Santa in a Stetson

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

“If that don’t beat all,” Ned said, turning to Steve. “Here you was cussin’ about that barn cat having babies so late you have to keep ‘em in the house so they won’t freeze, and here’s somebody who needs one.”

  “You really have kittens?” Jo said.

  “‘Bout four weeks old,” Steve said. “I told Claire they’d be perfect for Christmas presents, but she said nobody on our list needed a kitten, so it looked like we were gonna be stuck with them. What do you think about givin’ her two, so they could keep each other company?”

  “Watch out,” Russ said, glancing up at her. “In a minute Steve’s gonna try to unload all five of them, two for your neighbor and three for you.”

  Jo’s gaze skittered over him. “Between school and work I’m not home enough to give them the right kind of attention. Otherwise I’d take them in a minute. I miss having animals around. Back in Montana, my folks have everything—dogs, cats, chickens, baby goats. And of course, horses.”

  A Montana girl, he thought, intrigued. He’d never known anybody from Montana. He’d always wanted to see the place. “How come you ended up down here?”

  The sadness flickered again in her green eyes. “The college looked good, and I—wanted to see what Arizona was like.”

  He’d bet there was a lot more to it than that. A woman didn’t up and leave home for the hell of it. Chances were, she’d tried to run away from something painful back in Montana, the way he’d tried to run away from a whole lot of pain back in New Mexico. She’d have to find out on her own that running away didn’t help much.

  “Claire’s spoilin’ those kittens something awful,” Steve said. “But I can guarantee they’ll be really tame.”

  “They sound perfect for Lucile. She treated Pookie like a queen.”

  “Then consider it a done deal,” Steve said.

  Jo gave Russ another tentative glance. “Will you be helping Steve and Claire this year?”

  He felt a stab of regret at the hopeful expression on her face. She was probably wondering if he fit into the nice-guy category. She might as well find out the truth now. “No, I won’t.”

  “Russ don’t do Christmas,” Ned said. “And I just found out he don’t want to talk about the subject, neither.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  If he’d expected to push her away with that information, it wasn’t working. Instead, she looked at him with new interest, as if he was a puzzle she’d like to solve. That wasn’t good, because the interest in her eyes was doing terrible things to his plan to stay away from her.

  “I’ve got nothin’ against Thanksgiving,” he said softly.

  “Is that right?” A soft smile lit her face.

  “Looks like Andy’s finally fixin’ to give up that pool table,” Steve said. “And I’m in the mood to whip your butt, Russ. Ned can take the winner, which is gonna be me.”

  Russ looked at his brother. He knew good and well what Steve was doing. He figured Russ wouldn’t be able to back down from a challenge, which would get him away from Jo. Well, that was for the best, although Steve’s interference was beginning to grate on his nerves. He’d never seen his brother so concerned about his love life.

  Russ pushed back his chair and picked up his beer. “Better pick out a good stick, big brother. You’re gonna need it.”

  “Thanks again for the kittens, Steve.” Jo moved away from the table. “You boys just holler when you’re ready for another round.”

  She was no sooner out of earshot than Steve started in on Russ.

  “Doggone it, son, what’re you thinkin’?” Steve said in an undertone. “Jo is not the kind of woman you stage a one-night stand with.”

  “I never said I was planning on that,” Russ said, irritated now. “I’m just flirting with her a little, is all. How come you’re so worried all of a sudden? I’ve been flirting with women most all my life and I don’t recall you getting all hot and bothered about it.”

  “I didn’t know most of ‘em, I guess.” Steve glanced back at Ned, who’d stopped to talk to somebody on the way to the pool table. “Ned and I come into the Roundup two, maybe three times a week, and Jo’s always here, working like crazy. She misses her family, but they don’t have the money to come here to visit and she’s saving every penny she can lay her hands on for tuition, so she can’t afford to go up there.”

  “And that’s another thing.” Russ took a cue stick down from the wall and sighted along it “There’s colleges in Montana. How come she had to travel all the way to Arizona for this education of hers? She wouldn’t have to miss her family if she’d stayed in Montana.”

