Wish Upon a Cowboy

by Jennie Marts

  He set the cups on the edge of the fender and poured cocoa into each, then reached back into the storage box and brought out a small bottle of peppermint schnapps. “You want yours leaded or unleaded?”

  “Leaded, please.” She rubbed her gloved hands briskly over her arms and stamped her feet as she watched him pour a splash of schnapps into each cup and swirl it around.

  He passed her a cup, then held his up for a toast. “To your first Christmas-tree-cutting adventure.”

  She clinked her cup to his and took a small sip. The drink was hot and rich, and the alcohol warmed her chest. She took another swallow. “That’s good.”

  He grinned and drained his cup, then pulled a saw from the storage box. “You ever used a bow saw?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, you’re about to because you’re going to help cut this tree down.”

  She peered over the storage box lid. “Geez, you’re like Santa Claus and his bag with this storage box. What else are you going to pull out of this thing?”

  “You never know what kind of tricks I’ve got up my sleeve,” he said with a chuckle, then pointed to the section of trees. “You’d better go over there and start searching for a tree.”

  She took the last swallow of her cocoa and passed the cup back to him before turning to the trees. A sense of giddiness filled her chest. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the magic of the forest, the surreal feeling of being here with Logan, or the booze. But whatever it was, she wanted to laugh and play in the snow and throw her arms around the beautiful trees.

  A giggle bubbled in her chest at what Logan would think if she actually hugged a tree. Better just to point to the one she thought looked good. Her steps were light as they wandered among the trees. “How do you pick? They all look so beautiful.”

  “Sometimes the tree picks you. I think you’ll know it when you see it.”

  They stepped between two trees, and Harper caught her breath. “That’s it.” She pointed to a full evergreen that stood about six feet tall. Its sides were symmetrical, and the boughs were full and lush and bent almost to the ground. “It’s perfect.”

  Logan studied the tree. “I think you’re right. This looks like a pretty good one. It’s a Douglas fir, so its needles are nice and thick, and it’ll smell great in the house. I think it’s an excellent choice.”

  “But how am I supposed to cut this thing down?” She dropped to her knees and lifted the lowest bough to peer at the trunk, then gasped at the three pairs of chocolate-brown eyes that stared back at her. “Oh, Logan, come down here. You’ve got to see this.”

  He crouched next to her and peered under the branch at the three small bunnies cuddled together against the trunk. “Those are mountain cottontail. Looks like a mama and a couple of kits.”

  “Oh my gosh, they’re so cute.”

  “They are. But they’ll move when you stick the saw in there.”

  She gasped. “I’m not sticking the saw in there.”

  “Then how are you going to cut down this tree?”

  “I’m not. I’ll pick another tree.” She dropped the branch. “I’m not going to be responsible for kicking a mama and her babies out of their home in the middle of winter. I’m not a monster.”

  He chuckled. “Okay. You’d better pick another one then.”

  She stood shakily to her feet. Apparently a little peppermint schnapps went a long way on an empty stomach.

  Logan caught her arm as she swayed into him. “Whoa there. You all right?”

  She stared up at him, need and desire swirling in her chest as she thought how easy it would be to press her lips to his, to pull him down in the snow and climb on top of him. Or lie under him.

  The alcohol urged her on, seductively whispering to her to kiss him.

  Chapter 17

  It would be so easy. Do it, the schnapps insisted.

  “I’m fine,” Harper whispered, leaning closer and staring at Logan’s mouth. She parted her lips in anticipation, then…a loud hiccup bubbled out of her. Oh. My. Gosh. She pressed her hand to her mouth, her eyes widening as she tried to hold in a burst of embarrassed laughter.

  Logan’s face broke into a grin, and he laughed with her. “Maybe you should have gone with the unleaded cocoa.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have drunk spiked cocoa on an empty stomach.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t be trusting you with an ax.”

  Maybe I shouldn’t be trusting you with my heart.

  The thought popped into her head, and she sent up a silent thank-you that she hadn’t blurted the words aloud. But they were true. She was falling for this man. And she didn’t do “falling.” She did “running” and “avoiding” and “locking” her heart up tight. So what was she doing in the middle of the forest fantasizing about kissing him in their own private wintry snow globe?

  It had to be the alcohol. It was making her soft. Yeah, right. Well, that was her story, and she was sticking to it. But she needed to get her brain off thinking about his lips and how strong his arms looked holding that ax and how they would feel wrapped around her. Crud. She was doing it again. Dang that peppermint schnapps.

  She turned her head and peered around, anything to avoid looking at his chiseled jaw and his amused blue eyes. Her gaze lit on another tree, and she pointed to it. “How about that one?”

  Logan followed her finger and examined the tree. “This one looks pretty good.” He took a few steps toward it and crouched down to look at its trunk. “And no family of bunnies living underneath it.”

  Harper walked around it, but she shook her head when she spied a bird’s nest tucked into its branches. “Nope. This one won’t work either. It’s got a nest in it.”

  Logan stepped behind her and peered over her shoulder. “I don’t know if a bird’s living in it now. It looks empty.”

