Christmas in Three Rivers: Three Rivers Ranch Romance Novella Collection

by Isaacson, Liz

  “No, sir,” she said as Pete came down the stairs with their daughter. “Isn’t that right, Lieutenant? Women love men who can cook for them.”

  He handed her the little girl. “Porter’s still asleep. This little miss wants juice.” He appraised Lawrence and then Andy. She felt small under the commanding cowboy’s gaze, but he softened it with a smile.

  “That’s how I won over Chelsea. Banned her from the kitchen completely. After that fire—”

  “There was no fire!” she yelled from her bent-over position inside the fridge. “Just smoke. No fire.”

  “She used a fire extinguisher.”

  She rolled her eyes as she poured juice into a sippy cup.

  “Anyway,” Pete said, chuckling. “Women do like it when you cook for them.”

  “How about you make the gravy, then?” Kelly stepped next to him and slapped a whisk into his chest.

  “That’s just fine.” He glanced around. “Where’s Squire?”

  “Waiting for Libby to wake up.”

  “Carly just texted,” Chelsea announced. “They’ll be here in about ten minutes.”

  “Then we’ll almost be ready to eat,” Chelsea’s mom said. “Want me to go get Squire? I can sit at your place until the baby wakes up.”

  Kelly shook her head. “No, I’ll just call him and tell him to wake her up. It’s Thanksgiving. We should be together.” She moved a few feet out of the kitchen, a phone to her ear.

  Andy felt useless loitering in the kitchen, the table already set, with nothing to add to the conversation. She drifted to Lawrence’s side, who’d retreated near the steps, out of the way, but still involved.

  The hustle and bustle of the house reminded Andy of growing up in their small farmhouse on the edge of town. Or what used to be the edge of town—Three Rivers had grown a bit over the past two decades. She and her two older brothers crammed into two bedrooms and used one bathroom. Mama always had food for whoever needed it, not just her own family, and they hosted someone for dinner almost every night.

  A powerful wave of missing rolled over Andy, and Lawrence must’ve noticed because he slipped his fingers into hers.

  “I’m glad you came,” he said, low and through lips that barely moved. “You okay?”

  A zing shot up her arm at his touch, the gentleness in his voice. “I’m just missin’ Mama.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “Where are your brothers this year?”

  “In-laws,” she said. And Daddy had passed away a decade ago, leaving only Andy—and her boutique—in Three Rivers.

  Lawrence released her hand as Squire entered the house with Finn at his side and a still-sleepy eyed Libby. “Carly and Reese just pulled up.”

  He left the front door open for them, and Andy got swept away in Carly’s hug and Reese’s smile. “You came,” he said.

  “I did.” Andy glanced at Lawrence, who looked like he might shoot lasers at Reese. “I’m glad I got invited.” And she was. Lawrence had been right. She shouldn’t be at home today, alone. So while she wasn’t sure where she stood with him yet—if she even wanted to stand with him—she knew she’d been led to Three Rivers Ranch for Thanksgiving dinner.

  Lawrence grew more antsy with every passing moment. Andy seemed to blend into the group flawlessly, and why shouldn’t she? She’d grown up here, knew these people. He was the outsider, the transplant from the equine therapy center in Amarillo.

  Only Pete knew his family owned and operated the Heart Warriors Center—Courage Reins’ biggest and closest competition. After all, Lawrence hadn’t picked up equine therapy in just a few months. Oh, no. He’d grown up with it in Amarillo.

  And he didn’t want anyone else to know. He wasn’t sure why; just thought they might look at him differently, ask him why he’d chosen Courage Reins over his family’s facility. He didn’t want to explain that he needed to live his own life, and even if he chose to do the same thing as his father, at least he’d made his own way.

  “Time to eat.” Chelsea directed people to their spots at the table, and Lawrence sat on one side, sandwiched between Andy and Carly. He exhaled, finally able to relax. He wasn’t sure what had kept him so on-edge—besides Andy. But she giggled at something Kelly had said and then took the one-year-old for her while she dashed back into the kitchen for the salt and pepper shakers.

