Jingle Bell Cowgirl

by Lacy Williams

He didn't have to say the words for her to catch his terrible meaning.

  She watched the rise and fall of his chest, watched his throat work as he tried to gain control of his emotions. He still stared at the ceiling, and no tear ran down his cheek, though she could see his eyes glistening in the low light from the dash.

  She sat helpless. Wanted to reach for him, but who was she to offer him comfort? A nobody. Barely a friend.

  The coil wound tighter.

  After interminable minutes, he reached blindly for his coffee. She caught his cup on the edge of the console when it would have tipped over, placing it safety in the cupholder.

  He scrubbed both hands over his face. Cleared his throat. "Sorry. You didn't want to talk about serious stuff."

  She hadn't, but it was a part of him. And she was scared to realize she wanted to know all of him. She liked him. Impossibly.

  The realization was frightening, that coil tightened again, and she shrugged, now the one to look off in the distance. "It's okay."

  A lone ice skater took the empty ice, moving faster than the others had, executing a graceful twirl.

  She felt his gaze on her, felt his expectation, though she didn't know for what. For her to acknowledge his pain?

  When the silence had become awkward, he cleared his throat again. "If you want to go over the ranch's financials, I can clear some time this week. I know they can be difficult to understand—"

  Relieved that he'd changed the subject, she allowed her gaze to come back to him. He'd taken on the relaxed posture again, one arm along the back of the seat.

  "It's okay," she said. "One of my degrees is in accounting, so..."

  Surprise lit his eyes, pushed his eyebrows up slightly. "One of your degrees?"

  So he didn't know everything about her. "I have three." Her nervous energy—she blamed the coffee—pushed her to tap her fingers on her knee.

  "Let me guess. You also have degrees in... party planning"—he nodded to the improvised skate rink—"and sky diving?"

  She snorted. "Nope."

  "Family life?"

  "Is that even a degree?"

  "Marine biology? Art?"

  She shook her head.

  "I give up." He said it as though he didn't care, but the glittering intensity in his eyes belied his words. If Ben set his sights on something, he didn't give up.

  She had to look away as the coil tightened again.

  "Agriculture from UT, accounting from Colorado, and business management from Nevada."

  Now he was considering her, his gaze probing deeper than she wanted him to see.

  What had she been thinking, offering up something so personal?

  Another impulsive moment coming to bite her in the butt.

  "Sounds like you're ready for me to hand over the reins to the ranch anytime," he said in a slow drawl. "And like you've had a hard time settling down."

  Then, he added the verbal punch. "Haven't you ever wanted anything different?" He parroted her question from earlier. "Like to come home?"

  The coil sprang.

  "I have to go." She kicked open the truck door and dashed for her Chevelle.

  Even with miles behind her, between them, she felt wild and out-of-balance, out-of-control.

  Because the truth was, she had.

  7

  Two nights after the ice skating debacle, Lila found herself in another predicament.

  She kicked the tires of the rental trailer but only succeeded in hurting her frozen toes. Even in the dark and through the swirling snow, she could see the wheel was ensconced in six inches of icy, slushy mud.

  Because the truck was a rental, it didn't have any of the supplies a real cowgirl would've kept in her truck. Not even a cardboard box to flatten and shove under the tire.

  Her equine passenger stomped his displeasure in the confines of the trailer, letting her know he wasn't happy with this situation, stuck on the side of the road in a trailer listing at an angle against the small embankment.

  Well, she wasn't happy either. She was only five feet from the scene of her crime, and anyone who drove down this stretch of road could see them.

  Probably.

  Maybe.

  The blinding snow obscured everything, matting Lila's eyelashes with clumps of white.

  She got in the truck and slammed the door. Cranked the engine, which didn't really do much, because she'd discovered on her way out here that the heater didn't work properly.

  If she didn't know how dangerous it was, she'd think the blizzard was beautiful. Especially if she were warm at home, curled under a blanket with a cup of hot tea. Watching a Christmas movie.

  But no. She had to follow her stupid whims into another wild idea.

  She sat in the cab of the truck, mittened hands on the steering wheel, questioning herself. Everything had gone wrong since she'd arrived in Redbud Trails.

  Even if she wanted to unload the horse—which she refused to do given the falling temperatures and the fact that the animal had no shelter and no food—she'd cut the fence with wire cutters, so it was no longer capable of keeping the animal inside.

  She glared down on her cell phone lying on the passenger seat near her purse. If the battery hadn't died, she could have called for help.

  But not Ben.

  Ben, who could somehow see through her to her secret desires.

  Like coming home?

  His words from two nights ago were blistered into her brain, had been on repeat since she'd run away from him and his all-seeing eyes.

  With no heat, she was out of choices. If she stayed here, she was going to freeze. She was roughly a mile away from the Circle A, if she stayed to the road.

  Could she walk that far through the slicing wind and snow? Could the horse?

  There wasn't much chance of getting lost. If she somehow wandered off the road, she would bump into her daddy's black plank fence on one side or the barbed wire on the other.

