Cowboys Don't Stand Under the Mistletoe (Sweet Water Ranch Western Cowboy Romance Book 10)

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Cowboys Don't Stand Under the Mistletoe (Sweet Water Ranch Western Cowboy Romance Book 10) Page 8

by Jessie Gussman


  “Looks like you’re prepared.” Angela lifted her brows at Rosaleen before bending to scoop the girls up and give them hugs.

  She chatted with them for a minute before they went back to the table to finish up their crackers.

  “Thank you so much, and I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better, not only with feeding them, but also with picking them up in time.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. Someone needed to eat those crackers before they went stale.”

  “Well, thanks for being sweet about it.” Angela noted that each of the girls were working on their last cracker. “Is your sister coming home for the holidays?” She grabbed the girls’ winter things from the rack behind the table.

  “No. I don’t think so. But I think Cord has her talked into marrying him on Valentine’s Day.” Rosaleen’s gaze seemed to get stuck on the pet section, and she didn’t look Angela square in the eyes.

  “So she’s not coming home, but she’s going to get married?” Angela asked incredulously. She didn’t want to gossip, but that seemed crazy. She didn’t know Clay’s brother, Cord, very well. He had a spread to the south of town and worked it himself, which kept him busy.

  “Yeah. She and Cord have been on again, off again, for a few years. Since we graduated from college, really.” She shrugged. “She’s happy in Chicago, but like I said, I think she’s finally agreed to marry Cord and move back home. She’s not coming home for the holidays so she can start wrapping up her loose ends. That’s what she said, anyway.”

  Angela stopped arranging the gloves and hats in her hands and narrowed her eyes at Rosaleen. She seemed a little too...cheerful. Forced cheerfulness.

  “Are you the older twin?” Angela asked, just making conversation while trying to pin down the source of Rosaleen’s agitation.

  “Nope. Younger by five minutes.”

  “I see.” She tapped her chin. “I don’t think I’ve ever met Rosalind.”

  “Probably not. Although she looks just like me. Our parents can’t even tell us apart if we’re not facing them full-on.” She laughed a little, but there was a sadness there.

  “You’re not dating anyone?” Angela asked, thinking that maybe she was prying just a little too hard. But she said it with her sweet, pastor’s-daughter smile, and Rosaleen didn’t seem to notice.

  “Nope. Just me and my books. Couldn’t be happier in the library.”

  The girls were almost finished, and Angela almost decided this was a mystery for another time, but her eye happened to snag on the circulation desk. There was a book spread open and facedown on the desk. She couldn’t quite make out the title, and she shifted just a bit.

  “Well, I’ll take these cherubs out of your hair and let you get back to reading.” She nodded at the book on the desk.

  “Oh, no rush.” Rosaleen waved her hand around. “I’ve read that book about seventeen times. It’s getting a little boring.”

  Angela nodded, trying to move inconspicuously. “So that must have been you sitting in church with Cord a couple of Sundays ago? I thought maybe your sister was in town.”

  “No. She’s not been home since the Fourth of July. That was me. Cord and I have been best friends since forever.”

  “I see.” Close enough to make out the title, she read it in a low voice, “Cowboys Don’t Marry the Wrong Sister.” She tilted her head at Rosaleen. “I’ve never heard of that one.”

  “Yeah, the author isn’t very good.” Rosaleen’s cheeks had turned pink, and she seemed to be looking at Angela’s knees.

  “But you’ve read it seventeen times?”

  “Maybe not quite that many. I’d have written it a little differently if I were her.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then maybe you should write your own story.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  Chapter 9

  The girls were fussy. Mack and Angela discussed waiting until another day, but since they didn’t know when, or if, Robyn was coming back, they decided to go ahead and do it.

  As Mack had suspected, the girls fell asleep in his truck on the way to the farm. He almost prompted Angela to talk to him about what had been bothering her earlier, but he didn’t want the end of their ride to signal the end of their conversation and give her an out if she tried to hold something back.

