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

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The Christmas Cowboy: (Sweet Western Holiday Romance) (Rodeo Romance Book 1) Page 25

by Shanna Hatfield


  “Since we’ve both had a pretty exciting day, and since I’m about to lose my ability to think rationally where you’re concerned, I think we better turn in for the evening.”

  She processed the fact Tate seemed to be having as hard a time as she was at keeping her wits about her. After taking a deep breath, she sat up and smiled at him. “You’re right. It has been a rather interesting day.”

  “I think I could do without any more interesting days for a very long time.” He unplugged the tree lights then turned off the TV and the fireplace while she checked the front door to make sure it was locked.

  Tate walked her to her room, kissed her softly, telling her to have sweet dreams.

  As she got ready for bed, Kenzie was sure all her dreams would be of Tate.

  Chapter Twenty

  Startled out of a deep sleep, Tate attempted to figure out what woke him. Intently listening in the midnight quiet, he heard a whimpering sound that drew him from the warmth of his bed.

  A nightlight glowing in the hall provided enough light he kept from bumping into walls as he rushed to Kenzie’s bedroom. In the dark shadows of her room, he could see her thrashing beneath her covers.

  Quietly approaching the bed, he shook her arm, trying to wake her. She continued fighting something in her dreams until he placed a hand on her forehead and brushed back her hair, whispering her name.

  Abruptly, she stilled and opened her eyes.

  “Tate?” she whispered, reaching out a hand and connecting with the cast on his arm.

  “I’m here, baby.” He fumbled to turn on the bedside lamp. When it illuminated the room, tears glistened on Kenzie’s cheeks. “What’s the matter, Dewdrop? Having a bad dream?”

  “Oh, Tate,” she said on a sob as he sat on the bed and gathered her against his chest. Unable to stop the tears rolling down her cheeks or the fear gripping her, threatening to squeeze the air from her lungs, she clung to him.

  “Shh, Kenz. Shh. It’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He rubbed her back and held her close. “Everything’s fine.”

  Once her tears subsided, he handed her a tissue from the box on the nightstand and she mopped at her face.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, studying the blankets covering her lap. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He used his forefinger to nudge up her chin until she looked at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.” From her dreams, Kenzie recalled Darcy coming at her with the knife and then stabbing it into Tate again and again.

  Horrified and chilled, she slid back down in bed.

  “Want me to stay here with you for a while?” Tate asked, moving the kitchen chair back to the edge of Kenzie’s bed from where she’d set it against the wall.

  “Yes, please.” Kenzie rolled onto her side so she could see Tate and hold his hand. She gripped it like a lifeline. He turned off the light and leaned forward in the chair, awkwardly stroking her forehead as best he could with his broken arm. The edges of the cast brushed against her skin, but somehow she found it comforting.

  “I love you, Kenzie. I promise to keep you safe,” Tate whispered. Anger that anyone would try to hurt her and frustration he couldn’t make the incident go away seeped through him.

  “I know. I love you, too,” she said, fighting to keep her tears from erupting again. “Sing to me, Tate. Please?”

  “Sure.”

  It took him a moment to decide on a song. He quietly sang all the verses to Silent Night then started to sing The First Noel. He made it through the first verse when the sound of her even breathing let him know she slept. For a while, he listened to her breathe, praying for her safekeeping, before going back to his room and falling into an exhausted sleep.

  The next morning, Tate awoke unusually early, but got up to check on Kenzie. She slept soundly so he went back to bed and let himself relax.

  Daylight peeped around the edges of the blinds in his room the next time he opened his eyes. After stretching his good arm, he rolled out of bed and wandered back toward Kenzie’s room.

  She opened the bathroom door and nearly ran into him, wrapped in a big fluffy bath sheet with a matching towel encasing her hair.

  “Tate!” she said, blushing from her head down her neck to where the towel covered her chest. “I… you…” she stuttered, backing toward her door.

  “Don’t you think I better take a look at the cut?” Tate searched for any excuse to keep her from running into her bedroom and shutting the door. He liked seeing her flustered, fresh from the shower, with her skin glowing like smooth satin.