  Steve racked the balls. “From little things she’s said, I figure some cowboy did her wrong back home. But whatever happened, she’s got grit, comin’ down here all by herself and workin’ her way through school.”

  “Then maybe she’s got enough grit to handle a varmint like me.” Russ chalked the tip of his cue.

  “If I thought you’d take the whole thing seriously, I’d be all for it, but I don’t think you would.”

  “You’re right about that. I don’t take any woman seriously. Not anymore.”

  “Dammit, Russ. When are you going to—”

  “Want me to break?” Russ interrupted.

  Steve stepped away from the pool table with a sigh. “Be my guest.”

  Russ leaned over the table, lined up his stick and sent the cue ball rocketing across the green felt. It smashed into the orderly lineup of colored balls with a crack that could be heard even above the sound of Garth Brooks on the jukebox. Three balls dropped in the pockets, then Russ proceeded to clean the table, never giving Steve a shot.

  When it was over, he glanced at his brother with a brief smile. “Now pool, that’s something I take very seriously.”

  2

  JO KEPT ONE EYE on the cowboy dominating the pool table as she circulated through the room taking orders and delivering drinks. Russ might be the wild Gibson brother, but he was definitely more interesting than good old dependable Steve. Jo recognized a kindred spirit in Russ, a battered soul who was trying his best to put on a good show, the same way she was.

  She watched him lean over the pool table and execute a perfect bank shot to beat Ned. When he glanced up and caught her looking, he grinned in triumph. As she smiled back at him, the last bit of her melancholy mood disappeared. Whatever his faults, Russ had one shining virtue—he made her forget all about Tommy.

  After Russ beat Steve and Ned, other challengers wandered over and Jo saw money being exchanged as cowboys started laying bets for or against Russ. Soon the half-dozen remaining customers were gathered around the pool table as the impromptu tournament continued. The excitement seemed to make folks thirsty, because drink orders increased, along with the size of tips.

  . Jo delivered another lemonade to Steve, who was standing on the fringe of the small crowd. “Your brother’s sure good for business,” she said, handing him his drink.

  Steve nodded. “He’s drawn a crowd all his life. Stirrin’ up excitement is natural for him.” He didn’t sound jealous, just amused. “I hope I can get him up here to drive my sleigh when I finish restoring it. He’d pull money out of the tourists like crazy.”

  Jo pictured Russ in his sheepskin coat with the collar turned up and his hat pulled low over his face as he guided a horse-drawn sleigh through the snow. “I wouldn’t mind a sleigh ride, myself.”

  He glanced at her. “I’ll take you anytime you want to go. Just say the word.”

  She smiled and returned her attention to Russ, who’d just tilted his head back to polish off another beer before he lined up his next shot “You’re trying to keep me away from him, aren’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  “Come on, Steve. He can’t be that bad. He’s your brother, after all.”

  “Yeah, and I love the ornery cuss, warts and all. But he’s hell on women. I’d hate to see him throw you off track.”

  “You’re sweet. If I had a big brother, I’d want him to be exactly like y
ou.” She took a moment to admire the way Russ’s broad shoulders stretched the material of his shirt as he reached across the table to send another ball into the pocket

  “Then take some big-brother advice. Forget that guy. He’ll be on the bus back to Tucson on Sunday, anyway. I’ll make sure he doesn’t come in tomorrow night.”

  Jo felt as if someone had just snatched away a colorfully wrapped gift. “Short visit”

  “That’s the way he is: Stayin’ in one place too long makes him nervous. Even when he’s here helping me with the horseshoeing, he takes off every couple of days and spends the nights alone in the mountains, or out by Lynx Lake.”

  Jo understood that restlessness, all right. She’d left Montana as if her tail was on fire, and she’d felt such relief seeing nothing but new territory and new faces. Since she’d lived in Prescott, she’d taken her sleeping bag and camped out a few times at Lynx Lake, herself, searching for peace of mind.

