Christmas Gifts: Small Town ChristmasHer Christmas Cowboy

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  “Yeah, I won’t miss your throat swelling shut. We saved some decorations for you.”

  “Thank you.” She reached up, resting her hand on his cheek.

  He didn’t know what to say. He covered her hand with his and moved to kiss her palm. “I have to go.”

  “Of course.”

  The words cut into him and he didn’t know why or exactly what she meant by them. He knew that he needed to get fresh air and think about this woman and how quickly she’d turned his life upside down. He needed to get a serious hold on reality because she didn’t seem real.

  “I’ll let Mom know that you’re awake. I’m going out to the barn.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ll go find everyone.” She sat up, putting bare feet on the rug next to the sofa. Her brown eyes were liquid caramel in a pale face.

  “You should rest.”

  “I’ve been resting.” She stood up, leaning a little. “I’m fine.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

  He looked back as he walked out the front door. Elizabeth had knelt and was talking to his nieces and nephews. They were showing her the baby Jesus and the star. They explained the angels and the shepherds. They pointed to the cross.

  He walked out the front door and inhaled a deep breath of cold, Oklahoma air. He stood on the front porch and stared out at the field. The horses grazed in a close group, tails to the north, against the wind. What he’d like right now is to saddle his horse and go for a long ride.

  Instead he headed for the barn and evening chores.

  As he walked, the shepherd mix they’d had for about five years trotted up to his side. The dog barked and grabbed Travis’s wrist. “Mooch, you have to stop doing that. You’ll scare the city girl.”

  Mooch barked again and ran ahead of him to track something in the thick grass around the barn. Probably just a mouse. And the dog didn’t stand a chance of actually tracking it down. Travis had come to the conclusion that the dog had no sense of smell. It had been sprayed by a skunk more than once. That didn’t happen to a smart dog.

  “Hey, you going to feed the cattle?” His dad walked out the side door of the barn. The double doors were closed against the cold north wind. They kept very few horses inside. Most were on pasture and had a shelter for bad weather. There were two studs and a couple of mares that they kept up. The stallions had runs with tall reinforced fencing. The mares were close to foaling and were kept in the corral during the day and inside at night.

  They were careful with new foals at the Cooper Creek Ranch. Those babies were worth a lot of money.

  “Yeah, I can feed. Is the truck parked out back?” Travis grabbed keys off a hook inside the barn.

  “It is. I already loaded feed and there’s a bale of hay on the spike.”

  “Gotcha.”

  His dad walked up, hat low over eyes that saw too much sometimes. Tim Cooper had lived a lot of life; he’d made mistakes and he’d made things right. Travis had nothing but respect for his dad. Biological or not, that’s what Tim Cooper was to him, a dad.

  “If you need to talk, I’m here.” Tim pulled a pack of gum out of his pocket and offered Travis a stick.

  “I’m good.”

  “I know you are. But I also know that look. I haven’t seen it in you before, but I’ve seen it in Blake once. And in Lucky. Even Jeremy had that look.”

  “What look would that be, sir?”

  Tim slapped him on the back. “You look like a man that’s been bit.”

  “Nope, not that I know of. But I’m going to get those cattle fed so I can get to practice at Back Street.”

  “You can’t run from it, Travis. You can get away by yourself and think, but you’re going to have to deal with this.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Deal with it. Yeah, he’d do that. He’d find a way to deal with a woman who had landed in his life, tied his heart up in knots and before would long hightail it out of Dawson. Which should be fine with him. He’d never lasted more than a few weeks in a relationship. And he’d tried. A year or so ago he’d tried real hard to make himself want to stay in a relationship with a woman from Tulsa.

  Because he wanted to be married. He wanted kids and he wanted his own family traditions.

  He started the flatbed farm truck, shifted into First and headed out through the field. Even though the temperature had dropped, he lowered the window. The dog barked and ran after the truck.

  “In the back, Mooch.”