  But she really didn't want to go to the ranch. She'd been planning to take the horse to Anna's place—but only long enough for her to devise a long-term plan for it.

  After all, her time was short. The nativity started tomorrow. Christmas was in four days. December twenty-sixth, she would leave Redbud Trails behind.

  She just needed to figure out what to do with the ranch in the meantime. She could give it to Ben. She could find a job anywhere. She didn't need it, and he seemed to love it. But it was Daddy's, her home. Could she really part with it? She needed to decide.

  But first, she had to figure out how to get out of this latest predicament.

  * * *

  Was that Lila?

  The headlights of Ben's truck cut through the curtain of falling snow and swept across the dark pickup angled across the road.

  He tapped on the brakes, careful of the deteriorating road conditions.

  It took a minute for him to realize through the haze of snow that the white behind the truck was a trailer. If he squinted, he thought he could see the trailer's back tires sunk into the muddy bank.

  When Anna had called him in a panic, unable to get ahold of Lila, somehow he'd known.

  Well, he'd guessed.

  This had been his first stop, but it wouldn't have been his last if he hadn't found her.

  The figure inside the cab of the other truck didn't move. Was she hurt? Had the cold gotten to her already? His heartbeat quickened and adrenaline spiked as he slammed out of his truck and into the blizzard. He left the headlights on to see where he was going and rushed to her door, whipping it open.

  She blinked up at him with owl-wide eyes. Snow swirled inside around him as he moved close, the wind buffeting the door to push against his backside.

  He reached for her, one ungloved hand curling around her jaw and the other going around her waist as he hauled her in. She was warm to the touch. Not hypothermic.

  Her knee bumped the steering wheel, and she uttered a muffled protest, which he ignored. He lowered his head and took her mouth. Relief slice
d through him like the wind at his back as he kissed her lips, her chin, her cheek.

  She looked more alert—and wary—as she pushed on his chest. She turned her head to dislodge his hand.

  "Your hand's cold," she mumbled.

  "It's snowing," he breathed into the crown of her hair, bowing his head to bury his nose in the sweet-smelling strands. "Why don't you have the heater on?"

  "Doesn't work," she mumbled into his neck.

  The relief that had swamped him moments ago dissipated and blew away like the flakes swirling outside the truck.

  "Why didn't you call for help?" He shook her shoulders, just a little, so she'd know how badly she'd scared him.

  He moved back slightly, and she ducked her head, her hair falling out of its braid and all around her face in a riot of curls. "My phone's dead."

  She wouldn't have called before she was in trouble, that much was clear.

  "We are going to have a serious talk." He pulled her out of her seat.

  "What...?"

  He pushed her toward his truck, squinting against the high beams he'd left on. "Get in and get warmed up while I see if I can pull this rig out of the ditch."

  He followed her, catching her elbow when she stumbled once. Maybe she wasn't hypothermic, but her reaction time was delayed. Normally she'd have blasted him for his high-handedness.

  He tucked her in the passenger seat and made sure the heater was on full-blast before moving to the back of the pickup where he always stowed emergency winter supplies.

  He pulled out two value-sized bags of kitty litter, hefted one on each shoulder, and moved back toward the trailer.

  He mixed one bag of the kitty litter with the mud in front of the tire as close as he could get it to the wheel, hoping it would build some traction into the transaction.

  He was rounding the trailer when he caught sight of the three strands of barbed wire that had been cut and peeled back, creating an opening that bore hoof tracks and boot tracks. Small, feminine boot tracks.

  Lila. What did you do?

  He huffed an exhale, knowing this meant a long night for himself, and moved to pour the second bag of kitty litter in front of the other stuck tires.

  He waved to Lila when he rounded to the front of the truck, just to let her know he was all right.

  Inside her truck, the air was hardly warmer than it had been in the blizzard. It bit into his skin, and he shuddered. How long had she sat out here?

  He spotted her cell phone on the passenger seat and some mistrustful part made him pick it up. Dead, just like she'd said.

  He held his breath as he eased on the gas. The wheels spun. Spun some more. And caught.

  He slowly pulled the trailer out of the ditch and onto the road, pulling up next to his farm truck, where he motioned Lila to roll down the window.

  "Think you can turn around without getting stuck?" he shouted over the wind.

  She smirked at him but nodded and quickly rolled the window back up.

  His last glimpse was her sliding over the console to the driver's seat as he eased on the gas again and pulled the trailer out of her way.

  He watched in the side mirror as she executed a beautiful three-point turn, keeping away from the ditch on both sides. When she was aimed the same direction he was, he led the way down the hill to the Circle A.

  He took care to back the trailer as close to the barn as he could get it.

  By the time he got out of the truck, Lila was at the rear of the trailer, already reaching for the door.

  He took her elbow and forcibly towed her across the yard to the big house.

  The fact that she didn't struggle told him how bad off she really was, even after being inside his toasty truck for several minutes.

  * * *

  Lila was still reeling as Ben pushed her inside the kitchen and pressed her shoulders until she sat at the nook table.

  He'd kissed her.

