A Cowboy for Christmas

by Lori Wilde

  The tears she’d been trying not to shed came in a hot rush of shame.

  Lissy wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Warm and comforting. She rocked her gently. “Shh, shh. It’s okay. Rafferty survived. He’s a strong man, a great guy. He turned out just fine.”

  “He turned out to be a better man than Jake.” The sobs wracked through her, shaking her bones. “Oh, Lissy, can you ever forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing for me to forgive. Rafferty is the one you wronged.”

  “I know, but I had to tell you too. I had to make you understand why I acted the way I did that day in the park.”

  Lissy waved a hand. “Water under the bridge.”

  “I thought . . .” Claudia drew in a shuddering deep breath and accepted the clean tissue Lissy pulled from her pocket. When she was a young mother, she’d kept tissues in her pocket at all times. Little boys could get so messy.

  “You’ve been beating yourself up for years. There’s no need for me to do it too.”

  Claudia dabbed at her eyes. “So what happened between you and Rafferty?”

  “He had to go home.” Lissy’s voice was light, but Claudia could hear the pain in those words.

  “I thought . . . I heard . . . You seemed . . .” It was tough for her to say this. “Happy with him. You haven’t been happy in a long time.”

  “Things with Jake and me . . .” Lissy shook her head. “It started good but turned out bad.”

  “I know. I’m sorry for that too.”

  Then they were both crying and hugging each other and in that moment of grief, they accepted their losses, forgave each other their mistakes, and made way for future tears of joy.

  Home looked strange.

  Rafferty hadn’t realized how arid the ground was here. How barren and desolate. He thought of Jubilee. Of the cowboy-friendly town and the warm people he’d met there. His stomach contracted. He thought of Lissette and Kyle, and a rare homesickness, unlike anything he’d ever felt, crept over him.

  He tried to shake it off. Lissette had told him that he couldn’t trust what he was feeling. That their attachment was nothing more than the very human attempt to douse their sorrow in each other’s bodies.

  It sounded logical. Rational. And life had made Rafferty a practical guy, but he couldn’t help wondering, What if she’s wrong? What if what they were experiencing was a true, honest, and enduring love?

  His chest tightened as he turned into the driveway. Horses galloped in the field, following his truck. The pain in his chest intensified, pushed into his throat. The ranch hands were going about their daily chores. One cowboy was hitching horses to the circular walker. Another was saddling a high-spirited mare. A third was unloading sacks of oats from the bed of a pickup.

  Home.

  Loneliness blew through him. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. Yes, he was home.

  Why, then, the utter desolation rolling around his heart?

  He pulled to a stop, surveyed the ranch house. Wind eddies stirred the dust. He got out. The sun beamed down on him. December in Southern California was almost as warm as August. He’d never missed the changing seasons before, but now his mind strayed to Jubilee and the coming snowstorm that had been predicted as he’d driven out of town.

  Winter should be cold, he decided, at least now and again. It didn’t have to be Montana cold, but a little weather, like the kind they had in North Central Texas, seemed just right. A pleasing blend of winter and warmth. Not the constant, unchanging temperature of Southern California.

  Guillermo came across the yard, moving his hands a mile a minute in greeting. Boss! You are back! he signed.

  I’ve got a new horse, Rafferty signed in return, and walked around to the back of the trailer.

  Cutting horse? Guillermo’s hands questioned.

  Rafferty met his ranch foreman’s eyes and spoke as he signed. Normally he didn’t do that with Guillermo but he’d gotten into the habit of it with Kyle. “What else? I’ve been in the cutting horse capital of the world.”

  Guillermo rubbed his palms together like a hungry man about to dive into a banquet.

  Rafferty opened the back door of the trailer.

  This is good, Guillermo signed. Robert Redford is directing a new movie about cutting horse cowboys. Just got a call from the studio.

  “Hear that, Slate?’ Rafferty told the stallion. “Sounds like there’s a good chance you could become a movie star.”

  Slate nickered as if it sounded like a good idea to him.

  How’s business? he signed to Guillermo as they unloaded Slate.

  Good. Good. His foreman proceeded to give him a full accounting of what had gone on in his absence. One horse had been sick, but recovered. He’d had to put one of the trucks in the shop and it ended up costing less than expected. The ranch dog, a beautiful golden retriever named Lacey, had had her puppies six weeks ago, and the seven unruly puppies were getting into everything.

  Once they finished getting Slate settled in, Guillermo led him into the house and showed him the books. Under Guillermo’s management over the past six months, with only minor long distance input from Rafferty, the ranch had turned a significant profit. Much more than what Rafferty usually coaxed out.

  “How?” he asked.

