The Best Cowboy Christmas Ever
Page 1
Also by June Faver
Dark Horse Cowboys
Do or Die Cowboy
Hot Target Cowboy
When to Call a Cowboy
Cowboy Christmas Homecoming
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Books. Change. Lives.
Copyright © 2020 by June Faver
Cover and internal design © 2020 by Sourcebooks
Cover art by Kris Keller/Lott Reps
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410
(630) 961-3900
sourcebooks.com
Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
About the Author
Back Cover
Chapter 1
Angelique Guillory let out a gasp when her car started to skid. She tried to compensate, her heart racing as she struggled to guide the vehicle across the icy highway. The black ice sent her fishtailing across the wide roadway, and the vehicle did a complete 180-degree turn before veering into a ditch. It was a slow-motion nightmare as she went sliding off the roadway and nose-first into a snowdrift.
She checked her passenger, but Gabrielle seemed to have weathered the excitement with no ill effects. In fact, she had slept through the entire episode.
Angelique took a moment to give thanks for their survival. She heaved a huge sigh, her heart still trying to beat its way out of her chest.
Okay, now to get back on the road, but not as fast this time.
The motor was still running, so she shifted into reverse and looked over her shoulder before applying a little gas. Slowly now.
The wheels spun in the snow, but the vehicle did not move. She pressed the gas pedal again, but again the wheels spun without actually moving the car.
She rested her forehead against the steering wheel. No. Not when I’ve come so very far.
Angelique refused to give in to self-pity. She sucked in a deep breath and, at the same time, pressed her lips together. Pulling her scarf around her head and buttoning her jacket, she tried to drum up a fresh dose of optimism. Too bad she didn’t have the proper clothes for this weather.
She opened the door, pushing hard to dislodge it from the snow. When she stepped out, her shoes sank into almost a foot of the white stuff.
It’s crunchy. Somehow she had thought snow would be soft and mushy like a marshmallow. And cold. It was as though her feet had instantly frozen.
Angelique looked up and down the highway. Although it was quite a well-kept four-lane route, there was no traffic. Probably all the smart people around here are huddled by a roaring fire in their homes.
Her eyes watered, and it felt as though the cold was abrading her cheeks.
Glancing up at the gray sky, Angelique wished she had hung out a little longer at that Mexican restaurant in Langston. It had been brightly decorated with strings of tinsel, and a large Christmas tree sat in one corner, adorned with very colorful decorations.
There was canned music. Mexican Christmas songs were playing, and all the patrons seemed to be pretty jolly. Perhaps it was the small-town vibe…or it might have been the seasonal cheer and the fact that quite a few of the diners had chosen a bottle of beer to wash down their lunch. “Feliz Navidad,” the voices sang. Now she had that tune playing in her head.
At least it was warm there, and the waitress was friendly. Milita, her name was. “Feliz Navidad,” Milita had said. “Y prospero año nuevo.”
Angelique wanted to have a prosperous new year and to be able to enjoy the holidays without looking over her shoulder. She had too much at stake, for herself as well as the one she loved. My Gabi.
Milita had given Angelique directions to her destination. The place where she hoped they would be welcomed. It was almost Christmas, after all.
Angelique saw a vehicle coming her way. It must have been coming from or at least through Langston. She was torn between hoping for a savior and fearing for her safety. The total isolation of her situation was just dawning on her. Oh, please…
The vehicle was a truck…a pickup truck.
She stood frozen in place, and, in fact, she felt frozen. She turned her back on the strong breeze, her hands tucked in her jacket pockets.
As the truck neared, the driver slowed down. Her heart fell when he passed her by, but she realized he was pulling over on the shoulder just ahead of her snowbound vehicle.
Angelique pressed her lips together, hoping this person could help her.
The driver’s side door swung open, and a man got out. He looked like the consummate cowboy. Boots and denims, topped off with a cowboy hat. He was wearing a tan suede jacket lined with fleece and leather gloves. He was tall and looked like a giant Y coming toward her, with broad shoulders, tapering down to long legs.
He appeared to be pleasant as he approached, his breath coming out in wisps of white streaming behind him. He had sandy-blond hair and brown eyes.
“Hey, little lady. Looks like you’re in a jam.”
“Um, yes. Well, the road was really slick.” She sounded defensive, even to her own ears.
“Yeah, that happens a lot around here this time of year. The road crew hasn’t gotten out this far to spread sand on the highway.” He pointed to his truck. “We mostly drive with all-weather tires.”
