A Cowgirl at Heart

by Christine Lynxwiler

  The camper door opened slowly, and Andrew stepped out onto the top step. “Hey!”

  She gave him a weak wave then climbed out of the Jeep.

  “What’s up?” A flicker of concern crossed his face.

  “Nothing. I ... um ... okay, this is probably pushy.” She walked around to the back of the Jeep and popped open the hatch. “But I brought you a little Christmas tree for your camper, if you want it.”

  A grin chased away the concern. “For me?”

  She nodded. “I was buying a poinsettia to take by the rehab for Maxine, but then I smelled the trees, and when I saw this one, it had your name all over it.”

  He heaved the little cedar out and balanced it on his shoulder. “I love it.”

  She blew out her breath. In that case, she was glad she’d gone by and picked up the box of small ornaments she usually used for her grooming shop tree. She’d had too much on her mind to put one up in there this year, and this was for a better cause anyway. She snagged the box from the back and closed it with a bang.

  Inside, Andrew propped the tree against the counter. “I can’t believe you did this. It smells so good.”

  She set the box on the table. “It does, doesn’t it?” No need to tell him the scent gave her courage. “I brought you trimmings so you can decorate it.”

  “You’ll have to help me.”

  That’s what she’d hoped he would say.

  “The first thing we need is mood music.” She set up her portable CD player and hit play.

  The opening notes of “Jingle Bells” filled the camper, and Andrew smiled.

  “So what kind of tree did you have when you were growing up?” Elyse glanced over at him as she laid the tiny ornaments out on the counter. She set the string of lights out and heaved a small tree stand from the bottom of the box and handed it to him.

  He took the green and red tree stand and studied it. The screws that stuck out on all four sides seemed to captivate him. He twisted them back and forth, one at a time. He ran his fingers inside the small cupped-out area for water. “We didn’t have a tree after my mom died.” He moved a small table from in front of the window. “But my grandma and grandpa always did, and every year on Christmas Day, we’d spend about four hours there.” A wry grin twisted his mouth. “When I was young, I’d look forward to those four hours all year long.”

  Elyse knew Andrew didn’t want her sympathy, so she kept her mouth shut. But her heart ached for the little boy still lurking inside the man beside her.

  She squatted and held the tree stand with her hands. He wordlessly lifted the tiny tree and put it into the stand. She tightened the screws.

  She stopped and guided the tree with one hand. “To the left a little.”

  He tilted it to the left.

  “No, no, to the right.”

  He pushed the tree to the right.

  “Back a little. Okay, okay, perfect!”

  She stood and dusted her hands on her jeans. Andrew was staring at her, and she was suddenly aware of how small the camper was.

  He cleared his throat and picked up an ornament. “So what do we do? Just stick these all over?”

  He’d never decorated a tree before. That reality hit her like a snowplow. “Not yet. The lights go on first.” She pulled out a string of lights and handed one end to him. “Get that started at the top.” She cast him another glance. “If you don’t mind.”

  His fingers brushed hers as he took the end of the string of lights, and for a brief second, Elyse thought they were plugged in. They were standing almost shoulder to shoulder in the close quarters of the camper.

  They slowly wrapped the lights around the tree. Every time their hands brushed, which was with each coil, Elyse felt the same electrical shock. Was he feeling that, too? She couldn’t be sure. Maybe chatting would stop it. “Do you like Christmas?”

  He glanced up and stared at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. For a second, she thought he wasn’t going to answer the question. Then his blue eyes came back into focus. He gave his head a little shake. “What?”

  “Christmas. Do you like it?”

  “Oh. Yes. I like it. Especially this year.” He patted the lights against the tree. “Thanks to the tree, of course.”

  Elyse stared into his blue eyes and blushed. “Of course.”

  “You’re—” He stopped. “Nothing.”

  Her brow creased. “What?”

  He straightened an ornament of a tiny mouse making a list then looked back at her. “I almost said you’re beautiful when you blush. But the truth is, I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, blushing or not.”

  “Oh.” She stared into his blue eyes, mesmerized. What could she say—“You’re pretty cute yourself”? That’s what Kaleigh would say. But then what? Even though Elyse hadn’t asked him about his wife’s death, she was pretty sure he was still grieving. That would explain what he’d meant that night when he’d said he had nothing to offer her but the moment. If that was the case, she needed to give him space. Not stand three inches from him. She took a step back. Maybe bringing the tree had been a mistake. “Thank you.”

  Andrew took a step back, too, and carefully made the last two passes with the lights around the tree. Whether it was just a coincidence, or a plan on his part, his hand didn’t touch Elyse’s. When they were done, she dug into the box and picked up a tiny red Santa and handed it to him. “Hook this over a limb.”

