A Very Cowboy Christmas

by Kim Redford

  “Oh yes, Mr. December.” She held up her right hand with freshly painted bloodred fingernails sharpened to lethal points. “Please let me feel your bicep so I’ll know for sure you’re strong enough to autograph my calendar.”

  That stopped him in his tracks. He glanced over at Sydney where she stood beside Serena Simmons, the Station’s owner, watching and listening to the ongoing debacle. He’d get no help there. She simply grinned and smirked, letting him know—once more—that it was all for a good cause. He leaned down and presented his arm. Nails dug into the cotton fabric of his blue plaid snap-shirt stretched over his muscular bicep.

  “Oh yes, Mr. December, I do believe you’re strong enough to handle anything a gal might need.” Lila wiggled her eyebrows at him.

  He grabbed the calendar out of her hands, accepting the pen and managing not to get caught by her strong fingers again. He jerked the calendar open to the last month and stopped in shock. He hadn’t seen his photograph till now. If steam hadn’t been coming out of his ears already, it would be now. No wonder women were lining up for his signature. He looked as if he was ready to take any one of them, or all of them, for a spin in the pretty pink Cadillac without ever leaving the back seat. It was flat-out embarrassing, particularly because this photo would be seen all over Wildcat Bluff County and probably several nearby counties and clear up into Oklahoma.

  He glanced over at Sydney and gave her the hardest glare he could manage. He quickly scrawled what Lila wanted across his chest in the picture and thrust the calendar back into her small hands. He kept the pen, figuring he was going to need it—not only for signing calendars but as a possible defensive weapon.

  “Oh, thank you, Mr. December.” She batted her eyelashes at him again. “I do believe it’s going to be December all year long for me.”

  “Next.” He tried to smile since it was for a good cause, but he was afraid his face was frozen in a look of sheer horror as he contemplated just how far his picture might extend across Texas. He could only hope it didn’t reach the Hill Country, or he’d never hear the last of it from his family and friends there.

  “You’re very photogenic, Mr. December, but I suppose you already know that bit of news.” A tall gal with big red hair, professionally made-up face, and pointy-toe boots gave him a wide, white grin.

  “Nope. Just found out.” He accepted her calendar, being careful not to touch her strong-looking, short-nailed hand. She appeared as if she might still be competing in barrel racing, so he didn’t want to get on her bad side either. Those rhinestone-flashy cowgirls were tough and strong with long memories for cowboys who might’ve done them wrong.

  “If you’ll sign it to ‘Charlene,’ I’ll be ever so grateful.” She leaned in close, reeking of floral hair product. “By the way, Mr. December, I’m having a Christmas party out at the ranch come next weekend. I’d be even more grateful if you could find it in your big, manly heart to be there for little ole me.”

  He almost stabbed through the paper at that remark, but he remembered his manners and the long memories of barrel racers, so he cracked his face with a smile, finished signing his name, and thrust the calendar back into her hands. He inclined his head toward Sydney. “See that cowgirl over there?”

  Charlene turned to look in that direction, then she sniffed in disdain. “Yes. That’s Sydney Steele off Steele Trap Ranch, isn’t it?”

  “Yep. I’d better tell you right up front. She’d skin the hide off me if I so much as glanced at a good-looking cowgirl like you.”

  Charlene tossed her head much in the way of an irritated horse and clutched the calendar to her ample bosom. “That Sydney Steele did have all the luck, drat her.” She leaned in close again. “But I’ve won a few races in my time, too. Tell you what, Mr. December. If you ever break out of her pasture, give me a call. Running C Ranch. Charlene.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” As the cowgirl sashayed away, he glanced over at Sydney again. This time she didn’t look quite so pleased with herself. Fact of the matter, she looked a little on the put-out side. And that gave him an idea as to how to turn this whole mess around and get the hell out of Dodge. “Step right up, ladies. I’m ready, willing, and able to sign your calendars.”

