Christmas in Three Rivers: Three Rivers Ranch Romance Novella Collection

by Isaacson, Liz

  He followed her up, the scent of her perfume barely lingering in the air behind her. When he made it to the loft, she’d already settled her back against the wall, the round window immediately beside her.

  Kenny took the spot on the other side of her and flashed her a winning smile. “I can’t believe you think I’m cute.” He pulled out his turkey sandwich and took a bite.

  “Stop it.” She smiled and opened a container of yogurt. She flipped the corner and mixed in the toppings.

  He swallowed and nudged her shoulder with his. “Here I was thinkin’ about how I could tell you how beautiful I think you are.”

  She blinked at him, her long lashes catching the light and throwing it into his face. “You are, you know. Beautiful.” Kenny’s fingers tightened and he worked to release them before he squished his sandwich. “I want to know everything about you. Let’s start with your family. Yeah?” He examined her face for signs of distress, a warning voice in his head telling him to go slow with Taryn Tucker.

  She flinched slightly, and Kenny suddenly remembered the slip about her brother. “Never mind,” he said. “Job? I mean, obviously, you’re cleanin’ out here right now, but….” He shut his mouth, and fast.

  This conversation was a complete disaster. Had he really brought up her family again? And was he really going to say she must’ve had a better job before becoming a maid for two dozen cowhands? He shoved half his sandwich in his mouth, the remaining fifteen minutes of his lunch suddenly too long.

  A light laugh started from beside him, causing horror to snake through his gut. “Sorry,” he mumbled around bread and meat.

  “It’s fine, Kenny. My family is…a bit of a sore subject, but I can tell you the basics. Born and raised in South Dakota. My parents are still there.” She scraped her plastic spoon around the edge of the yogurt container to get every last bit. “My brother, well, he passed away a few years ago. It’s still hard for me to talk about. I was very close to him.”

  Kenny’s hand acted of its own accord, moving up and around Taryn’s shoulders, drawing her into the protective shield of his chest. Right where he wanted her to be. Right where he needed her to be.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “What happened?”

  She cleared her throat and remained stiff in his arms. “He was ex-marines, like you. Became a police officer and was shot during a drug bust in Philly.”

  Pieces began to click around in Kenny’s head. No wonder she’d snooped through his closet when she’d seen the hint of his desert cammies. He couldn’t think of anything to say, just like he hadn’t been able to when he’d attended Marcus’s funeral, one of his fallen comrades-in-arms. All he’d been able to tell Marcus’s mother was, “I’m sorry,” and he repeated the sentiment to Taryn again.

  She sagged against him, and he relished the feel of holding her close, inhaling her floral and sunshine scent, and having her company.

  “Tell me about your family,” she said.

  “My parents are divorced,” he said. “My dad moved back to his homestate of Montana, where he now lives. He met Garth there. My mom lives in California. She has a boyfriend, but I don’t ask her much about him.” Kenny’s words began to hollow and he forced a measure of happiness back into them. “I have one older sister who’s married and lives in California too. One younger brother who works for a software company in Japan.”

  “Japan? Wow.”

  Kenny chuckled. “I know, right? He keeps telling me to come visit, but….”

  “But what?”

  “I don’t really like to travel.”

  She leaned away and cocked her head up at him. “Really? I love traveling.”

  “Oh, yeah? You’ve done a lot of it?”

  “Yeah, sure, when I was a reporter—” Her eyes rounded and her voice cut into silence. An alarm went off on her wrist, and she frantically pressed the button on the side of her fitness tracker. “I have to get back to work.”

  “Okay.” Kenny watched her scramble away from him and practically tumble down the ladder, wondering what demons haunted her and how he could vanquish them.

  Taryn kicked herself while she cleaned the last cabin of the day, while she drove back to her apartment, while she showered. If Kenny had any skills with a computer, he’d know who she was—everything about her—with a simple Google search.