  “Maybe I have no call to stick my nose in your business,” Steve said. “But you ain’t got any family here to turn to, and I think if you did, they’d be telling you the same thing. Besides that, I’d hate for my own flesh and blood to be causin’ you problems.”

  “Thanks for being so concerned about me. I—” She paused as a cowboy across the table got her attention and held up his empty glass. Turning away from the appealing sight of Russ negotiating another tricky shot, she touched Steve’s shoulder. “I’ll keep in mind everything you’ve said.” Poor Steve couldn’t know that the picture he’d painted made Russ even more irresistible.

  When she returned to the bar, Eddie had a message for Steve. Claire’s car had been making funny noises, so she and Sharon had driven home instead of staying overnight in Phoenix. They’d be pleased if their menfolk would come on home now.

  Jo delivered the message to Steve and Ned as they stood watching the pool game.

  “So much for boys’ night out,” Steve said with a grin. He didn’t look particularly upset.

  “I reckon this means I’ll have to take Sharon back to Phoenix in the mornin’,” Ned said. “She wanted me to look at a new couch, anyhow.” He didn’t seem perturbed by the change in plans, either.

  Jo smiled at them. “Neither of you cowpokes are worth a darn as swinging bachelors, are you?”

  “I guess not,” Steve said. “My brother isn’t gonna be happy about leavin’, but I’m not giving him a choice.”

  As Steve went to tell Russ about the turn of events, Jo figured that was the end of her excitement for the evening. She’d had a temporary distraction from the blues, but Steve was probably right—Russ was a risky proposition, to say the least.

  Steve came over to settle the bill. “Dusty wants a chance to play Russ one more time,” he said. “So’s he’s gonna drive him back to the Double G after that.”

  Jo worked to hide her delight. “Oh.”

  “Let Dusty take him home, Jo.”

  She pretended to refigure the amount on Steve’s tab, although she knew it was right “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Steve sighed. “Why do I feel like there’s gonna be a train wreck, and no matter how I throw the switches, it’ll happen anyway?”

  Jo handed him the bill. “You’ve been a good friend, warning me the way you have. But I’m twenty-seven years old, a grown woman, and if I can’t take care of myself by now, there’s not much hope for me.”

  “And you promise you’ll take care of yourself?”

  “I promise.” She just wasn’t sure what that meant right now. Maybe in the end she’d take Steve’s advice and stay away from Russ. But when he looked at her, she felt a zing of anticipation that she’d almost forgotten existed. Tommy had ground down most of her sexual urges, and it was nice to discover them coming back. She wasn’t ready to turn away from that good feeling—at least not quite yet.

  RUSS KNEW the smart thing would have been to go home with Steve and Ned, but doing the smart thing wasn’t exactly his trademark. Besides, Steve was getting a little heavy-handed with his interference, and Russ decided to stay partly to let Steve know he couldn’t call the shots.

  Once Steve and Ned left, Dusty ordered up another round from Jo. A couple of guys still hung around the pool table to watch, but the evening was winding down.

  As Jo brought over the beers, Russ leaned on his pool cue and watched her. Damn, but she was fine to look at. He could just imagine how nice she’d be to hold, how her hair would feel when he combed his fingers through it. She took Dusty his beer before walking around the table to Russ.

  “You’re probably wishing we’d go home so you can close up,” Russ said as he took the beer.

  She shrugged, which made the hair that fell to her shoulders dance in the light. “Not really. We’d stay open another hour whether you were here or not, and Eddie’s already told me I can go home anytime, now that it’s so slow.”

  A stab of regret surprised the hell out of him. “So you’re gonna leave?”

  She gazed at him with those smoky eyes that fascinated him so. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  He didn’t want her to leave. He wasn’t sure yet what he did want, but it wasn’t to have her disappear. He dug some change out of his pocket and held it out. “While you’re decidin’, would you pick out a few tunes on the jukebox for me?”

  “Sure.” She started to take the money from his outstretched hand.

  He closed his hand over hers. It was a very sweet contact indeed. “I didn’t tell you what I like.”