  His hands itched to run up and down her arms and along her shoulders. Instead, he kept them at his sides, forcing himself to remain relaxed in posture. Every nerve ending in his body stood tense and alert, zeroed in on the beguiling woman before him.

  “Oh, I suppose.” She turned around so he could look at her cut. Scabbed over, it appeared clean so he offered to dab some antibiotic cream on it for her. She stepped back into the bathroom. He carefully rubbed in the ointment then covered it with a bandage before kissing the back of her neck.

  Slowly backing out the door, he grinned when Kenzie turned around appearing even more rattled than she had earlier.

  “How about I go take a shower and then we can decide what we want to do today?” he asked, moving down the hall toward his room.

  She nodded her head, trying to recall if Tate singing her to sleep had been real or a dream. Quickly returning to her room, she dressed in dark-washed jeans and a peacock blue sweater before drying her hair then applying minimal makeup.

  In the kitchen, she made oven pancakes for breakfast then whipped thick cream. She rinsed a bowl of fresh raspberries, pleased the grocery store had some decent produce when she’d gone the other day.

  Plenty jittery without coffee, she opted for tea and made two cups. She stirred sugar into hers when Tate sauntered into the kitchen looking as handsome as always. His hair was still damp on the ends and his cheeks looked utterly tempting after his shave.

  The deep breath she inhaled filled her nose with his enticing scent, making her stomach quiver as she handed him the cup of tea with a shaky hand.

  “Hope you don’t mind, but I don’t need a caffeine jolt this morning,” she said, carrying her tea to the kitchen table then setting down plates and forks. Tate carried the berries and whipped cream while she took the puffy baked pancake from the oven.

  “What’s that?” he asked, watching as she cut it into slices and put one on each of their plates.

  “A Dutch baby. It’s a baked pancake,” she said, glad she’d gone to the effort of making it. Her repertoire of breakfast recipes was limited and she’d gone through about all she knew in the time Tate stayed with her.

  He eyed the golden, crusty slice on his plate and followed Kenzie’s example of spooning whipped cream and berries on top. Eagerly taking a bite, he closed his eyes and savored the delicious flavor and rich egg texture.

  “That’s good. Thanks.” He took another bite then drank from the cup of tea.

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.” Distracted, she took a few more bites before setting her fork on the edge of her plate and staring at Tate. “Did I wake you last night?”

  “Yeah, but don’t worry about it.” He ate another bite, enjoying his breakfast treat.

  “Did I really cry all over you and then ask you to sing?” Kenzie asked, focusing on the snowflake pattern on her plate.

  As he studied her beautiful dark head bent over her breakfast, love swelled in his heart. “You did.” The strength of his feelings last night was just as real and heartfelt this morning. He’d do anything to make Kenzie feel safe and protected.

  Determined to lighten her somber mood, he tried to make her laugh. “Apparently my rendition of holiday favorites puts you to sleep in no time at all.”

  “I’m sorry.” Embarrassed at having bothered Tate, she shoved her food around on her
plate. He was still healing from his injuries and required uninterrupted rest. The last thing he needed was a panic-stricken female forcing him out of bed with her sobbing and ordering him to sing.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Kenzie. I’m glad I was here. You can cry on me any time you want or insist I sing. Well, at least where there aren’t witnesses to the singing.” When she ignored his teasing grin, he pushed up her chin so she’d look him in the eye. “Okay?”

  At Kenzie’s slight nod, he kissed her cheek and returned to eating his breakfast. He asked her about all her goodie tins. They decided to deliver some that morning before going to pick up Kent for lunch then heading to the mall to look at the decorations.

  Quickly rinsing the breakfast dishes and putting them in the dishwasher, Kenzie and Tate both took a few moments to respond to voice and text messages as well as emails before bundling up to head outside. The temperature climbed high enough the previous afternoon to melt most of the ice and the streets looked clear.

  After delivering several tins of goodies that morning, they arrived at the assisted living center in time to take Kent to lunch at his favorite restaurant.