  Watching Andy hold the child brought warmth to Lawrence’s chest. He’d supported his sister through her pregnancy, held her daughter, loved them both. But the level of admiration flowing through him now, as he saw Andy press a soft kiss to Libby’s hair, couldn’t be matched.

  Kelly returned, took the little girl, and strapped her in a highchair between her and Squire.

  “Okay,” Chelsea said as she too finished with her children and sat down. “Let’s start by going around and saying something we’re each thankful for.”

  Panic squeezed Lawrence’s chest. He had a lot to be grateful for—and he was thankful, and he let other people and God know. But what could he say in this group?

  The things he could say—I’m grateful for Three Rivers. I’m grateful for a job. I’m grateful for my friends—rotated through his mind. He tried to listen to Frank and Heidi, who expressed gratitude for their family.

  Reese said, “I’m grateful for my wife.”

  Carly leaned into him and snuggled close. A flash of jealousy struck Lawrence. He wanted Andy to cuddle with him like that—the way she used to. He sat as straight and still as possible, refusing to look at her.

  “My turn,” Carly said. “I’m grateful for government grants.”

  Every eye turned to Lawrence. He cleared his throat. “I’m grateful for old friendships and hope they can become new again.” He didn’t even know where the words had come from. He hadn’t planned to say them. He shifted his attention to Andy, who stared at him like he’d said he was grateful for pneumonia or the grim reaper or something. He slid his hand onto her knee and she jumped.

  “Your turn,” he said, a smile forming as he felt the tremble in her leg.

  She gave a nervous laugh. “I’m grateful for….” Andy glanced around the table, her gaze settling on Lawrence. “An invitation to this meal.” She smiled, but he felt the ice in it. She leaned forward and shifted her leg from under his touch, giving him a private glare as Kelly spoke.

  Lawrence should’ve felt frustrated at her rejection. Should’ve wondered what he should’ve said besides what he did. Should’ve done just about anything but push Andy when she clearly wasn’t ready.

  Instead, he scooted a tiny bit closer to her and leaned forward, almost touching her, in the pretense that he was trying to see and listen to Squire. But honestly, Lawrence had no idea what the man said. Pete went last, and then Chelsea declared it time to eat.

  Andy leaned back and bumped into him. “Excuse me.” Her voice could’ve lanced him with icicles.

  “No problem.” He didn’t move away.

  “Back up,” she hissed through clenched teeth as she spooned creamed corn onto her plate.

  Lawrence chuckled, sure he’d made his intentions for the invitation to dinner clear, and gave her the distance she wanted. What he wanted, he couldn’t quite have. He leaned over to Carly. “How can I get Andy alone to talk to her?”

  She heard him, but she didn’t answer right away, instead contributing to the argument Reese was having with Will Armstrong about the Dallas Cowboys. In fact, she didn’t answer him at all through the rest of the meal. It ended, and the group moved into the great room on the opposite side of the stairs. Pete produced a stack of games, and laughter and fun passed the next hour.

  “How about a walk before pie?” Carly asked, glancing around. She lingered on Lawrence as she tucked her arm into Reese’s. “We’ll go slow.”

  “Good idea,” Squire said. “Let the kids run for a bit.”

  Jackets slid over shoulders and shoes were found for children, and Lawrence waited until everyone had left just to make sure Andy went with them. She positioned herself wi
th Chelsea and Kelly while the men took the kids farther down the road and into the Ackerman’s bigger backyard.

  Carly and Reese, Heidi and Frank, and Ivory and Will climbed the steps to the Ackerman’s deck and sat down.

  Lawrence tagged along behind the women, desperation flooding him. How could he talk to Andy now? She wouldn’t like him pulling her away, wouldn’t want to be seen going off with him alone—though she used to love to sneak away with him for a stolen kiss in the barn.

  Another of their little secrets.

  Instead of trying to do something he didn’t know how to do, he joined Squire and Pete as they threw a football back and forth. Lawrence kept his focus there, and where Andy disappeared to, he didn’t know.

