Long, Tall Cowboy Christmas (Happy, Texas Book 2)

by Carolyn Brown

  Nash slung open the double barn doors and then hopped into the truck, slammed the door shut, and fastened his seat belt. “Hope Springs? I drive to the end of my lane and turn right? I guess that dog belongs to you?”

  Kasey bobbed her head twice.

  “His name is Hero and he’s got a sister, Princess, and a brother, Doggy. They belong to Emma and Silas, but they ain’t as smart as Hero,” Rustin said enthusiastically. “I think he likes you.”

  “He looks like a good dog.”

  Hero flopped his big black head over the seat and licked Nash’s face from chin to ear then lay down with his head in Rustin’s lap. If it was true that children and dogs knew who to trust and who to back away from—everything would be just fine.

  Nash sat rigidly straight in the truck seat, reminding her again of Adam’s posture, even if they didn’t look anything alike. Adam had topped out at five feet nine inches, and that was with his cowboy boots on. He’d had clear blue eyes and blond hair. He’d always looked so young that he was carded anytime he ordered a drink, and he had a smile that would light up the whole universe.

  The man sitting beside her with a death grip on the steering wheel was a silent, brooding type who had a lot of darkness inside him. He might be late twenties or maybe early thirties, and no one would ever mistake him as being underage.

  He drove slowly to the end of the lane, made a right, and then another one a quarter of a mile down the road. The first big raindrops fell, mixing with the dust to create mud that hit the windshield in splats. The wipers couldn’t work fast enough to keep the smears from the windows, so Nash backed off the gas and took them the rest of the way at five miles an hour.

  “Rustin, you go straight to the bathroom and shuck out of those clothes. And you”—Kasey turned toward Nash—“you do not have to be a gentleman and open doors. Thanks for the ride.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “And thank you, Kasey, for not shooting me. I apologize once again.”

  “Didn’t have my pistol,” she answered as she bailed out of the truck and ran through the nasty rain toward the house. Dripping mud, she stopped inside the front door and kicked off her boots.

  Wiping her hands on an apron tied around her waist, her grandmother, Hope, came out of the kitchen with Silas, Kasey’s youngest son, and Emma, the middle child, right behind her. Their little eyes widened out like they were looking at a monster.

  “Mama, did you and Rustin have a mud fight?” Emma was totally aghast.

  “Mommy all yucky.” Silas’s nose twitched.

  Hope giggled. “Got to agree with them, Kasey. You look like you lost a mud-wrestling match. I was about to call to check on you when Rustin came through here like a shot and headed toward the bathroom.”

  “I told him to go straight to the bathroom and get cleaned up. It’s practically raining mud out there with that dust storm.” Kasey pulled gobs of wet mud from her naturally curly red hair when she ran her fingers through it.

  “Ick,” Emma said. She grabbed Silas’s hand and dragged him toward the living room. “Let’s go build a Lego princess castle.”

  “Yep.” Silas nodded seriously.

  “So, you got to see Nash Lamont, huh?” Hope sat down in a ladder-back chair beside the foyer table. “What does he look like?”

  “He’s every bit as tall as Brody. Dark eyes, dark hair. Military for sure. He doesn’t talk a lot, but he seems nice enough.” Kasey started on down the hall.

  “Did he mention his great-uncle Henry?” Hope fingered the gold locket around her neck with a wistful look in her eyes.

  “No, but he had Rustin slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Scared the devil out of me.”

  Hope clucked like an old hen as she stood up and brushed her hair back with her hand. She wasn’t much taller than Kasey, had gray hair and bright green eyes, and was still the queen bee of Hope Springs, even if she had turned most of the day-to-day operations over to Kasey’s brothers, Brody and Jace, the spring before. Her face and attention to style belied her seventy-two years. “I got to go call Molly and tell her that you almost killed the new man in town.”

  “Granny!” Kasey’s green eyes, so much like her grandmother’s, popped wide open. “I didn’t even try to kill him. I might have if he’d been kidnapping my son, but he was having a flashback to the war stuff. Adam did that more than once. I felt sorry for him.”