  As the group surged toward him, he clicked his pen and got ready to write “xoxo” a lot of times.

  Pretty quick, he noted that his ruse had worked like a charm. Sydney said her goodbyes to Serena and sidled up beside him, obviously staking her claim and making sure everybody understood that Mr. December was already taken by a cowgirl strong enough to hold him.

  He plowed through those calendars—and all those eager ladies—much like a hot knife through butter. He wanted out of a place that sported too many frilly things, too many torture-looking devices, and way too many sweet, smelly products. And that didn’t begin to mention the predatory ladies all in a row.

  When he’d signed the last calendar, he tossed the ballpoint pen to Serena, grabbed Sydney’s hand, and made a beeline for the front door.

  “Now, don’t be a stranger,” Serena called out. “We style men’s hair as well as women’s.”

  He shuddered at the idea of ever returning to the Sure-Shot Beauty Station, but he turned back and gave a slight wave to all the women clutching their calendars before he hustled Sydney out the door.

  He didn’t breathe a sigh of relief till they were seated in Celeste and headed down Main Street.

  “If you ever—and I mean ever—suggest I go back in that place, I’ll—”

  “Don’t you want to be a sex symbol in Wildcat Bluff County?” Sydney glanced over at him, opening her eyes wide in an attempt to look innocent.

  “No! I’m a cowboy firefighter, not a—”

  “Sex symbol?” she teased.

  “As it is, I may have to leave town, the county, maybe the whole state.” He still could hardly believe the response to Mr. December.

  “Are you afraid of all the cowgirls who’ll be after you?”

  “We’re talking respect here, or lack of it.”

  “Oh, I think you’ll be getting a lot of respect.”

  “Not the kind I want,” he growled, throwing an irritated look her way.

  “I think you’re overreacting to the situation.”

  “What? I could’ve lost my shirt—or more. Those were hungry ladies.”

  “But nicely put together. Serena does a good job.”

  “You’re not taking this seriously.”

  “Maybe not.” She winked at him. “You’re a hunk. You might as well go ahead and admit it.”

  “I’m a cowboy.”

  “Do you need a kiss again?”

  “A kiss won’t even come close to repairing my loss of dignity.” Even if he was still grumpy, he was beginning to see the humor in the situation, so he might as well turn it to his advantage.

  “Do you need more than a kiss?”

  “Yes, I surely do.” He glanced over at her, feeling mischievous. “I bet that Charlene could make me feel a whole lot better.”

  Sydney took a fast, hard turn onto Wildcat Road. “I’ve outrun her a time or two.”

  “No doubt.”

  “I suspect she’s made a lot of cowboys feel a whole lot better.”

  “A cowgirl with experience, huh?”

  “Maybe too much experience.”

  “Is there such a thing?”

  Sydney stepped hard on the accelerator, and the Cadillac leaped forward. “If you’re trying to get my goat, you’d better think again. I’m in no mood for a Charlene or a Rhonda or a Linda Lou trying to make time with my guy.”

  He smiled in satisfaction at her response. “You’re jealous.”

  “Am not. It’s just—”

  “I’m your guy?”

  She gave a big sigh as she focused on the road. “I’m not having this discussion.” She clenched her hands on
the steering wheel. “If a kiss isn’t enough to make up for your loss of dignity, how about I get you a pretty plant for your cabin? A red poinsettia for Christmas might be just the thing.”

  He decided to let her get away with the change in subject. After all, she’d just let him know that she was well on her way to falling in love with him. Nothing could have pleased him more. He’d even let her tease him about Mr. December, particularly since that photo had made her jealous. “I don’t need a plant. If B.J. saw a flower in my room, he’d laugh even harder at me.”

  “I take it that’s a ‘no’ regarding a pretty flower.”

  “Yep.”

  “Let me see.” She tapped her chin with the tip of one finger. “What do you do for a sex symbol who has everything?”

