Holiday Heat: The Men of Starlight Bend

by Ashley Jennifer

  Still this cowboy had winked at her . . . whatever that meant . . . and now he wanted her coat, albeit an unattractive coat, for his cowgirl wife or fiancée, no doubt.

  Gus held up the coat and she slipped her arms into the sleeves, zipped it up past her chin, and pulled the fur-lined hood over her head. The cowboy chuckled as she gazed into a convenient wall mirror, wanting desperately to appear as if she knew exactly what she wanted in a coat, and this was it.

  Peeking out from the obtrusive hood, she clearly looked exactly like Frosty the Snowman, all she needed was a carrot for a nose and her ensemble would be complete. The cowboy’s unabashed laughter abated and he shook his head, which told Jolie that the coat was a definite mistake. Even Riley, who now stood chatting with an older woman, gazed over and gave Jolie a thumbs down. The monster coat was outrageously unattractive, comically puffy, but delightfully and wonderfully warm.

  And besides, the cowboy’s opinion didn’t matter one lick, especially since he was probably married with three kids.

  “I’ll take it,” she said while hiding her chin and mouth behind the shiny fabric.

  “You can’t be serious,” the cowboy mumbled.

  “As serious as a fire,” she told him.

  “Should I wrap it up or will you be wearing it?” Gus asked, a tiny smirk poking at the corners of his mouth.

  It was the first time Jolie had stopped shivering since she stepped off the plane. At this point, Gus and the cowboy would have to rip it off of her dead body.

  “I may never take it off,” she said, standing tall, standing proud.

  “Will you be needing anything else?”

  “Let me look around for a bit,” she wanted gloves, boots, sweaters, wool pants and God only knew what else, but she wanted to look on her own, away from Gus and the married-with-children cowboy.

  “Take your time. When you’re ready, just come on up to the front registers.” Then he pointed towards the massive Christmas tree. “You might want to check out our Wish Tree. It’s pretty special.”

  “What’s a Wish Tree?” Jolie had no idea what he was talking about.

  “It’s for at risk kids in the area. They write down what they’d like Santa to bring them for Christmas, and someone grants their wish by buying that present and then putting it under our tree with their name attached. A local charity takes care of collecting and delivering the presents. It’s really a cool way to do something nice for a kid who might otherwise not get a gift for Christmas.”

  “I’ll check it out,” Jolie told him, needing any diversion to get away from the chuckling cowboy who now seemed to be openly staring at her.

  She slipped her hood off her head, unzipped the puffy coat a bit, turned on her designer heels and headed towards the Wish Tree, glad to be walking away from a man who took her breath away. Thinking how instead of the coat keeping her warm, she’d much rather be tangled up in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder while those wonderful hands of his ran over her naked body.

  She unzipped the coat, and slipped out of it. Someone must have turned up the heat in the store.

  ~~*~~

  Red followed Jolie Shepard over to the Wish Tree after he and Gus had secured a blue down coat for his aunt, and a bright green lesser-down coat for his mom. He still had hopes he could talk Jolie out of that wretched white coat, especially now that she’d slipped it off of that killer body of hers.

  Wow, he thought as he watched her sashay up the aisle heading for the tree. He had a hard time taking his eyes off of her or maybe he’d just been isolated for far too long, and a woman’s body had become an anomaly rather than the norm. He wanted to get to know this woman better, but first he wanted to convince her to buy a different coat. That thing was fine for his mom, but not for this woman. She needed something elegant, something that fit her character and showed off that amazing body.

  Damn but he couldn’t help the bedroom thoughts that swirled around in his head.

  Thoughts that certainly wouldn’t help convince her to give up the coat. He forced his dirty brain to walk out of the bedroom and into the light of the store and focus on his mission for being in the store in the first place: one white coat, one blue coat, and some fishing tackle for his uncle.

  As he approached the Christmas tree, he spotted Santa sitting on a large wooden chair with an oversized red velvet bag perched next to him. Red expected to see Charlie Connor, the seventy-something local grocer who usually played Santa, but this was a new guy. Someone Red didn’t recognize and someone who obviously took portraying Santa seriously. From what Red could tell, everything about this Santa looked like the real deal, even his white bushy whiskers.