  So when she started a conversation about the weather for the next week, he played along.

  He highly suspected her actions had something to do with her ex, or maybe even her parents, and he was impatient to at least get her to promise that if she were being threatened, she’d tell him.

  There was a small part of him that wondered if she had seen him with Lark and not realized Lark almost fell and he was making sure she was okay. But Lark was still a teen, even if she had graduated from high school. Plus she was like a little sister to him.

  Lark had tried to tell him that Angela wouldn’t realize all that, but Mack pretty much just ignored her, no matter how passionately she explained it. After all, it was basically a requirement of big brothers to completely ignore their little sisters. Even little sisters that weren’t quite little sisters.

  Still, something just felt off as he parked his truck in front of the barn where the milking parlor was located.

  “There aren’t a whole lot of dairy herds in North Dakota. Very few small farms anymore.” He looked over at Angela. “I’m looking forward to this. It’s been a long time since I was in a dairy barn.”

  Her expression said she wasn’t as sure. It reminded him of their differences. But she’d still wanted to kiss him.

  He could hardly get that text out of his head. He hadn’t had any idea of what he should say back to her.

  Yes, please?

  Hardly.

  It had been tempting to go right back up the steps and knock on her door. But that was something old Mack would have done. He’d have probably ended up doing a whole bunch more things that old Mack would have done.

  He didn’t want to be old Mack anymore.

  So he’d read the text way more times than he wanted to admit to and didn’t answer it, because the only things he could think of to say were suggestive things that were not appropriate to a Sunday School teacher and a girl that was not his.

  Holly and Ashleigh stirred as they opened the back doors to get them out. He was actually getting pretty good at manipulating the car seat buckles, but so was Angela, and she had Ashleigh out before he freed Holly.

  “Beat ya,” she said.

  “It’s a race?” he asked, even though he might have said the same thing if he’d won.

  “Only when I win.”

  She slammed the door before he could answer.

  The barn was a pole building. They went to the door, decorated with a pretty Christmas wreath, on the narrow end. Lark emerged from inside, wearing a long-sleeved flannel, a thick vest, and knee-high rubber boots.

  “Come on in, guys.” She held the door while they carried the girls into what looked like an office. “You all can stop here, and I’ll get you some booties to put on.” Lark grinned at Angela. “I can make Mack suit up completely if you want me to.”

  Angela lifted a brow at him. “Hmm. Maybe if he holds both girls, we’ll let him out of it. This time.”

  “This time of year, the bio suits aren’t bad. Keep you warm.” He could play along. It warmed his heart to see Angela smiling.

  It didn’t take long to put the plastic boots on over their shoes, and Lark chatted easily with the girls about germs and how the boots protected the cows from any sickness they might bring in with them.

  “Go straight through,” Lark said from behind him.

  He picked up Holly and walked ahead, holding the door for Angela. As soon as he opened it, the sharp, loud droning of the milk pump grew loud enough for Ashleigh to whimper and put her hands over her ears.

  “It gets better when we get into the parlor. Although the milk tank is right there.” Lark waved at the tank that was taller than he was
and longer than his pickup. If they weren’t doing this for the girls, he’d have a lot of technical questions about the agitator, cleaning, and capacity.

  But this was a kid-level tour, and he kept his mouth closed.

  They took the girls over, and he lifted Ashleigh up so she could look in while Lark showed Angela and Holly where the milk came in from the parlor.

  The tank was only about half full of pure white milk, but it was enough to interest Ashleigh, and she reached a hand in, trying to touch it. It was too far down for that, so he let her. The milk would be pasteurized at the plant, but if it were high enough to reach, he wouldn’t have allowed it.

  He handed Ashleigh off to Angela, who looked interested despite herself.

  “Cool, huh?” he said.

  The pump was too loud and shrill to have a conversation without screaming at each other, and she just nodded her head.

