Merry Cowboy Christmas

by Carolyn Brown

  “Times change,” Katy said.

  Those last two words played through Fiona’s mind that evening when everyone had left. Times did change. Sometimes a person had to walk through fire to get to the nice cool lake water. Even though she wasn’t sure she would stay in Dry Creek for the rest of her life, it was home and it was good to be there.

  Her apartment in Houston had been so tiny that she’d felt cooped up most of the time, so she’d spent a lot of time out on the balcony. It was barely big enough for a white plastic lawn chair but at least she had fresh air, could hear the constant motion of traffic, and could watch the lights of the airplanes coming in and going out. It beat feeling like the walls of the apartment were closing in on her.

  That evening, she had a bout of the same claustrophobic feeling in her bedroom. She swung the drapes back and looked out at the stars in the sky, patches of white still dotting the landscape. There was no traffic noise, not a single plane in the sky; the only thing she could hear was the faint howling of a hungry coyote somewhere over on the Lucky Penny.

  She opened her closet door and removed a quilt from the top shelf and carried it down the stairs. Fresh air! Just a breath of it, no matter how cold, would help. Her therapist would tell her that it was too much, too fast and she needed to step back from the forest for a little while.

  A cold breeze rattled the bare mesquite tree limbs and shivers shook her from shoulders to toes, even though she’d remembered to put on a winter coat from her closet. Her breath created little puffs of smoky fog in front of her as she headed for the swing in the shadows of the porch.

  “You feelin’ a little cramped tonight, too?” Jud asked.

  How in the hell did he do that? She always knew when someone was approaching her or when they were looking at her even from across a room. “You scared me. What are you doing out here in the cold?”

  “Same thing you are, I expect. Getting some fresh air even if it would freeze the spikes off the devil’s little red tail. I’ll share the swing if you’ll share that quilt. It’s colder out here than I thought it would be,” Jud answered.

  Fiona sat down on the other end of the swing and spread the quilt out over both of their legs, pulling the corner of hers up to her chin. “I’ve lived simply for more than a year. This is all overwhelming. Most days I worked, went home to read a book from the library, and didn’t talk to anyone unless Lizzy or Allie called.”

  “Groundhog?” Jud said.

  She nodded, remembering the old movie, Groundhog Day, where every single day was the exact same as the one before it. “Pretty much. I still saw the same customers almost every day, talked to the same coworkers about important world-changing things like whether we should restock the small cups or the large ones before we closed up every evening. But when I went home, I was alone.”

  “Family rallies around when you need them.” Jud tugged his share of the quilt up to his neck. “What did you expect when you came home?”

  She shrugged.

  “Well, you are here now and it looks like you’re going to do all right, darlin’.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she protested.

  “Then how about honey pie, sugar, or sweet cheeks?” he teased.

  “None of the above. Do you call your sister darlin’?”

  “Sometimes, when I’m not mad at her.” He grinned. “And, Fiona, we might have joint kin folks, but we are not related at all.”

  “Thank God!” she spit out. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”

  He chuckled. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who isn’t related, who isn’t even your friend, isn’t it? Got something on your mind, Fi-o-na?” He dragged out her name, stretching each syllable.

  “Nothing except getting outside,” she said. “You?”

  He set his jaw firmly. “I feel like a fifth wheel and I’m a little jealous. We pooled our money for this big adventure, but then Blake and Toby wound up married and happy as piglets in a cornfield before I even got here. It’s not the same as it would have been for three bachelors sharing the same house and arguing over who has to fix fences or who has to cook supper that night.”

  “Find you a woman and get the same happiness they’ve got,” she suggested.

  “I just might do that,” he declared.

  “Well.” She inhaled. “I didn’t plan to come back here at all and I’ve had enough of the marriage scene, so I’m not looking for anyone to settle down with.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t want to live in Dry Creek, so I went to college, got a good job, and thought I had my fifty-year life plan all in order. Then it all fell apart, so I’ll start all over, only this time without letting a smooth-talking guy upset things,” she answered.

