The Christmas Cowboy: (Sweet Western Holiday Romance) (Rodeo Romance Book 1)

by Shanna Hatfield

  “He must have been a really cute boy to distract you two so much,” Tate said, giving Kenzie a taunting grin.

  “Megan thought so since she married him.” Her eyes twinkled with mirth as she smiled at Tate. “Check out the mailbox the next time you go to the Montgomery’s ranch. The dent by the flag, that’s all mine.”

  Tate chuckled and shook his head, trying to picture Kenzie as a carefree girl. He assumed she was probably always very responsible and mature. “I’d give Megan a bad time about that, but obviously her efforts paid off.”

  “Obviously,” she agreed, pulling into her parking space at the apartment complex.

  After carrying in groceries and setting them on the counter, Kenzie wrapped his arm again and he hobbled off to take another shower. Once she put everything away, she decided to go pick up his dad. She left Tate a note that let him know she’d be right back.

  When she returned with Kent, Tate stood at the stove, stirring a pot that smelled surprisingly good. He looked over his shoulder and smiled both at her and his dad.

  “Wondered where you ran off to.” Tate gave his concoction a stir. “How are you, Pop?”

  “Fair to middlin’. Can’t complain.” Kent took a seat at the table after Kenzie helped him remove his coat.

  “I thought you two might like to visit this afternoon.” Kenzie carried the dry cleaning she’d tossed over a chair back to her room. Quickly returning to the kitchen, she got out plates, set the table, and poured glasses of water. Somehow, Tate managed to dress in jeans and a shirt that snapped, although he didn’t have on any shoes. His cheeks were freshly shaven. The combination of his aftershave with his masculine scent made her mouth water.

  “So what did you make for lunch?” Vainly, she tried to distract herself from thoughts of how desperately she wanted to press her lips to his smooth, taut cheeks.

  “Just this noodle stuff Pop taught me to make, but it’s usually pretty good and filling. I think we’ve got leftover salad from last night, don’t we?” Tate spooned noodles cooked with hamburger and a creamy sauce into a serving bowl. Kenzie carried it to the table then took the leftover green salad out of the fridge along with some salad dressing.

  Kent asked the blessing then they ate the meal with a lively conversation about trouble he got into as a boy.

  Kenzie loved hearing him talk about things that had happened almost a century ago. No wonder Tate was so active and full of life. Apparently, he inherited his liveliness from his father.

  While the men ate more than their share of cookies, Kenzie cleaned up the table then turned on the fire in the front room.

  The men talked about the ranch for a while and Tate surprised her when he discussed in detail what was going on at the ranch that day. Despite not being there, he was very involved in the day-to-day operations. She liked that he kept on top of what was happening and took full responsibility for the Morgan Ranch.

  Kenzie excused herself to her office where she checked emails, responded to questions from consultants, and sent a weekly report to the corporate office.

  Even though she considered herself on vacation, she still liked to keep in touch with the consultants assigned to her to mentor, as well as the home office. Her boss didn’t expect her to work during the weeks she had off, but she felt obligated to stay on top of her career. It made it easier to get back into the swing of things when mid-January rolled around.

  When she finished her work, she wandered back to the front room where Kent and Tate engaged in a good-natured argument about the type of bull Tate should look for at a bull sale he planned to attend in February.

  Kenzie made hot chocolate and poured three mugs full, adding a dollop of whipping cream laced with peppermint to each before carrying them to the living room.

  While Kent sipped his appreciatively, Tate gave Kenzie a wink that was all male flirtation.

  She made a silly face at him then turned her attention to his dad.

  “Do you like to play games?” Kenzie glanced from father to son.

  “What kind of games?” Kent asked, wondering what the intriguing girl had planned.

  “Board games, like Clue or Scrabble.”

  “Sure, honey. What’ve you got? Can we team up against Tater?” The older man’s blue eyes danced with a zest for life his age had not dimmed.

