseat and eased in the front door to leave them in the entryway before quietly locking up and returning to the car.

“I swear, it's colder here than it was in Wichita Falls, and that ground is so slippery that you could ski to work if we lived on a mountain.”

Fiona giggled.

“What's so funny about that?” he asked.

“I'm imagining you in a cowboy hat and boots on skis.”

He shut his eyes before he put the truck in gear and smiled. “Well, I'm imagining you in a hot pink bikini on skis.”

“Silly cowboy.” She swatted at his biceps. “Redheads don't wear hot pink.”

“Oh, honey, in my mind you do and it looks almighty fine.” He wiggled his head but did not open his eyes. “There you go down the mountain slope. Swoosh, swoosh. And the ice and snow is melting behind you because you are so damned hot in that pink bikini. Your hair is blowing in the wind and oh, there's a cameraman taking pictures for me.”

“Did you get too close to that lady in the cart and breathe in some of whatever she'd been smoking?” Fiona asked.

His eyes snapped open and he backed the truck out, turned it around, and started down the lane. “Dammit! Why did you have to replace my beautiful picture with that one?”

“It's late and we've both got to get up early,” she said.

“We still need to put those snow tires on Katy's car. We can pull it over into one of the barns on the Lucky Penny on Sunday and take care of it. You'll drive real careful until then, right?”

“I don't need you to tell me how to drive, Jud Dawson.”

“Says the woman who ran through our barbed wire fence into a tree.” Jud chuckled, taking the sting out of his words.

“Hey now!”

“Aw, c'mon, I'm just teasing you. You're even more gorgeous when you start to get all indignant.”

“Are we flirting?” she asked bluntly. “It's been so long since I did any of that I'm not sure that I wouldn't have to drag out the
Flirting for Dummies
book to refresh my memories.”

“Darlin', you don't need a book. All you have to do is flutter those pretty eyelashes and smile. Here we are. Want to make out in the truck or is it past your curfew?”

She opened the truck door. “No to both. Let's get inside and go to bed.”

“Oh, I do like that idea much better,” Jud said with a wicked grin.

“Rephrase. We should go inside and get some sleep.”

She stepped out into the snow and her feet almost slipped out from under her. So much for slick-soled boots. Very carefully, she made her way from truck to porch and held on to the railing as she went up the three steps. She used her key to open the door, slipped inside, and flipped on the foyer light, then turned around to shut the door and ran right into Jud's chest. He wrapped his arms around her, held her steady until she could get her bearings, and then tipped her chin up with his thumb.

Every fiber in her body wanted the kiss. Every bit of her brain said that she should take two steps back. She listened to the loudest inner voice and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue.

Lord have mercy! Sometime during the fourth long, lingering kiss—or was it the fifth or sixth?—she managed to shuck out of her coat and throw it on the foyer floor.

She was panting when Jud started guiding her backward up the steps. He lost his coat somewhere about the third step and by the sixth one, she gave a little tug on the top pearl snap and revealed a whole bed of soft light brown hair on his chest. Her arms left his neck and pulled the shirt free, then found their way to his muscular back. She'd never known that cold fingers on warm skin could make her forget everything, including her name and where they were.

Her shirt left her body and dropped not far from his on the landing right before she felt the cold bedroom door on her back. Jud pressed firmly against her front, leaving no doubt he was every bit as aroused as she was.

One hand found its way up under her shirt while he drove her absolutely wild when his mouth brushed the tender area right under her earlobe and worked the hooks on her bra. Her hand was deftly managing her belt buckle while the other one tried desperately to locate the doorknob behind her. The bed would be so much more comfortable than wrapping her legs around his waist and having wild sex against the wall.

A door slammed.

Fiona's breath caught in her chest.

Jud laid a finger over her lips.

“Damn kids!” Truman ranted. “Throw their coats on the floor. Leave the lights on and I'll be damned if they didn't leave the door unlocked, too. I bet they came home drunk and tomorrow morning Jud will have a beauty of a hangover. So much for him helping me.”

The lock on the front door clicked shut.

“Guess I'll have to start waiting up for them to be sure things is locked up and we ain't wastin' electricity. Kids today ain't got a lick of sense.”

The lights went out, throwing everything into darkness.

