His father sat, as he always did, in a leather recliner near the fire. And as usual, a scowl marred his craggy features.
“Hi, Dad.” He walked forward to hold out his hand. “I’ve brought my new neighbor, Ivy Bishop, for dinner.”
His father glared at him, his grey brows drawn together, making no effort to stand or to shake Rhett’s hand. He slowly lowered his arm to his side. Nothing had changed in the month since his last visit.
His father turned to give Ivy the once over and Rhett moved to stand beside her. “What’s your name, girlie? Can’t you speak for yourself?”
Ivy smiled a calm smile and stepped away from Rhett. “Rhett has already told you who I was and he did so because he was being polite and not because I can’t speak. Where I come from it’s also customary to stand and greet people when they enter a room.”
His father grunted. “Can’t you see, girlie, I’m an invalid. I’m not standing or walking anywhere. And I’m also having my dinner right here, thank you very much.”
Ivy’s smile never wavered. “Mr. Dixon, you and I both know you can stand and walk.” She raised a brow toward the bookcase across the room.
His father’s eyes narrowed. Ivy held his glare. Then, what Rhett could only describe as a smile passed across his father’s weathered face. But it’d been so long since he’d seen his father smile, he wasn’t sure.
To his amazement, his father then pushed himself out of the chair and stood. Kendall raced to his side, and he waved her away with a fierce frown. Eyes never leaving Ivy, he hobbled toward their dinner guest.
“Ivy Bishop, huh.”
“Yes.”
He glowered before slowly holding a hand out toward her.
She shook her head. “Your son first, Mr. Dixon.”
His father’s lips pressed together but he shuffled forward and shook Rhett’s hand. The anger in his eyes was all too bitterly familiar. But as Rhett released his gnarled and bony fingers, he caught a glitter of emotion he couldn’t place.
His father turned to Ivy. “You related to the original Rose Crown Bishops?”
“My grandfather was born on Rose Crown Ranch.”
“That figures. Your great-grandmother had a fearsome reputation.”
He offered her his hand. “You’re going to have strong sons.”
Ivy shook his hand. “And even stronger daughters.”
This time Rhett had no doubt his father smiled. He met Kendall’s eyes, knowing the shock in her face would be mirrored in his. Rhett glanced at the bookshelf looking for the leverage Ivy had used. From behind a pot plant the curve of a pipe protruded. He might have known. The old codger hadn’t stopped smoking at all. His doctor was going to need to have another talk to his stubborn patient.
His father turned as if to head to his chair and Ivy looped her arm through his.
“Mr. Dixon, I believe we’re eating in the kitchen. Kendall has set a lovely table and the roast chicken smells divine. I’d also love to hear some stories about my great-grandmother.”
*
Whatever fairy wand Ivy had waved over his father, the effect continued through the main meal and also through dessert. When Rhett went to help Kendall with the after-dinner coffees, her smile was sunrise bright.
“Can you believe this?” she asked, in a low voice as she collected four mugs. “Sure, he still has an opinion on everything and has to be right, but he’s being polite. And he even laughed.”
“I know. Peta’s going to think we stopped at Grey’s Saloon for a few drinks when we tell her.”
Kendall giggled. “She won’t when she meets Ivy. She’s such a gem.”
Kendall arranged the cookies he and Ivy had baked on a china plate that had belonged to their mother. She then set the plate on the table at the same time as he set his father’s coffee before him. His father stared at the cookies, his rheumy eyes welling with despair.
Shock held Rhett still. Ivy had been right. His father missed his mother after all. And from the anguish he’d witnessed, his father wasn’t only missing his mother; he still grieved for her deeply.
Rhett glanced at Ivy and caught her looking at him, her hazel eyes brown.
“Your father would like to go on the Christmas Stroll you mentioned at the Santa’s workshop,” she said, quietly.
“Dad, you never said you wanted to go.” Kendall sat at the table and reached for a cookie.
“You never asked.”
Despite his gruff reply, his father’s tone didn’t contain the usual bite.