  She lifted a tiny crystal snowman and looped the silver wire hanger over the limb nearest her.

  Andrew reached back for a candy cane ornament. He gave Elyse a sideways glance. “Jeremy invited me to the wedding.”

  “Really?” That will save me from having to ask you myself.

  Andrew nodded. “I’m flattered.” He cleared his throat. “I know you’ll be there in your official maid-of-honor status, but would you like to go with me?”

  “I’d love to.” She’d deal with the teasing from her family. It would be worth it. “I’m really nervous about the wedding.”

  “Walking down the aisle in front of everyone?”

  See? That was one of the things she loved about him. He knew what she meant without her having to spell it out. “There’ll be a big crowd, and for that few minutes, all eyes will be on me.”

  “I’ll be there, and if you look like you’re going to faint, I’ll just stand up and walk to you. We’ll pretend it’s part of the plan.”

  She laughed. But she knew he meant it. He wouldn’t hesitate to come to her, to embarrass himself in front of all the guests, if he thought she needed him.

  She passed a tiny teapot to Andrew. He must have loved his wife so much. “How long ago did your wife die?”

  He fumbled the teapot and barely caught it. “Whoa, that came out of nowhere.” He carefully hung it on the tree. “Three years.”

  And he was still grieving enough that he wouldn’t let himself commit to the obvious feelings he had for Elyse. She bent over the box to pick up another ornament. Somehow, it made the delay easier knowing that when he did commit to her, his heart would be hers for life.

  She placed a little ornament that spelled out Joy on a top branch. That was what she wanted to bring into Andrew’s life. He deserved it.

  A few minutes later, they stood back to survey their handiwork.

  “Wonder what it will look like with the lights out,” Elyse mused.

  He nodded toward the light switch by the door behind her, and she flipped it. The tiny Christmas tree was a beacon of multihued light in the darkness. The bright colors reflected in Andrew’s eyes as he watched her across the small room.

  Her heartbeat sped up. “What do you think?”

  He still watched her. “Perfect.”

  CHAPTER 30

  She flipped the light back on and started to gather the unused decorations into her box, studiously avoiding his gaze. She needed air. Unless she wanted to grab him and kiss him until he committed to more than this moment, she seriously n
eeded air right now. “Want to see what the tree looks like from outside?”

  “Sure.”

  She practically fell out the door.

  Andrew stopped to turn the light out and followed her.

  The small tree transformed the window of the camper into a twinkling stained-glass window. “Oh, it’s beautiful.” Her breath made tiny puffs of steam. She shivered. The air had cooled considerably since she’d gone into the camper an hour ago.

  He put his arm around her, drawing her to his warmth. She couldn’t resist—she rested her head against his shoulder.

  “Thank you again,” he said, close to her ear. “I love it.”

  “You’re welcome.” I love you. That’s what she wanted to say. She stared up at the stars. So close and yet—in reality—so far. “I’m going to have to go.”

  “Let me get your box.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” By the time she’d finished saying it, he was coming out with the box in his hand. “But thanks.” She rushed over to open the back door of the Jeep, and he set the box inside. She slammed the door shut.

  He stood close again, facing her.

  The look in his eyes didn’t bode well for her promise to herself. If she stayed another minute, he’d kiss her. Or at least try. And she didn’t want to do that again until he explained his cryptic words about not having anything to offer her. Yet she didn’t want to ask him for an explanation. So she’d be patient. A virtue, after all.

  She eased toward the driver’s door. “Good night.” Still keeping her eyes on him, she slid into the seat.

  A grin darted across his lips. “Good night. And thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome.” As she drove away, she asked God to protect her heart. Her own defenses seemed useless when it came to the good-looking Texan.

  ***

  When Kaleigh woke up Monday morning, she turned over and slapped her alarm. No sticky note came away on her hand. Just like that, she remembered. She was done. There were no more steps to a “new her.” For a few moments, she stared at the ceiling, mentally tracing a tiny crack in the Sheetrock. She could finally admit that her big plan had been flawed.

  On the boat, when she’d tried to merge who she was pretending to be with who she really was, she’d felt like a fraud. Even though Chance had teased her, she knew he’d been embarrassed. That doctor had thought she was crazy. And she’d given Jared Tolliver enough ammunition to use against her for the next decade. Of course, she wouldn’t have been late to begin with if she hadn’t been sneaking around, trying to keep Carlton from knowing she wanted to interview Nicole Broome.

  She rolled over and fluffed her pillow. Since she wasn’t going to straighten her hair today, she could doze a few more minutes.

  She punched the pillow again then sat up. She’d get ready early and find Carlton. She needed to let him off the hook.