“Dammit! More snow and cold weather makes my bones hurt like the devil. Wonder if Dora June still has any of that liniment she used to brew up when we first married. Hell, no! It burned up in our house if she did have any.”

The kitchen light sent a sliver of illumination up the steps but not much. Fiona giggled and Jud stifled it with a kiss but the mood had been broken and everything was funny.

“It's been a long time since I've been called a damn kid,” she whispered.

He chuckled. “Last time I heard someone say ‘damn kids,' it was a friend complaining that the kids had interrupted a well-planned evening of sex with his wife. I feel like saying ‘damn old people' right now.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So was this a well-planned evening of sex?”

“Hell, no! This was spontaneous, which is ten times better than planned. But now that you've mentioned it, it could be a night of wild passionate sex. The bedsprings could try to keep up with your moans and screams.”

“Yeah, right. What about your moans of ecstasy, cowboy?”

“Want to see who can make the most noise?”

“Good night, Jud.” She grinned.

“Good night, Fiona. See you tomorrow morning if that old fart wants to drop by the store for coffee.” Jud gave her one more parting hug and in a couple of long strides disappeared behind his bedroom door across the hall.

T
he sunshine was bright and beautiful on Saturday morning. It was still cold enough that the dusting of snow that had fallen wouldn't melt except on the major roads where the traffic was heavier, but the sun took away the dreariness.

Either all that natural light or else the idea of a shopping trip the next day put a new spring in Dora June's step. And she talked nonstop all during breakfast. She started with how lovely it was to have a day with few clouds, went on to talk about her party the night before and what a success it was, and then segued into what she would buy when they went shopping the next day.

“A nice new Bible case for Henrietta, don't you think?” She stopped bustling around in the kitchen and wrote something on a list lying on the countertop. “I saw a pretty pink leather one last week with a Bible verse on the front. I think she'd like that. And a doll for Audrey.”

“But, Dora June, Audrey is only a few weeks old.” Fiona finished her breakfast and put the plate in the dishwasher.

“She'll be big enough to play with a rag doll by this time next year. I saw an adorable Raggedy Ann in a cute little gift store at the mall.”

Fiona slipped her arms into her coat and pulled a pair of gloves from her pocket. Suddenly she couldn't wait to get to the store where maybe she'd have a few minutes of peace. “Don't wait on me for supper tonight. I'll probably work late to get the bookkeeping business caught up.”

“And a scarf for Ruby.” Dora June picked up the pencil and waved.

The store was not quiet.

All day long, it bustled with folks coming in to visit around the table. Fiona had made eight big pots of coffee from morning until closing time and had sold six dozen doughnuts in addition to the prepackaged pastries right off the shelf. It had been a wonderful day for the store but a horrible one for catching up on her bookkeeping business.

It didn't matter that the clock above the cash register said that it was ten minutes past five. Six old guys were still gathered around the table discussing politics and the upcoming election while they polished off three more packages of chocolate cupcakes.

She did all the closing chores and swept the floor, but they did not take the hint and leave. Then again, what did she expect? They were men and they were used to women working around them.

“Well”—Herman Hudson finally stood up—“I reckon them cows of mine ain't goin' to drag a big round bale of hay out to the pasture and feed themselves. It'll be dark in an hour even if we did have sunshine today.”

“Guess you heard that the weatherman is callin' for a norther about midnight,” Truman said.

“But no more snow until the middle of next week.” Herman nodded. “Then we're getting one big enough to run last year some competition. Never thought I'd see two hard winters in a row.”

“It's them Dawsons over on the Lucky Penny that's caused all this,” Truman fussed.

“Give it a rest, Truman,” Herman scolded. “They ain't God and that's the only person who controls weather.”

They meandered toward the door, taking their own good easy time, stopping to talk more about the weather and about the hay they'd put up for the winter. When they were finally outside, Fiona locked the door, turned the sign around to
Closed
, and flipped off the light switch.

Time had stood still for the past hour, but when she sat down in front of the computer, it moved much faster. She didn't realize how late it was until her stomach wouldn't be ignored another minute. A quick trip into the dark store netted two packages of peanut butter crackers, a pint of milk, a diet cola, and an iced honey bun.

She nibbled as she worked and didn't look at the clock again until her neck began to ache. Rolling it around a few times to get the kink out, she figured a couple more hours would put her up to date on everything. Then she looked at the clock and rubbed her eyes. Surely it wasn't midnight already, but the clock had no reason to lie to her, so she backed up all her files and shut down the computer.

