Merry Cowboy Christmas (5 page)

Jud poured a packet of hot chocolate mix in each of the mugs. “When did you stop wanting to be that woman? Did you talk to Kyle about it?”

She carefully poured the milk into the mugs and stirred. “I did talk to him and told him that I wanted more time with him. I was ready to start a family and spend more nights at home than out at fancy restaurants or events with potential or existing clients.”

He added a dollop of whipped cream to each and carried both mugs to the table. “And?”

“It was not good. He told me he married a career woman with the top of the ladder always in sight. He didn't want children, not until we were close to forty, and then he only wanted one son. Within six months he handed me divorce papers. I won't make the same mistake twice.”

“Does that mean you don't trust men?”

Her brows drew together. “Lizzy and I had this conversation. I trust men. I'm not sure I trust my judgment yet or that I ever will. I'm scared that if I find some guy who makes me feel all oozy inside and I marry him, I might realize I still want to be that woman with the briefcase and high heels. It happened in the reverse. Who's to say that it wouldn't turn around and happen again?”

He sipped at the hot chocolate. “I got no answers for that one. But I can tell you this is some fine chocolate and it's warming my insides. Do you feel better for sucking down some of that bitter cold wind?”

She nodded emphatically. “I do. When I finish this, I might even be able to sleep. How about you?”

“Hot chocolate is always good after being outside. Mama made it for me and Josie when we were kids after we'd go out and play in the snow. She had a rule. We could go out there and play as long as we wanted but when we came in, we had to stay inside. According to her, running in and out, getting hot and then cold, over and over again would make us sick.”

“Same rule here. Must be a mama thing,” Fiona said.

Was that where she was in her life? She'd gone out to play in the cold and stayed out there seven years. Now she was back in the house drinking hot chocolate. Did that mean she'd have to stay in for the rest of her life?

“You're fighting demons, aren't you?” he whispered softly.

Lord have mercy! Jud's whisper was even sexier than his slow Texas drawl. She'd been thinking about her own life and hadn't given a thought to the insane sparks that passed between them when they were in each other's presence. Then suddenly the brain gears switched and now she wanted to kiss Jud Dawson.

Sure, he'd listened to her. And, yes, it had been over a year since she'd shared a bed with a man. And the way his eyes coveted what his two cousins had with their wives left no doubt that Jud wanted the same. And Fiona wasn't even going to think about the way his whole face lit up when he held Audrey. Oh, yes, sir! This cowboy wanted a wife, children, and a home in Dry Creek. History would definitely, guaran-damn-teed not repeat itself with the third Logan sister.

He pushed the chair back, rinsed his mug, and put it in the dishwasher. “We all fight the demons in our head from time to time. Just stand your ground and don't let them win.”

When he passed her chair, he tipped up her chin and brushed a soft kiss across her lips. “Good night, Fiona.”

“You don't kiss your sister like that, do you?” she sputtered.

“You are not my sister and you've needed a kiss for a long time.”

“How do you know?”

“I'm a Dawson, remember?”

He disappeared into the darkness.

She touched her lips to see if they were as hot as they felt and found them to be surprisingly cool. It was a kiss, not a damn proposal, and it would not happen again.

T
he little white church in Dry Creek had two rows of pews with a center aisle. The side aisles were barely wide enough for a vacuum cleaner between pews and wall, so few people used them. The Logan pew on the left side of the church was full that day with Fiona sitting next to the wall and Jud Dawson at the far end, leaving the two married couples between him and Katy, who sat next to Fiona that morning.

“How long has it been since you've been to church?” Katy whispered as the preacher took his place behind the pulpit.

“I worked seven days a week, Mama,” she answered.

“Then you haven't been in church in a year?”

Fiona grimaced. “That's right.”

“Another reason you should be home.”

The preacher cleared his throat. Straying eyes went forward and those who had been slumping sat up tall and straight. God was not going to find a reason to fault a single person in the church that morning.

“Good morning. I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving in spite of that bad weather.” His deep voice hardly needed the microphone to reach the back pews. “And now it's time to think of Christmas. Since Christmas is on Sunday this week, we will have our holiday program the Wednesday night before, and our usual morning services that Sunday will be postponed until evening. That way all you folks can have the morning with your family.”

He looked down at his Bible and Fiona got ready for the sermon. She would do her best to pay attention since she hadn't set foot inside a church in a year.

“Before I begin, the ladies have said that after our Wednesday night Christmas service we will have a leftover potluck dinner in the fellowship hall. So be thinking along those lines and bring your leftovers to the potluck that evening for some time of fellowship. Please open your Bibles to Matthew 22, where Jesus said for us to love our neighbors as ourselves. Would you hurt yourself? Would you say mean words to yourself? Would you deny yourself food or shelter?”

Fiona drifted away from the preacher's booming voice. She felt someone staring at her from the pew behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Truman O'Dell and his wife, Dora June, both giving her the evil eye. Dora June, God bless all three of her chins, had decided to step in and give her sisters advice since Granny was in a care facility and had damn sure rubbed them the wrong way.