  He laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked tersely.

  “Man plans but God or fate or whatever you want to call it has a sense of humor. You’ve proven that, haven’t you?”

  “I saw a therapist a few times until I realized that I was running out of money and wasn’t going to get a decent job. She helped me admit that the divorce was partly my fault.”

  The hard north wind stung Fiona’s bare cheeks. “Let’s go inside and make some hot chocolate.”

  “I’m all for that but what makes you think the divorce was your fault?” he asked as he folded the quilt and handed it to her.

  “I was pretending to be something I wasn’t.” She opened the door and hurried inside like a moth driven to the warmth of a flame. Shedding her coat and leaving it on the bottom step, she looked over her shoulder to see Jud hanging his on a hook on the coat rack.

  “Did your ex, Kyle, ever come to Dry Creek with you before you were married?”

  “A couple of times. He was bored to tears.” She led the way into the kitchen, flipped on the light, and found the hot chocolate mix right where it had been when she was a little girl. She heated two cups of milk on the stove and removed the whipped cream from the refrigerator.

  “Then he knew, Fiona. He knew what you were, where you came from and how you’d been raised, so he knew your inner heart.”

  “But I didn’t want to be that person. I wanted to be that hotshot woman in high heels and power suits with a leather briefcase.”

  Jud poured a packet of hot chocolate mix in each of the mugs. “When did you stop wanting to be that woman? Did you talk to Kyle about it?”

  She carefully poured the milk into the mugs and stirred. “I did talk to him and told him that I wanted more time with him. I was ready to start a family and spend more nights at home than out at fancy restaurants or events with potential or existing clients.”

  He added a dollop of whipped cream to each and carried both mugs to the table. “And?”

  “It was not good. He told me he married a career woman with the top of the ladder always in sight. He didn’t want children, not until we were close to forty, and then he only wanted one son. Within six months he handed me divorce papers. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  “Does that mean you don’t trust men?”

  Her brows drew together. “Lizzy and I had this conversation. I trust men. I’m not sure I trust my judgment yet or that I ever will. I’m scared that if I find some guy who makes me feel all oozy inside and I marry him, I might realize I still want to be that woman with the briefcase and high heels. It happened in the reverse. Who’s to say that it wouldn’t turn around and happen again?”

  He sipped at the hot chocolate. “I got no answers for that one. But I can tell you this is some fine chocolate and it’s warming my insides. Do you feel better for sucking down some of that bitter cold wind?”

  She nodded emphatically. “I do. When I finish this, I might even be able to sleep. How about you?”

  “Hot chocolate is always good after being outside. Mama made it for me and Josie when we were kids after we’d go out and play in the snow. She had a rule. We could go out there and play as long as we wanted but when we came in, we had to stay inside. Ac
cording to her, running in and out, getting hot and then cold, over and over again would make us sick.”

  “Same rule here. Must be a mama thing,” Fiona said.

  Was that where she was in her life? She’d gone out to play in the cold and stayed out there seven years. Now she was back in the house drinking hot chocolate. Did that mean she’d have to stay in for the rest of her life?

  “You’re fighting demons, aren’t you?” he whispered softly.

  Lord have mercy! Jud’s whisper was even sexier than his slow Texas drawl. She’d been thinking about her own life and hadn’t given a thought to the insane sparks that passed between them when they were in each other’s presence. Then suddenly the brain gears switched and now she wanted to kiss Jud Dawson.

  Sure, he’d listened to her. And, yes, it had been over a year since she’d shared a bed with a man. And the way his eyes coveted what his two cousins had with their wives left no doubt that Jud wanted the same. And Fiona wasn’t even going to think about the way his whole face lit up when he held Audrey. Oh, yes, sir! This cowboy wanted a wife, children, and a home in Dry Creek. History would definitely, guaran-damn-teed not repeat itself with the third Logan sister.

