A Cowboy for Christmas

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A Cowboy for Christmas Page 11

by Cat Johnson


  “I’ve been tasting things all day. I don’t need to eat.”

  He screwed up his mouth. “Then just sit there and pick. Don’t you want to see me enjoying your cooking?”

  “Come to think of it, I better sit. Have to make sure you don’t stuff yourself or the doctor will be hollering next time he tests your cholesterol.”

  It was a dance the two had every year on Thanksgiving. Christmas too. Mrs. Jones, a widow, was always here cooking for the ranch on the holidays. Jake would always ask her to join them. They’d banter back and forth about it for a little while until finally Mrs. Jones went to the kitchen and got herself a place setting. Bonner wouldn’t know what to do if they didn’t stick to the tradition, it had been going on for so long.

  He had always found Thanksgivings at the Maverick ranch interesting. Who would be at the table was usually up for grabs. Some years there were cowboys in town for one thing or another, far from home and alone. The old man would always include them in the meal if they had nowhere else to go. Some years, though not often, members of the Maverick family would be there—Jake’s grandson or granddaughter and more recently their spouses and kids. And some years, like this year, it was just him and the old man.

  “Where’d Justus and Dakota head off to again?” Jake reached for the bowl of mashed potatoes.

  “Colorado Springs. Some Thanksgiving rodeo school.” Bonner stabbed a turkey leg with his fork and pulled it onto his plate.

  “Ah, that’s right.” With a glance at the door, the old man scooped a second heaping spoonful of buttery potatoes onto his plate.

  Bonner hid his smile. It was probably the thrill of getting away with something that drove Jake, more than his love of foods he wasn’t supposed to eat. “Family couldn’t make it out this year?”

  “Nah. There’s always something going on with the kids that keep them from traveling. Recitals. Sports.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t like that back in my day.”

  “Wasn’t like that in my day either.” Bonner laughed.

  Mrs. Jones returned, plate, napkin, knife and fork in hand. “Well it’s a damn shame, if you ask me. Family should be together on Thanksgiving.”

  Bonner let out a sigh as guilt struck him.

  “Stop looking like a sad puppy. I wasn’t talking about you, Bonner. Your mother moved away from you. You didn’t move away from her.”

  “How is your mom?” Jake glanced at Bonner, before his attention was drawn back to the casserole filled with stuffing.

  “She’s doing good. I called her this morning. She says it’s beautiful and sunny in Florida and she and her boyfriend are going to have dinner at the restaurant on the golf course.” Bonner shrugged.

  He couldn’t feel badly about that. His father had died years before and much too young. He was happy his mother could find someone to spend her later years with. But that didn’t mean he could pick up and leave the farm to fly to Florida and stay in her condo on the golf course on holidays. He had a life and a job here. He had family here too, blood or not. He glanced at Jake and Mrs. Jones. “Everything is great, Mrs. Jones.”

  She dismissed the compliment with a wave of her hand. “You say that all the time.”

  “Because it’s true all the time.” Bonner smiled.

  “So tomorrow is Maverick Western’s first Black Friday Promotion.”

  Jake’s announcement had Bonner frowning and laughing at the same time. “Congratulations. Now what’s that mean?”

  “It means our girl Miss Casey has been busy during her first month with us and tomorrow, we’ll see if it pays off.”

  The mention of Casey had Bonner paying more attention. His heart rate sped faster. He’d asked Jake about her and how she was doing in the new job a few times, until he decided he was starting to appear too interested in her. “Then I hope it does.”

  “Oh, that reminds me. She wants you and the boys to start taking pictures of what you’re doing every day. She wants you to tweet them.” The old man laughed so hard after making that announcement he began to cough.

  Bonner halted the motion of his fork halfway to his mouth. “Tweet them?”

  “Yup. She says she’ll send a memo with all the information.” Jake focused completely on his food, making Bonner think Jake didn’t know how the hell to tweet any more than he did.

  Meanwhile, Bonner had to stifle a groan at the word memo. It had been where he’d first seen Casey’s name written only a month ago. Little did he know then she’d have such an effect on him. That he’d still be thinking about her now.