But what in the hell had Fiona done to bring the wrath of the O'Dells down upon her? She'd only been in town three days. Surely a year-old divorce wouldn't be enough to bring out the cross and nails to crucify her. Those two old codgers should be taking in the sermon and thinking of being nice to their neighbors.

“In this upcoming season of love, we should remember to treat our neighbor right, even if they treat us wrong. When our Lord and Savior was on the cross, he asked his Heavenly Father to forgive the people who done that horrible deed to him,” the preacher went on.

Finally, the preacher asked Truman O'Dell to deliver the benediction. The roof came nigh to rising up a good three inches when everyone in the church sighed. Not because the sermon went five minutes over twelve o'clock but because Truman always thanked the almighty for everything from the snow that would bring extra nutrients to the soil, to his goats, to the church building, and the offering that morning. The roast beef in most folks' ovens would be dried up into jerky by the time they got home to Sunday dinner.

Fiona imagined the church roof lowering back into place when Truman raised his head and said, “Amen.” The quietness ended and folks began to talk in low tones as they moved toward the door where they'd shake hands with the preacher. Then they'd brave the bitter north wind to their vehicles and drive like bats set loose from the bowels of hell to get home and save what was left of the dinner.

Somehow Fiona got separated from the rest of the family when Lucy Hudson grabbed her arm and gave her a hug. “Lord, honey, I hate it when Truman gives the final prayer, but I suppose Preacher Lyle was trying to get him to see that he's been a horse's ass the past year.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow.

“You look like your granny Irene when you do that,” Lucy giggled. “Don't tell me your sisters haven't told you about his vendetta against the Lucky Penny. He's strutted around like a peacock talkin' crap about how he'd buy that ranch yet from them when they got tired of hard work and moved away.” Her eyes shot toward the ceiling. “Forgive me, Lord, but it's not judgin'; it's the Gospel truth. Anyway, he's been talkin' bad about the Dawsons ever since they got here.”

“Why?” Fiona asked.

“No one wanted the Lucky Penny, what with its reputation for being so unlucky for anyone who buys it. But Truman wanted it real bad, only he's tighter with his money than a bull's butt in fly season and he was trying to hold out for a better price when the Dawsons showed up and bought it,” Lucy whispered.

“That's no reason to be ugly to Blake and Toby and now Jud.”

Lucy nodded emphatically, the gray bun on top of her head bobbing as if it would tumble off and go flying across the pews. “I know and everyone else in town knows but Truman and about three women. I won't call any names but one of the women is Truman's wife and the other two are her friends. Dora June don't give a damn”—another eye roll to the ceiling and the sign of the cross over her heart—“about the ranch but she's upset because Allie and Lizzy wouldn't listen to them about them Dawson boys. What with y'all's granny in that place with her problems, those three old biddies thought they could step right up and give Lizzy advice.”

Fiona stifled a giggle.

Lucy patted her on the back. “As if anyone could give Lizzy advice, right? After that preacher wannabe broke her heart, she grew a bigger pair than most men in this place.”

The giggle escaped. “Survival causes that.”

“Yes, it does. Anyhow, I'm glad you are home and real happy that you are going to help your mama out in the store. I been worried about her for a while now with all she's got on her plate. I heard you are taking care of Lizzy's books. Would you be interested in taking on some more work in that line? Me and Herman is getting too damn old to keep up with all these newfangled tax laws,” Lucy said.

“We could talk about it,” Fiona replied.

Lucy hugged Fiona again. “I'll come on by and talk to you first of the week, then.”

Allie worked her way through the crowd until he was right beside Fiona. She cupped her hand over Fiona's ear and whispered, “We're supposed to love Truman? God's asking a lot this morning, isn't He? Come with me to the nursery and we'll get Audrey. It's the first time I've left her, but last week she made such a fuss that Dora June and Truman were both giving me dirty looks all during services.”

“Well, if I've got to love Truman and Dora June after the way they've acted, then I guess y'all had best pack my casket full of sunblock because I'm bound for hell,” Fiona said softly.

Allie laughed so loud that several people turned around to stare at her. Fiona didn't care if it was right there in the sanctuary. The scripture said that even David from the Bible was a noisy fellow. He played the musical instruments and danced around rejoicing when he bested his enemies and the good book said that he was the apple of God's eye. So if Allie wanted to laugh in the church house, then by damn she could.

Allie poked her on the arm. “You've been standing next to Lucy too long. That expression on your face looks like her when she's ready to tear into someone.”

Fiona's mossy green eyes went from angry to twinkling in a split second. “I'm hungry and you know what that means.”

“Bitchy,” Allie said.

Nadine grabbed Fiona by the arm. “Hey, girl, I wanted to invite you to the café for Sunday dinner to welcome you back to Dry Creek.”

Allie waved over her shoulder and disappeared into the crowd.

“I should eat with the family. Rain check?” Fiona asked.

