Cowboy Boots for Christmas (10 page)

“Hey, I have to go into Gainesville for a load of feed. We can go right after our workout,” Finn said.

“I thought we had a workout last night,” she moaned.

“That was a mission. We still have PT.” He grinned.

“Anyone tell you we’re not in the military anymore?”

“Couple of times, but it didn’t keep me from staying fit. I’m not forcing you to work out, Callie. You were up all night. Go on back to bed and catch a few hours of rest,” he said.

“Hell if I will. I ate three of those doughnuts, one last night and two for breakfast. I’ll be ready when you are,” she said. “Will we have time to stop by a Western-wear store or a tractor supply where they sell work coats?”

“Sure. Does Martin need a new coat?”

“His will do until Christmas. It’s a little short in the arms, but it will last a few more weeks.”

The quick shower hadn’t done nearly as much as a soak in a tub of hot water to help her tight muscles from the workout that morning, but if she got into the tub, she would fall asleep and not wake up until evening.

So she trudged into her bedroom, pulled a vinyl bank bag from under a stack of underwear, and removed a hundred dollars. She filed it neatly in her wallet and put her jacket on before she slung her purse over her shoulder.

“That didn’t take long,” he said.

“The mission takes top priority.”

“And that is?”

“Buying a coat so I don’t freeze my ass off when we’re feeding cows or fixing fence in the middle of the night because two women are fighting over you.” She bent against the wind and took off in a jog toward the truck. She was halfway across the yard when her feet went out from under her, and strong arms caught her as she grasped for anything other than snowflakes to break her fall.

“Whoa, darlin’,” Finn drawled.

One second she was about to land on the ice, the next he had pulled her up to a standing position and held her to his chest. She could feel his heart beating beneath all those tight chest muscles and hoped that he attributed the extra thump in hers to almost falling.

He traced her jawline with the back side of his fist, opening up his hand when he reached her lips to outline them with his calloused forefinger. She hung in limbo for his next move, wanting him to kiss her so bad that she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue.

His blue eyes bored into hers, unblinking, going all dreamy and soft as thick dark lashes fluttered shut and rested on his high cheekbones. Then his lips met hers in a long, lingering, passionate kiss that made her knees go weaker than ever before. His big hand held her head firmly as he deepened the kiss.

Forget the damn coat. All he had to do was kiss her about every two hours and she could run through the snow naked as a newborn baby and not even feel the cold.

“Guess we’d best get going,” he said hoarsely.

“Guess so,” she whispered.

He kept a firm grip on her arm as he got her settled into the truck.

“You need some boots, too. Those sneakers ain’t worth a damn in this kind of weather. At least let me buy you some rubber boots,” he said.

“I have money, Finn. I can buy what I need, and right now these shoes work just fine,” she told him. Dammit! She wanted to talk about that kiss, not boots and coats.

When he started the engine, the DJ’s voice filled the truck. “It’s only twenty-three days until Christmas, folks. Have you started your shopping? The weatherman is agreeing with my grandpa’s almanac that this is going to be a tough winter, so drag out the horse-pulled carriage because some of the back roads could get too slick for cars and trucks. And now five of your favorite Christmas songs performed by your favorite country artists. At the end of the five for five, the fifth caller who can tell me all five singers in order will receive a ten-dollar gift certificate to Buster’s Western Wear in Gainesville, Texas.”

“Is that where we’re going?” she asked.

“I have no idea. Only been to Gainesville a couple of times, and that was traveling through—not going into—town. I know where the feed store is, but we’re on our own for shopping,” he answered.

“Suzy Bogguss,” she said.

“She’s got a Western-wear store here?” Finn asked.

Callie pointed at the radio. “No, that’s Suzy singing ‘Two-Step ’Round the Christmas Tree.’ I like this song, and we’d probably get a better deal at the tractor supply or a feed store. Most of them carry work coats.”

***

Callie moved her shoulders to the beat of the music and sang along with the lyrics, asking if you’d ever seen Santa in cowboy boots two-steppin’ around the Christmas tree.

Finn chuckled. “When I was a little boy, Grandpa O’Donnell would dress up as Santa, but he always wore his cowboy boots. He’d grab Grandma after he’d handed out the presents, and they’d dance around the tree. She’d pretend to be embarrassed and say that Grandpa would be mad if she danced with another man even if it was Santa Claus.”

“Tanya Tucker,” Callie said when the next song started.