“Oh no. I have to wait for sand?” Desperation was taking over her psyche.
He raised his gloved hands. “Not at all. I can pull you out of the snowbank, but we have to see if your car is drivable. You may have twisted something underneath.”
Angelique wrung her hands together. “How can I tell?”
He grinned, and she realized how handsome he was. The big brown eyes were gazing at her as though they found something worth looking at.
She felt her color rising. “What do I need to do?”
“Well, you better get back in your car, because it’s cold out here and that jacket doesn’t look near warm enough.” He gestured toward her car, tilted into the ditch. “Let me help you.”
He took her elbow, walked her to the vehicle, and opened the door for her.
She turned to gaze up at him. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me.”
He flashed another killer grin. “Don’t thank me yet. Let me see if I can get you out of here. Now, climb in out of the cold.” He closed her door and walked back toward his vehicle.
All of her windows had immediately fogged up, so she turned on the defroster and rolled the front two side windows down and back up quickly to clear them.
Angelique watched him return to his truck and back it up toward her rear bumper. What if he pulls the bumper off? What will I do then?
He dug around in a big toolbox affixed to his truck bed and dragged out a heavy chain with a big hook on each end. He hooked one end on something under the front of his truck and had to lie down in the snow to hook the other end to some part of her car’s undercarriage. He climbed out, snow clinging to his jacket, and gave her a thumbs-up before returning to his truck.
Angelique gripped the wheel, staring into first one and then another of her side view mirrors, but her rear window was totally frosted over.
She felt the car jerk when the chain was taut, and after that, the car began moving backwards. Her car bumped back onto the pavement in reverse. She released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
The man left his truck idling and came to unhook his chain. He stopped by her door, and she opened the window.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so very much. I-I have some money to pay you.” She reached for her purse.
“No, don’t even think about it. Which way are you headed?”
“I was going the same direction you were, but the car spun into the ditch.”
He nodded. “Try to turn around slowly, and if you’re able to steer, I’ll follow along behind you for a while to make sure you’re okay.”
Angelique couldn’t believe how kind this stranger was. “Thanks again, Mr…?”
“Derrick. My name is Derrick Shelton.”
“Thank you, Derrick. I’m Angelique.”
“Nice to know you, Angelique. Now, be safe. Y’hear?” He grinned and gave her a two-fingered salute off the brim of his cowboy hat, then climbed back into his truck. He waited until she very slowly managed to turn her car around and then fell in a comfortable distance behind her.
When she saw the odd horseshoe-shaped gate with the name Garrett emblazoned overhead, she turned off the highway, giving him a wave before she bumped over the cattle guard and entered the property.
He tooted his horn at her and went on.
For a moment, Angelique felt abandoned, but then she lifted her chin a bit, knowing that somewhere on this road, she would find the answers to questions that had plagued her all her life.
* * *
“Dad! Are you expecting someone?”
Big Jim Garrett came to the front of his ranch house and found Tyler, his middle son, peering out one of the windows flanking the front door. “Not expecting anyone, but it’s Christmastime. People know they can stop by.” Big Jim stepped to the other side of the door and saw a black SUV pulling up close to the house. It looked stark in contrast to the whiteness of the snowy landscape. “Maybe there’s a religious pamphlet they think I just gotta have.”
It appeared that a dark-haired woman was behind the wheel, and she was sorting through something. In time, she climbed out of the vehicle and wound a scarf around her head, then began to plod her way through the snow and up onto the porch. She stood for a few moments, as though uncertain.
“Open the door, Son. Let her inside,” Big Jim urged.
Tyler swung the door open, startling the woman, who let out a little gasp of surprise.
“Come right in, young lady,” Big Jim invited.
Tyler stepped back and waved her inside.
“I—I’m looking for James Garrett. I got directions in town, and I think I’ve got the right place.”
“You found me,” Big Jim said. “I’m James Garrett. What can I do for you?”
She gazed at him with eyes as blue as his own. “I—uh… I need to get my daughter out of the car. Is that okay?”
“Well, sure,” Big Jim said. “Let me help you.” He strode out beside her, holding her arm as they stepped off the porch. His boots sank into the new-fallen snow. “Watch yourself. This walk gets slippery.”
The woman leaned into the vehicle and released a small child from a safety seat. When she turned, Big Jim held out his hands to take the child. He lifted the little one against his chest so she could see over his shoulder. “Hey, little lady.”