  Hope headed for the kitchen. “Might be wise to stay away from a man who’s got problems like that.”

  Kasey couldn’t agree more, but then there was something in those dark, brooding eyes that made her want to know more about him. She dropped her dirty clothing on the bathroom floor and stepped into the shower. She lathered up her hair three times before the water ran clear. With a towel wrapped around her body, she peeked out the door before she darted down the hall. She almost made it to the wing of the house where she and the kids lived when the front door opened.

  “Hey!” Her sister-in-law, Lila, grinned as she removed a mud-splashed yellow slicker and laid it across the chair where Hope had been sitting. Not a single bit of dirt stuck to her jet-black ponytail, and her brown eyes glimmered. “I heard that you had a confrontation with the new neighbor. I also heard that he’s quite a hunk.”

  Kasey wiped a hand across her brow. “Granny didn’t waste a bit of time, did she?”

  Lila followed her back to the bedroom. “I was out in the barn helping Brody when the storm hit. Thought I’d come get the whole story from you.”

  Kasey told it again as she got dressed.

  “So the part about him being downright sexy is true?” Lila asked.

  Kasey shook out her curly red hair and started to brush it. “You ever read Wuthering Heights?”

  “Of course. I used to be an English teacher, remember?” Lila nodded. “Is Nash a Heathcliff?”

  “Oh, yeah, exactly.” Kasey nodded.

  *

  Nash parked outside the two-story, white frame house and ran inside with mud slapping against his shoulders and head the whole way. He’d seen massive sandstorms when he’d been on missions and he’d endured tornadoes in east Texas and central Louisiana. He had even lived through hurricanes, but never had he seen it rain mud until that day. Maybe it was an omen that he should have never taken his grandmother’s advice and moved to Happy, Texas, to find some peace and quiet on the old family ranch. He left his boots and coat at the back door and padded straight to the bathroom in his socks.

  His great-grandmother, Minnie Thomas, had died more than twelve years ago, and even though he’d been a teenager when he attended the funeral, he remembered that every flat surface in the house had been covered with ceramic angels and animals of all descriptions.

  That was back when Uncle Henry lived there after his thirty-year military stint. His dad had gotten sick, so he came home to take care of him, not planning to stay five years, much less almost twenty.

  “I guess Great-Granny Minnie needed help runnin’ this place, but why did you leave the second time?” Nash muttered. “And if you were going, why did you put away all of Grandma’s stuff? Guess if I was meant to know you’d tell me.”

  It sure looked different now—flat-out stark with only the necessities. No fancy candy dishes or feminine touches anywhere. He dropped his dirty clothing on the floor outside the tiny downstairs bathroom. It had a wall-hung sink, a shower so small that he could barely turn around, and a potty—all crammed together so tight that his jeans and shirt covered the entire floor.

  The upstairs bathroom was a lot bigger, with a claw-foot tub and a double sink vanity. It even had room for a ladder-back chair beside the tub to hold a stack of towels. But there was no shower, and Nash relished the spray of scalding hot water.

  Sending up a silent prayer that all the mud didn’t clog the drains, he looked down at the swirling water around his feet and was reminded of all the blood that day.

  No! He wouldn’t go there. He made himself think about something else as he kept his eye
s away from the shower floor. Forcing himself to go over what all he needed to do the next few days, he finished and then bumped his head on the curtain rod as he stepped out.

  “Dammit!” He swore under his breath as he tucked a towel around his waist and tossed his dirty clothing in the washing machine before he went to the master bedroom located right off the foyer.

  He glanced around the room and realization hit him. His uncle Henry, who’d lived here with his ailing parents, had been a career military man. All that clutter that Great-Granny had everywhere must’ve driven him crazy. That’s why the place had changed so much. When Great-Granny died, Uncle Henry had done a job on the place, turning it into what he’d been used to when he was in the army.