“‘Christmas to Christmas,’” he said. “This is one of my mama’s favorites.”

Tanya sang about having someone to watch each Christmas come and go with, and then the lyrics continued with “love is always in season.”

“Oh, hush,” he muttered.

“You talkin’ to me?” Callie asked.

“No, ma’am, I’m arguing with myself,” he answered honestly.

“Do that often?”

“More than I like to admit.”

“Well, I do every day. Be careful about answering that voice in your head. Some folks don’t understand us, O’Donnell.”

“So I’m O’Donnell instead of Finn?” he asked.

“We’re complicated. We started out as partners, and we will never be able to get away from that. Then we were friends, and now I’m not sure what we are, but sometimes we’ll always be O’Donnell and Brewster, like when we’re doing our morning workout. Sometimes we’ll be Callie and Finn. And sometimes…” She paused.

“We’ll be darlin’ but never honey?” He grinned.

“You understand perfectly, just like I knew you would.” She nodded.

She’d been right. The feed store had a section of work clothing, and that’s where she headed while he told the clerk what to load up in the big black truck parked right out there in front.

It didn’t take her long to pick out a mustard-colored work coat and carry it back to where Finn had found the small boot section. “Looking at boots always reminds me of Christmas. That’s when I got a new pair and got to relegate my old ones to the utility room for work boots. Unless they were too little, and then Mama polished them up and passed them on down to brothers, sisters, or cousins, in my case, since I was the youngest in the family.”

He picked up a pair that looked about right for Martin and inspected them. “These look like some good sturdy boots that might last through two or three boys.”

“I said no,” she told him.

“A person gives what they want to give for Christmas, and I want Martin to have a pair of nice boots for Sunday. A rancher is known by his boots,” Finn said.

“So is a cowboy.” She made a beeline for the checkout counter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He was only a step behind her. “I understand why you don’t want to have a relationship with a cowboy, since that’s what kind of men your sister was drawn to all the time, but what’s wrong with Martin having boots?”

“What if Martin acts just like his father, who didn’t stick around? I won’t encourage him to be a cowboy.”

Finn laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not all genetics, Callie. Environment does play a role. And besides, he’s just a little kid. A pair of new boots isn’t going to make him fall in love or get a girl pregnant.”

She laid the coat on the counter, and the cashier rang up the price. Callie handed her the hundred-dollar bill and she counted back less than three dollars in change.

“Don’t bother with a bag. If you’ll remove the price tags, I’ll just wear it out of here,” Callie said.

The lady snipped a couple of strings, tossed the tags in the trash, and handed Callie the sales receipt. “It really is cold out there. You looked about half-frozen when you came in here. Do they not have northers where you come from?”

“Not so much, and my last job just required that I get from car to office or from car to apartment. I didn’t have to be out in it when the north wind decided to get serious,” Callie answered.

“Well, that coat will keep you warm. You need gloves?”

“Not today,” Callie said. The cheapest pair of leather-palm work gloves cost a hell of a lot more than two dollars and fifty-seven cents.

“Yes, she does. Those right there.” Finn pointed at an expensive leather pair as he pulled out his wallet. “And give me a pair of the cheaper ones in a size small. Don’t look at me like that. I’m just protecting my interests. If your fingers get frostbit, I won’t even get any cookin’ out of you. And I’m not taking Martin out in the weather another day without decent gloves.”

“Take the cost of both pairs out of my Friday night paycheck,” she said.

***

“Want a burger or a taco or maybe we could stop by the pizza bar on the way home?” he asked when they were in the truck.

“A big old greasy hamburger sounds great,” she said.

“Remember the ones we used to grill on that little hibachi thing over in Afghanistan?”

“I’d shut my eyes and pretend we were eating them next to a lake in Texas rather than over there in that place,” she said.

“Was it hard for you to fall back into civilian life?” Finn asked.

“Martin was a newborn baby when I joined the army,” she answered.

“That’s not what I asked,” Finn said.

“I’m getting around to the answer,” she told him. “He’d just finished kindergarten when my enlistment was up and he came to live with me. I don’t think I ever had the time to adjust to civilian life. Everything was thrust upon me so fast that I just had to endure, not adjust. I missed the army. I might have considered reenlistment, but you were already gone, and I didn’t want another partner. Besides, Martin needed me.”

“You missed the friends you made. For the first time in your life you had good friends who had your back, Callie. That’s what you really missed.”