  He grinned to himself as Holly oohed over the tank and the milk. This wasn’t his area, exactly. Traditionally, dairy farmers, crop farmers, and beef farmers were at odds with each other. But agriculture was agriculture, and it meant feeding a country, whether it was beef or milk or crops, and he always felt proud to be a part of it. He liked that Angela seemed to be enjoying herself, even if her feelings weren’t quite as strong as his.

  After Holly was done, and he replaced the lid on the big, stainless steel tank, Lark led them out another door and down the steps into the parlor.

  He could tell right away it was a double six, obviously, since there were six cows on either side. An older one, from the looks of things. He’d been in a couple out east that were much bigger and several that had been run completely by computers and robots.

  Jeb was on the cement floor, wearing coveralls and big rubber boots.

  Once the door closed behind them, the noise faded away.

  “Watch your step. The cement gets slick, especially with those plastic booties,” Lark called from the bottom.

  “Give me Ashleigh,” he commanded, setting Holly down. “Please,” he added, figuring it didn’t hurt to be polite, even though he wanted to be sure she didn’t slip on the steep cement steps.

  “I’ve got her,” Angela said.

  He gritted his teeth. “Angela.”

  “You don’t scare me when you talk in that tone of voice.”

  “I can use a different tone.”

  “I’m sorry. But fear tactics don’t work with me.”

  “I can use different tactics.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I said please.”

  “That’s true. You did.” She handed Ashleigh over.

  “So you just wanted to argue?”

  “No. I just needed a minute to think about it.”

  “Then why don’t you just say, ‘I need a minute to think about it, Mack.’”

  “Because I’m a woman, not a man.”

  “Hmm. You think I didn’t notice?”

  “That I’m a woman? I don’t know. Did you?”

  “Are you guys going to quit arguing and get down here today?” Lark called.

  He gave Angela a grin and offered her his hand. She took it with a lifted brow. He read that look pretty easily. It said she didn’t really need help but was allowing him to help her so that he could feel manly.

  He laughed to himself. It was probably true.

  ANGELA WALKED AWAY from Mack, still grinning. She loved teasing him, and he always got her humor. It was nice to not always be trying to hide the fact that she wanted to be funny and not serious and decorous.

  After they went down the stairs, they were eye level with the cows’ udders. Which meant the cows’ feet were at throat-slashing level.

  Angela looked at the hooves surrounding them with uncertainty.

  “There’s a bar here, to keep them from kicking you. Also, Jeb’s cows are very calm. I can’t say I’ve never been kicked, but it doesn’t happen often. Oh,” Lark said as an afterthought. “Maybe you’ve not met Jeb?”

  She waved at the man who’d kept working, doing something with a squirt bottle and a type of paper towel.

  “No. I don’t think I have,” Angela said. It was possible he came to church and she’d never seen him. He could come in late and leave early, and she’d never notice from her seat in the front.

  “Well, this is Jeb. And Jeb, this is Angela.” Lark waved between them.

  Jeb looked up, nodded at them, and went right back to working.

  Angela was glad Mack had told her that Jeb was quiet. She might have thought he didn’t want them there, except his expression seemed friendly and she noticed Lark looked at him like he invented oxygen.

  Interesting.

  He seemed to ignore her.

  Except when she talked about washing the cows’ udders, he was there with the spray and rag.

  When she talked about putting the milker on, he waited until she was ready and did each step as she explained it.

  He was there as the milkers came off automatically, and he dipped the cows as she talked about the importance of sanitization and bacteria.

  The girls stayed interested longer than Angela would have expected. Angela had to admit she’d never seen anything quite like it, despite growing up in a small town in rural Colorado. She could have stayed longer, but after an hour, the girls were ready to leave.

  They thanked Jeb and Lark, then made their way carefully up the steps. After removing their booties and throwing them in the trash, they headed out to the pickup.

