A Cowboy Christmas

by Marin Thomas

  “No. We have a much better relationship now. I think it was easy to forgive her because my father had always been there for me. I wasn’t totally neglected.” Distracted by Fletcher’s touch, she pulled her fingers free of his grip. “Be with Danny as much as possible. He’ll appreciate the sacrifices you made for him when he’s old enough to understand.”

  Fletcher shoved a hand through his thick, russet hair. Darla recalled running her fingers over the strands when they’d had sex the first time—a stereotypical small-town-up-in-the-hay loft-experience. They’d both ended up with pieces of hay stuck in unmentionable places.

  His gaze settled on her face. “Your crummy childhood didn’t prevent you from becoming a successful lawyer.”

  If only she was as successful in her personal life. Her three serious relationships since law school had followed a troubling pattern. Each time her feelings grew serious for her boyfriend and he moved in with her, suddenly she found herself watching the clock and timing his arrival home from work. When he or she traveled on business she texted him or called him on his cell to find out where he was, who he was with and what he was doing. In the end she’d broken off the engagement because she hadn’t been able to trust him not to cheat on her.

  Fletcher’s heavy-lidded gaze chipped away at Darla’s determination to put this man out of her mind and heart for good.

  “We’ve been dancing around the subject since you arrived,” he said.

  Darla knew exactly what subject he referred to—Amy Frazer.

  Resting his arms across the top of the fence, he said, “This is tougher than I thought it would be.”

  All of a sudden, Darla wasn’t sure discussing the past was the answer to moving on. Why open up old wounds? Maybe it was best to admit mistakes were made on both sides and that it was time to forgive and forget.

  Can you forgive?

  She had no choice if she wanted to put the past behind her. “We’ve both done things we regret.” If she’d given him a chance to explain his actions in high school, who knows, they might have made amends and continued dating through college and beyond. But that’s not what happened and there was no going back for either of them. She wasn’t the same Darla anymore. She had a career and had made a life for herself far away from Junket. “I’m leaving in a couple of days and—”

  “You owe me a chance to explain, Darla.”

  She didn’t owe him anything. “What if I’m not ready to hear your explanation?”

  “Then stay until you are.” He inched closer—within touching distance, but kept his hands to himself. The fact that Darla wished he’d pull her into his arms proved how chaotic her feelings for him were.

  “Come with Danny and me tomorrow to pick out a Christmas tree.”

  She doubted Danny would appreciate her tagging along on their tree-scouting trip, but there was a vulnerability in Danny that reached inside Darla and tugged on her heartstrings. And spending more time with Fletcher might prove her feelings for him were nothing more than nostalgic memories. “All right. Count me in tomorrow.”

  “I LIKE THIS ONE!” Danny raced across the tree lot and pointed to a giant blue spruce. “No, this one’s better!” He bolted two rows over and tugged on the branch of another tree.

  The child zigzagged through the trees until Darla’s eyes threatened to cross. She noticed the muscle along Fletcher’s jaw bunch. Dad was losing his patience.

  “Why don’t you ask about the prices of the trees while I help Danny look around?”

  Relief flashed across Fletcher’s face. “Are you sure?”

  She suspected he hesitated to leave her alone with Danny because the boy had been rude to her a short time ago when they’d picked her up at the motel. The pout on Danny’s face had been a dead giveaway that he resented her presence.

  “We’ll be fine.” As soon as Fletcher walked off she spotted a flash of blue—Danny’s jacket. She headed in that direction. “Look at this one.” She stopped a few feet away. Danny peeked at her through the tree branches. “I’m wondering if it’s too tall for your living room.”

  Danny gave up his hiding place and joined her. He shifted from one foot to the other—his mind studying the tree, his body urging him to run. “This is the first tree you pointed to when we arrived.”

  He crinkled his nose at her.

  “Then you ran to this one.” She walked a few feet away and motioned to a smaller tree. “It’s short and round. Another good choice.”

  “It is?”

  “Sure. There’s room for lots of ornaments.”