She couldn’t tell him that the real reason she wanted to go back into the army was because she missed him and that the reason she didn’t reenlist was because she knew he wouldn’t be there.

“I started getting moody a couple of days ago. I think it’s what my sister had. Do you think I’m bipolar or something, Finn?”

“Hell no! I get the same moods. It’s got something to do with what we did and our jobs over there. Last year I went on a monthlong cattle drive. It was a trial run for that new Chisholm Trail reality show on television.”

“You are part of
that
O’Donnell family?” She jerked her head around to stare at him. Yes, he did look like the boss on the trail drive. What was his name? It was strange sounding. “Dewar,” she muttered.

“My cousin.” Finn smiled. “By the time it was over, I figured out that I was just hunting for an escape, thinking that it would cure all my nightmares and somewhere out there was the perfect place where there was peace. Took me awhile to realize that the peace has to come from within. It’s not a place and no one else can bring it to you. You got to do that for yourself.”

“And?” she asked.

“I decided to find a ranch that felt right. I looked at dozens, but when I drove down the lane at Salt Draw, it felt right. You know the rest,” he answered. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that when you come up to that fence that separates you from the grass on the other side, you got to look around in your own pasture and realize that what you’ve got is just as good as what’s between the fence and the road or the next ranch over.”

“Then why are you still hanging on to your anger at Lala?” she asked bluntly.

He braked so hard that the truck slid several feet before it came to a halt. He turned around in the seat and stared at her for several seconds before he opened his mouth. “What makes you say that? I’m over her. It’s been more than two years, for God’s sake.”

“You trying to convince me or you, O’Donnell?” she asked.

“That’s not a fair question.”

She shrugged. “You don’t have to answer it, but you do need to face off with it and get the thing over with. I know you, and there’s a little bit of something holding you back. I think it’s Lala.”

“It’s not easy to know that I was played for a fool,” he finally whispered.

“Guess we’ve both got a lot of baggage, don’t we?” she said.

He eased his foot over to the gas pedal and started back down the curvy, twisting road toward Burnt Boot. “Yes, we do, but O’Donnell and Brewster can take out the enemy together, can’t they?”

A dozen deer stood in the pasture right across the fence. The big buck held his head proud and tall, antlers gathering snow as he watched over his harem.

“Isn’t he majestic?” She turned around so she could keep an eye on him longer.

“Not as majestic as you look in that coat,” he said.

“It’s a work coat, for God’s sake, Finn, and that’s a horrible pickup line.”

“Just stating facts. I always liked you in camo with just those pretty eyes of yours peeking out, but a rancher woman, now that’s just about the sexiest thing I’ve seen you in,” he said.

“Well, then I’ll have to save my money and buy a pair of Carhartt coveralls. I bet you’d really go wild if I got all dressed up in them. But don’t hold your breath. I still don’t like ranchin’.” She laughed.

He chuckled. “Don’t hold me responsible for what might happen if you put on a pair of coveralls. Hot damn, Callie! That would be too much for my poor old heart to take.”

“You mean you might kiss me again?”

“Oh, honey, all you’d need would be a pair of boots and I’d do more than kiss you,” he teased.

“Finn O’Donnell, you are full of bullshit. We were going to stop and get something to eat, weren’t we?”

“I figured we’d get a burger at Polly’s place in Burnt Boot. She makes the biggest, greasiest ones I’ve ever eaten. If we unload the feed first, we could sit up to the bar and eat it, drink a couple of beers, and then pick Martin up at school. And we’re past those deer. I was afraid there would be a stray fawn and you’d want to take him home and name him Bambi. The way you are about strays, you’d want to keep him in the house.”

“Yes, I would. Poor little thing. I bet Angel would just love him,” she said. “I have no doubt you would be the one bringing a stray fawn home, and you’d keep it in your room. So don’t tell me I’m guilty of hauling strays to the farm when you’re just as bad. Now drive on back to the barn, and I’ll help unload this feed. I’ve got a brand-new coat, so I won’t freeze to death. And with two of us working, we can go to Polly’s faster. That burger and beer is sounding better every minute.”

He pulled the truck right into the wide doors of the barn, got out, and tossed the bag with the two pairs of gloves in it at her. “I don’t turn down any kind of help, and if I’d known you were going to offer, I’d have bought you a stocking hat to go with the gloves. And about that deer, you’re probably right.”