  He pushed the chair back, rinsed his mug, and put it in the dishwasher. “We all fight the demons in our head from time to time. Just stand your ground and don’t let them win.”

  When he passed her chair, he tipped up her chin and brushed a soft kiss across her lips. “Good night, Fiona.”

  “You don’t kiss your sister like that, do you?” she sputtered.

  “You are not my sister and you’ve needed a kiss for a long time.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’m a Dawson, remember?”

  He disappeared into the darkness.

  She touched her lips to see if they were as hot as they felt and found them to be surprisingly cool. It was a kiss, not a damn proposal, and it would not happen again.

  Chapter Five

  The little white church in Dry Creek had two rows of pews with a center aisle. The side aisles were barely wide enough for a vacuum cleaner between pews and wall, so few people used them. The Logan pew on the left side of the church was full that day with Fiona sitting next to the wall and Jud Dawson at the far end, leaving the two married couples between him and Katy, who sat next to Fiona that morning.

  “How long has it been since you’ve been to church?” Katy whispered as the preacher took his place behind the pulpit.

  “I worked seven days a week, Mama,” she answered.

  “Then you haven’t been in church in a year?”

  Fiona grimaced. “That’s right.”

  “Another reason you should be home.”

  The preacher cleared his throat. Straying eyes went forward and those who had been slumping sat up tall and straight. God was not going to find a reason to fault a single person in the church that morning.

  “Good morning. I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving in spite of that bad weather.” His deep voice hardly needed the microphone to reach the back pews. “And now it’s time to think of Christmas. Since Christmas is on Sunday this week, we will have our holiday program the Wednesday night before, and our usual morning services that Sunday will be postponed until evening. That way all you folks can have the morning with your family.”

  He looked down at his Bible and Fiona got ready for the sermon. She would do her best to pay attention since she hadn’t set foot inside a church in a year.

  “Before I begin, the ladies have said that after our Wednesday night Christmas service we will have a leftover potluck dinner in the fellowship hall. So be thinking along those lines and bring your leftovers to the potluck that evening for some time of fellowship. Please open your Bibles to Matthew 22, where Jesus said for us to love our neighbors as ourselves. Would you hurt yourself? Would you say mean words to yourself? Would you deny yourself food or shelter?”

  Fiona drifted away from the preacher’s booming voice. She felt someone staring at her from the pew behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Truman O’Dell and his wife, Dora June, both giving her the evil eye. Dora June, God bless all three of her chins, had decided to step in and give her sisters advice since Granny was in a care facility and had damn sure rubbed them the wrong way.

  But what in the hell had Fiona done to bring the wrath of the O’Dells down upon her? She’d only been in town three days. Surely a year-old divorce wouldn’t be enough to bring out the cross and nails to crucify her. Those two old codgers should be taking in the sermon and thinking of being nice to their neighbors.

  “In this upcoming season of love, we should remember to treat our neighbor right, even if they treat us wrong. When our Lord and Savior was on the cross, he asked his Heavenly Father to forgive the people who done that horrible deed to him,” the preacher went on.

  Finally, the preacher asked Truman O’Dell to deliver the benediction. The roof came nigh to rising up a good three inches when everyone in the church sighed. Not because the sermon went five minutes over twelve o’clock but because Truman always thanked the almighty for everything from the snow that would bring extra nutrients to the soil, to his goats, to the church building, and the offering that morning. The roast beef in most folks’ ovens would be dried up into jerky by the time they got home to Sunday dinner.

  Fiona imagined the church roof lowering back into place when Truman raised his head and said, “Amen.” The quietness ended and folks began to talk in low tones as they moved toward the door where they’d shake hands with the preacher. Then they’d brave the bitter north wind to their vehicles and drive like bats set loose from the bowels of hell to get home and save what was left of the dinner.

  Somehow Fiona got separated from the rest of the family when Lucy Hudson grabbed her arm and gave her a hug. “Lord, honey, I hate it when Truman gives the final prayer, but I suppose Preacher Lyle was trying to get him to see that he’s been a horse’s ass the past year.”