  “We don’t got lots of ornaments.”

  “I could show you and your dad how to make Christmas ornaments out of dough.”

  Danny scowled. “We don’t need your help.”

  She ignored his rudeness and pointed to a medium-sized tree.

  “I didn’t pick that one,” Danny said.

  “Hmm. I could have sworn you ran past this tree. It’s perfect.”

  He scuffed his shoe against the ground. “Maybe I did.”

  “It’s tall, but not too tall. Round, but not too round. What do you think? You’re the expert.”

  Danny pretended to study the tree with a critical eye. “I guess it’s okay. Do you think Dad will like it?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “Hey, you two. Made a decision?”

  Darla motioned to the evergreen behind them. “Danny’s got an eye for trees. He picked the best one on the lot.” The boy’s face lit up at her compliment.

  Fletcher circled the tree, studying all sides. “Good job, Danny.” His cell phone rang, but he ignored it. “I’ll go pay for it.”

  “Your grandfather will love this tree,” Darla said when she and Danny were alone.

  “I guess.”

  “Something the matter?”

  “My mom hated our tree last year.”

  “Not everyone gets in the holiday spirit, Danny.” Darla’s mother had never made a big deal out of Christmas. Most holidays her mom hid in the bedroom and refused to come out. “Let’s wait for your dad at the truck.” Danny kept himself amused playing with a bungee cord until Fletcher arrived with the tree. Once the evergreen had been tied down, they left the lot.

  “Since Danny picked out such a nice tree we should celebrate and eat out for lunch,” Darla said.

  “Yeah!” Danny bounced on the backseat.

  “Where do you want—”

  “Crusty’s!” Danny interrupted Darla.

  Fletcher grinned. “Pizza’s his favorite.”

  Crusty’s was crowded, but Darla didn’t run into anyone from her past. A waitress seated them in a booth and took their order. As soon as she walked off, Fletcher emptied his pockets of change and Danny scooped up the coins, then sprinted to the arcade. Fletcher expelled a deep breath and flashed a sexy half grin.

  His smile reminded her that for a short while today she’d forgotten the past and had lived in the moment with Fletcher and Danny. Shaken by the realization, she shored up her defenses and reminded herself that the goal of spending time with Fletcher wasn’t about second chances, but about moving on. Sooner or later the cowboy would say or do something that proved they weren’t meant for a happy-ever-after.

  “Thanks for coming with us today.” He grasped her hand. “I’m sorry Danny treated you rudely earlier this morning.”

  Darla didn’t have an opportunity to tell him it was no big deal, because Danny reappeared at their booth. She pulled her hand free of Fletcher’s grip. No sense upsetting the child needlessly.

  “I suck at Night Raider,” the boy said, sliding onto the seat next to his father.

  “We don’t use that kind of language, son.”

  “Grandpa says God damn and he doesn’t get in trouble.”

  Darla sipped her soda to keep from laughing.

  “That’s enough, Danny.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered, then slurped his drink.

  “What are your plans tomorrow after the baptism?” Fletcher aske
d.

  “Sissy’s having a cookout.”

  “How long do you have to stay?”

  She’d been hoping to make an appearance and then leave after an hour. “I should be able to get away early in the afternoon. Why?”

  “Spend the rest of the day with us,” Fletcher said.

  Darla’s gaze cut to Danny, but the boy was busy scribbling on the paper table-covering with crayons the waitress had supplied. “I’m not sure—”

  “I am.” Fletcher grinned.

  She doubted Danny wanted to see her again. Would the boy’s attitude change toward her if she showed him a little extra attention? “We could make ornaments for the tree.”

  The crayon in Danny’s hand froze. “I don’t want to make ornaments,” he said.

  “Making ornaments could be a lot of fun.” Fletcher’s comment didn’t erase the boy’s scowl.

  “Ms. Baker and I will find something else to do if you don’t want to make decorations,” Fletcher said.

  “I guess it’s okay,” Danny muttered.