  “And I’m just like him.” Nash groaned as he glanced around his bedroom at the bed made so tightly that a quarter would bounce right off it. Not a wrinkle in sight. Table with only a lamp and the book he was reading beside a recliner. His foot locker at the end of the bed with a go-bag still packed sitting on the top of it. Half a dozen shirts and a few pairs of jeans hung with exactly the same distance between the wire hangers in the closet. If a five-star general did a surprise inspection, Nash would pass with flying colors.

  The window shades were pulled up to let in as much light as possible—at least on days when the wind wasn’t slinging mud balls against the windows. Sinking down in the recliner, he sighed and pulled the lever to raise the footrest. His grandma had decided that a nice quiet little ranch in the panhandle of Texas would be a good place to get his head on straight. She’d moved away from Happy more than sixty years ago, but she still had fond memories of the Texas Star Ranch, where she and her brother, who was also Nash’s great-uncle, Henry had grown up.

  He went to the kitchen window and stared out across the flat pasture separating the house from the barn, which was just a blob in the distance. His sheep were probably unhappy in there, but at least they wouldn’t have mud balls embedded in their wool.

  Two years ago he’d been discharged from the army. Within weeks, his dad and his grandfather had both died and he’d gone to his grandmother’s place outside of Jefferson, Texas, to help her out on the ranch. One of her neighbors had had an orphan lamb, and he wound up taking care of it. Two years later he had ten in his little flock.

  He was deep in thought about putting up better fence around the pasture from house to barn when his phone rang and startled him. He managed to work it out of his hip pocket and answer it on the fourth ring.

  “Hello, Addy,” he said and imagined his grandmother sitting on the sofa in her new place. “How are things in Jefferson?”

  “I’m adjusting to town life. It’s sure different from living five miles out on a ranch.” She laughed.

  The sound of her voice put a smile on his face. “It’s raining mud here in this part of Texas.”

  “I saw that a couple of times when I was young. I remember once Mama had white sheets on the line when it hit. Come out of nowhere, but in them days we didn’t have all this technology to tell us when the weather was going to be bad. How are you doin’ there? Have you called your mama?”

  “I met Kasey and her son, Rustin, today,” he said bluntly. “I don’t remember her from the times when I came here as a kid. And no, I haven’t called Mama but I promise I will.”

  “I wouldn’t expect that you ever met her or her brothers. We usually only stayed a couple of days and you trailed around after my dad most of the time. And he never left the ranch unless he had to. You settlin’ into the town?”

  He managed a chuckle. “It’s almost a ghost town. If it wasn’t for those grain silos, I imagine the wind would have blown the whole place away years ago. Even after living on the ranch outside of Jefferson the past two years, this is still a cultural shock.”

  His grandmother’s name was Adelaide, and that’s what he heard folks call her when he was a little kid so he’d just shortened it to Addy. Not Granny Addy or even Grandma Addy, but just plain old Addy.

  She giggled. “What’s the size of the town matter to you? You’re practically a hermit so what are you missin’? Town could be as big as Dallas and you’d stay on the ranch just like you did here. But you did promise to stay there a year.”

  “Addy, there’s one café, a school, two churches, grain silos, and lots of ranches. I’m a man of my word, but…”

  “I didn’t promise easy when I sent you there, but it’s a good place to find yourself and figure out if you want to be a soldier or a rancher, grandson. You can’t ride two horses with only one ass.” She laughed at her own joke.

  “Addy!” His deep southern drawl raised an octave.

  “That is not a dirty word. Jesus rode one into town, remember, but he wasn’t foolish enough to try to ride two.”

  “Okay, you’ve made your point. Did you know that Kasey McKay was living right next door?”

  “I talked to her grandmother, Hope, a while back, and she mentioned Kasey had come back. We were visitin’ about me selling her the Texas Star. Is livin’ close to Kasey goin’ to be a problem?”

  “Probably not, since we won’t see each other,” he answered.

  “You’re right about that. Got to go now. Keep in touch. And call your mama.”

  “Will do. Love you, Addy,” he said as he hit the end button.