  Pete tossed the ball to Finn. “So, Lawrence, you gettin’ back together with Andy?”

  “No.” The word came automatically and sounded a tad on the defensive side. He didn’t like the look Pete exchanged with Squire.

  He expected Pete, ever the observant lieutenant, to press the issue, find out the truth. But he just said, “Oh, okay,” and caught the ball Squire threw his way.

  Several minutes later, Carly called, “Lawrence! I need you up here.”

  “Duty calls.” He left the game and mounted the steps. “Yeah?”

  She pointed across the road, down toward Brynn’s new facilities. “She went that way two minutes ago. Alone.”

  Lawrence could’ve hugged Carly. Instead he said, “Thanks, Carly,” and bolted down the steps.

  “Go slow!” Reese called after him, but Lawrence couldn’t make his heart go slow, or his legs, or his ideas.

  He found Andy around the back of the arena, the barn between her and everyone else on the homestead. She stood facing the open range, her back to him. Her dark hair blew in the winter wind, and she clutched the throat of her jacket closed with tight fingers.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  She shrugged and he leaned against the fence next to her, looked out in the same direction she was.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me about your family?”

  Her question caused fireworks to explode in Lawrence’s brain. He knew the answer, but didn’t want to say it out loud.

  “I mean, if we’re going to make this old friendship new again, I think you should be more forthcoming.” She didn’t sound mad, or happy, or teasing. Lawrence couldn’t figure out how she felt, and unease tripped through his body.

  “Also, had I known you had a sister in Amarillo—a sister at all—I might not have assumed you were dating her.” Folding her arms, she shifted her weight away from him, her message clear.

  Lawrence watched the dead grasses lean in the wind. “I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want you to know what a failure I am.”

  She finally turned and looked at him. “Why would you be a failure for having a family?”

  He didn’t expect anyone else to understand. “They don’t know where I am,” he said. “They don’t know what I do. If they did…trust me, I’m a disappointment.”

  Cheryl, five years younger than Lawrence, didn’t work with horses. She’d never wanted to, and somehow that was okay. But if Lawrence didn’t want the equine therapy organization his parents had dedicated their lives to, suddenly he’d committed the crime of the century.

  “My sister, Cheryl, by the way. Her name is Cheryl. Her baby’s name is Ruthann. She moved to San Antonio right after she had the baby.” He looked at Andy, really let her see whatever she wanted to see. “My parents didn’t treat her well.”

  She reached up like she’d touch his face, but her hand dropped to her side and she tucked it in her jacket pocket. “Do your parents treat you well?”

  “They wanted me to take over the family business.” Lawrence looked away. “I didn’t want to.”

  “What was the family business?”

  “Nothing.” He turned and started back toward the homestead. He didn’t want to have this conversation. This was why he hadn’t told her anything about his family in the six months they’d dated.

  “Lawrence.” She hurried to catch him, pulled on his arm to get him to stop from entering the barn. Sparks raced through his body, though her skin hadn’t touched his.

  “Come on,” she said.

  “Come on, what, Andy?” He made himself as tall as he could. “You made it real clear you aren’t interested in getting back together. I’m not gonna bare my soul now.” He yanked open the barn door and went inside, half-hoping she’d follow him, demand he tell her more, confess that she was interested in getting back together.

  She didn’t; the barn door banged closed behind him. He continued past Pete and Chelsea’s, across the parking lot where Andy had left her car, and between the silos and the chicken pens.

  His cabin sat third in line, and he dang near tore off the door when he entered. He paced the small living room, trying to decide what to do. His temper rarely made an appearance, but if there was one thing that could drive him mad in less than a heartbeat, it was talk of his family.

  So what if he’d left his parents and their equine therapy unit?

  So what that he hadn’t been able to find anything else that he liked nearly as much, even after years of trying?

  So what that his pride had prevented him from ever going home again? Ever apologizing? Ever making things right?

  His parents didn’t know that he’d made practically nothing of his life.

  No one knew. No one needed to know, especially not the beautiful, successful Andrea Larsen.