  “It’s warmer in there than what you’d think,” Angela said as the cold North Dakota wind and darkness hit them.

  “It got dark while we were in there too.”

  “I’m hunwee,” Ashleigh said.

  “I’m hunwee, too,” Mack said.

  Angela looked at him over Holly’s booster seat. “I have vegetable soup in the crockpot, and it should be ready when we get home.”

  “When did you have time to do that?”

  “While you were helping Abner put the banner up.”

  “It didn’t take us that long.”

  “Just enough time to throw some things in the slow cooker.”

  “Well, that’s great. I really am hungry. We’re not forgetting about supper. Right, girls?”

  Their eyes met over the car seats. She felt like there was something in Mack’s gaze, but after the way she’d misjudged yesterday, she told herself it wasn’t so.

  She at least had to apologize for the last ridiculous thing she’d done before she did another ridiculous thing.

  But when they pulled up to their boardinghouse, there were lights on in almost every window and an expensive-looking sedan parked along the street.

  Angela’s heart jumped up into her throat, and her stomach tried to run away.

  “Looks like Mr. Swanson has company,” Mack said cheerfully. He had no idea.

  “No.” Angela got that word out.

  Her tone registered on Mack as he was pulling out the latch on his door. He turned his head to her.

  “Whoever’s in that car is what had you upset today?”

  She shook her head. “No. That seems minor now compared to this.”

  “And what is ‘this?’” He leveled a gaze at her that was as serious as she’d ever seen.

  “My parents.”

  She looked away from Mack, out her window at the house she had to enter and the confrontation that would surely be waiting. Her heart sank even further into her toes as she realized the dark shadow in the front door was her father.

  He was going to flip.

  She wasn’t afraid of him, and she could face it all, but she wasn’t looking forward to it. She’d rather set up a tent on the south side of hell than walk into that kitchen.

  So, she put a smile on her face and turned to Mack. “This is going to be fun, right?”

  “I’ll stand beside you.”

  “That will actually make it worse.”

  “Will he hurt you?”

  It gave her a good feeling in he
r bones to know his first concern was for her.

  “No. He’s my father.”

  “Sometimes that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “If things will be better without me, I’ll take the girls to the diner for supper.”

  She ran through scenarios in her head, hating to ask him to leave but finally deciding that was the best case. “I think that would be best.”

  “Then go ahead. I’ll try to be gone until bedtime.”

  She moved, and he put his hand on her arm. She flinched.

  “Sorry. I just know Dad’s gonna say something.”

  His lips pulled back in a flat line, but he dropped his hand. “Text me if you need anything. Please.”

  Thankfully it was dark and he couldn’t see her cheeks heat. She couldn’t pull up her texting app without seeing the embarrassing text she’d sent him last night. The one he’d ignored. The one she hadn’t apologized for. She needed to. But not right now.

  “I will,” she said, then yanked on her door latch and dropped out of his truck, knowing exactly how a prisoner felt as they walked from freedom into the interrogation room.

  Chapter 10

  Mack did not want to drive away. With everything he had, he wanted to walk beside Angela as she disappeared into the house. Maybe, if he didn’t have his nieces with him, he would have done it, no matter what she said.

  But they were hungry and tired and had enough turmoil in their lives. So he drove his truck several blocks down to the diner and got the girls out.

  Recognizing Mav’s truck parked in front of it, he almost thought it might be better to make the two-hour drive to Rockerton and hit a drive-thru there.

  Almost. It would be late when they got back, and the girls were tired.

  The bell tinkled over his head as he walked in.

  Mav saw him immediately and motioned him over to the booth he was sharing with his brother, Cord. They only had ice water in front of them.

  Mack supposed it would be too much like luck for them to be leaving.

  He loved his friends. Really. But he had things on his mind and didn’t need Mav’s picking. Cord could stay.

  “Dude. Come on over. Cord was just buying my supper.”

 

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