  Just as Darla suspected—Danny didn’t want her to be alone with his father. Maybe she should respect Danny’s wishes, because what if spending more time with Fletcher backfired and, instead of getting over him, she fell more under his spell?

  Chapter Four

  “Mornin’,” greeted Darla when she stepped out of her motel room Sunday and found Fletcher leaning against the hood of his truck.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Thought I’d give you a ride to church.” His eyes roamed over her cream ruffled blouse and navy skirt.

  She took in Fletcher’s dress slacks, brown sport coat and his Sunday-go-to-meeting boots. “You’re going to church, too?”

  “Every Sunday, darlin’.” His green eyes twinkled.

  Sure. “Where’s Danny?” She shielded her eyes against the early morning sun but couldn’t see if the boy sat inside the vehicle.

  “Dad’s taking him to Sunday school.” He held open the passenger-side door for her.

  She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to ride with him to the church. She could catch a lift to the baptism party with one of Sissy’s relatives. As soon as she clicked her seat belt she wondered if she was crazy being seen with her old flame in public. Tongues would wag.

  Fletcher drove toward Junket. “Nervous?”

  The cowboy always did know when her insides were tied in knots. “No.” She waved a hand in the air and the motion stirred the scent of a familiar cologne. “You’re wearing the same cologne I bought you in high school.”

  “I like the smell.”

  That’s it? He wore the scent for years because he liked the smell?

  “And it reminds me of you.”

  A surge of pleasure rushed through Darla, but she caught herself before she returned Fletcher’s smile. A long time ago the naïve Darla would have fallen for his flattery, but the more worldly Darla didn’t trust words. Actions counted more.

  Conversation stalled for a few minutes while they listened to talk radio on the way into town. Darla shifted on the seat for the umpteenth time, worried about running into people she hadn’t seen in years.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, why?”

  “The way you’re squirming I figured I’d accidentally flipped the bun warmer switch and your fanny was roasting.”

  “Funny.” Darla rolled her eyes. She’d missed Fletcher’s teasing. “I’m concerned I won’t remember names.” Half truth. Mostly she feared people asking personal questions about her life. Once they learned she was single at the age of thirty they’d jump to the conclusion that she’d pined for Fletcher all these years.

  “I’ll help you with the names,” Fletcher said. “A few new families in town attend church, but you’ll recognize everyone else.”

  The parking lot was crowded—probably due to the Keller baptism. The tension in Darla inched upward. Just get through today and then you’ll be on your way back to Dallas. Back to your condo. Back to your job. Your coworkers.

  Your lonely life.

  She recognized three of the four couples entering the building ahead of her and Fletcher. Darla took comfort in the warm press of Fletcher’s hand against the small of her back as they ascended the church steps. Once inside the sanctuary she pulled away, not wishing to give the parishioners the idea they were a couple again.

  Sissy caught her attention and motioned to a pew up front. “I need to sit near the Kellers,” Darla said.

  “Lead the way.” She slid into the third pew, then swallowed a groan when she discovered Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy a few feet away. What rotten luck she picked seats next to her mother’s childhood friend.

  Gladys smiled. “How wonderful to see you, Darla.”

  “You’re looking well, Mrs. Abernathy.”

  The church organist introduced the first hymn and the congregation stood to sing. Fletcher’s father joined them in the pew and after the song ended the minister recited a prayer and the congregation sat. Halfway through the service Sunday school classes were released and the school-aged children flooded the sanctuary, making lots of noise as they searched for their families. Instead of sitting at the end of the pew next to his grandfather, Danny squished between Fletcher and Darla. Good. She needed the boy to remind her that there were plenty of valid reasons to resist the temptation to forget the past and start over with Fletcher.

  At the end of the service Pastor Ferguson announced the baptism of Emma Keller and asked the child’s parents and godparents to join him before the congregation. Little Emma slept through the entire ceremony—not even the cold water droplets the pastor dabbed on her forehead disturbed her. After the prayer, the congregation sang a final hymn, then Pastor Ferguson stood outside on the church steps, shaking hands with the parishioners as they headed to the parking lot.

