Pumpkins, Cowboys & Guitars

by Patti Ann Colt

  Zach quirked a brow at her. “You really want to be up all night?”

  Her mind flashed over to what they could do with those all night hours and she shivered, anticipation licking over her senses.

  She silently sighed.

  Wouldn’t happen. The man’s heart was sealed with a closed sign. If the last week was any indication he had a heavy dose of responsibility and no plans to treat her any other way than a little sister which disgusted her no end. Hell, the only thing she was sure of was her feelings. His were nebulous, unspoken, and colored with glances and angry calls with Carlee’s mother.

  She didn’t have the energy right now to push him. “Physically, I don’t think anything could keep me awake all night right now, so you don’t have anything to worry about, Sheriff.” The title was more for her than him, but it made him appraise her, the silence going deep until she thought she’d scream.

  “Fine. I’ll make you some.”

  “Thank you. Can I have my phone now?”

  Zach shoveled the last of his soup into his mouth, then rose and went to the pegs by the back door. He fished her cell phone out of his pocket and slid it across the counter to her. He lifted his bowl and filled it with more soup, then put the coffee pot to perking.

  The phone rang in her hand.

  She jumped, teetering on her stool and slapped her hand to her chest. Her racing heart making her lightheaded. “Geesh.”

  Zach smirked. “Told you. He calls almost every hour. I’m about to shoot the damn cell phone.”

  “He’d only come up here.” She cleared her fragile throat and answered. “I’m alive. You can stop now.”

  “Well, hell. I was beginning to wonder.” Banning’s aggrieved tone reeked with frustration.

  “I’m fine. Getting back on my feet,” she rasped out.

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “A week ago I couldn’t even talk, so this is a huge improvement. Has Cale said anything?”

  “Lucky for you he’s gone on a cruise for the holidays. He asked about you before he left, but I told him you were still taking some down time with friends and didn’t want anyone to know where you were.”

  Leia snorted. “He settled for that again?”

  “Nope. I just didn’t give him anything else.”

  “I’m giving you a raise, just so you know.”

  He was silent for a long moment, reminding her of the strong silent type that defined Zach. “I don’t do this for the money. Somebody needs to have your back. I’m qualified for the job.”

  Zach put a cup of coffee in front of her and she couldn’t help visually tracing the lines of his face, tough, lean, and tired.

  “Thanks, Mark. I appreciate that more than you’ll know.”

  He sighed. “You shouldn’t have let him run you like that. You should just tell him about the house there, what you want. This is your career, your life.”

  “I know. I will. When I’m stronger. I do need one thing.”

  “Name it.”

  “Can you go by my house in Beverly Hills and make sure it’s closed and locked up tight?”

  “All ready did so. Changed your maid service, kept the lawn and pool service and had the locks changed to all the doors with a new security code.”

  She slumped in her chair. “Cale know yet?” He used her house more than she did to entertain, to impress.

  “Nope. He’ll figure it out when he gets back from his trip. Until then, it’s secure.”

  “Thank you.” She had no idea how much the notion bothered her of Cale having access to her house with his random slew of party friends. She’d have to think about this. It was just one more chink in the armor of their relationship.

  Sadness overwhelmed her. There had been a time when she turned to him for everything and now she couldn’t talk to him. The notion shattered her inside, making the wound weep.

  Zach reached across the bar and touched her hand, pulling her out of her morose thoughts. She gave him a small smile.

  “Well, I’ll quit calling so much now that I’ve talked to you.”

  “I’m resting, I promise. I have my phone back. You can get me whenever you need to. I'll be back on my feet soon. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Leia. Call if you need me. Tell that Sheriff to keep an eye on you.”

  “I will.” She disconnected and carefully laid the phone by her coffee cup. Lifting her eyes, she gazed at Zach’s deep blue eyes, drawing some of his strength.

  “Problems?”