  “I don’t have everything.” He gave her a hot look from her head to her toes, letting her know that she was the only cowgirl he wanted in his life.

  “Oh.” She appeared as if a lightbulb had gone off in her head. “I’m wearing this lacy white bra. Would that interest you?”

  “Only because you’re wearing it.”

  “Do you want it for your collection?”

  “Only if I can take it off you in bed.”

  “Would that be the bed in your cowboy cabin?”

  “That’s the one.” He was getting hotter by the moment, knowing she was leading him exactly where he wanted to go.

  “If I was in your bed, you wouldn’t be all growly anymore?”

  “I’d be growly, all right, but in a totally different way.”

  “In that case, I can handle growly—from Mr. December.”

  “If there’re any more calendars to deliver, let’s dump them by the side of the road and head for Cougar Ranch.”

  “Dump them?” She sounded outraged even as she gave him a quick sideways look that spoke of hot, sweaty sheets.

  “Yeah. I’m in need of some tender loving care right this minute.”

  “Can you wait till we reach your cabin?”

  “Not unless you raise your shirt so I can see what kind of vintage you’re wearing underneath.” He didn’t really think she’d do it, but he was in the mood to flirt with her.

  “Dune! I’ve driving, and we’re on the road.”

  “But I’m needy.”

  “It’s a good thing that was our last stop, or you’d be even needier by the time we reached your cabin.”

  “Think I wouldn’t toss them?”

  “It doesn’t matter. There are only a couple of bundles left that we’ll make available during Christmas at the Sure-Shot Drive-In.”

  “So let me get this straight. We’re on our way to my cabin?”

  She gave him a quick glance with a smile quirking up the corners of her full lips. “That’s the plan.”

  “Good.” He leaned back in his seat, finally fully relaxing after his harrowing visit to the Sure-Shot Beauty Station.

  “But don’t think Mr. December gets to rest on his laurels. I expect him to show me just how hot he can make a very cold month of the year.”

  Dune didn’t even raise his head or reply. She could tease and torment to her heart’s content. He was about to get her where he’d wanted her since the first moment he’d seen her.

  As Sydney reached the turnoff to Cougar Ranch, her cell phone came alive, letting her know she had a text message.

  “Don’t read it or answer it.” He wasn’t about to let them get distracted by anything other than a fire-rescue emergency, and that wasn’t the station’s special ringtone.

  “Dune, please get my phone out of my purse.”

  “If I do, you know what’ll happen.”

  “I’m a mother, and I always answer my cell, because you just never know.”

  “Storm.” He felt like a jerk. Still, he wasn’t used to being available for a child, but he was willing to step up to this new learning curve. He pulled her phone out of her purse and checked the messages.

  “What does it say?”

  “It’s from Hedy.”

  “Anything wrong?”

  “Nope.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the news. “Looks as if she’s finally going to see Bert’s bluebirds, and she wants us to meet her there.”

  “I doubt if she’ll go alone,” Sydney said. “I bet everybody else is too busy to go with her. Will you text her that we’ll see her at Bert’s place?”

  “Yeah. I guess so.” He gave a big, loud sigh. Life was easier when he was just a lowly, lonely cowboy living at the ranch. But would he trade that life for this one? No way. He’d found the chili with jalapeños, and he would never be satisfied with mild chili again.

  “Thanks, Dune. I’ll make it up to you later.”

  He sent the text and replaced her phone in her purse. “If you think giving me a bluebird will do it, don’t bother.”

  “No bluebirds.” She tossed him a mischievous glance. “But if Mr. December is clever enough, I just might sing for him.”

  Chapter 31

  As Sydney turned her car around in front of the Cougar Ranch sign, she suddenly realized that she and Dune had come to a place where they were comfortable teasing each other and sharing private jokes. She hadn’t done that with a guy since—well, since Emery. And it made her happy.