  Guillermo informed him of some ingenious cost-cutting methods he’d instituted. He’d also worked with a director to create a video trailer about training opportunities to coincide with the latest movie one of Rafferty’s horses appeared in. It was a smart move. They’d had a tenfold increase in the amount of people asking to have their horses trained at Harmony Ranch.

  “Looks like you don’t need me at all,” Rafferty said, feeling a little taken aback. Honestly, he thought he’d find things in a bit of shambles since he’d been gone for so long. Of course, he’d known Guillermo was more than competent. What he hadn’t expected was that his foreman would do the job better than he did.

  How was Texas? Guillermo asked in sign language. How is the boy?

  “He’s doing well.”

  Guillermo nodded, signed, You helped him and his mother.

  “If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have been able to offer them anything.”

  You’re the one who took the time to learn sign language, Guillermo messaged with his hands.

  That was true, but if he hadn’t learned how to sign, would he have been able to get so close to Lissette? Maybe in this case, his skill at sign language was a liability, except he couldn’t regret being able to draw the boy from his shell. Kyle had bloomed while Rafferty had been in Jubilee.

  He exhaled. Time to let Lissette and Kyle go. His place was here. “How are Heather and Dane?”

  Guillermo shrugged.

  “They haven’t been around?”

  Guillermo pulled a computer printout from the desk, passed it to Rafferty. It was Heather’s grades from medical school and Dane’s grades from his sophomore year in college for the fall semester. Straight A’s. Both of them. He’d have to take them out for a big celebratory dinner.

  Things were changing on the ranch, and damn if Rafferty didn’t feel like he’d been left behind.

  Chapter Twenty

  Lissette tried to tell herself it was going to be okay. Once she got Rafferty out of her head, her life would finally be in balance again. She and Kyle would develop a new routine. Her business was going well. Her son was happier. She had two hundred thousand dollars in the bank, and it was all due to Rafferty. She owed him a debt of gratitude. It felt good standing on her own two feet. She felt strong.

  But she missed him.

  Several times, particularly when Kyle did something noteworthy, or she learned a new word in sign language to practice with him, she wanted to call Rafferty and share the good news. She managed to squelch the impulses. She did not want to stoke hope. If he got home and realized—as she feared he would—that what they had was really nothing more than a sweet illusion, she would not be crushed. This was the best way. If it was meant to
be, then he would come back, and if it wasn’t, she might as well start the separation process now.

  She kept her head down and stayed busy. It wasn’t difficult. Mariah was putting on three weddings in December. Plus she had plenty of holiday rush orders for her pastry business. Her Web site was getting over a hundred hits a day. Kyle had gotten accepted into a deaf school in Fort Worth, where he’d start classes in January, attending three days a week. Things were good.

  Even so, she couldn’t stop thinking about Rafferty. Every time she glanced out the window at the garage apartment, her heart would catch.

  Let it go.

  Easy to say. Hard to do.

  The days sped toward Christmas. She tried not to think about it. Tried not to wonder if he’d show up for Christmas Eve or not. She wondered why she’d set up an Affair to Remember time clock. Yes, it was one of her favorite movies, but she didn’t need to relive it in her life. It had been dumb to set a time limit on love.

  But that was just the thing, wasn’t it? Was it really love? Or was it nothing more than raw emotions? She’d needed someone and he’d been there. Rafferty needed to feel useful and Lissette had needed someone to fill the void in her life. It had worked for a while, giving them both what they required, but it wasn’t something they could base a long-term relationship on.

  Two days before Christmas, another snowstorm hit. She and Kyle holed up in the house together. They’d played games and communicated with sign language and then her son signed, Rafferty?

  Gone, she signed back.

  Like Daddy?

  That had knocked her down. He had understood that his father wasn’t coming back. She thought he hadn’t been affected by his father’s absence. He was young and Jake had been away so often. She hadn’t imagined that he ever remembered Jake.

  No, she signed. Not like Daddy. Daddy died.

  Kyle had looked hopeful and signed, Rafferty and home.

  He went to his home, Lissette explained.

  Kyle’s face clouded and he shook his head.

  Rafferty’s home is in California. She got out a map. Pointed out Texas, then California, even though she knew he was too young to understand the concept.

  Her son’s eyes narrowed. “Home,” he spoke. “Here.”

  That got to her. Her son understood far more than she’d given him credit for. She shook her head. “No.”

  Kyle had thrown a tantrum then. A normal boy, almost three now. She’d let him cry it out. What else was there to do? She couldn’t make promises she couldn’t keep.

  After his tantrum, Kyle fell asleep on the couch. Lissette got up and went into the kitchen to make pastries. She had orders piling up, but even so, she put aside time every day to work with Kyle.