  Jolie stopped in front of the tree and began reading the wishes that were written on an assortment of dangling paper ornaments, some shaped like stars, while others were shaped into angels or snowflakes. Red suddenly remembered the promise he’d made . . . not the one to his mom about a girl under their tree, although watching Jolie stand next to that tree gave him pause, it was the other promise he’d made to his aunt about granting a wish to a kid in need.

  There weren’t very many wishes left this close to Christmas and mostly they were wishes that didn’t seem to resonate with Red, like a new toy truck or a Barbie doll. But there was one wish that struck home with Red, one wish written on a snowflake that seemed to be directed right at him.

  Unfortunately, before he could swipe it from the tree, the young woman reached for the exact same wish.

  Their hands touched and a bright spark shot between them that could almost light up the sky. They each abruptly pulled their hands away leaving the coveted wish still hanging from the branch.

  “What the heck?” Red said, startled by the blue flash.

  “Are you purposely trying to annoy me?” Her words were sharp, but her voice sounded more like fine silk brushing against his rough skin.

  “No ma’am.”

  She hesitated and blinked as a whisper of a smile caught the edges of her fine lips. It made his knees buckle.

  “Did you just call me ma’am?”

  That luscious voice of hers sent a half-dozen prickles down his spine.

  “Yes, ma’am, I sure did.”

  “I like that. I like it a lot, but my name is Jolie, Jolie Shepard, and I’m not giving up my coat, no matter how polite you are.”

  His mama didn’t raise no fool. He knew when to pour on the honey instead of the salt.

  He tipped his hat. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Jolie Shepard. I’m Red Wiseman, and you have every right to that there coat. I wouldn’t think of trying to talk you out of it, especially since I know it’s one of those extra warm coats my mama wants for Christmas. If my mama says it’s a good coat, then it sure has to be. You and she think alike, and that’s mighty fine.”

  “Your mother wants this coat for Christmas?”

  “That very one, but I wouldn’t dream of trying to talk you out of it even though my mama had her heart set on it.”

  “There must another one.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. That’s it.”

  “In another store?”

  “This is the only sporting goods store for a hundred miles.”

  She pulled the coat in tighter and held onto it with both arms a sure sign he was losing the battle.

  “And I suppose your mama is a tiny slip of a woman who’s always cold.”

  “Something like that, yes, but I’m sure she’ll be fine with a different coat, one not as warm, and in a different color . . . even though that particular shade of white is her favorite.”

  “And what about the wish? You probably want that as well, being the stand-up kind of cowboy and all.”

  He’d forgotten all about the wish. He was having too much fun playing the bungling distortion of a cowboy with the fragile, always-cold mom.

  “Well I . . . ”

  She thrust the coat at him. “Here, take it, but you can’t have the wish. That’s mine.”

  He took the coat, gr
ateful for her generosity. “Sure. Thanks. Whatever you want to do.”

  Jolie once again reached for the wish, but it was a little too high for her. She couldn’t have been more than five-feet-five inches tall even in those high-heeled citified boots of hers.

  “Let me get that for you,” he told her as he easily reached for it. At six-foot-two he towered over her.

  As he plucked the wish from the tree, he reread it: For Holly: Western horseback riding lessons for a special needs child.

  “That’s some kind of wish. Are you sure you want this one?”

  “Yes, that one.”

  “You know this child is asking for horseback riding lessons, right?”

  “Yes. Why? Do you have some reason you think I can’t grant that wish?”

  “Me? No. It’s just that riding lessons can be pricey, and difficult for the child if they aren’t special needs, but if they are it can be even more tough to find the right trainer and a suitable horse.”

  She swiped the wish from his hand. “Then I’ll have to find a trainer who knows how to teach special needs children.”