  “You didn’t tell me you were coming to church with Fletcher,” Sissy whispered.

  “It’s no big deal.” Darla’s gaze narrowed on Fletcher who conversed with a man she didn’t recognize.

  Sissy handed Emma to her mother-in-law. “What’s going on between you two?”

  “Nothing.”

  “If it’s nothing then why can’t you take your eyes off him?” Sissy asked.

  Good grief. Darla forced her attention from Fletcher and focused on her friend. “It’s complicated.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Darla sighed. “I thought spending time with Fletcher would prove that I’m over him. That we’re different people. That I can finally let go of the past.”

  “But?”

  She shrugged. “He still makes me feel things.”

  “You’re not in lo—”

  “No.” Darla was not in love with Fletcher McFadden. Who are you trying to convince—Sissy or you? “Whatever feelings I have for him are part of my past. Besides, it could never work out between us.”

  “Why not?”

  “For obvious reasons. I have a career and a life in Dallas. I’m not giving that up.”

  “We’ll talk about this later.” Sissy grasped her arm. “I meant to tell you earlier but you arrived too late with Fletcher. Emma’s running a low-grade temperature.”

  “Nothing serious I hope.”

  “She’s teething. I’m delaying the party and cookout until early this evening. I want Emma to take a nap and frankly I need one after being up all night with her.”

  “That’s fine. What time should I drop over?”

  “We’ll fire up the grill between five and six.” Sissy glanced at Fletcher. “I imagine you’ll find something to do until then…?”

  Fletcher watched Darla hug her friend, but when Sissy walked off with her family, Darla remained behind. “Aren’t you heading to the baptism party?” he asked, when she joined him at the church doors.

  “Little Emma’s not feeling well, so the barbecue’s been delayed until tonight.”

  “What’s wrong with the baby?” he asked.

  “Sissy says she’s te
ething.”

  His face broke out in a wide smile. “That means we can have lunch before you show Danny and I how to make Christmas decorations.”

  Drat. She’d forgotten about the promise she’d made yesterday. “I guess that would be fine.”

  “Great.” He escorted her out of the building, then Darla excused herself to say hello to Mrs. Franks who waved from beneath the big oak near the parking lot.

  Danny and Fletcher’s father stood on the sidewalk waiting for Fletcher. “Where are we gonna eat?” Danny asked, tugging on Fletcher’s sport coat pocket. The traditional Sunday pot-roast meal had passed away along with Fletcher’s mother. He and his father had begun a new tradition—eating Sunday brunch out.

  “It’s up to Grandpa, Danny. I’m taking Ms. Baker to lunch.”

  “We’ll scrounge up something at home,” his father said. He patted Danny’s shoulder but the boy shrugged off the touch.

  “I wanna go with you,” Danny whined.

  “Ms. Baker and I won’t be long. We’re making Christmas decorations this afternoon, remember?”

  “I don’t want to make any dumb decorations.” Danny stomped off toward his grandfather’s truck.

  “He’ll get over it,” his father said, then followed Danny to the parking lot.

  Fletcher wished he knew the words to reassure his son that he didn’t have to feel threatened by Darla. He admitted there were days he missed the intimacies between a woman and a man. His relationship with Sandi had never been like that. He’d never been able to read her mind. Or finish her sentences. Or know what she wanted before she asked for it. He’d had that kind of relationship with Darla once.

  But you blew it.

  There was no going back for him and Darla. And no going forward—not until Danny conquered his insecurities over his mother’s abandonment. The boy couldn’t make it any clearer that he didn’t want his father involved with another woman. For now Fletcher intended to enjoy what little time he had with Darla.

  Easier said than done, because right now. Right here. He wanted more from her than a little time.

  FLETCHER CUT ACROSS the front lawn and stopped a respectable distance from the chatting women and waited for one of them to notice him. Neither did, which left him no choice but to eavesdrop. He wished he hadn’t.