  “How about Sorry? You can knock his pieces off the board on your way to victory.” Kenzie opened the door to the front entry closet and took a game off the shelf.

  “Hey!” Tate protested while his dad laughed.

  “I like the way this girl thinks, Tater.” Kent scooted his chair forward so he could reach the coffee table where Kenzie set up the game.

  An hour later, all three of them laughed as Kenzie retrieved Tate’s latest piece from the floor where Kent knocked it off the board.

  “I can’t believe you beat us both, Pop.” Tate stared at his dad. “Are you sure you didn’t cheat?”

  “How would I cheat? I could barely make a move with you two watching me like hawks,” Kent said, stretching his legs amid much creaking. “As fun as this has been, I better get back to the center. I promised to play checkers with one of the fellas after dinner. He gets antsy if I’m not right on time. And tonight is meatloaf with gravy so I can’t miss that.”

  “Are you sure, Kent? I’d be happy to have you stay for dinner.” She put away the game then took her coat and Kent’s from the closet.

  “I’m sure, but thanks for the offer. I enjoyed this afternoon. Thank you for bringing me over.” The old man got to his feet and gazed fondly at Kenzie as she helped him with his coat. “You be good to this girl, Tater, or you’ll answer to me.”

  “Sure, Pop.” Tate grinned as he stood.

  “Wanna go with us?” Kenzie asked, turning her attention to Tate. “You could put on your boots while I warm up the car.”

  “I’d like that.” He limped to his room and returned wearing his boots and jacket.

  As Kenzie helped Kent out to the car, she looked over at Tate with a smile that made him catch his breath. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold and her dark hair spilled over the hot pink peacoat she wore. It was a good thing he was out of commission or he could be in all kinds of trouble where she was concerned.

  Tate hobbled out the door and closed it behind him, wondering what stories his dad would tell on the way to the care home.

  He wasn’t disappointed as Kent talked about the holidays when he was a boy and things he remembered as being special treats.

  “Bet you wouldn’t be too happy, son, if you found nuts and an orange in your stocking. You always wanted those action figures and bubble gum.” The mischievous grin on Kent’s face as he looked over his shoulder at Tate in the back seat was so like the one his son often wore. “If I were a betting man I’d place money on you hoping for something a little more exciting under your tree this year. Or maybe I should say someone.”

  “Pop!” Tate’s warning tone only made his father cackle with laughter.

  Kenzie looked at Tate in her rear-view mirror. She raised an eyebrow in his direction. Her look let him know she didn’t take his dad too seriously, even though her flushed cheeks gave away her embarrassment at Kent’s teasing.

  After walking the old man inside and back to his room, Kenzie returned to the car to find Tate in the front seat, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his thigh as he listened to some rousing Christmas tunes.

  While Run, Run Rudolph played on the radio, Kenzie drove a scenic route toward home that took them past houses glowing with Christmas lights. One street featured nine houses all lit up so they sat in the parked car for a few moments taking it all in.

  Not quite ready to end their holiday light tour, she drove through some neighborhoods known for great decorations in Pasco before crossing the big blue bridge to Kennewick and driving through residential areas to see the lights.

  “I’ve never done that before, but it was awesome.” A broad grin lit his face as they got out of the car at t
he apartment complex. “Thanks, Dewdrop.”

  “You’ve never driven around and looked at lights?” Kenzie asked as she unlocked her door and went inside. Tate limped in behind her.

  “Not really. It wasn’t like there were many lights out at the ranch, other than the ones Pop put up. If we came to town, it was usually during the day. When we’d go to Christmas Eve services, we’d be in a hurry to get back home, not drive around in strange neighborhoods,” Tate said, grateful for Kenzie’s help removing his jacket. “Do you always look at the lights?”

  “I haven’t for a few years. We used to when I lived in Portland.” She turned on the fire in the living room and took out her phone. “I’m ordering pizza for dinner. If I remember correctly, you like yours meaty with extra cheese.”

