A Cowboy's Christmas Proposal

by Cathy McDavid

  “Craft-Right’s looking to hire my replacement. I’m sure Old Man Hickman would love to talk to you. You should give him a call.”

  “Appreciate the suggestion, but I don’t want to be on the road that much.”

  “The way I heard it,” Arnie said, “they’re changing the job to more office based and less traveling.”

  “How much less?”

  “Two days a week max.”

  Though not the largest company out there, Craft-Right Portable Horse Stalls had a good reputation and manufactured a superior product. And two days a week traveling was doable.

  “Would I be stepping on anyone’s toes?”

  “If you’re asking, are they promoting from within, the answer is no.”

  The job was starting to sound interesting, even if it wasn’t exactly what Owen wanted. “I’ll call him. Thanks.”

  Willa had fallen asleep in her car seat, but Cody and Marisa were eager to get back to the cabin and play with their new “toy.”

  Owen hitched his thumb at the truck. “These three have had their fill. I’d best hit the road.”

  “And I’m late for my appointment with Fred. I hope for the sake of my replacement whoever he sells this store to is as easy to work with as him.”

  “Nice seeing you, Arnie.”

  The kitten meowed the entire ride home, making a racket too loud to come from such a tiny creature. At the cabin, Owen carried Willa inside and lay her down in her crib. Careful not to wake her, he removed her jacket. After helping him with the litter box and food dish, Marisa and Cody watched the kitten’s every move until it collapsed from exhaustion in a corner of the couch.

  Marisa fell asleep, too, curled up next to the kitten, while Cody watched one of the movies from the library.

  Sitting at the small dining table, Owen pulled out his phone. Happy to find he still had Craft-Right’s phone number in his contacts, he placed a call.

  Arnie had been right, Monty Hickman was glad to hear from Owen. He came right out and mentioned the job opening without Owen having to casually work it into the conversation.

  By the time he disconnected, Owen was feeling pretty darn good. His kids were content, and he had an interview lined up for a week from tomorrow.

  * * *

  MOLLY CARRIED ON an internal conversation with herself during the walk to Owen’s cabin. She could call him, there was no reason to disturb him and the kids. They were likely busy, given she’d hardly seen hide nor hair of them since the carriage ride yesterday morning.

  Instead, she was delivering the message in person. Why?

  To see him, whispered the small voice inside her.

  No, she countered. She’d opted for a face to face because...because... Oh, heck, just because.

  At the cabin door, she hesitated, slightly embarrassed when the guests in the next-door cabin suddenly emerged and headed toward their car. She smiled and waved as if seeking out Owen was no big deal. After all, she was acting ranch manager and he an employee. Naturally they spoke.

  Lifting her hand, she rapped loudly. When Owen didn’t immediately answer, she looked for his truck. Yes, it was parked in its usual place. He and the kids weren’t at the clubhouse playing Ping-Pong—she’d have seen them on the way here. It was possible they’d taken a short hike on the nearby trails or gone next door to Powell Ranch.

  She rapped a second time and leaned her ear toward the door. No, not her imagination. Noises were coming from inside the cabin. Muffled voices and footsteps and a door closing. Another game of hide and seek?

  Feeling stupid, she turned and started to leave. He obviously didn’t want to talk to her. And he’d know it was her if he bothered to look through the peephole. Just when her foot reached the edge of the stoop the door abruptly opened.

  “Hi. Sorry about that.” Owen glanced behind him. “Had a little situation with the kids to handle first.”

  She swung around, took one look at him and stopped. “It must have been some situation.”

  Owen appeared mildly flustered, something out of the ordinary for him.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Fine. What’s up?” He stood in the middle of the open door as if to prevent her from entering.

  “I wanted to tell you about a change in our schedule this week. We have a last-minute wedding tomorrow evening at seven.”

  “Okay.”

  “Did you make other plans?”

  “Nope.”

  What was with the short answers?

  “I spoke to Nora already,” Molly said. “She’ll watch the kids. And the couple will be emailing their vows later today.”

  “Got it.”

  “They’re friends with the Herrerras.” When he didn’t react, she explained, “The army vet with burn scars, you remember her? In this case, the groom is shipping out two days after Christmas. He and the bride want to get married before he does. They’d like something more intimate and personal than the courthouse downtown. I said we can accommodate them.”

  Owen nodded. “Sounds good. That it?”

  Molly tried to peer around him. Clearly, he didn’t want her here. But why?

  “Where are the children?” She swore he moved slightly to block her view.

  “In the bedroom. Playing.”

  “Hmm.” Molly strained to hear. Voices and footsteps continued emanating from farther inside the cabin but nothing out of the ordinary for three youngsters. “We’re having a quick run-through at four today. Just us, the couple won’t be here. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “Not at all.”

  “If it is, you can bring the kids to the house. Bridget’s experimenting with a new pumpkin bread recipe. She’ll keep an eye on them until Nora arrives.”

  “We’ll see.”

  More abrupt responses. “Owen, did I say or do something yesterday to upset you? Because if I did, we can talk about it.”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  “You seem distracted.”