  Mrs. Jones shook her head. “You two men. I swear. Still stuck in the last century. Twitter is where you can post what you’re doing on the internet so everyone in the world can see.”

  “Why would everyone in the world care what I’m doing everyday?” Bonner’s frown deepened.

  She shrugged. “Beats me, but it seems millions of people are doing it.”

  “How do you know all this stuff?” Jake stared at Mrs. Jones.

  “They were talking about it on some talk show I had on while I was polishing the silver.”

  “We have silver?” The old man frowned.

  “What do you think you’re eating off of right now? I always bring it out on holidays.”

  Jake looked down at the fork in his hand. “Hm.”

  She shook her head again. “Not sure why I bother.”

  Bonner smiled. “I noticed the silver, Mrs. Jones. It’s very nice…and shiny.”

  “Thank you, Blue.” After delivering a sweet smile to Bonner, she sent a nasty look at Jake.

  “Kiss ass.” Jake spoke the words beneath his breath in Bonner’s general direction before he pushed his plate away from him. “Wow. I’m stuffed. What’s for dessert?”

  “If you’re stuffed, why do you wanna know about dessert?” Mrs. Jones cocked one eyebrow at the old man.

  “Because for today, you can’t yell at me for having some so I’m eating it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Pumpkin Pie.”

  “Homemade?”

  “Of course, homemade. When have I ever in all the years I’ve worked here fed you store bought pie?”

  “Just checking.” Jake pushed his chair back from the table. “After we help carry this back into the kitchen, wanna watch some football until dessert’s ready?”

  “Sounds good.” Bonner stood. He’d been considering seconds on the turkey and potatoes, but since there was Mrs. Jones’s pumpkin pie, hopefully with fresh whipped cream, he’d save room.

  The old man surprised him by slapping him on the back and pulling him into a one-armed hug. “Glad you’re here, son.”

  Bonner hid his surprise at the old man’s sudden show of affection. “Nowhere I’d rather be.”

  He nodded. “Me either. Cut from the same piece of leather, me and you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jake’s familiar saying brought Bonner right back to that day with Casey when he’d said those very words about Dakota and Justus and she’d started to take notes.

  Damn. Nothing was safe anymore. Even the littlest things triggered a memory of her and, hard as he tried, he couldn’t hold them back. Should he contact her? Wait for her to come back to the ranch for work? Go out and find a woman to take his mind off her? That last idea left him cold.

  He sighed. One day he was going to have to figure out what to do about it, but not today. Today was for food and family—even if they weren’t blood—and football.

  Bonner picked up the turkey platter, still heavily laden with the carcass, and turned toward the kitchen. They’d be eating good on leftovers tomorrow—if the old man didn’t eat them all up tonight after Mrs. Jones went to bed.

  Jake picked up the bowl of potatoes and then put it back down, grabbing the edge of the table and leaning heavily.

  Bonner paused near the kitchen doorway. “You all right?”

  “Yeah. Fine. Just got indigestion from all that food is all.”

  “Told you not to eat too much.” Mrs. Jones’s
voice came from inside the kitchen.

  “Ears like a hawk that one.” Jake rubbed his chest.

  “You go and sit and find the game on TV. I’ll finish cleaning up here and meet you in there.” Bonner knew something was not quite right with the old man when he gave in without an argument and headed for the TV room. He’d keep an eye on him tonight, then tomorrow, if he didn’t feel better, they could call the doctor.

  Satisfied with that plan, Bonner turned toward the kitchen door.

  * * * *

  “You can’t stay home alone and work. It’s Thanksgiving.”

  “Yes, Jody. I know. I figured that out when I turned on the television and saw all those giant balloons floating down 34th Street.” Casey put her laptop down on the coffee table in front of the sofa and pulled her legs up beneath the hem of Bonner’s shirt.

  She’d worn it to sleep every night since leaving Colorado. She’d eventually given in and washed it, but for a solid two weeks at least, she’d gone to sleep and woken up surrounded by the scent of him.

  Pulling the plaid throw over her, she snuggled deeper into the cushions, settling in for a long conversation with her sister. “Maverick Western’s first Black Friday promotion launches tomorrow. I have to make sure everything’s on track.”