  “Are you sure about this?” Andy looked at the pie plate as vipers bit their way through her system. “He was really mad.”

  She’d never seen Lawrence get mad, ever. In their six months together, he’d been calm and collected and soft-spoken and soothing. He’d made her feel special by coming to her store and helping her with inventory, or just watching her hang clothes after she’d flipped the sign to closed.

  She’d come out to the ranch and watch his therapy lessons, and they’d walk through the fields, and he’d taught her about horses. True, he’d never said anything about his family, and while Andy had wondered at the time, she hadn’t found it odd. He was mysterious, and handsome, and she’d assumed he’d tell her when he was ready.

  “Of course I’m sure.” Carly’s voice pulled Andy from her memories. “Every man loves pie, and this is chocolate cookie pie.” She straightened Andy’s blouse. “Right, girls?”

  Kelly nodded, and Chelsea stepped forward. “I brought Pete a pie once. It seemed to work, because he came to dinner the next day.”

  Andy didn’t want Lawrence to come to dinner with her. Or maybe she did. Everything jumbled inside her, and she didn’t know what she wanted.

  “So you march over there,” Kelly said.

  “And you knock nicely,” Chelsea added. “No banging.”

  “When he answers, you give him the pie, and say you missed him at the house and thought he might want this.” Carly smiled. “Then you say that you could barely eat because you can’t stand the thought of him upset, and ask him if he’d like to share it with you.” She brandished two forks. “Ask him to walk out on the range. He likes that.”

  “And you won’t have to go in his cabin,” Kelly added. “He might not want you in there if he’s…a tiny bit upset.”

  “He’s mad,” Andy said, eyeing the forks like they’d stab her on the way to Lawrence’s cabin.

  “Don’t beg him to go with you,” Chelsea said. “If he doesn’t want to come, take both forks and head out on the range alone. That’ll get him to come.”

  “Why will that get him to come?” Andy wondered how these women knew so much about how to win over a man.

  “Because, silly, he won’t want you out on the range alone.” Chelsea smiled and squeezed Andy’s shoulder. “And there’s a storm comin’ in. He definitely won’t let you wander off on your own.”

  “Okay, ready?” Kelly took a deep breath, and Andy mimic
ked her.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” She took the forks from Carly and headed outside. The sky had turned a threatening shade of navy blue, and by the time she knocked—nicely—on Lawrence’s door, the air held the promise of rain.

  Lawrence whipped the door open and stared at her.

  “Hey,” she started. “I brought you some pie, since you missed dessert.” She held the plate, which held half of a chocolate cookie pie, toward him with one hand. She’d forgotten what to say next, but the presence of the silverware in her other hand reminded her.

  “I didn’t get to eat any either,” she said. “I was too worried about you. Want to share?”

  His blue eyes sparked lightning in her direction. Sometime during lunch she’d decided to give Lawrence another chance. Give them another chance. Or maybe she’d been stewing over a second chance with him since he’d lured her out to the ranch and invited her to Thanksgiving dinner. She wasn’t sure.

  When he didn’t move, or invite her in, or speak at all, she said, “Well, okay. I’m going to take a walk and find a place to eat my pie.” She adjusted the plastic wrap on the plate, turned and moved down his steps, pivoted to go between the cabins and onto the range. Her throat tightened with fear. Everything looked exactly the same out here. What if she really got lost?

  “Where you goin’?” he called after her.

  “Pie.” She lifted the forks and kept walking. The wind nearly stole the dessert from her, but she plowed on. She spied a tree in the distance, and she thought she could make it there and back safely enough.

  “Andy, this is insane.” Lawrence ran up beside her. “It’s going to rain any second.”

  She looked at him and couldn’t look away. “Well, I can’t go back to Chelsea’s now. It’ll be too embarrassing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I had to tell them about you stomping off and leaving me, and I can’t do that again.”

  “Like how you rejected me at dinner?”

  “I wasn’t ready for what you said.” She stopped, her anger overshadowing her embarrassment and fear. “And you shouldn’t have touched me like that. It really put me on the spot.”