  “There is something I want to discuss with you, now that you mention it.”

  At a loud noise from the bedroom, Owen momentarily froze. When nothing came of it, he returned his attention to Molly.

  “Is it about work?” she prompted, admittedly curious.

  “Kind of.”

  “Did you find a job?” What if he was giving his notice and leaving the ranch in a bind? That might explain his distraction.

  “No. Though I have an interview next Tuesday with Craft-Right Portable Horse Stalls.”

  “Congratulations!”

  “I ran into a buddy of mine outside of the feed store yesterday. He told me about the job opening. I called the president of the company. He remembered me. Luckily, favorably.”

  “I’m glad for you.”

  “The pay isn’t quite what I’m used to. On the other hand, the location is great. Plenty close to the kids. And there’s potential to advance.”

  “Well, good luck, though I’m sure you’ll breeze through the interview.”

  “Craft-Right’s office isn’t too far from Mustang Valley.” He grinned, and for the first time since opening the door, he looked like his usual self. “We can see each other.”

  “Um...”

  “Could be a chance for us to test the waters.”

  “Maybe. Let’s see. We have Grandma and Homer’s vow renewal and party on January first. And February will be crazy busy, what with Valentine’s Day. We have three weddings scheduled already that day and I expect more. Not sure I can squeeze in dating.”

  “You’re stalling.”

  “I’m listening to reason.” And to her head. “I came to Mustang Valley to get my life together—which was a mess after losing another job and my fiancé walking out three days before our wedding—and to help my grandmother with her new and demanding
business. You came here to bond with your children, become a better, more attentive father and to find a job. Dating isn’t conducive to any of those things.”

  “If I’m employed, that’s one less obstacle. And your grandmother will be home in two-and-a-half weeks. You’ll have help. Another obstacle gone.”

  “I don’t disagree, but there are still other things to consider.”

  Shouting erupted from behind the closed bedroom door, and Owen muttered, “I should check on the kids.”

  Yes, Molly concurred, he should. “I’ll see you later at the run-through.”

  Before she could say goodbye, the bedroom door exploded open, issuing an earsplitting bang as it hit the wall. Unable to help herself, Molly cringed. The next second, Owen’s three children spilled into the living room, arms and legs flying.

  “Daddy, Daddy,” Marisa hollered, “Pinkie Pie is stuck.”

  “She climbed the curtain,” Cody added as they came to a stop behind Owen. “All the way to the top.”

  Willa plopped to the floor, thumb in her mouth, eyes forlorn.

  “She’s going to die,” Marisa wailed.

  “I’ll be right there,” Owen said firmly. “Now get back to the room and shut the door.”

  Molly didn’t move. Something wasn’t right, and who the heck was Pinkie Pie?

  Marisa and Cody returned to the bedroom, their feet dragging. Willa disobeyed Owen completely and toddled toward him, wrapping her arms around his legs.

  “Daddy, Daddy! Kitty hurt.”

  Kitty? Molly drew back. “Owen, who is Pinkie Pie? Or should I ask what?”

  “Pinkie Pie is a kitten,” he answered slowly. “An early Christmas present for the kids. That’s what I was going to talk to you about.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “We stopped at the feed store yesterday and a girl was selling the kittens. The kids went nuts over them, and I saw a good opportunity to teach them about responsibility. They’re going to earn food and supplies for the kitten by performing chores.”

  Molly stood there, dumbstruck. “Pets aren’t allowed at the ranch.”

  “We won’t let her outside. She can stay in the cabin, and if there’s any damage I’ll pay for it.”

  “That’s not the problem. You should have spoken to me first.”

  “I honestly didn’t think you’d mind.”

  Was he actually surprised at her reaction? “I don’t mind the kitten. What I do mind and very much is that you took advantage of our relationship and my fondness for your children.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Then you took advantage of your job here and the fact that we can’t operate without a wedding officiator. Or maybe it was my grandmother’s relationship with your uncle. Choose whichever one you like, Owen.”

  He actually appeared confused and then grim. “If you want, I can take the kitten back.”

  “Right. And make me the bad guy. Your children will hate me. That’s hardly fair when you’re the one in the wrong.”

  “Can we please discuss this?”

  His complete lack of consideration for her feelings and for her position at the ranch hurt. Whatever he argued to the contrary, it remained he had broken the rules and disrespected her. Disrespected her entire family.

  The next second, Cody and Marisa came barreling out of the bedroom.

  “Pinkie Pie climbed down from the curtains,” Cody said in a rush, “but then she ran under the bed.”

  “Help us get her, Daddy,” Marisa begged.

  “What do you want me to do, Molly?” Owen asked. “How can I make this right?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

  Her anger at him was justified, she told herself on the return walk to the house. Owen could have handled the situation much better. Instead, he’d leaped without looking first and justified his actions based on good intentions.

  Was what had happened a preview of their potential relationship? If so, better she found out before they went any further.

  CHAPTER TEN

  OWEN STOOD TO the side and watched the exchange between Molly and Bridget and the newlyweds and their two witnesses.