  She took a sip of her coffee and damn near groaned. The man looked like sex on a stick and his coffee was lust inspiring delicious. She took another sip, and another and couldn’t help the groan this time. “Good coffee, Sheriff. And nothing new.”

  “Don’t dwell on it. Nothing to be done right now except rest, eat, and get well.”

  He had a way of reducing things to the smallest common denominator and for that she appreciated his insight. Her fingers trembled and she set her mug down.

  “Guess I’m ready for more rest.” She eyed the hall, not sure she could walk all the way back to her bedroom. The deep pillows of her navy tweed sofa called to her. “You mind propping me on the sofa? I’m sick of my room.”

  He watched her for a minute. “Finish your coffee. I’ll get some blankets.”

  Ten minutes later, he helped her to the sofa. For a brief, breath-holding moment, he looked like he’d lift her and carry her, then thought better of it. She wasn’t sure whether to be gladdened by the confidence in her wellness or saddened by the robbery of the skin contact.

  He hovered, though, and helped her tuck a blanket around her legs and handed her the remote. “More coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He took her mug and filled it, then quickly cleared and washed the dishes. When he came back to the living room, she’d turned on a classic movie channel and started watching Miracle on 34th Street, the older version. He sat down in the chair opposite her.

  He ran a finger around the neck of his flannel shirt. “Uh, something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

  She glanced at him and stifled a big yawn. “What?”

  “Carlee thinks you want a Christmas tree.” That wasn’t what she thought he was going to say, and yet the statement struck her, stirring nostalgia and grief and hope.

  “I did, but I don’t have one or any decorations for that matter. It’s too late.”

  “I figured and it’s not too late.”

  She sighed, tears filling her eyes. She hated admitting her weakness. “I don’t have the energy for that, Zach.” She missed her mother so much and when she’d bought this house, she’d had plans to revive those memories and the traditions.

  “Hence, why Carlee wants Beau and I to go buy you some and to have a little party here on Saturday to decorate. Ten days to Christmas and you have no tree and no outside decorations.”

  She’d stood on the corner in October when she’d bought the house and imagined putting up decorations, of covering every eave, every tree, every railing with lights. Of a big Christmas tree in the front window. But she’d been so busy she hadn’t taken the time to make that particular vision come true. Her throat filled with emotions so deep she couldn’t sort it all out.

  “If you hate the idea, we can leave it.”

  She had to clear her throat several times before she could get out an answer. “I don’t hate the idea. I love it, actually. Does the hardware store have lights left?”

  “Maybe. If not, we can get Wyatt to buy the lot in Denver and make a trip.”

  The hopeful idea combined with all his family was willing to do for her did bring the tears. She quelled them as best she could but a few slipped out and down the side of her face. She reached up to wipe them away, hoping he hadn’t seen.

  Zach saw any way. “Tears?”

  “Tired. Leave it to Carlee to figure out what I’d hoped to do.”

  “She’s a smart young woman.”

  Leia smiled.
“Yes, she is. I’d wanted lights on all the trees, railing, eaves and a tree in the window, but I figured after that last commitment before the holidays I’d have time. Guess that was poor planning, huh?”

  “The collapse part or the decoration part?” He gave her a crooked grin.

  She snorted, then went silent. “I hate to ask. You’re already doing so much for me.”

  “You didn’t ask. We volunteered. Live or fake?”

  Her eyes went to the large paned window. “Live, I think.”

  “Figures. Just had to force me to get the axe out.” He grinned.

  “If it’s too much trouble.” Her voice trailed off; she was more than aware of how her life had overtaken his.

  He leaned forward, all trace of humor off his face. “Teasing, honey. I’ll go out to Slim’s tree farm and get one. No fuss. No problem.”

  Her eyes went to the window again, the vision dancing in her head just like sugar plums.

  He cleared his throat. “I have to go get Carlee now. The two of you can plan the decorations and tell me what you want to buy. Sound good?”

  She nodded, her eyes tracing back to him as he rose. She wasn’t sure who was more surprised when he stepped forward, leaned down and put a finger under her chin.