The little girl’s lips trembled. She gazed around, making sure her mom was nearby. She reached out a hand to her mother. “Mommy?”
“It’s okay, my precious. I’m right here.” Angelique stroked the child’s hand.
Big Jim held his hand out to the young mother and escorted her up to the porch and into the house, while Tyler held the door open for them.
Big Jim showed the woman into the room his beloved deceased wife, Elizabeth, had called the parlor. He wasn’t sure what that was supposed to be, but he kept it neat in her honor.
The parlor was a cheery room, with framed family pictures and chintz fabric on the settee. Big Jim had not had the heart to change a thing since Elizabeth had passed on. Even the sheet music on her piano remained as she had left it.
Big Jim gestured for the woman to be seated before he took the nearest chair. Tyler lounged against the door frame, his arms folded across his broad chest.
The child was bundled up in a one-piece quilted outfit with zippers. Big Jim let the hood fall back and was staring into the child’s eyes—eyes everyone around the Langston area called Garrett blue. These were the same kind of blue eyes his three sons had inherited from him. And most of the cousins had the same familial characteristic. Unusual turquoise-blue eyes with a darker ring around the edge.
Garrett blue.
Tyler’s wife, Leah, entered the room, smiling. “I thought I heard some voices up here. Do we have company?”
Tyler put his arm around her shoulder. “Apparently.”
Big Jim was staring at the young woman. “I didn’t catch your name.”
She cleared her throat. “My name is Angelique Guillory, and you’re holding my daughter, Gabrielle.”
Big Jim’s brows furrowed. “Guillory? I knew someone with that name a long time ago.” He recalled one of his first girlfriends, the beautiful Sofie Guillory.
“Yes, you did.” The color in Angelique’s cheeks heightened. “I believe you’re my father.”
* * *
Derrick Shelton strode into the sheriff’s office in Langston. He took off his leather gloves and suede jacket as he walked. Shep Collier, the new deputy, always had the gas heater turned up so high Derrick had to peel off layers or pass out.
“Hi, Sheriff,” Shep said. “How was your trip?”
“Fine, I guess.”
Breckenridge T. Ryan, the only lawyer in Langston, had called on Derrick to appear in a court case. The drive to the courthouse in Amarillo had been eventful, with the opportunity to help a beautiful damsel in distress.
Derrick shoved his gloves in a pocket of the jacket and hung it on the bentwood coat-tree near the door. “Anything happen while I was gone?”
“Um, no, sir.” Shep shuffled through the messages. “I took a report from old man Shaw. He said there were some stray goats wande
ring on the road out by his place.”
“I’ll tell you what, Shep. Why don’t you go out and help round up those goats? The only person I know who owns goats around here is that woman who makes cheese. She lives a little farther down the road from the Shaws.”
Shep was scrambling into his jacket and hat. He wrapped a scarf around his neck and was halfway out the door before he turned. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate you letting me go. I’ll make you proud, sir.”
Derrick tried to remember if he had ever been this annoying. “Good man. Wish them a Merry Christmas from the department.”
“Oh yes, sir. I’ll do that.” Shep rushed out the door.
Derrick turned the gas stove down and went to his desk. Taking over for the old sheriff had come at a price. He stared at the folders on his desk and sighed. Paperwork was not his forte. He poured himself a cup of coffee and settled into his chair. Shoving the papers aside, his thoughts returned to the dark-haired beauty he had encountered earlier.
Angelique. She said her name was Angelique.
But that was all he knew. He had been surprised when she turned in at the Garrett ranch. Maybe she was visiting for the holidays.
Those amazing eyes. She could be a relative. A cousin, or something.
He sipped the coffee, trying to think of an excuse to call on the Garretts.
* * *
Tyler Garrett stared at the woman in shock. She couldn’t be saying what he thought he had heard. That would make her his sister. And that absolutely could not be true.
Leah had no such doubts. “Yes, I can see it now. There’s quite a family resemblance.” She crossed the room to offer her hand. “I’m Leah Garrett, and this is my husband, Tyler.”
The woman looked a bit bewildered, but accepted Leah’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, I’m sure.” She took Gabrielle from Big Jim and drew the little girl close.
“What a precious little girl.” Leah stroked the back of her fingers over the child’s cheek, eliciting a dimpled smile from the child.
“Thank you,” the woman said. “Please call me Angelique.” She heaved a big sigh. “Or Angel. People back home call me that… At least my mama did.”