  “But it’s a holiday today.” Jody apparently had no other argument besides that.

  Casey laughed. “It’s also the most important day of the entire year in retail tomorrow.”

  “Just come for dinner. You don’t have to stay late. We’re eating early.” Jody paused and then added, “Mom and Dad aren’t coming.”

  Casey had been about to bow out, once and for all, when her sister had delivered that killing blow. “What? Why not?”

  “They had an invitation to dinner with Dad’s boss.”

  Well, well, well. There were very few things that could tempt Casey to make the drive to Connecticut from the city, especially during the dark days of winter when the sun set at like four in the afternoon and she was perfectly happy to stay snuggled under the Maverick Western blanket, order dinner to be delivered, and work on her laptop in front of the TV, but this was one of them.

  “Mom and Dad are going to have dinner with Dad’s boss on Thanksgiving rather than with their children and grandchildren? On Thanksgiving.” Casey knew she was repeating herself, but she couldn’t believe her ears. Her mother, Mrs. Perfect, the one who was so quick with the lectures about all that Casey did wrong by missing family holidays for work and not serving up her fair share of Harrington grandchildren, was missing Thanksgiving at Jody’s house.

  “Yup.” Jody delivered that one word and was silent.

  Wow. Casey drew in a deep breath and asked, “What time is dinner?”

  “Four.”

  “Okay. I’ll bring the wine.”

  “Great. See you then.” There was a smile in Jody’s voice, but Casey didn’t care. She hung up with the satisfaction of knowing that she was one up on her mother. At least for today.

  She had an hour until she needed to leave, and it wasn’t like she was going to get all dressed up to go to her sister’s house for dinner anyway. A sweater, skinny jeans and a pair of high leather boots would be fine. She still had time to get a little bit of work done, besides this particular work had to do with Bonner. Casey needed to write him and the boys instructions on how to send pictures from their cell phones—when they had signal—directly to the Maverick Western social media accounts. It was all part of the social networking platform for her marketing plan. What customer could resist the lure of real live cowboys? And the more often they were exposed to the Maverick name, and the longer they stayed on the Maverick sites, the more product they’d eventually buy.

  Hell, just seeing Bonner in this blue shirt had made her want it for herself. She’d barely been able to take it off since arriving home. Of course, she was a special case, because with this shirt came some pretty impactful memories. The customers would just have to come up with their own cowboy fantasies. One look at Bonner, Justus and Dakota riding the horses with Misty at their heels, and the buyer would be hooked. The men would envy the pure manliness and freedom. The women…well they’d just want them.

  That in mind, Casey’s fingers flew over the keys.

  Glancing up sometime later, the time in the corner of her screen proved she’d worked so intently crafting the perfect instructional page for Bonner and the boys, she’d lost track of time.

  “Shit.” She flipped the lid on the laptop closed and scrambled to throw on some makeup and an outfit. After grabbing two bottles from the wine rack on the way to the door, she headed out.

  The drive wasn’t too bad. It was a sunny afternoon, which she might not have noticed if her sister hadn’t talked her into coming and she’d remained sequestered in her apartment for the day.

  There wasn’t much traffic between the city and Connecticut. Casey supposed she’d gotten on the road too late for that. Most people were probably at their families’ by now, already being tortured by their own relatives. But today should be nice. No mother there to drop passive-aggressive comments about Casey not being married yet or not having a boyfriend. No father to politely inquire about her job even though his gaze stayed glued to the football game on television as he nodded and pretended to listen to her answer. Just Jody, her husband Kent, and their two perfect daughters, Jenna and Courtney. That, Casey could handle.

  As she pulled up to her sister’s split level ranch in the suburbs and saw the door open and the two girls run out before she’d even gotten her car door open, Casey had to smile. Her nieces didn’t care that she wasn’t married and didn’t have kids. They didn’t give her the cold shoulder when she was traveling for business and had to miss a family event. To them, she was the coolest aunt on earth.

