Santa Wore Spurs

by Various

  After he heard the shower start down the hall, Cord called Ryan Easter to tell him the photo shoot was off so they didn't make an unnecessary trip to Tyler. He knew the cowboys had precious few days off on the rodeo circuit, so he didn't want them to waste their time coming to the ranch.

  "Hey, Pretty Boy," Ryan answered with a smile in his voice. "You're interrupting my facial and pedicure, dude," he teased. When Cord left the rodeo circuit to model for Laramie, his friends had given him absolute hell. They said he was going to turn into a metrosexual yuppie, who lounged by the pool in a thong sipping umbrella drinks.

  "Damn, you needed one, you rough bastard. They probably needed a sandblaster, and a gallon of lard," Cord replied with a chuckle.

  "Not quite, but shit, I see now why you switched teams."

  Cord smiled. Ryan knew damn well he hadn't switched anything, except careers. "Hell, maybe you'll be so pretty when they get done with you, I'll give you a shot at this."

  Ryan groaned. "No, thank you. I'm still batting for the home team and I know you are too," he said with a laugh. "Everything set up for the photo shoot?"

  Cord sobered. "Something came up, Ryan. I really wanted to see you guys, but we're canceling the shoot. Tell the guys thanks for offering to help, will ya?"

  "What came up? They were pretty damn excited. Especially Zack. You know how jealous he was when that woman offered you the Laramie gig instead of him."

  Yeah, Cord knew. Tonya had been talking to Zack and Cord about the job at the same time. Cord almost wished she had picked Zack for the job knowing what he knew now. But then he wouldn't wish that woman on anyone.

  "How many guys did you round up?" Cord asked.

  "Six, including me. Then Twyla insisted on coming to help make sure we look pretty enough," he said with a laugh. Twyla was Ryan's best friend and Zack's sister. Cord wondered why the two of them had never hooked up. She was country girl gorgeous, and also a barrel racer on the circuit. And everyone knew that Zack's little sister had been in love with Ryan for years. Cord figured Ryan stayed away because of Zack. Twyla's brother was extremely overprotective.

  "Who else?" Cord asked out of curiosity.

  "Lucky, Coop, Gray and Tucker. Then, of course, since Twyla wants to come, her shadow, Zack, wouldn't miss it, especially since I'll be there." Cord heard the frustration in his friend's voice, but until Ryan decided to do something about it, face Zack head on about his feelings for Twyla, he would stay frustrated.

  "Well, I'm damn sorry for canceling. It's just not a good time." Cord shut his eyes then voiced the words that made his stomach roll. "My daddy is sick."

  "Sick?" Ryan asked, his voice serious. "Sick, sick?"

  Cord swallowed hard. "Dying sick, man," he replied.

  There was silence for a minute then Ryan asked, "Is that why you're at the ranch?"

  "I'm done with modeling. I'm back here for good. The ranch is in sad shape, and Dean needs help."

  "Well, we're coming out there to help too, then. Whether you like it or not, you're gonna be stuck with all of us while we're off," Ryan insisted.

  "You sure? I know you guys probably want to spend time with your families," he offered to give them an out.

  "Wouldn't want to be anywhere else. We'll be there in the morning," Ryan said firmly. Relief shot through Cord and then gratitude. He could definitely use their help.

  It just amazed him that they were willing. But then not so much. That was the way cowboys worked. Real cowboys weren't fair weather friends. When the chips were down, they always had each other's backs. Cord was just damn glad to still be included among their ranks since he had left them three years ago without a second glance. That was something else he now regretted. These guys were his real friends, and he had turned his back on them just like he'd turned his back on his family.

  "Thanks, man. I look forward to seeing you," Cord said. They talked a few more minutes then he hung up, feeling a little less alone than he had before the call.

  "Hey, I'm ready," Hope said from the doorway of the kitchen. Cord glanced over at her then did a double take.

  "I'd say." Cord smiled at her as he took in the pretty emerald green silk shirt she had on with her blue jeans. It made her eyes the same color, and her red hair stood in stark contrast. Christmas. She looked like Christmas. Hope made him feel less alone in this sad situation too, but he didn't know why. "You look beautiful. My daddy and brother better keep their hands to themselves," he growled playfully and her face turned pink.