The old guys had been right about that norther. In some parts of the country they called such a fierce, cold wind a nor'easter but in Oklahoma and Texas it was simply a norther. It hit with a force and dropped the temperatures by at least twenty degrees. Fiona ran from the store to her mother's car, slammed the door against the blasts of icy cold wind, and shivered all the way to her toenails.

Disappointment washed over her when she parked next to Truman's truck in the backyard. Jud's vehicle wasn't anywhere in sight. She'd hoped that they could have a few minutes to talk about the night before. She let herself into the house, made sure she locked the door, and went straight for the refrigerator. Dora June had made fried chicken and there were leftovers. She put a leg and a breast in a bowl and picked up a can of diet cola.

She didn't even turn on the foyer light but made her way upstairs in the dark. Once she was in her bedroom with the door closed, she lit up the room with a table lamp. Then she sat down in the recliner beside the window and bit into the cold chicken. Nothing had tasted so good in a very long time but it didn't take away the yearning to talk to Jud.

Jud was late to church that Sunday morning and slid into the pew right beside Fiona just as the preacher took the pulpit. Nudging Fiona on the shoulder, he whispered, “What time did you get home last night?”

“After midnight. Where were you?”

“At Deke's. I waited until ten for you and then got bored, so I went to Deke's for a beer.”

“Shhhh.” Dora June tapped them both on the shoulder from the pew right behind them.

The preacher cleared his throat loudly. “What do you want for Christmas? Are you thinking about a new car? A trip to a place where it's warm and you can put your feet in the sand? Or are you thinking about peace and happiness…” The preacher went on but Jud didn't hear a word he said.

What did he want for Christmas? For the better part of a year Jud had wanted to be at the Lucky Penny with his cousins by Christmas. He'd yearned to be there when Blake and Toby talked about the improvement they were making, the new baby calves last spring, and even putting up fence in the heat of a Texas July. From the moment he'd driven his truck onto the property a few weeks ago, he'd known peace. But what he truly wanted for Christmas was what his two cousins had. The start of a family and happiness with a woman they loved.

Fiona crossed one leg over the other and brushed his hip in the process. She did not bring happiness to him. Turmoil was more like it—that's what he felt every time she walked into a room.

She was family of family, and the awkwardness of a fling could cause more problems than he could count on his fingers and toes. He told himself for the thousandth time that she would be moving away as soon as she could and he was definitely staying on the ranch of his dreams.

Happiness might not be in Santa Claus's big bag this Christmas, but if Jud could ask for anything, it would be contentment. Fiona's shoulder touched his again when she fidgeted. He shut his eyes and imagined kissing that sweet spot between her shoulder and neck and moving up to taste her earlobe before settling his lips on hers for a series of kisses that left them both panting.

Every song, even “Jingle Bells,” reminded him of her, every snowflake that dropped or cold breath of air he inhaled brought back a visual of her. Just one romp in the hay might put her out of his mind, but then what? Her sisters were married to his cousins and they would be thrown together forever. No, that would never work.

“So what do you want for Christmas?” Deke whispered on his left side.

“Haven't made my list yet. Have you?” Jud said from the side of his mouth.

“A tall blonde full of sass heads up the list or maybe a redhead so hot that she can leave burn marks on my mattress,” Deke chuckled softly.

“Shhh.” Fiona shushed them with a finger to her lips.

Lips.

A stirring behind Jud's zipper reminded him of how much Fiona affected him.

Think about something else other than the taste of those luscious lips. Think about what the preacher is saying. Think about pulling a calf, building fence in August, or drilling a new well.

“And now I'll ask Jud Dawson to deliver the benediction,” the preacher said.

Jud stood and shook the legs of his Wranglers down over the tops of his boots, bowed his head, and said the shortest prayer of his life, thanking God for the day and the holiday season and asking that everyone be blessed with heavenly love, amen. It was not easy to talk to God when his mind was on the woman sitting to his right, looking like a billboard model in that red sweater hugging her curves and the green plaid skirt that barely skimmed her knees.

“I wish you'd do the benediction every week,” Deke said the moment the rest of the folks in the church joined in with a hearty amen. “That was the shortest one I've ever heard, and Blake had to kick me awake to deliver it one Sunday so you can imagine how short that one was.”