  She wasn’t sure how she could ever face him again. And yet, she found her feet taking her to the horse barn the next day when her alarm alerted her that Kenny’s lunchtime had started. He wasn’t there, but at least neither was anyone else.

  A horse wandered closer, and Taryn reached up to pat it. She didn’t have much experience with horses, but this eggshell-colored beast seemed about as dangerous as a cotton ball. It snuffled, and Taryn smiled at the gentleness of the animal.

  “It’s almost done raining,” she said. “You look like you’d like a good, long ride.”

  “Don’t promise her it’s almost done raining.” Kenny’s voice widened Taryn’s smile and she turned halfway toward him. “It is going into winter, you know. Rains a lot here in the winter.”

  “Define ‘a lot’. Down in Corpus Christi, it didn’t rain much.”

  He leaned against the fence next to her and stroked the horse’s neck. “Is that where you’re from?”

  “I lived there for a long time,” she said, her throat closing but not as far as it sometimes did. Progress. “I was a news reporter.”

  “Like on TV?”

  “Yes.”

  The horse snuffled again, and Kenny laughed. “Okay, Peony. I’ll get you some sugar.” He moved away from Taryn, and the comfort and peace he seemed to exude went with him. He returned a minute later, several cubes in his hand. He handed them to Taryn. “Give ‘er one at a time, and don’t be surprised if a big black fellow joins you. Hank adores sugar.”

  Taryn held out one sugar cube, and a squirrel of delight ran through her when the horse sucked it up with her lips. Sure enough, a tall, black horse stuck his head into Peony’s stall a moment later.

  “I’m gonna go eat,” Kenny said. “It’s been a long morning.” He moved to the ladder and scaled it in only a few steps. Taryn spent several more minutes with the two horses, also feeling their strength and power give her the confidence she needed to follow Kenny to the hayloft.

  She found him in her spot next to the window, so she took his place from yesterday and pulled out her peanut butter sandwich. “Do you have allergies?” she asked.

  “Just to penicillin. Makes me throw up.”

  She bit into her lunch. “Chunky or creamy?”

  “Chunky, always.” He grinned down at her. “You?”

  “Both. Creamy in cookies. Chunky on sandwiches. Also, I found this gourmet peanut butter in Corpus Christi once. It was a blend of chocolate and peanut butter in a jar.” Taryn relaxed as she remembered the international shop, which boasted chocolate from all over the world, and soft drinks from all walks of life. She’d found the chocolate peanut butter on a back shelf, along with a hazelnut cream she’d adored.

  “Sounds dangerous,” he said.

  “It definitely was to my waistline,” she agreed with a little giggle.

  He matched his laughter to hers and slid his hand into hers. He leaned his head back against the barn wall and closed his eyes, that infectious smile still playing with his lips. Taryn watched him, searching inside herself for how she felt here, with him, holding his hand.

  She identified peaceful, content, happy. And she hadn’t felt anything like those emotions in so long, she could barely recognize them.

  She copied him, determined to memorize how right being here with him felt so she could hold onto it for later.

  “Thanks for being patient with me,” she said, unsure of where the words came from.

  His only answer came in the form of extra pressure on her fingers.

  Taryn met Kenny in the barn every day that she worked out at the ranch. She did her grocery shopping in person for the first time since
leaving Corpus Christi. She even did a little window shopping down Main Street as Thanksgiving approached.

  Something about Three Rivers had infected her. Something good. Something she didn’t want to leave in her rear-view mirror. It was more than Kenny Stockton, though the handsome cowboy played the biggest part in her love affair with the small town.

  She held hands with him, told him about her childhood, even ventured into territory she used to deem dangerous when she spoke briefly about Collin or her travels to various cities around the country.

  The weeks passed quickly, until one day, Kenny said, “So I’ll pick you up about eleven. Is that okay?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “It’s Thanksgiving Day tomorrow.” He peered at her with curiosity. “Do you even own a calendar?”

  She lifted her wrist and shook her fitness tracker at him. “I know what day it is.”