  His lips settled on hers. A peck would have translated the warmth and caring of the offer and the friendship they’d developed. This was neither warm nor caring. Hot, firm and demanding, his lips caressed hers. Gentle questing lips tasted, savored, revealed.

  A bolt of heat flashed through her, of want so deep she trembled with it. It took another few seconds for her brain to catch up and she lifted her hand, pushing her fingers up his chest to rest on his heart, felt the racing beat and softened her lips against his.

  He groaned and pulled away, sucked in a deep breath and dropped his hands.

  She’d kill him if he apologized.

  He didn’t. He didn’t look at her either, just strode to the kitchen, jammed his cowboy hat on his head, forced arms through the sleeves of his ski jacket and walked out the door.

  She touched her hand to her lips.

  Just went to prove that America’s Favorite Rock Star didn’t know a damn thing about what went on deep inside Zach Murphy.

  But she wanted to, oh God yes, she wanted to.

  Zach swore as he slammed his truck door. He swore when he turned the corner to Carlee’s friend’s house. He swore when he pulled up to the curb and put his truck in park.

  He shouldn’t have sat and watched Leia enjoy his coffee or watch her squirm around to get comfortable, or drowned in the emotion in her eyes when he suggested the Christmas tree.

  He’d been doing a pretty damn good job of containing this unhealthy, unwanted, unneeded attraction to a woman who was so wrong, so out of his league, and too damn beautiful, talented, and giving for the likes of him. He closed his heart after Denise. If his bed was cold, if sometimes at night he wondered if there wasn’t more to this thing called life—well, no one knew it but him.

  Then he went and kissed her. That hand trembling over his heart, those soft lips yielding, the naked vulnerability in her eyes….

  He swore again and gripped the steering wheel, more than aware that his jeans were too tight, that need was seeping into every pore and if anyone popped out at him and said “boo”, he’d crawl out of his skin.

  He never wanted so bad to lay down with a woman, just wrap himself around her so she had no need for that blanket and watch that Christmas movie, put his nose in her neck and breath deep of the warmth and vitality. He wanted to gaze at her for hours. He wanted her voice back. He wanted her strong. He would die to hear her sing, just for him. He wanted her under him in bed, those sexy fingers scratching him up and he wanted to tell the world she was his.

  Fear scraped over the fantasy, pushing and shoving at his volatile emotions, leaving him raw and shaking. He reached for his gloves and put them on.

  He should not have kissed Leia. The last few days she’d looked like a woman, not an icon. That left him struggling. He could not leave himself that vulnerable to anyone again. His world was right and under his control. He worked hard to keep it that way after his parents died, after Denise had left him with Carlee.

  Leia represented wildness and unfettered daring.

  He had a daughter.

  He had a town.

  He had a list of what he wanted in a woman and Leia didn’t qualify.

  Too bad his brain, his body, his heart was telling him something different—but he knew. He knew himself deep down. He had no illusions. She wouldn’t fit long term. And contemplating an affair just to get in bed with her would be a disaster because his heart would tie him up and he’d never get free.

  Dammit—she had to be a rock star. She couldn’t be the girl-next-door.

  She’d take you for a wild ride. You’d never be bored.

  But where would he be when she dropped him and left? Just like his parents, just like Denise.

  Devastated. Lonely. Broken.

  Maybe the third time wasn’t really a charm. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to pick up the emotional pieces and he’d destroy his peace of mind, destroy the little bit of comfort and contentment he’d managed to achieve.

  That made beautiful, sexy Leia just not worth the risk. That was a damn shame.

  He rubbed at his heart as he opened his truck door, and accepted the blast of cold, arctic air into his lungs. In measured steps up the walk to the front door, he noted Carlee glancing out the window at him as she got her coat on, and contemplated.

  How long before he had Leia on her feet and back to her life?

  How long could he hold out against the sweet lure of her?