“Anytime. Got to get going. I only leave the café for the hour that church services are going on. Mary Jo is working until I get back. She, Sharlene, and I take turns on Sunday so that only one of us three misses church,” Nadine said.

Dora June touched Fiona on the shoulder. “It's good to hear that you are back in town. I hope you are smarter than your sisters.”

Dora June was Truman's opposite. He had a squirrelly little face with small squinty eyes that constantly darted around and a hump in the middle of his nose. But Dora June, now, she was a different story. Not more than five feet tall, she was square built and had at least three chins hanging below a moon-shaped face.

“I always considered Allie and Lizzy to be geniuses,” Fiona said.

The three chins quivered when Dora June shook her head. “In business, they are but, honey, when it comes to men, well, you are the smart one. Where is that husband of yours?”

“Living with his new wife, I would expect,” Fiona said.

Dora June's hand was a blur as it went from Fiona's shoulder to the chubby woman's cheek. “I had no idea. I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you, but I'm fine now.”

“Well, you should steer clear of that Jud Dawson, honey. Show a little more sense than your sisters.”

“Dora June, I think my sisters are the smartest women in the whole county, maybe the whole state of Texas when it comes to men because they are married to men who adore them.”

Dora June quickly changed the subject. “Do you have your Christmas tree up yet? I got mine all done yesterday.” She lowered her voice. “Truman hates it but then he's an old Scrooge when it comes to the holidays. Maybe he would have been different if we'd have had kids but then maybe his attitude is why God didn't see fit to give us any. I'll be seeing you at the store, I'm sure.” She leaned in even closer. “Listen to me. The Lucky Penny isn't kind to the folks who own it. Your poor sisters will wind up having to leave their businesses and move away from Dry Creek. Your mama will only have you left to help her.”

She was gone before Fiona could say a single word. When she finally made it to the door, shook hands with the preacher, and the cold north wind whipped her long red hair around to slap her in the face, her family had gone. All but Jud, who was two people behind her and the last person to shake the preacher's hand.

“Guess we're the last two people on earth,” Jud said. “Good thing I brought my own truck or we'd both be walking a couple of miles.” He looked down at her shoes. “Or maybe I'd be walkin' and carryin' you.”

“Don't fool yourself. I can run as fast in these shoes as you can in those boots,” she said.

“But aren't you glad we don't have to?” He escorted her out across the parking lot with his hand on the small of her back.

Truman drove past them so slow that Fiona could have reached inside and hugged Dora June if the window had been down. Not that she would have wanted to, not as sour as they both looked.

“The gossip will have us sleeping together by morning since you are taking me home and well, you know, your cousins and my sisters, their stories are only going to fuel the blaze of the whole thing,” Fiona groaned.

“Might as well have the game if we're going to have the name,” Jud drawled.

“Not in your wildest nightmares, cowboy.” Fiona pulled free from him and let herself into the truck.

“Now they'll say I'm only sleeping with you. That I'm not even a gentleman who'll open the doors for you,” Jud teased.

“Just drive us home. Small towns!” She folded her arms across her chest and looked straight ahead at the dark clouds rolling into Dry Creek.

“Ain't they wonderful?” Jud started the engine, pulled out of the parking lot, and turned south to go to Audrey's Place. “Didn't you miss it when you were in the big city?”

“I missed family and potlucks but not the gossip,” she answered.

“But that's where the fun is.” His beautiful smile, just slightly crooked on the left side, lit up the interior of the truck. “It makes folks so happy to spread secrets whether they are true or not. The preacher said we should love our neighbors, didn't he?”

“As in food, shelter, and necessities for life, not as in rumors. I don't like gossip, so if I love my neighbor as myself, then I don't have to like their gossip, either,” she argued.

“Am I your neighbor since we are sharing food and all that other stuff?” he asked.

“No, that makes you my roommate,” she said. “A neighbor doesn't live in the house with you.”

“If we considered our bedrooms as our apartments and the landing as the hallway between our apartments, then we would be neighbors. Then you would be heavenly bound to love me, right?” he teased.

“Is that a line you use in bars to pick up women?”

“This ain't no bar and we didn't just have a dozen beers, Fiona.”

“Why do you care if I love my neighbor, namely you? We can share a house without loving each other like it says in the Bible. Lots of married folks do.” She unfolded her arms and held her hands in her lap.

His chuckle was every bit as deep as his drawl. “I like your sense of humor.”

The chuckle developed into laughter. She tried to bite back the smile, but it didn't work and for the first time in months, Fiona laughed until her sides ached. About nothing. About everything. And when he parked the truck beside the others in front of Audrey's Place, she felt freer than she had in more than a year. Not even her therapist had set her soul free like laughing with Jud Dawson over something that wasn't even funny.

For that she owed him.

“For something that wasn't supposed to be funny, that was sure a hoot,” he said.

She nodded, swung open the door, and caught a snowflake on her tongue. The warmth and the buzz of conversation welcomed her into the house. She and Jud hung their coats on the rack inside the door.