  An hour later she found him in the cafeteria drinking black coffee and reading War and Peace. She sat next to him.

  “Good morning,” he said, barely looking up.

  Then he did a double take. “Kaleigh?”

  She smiled. She’d worn her neon green top with a matching tank over her faded flared-bottom jeans. Her funky potato shoes completed the outfit. And her hair flowed down her back in loose curls. It was good to be back. “It’s definitely me.”

  “What happened?”

  Her smile faded. She launched into her prepared speech with the enthusiasm of someone reading her own obituary. “I wanted to be someone I wasn’t. And you got caught in the crossfire. But I finally realized that—even though I’d like to change some things—for the most part I’m happy being me. And the real me ... isn’t someone that you’d date.”

  He frowned. “How do you know?”

  She laughed. “Trust me, I know.”

  His eyes scanned her, and he shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll take your word for it.” Typical. She stuck out her hand. “But we can still be friends, if you’re willing.”

  He stared at her hand, and for a second she thought he was going to refuse it, but he gave her a firm handshake. Mild curiosity was the strongest emotion in his eyes. “So are you going to go to your sister’s wedding alone?”

  She shook her head. “I’m going with myself.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  She started to explain the difference, but on second thought, she just smiled. “I’ll see you around, Carlton.”

  He nodded, and before she’d pushed her chair all the way back, he turned back to his book.

  She practically skipped to class. Operation Old Me was a big success.

  ***

  Andrew set his coffee down on the table and took the extra few steps to plug the tree lights in. He loved having it, but more than anything, every time he looked at it, he thought of Elyse.

  His pen and ink drawing of her lay on the table, and he ran his finger over it. He’d almost been busted the night she’d brought the tree. It had taken him forever to put the canvas and his small paint set away. Then he’d left the drawing out and had to shove it in a drawer while she was carrying the box in.

  She hadn’t suspected, though, and with any luck, she’d be surprised. It was fitting in a way to use the last of his paints and his last canvas to paint a picture of her. He just hoped he didn’t run out before he finished.

  He retrieved his coffee and sank onto the couch. The twinkling lights brightened the dull winter morning. His phone rang, and he glanced at the caller ID. His dad. Andrew had considered calling him on Thanksgiving but hadn’t wanted to face the usual questions. Still, he couldn’t not answer. He flipped it open. “Hello?”

  “I thought you might be home for Thanksgiving.”

  “Didn’t you work?” Andrew would have pulled the words back if he could have. They revealed too much of the hurt he’d always had that his dad pulled extra shifts on holidays. Sure, crime soared. But other people squeezed in family time. After Andrew’s mom died, he’d always known that his dad hadn’t really considered the two of them a family. A self-fulfilling prophecy, he thought wryly.

  “No. I took off this year on the chance that you’d be here.”

  So they were going to play the guilt game. No winner there, that was for sure. They both had their fair share. “Sorry.”

  “Oh well, maybe next year. Unless ... are you coming home for Christmas?”

  Andrew frowned. “Since when do you want me home for the holidays? Our life isn’t a Jimmy Stewart movie.”

  “Maybe it could be a little closer to one if you weren’t off chasing the wind.”

  “Sorry, Dad. I’m going to be here through Christmas. I’ll let you know what I’m doing after that.” He took a sip of coffee.

  “Does she know about Melanie?”

  He froze with his cup still to his lips. “Who?”

  “You know. Elyse McCord.”

  “How do you know about Elyse?” Andrew slammed the coffee cup on the table and bought time to answer a question he didn’t want to think about.

  “I can access online newspapers just like anyone else can. Looks like you played the hero.”

  Andrew didn’t answer.

  “You think this Zeke is the one who killed Melanie?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “They haven’t found him yet?”

  “No. Not that you need to ask me that.” With his dad’s Texas Ranger resources, any police information was at his fingertips.

  “So Elyse McCord doesn’t know you were a murder suspect?”

  Andrew lowered his voice even though he knew he was alone in the camper. “Not yet.”

  “When are you planning on telling her?”

  He should have told her the other night when she’d asked how long ago his wife died. But he hadn’t wanted to ruin the moment. “After Christmas.”

  “Probably smart.” His dad’s voice grew sharp. “The holidays are an awful time to be alone.”

  And just like always, he was gone without a good-bye.
r />   ***

  Elyse had tried not to imagine this part of Crystal’s wedding. But now it was here. She had to step out into the arched doorway and face the crowd. Walk up to the front with them all watching. She wasn’t going to be a baby on Crystal’s big day. And she definitely wasn’t going to faint.

  “Concentrate on walking in time to the music,” her mama had suggested last night at the rehearsal. “Forget about the guests.”