Jud clapped a hand on Deke's shoulder. “If I'd been sleeping, maybe I wouldn't have been thinking about things I shouldn't in church.”

“I understand,” Deke said seriously.

Dora June and Lizzy pulled Fiona out into the center aisle and Jud felt as empty as if he'd lost something. But he couldn't lay claim to what he'd never had, so he waved at Fiona as the women headed toward the nursery to collect Allie and Audrey.

Tonight, he promised himself, he would be home in time for them to visit. They needed to talk about what nearly happened Friday night and decide exactly where they stood with each other.

When he turned back around, Deke was gone as well as both his cousins and their wives. Truman was standing at the back of the line looking lost. He stepped out beside the old guy and threw an arm around his bony shoulders.

“Want to get some lunch at Nadine's? I'll buy if you'll keep me company,” Jud said.

Truman's head bobbed up and down. “I wasn't lookin' forward to soup out of a can. Never did like that stuff. It don't taste like Dora June's.”

“Her cookin' sure can spoil a man, can't it?” Jud removed his arm and shook hands with the preacher.

“Yes, it can. She can make something out of nothing when times is tough and she never puts anything on the table that disappoints me. I'm pretty much a lucky man,” Truman said.

The norther that had hit the night before hadn't let up in intensity one bit. The wind whipped through the bare limbs of the mesquite and scrub oak, creating a strange music that said winter had arrived early and the human race couldn't do a thing about it.

“Colder'n a mother-in-law's kiss out here, ain't it?” Truman pulled his lined denim jacket tighter across his chest with one hand and used the other to keep his cowboy hat from flying south with the other.

“Ain't never had a mother-in-law. Are you speakin' from experience?” Jud laughed as he shortened his steps so Truman didn't have to run to keep up.

“Hell, yes. Dora June's mama hated me when we married and then when she found out it was my fault we couldn't have kids that put the icin' on the cake. Her last words to Dora June was that she wished she'd married someone else.” Truman didn't waste a bit of time getting inside Jud's truck.

“What are you doing this afternoon?” Jud asked. “Want to play some dominoes while the girls are out shopping?”

Truman cut his eyes around at Jud. “You want to lose your money?”

“What are we playing for? If you are that good, maybe we'd best play for pennies.” Jud contained the laughter but it wasn't easy.

“Quarters,” Truman answered. “And I'm really good.”

“Quarters, it is. Maybe I'll win back enough to pay for our Sunday dinner.”

Truman chuckled for the first time since Jud met him. “I wouldn't count on it, son.”

Jud wanted to do a fist pump and maybe even a little touchdown dance when Truman called him son but he kept his composure. They snagged the last table at Nadine's café, hung their jackets on the back of their chairs, and picked up a menu from the center of the table. Truman looked at it for less than a minute and put it back between the salt and pepper shakers and the napkin dispenser.

“Hey, boys.” Sharlene set two glasses of water on the table. “What'll it be today?”

“I'll have the liver and onions special with mashed potatoes, corn, and an extra biscuit. Sweet tea and save me a piece of coconut cream pie,” Truman said.

“And you?” Sharlene asked Jud.

“I'll have a bacon burger basket with gravy on the side for my fries.”

“Sweet tea?” Sharlene asked.

“Yes, and save me a bowl of Nadine's blackberry cobbler with ice cream on the top,” Jud answered. “I expect we'll both want a cup of coffee to go with dessert, right, Truman?”

“Sounds good to me.”

A cowbell sounded at the back of the store and Sharlene hurried off to pick up an order to deliver. Truman tucked an oversized cloth napkin into his collar and spread it out over his chest. Jud opened his napkin and laid it on his lap.

“I wanted kids,” Truman said bluntly. “It broke my heart for Dora June when we found out we couldn't have any. I told her she could leave me even though that would have killed me, but she said that she'd married me for better or worse.”

“Is that when you bought the goats?” Jud asked.

A sad smile turned the corners of Truman's mouth up. “Dora June said they were her kids. We've had a little herd for years and she'd sit out there in her lawn chair in the spring when the babies are little and laugh at them rompin' around and headbuttin' each other. I always liked the sound of her laughter. It's like bells ringin'.”

Jud sipped at his water and waited.