  She wanted that type of happiness for Hedy. She’d do about anything to help her friend, who had given so much to their community. Bert deserved love, too. After everything she’d seen and heard about the fires, she was fast coming to the conclusion that Bert and Bert Two were not behind the arson on their properties. And yet she couldn’t imagine who could be so destructive and vindictive to them. She hoped Sheriff Calhoun would soon bring the guilty party to justice.

  She slowed down when she saw the silver double gates with “HF&R” in their centers. They were wide open for Hedy. On either side of the cattle guard rose a four-sided column with “Holloway Farm & Ranch” engraved into the pale sandstone. Blue-and-silver rope lights wound around each column with a large, blue bow on each flat top, obviously representing holiday packages waiting to be unwrapped on Christmas.

  She turned off Wildcat Road, crossed the cattle guard, and headed up the well-maintained black asphalt road. Red Angus cattle stood in clusters under the spreading limbs of green-leafed live oaks or grazed on what was left of summer grass now turned golden in the winter. Sunlight glinted on a large pond with green lily pads floating across its blue surface while a weeping willow cast a dark shadow across one corner of the water. In the distance, a large red barn and numerous outbuildings rose above the gently rolling prairie land. A breeze kicked up and brought the scent of dust, hay, and feed.

  “Nice place,” Dune said. “I’ve never been here before.”

  “The Holloways haven’t been much for parties or visitors, not since Bert lost his wife to cancer. Bert Two was close to his mom, so it hit him hard, too.”

  “That’s tough. I hope they’re doing better now.”

  “Yes, they are. I know it helped when Bert Two moved back home to support his dad. They’ve built a number of businesses together now.”

  “Good for them.”

  “And it says a lot that they’re reaching out to Hedy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe they’re ready to move on with life.”

  “Sometimes it takes a while to heal.”

  “Yes, it does.” She glanced over at him and caught the intense expression in his blue eyes. She nodded, figuring they were both thinking about themselves—and each other.

  As the lane wound upward, higher and higher, they passed a pasture that contained white-faced Herefords with deep red bodies. They weren’t as popular as they’d once been on ranches, although she still preferred the breed for looks and temperament. Black or red Angus was the current favorite among North American ranchers due to economics, because Angus cattle
matured quickly and put on weight easily.

  She wondered if Hedy was ahead of them or behind them. She hoped they were arriving about the same time, but she wouldn’t know until she reached the house.

  “Big spread, isn’t?”

  “Thousands of acres. It’s been in their family for generations in the way of most big ranches around here.”

  “It’s that way in the Hill Country, too, but some of the ranches are being broken up and sold for ranchettes nowadays—if you can imagine.”

  “I can. City folk want a low-maintenance country getaway.”

  “That translates to not much land or too many critters.”

  “Right. Ranches are hungry masters at the best of times.” She looked out over the vast and beautiful plain that extended as far as the eye could see. “Still, I wouldn’t change my life for the world.”

  He reached over and squeezed her hand on the steering wheel, then sat back against the bench seat. “We both love what we love, don’t we?”

  She gave him a quick glance, caught the look in his eyes that meant he was thinking about more than ranches, and refocused on the road. “Love can sometimes catch us unaware, can’t it?”

  “If we’re lucky, it sure can.” He turned to her with a big grin. “Mr. December is still planning to get lucky later.”

  She laughed, feeling relieved that he’d broken up the seriousness of the moment, since they were almost at the house. “If the beauty shop is any indication, I’d say Mr. December is the definition of lucky.”

  “But only if lucky’s name is Sydney.”

  She felt his words wash over her as if she’d taken a quick dip in a hot tub, refreshing and stimulating at the same time. Somehow, he always knew the right thing to say to draw her into the world they were creating between them. She started to respond when she saw Hedy’s van stopped on the lane in front of them.

  “She’s waiting for us,” Dune said. “Do you suppose she feels uneasy without friends nearby?”