  “You’re looking at him.” He tried to look as sincere as possible, knowing full well that the wish couldn’t have been more perfect for him to grant. And despite it taking a monetary hit to his bank account, he figured he could make it up by boarding a couple more horses this winter. “I’ve worked with several special needs kids before. Even kids who are terrified to get up on a horse. It’s what I do.”

  The bungling cowboy routine had to be pushed aside. Now he had to convince her that he was the only cowboy for the job.

  She looked him over with a skeptical grin. “So you’re a teacher. I never would have guessed it.”

  “Why?” He gazed down at himself. Everything looked in order. His duster had been newly cleaned, his jeans were a bit dusty, and worn, but they were decent. And his boots needed polishing, but his boots always needed polishing. It was part of the cowboy creed to have scuffed, and grimy boots. “What is a teacher supposed to look like?”

  Her gaze dropped over him again. “Neat. Clean. Tidy.”

  He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped from the back of his throat. “I work on a ranch, not in a schoolhouse.”

  She turned away from him for a moment, as if she had to reconsider her assumptions. “Good point.” A full minute later she swung back around to face him. “ Fine, but I’m not giving this up. I want to grant the wish. I want to pay for it.”

  “You can, and I’ll teach her how to ride.”

  “How much do you charge?”

  “A lot, but I’m worth it.”

  He caught the little eye roll. “You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Only because it’s the truth.”

  “And who else better to judge?”

  “You wanted the best, and I’m telling you it’s me. I already offered to do it for free. You’re the one who wants to pay for the lessons.”

  “I do, but . . .” He saw the hesitation in her sweet eyes. “I’m kind of strapped for cash right now.”

  He had a hard time believing that from the way she was dressed, plus her desire to buy a relatively expensive coat. He wasn’t completely out of touch about women’s clothing and shoes. His ex-fiancée would order two-hundred-dollar designer shoes, and expensive designer clothes and purses online. Of course, her buying habits should have been a clue that ranch life didn’t exactly match up with her heels and high-end tastes, but denial was a powerful drug.

  For the sake of the kid who asked for the Christmas wish, he decided to go along with what had to be a lie. “Then how ‘bout if I give you a discount?”

  She thought about it for a moment. “That will help, but I want to pay for this by myself. It’s important to me. The thing is, I don’t have any money.”

  He didn’t believe her. “Then how were you going to buy this coat?”

  “I have my mom’s charge card.”

  Everything became clear. He figured she’d been raised by helicopter parents who’d doted on her every desire, she’d been coddled her entire life, and made use of those ‘safe zones’ in college where the real world wasn’t welcome.

  He wanted to walk away, but something kept him talking. Maybe it was her desire to actually do something on her own.

  “Must be nice.”

  “Actually, it’s not.” She held out the wish card to give it to him. “Here, you take it.”

  But Red couldn’t take it. He’d never seen a more pathetic look on anyone’s face before. If she really had a desire to reach out and do something good for someone else, who was he to stop her?

  “How about if you work for me to pay for the lessons?”

  “Doing what? Cleaning out stalls? Slopping the pigs? Milking the cows?”

  He could tell this woman knew nothing about a horse ranch. “Do you know how to do any of those things? Hog slopping can be grueling work.”

  Not that he owned even one pig.

  Her eyes went wide. “Sure I do,” she said, but he knew she was lying to save face. He thought he’d have some fun with this.

  “Okay then. It’s a deal.” He stuck out his hand, and they shook on it. “You can work off the cost of the lessons.” Her hand fit perfectly into his, warm and petite. He liked the feel of her skin against his.

  “The deal is for the discounted lessons.”

  “Yes, the discounted lessons,” he said as she slipped her hand from his. As soon as she did, he once again felt the jolt of electricity shoot between them. And if he wasn’t mistaken, he could swear it sparked a bright blue again.

  “What is that?” she asked, shaking out her hand. The spark had stung. Nothing bad, but enough so he’d noticed, and apparently she had, too.

  “Kismet,” he told her, smiling, wondering what the heck was going on.

  She grinned. “I don’t believe in all that magical stuff.”