  Cord smiled wider. She was so damn cute.

  "Who were you talking to?" she asked, walking to the table.

  "That was Ryan Easter. The guys are still coming out. They have a two week break and want to help while they're off."

  "Really?" Her eyes widened as she took a seat at the table.

  "Yeah, that's what cowboys do," he informed proudly.

  "Well, I think cowboys are my kind of men then," she replied with a bright smile.

  "The best there are."

  My kind of men. His smile faded because Hope was adorable. She would be just the kind of woman his friends would go for too. He prayed the guys would be too busy to mess with her, but knew they were good at multi-tasking, especially where pretty women were concerned. He knew how the single guys on the rodeo circuit operated. He had been one of those guys for several years.

  They were tumbleweeds and had more lines than a three-act play. Definitely Romeos, but not the settling type. Being young and single, his friends had plenty of oats left to sow, and when they were off, they sowed them in many different gardens. Cord was going to make sure they knew the flower in front of him was off limits to cultivation.

  Hope Carlisle was fresh out of a serious relationship, naive and ripe to be hurt. Cord wouldn't let that happen, especially with men he introduced her to. He would just have to lay down the law to his buddies and stake a claim on her. They would leave her alone. That was another thing about cowboys. They didn't poach another man's woman.

  Even though she wouldn't really be his woman, his friends wouldn't know that. Cord would love nothing more than to get to know Hope better. He really liked her. But he knew where his head needed to be right now, and that wasn't up his ass while he chased a woman.

  "Why don't you go get cleaned up too. I can wait," she offered with one of her beautiful smiles. "You haven't seen your mama in a while, right?"

  Cord looked down at himself and realized his t-shirt had mascara streaks on the front mixed with the dust and dirt he'd picked up while cleaning the bunkhouse. His jeans were just as dirty. He hadn't even realized how it would look if he went up to the house looking like he did. His mama would probably send him right back to change. Anticipation at seeing her filled him, and he smiled. "Yeah, just give me five minutes."

  Four minutes later, Cord walked back into the kitchen, smiling. When he got closer, Hope deeply inhaled his piney scent because she couldn't help herself. He smelled like the outdoors, manly and clean. Whatever bath gel he used made her mouth water. The delicious picture he made, standing in the doorway with his hair wet, did too.

  She could imagine running her fingers through that thick mass, and pulling it while he kissed her. Everything about Cord Dixon made her hungry for more. Yeah, he was good looking, spectacularly so, but there was more to him than that. He seemed genuine, kind, and funny, even in the face of the horrible things he was dealing with.

  "You ready?" he asked with a smile.

  "Yeah," she said as she pushed up from the table.

  Cord slapped a black Stetson on his head then held his arm out to her. Her heart wiggled in her chest at the gentlemanly gesture. This guy was the whole package. Looks, charm, and manners. A lethal combination that would be damn hard for any woman to resist. To a woman who hadn't ever been exposed to a man like him? Irresistible.

  Hope walked over and slid her arm through his then Cord walked her to the front door and opened it for her. He followed her onto the porch then put his hand at her lower b
ack at the steps. Hope was damn tempted to suggest they skip dinner as tingles shot up her spine to raise the hair at the back of her neck. Her stomach rumbled in protest.

  "You hungry, Tinkerbell?" he asked with a laugh, opening the truck door for her. She stepped on the running board then sat on the seat.

  "Famished."

  "Well, when you leave my mama's table, you won't want to eat again for a few days. She cooks like she's feeding an army," he said as he shut the door and jogged around the truck.

  An hour later, Hope figured out that Cord hadn't been kidding. She laid her fork down beside her plate and leaned back in her chair, contemplating unbuttoning her jeans. Dean and Cord were still shoveling in food from their second helpings, talking in between bites. Mrs. Dixon sat across the table from her with a soft, pleased smile on her face.

  "Mrs. Dixon, that meal was amazing. Thank you for having me in your home," Hope said. Mrs. Dixon turned eyes on her that were exactly the same shade as Cord's. Hope could see where he got his good looks from. His mother was beautiful.