  Mooch slowed, circled and jumped on the back of the truck. Travis looked in the rearview mirror and watched the dog balance on the bags of feed.

  Out here, alone, it was a lot easier to get his head on straight. Out here he could get his thoughts together. He breathed in. The air carried the scent of wet grass and snow.

  Yeah, out here he could pray, really pray. That’s what he did when he fed the cattle. He prayed as he dropped the bale of hay. He prayed as the cattle followed him to the feed trough. He had meant to flirt with Elizabeth, the way he always flirted. He figured she’d either brush him off or flirt back. He figured she’d be gone in a day or two, back to her life in St. Louis. No harm, no foul.

  He hadn’t expected to want to help her find faith. He really hadn’t expected the strange tightening in his heart. It had started when she put on that Mrs. Claus costume. And he’d never believed in Santa. Living the first five years of his life in an orphanage, Santa hadn’t been a part of his childhood.

  He stopped at the feed trough, followed by a few dozen head of cattle. Mooch pushed the cattle back, barking and nipping at hooves as Travis poured grain in the trough. He stepped back and whistled. The dog turned and sat down next to him.

  “Yeah, buddy, I couldn’t imagine living anywhere but here.”

  Mooch, as if he really knew what Travis had said, barked a few times. Travis ruffled the fur at the dog’s neck.

  He whistled again and Mooch hopped in the open door of the truck and sat on the passenger side, tongue hanging out, lapping up the cold air from the open window.

  Travis shook his head and got in the truck. “I can’t say that I have any answers, Mooch. But I have one thing figured out. This isn’t going to be easy.”

  Mooch looked at him, dark eyes all serious, like he really got it.

  “Yeah, buddy, I remember that collie of Beth’s showing up here. You were kind of in love, too, weren’t you?”

  He stopped the truck. Yeah, he’d just said love. He whistled long and low and shook his head. So this is what it felt like. No wonder people got a little crazy when it happened.

  Elizabeth had ridden to Back Street with Heather. The two of them had helped get the cast for the living nativity into their costumes and then Heather had hurried off to the stable, where she had a part as a shepherd. They’d asked Elizabeth to put on a costume and join them. She’d explained that she couldn’t. What if she had to go back to St. Louis?

  As the cast went through the rehearsal, complete with Mary on a donkey and shepherds watching sheep, Elizabeth moved toward the stable so she could watch.

  Even though she didn’t mean to search for him, she found herself looking for Travis. He’d showed up just moments before the practice, late as usual. That’s what Heather had called out to him as he hurried into the building to put on his costume.

  Mary and Joseph had entered the inn. They would be turned away, of course, because there was no room in the inn. Elizabeth knew the story. She’d heard it. She’d probably read it a long time ago. Once upon a time her family had gone to a large church in St. Louis, before Harden Industries had grown to the point that it required more traveling and caused her father to work longer and longer hours.

  Once upon a time she remembered being a child who sat on her father’s lap, listening to him read the Christmas story.

  She couldn’t remember when they’d stopped that tradition. Had it meant more to her parents than a mere tradition or had it only been something that was easy to let go of?

  Mary and Jos
eph left the inn, unable to find a room. She wondered why God couldn’t have allowed the child to be born in a building, a real home. Instead Mary moved on to the stable, surrounded by animals.

  Elizabeth stepped close, watching as Mary and Joseph made a place for themselves in the straw, surrounded by animals. God became man, someone spoke. She shivered at the words and watched as Mary put her newborn baby in the manger. For God so loved the world He gave His only son.

  She could hear the words from her past, trickling back into her mind.

  The shepherds watched over their sheep. One of the shepherds was Heather. She moved easily in her gray robe, keeping the lambs together. And suddenly a bright light shone round about and there was a multitude of the heavenly host—in costume—praising God and saying, Glory to God in the highest and on earth, peace, good will to men. For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a savior who is Christ the Lord.