  He hadn’t made up his mind yet. “Maybe so, but Starlight Bend is known for being a magical city, especially around Christmas.”

  He knew that much for a fact. Strange things seemed to happen every Christmas.

  “Has anything magical happened to you?”

  “Got the exact bike that I asked Santa for when I was ten, when my mom and dad both told me they couldn’t afford it.”

  “That’s not magic. They were just keeping a secret.”

  “Maybe so, but whenever I asked my folks about that bike, they were as mystified as I was and swear they had no idea how it landed under our tree.”

  That bike still gave Red pause whenever he thought about it. He kept it hanging in the garage, waiting for his son to ride it . . . if he ever had a son. And from the way his dating life had been going for the past several years, he didn’t know if that would ever happen.

  They walked over to Santa and registered the child’s name and the wish: Holly Lowe, twelve years old, Western-riding lessons.

  “That’s some wish!” Santa said, dropping the wish into a bright red box as his helper, a little person dressed in a green elf costume, wrote the wish in a book that seemed enormous compared to the elf.

  Red turned to Jolie. “That’s a lot of pig slop,” he teased. “How long is your visit?”

  “Just until Christmas. I leave the day after,” Jolie told him, looking a bit apprehensive, but sounding determined.

  “Christmas is in four days. We’ll have to come up with a lot more chores for you to do in three days.”

  “I’m ready for anything you throw at me. Also, I intend to find a job when I get back to Vegas, so I’ll send you a check for my remaining balance. You just give me an amount and I’ll do my best to repay you.”

  Red raised an eyebrow. He’d never met anyone so anxious to work before. He had to give it to her. The woman had some kinda spunk going on.

  “Let’s just see how the chores go first.”

  “That’s mighty generous of you two,” Santa told them in a deep voice, his eyes sparkling with a smile. “Pick out
a gift from my bag.”

  “Oh no, that’s okay,” Jolie said. “Save it for the kids.”

  “These gifts are especially for anyone who grants a wish for a child.” Santa picked up his bag and held it open. “Go ahead. Pick out anything you’d like.”

  Even though Red was reluctant, he stuck his hand inside what at first seemed like an empty bag and pulled out a horseshoe shaped card with red embossed lettering that read: Your Wish Has Been Granted. Jolie did the same, sticking her hand inside the red velvet bag, but she pulled out a red and white striped poker chip.

  “Your Wish Has Been Granted,” she read aloud. “But I didn’t make a wish,” Jolie told Santa.

  Santa chuckled and his belly rolled under his big red coat. “Yes you did. It’s the wish of your heart and it’s been granted. Yours too, Red.”

  “Wait . . . what? Do I know you?” Red stared at the man in the Santa suit while trying to recognize the face, but he was dead certain he’d never seen him before.

  “Of course you do,” the jolly man said. “I’m Santa Claus.”

  Then he gave them a deep belly laugh, picked up his bag, tossed it over his shoulder and ambled away.

  Chapter Three

  “That was weird,” Jolie said once Santa had disappeared behind the boot racks that stood in front of them. “I think that guy really thinks he’s Santa Claus.”

  “Maybe he is,” Red said with a lilt to his voice.

  She turned and gave him an eye roll. “Yeah, right, and our wishes are going to come true.”

  “So you have one?”

  Red caught her off-guard. “Sure I do,” she lied. She had no idea what the ‘wish of her heart’ could be. She wondered if Red knew what was in his heart. “Don’t you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She believed him, and envied him for it. “Can you share?”

  “That’s between Santa and me,” Red teased, winking once again and making little tsk, tsk noises.

  His sly little wink was growing on her. It gave him an adorable quality she liked, as if the little kid in him snuck out for a moment, then quickly vanished behind the rugged man. Just like the whole Wish Tree/Santa Claus encounter had spun her back to her youth and the Christmas enchantment she had long ago forgotten. From the moment she’d reached for Holly’s wish, it had felt as though everything she did and said had somehow been pre-determined. As if a force had been guiding her to pick Holly’s wish, and she knew deep down that paying for it was somehow part of fulfilling her wish.