  A spark flared in her eyes. “What do you like?”

  “Hey, Russ, your shot,” Dusty called across the table.

  “Be right with you, Dusty,” he said without breaking eye contact with Jo. “Anything by Alan Jackson or Susie Bogguss.” He kept hold of her hand and stroked the back of it lightly with his thumb.

  “I like those, too. Fast songs or slow ones?”

  “You choose.” He loved the welcoming look that was coming into her eyes. His heart beat a little faster. “Does your boss let you dance with the customers?”

  “Not when we’re working.”

  He squeezed her hand and released it “Then maybe it’s time for you to get off work,” he said softly.

  Her smile was a beautiful thing to see. “Maybe it is.”

  “Any day now, Russ,” Dusty said.

  “Excuse me for a minute,” Russ said. “I have a little business to take care of.” He turned to the table and quickly assessed the available shots. He’d thought about dragging out this game a while to justify hanging around. But the bar would be open for another hour, and spending that hour dancing with Jo sounded a whole lot more appealing than playing pool with Dusty. The only hitch was that Dusty was supposed to be his ride home, and he damned sure didn’t want to walk back to the Double G.

  As one of his favorite Alan Jackson love ballads poured out of the jukebox, he glanced at the two cowboys who’d been watching the match. “Either of you guys plan to take on the winner of this game?”

  One of them stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray. “I was thinkin’ I might,” the man said. “From the way things’ve been goin’, I reckon it’ll be you.”

  “Could be.”

  “Hey, I can still take you, Russ,” Dusty said. “I figure you’re stallin’ because you’re worried.”

  Russ sighted down his stick. “Could be.”

  It took longer than he’d planned to lose to Dusty. The kid really needed to work on his game. But finally Dusty managed to put the eight ball in the pocket and swaggered over to hold out his hand to Russ.

  “Hell of a game,” Russ said, shaking Dusty’s hand.

  “You can try me again after I polish off these two.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Russ wasn’t worried about being called back to the table before closing time, considering the pace of Dusty’s game. He’d taken so damned long to win that all the songs Russ had paid for had been played already.

  Russ snapped his cue stick into the holder and picked up his h
alf-full beer glass before crossing the room to where Jo sat on a stool talking to Eddie behind the bar. His chest tightened a notch, just looking at her. He took note of the fact and told himself to calm down. A few dances, a little bodily contact—he’d enjoyed that hundreds of times without turning it into a big deal.

  He drained his glass and set it on the bar. “I need more change for the jukebox, Eddie.” He dug a five out of his wallet.

  Jo gave him an assessing look before she glanced back at the pool table. “You lost to Dusty?”

  “‘Fraid so.”

  Eddie laughed as he opened the cash register. “You’re gonna have a hard time living that down. Nobody loses to Dusty. His game is all talk.”

  “Well, he put it together this time.” Russ took his change and walked over to the jukebox. He picked slow songs, starting with a real mushy one by George Strait. Fast dancing was good for flirting when you had all night to play around, but he didn’t have much time left. He was hungry for the feel of Jo in his arms. With George Strait singing about true love, he returned to the bar.

  She glanced sideways at him, a gleam in her eye. “Ready for another beer, cowboy?”

  There was that tightness in his chest again, as if something important rode on the question he was about to ask. He took a long, slow breath. “I’m here to collect a dance, if you’re so inclined.”

  Jo turned to Eddie. “I’m officially off duty, right?”

  “Yep. Go enjoy yourself. We don’t have what you’d call a rush of business at the moment.”

  Jo laid her hat on the bar and slid off the stool.

  “Then let’s dance.” She walked to the tiny dance floor, turned and held out her arms.

  He made the mistake of looking into her eyes as he gathered her in, and he couldn’t seem to look away again. The sweetness of her body against his almost made him moan out loud, and his system started going haywire as they moved with the music. This is no big deal, he reminded himself again, trying desperately to believe it. Dear God, but Jo felt good cuddled up against him like this.

  “Steve says you like to camp out at Lynx Lake sometimes,” she said.