  Or was he already on the path to destruction?

  CHAPTER TEN

  Leia smiled happily from the sofa.

  Zach, Carlee, Fiona, Beau, Wyatt and Ryder descended on her mid-day Saturday with an SUV full of Christmas decorations and a tree tied to the top.

  They’d rushed thru the door, hugging and teasing. Fiona made hot chocolate. Beau and Zach wrestled the tree into the house and bickered while setting it up and stringing the lights. Watching them combined with the pine aroma from the tree soothed in a way she didn’t try to define.

  A fire crackled in the fireplace thanks to Ryder. Christmas music played on satellite radio, Wyatt’s contribution. The ornaments were put on the coffee table and floor near the sofa so Leia didn’t have to lean to get to them. She carefully unwrapped them and handed them to Carlee, who hummed along to the radio as she put ornaments on the tree. Leia itched for her guitar and for her voice to be back so she could sing some festive Christmas songs to match the occasion. Alas, her singing voice was still absent.

  Fiona puttered in the kitchen, succulent smells of roasting chicken and chocolate cake lingering, enticing in the air. Her stomach growled and she almost laughed. This was the first time in weeks she felt hungry, anticipated a good meal and wanted to sing. This was the first time in weeks she’d dressed and felt up to conversation and socializing. Granted, she had her slippers on and was wearing a warm-up suit with no makeup and her hair in a pony tail. Progress felt good.

  The men were outside stringing lights, arguing about where to plug in and tossing random snowballs at each other like little brothers at play.

  Incongruous was Zach’s badge and pager on the counter near the phone. On call again. Did the man never rest?

  “My mom called this morning. She’s coming for Christmas.” Carlee plunked down next to her and fingered the ornaments, gauging the tree.

  She fumbled, not sure what to say. Carlee’s matter-of-fact statement was at odds with the tenseness in her young body. “What will you do while she’s here? Ski? Shop?”

  “Probably both. Last time,” she frowned, “she took me to the spa at the ski resort. That was fun.”

  The statement was made as if Carlee thought it was expected of her to show support for her Mom’s ideas and that flayed at Leia. She got the sense that
Carlee would rather have been on the slope.

  “You ski a lot, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, Uncle Beau takes me.” She brushed her hair out of her face and then picked up several glass ornaments and walked to the tree. “Did you know Uncle Beau used to ski competitively? He thinks I’m good enough to do that, too. Dad says we’ll talk about it. That usually means no.” She frowned again.

  “Does your mom like to ski?”

  “No.”

  The flat statement said it all. She shifted against her pillows. “Well, I think skiing competitively is a pretty big decision. It’ll take hours of practice every day and probably will cost a bit of money, so maybe your dad just wants to think about it for a bit. He is a pretty good judge of things. Have a little faith.” Leia toyed with an ornament, feeling left in the dark by this conversation.

  Once again the gap of what she knew about Zach, Carlee and his family reared an ugly head. She may be crazy about the man, but she knew next to nothing about his thoughts and feelings. Wasn’t that just a recipe for disaster?

  Carlee fingered a Santa on skis. “I love the slopes, racing down the hills. It’s like freedom. Takes me away from all my problems. Uncle Beau wants to take me to a ski resort in Denver for some classes for my Christmas present. It starts next Tuesday, but Dad said he had to think about that, too.” She came back over and plopped on the sofa. “Next weekend Mom will be here. Dad says that’ll make things awfully busy.”

  “Well maybe your Dad doesn’t want you too tired for your Mom’s visit.”

  “If she even comes,” Carlee muttered under her breath.

  Tough to listen to the kid being so cynical at her age, but probably with just cause. But she didn’t want to contribute to any negativity.

  “Well, I think it’s the Christmas season, and it’s the time to believe. Maybe if you promise to get your rest, do your chores, and be a good kid, Dad will do the Santa thing and say yes.”

  Carlee rolled her eyes. “I haven’t believed in Santa since second grade.”