  “That’s right.” Tate sat on the couch and patted the spot beside him. When she sat down, he placed his right arm around Kenzie’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. “But I’m buying. I feel like I need to pay you for room and board as it is.”

  “Stop, already.” She rolled her eyes as she ordered the pizza. While they waited for it to arrive, she turned on a Christmas comedy. They were both laughing when the doorbell rang with the pizza. Tate handed her the cash he’d taken out of his wallet earlier to pay for it. She took it but gave him a look that let him know he was hopeless as she answered the door. After leaving the pizza on the coffee table, she went to the kitchen to get plates, napkins and drinks.

  “Don’t you want to eat this in the kitchen?” Tate asked, looking from Kenzie’s pale carpet to the light tan couch.

  “It’s fine right here.” She placed a piece of pizza on each of their plates then handed him one.

  “But what if I spill something?” Tate asked, afraid of ruining the couch or the carpet.

  “What if you do? I’ll clean it up. Don’t worry about it.” Kenzie shrugged her shoulders and turned her attention to the movie.

  The woman was a complete mystery to him.

  One he hoped he’d have a lifetime to figure out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What do you mean you’re still at Kenzie’s? Are you hurt worse than you let on? I thought you’d be home long before now.” Cort drilled Tate with more questions than his sleep-fogged mind wanted to process.

  “Slow down, man. I’m barely awake and my head’s all fuzzy from the pain meds this early in the day.” Tate worked himself into a sitting position in bed.

  Under normal circumstances, he would have been up and around a couple of hours ago. Since he was stuck in town and injured with a need for extra sleep, he hadn’t worried about getting up at the usual pre-dawn hour to which he was accustomed. If he didn’t get back into his regular routine, though, he was going to go soft.

  Exactly what Cort loudly proclaimed in his ear. “Is she holding you hostage or something?”

  The words rankled even though Tate knew his friend spoke them in jest.

  “Don’t be an idiot.” He started to run his left hand through his tousled hair and stopped midair when the splint prevented his arm from bending like he wanted. “My doctor has me doing therapy and it’s easier to stay in town. I still can’t walk great and the doc didn’t think I should be home alone.”

  “Do you need me to stay with you?” Cort wondered if Tate’s injuries were more extensive than he thought. It would be just like his friend to make light of something serious.

  “Nah, man, everything’s good.” Tate changed the subject by asking Cort about his plans for the holidays, how his sister and parents were doing, and if he’d finalized his rodeo schedule for the coming year.

  Before they hung up, Cort asked for Kenzie’s address, saying he wanted to send her a thank you note for taking good care of his travel partner. Tate seriously doubted Cort had ever written a letter of thanks in his life, but gave him the address all the same.

  After his first therapy session, he knew not to bother taking a shower before he went.

  As they ate breakfast, he asked Kenzie if she’d let him borrow her car and drive himself. Her car was an automatic and he felt recovered sufficiently to handle driving himself the few miles to therapy.

  Reluctant to turn him loose without accompanying him, she finally agreed and handed him her keys without saying anything other than, “good luck with your torture today.”

  She watched him drive away, hoping he really felt as improved as he implied. If he believed himself up to driving to therapy, that meant he’d be ready to go home soon.

  Swiftly blocking thoughts of him leaving her alone right before Christmas, she checked her emails then finished making her Christmas gift for Tate.

  She hadn’t been able to work on it much with him there. Taking advantage of her apartment time alone, she completed the project, wrapped it, and hid it in her closet.

  The previous afternoon she ran by the ranch supply store and picked up a few things for him she thought he would enjoy like a new shirt and a pair of soft leather gloves.

  It was her homemade gift, though, crafted with a heart full of love, she hoped would make him smile and let him know how much she cared.

  Kenzie glanced at the clock and felt a niggling sense of worry Tate hadn’t yet returned. Not wanting to make him feel like she was checking up on him, she decided to wait another thirty minutes before panicking.