Rhett set the remaining three coffees on the table. “No problem. I bought a pile of Stroll buttons the other day. I’ll talk to Peta, and we can all go together.”
His father slowly nodded. “I don’t want to be out long but I do want to see the decorations you’ve worked on. The collection was always a favorite of your mother’s.”
Kendall’s hand found Rhett’s under the table and he squeezed her fingers. This was the first time their father had mentioned their mother.
Rhett cleared his throat. “Sounds like a good plan.”
He took a sip of coffee even knowing it would be too hot. Honoring his promise to his mother to not give up on his father suddenly didn’t seem as hopeless. His father would always be a testy and hard man but as he worked through his grief he might regain the independence he’d lost. When Rhett had been young he’d followed his father around the ranch like a mini-shadow. Perhaps there could be a day when his father could visit Little Rose Crown and they could again talk cattle.
Rhett snuck a look at Ivy as she asked about what events would be on at the Christmas Stroll. Wisps of her fawn-brown hair had worked themselves free and fell to frame her beautiful face. She’d also taken off her black coat and to his relief wore her fitted white fluffy cardigan with the pearl buttons. She again looked like the Ivy who was right at home in small town Marietta.
His gaze lingered. Her strength and her compassion humbled him. She’d come to Montana to grieve and to heal and here she was helping his family do the very same thing. Tonight she’d provided hope where before there had only been anger, guilt and bitterness. She really was a Christmas angel.
Something shifted deep inside.
A Christmas angel he couldn’t let fly away once the festive season ended.
Chapter Eight
‡
Ivy opened the driver’s side car door and climbed out into a vibrant world bright with Christmas spirit. She smiled and tugged her white beanie a little further over her ears. The sudden flurry of fat snowflakes couldn’t dampen the festive atmosphere pulsing from Marietta’s Main Street. The Christmas Stroll was well and truly underway.
She locked her car and waited for a couple to stroll past hand-in-hand. She waited for loneliness to kick in but instead she felt an unexpected relief. She might no longer have James’ hand to hold but she also no longer had unspoken rules and expectations to adhere to. She hadn’t realized how much the disapproving lift of James’ brow had dictated what she did, and didn’t do.
She checked her phone for any further texts from Rhett. He’d come to town earlier to meet his sisters and father so they could find a good spot along Main Street to watch Santa lead the lighting ceremony to the courthouse in Crawford Park. Rhett had invited her to join them but she’d declined, knowing they needed time together as a family.
Rhett had later sent through a photograph of his father sitting in a camp chair, a Santa hat on his head and Kendall’s arm around his shoulders. The slight curl of Stewart Dixon’s mouth said he was enjoying himself despite his scowl. Rhett had then messaged to say they were heading to Community Park to see the restored decorations before the crowds thickened and they would wait for her there.
Ivy walked through the fading light toward the recreation center. To her right, the last of the sun’s rays clung to Copper Mountain. She stopped to stare at the gilded slopes. Even if her meltdown never happened, just like the granite peak before her, she now felt strong enough to survive whatever life
asked of her.
She’d come to Marietta, her soul in pieces. She still wouldn’t have her beloved grandparents with her for Christmas, and she had no firm idea what she would do once Christmas was over, but one thing she did know was she was going to be okay. She was well over James and close to feeling whole again.
A male voice called her name. She turned to see Rhett jogging toward her. Dressed in his familiar boots, jeans and sheepskin jacket, instead of his cowboy hat he wore a charcoal-grey beanie. He halted before her and his dimples flickered. Her breath caught. He really did have the most beautiful mouth. It had so been worth the risk to kiss him.
“You managed to find a car park close by?”
“Yes, I was lucky enough to see someone leave.”
“Great. Otherwise you could have had quite a hike.”
He half-turned to look at the three figures that slowly walked toward them. Her eyes traced his handsome profile even as she curled her gloved fingers into her palms. There was no roof, let alone mistletoe above them, to give her another excuse to kiss him.
“Having fun?” she asked.