  Fiona raised an eyebrow.

  “You look like your granny Irene when you do that,” Lucy giggled. “Don’t tell me your sisters haven’t told you about his vendetta against the Lucky Penny. He’s strutted around like a peacock talkin’ crap about how he’d buy that ranch yet from them when they got tired of hard work and moved away.” Her eyes shot toward the ceiling. “Forgive me, Lord, but it’s not judgin’; it’s the Gospel truth. Anyway, he’s been talkin’ bad about the Dawsons ever since they got here.”

  “Why?” Fiona asked.

  “No one wanted the Lucky Penny, what with its reputation for being so unlucky for anyone who buys it. But Truman wanted it real bad, only he’s tighter with his money than a bull’s butt in fly season and he was trying to hold out for a better price when the Dawsons showed up and bought it,” Lucy whispered.

  “That’s no reason to be ugly to Blake and Toby and now Jud.”

  Lucy nodded emphatically, the gray bun on top of her head bobbing as if it would tumble off and go flying across the pews. “I know and everyone else in town knows but Truman and about three women. I won’t call any names but one of the women is Truman’s wife and the other two are her friends. Dora June don’t give a damn”—another eye roll to the ceiling and the sign of the cross over her heart—“about the ranch but she’s upset because Allie and Lizzy wouldn’t listen to them about them Dawson boys. What with y’all’s granny in that place with her problems, those three old biddies thought they could step right up and give Lizzy advice.”

  Fiona stifled a giggle.

  Lucy patted her on the back. “As if anyone could give Lizzy advice, right? After that preacher wannabe broke her heart, she grew a bigger pair than most men in this place.”

  The giggle escaped. “Survival causes that.”

  “Yes, it does. Anyhow, I’m glad you are home and real happy that you are going to help your mama out in the store. I been worried about her for a while now with all she’s got on her plate. I heard you are taking care of Lizzy’s books. Wou
ld you be interested in taking on some more work in that line? Me and Herman is getting too damn old to keep up with all these newfangled tax laws,” Lucy said.

  “We could talk about it,” Fiona replied.

  Lucy hugged Fiona again. “I’ll come on by and talk to you first of the week, then.”

  Allie worked her way through the crowd until he was right beside Fiona. She cupped her hand over Fiona’s ear and whispered, “We’re supposed to love Truman? God’s asking a lot this morning, isn’t He? Come with me to the nursery and we’ll get Audrey. It’s the first time I’ve left her, but last week she made such a fuss that Dora June and Truman were both giving me dirty looks all during services.”

  “Well, if I’ve got to love Truman and Dora June after the way they’ve acted, then I guess y’all had best pack my casket full of sunblock because I’m bound for hell,” Fiona said softly.

  Allie laughed so loud that several people turned around to stare at her. Fiona didn’t care if it was right there in the sanctuary. The scripture said that even David from the Bible was a noisy fellow. He played the musical instruments and danced around rejoicing when he bested his enemies and the good book said that he was the apple of God’s eye. So if Allie wanted to laugh in the church house, then by damn she could.

  Allie poked her on the arm. “You’ve been standing next to Lucy too long. That expression on your face looks like her when she’s ready to tear into someone.”

  Fiona’s mossy green eyes went from angry to twinkling in a split second. “I’m hungry and you know what that means.”

  “Bitchy,” Allie said.

  Nadine grabbed Fiona by the arm. “Hey, girl, I wanted to invite you to the café for Sunday dinner to welcome you back to Dry Creek.”

  Allie waved over her shoulder and disappeared into the crowd.

  “I should eat with the family. Rain check?” Fiona asked.

  “Anytime. Got to get going. I only leave the café for the hour that church services are going on. Mary Jo is working until I get back. She, Sharlene, and I take turns on Sunday so that only one of us three misses church,” Nadine said.