  The memory of those passionate kisses to her face and mouth played on a loop as she watched him unbutton his coat and then go to the cabinets and pull out a mug that he filled with water and put in the microwave. He rustled around in another cabinet until he pulled out a box with a brand she recognized.

  He was making her tea.

  He doused the tea bag in the steaming water and placed it on the table near her elbow, not realizing his kindness had sent a lump to her throat.

  She was used to taking care of herself. Had been doing so for fifteen years.

  She didn't know how to take the gift he offered her. Was a little scared of what it meant if she did.

  He seemed oblivious as he squatted in front of her, first taking off her boots and then chafing her sock feet with his work-roughened hands.

  Pinpoints of pain and awareness pricked the skin she hadn't even realized was cold as she looked down on the dark hair of his bent head.

  Her fingers itched to reach out and touch it. She wanted to bury her hands in his rich hair. And maybe pull him up for another kiss.

  Which was crazy.

  He set her feet on the floor between his thighs and reached for her hands, first removing her mittens and then giving them the same treatment he'd given her feet.

  Sharing his warmth with her.

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  She turned her head to the side, blinking furiously against the pricking, hot burning.

  She could feel his gaze on her as he continued to work her hands.

  He didn't say anything. Didn't tell her to suck it up or worse—try to comfort her.

  Finally, he stopped, just holding both of her hands in his, his thumbs pressing into the back of her hands lightly.

  "I'm going to go settle the horse."

  "I can go with you." She started moving, restless with energy pulsing, but he squeezed her hands.

  She looked at him, and their eyes connected.

  "I'd like it if you would stay here. Get warm. Drink your tea. Trust me to take care of the horse."

  He didn't make it a question, just stood, bussing a kiss on her cheek and squeezing her hands one more time before he buttoned up his coat and stuck his hands in his pockets for his gloves.

  Through the window she could see him descend the three stairs off the porch and make his way through the blizzard with a strong, sure stride.

  Still taking care of her.

  * * *

  Ben settled the horse in the barn. While the mare—who still hadn't borne her foal—had made the transition well and was fattening up nicely, he didn't like the look of this one.

  He made phone calls, first to the county sheriff to let him know what was going on, then to the horse's owner.

  He offered the man an exorbitant sum of money for an animal in the condition this one was, and they struck a deal on the condition the man not press charges for Lila's actions.

  Then he called the vet, but there was no way she could come out with the roads icy and blizzard still blowing. At best, she'd be there the next day.

  After over an hour of battling the elements and making sure the horse had calmed enough not to hurt itself in a new environment, all he wanted was his dinner and his bed.

  And maybe another one of those kisses.

  He'd watched Lila's emotions seesawing as he'd worked to get her warm in the kitchen. He was a little surprised that he hadn't heard that crappy rental start up as he'd worked.

  Maybe she'd smartened up and realized he was on her side.

  Or maybe she'd been spooked by the snow after her near-freezing experience and was smart enough not to try to drive in it again.

  She wasn't in the kitchen when he traipsed inside. This time, he took off his boots and left them on the rug at the back door. Took off his coat and gloves.

  He washed up at the sink, wincing as the lukewarm water stung his skin. He splashed his face, wiped off with a nearby kitchen towel, and then just stood at the sink, gripping the counter with his head bowed.

  He didn't know what Lila had been doing with that horse ton
ight.

  But he did know she wasn't long for Redbud Trails.

  He hadn't meant to kiss her. He'd been swamped with relief and another emotion he was ignoring for the moment. Caught up in the moment.

  She'd been his first kiss since Mia. And she mattered.

  His heart was going to get ripped to shreds when she left.

  But he still couldn't bring himself to regret it.

  The house was too quiet. Had she somehow snuck back out to the barn? Or over to his place?

  He did a sweep through the lower level before climbing the stairs. Norma was responsible for the big house, and the only rooms he ever ventured into were the kitchen and the office when he needed to do the books. In contrast to the complete lack of Christmas decor in his place, Norma had added tasteful touches like the pine swags threaded through the staircase's balusters and over the railing.

  He'd never even been up here.

  "Lila?" he called so he wouldn't scare her. His sock feet didn't make any noise on the wood floors.

  Only one door stood open, halfway down the hall. He found her inside, standing in the center of the room with her arms banded around her waist.

  A defensive posture if he ever saw one.

  This must've been her room. Lacy curtains hung from the window, and posters of horses covered nearly all of one wall. The twin-sized bed had a floral cover and still had stuffed animals propped against the pillows.

  It was a little girl's room. Or at least the bedroom of a girl who hadn't fully hit puberty yet.

  Why had she stayed away for so long?

  He wanted to demand answers, but when he stepped beside her, he saw the tear tracks on her cheeks, and something inside him broke for her.

  "Ah, honey." He grasped her elbows and pulled her in, his arms coming around her back.

  She'd run away from him in his truck when he'd mentioned home, but something had changed, because now she clung to him, her hands gripping his waist. She buried her face in his chest as she cried.

  He didn't know what she was mourning. Maybe the lost relationship with her dad. Maybe the childhood that she'd lost. Maybe something deeper.

  He just knew that he would die if he didn't hold on.