He faced her again. “Yes, so far. Dad has been on his best behavior. And I have been too.”
“I’m glad to hear.”
He chuckled. “After the way you handled my father the other night I’m never going to be anything but on my best behavior around you.”
“I’m only five feet four inches, as if I’m scary.” She matched his grin. “Besides, I thought cowboys weren’t scared of anything?”
A shadow flittered across his eyes before his smile broadened. “Dressed like you are now, you’re far from scary.” His gaze dropped to her lips, over her new red coat, past her jeans to her snow boots. “Just remind me to never take you on when you’re wearing your killer city-heeled boots.”
“Deal.” She didn’t know if it was his slow and thorough appraisal or the sudden intensity of his eyes that made her breathing quicken.
Movement caught her attention and she leaned past Rhett to return Kendall’s wave. Kendall hovered close to her father’s side, while Peta strolled a small distance away. Taller than Kendall, Peta had a long and lean look that spoke of many hours working her ranch. It seemed that Rhett wasn’t the only Dixon to have inherited the workaholic gene.
“Hi, Ivy,” Kendall said, her voice light as the trio joined them.
“Hey, Kendall. Nice hat.”
She reached out to touch the felt of the Santa hat that sat on Kendall’s honey-blonde head. Pretty red bell earrings hung from her ears.
“Yes, I think so. I don’t know why Dad took his off.”
“Because I looked like a fool,” Stewart Dixon grumbled.
Ivy smiled. “From the photo Rhett sent you looked like you were having fun.”
Stewart grunted, his face unimpressed but even in the poor light she could see it was tiredness, not ill-humor, that crumpled his features.
“Ivy, this is Peta. Peta this is Ivy.”
“Nice to meet you, Peta.”
The woman who nodded at her might share her siblings’ blue eyes but her honey-blonde hair was darker than Kendall’s. Instead of a beanie or Santa hat she wore a cowgirl hat and her navy jacket was plain and practical.
“Likewise.”
Ivy repressed a smile at Peta’s no-nonsense tone. Stewart might have wanted sons but Ivy had no doubt Peta was as strong-willed as if she’d been born a boy.
“So where shall we head now?” Ivy asked, knowing Peta wouldn’t want to stand around and make small talk. She’d once been the same way.
“Home,” Stewart said.
“Home?” Kendall said, dismay tensing her mouth.
“Rhett can show Ivy around and you girls can take me back to Bramble Lane.”
“No,” Rhett said, his eyes fixed on his father. “I drove you. I’ll take you home. The girls don’t always have to look after you.”
Stewart frowned and stubbornness firmed his chin as he glared at Rhett. Stewart may have wanted a strong son but now he had one Ivy suspected he didn’t know how to deal with being challenged or with the shift in power.
“How about we all go?” she suggested, playing peacemaker.
Stewart shook his grey head. “Peta needs to check on her sick mare and Kendall said she’d meet Izzy outside the Main Street Diner. Rhett, you and Ivy have no reason to leave this end of town.”
Peta stepped forward. “Rhett, Dad’s right. You and Ivy stay and explore this part of Main Street. Kendall and I’ll go with Dad.” She held out her hands with a smile. “So, little brother, hand over the keys to your truck.”
“My keys?” He arched a brow.
“Yes.” Peta’s smile grew. “The keys to your precious pickup.”
“My truck that I really like?”
“Yes. That truck.”
By now Kendall was smiling too.
Rhett spoke again. “You do know I didn’t dent your truck on purpose. Someone ran into the back of me.”
Peta clicked her fingers. “Keys. Cowboy.”
Kendall giggled. “I’ll drive.”
“No,” Rhett and Peta said in unison.
Rhett handed the keys to Peta who, with a twinkle in her eyes, slipped them into her coat pocket and then patted them.
Stewart looked at Ivy, a ghost of a smile playing across his mouth.
“There’s a reason Kendall drives a small sedan. The last time Kendall drove a truck she knocked over three fence posts.”
“In my defense,” Kendall said, “I was trying to avoid hitting a deer.”