  Throughout the meal, the three of them enjoyed one another’s company. When they finished eating, they left the restaurant to do a little shopping. Tate drove them to the ranch supply store where he bought a new coat, since his had a slashed sleeve covered in Kenzie’s blood.

  Rapidly yanking off the tags, he put on the new coat, stuffing the old one behind the pickup seat then drove to the mall.

  As they gawked at the colorful decorations, Tate tried to cajole Kenzie and Kent into sitting on Santa’s lap. She and the elderly man refused, but they stood and watched a few anxious youngsters and screaming toddlers take turns on the red-suited man’s lap before wandering through some of the stores.

  Tate insisted on buying Kenzie a new black dress coat when she happened to see one she liked.

  “You don’t need to buy my coat.” She carried it to the cash register to pay for it.

  “Yes, I do. It’s my fault your other one was ruined.” He pulled out his wallet as the sales clerk looked from one to the other.

  “Let the boy pay for it, Kenzie. It’ll make him feel better,” Kent finally said, patting her on the arm and giving her a wink. “Fellas like to buy things for their girls, you know.”

  Kenzie smiled at Kent and nodded her head. “Fine. I can’t win with the two of you conspiring against me, but it wasn’t your fault, Tate. Just keep that in mind.”

  Tate paid for the coat and tried to take the bag from Kenzie, but she shook her head and walked ahead of him, looking back over her shoulder with a sassy grin.

  “Tater, are you going to marry that girl or not? If you don’t snap to it, someone else will snatch her up, like that neighbor of hers who lives upstairs,” Kent said as he strolled beside his son. Kenzie ducked into a gift shop while Tate stayed with his dad outside.

  “I’d sure like to if she’ll have me,” Tate admitted, guiding his dad to an empty bench where they could sit and wait for Kenzie. He chose to ignore the comment about Kenzie’s neighbor. Tate knew his dad was just trying to goad him.

  “Have you asked her?” Kent pinned him with a questioning gaze.

  “No, but before you give me step-by-step directions on how to do it, I’ve got plans. Just cool your heels, Pop.” Tate grinned at his dad, patting him on the back.

  Kent slapped Tate’s leg and laughed.

  “I was starting to wonder if you were as all-fired smart as I give you credit for being. It wouldn’t take a genius to see that girl is head-over-heels in love with you.” Kent relaxed against the bench. He could almost picture a grandbaby bouncing on his knee. “When are you going to pop the question?”

  “Christmas Day and that’s all I’m saying.” Tate watched people hurry by, arms loaded with bags and packages.

  “Good enough, son. What time are you heading back to the ranch?” Kent dug in his pocket for a piece of hard candy. He’d been sucking on peppermints for so many years, he couldn’t remember why he started the habit. He offered one to Tate and grinned when his son shook his head then took one anyway.

  “I’m not. I’m staying at Kenzie’s.” As the full force of his dad’s disapproval hit him, Tate battled the urge to squirm under the older man’s scrutiny.

  “I know you young kids today don’t hold with what you see as old-fashioned values, but I didn’t raise you to be a trifling kind of man, Tater. What do you mean you’re staying at Kenzie’s?”

  “Monte has everything under control at the ranch and we’re supposed to get another storm. I don’t want to drive back and forth to town when it isn’t necessary. Besides, it’s not what you think.” Tate looked his dad in the eye, feeling like he was twelve again, caught trying to sneak out to join Cort in some mischief. “I stay in the guest room, just like I have been since we came back from Las Vegas. In case you forgot, I’m not back at one hundred percent and even if I were, I’d still behave myself. You did raise me better than that and I haven’t forgotten what you taught me.”

  Kent slapped Tate on the back and smiled. “Glad to hear it, boy. I know you’re both adults and can do as you please, but I’m still not sure it’s a good idea for you two to spend so much time together unsupervised. As long as I’ve got your word you’ll act like a gentleman, I’ll leave it be.”

  “I promise, Pop. Now you better hush because here she comes.” Tate stood then helped his dad up as Kenzie approached carrying several bags.