  To keep his word, he hit the numbers to his mother’s place in Louisiana. She answered on the third ring. “Hey, son, how’s it going? Great minds must think alike because I was just about to call you.”

  “I’m beginning to settle in. I met Kasey McKay today, Mama.”

  “You can do this, son. It might not be easy but it’ll bring closure,” Naomi Lamont said.

  “I hope so,” Nash said. “I really do hope so.”

  Half an hour later he ended the call but he still felt a drawing into that dark place where he didn’t want to go. One year wouldn’t be easy—not with Kasey McKay living next door—but keeping secrets was part of his job description. Had he known that she was anywhere near Happy, Texas, wild horses couldn’t have dragged him here.

  Chapter Two

  The church was packed that Saturday afternoon when Kasey did her slow walk down the aisle toward the front and took her place. Then the traditional wedding music began, and Lila appeared at the back in a long, fitted white dress. A circlet of white roses held a short veil, but she’d opted not to wear it over her face. Her mother, Daisy, walked her down the aisle and put Lila’s hand into Brody’s.

  “I’m not giving my daughter away today, but I’m willing to share her with you. Just know that if you ever hurt her in any way, you have me to answer to. Now be happy,” Daisy said.

  “Yes, ma’am. You have my word that I will love her with my whole heart forever,” Brody said.

  “Good,” Daisy said and took her place beside her two coworkers, Molly and Georgia, in the front pew.

  Kasey was happy for her brother and for his new bride as they stood at the front of the church that Saturday afternoon and said their vows. But there was a tinge of sadness, too. In that same church a little more than eight years ago, Kasey had been the one in a sweeping white satin dress with her handsome groom beside her in his army uniform. And then six years after that, she’d worn a simple black sheath dress and stood before the closed casket bearing her precious Adam’s body. She’d been pregnant with their third child, trying to hold herself together and be strong for little Rustin and Emma.

  Today, Kasey held the bouquet as her brother married the only woman who’d ever truly held his heart. He and Lila had taken a long, curvy road back to each other after twelve years apart, but they were finally together now. And from the look in her dark brown eyes and his crystal-clear blue ones, it was one of those matches made far above the white fluffy clouds in the sky.

  Lila had chosen a simple dress that hugged her curves. With a side slit, it made for easy walking and showed off a pair of red cowgirl boots. Her dark hair floated in loose waves halfway down her back. Leave it to Lila to do
things her way and not even give two hoots about what folks in Happy, Texas, might think about it.

  Kasey kept a smile on her face through the ceremony, but making it reach all the way to the depths of her heart was impossible. She glanced down at the first pew where her mother sat with the children. Emma in her cute little ivory lace, and the boys in their bow ties were behaving, which was a pure miracle. When the service ended and everyone had gotten out of the church, Jace waved at her from over the tops of heads and mouthed her mother had the children with her.

  Kasey made her way through the crowd to her minivan, where she couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. She wept for what had been and what would never be again. She cried for her three precious children—who had amazing uncles in her brothers, Brody and Jace, an awesome aunt now in Lila, and priceless grandparents, but would never have a father. And she sobbed for her own emptiness. A heart needed to be shared, not locked away in solitude.

  When she reached Hope Springs, she made a quick run through the bathroom, dried her eyes, reapplied makeup, and headed down the path from house to barn to greet family and friends with a brilliant smile. Fall leaves from the pecan tree in the backyard crunched under her feet. A brisk breeze flipped strands of her hair into her face, and she wished that she’d put it up into a ponytail while she was in the house. She drew the gold-colored wrap that matched her bridesmaid’s dress tightly around her shoulders and lengthened her stride.

  “Are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.” Her grandmother met her at the barn door, looped her arm into Kasey’s, and led her toward the food tables.

  “Allergies,” Kasey said.

  “Allergic to memories of your own wedding and Adam’s funeral right there in the same church? You might be able to fool some folks, but not your granny. I love you, and it hurts me to see you in pain like this. It’s time to move on, my child,” Hope whispered.