  “Do you?” He chuckled. “So eleven o’clock tomorrow. I’ll need your address.”

  Taryn startled, unsure if she even knew her address. “Okay, I live above the barber shop.”

  “You do? Aren’t you worried about Old Man Tillman?”

  Taryn searched his face but found nothing sinister. “Why would I be?”

  “You know, Sweeny Todd?” He smiled and tucked her closer to his body. “Never mind. Shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “Yeah, because now I’ll be worried that that eighty-year-old man could climb the stairs.” She laughed. “Which he can’t, by the way.”

  Kenny laughed, the sound originating in his chest and vibrating Taryn’s body. She loved listening to him laugh. She wished she could bottle the sound and fall asleep to it at night.

  “Eleven is fine,” she said. “What do I wear?”

  “Whatever,” he said. “Charlie’s mom isn’t fussy.”

  “So jeans would be okay?”

  “Sure. That would be okay.” He gestured to her disgusting maid clothes.

  She leaned out of his arms. “This shirt has holes in the bottom of it.”

  He licked his lips—completely distracting her—and shrugged. “I like whatever you wear.”

  “You like whatever I wear?” She tipped her head back and laughed. “All you’ve seen is raggedy jeans and holey shirts.”

  “Not true. I saw you in that dress last week at church.”

  She wondered which one, because she’d left most of her nice clothes down south. “And you didn’t come sit by me? I’ve been sitting alone for weeks. It’s….”

  “It’s what?”

  “It would be better if I had a handsome man to hold my hand during the sermon.”

  His gaze sharpened; he looked at her with all the precision of a predatory bird. A true marine. “Well, if I’d known that, I would’ve done it weeks ago.”

  His intense gaze combined with his husky words drove Taryn’s desire toward the ceiling. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, her fantasies about kissing him taking center stage in her mind. Could she kiss him here? In a hayloft?

  He dipped his head as if he’d meet her mouth with his right this second. She closed her eyes in anticipation, almost desperate for his kiss.

  “So eleven tomorrow,” he whispered, his mouth missing hers completely and touching just below her jaw. “And church on Sunday.” His lips arced up toward her ear. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she echoed, her voice hardly her own. He straightened, and she released the unconscious grip she had on his collar. He looked at her with desire and knowledge in his eyes, stood, and headed toward the ladder.

  “’Bye, Taryn.”

  “See you tomorrow,” she said, glad she knew Kenny wanted to kiss her as much as she wanted to kiss him. An equal measure of fear bolted through her. She knew what came after kissing, and that dating then led to proposals, and Taryn didn’t have a great track record with those. Sighing, she followed Kenny’s scent down the ladder to the horse stalls, where her newfound friends waited for her with eager eyes. At least they only wanted sugar cubes.

  If Taryn could figure out what she wanted, she could at least take a step forward. As it was, she felt stuck. Stuck, with nowhere else to go. Nothing else to do.

  Kenny muttered to himself during the entire forty-minute drive to town. Charlie had left the ranch last night, so Kenny’d been alone in the cabin. His speeches then hadn’t benefitted him any more than his stern self-lectures were helping him now.

  He’d coached himself to go slow with Taryn, draw out the details of her life the way he would interrogate a prisoner, let her set the pace with their physical relationship. He’d wanted so badly to kiss her in the hayloft the day before. She wanted him to as well. Why he hadn’t done it, he still wasn’t sure.

  Yes, he was. He hadn’t kissed her because he had the feeling he shouldn’t. He wasn’t perfect at listening to the Lord and obeying, but he’d been trying really hard to do so when it came to Taryn. He prayed for clarity of thought when it came to her, and though his body had been screaming at him to kiss her! his mind had warned him to back off.

  Kenny hadn’t made it to kissing ground in a while—that usually happened after the third date with the women in Three Rivers. He could navigate the town’s roads without thought, but he didn’t know how to map this terrain with someone as complicated as Taryn.