  And this shall be a sign unto you…

  Elizabeth turned and there, lying in the manger was the baby Jesus.

  She pulled her coat a little tighter as the chill swept down her spine. For a moment she’d gotten lost in the pageant, almost felt as if she were there, in Bethlehem. A hand touched her arm. She jumped a little and turned, looking up in the blue-green eyes of Travis he watched next to her.

  “This is the part I love,” Travis whispered close to her ear. “I love when the shepherds, just quiet, humble men, are brought to the throne of God.”

  “To the stable, you mean.”

  “But look at where they are—the birthplace of a savior. We bow down and worship, at the feet of Jesus. Have you heard the song?”

  She shook her head. She hadn’t.

  “These humble shepherds are bowing down at the feet of Jesus. They’re humbled and in awe. Think about those angels appearing in the sky that night. I don’t know, but I think I would have been so afraid, I wouldn’t have been able to move. And when I finally did, I would have wanted to get to this spot, this stable, as quickly as possible.”

  “I remember my dad reading the Christmas story. And then we let go of those times and our lives became complicated, full of places to go and things to do.”

  “That happens. But remember, it isn’t about the tree.”

  She smiled through her tears, remembering what Angie Cooper had said about the tree not being the reason they celebrate. The tree was part of tradition, but the celebration is about Jesus.

  A light flashed in the night and the star lit up, illuminating the place where the baby Jesus slept.

  “I’ve never…” She choked on the words.

  His arm slid around her and he pulled her close to his side.

  “It’s okay.” He kissed the side of her head and she nodded, and then she walked away.

  She didn’t know how to find her way to that baby, to the stable or that star. How did it become more than tradition? How did it become real, the way it seemed so real to the Coopers?

  A thought whispered into her heart. Just ask. Ask God to make it real in her heart, in her life. Could it be that simple?

  Angie Cooper looked up when Elizabeth walked down the steps and into the kitchen. She opened a bag of cookies and arranged them on a tray.

  “Can I help you?” Elizabeth went to the sink and washed her hands. When she turned, Angie handed her a cup of coffee.

  “I wondered the same thing, honey. Can I help you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Mascara. It’s always a dead giveaway.” Angie handed her a napkin.

  “I’m sorry. You know, I’m not usually like this.”

  “You don’t have to explain. And you can help me. I’m going to start pouring cherry punch in those paper cups. You can do that for me.”

  Elizabeth picked up the pitcher of red liquid and started filling the cups. “I’m curious about something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I think I’ve always considered myself a Christian. But I don’t really know.”

  Angie put down the container of cookies and took the pitcher from Elizabeth. And then she hugged her tight.

  “Elizabeth, it’s about what’s in your heart. It’s about what you know is true and accepting it as the truth.”

  The two of them stood in the quiet of the kitchen and Angie Cooper explained the truth about faith to Elizabeth, and when the cast and crew of the nativity came down the stairs thirty minutes later, the two of them were still crying as they ate cookies and drank coffee.

  Angie walked away from her when Travis approached. He looked her over, as if he thought maybe she’d been hurt. But she hadn’t been hurt. Maybe, for the first time in her life, she’d been made whole. She explained that to him and he pulled her into his arms.

  The room grew strangely quiet as he lowered his lips to claim hers in the sweetest kiss ever. In the last hour her life had changed, taken new and startling turns. Those changes included a changed heart that was pieced back together.

  Thirty minutes later it unraveled as she walked to the closet to retrieve her coat and over heard a conversation about herself and Travis.

  Voices floated from a back room, saying Travis would break her heart because she looked like someone wanting a wedding ring and Travis had never been a long-term kind of guy.

  People talked. She knew not to listen. But maybe she needed a reminder that just weeks ago she’d been planning her wedding.

  Another broken heart was the last thing she needed for Christmas.