  “But they might come back to it and find their home is gone.”

  Damn. Why did everything have to be a reminder of the situation with her son? Even the simple act of cutting down a Christmas tree.

  She glanced around at the other trees. “Maybe we need to find a different kind of tree. These Douglas firs are gorgeous, but the animals seem to really like them too.”

  A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Okay, no more Doug firs. So, you’re looking for an uglier tree?”

  “Not necessarily uglier, but maybe one not as pretty. Like with the branches more spread apart so we know that an animal would be less likely to be living in it.”

  Logan chuckled as he strode through the snow and stopped at a homely-looking tree that wasn’t quite as tall as him. “How about this semipathetic creature? Its needles are sparse, and the branches have plenty of space between them so you can clearly see no woodland creatures are living in its boughs. It’s a ponderosa pine, otherwise commonly referred to as a Charlie Brown Christmas tree.”

  His tone was sarcastic, but Harper loved it. “It’s awful. And perfect. It looks like it needs a good home. Let’s take it.”

  “Wait. I was just kidding.” He gestured around the forested area. “You have a zillion other gorgeous trees to choose from. You don’t need to pick this one just because you feel sorry for it.”

  She offered him an impish grin. “Oh, but I didn’t pick it. You did. I’m just agreeing with your excellent choice.”

  “What? No, I didn’t pick it.” He paused and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Aw hell. I guess I did pick it. But I’m amending my choice. I’m electing to choose any other tree in this forest.”

  “No take backs.” She laughed as she nudged his arm. “You already picked. And I think it’s a fine choice.”

  “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

  “Maybe you haven’t had enough,” she teased.

  “I don’t know if there is enough drink to make this sad tree look good.”

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nbsp; Harper chuckled again and held out her hand. “Pass me the saw.”

  Because the tree wasn’t very big, the trunk wasn’t too tough to saw through. Logan only helped with the last bit. They shook the snow off, then dragged the tree back to the quad, where he secured it to the toboggan, strapping it in with some rope and a bungee cord.

  He brushed the snow from his pants as he stood and offered her a roguish grin. “You ready to head back, or should we have another hot cocoa cocktail before we go?”

  Harper shook her head and peered down at the tree. “I think we’ve made enough cocoa-cocktail-induced decisions for the day. We’d better head back.”

  The sun had gone down, and the forest had an ethereal quality as they made their way down the mountain and through the trees. Harper laid her head on Logan’s back and let out a contented sigh. A tingling warmth filled her body, and she was pretty sure it didn’t have anything to do with the schnapps.

  * * *

  Two hours later, they had the tree up and a slew of decorations dispersed around the room. Harper had helped Logan carry several Christmas boxes up from the basement, and then she’d put together sandwiches while he had fit the tree into the stand and strung it with lights.

  They ate while they decorated the room and the tree, laughing as Logan told stories of past holidays and shared the meaning behind different ornaments and decorations.

  Harper loved listening to him talk, loved the way his face lit up as he shared some crazy thing he and his sister had done with their dad or with the James brothers next door. She heard him say many times that his dad was a rough, gruff cowboy, but listening to Logan tell the story about the year Ham drove them all the way to Denver to see a special display of lights at the zoo and the time he filled in as a shepherd in the church play when the original shepherd came down with the flu told her the older cowboy might not be quite that tough. Especially when it came to his kids. It was obvious in the way Logan talked about his dad that he respected and admired him.

  Harper shared a few stories from when she was growing up, but she mostly listened, content to hear Logan talk. Every time he laughed, it sent a funny shiver of heat coursing through her.

  Yeah, she could fool herself into thinking she didn’t do “falling,” but she was definitely doing a slow sink.

  “Well, we did it,” he said, placing the star on top of the tree. “This is the last one.”

  “And no woodland creatures were harmed in the making of this tree,” Harper teased, coming in from the kitchen with two mugs of cocoa in her hands. “Sorry, it’s unleaded,” she said, handing him a mug, and they grinned like fools at each other as they each took a sip.

  “It’s still good.”

  “It’s my grandmother’s recipe.” Harper sighed, a wistful smile curving her lips. “She would have loved all of this. I thought fixing her cocoa might make it feel like she was here with us in spirit.” Her grin turned sheepish. “Although after the goofy way I acted this afternoon, I’ve probably had enough ‘spirits’ for the day.”

  Logan laughed and set his cup on the coffee table. “You ready to light the tree?”

  “Ready,” she said, placing her cup next to his and standing back as Logan plugged in the lights. The room lit with the cheery glow of the twinkling lights, and Harper’s chest warmed as if the glow came from inside her.

  Logan walked back to stand next to her, their shoulders not quite touching as they looked at the tree together.

  “I love the star on top,” she told him. “Some people like to put an angel on the tree, but I’ve always preferred the star.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I think of the star as a promise of something amazing ahead. Like the star the wise men follow in the Christmas story. They don’t question it, they don’t second-guess it, they just believe. And it led them to everything they would ever need. They didn’t have to earn it or even deserve it. They just had to follow the star, and the promise would be fulfilled.” The lights on the tree blurred and transformed to tiny twinkling stars as she blinked back the tears filling her eyes.