  In the end, he knew she needed to come to him. Whenever she was ready. He’d admit he’d prayed for quite a while last night that she would be ready soon. He didn’t know how many more lunches he could endure without being able to taste her lips.

  “At least one more, Marine,” he ordered himself as he eased to a stop in front of the barber shop. He opened the door and stood just as a door to the right of the shop opened and a vision of poise and beauty emerged.

  “Taryn,” he breathed. No wonder the woman had been on TV. Wearing a denim dress with a wide, mustard-yellow sash, she looked sophisticated and kissable at the same time. He swept her into his arms, where she giggled and lifted her sandaled feet off the ground.

  He nuzzled his face into her neck, taking a deep breath of her clean, crisp perfume. A new scent she didn’t wear to clean cabins. “Mmm, Happy Thanksgiving, Taryn.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Kenny.” She regained her feet and beamed up at him. “You look handsome as ever.”

  “That wasn’t the dress I saw you wearing at church.” That one had been black, accentuated all her curves, and accented with bright blue jewelry.

  “That’s because I just bought it from the boutique.” She indicated a building down the block. “The owner there is an amazing woman.”

  “You’re an amazing woman.” He took both her hands in his, beyond joyful to share this day with her.

  She stretched up and brushed her lips across his cheek. “Thank you.” Her southern twang pierced him right through the heart, and Kenny felt himself falling.

  Not so fast, he told himself. Again, and again. He always fell first, and he didn’t want to make that same mistake this time. He’d been treading so carefully, because he didn’t want to make any mistakes with Taryn. She seemed like the type of woman who’d already seen her fair share of disappointments, and he didn’t want to add to those.

  “You ready to go?” he asked with a squeeze to her fingers.

  “Not quite.”

  Kenny’s eyebrows rose. “No?” He glanced back to the door through which she’d exited. “Did you need to run back upstairs?”

  A playful glint rode in her eyes when he looked at her again. “Nope.” She leaned forward, and he encircled her in his arms. She tipped onto her toes again, her eyes drifting closed a moment before Kenny understood her meaning.

  Her mouth brushed his, incensing his desire for her. He brought her closer, catching her lips again and keeping them next to his for longer.

  His pulse skyrocketed, but he forced himself to remain in the moment. Because it was the single best moment of his life.

  Kissing Kenny took the number one spot on Taryn’s Best Experiences list. Previous to the uniting of
their mouths, her trip to Iceland had claimed that spot. But now, standing with his muscular arms around her and his scent tantalizing her and his mouth so perfectly molded to hers, Taryn knew Iceland didn’t hold a candle to Kenny Stockton.

  Nothing ever would. No one ever could.

  She finally broke the contact between them, her calves tense from having to stretch up to reach his face. He held her up easily, and she relaxed against his chest.

  “Well…what was that?” he asked.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. You didn’t want me to kiss you?” She tipped her head back to look at him. “You sure acted like you liked it.”

  “Oh, I liked it.” He ducked his head as if he’d kiss her again. But he didn’t, and a knife of disappointment cut through her chest. “Just didn’t know that had to be done before you could go to Thanksgiving dinner.”

  She stepped out of his arms, taking a careful moment to make sure her legs could support her weight. She smoothed down her skirt and adjusted her sash, which had been slightly displaced because of his grip on her waist. “Well, it did.”

  He stepped to her truck door and opened it. “So if I did that again, you wouldn’t mind?”

  Taryn moved into his personal space, her eyes caught on his. Desire and joy and a sparkling tease adorned his stormy-sky eyes. She lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I guess not.”

  She climbed into the truck as he said, “You guess not?”

  “You’ll have to try it and see.” She crossed her legs and stared straight out the windshield. His chuckle made her grin as he closed the door and waltzed in front of the truck.

  He got in next to her and started the ignition. He fiddled with the heater settings. He leaned across the space between them and tucked his hand behind her head. She turned toward him, letting him guide her mouth to his for the second best experience of her life.