  “You boys ready to go or did you have more shopping you wanted to do?” She asked as she approached, giving Tate a kiss on his cheek. He tried to take some of the bags from her hands, but she shook her head and took a step away from him. She smiled in smug victory as Kent leaned on Tate’s good arm.

  “I’m about tuckered out.” Kent glanced at Tate as he nodded his head. “When you get to be my age, a daily nap is pretty much required to function.”

  “A nap sounds good.” Kenzie walked to Tate’s left, trying to protect his injured side from the jostling crowd while he helped his dad navigate through the throngs of people.

  After taking Kent back to his room at the care center and their packages home, Tate asked Kenzie if she’d like to go to the movies. She agreed and they hurried to catch a new holiday film.

  Surrounded by the darkness in the back of the theater, Tate spent as much time kissing Kenzie as he did watching the movie. He did manage to help her eat a tub of popcorn and drink a large soda pop.

  When they exited the theater, evening had settled in so they went back to her apartment where she made soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner.

  They sat for hours in front of the fire talking about childhood memories and things they’d loved about Christmas when they were kids before turning in for the night.

  Tate had a hard time relaxing, listening for a sign that Kenzie struggled with another nightmare. Finally falling asleep, he awakened hours later when he heard her scream.

  He raced to her room and found her sitting in bed with the light on. Terror lingered in her eyes as she clutched the sheet in both hands. Her chest heaved and her breath came in tight gasps.

  “It’s okay,” he said, taking her cold hand in his. “It was just a dream and it’s over now.”

  “Tate, it was awful. She was there… the knife…” Kenzie shuddered. She’d dreamed Darcy had come after them and stabbed Tate repeatedly. She knew the woman was in jail and likely would be for a long while, but she couldn’t get past the feeling that Darcy was still going to hurt them, Tate in particular.

  “It’s over, Kenz. She can’t get to us. We’re safe. I promise to keep you safe, baby. I promise.” Tate sat beside Kenzie on the big bed and wrapped his arm around her. “Let go of the fear that she’ll come back. She can’t. I won’t let it happen.”

  Kenzie buried her face against Tate’s bare chest, drawing comfort from him. When Tate shivered in the cool night air, she gently pushed agai
nst him until he got to his feet.

  “Will you keep holding me for a while?” she asked, pulling back the covers so he could climb in beside her.

  The innocent yet intimate proximity to Kenzie would push his willpower to the extreme, but he nodded his head. He turned off the light and got into bed beside her. After sliding down so his head rested on a fluffy pillow, Tate wrapped his right arm around her and kissed her temple.

  Curling against his side, Kenzie rested her head on Tate’s shoulder and listened to the steady thumping of his heart.

  Tate felt her relax as he quietly hummed. Eventually, her even breathing told him she slept. Afraid to wake her if he moved, he let his eyes drift shut and fell asleep.

  ><><

  Kenzie awakened slowly, feeling more secure than she had in years. As she moved her hand beneath her cheek, she realized her pillow had suddenly grown extra firm. Unusually hard.

  Her hand trailed downward and she popped open her eyes. Tate’s bright blue orbs gazed at her with love and amusement as her hand caressed his bare stomach.

  “Happy Christmas Eve, Kenz,” he whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead.

  “Happy Christmas Eve,” she said, disoriented. What had happened last night? Why was Tate in her bed and why was she using him as a pillow?

  Frantically sorting through her memories, she recalled going to bed early because they both were so tired. She remembered having a nightmare and Tate coming in to comfort her.

  In the vague recesses of her sleepy mind, she thought she may have asked him to hold her, heard him humming as she drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

  Would she be plagued with nightmares from now on?

  Tate’s presence not only drove away her midnight fears, but also made her feel cherished and loved. It would be so easy to get used to falling asleep in his arms but they couldn’t let it happen again.

  Even if all they’d done was sleep, she couldn’t keep sharing a bed with Tate. It pushed the limits of her willpower far too close to the edge.

 

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