  Twenty-nine minutes later, she took the phone out of her pocket to call him. Before she could place the call, he walked through the front door carrying a huge poinsettia and wearing a big smile.

  “Since you don’t have a tree, I thought you could use something festive in here.” He handed Kenzie the plant and kissed her cheek.

  “This is beautiful, Tate. Thank you.” She set the poinsettia on a side table and admired its deep red color. “I take it your therapy went well today.”

  “Yep. She didn’t even make me cry,” Tate said in mock seriousness as he followed her to the kitchen. After wrapping his arm, she studied him as he limped toward his room. He moved with more ease than he had up to that point.

  While Tate showered, Kenzie made lunch. After they ate, they discussed fun traditions their families had when they were kids. Suddenly, she remembered something amusing she and her dad did during the holiday season.

  “Do you sing?” Kenzie asked, as Tate lounged on the couch next to her, their hands clasped together and resting on his thigh. She’d heard him sing the few times they’d gone to church together, and thought he had a good voice.

  “Like opera or professionally?” Tate turned his vivid blue gaze her direction. His carefree grin nearly rendered her speechless. “Then nope, I don’t sing.”

  She rolled her eyes at his teasing. “I meant along to the radio, that kind of singing. Like a normal person.”

  “There’s not a whole lot normal about me, Dewdrop.”

  The slow, thorough once-over she gave him left them both overheated. Kenzie nodded her head in agreement. “So I’ve noticed.”

  “Why do you want to know?” Curious as to what inspired her to ask the question in the first place, Tate desperately needed to focus his attention on something other than their attraction for one another. Otherwise, things could get out of control in a hurry.

  “My dad and I used to make up lyrics to Christmas carols. Mom hated it, but we had so much fun messing with the words.” She recalled how much she and her dad enjoyed the tradition he started when she was about four. Thanks to Tate, the memories no longer hurt, but brought a sweetness she never thought she’d feel again.

  “I think I need an example to get a solid understanding of what it is you mean.” His imploring gaze lingered on her face. “Maybe you can do a practice song. Show me how it’s done.”

  She shot him a skeptical glare then broke into a rousing rendition of Sleigh Ride, changing all the words to a mishmash of craziness.

  Tate laughed so hard, he had to hold his side to keep his ribs from aching too badly.

  “I think for the next one you need to add in some fancy dance moves,
” Tate said when he finally caught his breath enough he could talk, holding his hand to his tender ribs. “Let’s see you work your magic on Deck the Halls.”

  “Nope. It’s your turn.” She slid away from him to give him plenty of room for his performance.

  Tate looked at her like she’d lost her mind. Unless he was at church, alone in the truck, or in the shower, he didn’t sing.

  “Time’s a wastin’, cowboy,” Kenzie drawled, giving him an alluring pout and batting her long, dark eyelashes at him. “Be a good boy and sing for your supper.”

  “If I get fed based on my singing talent, I’ll starve. Maybe I better call Monte and have him come get me,” Tate teased, taking his phone out of his pocket. Kenzie snatched it away from him and held it behind her back. “You aren’t doing anything except singing me a song.”

  “Fine. Have it your way,” Tate said, quickly thinking of a song. “Just keep in mind I’m new to this.”

  After taking a deep breath, he began to sing:

  All I want for Christmas is my Kenzie’s kiss,

  my Kenzie’s kiss, my Kenzie’s kiss!

  Gee, if I could only have my sweetheart’s kiss

  then it would be a Merry Christmas.

  It seems so long since she loved on me,

  Months and months devoid of affection.

  Gosh, oh gee, how happy I’d be

  If she’d offer no objection…

  All I want for Christmas is my Kenzie’s kiss,

  my Kenzie’s kiss, my Kenzie’s kiss!

  Gee, if I could only have my sweetheart’s kiss,