  Chapter Nine

  Travis woke up feeling pretty great. That’s why he hurried through his chores, including watching a new foal come into the world, and then made his way up to the main house. He had a list of things to get done and he figured it would make Elizabeth pretty happy to know that he planned on buying gifts for the kids.

  “Hey, where is everyone?” He walked through the house, smelling coffee but not hearing a sound. “Mom?”

  “In here.” She walked out of the office, not smiling.

  “Where’s Elizabeth?”

  His mom sighed and pointed into the office. It was empty, so she obviously wanted him to sit down. This was the part where she gave him the bad news. It would have been nice to feel a little dread when he woke up, a little warning of impending doom. Instead he’d whistled like everything was going his way.

  “I don’t have time for long talks or to sit down. I have a long list for the Samaritan House and a longer list for the community center. I’m a big boy. Shoot straight from the hip.”

  “She left this morning. Blake was heading into Tulsa and she needed to get a flight back to St. Louis. Something happened with their business and she was the only one available to take care of it.”

  Two nights ago he’d held her after she’d found faith. Last night they’d gone to the Mad Cow and he’d kissed her good-night. Today she had left without saying goodbye. Maybe this time he’d been the one who thought they’d had something that wasn’t there.

  “Is she coming back?”

  “To be honest, I don’t think she is.”

  “Good to know.” He started down the hall toward the kitchen. His mom caught up with him, her hand reaching for his arm.

  “Travis, it’s okay to hurt.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it doesn’t matter. She’s just someone I’ve known for a week, nothing more.” Obviously. “She has a home and a life in St. Louis.”

  His mom’s hand rested on his shoulder. “I know. And I know that sometimes when you’re hurt, you pretend you aren’t. I don’t know if this will help, but she was hurting, too.”

  “Yeah, there’s not a lot I can do about that.”

  “Isn’t there?”

  “No, there isn’t.” He sipped his coffee and waited for the right words. He didn’t know if there were any. “I’m not going to be the next guy to hurt her.”

  “Did you ever stop to think that you might be the one who wouldn’t hurt he
r?” His mom, she always thought the best of her brood. He hugged her and then he walked away.

  “Mom, I wish we could all believe in ourselves the way you believe in us.”

  “Maybe I see who God meant for you to be.”

  He stopped at the door and smiled at her. “Thanks for wanting a kid from Russia.”

  “I love you, Trav.”

  “Me, too, Mom. I’m going on into Tulsa. I’m going to get this shopping done and then I’ll stay a few days and play Santa on Friday before Christmas.”

  “Trav, think about going after her. If she’s the person you think might be the one, then don’t let her get away. Let her know that you can be the man she needs you to be.”

  “What if I can’t?”

  “You already are.”

  Right, he was that man. If he was, he needed to convince Elizabeth Harden of that fact. But he had other priorities this close to Christmas. He had a list of items for kids in Dawson and a list for the kids at Samaritan House.

  While he took care of his lists, he would think about how to bring Elizabeth back to Dawson for Christmas.

  Back to him.

  Elizabeth stood in the center of her apartment, trying hard not to think about unopened gifts, the wedding dress hanging in her closet. And the man she’d left in Dawson.

  She’d stopped thinking about the man who’d left her.

  Because he’d never been hers. Richard had never been in her heart, the person she couldn’t imagine living without.

  And she realized now that when he told her they were over, that there wasn’t going to be a wedding, she’d been hurt, really hurt by his betrayal. She’d also been relieved and felt guilty about that emotion. By walking away he’d saved her from a future with a husband who didn’t really love her, who wouldn’t be faithful.

  He’d saved her from marrying a man she didn’t love.

  So what did she have? An apartment full of wedding gifts that would have to be returned, an answering machine with messages from people asking if she’d made it home, did she want to attend a Christmas party, and saying how sorry they were about what happened.

  She pushed the button and erased them all. On the way home from the airport she’d picked up a half gallon of butter pecan ice cream. She planned to eat the entire thing and try to figure out why she’d left Dawson.