Rhett chuckled. “And the time you backed Peta’s truck into the barn door?”
“It’s not my fault your truck doesn’t have a reversing camera,” Kendall said to Peta.
Peta settled her hat on her head as a wind gust caught beneath the wide brim. “It does now.”
“Girls, let’s go,” Stewart said, pulling the collar of his jacket higher. “I’m colder than a duck that forgot to fly south for winter.”
They all said their goodbyes and soon Ivy and Rhett were alone on the sidewalk. With the snow swirling around them, despite the nearby noise and lights, it was as though they were cocooned in their own world.
Rhett smiled and dusted the snowflakes off her beanie.
“You already have the obligatory dusting of Marietta snow so now you need a button and you are good to go for the Christmas Stroll.”
He delved into his coat pocket and produced a round button. He pulled off his gloves, stored them in his coat pocket and moved toward her. She made no comment about being able to pin the button on her jacket herself. Her hands were warm and toasty in their gloves and Rhett was far more used to the Montana chill.
He brushed the long curls that covered her right jacket lapel over her shoulder. It was only her imagination but his fingers seemed to linger on her hair. She stood still while he bent to pin the button on her jacket. As she breathed in the woody scent of his aftershave she realized she’d made the wrong decision. Frozen fingers were a far better option than having Rhett so close she could see the laugh lines fan from his eyes and the long length of his lashes.
“There you go. You’re all set.” His hands lowered to his side but he didn’t step away.
Chest tight, she gazed into his face. His words were light but his eyes were dark. The snow falling around them thinned and the lights and sounds of the Stroll returned, bringing with them reality.
“Thanks,” she managed, her voice sounding husky even to her own ears.
He nodded and dug his gloves out from his coat pocket. The cold must have rendered his fingers clumsy because he took a long time to pull on his right glove.
*
“Where would you like to start?”
Rhett prayed his words emerged coherent and calm and didn’t reflect his struggle to keep his hands off the woman in front of him.
“Maybe we could walk up Main Street and come back via the other side to look at the lights and decorations here in Community Pa
rk?”
“That makes sense.”
He jammed his left glove on and willed his testosterone to settle. Ivy needed a friend not a cowboy with one thing on his mind. Even if she stared at him, her hazel eyes luminous and her pink lips parted, he couldn’t repeat their mistletoe kiss. Ivy might think cowboys weren’t scared of anything but she was wrong. The stronger his feelings grew for her the more fear settled deep into the pit of his stomach that the bond between them could be a substitute for what she’d lost with James. Time is what she needed to heal and time would provide an opportunity for perhaps something real to develop between them. So instead of obsessing about kissing her, he needed to find a way to make her stay longer than just for Christmas.
He hesitated then offered her his arm. Kissing her might be off the table but a companionable amble down a very busy and public Main Street would be fine.
She tucked her hand around the crook of his arm.
“Christmas Stroll here we come.”
His jaw clenched. There was no reason why such a simple action of her taking his arm should make his heart pound like a little drummer boy’s drum in his chest.
They retraced Ivy’s steps past her parked car and as they turned onto Main Street, she stopped, her eyes round.
“I can’t believe how beautiful the town is. Look at those lights draped above the street like pitched circus canopies. Even the lampposts have garlands and red bows. I’m in decoration heaven.” She firmed her grip on his arm and led him forward. “Come on, let’s go and take a closer look.”
He slowed their pace with a grin. “What’s the rush? We have all evening. If we go too fast we’ll miss something.”
He ignored his inner voice that said prolonging the time he spent with Ivy had nothing to do with making the most of the Stroll activities. And as they entered the throng of revelers, he wished it wasn’t only their pace he could control. If he could have slowed time, he would have.
The delight on Ivy’s face and the way she’d squeeze his arm and lean in close made him wish Main Street didn’t end at the courthouse. When he was with Ivy grief didn’t bite so hard and the world seemed a brighter, more hopeful, place.
Her Mistletoe Cowboy Page 8