  “Aunt Casey!” Jenna crashed into Casey’s stomach and wrapped both arms around her. Courtney followed seconds later. Luckily their eight and ten year old bodies weren’t heavy enough to knock Casey over with the full body tackle. She did hold the wine bottles a bit tighter before she dropped them and bathed the driveway in Beaujolais Nuveau. “Hey, you two. I missed you.”

  “Me too. We want you to tell us all about the cowboy ranch.” Courtney practically bounced with excitement.

  “It was a cattle ranch.” Casey laughed, though Courtney wasn’t exactly wrong. There sure had been one hell of a cowboy there. The familiar feeling of longing settled in her chest. She pushed it aside. “In fact, I think I have a few pictures in my cell phone.”

  “Yay! I wanna see.” Courtney led the way to the house with something that looked like a half skip, half jog. Casey wished she had half the energy these girls did. Though she supposed back when she was eight, she didn’t just walk anywhere either.

  Jody laughed in the doorway. “Glad you’re here. They haven’t stopped talking about Aunt Casey all day. I thought Kent was going to lose his mind if he had to tell them again how many more minutes until you arrived.”

  Casey laughed and waved at Kent where he squatted in front of the fireplace, putting in a log. “Hey, Kent. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “You too, Aunt Casey.” He smiled. “Let’s pop that wine.”

  Jody grabbed the bottles from Casey. “I’m on it. Turkey will be ready in a few minutes.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t get here earlier. I tried to get some work done before I left and lost track of time.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. The girls will make up for lost time, I’m sure.” Kent closed the fireplace’s screen and brushed his hands together. “So how was Colorado? You survived ranch life I see.”

  “It was actually really great.” Did her cheeks look as red as they felt? Casey still couldn’t manage to think about the ranch without blushing, even a month later.

  “Aunt Casey, sit next to me.” Jenna bounced onto the couch cushion.

  Courtney frowned. “No, she has to sit between us. I wanna see pictures of the cowboys.”

  Casey glanced at the girls. Courtney, at least
, seemed to have inherited her cowboy fetish. Perhaps it was genetic. “You’ll both get to see. Don’t worry.”

  “Well heck, if there’s pictures of cowboys, I wanna see them too.” Jody carried out three glasses of wine from the kitchen.

  “Oh really? This is new. I seem to remember someone—Jody—trying to talk me out of asking Santa for the Cowboy Cody doll for Christmas.” Casey leaned close to Courtney. “Your mom wanted me to ask for a Barbie instead back when I was your age.”

  “Who’d rather have a Barbie than a cowboy?” Courtney screwed up her mouth dramatically.

  On the other side of Casey, Jenna shook her head. “No, Barbie’s way cooler. She’s got all those fun clothes.”

  “Jenna’s definitely your daughter.” Casey shot Jody a look.

  “If I hadn’t given birth to her, I’d wonder if Courtney is yours.” Jody cocked a brow. “So speaking of cowboys…did you meet anyone interesting on your business trip?”

  “I met quite a few interesting people.” Casey concentrated on the wine glass in her hand.

  “Oh my God. You met a man.”

  “What?” Casey’s attention snapped to her sister. She tried to look innocent and rolled her eyes. “No. Why do you say that?”

  “You’re blushing. And you can’t hold eye contact.”

  Casey forced herself to look at Jody, and found her grinning from ear to ear.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” Casey shook her head, but she couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her lips just from the thought of Bonner.

  “Oh, that’s it. You’re going to spill it all. Come into the kitchen with me. We’re going to talk.” Jody reached down and grabbed Casey’s hand, pulling her off the couch.

  Jenna and Courtney jumped up to follow. “You girls stay here and help your father watch the fire.”

  Kent’s eyebrows rose. He glanced at the single log, barely burning. “Um, yeah. I could use the help.”

  “But she’s going to show us pictures.” Courtney stamped her little foot and Casey couldn’t help but smile, knowing she’d done that at her age. Hell, she still did it sometimes.

  “My phone is right here in my purse. You can look at the pictures while your mom and I go…check on the turkey.” Resigned now, Casey gave in. When Jody was after something, she could be relentless. She’d have to feed her sister some details about meeting Bonner, but definitely not all of them. No way. Her cheeks heated at the thought.

 

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