  “Sorry. I love the Christmas star the most, but I think stars in general are amazing. They’re so far away, and we shouldn’t even be able to see them, but we can. I think each one is like a little miracle, and maybe they shine so brightly because they hold so many of our wishes.”

  She shook her head. “Gosh, that sounded so dorky. I sometimes think sappy stuff like this, but I don’t often say it out loud. I didn’t mean to get all gushy.”

  “It’s not gushy at all.” Logan gazed up at the star. “We always put the star on last, but I don’t know that I’ve ever really thought about what it represents. But I like what you said, that the star is a promise of something amazing ahead.”

  They were standing shoulder to shoulder and not looking at each other, but she still felt as though they were seeing each other. As though here in the glow of a hundred tiny, sparkling lights, they were each giving the other a small piece of themselves, holding it out to see if the other would take it and cherish it, or refuse it with scorn.

  “I guess I’ve always thought stars represented whatever it was that you wanted,” he said. “Like your deepest desire. You know, you reach for the stars like you’re going for something you really want.” The back of his hand grazed hers, and his pinkie finger twined around hers. “We’ve always used the stars to guide us. The night sky was the original GPS. If you’re ever lost or can’t find your way, you can use the stars to lead you home.”

  His words were doing nothing to quell the emotion building in her throat. She’d always loved the Christmas star, loved what it represented, but she didn’t think she’d ever said her feelings about it out loud. Or maybe she had.

  Her son loved everything to do with space and the stars. She’d hoped to get him a telescope for Christmas this year. He loved to learn about the stars and the planets. One morning at breakfast, he’d told her he wanted to be an astronaut, to fly into space and be among the stars.

  Harper remembered smiling and asking him why—and having her heart shatter into a million pieces when he said it was so he could be with his dad.

  Thinking about Michael and Floyd and all she’d lost had pain piercing her heart. She missed them both so much. So much that she couldn’t see the right path to take or the correct choices she was supposed to make. She needed a star right now—needed something to guide her, to lead her to her deepest desire. She felt more lost than she’d ever been.

  She stared into the lights of the tree and prayed for guidance and wisdom and for something to give her hope to hold on to. The ache in her chest felt as if it might turn her inside out and swallow her whole.

  She started to tighten her hand into a fist and realized her fingers were now completely entwined with Logan’s. A surge of warmth had flowed through her a few seconds ago when his pinkie had gently looped around hers, but when had she taken his hand? And why was she squeezing it now as if he were the lifeline she’d been looking to cling to?

  A sob threatened her throat, and she let go of his hand. She didn’t want to cling to anyone. She’d been down that road before, hanging on to other people, holding to the idea that they would save her. But there was no one to save her now. Not Michael, not her grandmother, and not the tall cowboy standing next to her.

  The only one who could save her, and her boy, was her. The only one she could truly count on to come through for her was herself.

  She swallowed and took a step back. “I should probably go. It’s been a long day, and I’m sure you need to get to bed.” She picked up their mugs and wiped a smear of hot chocolate from the coffee table with the back of her little finger.

  Logan blinked and cleared his throat. “Yeah. Sure. Of course.” He grabbed the lid to the box of decorations and fit it neatly on top. “Um, before you go, I have something for you.” />
  “For me?”

  “Yeah. I mean, it’s no big deal. I just thought it would, you know, help.” He turned away, avoiding her eyes, then hurried down the hall toward his bedroom. “I’ll be right back.”

  Help? What did he have for her that he thought would help? What did that even mean? Did he feel sorry for her?

  A few seconds later, he returned, carrying an envelope and a small brown bag with the name of the local coffee shop printed on the side.

  He’d gotten her some coffee? Interesting choice. And he was right, caffeine almost always did offer her a little help. But he could have just left that on the counter next to the coffeepot.

  “Here,” he said, holding the items out to her. “It’s not wrapped or anything fancy, but I thought you’d appreciate it.”

  She took the envelope. It was plain white, not the kind you’d give someone a card in, and it wasn’t sealed. Turning it over, she lifted the flap and smiled. It was a check. A paycheck.

  “I know we said I’d pay you every Friday, but I figured you could use what you’d earned so far, in case you want to get some groceries for yourself or whatever. I mean, you’re welcome to eat anything here. I just know the refrigerator over there was bare, and I figured there were probably other things you might need.”

  Yes, there were other things. She didn’t care about buying groceries—she could go without having food in the bunkhouse—but this money would go a long way toward setting things up to get Floyd back. She could actually buy some things to show she was making a home for him.

  “Thank you, Logan. Really. This helps a lot.”

  He passed her the bag. “This should help too.”

  She peered inside. What the heck? It wasn’t coffee. Her brow furrowed as she pulled out an electronic device. It looked like a small tablet and was about the size of a paperback novel.

  “It’s a Kindle Fire thingamajig. You can read books on it and stuff. It’s like a little computer.”

  She passed it back to him. “I know what a Kindle is, and it’s ‘like’ a little too much. I can’t accept this.”