  Cord was the male version of his petite mother. The only thing she hadn't given him was his size. His daddy must be a big man because there was nothing petite about Cord Dixon. Dean was large too, but a little shorter and stockier than Cord.

  "Oh, honey. I'm glad you're here. I'm glad Cord brought you," Mrs. Dixon replied as she stood and picked up her plate. She leaned over the table to get Hope's plate, but Hope grabbed it first.

  "I'll help you clean up," she offered but Mrs. Dixon shook her head.

  "You stay here and talk to the boys," she insisted.

  "No, ma'am. You cooked, and I'm going to help you clean up." Hope stood and picked up her plate and glass. She looked over at Cord and Dean, who were still eating. "Besides, they'll probably be a while."

  "Maw Maw, can I have more cobbler?" Jeremy asked with a smile that matched his uncle's when he was in charmer mode.

  "You've had enough, honey. I don't want you to be up all night with a bellyache," Mrs. Dixon replied. She was obviously immune to that smile. All three of the males in her life, probably all four, used it to get what they wanted.

  Hope wasn't immune.

  She looked at her own dessert that she hadn't been able to finish. A couple of bites were left. With a glance at Mrs. Dixon's back as she walked to the kitchen, Hope nudged the bowl toward Jeremy and winked at him. He gave her that heart-melting smile as he pulled the bowl in front of him. When she looked back up, two sets of eyes were on her. One of the men was frowning in disapproval and the other had a playful smile that told her she was busted.

  "Oh..." she stuttered as heat rushed to her face.

  Dean's eyes narrowed on his son. "Your grandma said no more dessert," he reprimanded. Jeremy's smile faded. Hope's face got hotter as she reached for the bowl.

  The last thing she wanted to do was come between Cord and his brother. Or Dean and his son. Throughout dinner, the tension was so thick she thought she might have to use her knife to cut through it. Cord's hand closed over hers and he gave Dean a hard look. "Chill out, bro," he said. "You used to do the same damn thing."

  "Don't get in the middle of it, Cord," Dean warned. He tilted his chin at Jeremy. "Give her the bowl, son, and excuse yourself. You need to have a bath and go to bed."

  Jeremy didn't move. Dean laid down his fork beside his plate, but kept his eyes on his son until he pushed the bowl to Hope and stood. Without a word, the boy turned and walked toward his bedroom with his chin down. Hope wondered if she was the only one who saw the kid's fists clenched at his side.

  "Jeremy," she called across the room, and he stopped in his tracks.

  Shoulders stiff, he slowly turned back toward her. "Yes, ma'am?"

  Hope saw the shine of tears in his eyes, and it tore at her heart. It was her fault he was in trouble. "Would you mind if I came and read you a story once you're settled in bed?" she asked with a tight smile.

  Jeremy's eyes widened. The frown on his cute face eased a little, but his eyes darted to his father. "Could Miss Hope read me a story, Daddy?"

  Dean's jaw worked as he grabbed his fork. After a second, he swallowed, but his lips tightened as he said, "Fine."

  "Thank you," Hope said politely, but Dean was focused on his plate.

  So much for Cord worrying about his brother and father liking her too much. As much as she'd tried to engage him in conversation, be friendly and polite, Dean acted like she was an interloper. She wondered if their father would feel the same way. According to Dean and his mother, Mr. Dixon would be gone a couple more days.

  Hope grabbed the bowl, stacked Jeremy's plate on top of hers, then turned toward the kitchen with emotion choking her. It seemed like Dean had taken an instant dislike to her, and nothing she did was going to change that.

  A chair scraped behind her and a large, warm hand dropped on her shoulder. Cord leaned close to her ear. "Don't let him bother you, Tinkerbell. He's mad at the world. It's not you. I'll talk to him."

  "I don't want to cause problems, Cord. Maybe it would be better if I go back home." That's not what she wanted to do, but Hope didn’t want to interfere here either.

  He turned her toward him and put his hands on her shoulders. "I thought you were tough like your grandma," Cord said gruffly. "Find your backbone and don't let him get to you. I'm not letting you renege. I need your help."