  “Best wishes and good luck to you.”

  “Thank you for your service. We’re honored to have hosted your wedding.”

  “We can’t tell you how wonderful it was.”

  The small wedding had gone smoothly. Owen had stuck to a mostly traditional ceremony with the couple reciting their own vows.

  With the groom in uniform and the bride wearing flowers in her hair, the service had been sweet and heartfelt and very moving. Everyone there knew the groom would be shipping out soon for his overseas tour. The couple talked excitedly about him returning in the spring for leave, with no one mentioning the possibility that he might not return in one piece or at all.

  They were spending the night in a cabin, a gift from the groom’s out-of-state parents. From talking to the couple after the ceremony, Owen had gathered they didn’t have a lot of money, and the honeymoon stay was a real treat for them.

  Molly and Bridget must have decided the same thing for Bridget had provided her specialty wedding cupcakes at no charge and Molly had arranged for champagne and fresh strawberries to be delivered to the cabin.

  Not much, Owen mused. Cupcakes, champagne and strawberries. But the gestures would likely be treasured memories that lasted the couple’s lifetime. Hopefully, a long lifetime.

  Molly and her sister clearly belonged in the wedding business, because their hearts were truly in the right place. Their grandmother must have known that when she’d put them in charge while she was gone.

  As Owen watched, Molly escorted the couple from the parlor to the foyer where she took several more pictures of them kissing beneath the mistletoe. She’d taken pictures throughout the ceremony—the couple couldn’t afford a photographer. Though it was chilly outside, she continued to stand on the veranda chatting with them.

  “Good heavens, she must be freezing!” Bridget appeared beside Owen.

  “Maybe I should bring her a coat.” He’d rather put his arms around her.

  “Not a good idea.” Bridget wore a bemused expression.

  “I’m guessing you heard.”

  “About your stowaway? Yes, indeed.” She tsked, though with a hint of mirth that made him think she wasn’t mad about the kitten. “Owen, Owen, Owen. What are we going to do with you?”

  “I blew it. I get that.”

  “Have you always been such a rule breaker?”

  “Not exactly. More like a risk taker.” Another trait that had helped propel him to the top of his rodeo and sales careers. “With a spontaneous streak.”

  “Yeah, Molly’s the polar opposite of spontaneous.”

  “So I’m discovering.”

  “She wasn’t always like that,” Bridget said. “Dad dying when we were young affected her. Affected all of us, Mom included. Just look at her and Doug. A marriage not made in heaven because Mom dreads being alone.”

  “Tragedy changes people.”

  “Molly became a stickler for rules. They make her feel in control and give her a sense of security. Something she didn’t feel after Dad died.”

  They stood adjacent to the reception counter in a shadowy corner of the foyer. Owen had chosen the spot because he didn’t want Molly to see him staring at her.

  “If I could go back in time,” he said, “I’d have...”

  “Not taken the kitten?” Bridget prompted.

  “Called Molly first. Or waited to get the kids a kitten until after leaving Sweetheart Ranch.”

  A thought occurred to him. Was he trying to compete with Jeanne? Was that why he’d agreed to get the kitten? Owen didn’t like thinking the answer might be yes.

  “I told Molly I’d see if t
he girl who sold us Pinkie Pie could take her back.”

  “I doubt that’ll be necessary,” Bridget said. “Molly understands why you got the kitten, even if she won’t admit it. She’ll probably allow you to keep it, but let her be the one to tell you. Don’t ask or start with the hard-core sales pitch.”

  “Do I do that?”

  “Sometimes. It’s your nature. This is one of those times you need to curb it.”

  Owen had believed he could convince Molly. That had been presumptuous of him. Heck, it had been selfish of him.

  He really did wish he could go back in time to the previous day. He wouldn’t call Molly. He’d have told his children no and dealt with the crying and the whining and the pouting. Being a parent meant having to take the path of more resistance.

  “I’m off to clean the parlor,” Bridget announced before slipping away. “Tell Molly there’s very little mess, and she doesn’t have to help me.”

  He waited in the corner, not moving. Molly remained on the veranda, waving goodbye until the witnesses were heading down the driveway and the newlyweds had left for their cabin. By the time she came inside, she was clutching her middle and shivering from head to toe.

  Reaching for the switch, she shut off the overhead light. The only remaining illumination in the foyer came from the Christmas tree. The one he’d gone with her to purchase back when they weren’t at odds. When he hadn’t let her down and disappointed her.

  “Molly. Do you have a minute?”

  She hesitated, seeming to compose herself. “I thought you’d left already.”

  “Any chance we can have that talk?”

  She nodded.

  “I owe you an apology. You were right. I took advantage of you and my job here. I wish I could tell you that’s not like me, except it is. I’m used to being in charge. At work and in my personal life. That can be an asset in the right circumstances and a detriment in the wrong ones. Yesterday was a mistake.”

  “You can keep the kitten,” Molly said without emotion.

  “That’s much more than I deserve.”

  “I’m not saying yes for you. I won’t break the children’s hearts.”

  He definitely had that coming.