  "You need my help?" she repeated with an unbelieving half smile. Cord had all the help he needed coming in the morning. A literal posse of help. "You have six cowboys coming out here to help you. You don't need me."

  "I need you," Cord replied, his eyes glittering strangely. Hope's heart fluttered because the way he said it made his statement sound almost sexual.

  A chair scraped back from the table. Dean stood, wiped his mouth angrily, then threw his napkin down. He shot them a hot glare before walking toward the hallway at the back of the house.

  "Your brother doesn't want me here," she replied softly.

  "Well, that's too damn bad for him. We'll go buy groceries tomorrow so we don't even have to come up here to eat. He can wallow in his self-pity by himself."

  "Why does he pity himself?" Hope asked as she walked over to pick up Dean's plate from the table.

  "His wife left him, I left him...now my daddy's leaving him."

  Hope looked up into Cord's sad eyes. Hers burned too. She swallowed then said, "I can understand that he's upset about your daddy and his wife. But letting it make him bitter won't help the situation. Has he always been like this?"

  "No, he used to be fun. Happy-go-lucky. This isn't him at all," Cord replied with a shake of his head. "He was pretty torn up when I told him I was leaving right after Cindy left. My timing sucked." Cord picked up the pot with the leftover roast and put the lid on it. "I'm sorry he's being an ass, but please don't take it personally."

  "It sure seems personal." It was almost like Dean resented his brother for coming back, and blamed her for Cord being.

  When the kitchen was clean, Mrs. Dixon headed to bed, and she and Cord walked down the hall to Jeremy's bedroom. He was already asleep, and it tore at Hope's heart to see him frowning in his sleep. Kids were supposed to go to sleep with a smile on their face, not look worried. This child had been through a lot, and his daddy needed to see that and go easier on him.

  She would almost bet Dean hadn't ever had a heart-to-heart with the kid to see how he felt about his mother leaving. But Hope knew it wasn't her place to interfere in that situation. She certainly didn't want to invite more anger from Dean, that's for sure.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Saturday morning at dawn, Hope cradled a cup of hot coffee as she stepped out onto the wide front porch of the bunkhouse to inhale the cool crisp air. Things smelled different in the country, earthy and fresh. She felt different too. Out here, her mind could settle enough for her to think about things. Hope sat down in one of the rockers on the porch and curled her feet up beneath her to do just that.

  It was near midnig
ht when Cord finally insisted they stop cleaning and pick a bed to pass out on. Although she was tired and sore this morning, Hope felt a sense of accomplishment she hadn't felt in a long time. Sometime during the night, she'd also woken up with an idea for how they could salvage the shoot and get the work done at the ranch too. The more she thought about it, the better the idea seemed. Cord needed the money they could make from that calendar. She needed it too since she’d quit the mall job.

  Gray mist hovered over the pasture in the distance, occluding all but the top of the big wooden barn. The animals in the field were only black dots in the mist, but she knew there were horses on one side of the road and cows on the other. Once that barn and the other outbuildings were given some attention, the ranch would be very impressive. She imagined it had been several years ago.

  The screen door squeaked and scratched across the porch floor as it opened. Hope glanced over, and a sexily rumpled Cord walked out onto the porch, shirtless, in a pair of old sweats with a hole near the knee. He smiled sleepily and stretched his hands over his head while he yawned. His tightly packed muscles bunched beneath his skin, rippling like water over rocks. Something wet and sensual flowed through Hope at the gorgeous sight. Her fingers itched to have her camera in her hand so she could capture that sensuality. The photographer for Laramie sure hadn't done Cord Dixon justice.

  "Morning, Tinkerbell," he said with another sexy yawn as he sat down in the rocker beside her. His smile heated up her insides. "I thought you would have slept in today."

  If he was in bed with her, she definitely would have. That sleepy voice of his was something she wouldn't mind hearing when she woke up.

  She put her palm against her coffee cup and wondered if his skin would feel just as warm under her palm. Her eyes traced over each indention of his six-pack abs then followed that tantalizing happy trail to the waistband of his low-slung drawstring pants. Her cheeks heated when they accidentally dropped to his very impressive morning erection. Hope jerked her eyes back to his. "Why do you call me that?"