  She made piecrust dough with ice-cold apple cider vinegar instead of water, her secret weapon for the perfect piecrust. She sprinkled flour over the marble slab kitchen island, her mind flashing with memories. She thought about the day he’d first shown up at her door. The first time Rafferty had kissed her. She reached up to touch her lips and closed her eyes.

  Rafferty.

  She could taste him now as she’d tasted him then. Robust. Rich. Real. Except he was gone. She’d sent him away because if he stayed he would never know if it was for the right reasons or not. She’d had no options. No choice.

  She washed her hands at the sink, wondered where he was. She rolled out the pie dough, pressed it into a nine-inch Pyrex baking dish, preheated the oven, got out the ingredients for the filling of Giddy-up Pecan Pie. It had become her top-selling pie.

  Once the pies were assembled, she put them into the oven to cook, stepped to the faucet to draw a glass of water. She cast a glance out the window and saw in the gathering darkness the Christmas cactus that Rafferty had given her. That day after Claudia had come to confess what she’d done, Lissette had hung the cactus from the branch of the pecan tree. She’d intended on bringing it into the house once she’d seen her mother-in-law off, but she’d forgotten about it.

  “It will bloom at Christmas,” Rafferty had said. “And you’ll remember me.”

  Except she’d left it out in the snowstorm. Emotion pushed her from the kitchen and out into the backyard shadows.

  The cold wind hit her, blowing snow up her apron, but she scarcely noticed. Her attention was focused on the potted plant hanging from a low branch of the tree. She ran toward it, her pulse pounding, but she knew before she ever got there what she would find.

  The cactus had frozen.

  It was dead. Stiff. The leaves brittle and darkened.

  Tears sprang to her eyes.

  Oh, this was dumb. Crying over a plant.

  Except it wasn’t just any plant. It was the plant Rafferty had left for her. The plant represented their relationship. It was supposed to have flourished and bloomed by Christmas. But she’d neglected it. Allowed it to die, just as she’d severed the precious connection between herself and Rafferty.

  Don’t give up hope. Don’t give up hope. He could still come back.

  She clenched her jaw, blinked back the tears, and cradled the Christmas cactus in her arms. She’d lost so much. What was one more thing?

  Lissette.

  Her name throbbed through Rafferty’s brain.

  Lissette.

  He had to have her. No obstacles mattered. She was the one he wanted to be with. He loved everything about her. Her smile. Her bravery. Her work ethic. The way she mothered her son.

  Lissy.

  His love.

  It felt as if he’d just been waiting for her all his life. Wasting time until he could find her. Why had he walked away? He couldn’t begin to imagine why he had ever gone, but he couldn’t wait to get back to her.

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, almost called her, then put it back and smiled to himself. No, no. He’d surprise her. It would make for a romantic moment when he walked into the house on Christmas Eve. He had the back of his truck stocked full of gifts. For Claudia and Joe and Mariah and Jonah and Cordy and Ila and the rest of his new friends. For Kyle he had a golden retriever puppy in a crate beside him. A puppy to whose collar he was going to tie a big red bow on Christmas morning.

  And Lissette.

  He had a very special gift for her. Anxiety bit him then. Was it too soon? Offering her an engagement ring?

  What if she’d changed her mind? What if she decided that what they had was ephemeral?

  Except it wasn’t ephemeral. It was true and deep. Yes, it had happened fast. It had happened amid tumult and turmoil. Yes, she had been his brother’s wife. Yes, she had a child with special needs. But when you found the right one you could not allow fear to hold you back. You had to seize life with both hands and take a chance.

  And this trip back home had shown him what he hadn’t been able to see all these years. His siblings were no longer children and he no longer had to assume the parent role. They were fine without him. He could let go of the need to be needed. He could expand fully into himself. He wouldn’t be able to do it without Lissette. She’d accepted him for who he was. She never saw him as a castoff. That was a label he’d put on himself. He could let it go. It was all past, and the past no longer had the power to define him.

  He was free.

  He could start fresh in Jubilee.

  Rafferty threw back his head and laughed out loud. Too bad there were so many miles between them. He should have flown, but he’d loaded up his possessions and he was pulling them in a trailer behind him. Ready to take the leap, make the move.

  He pressed harder on the accelerator. If he got a ticket for exceeding the speed limit, he’d pay it gladly. What was a speeding ticket when the most wonderful woman in the world was waiting for him in Texas?

  He was going to give her the very best Christmas Eve ever.

  The miles rolled by.

  He crossed the border, entering Arizona at eighty miles an hour. He had Christmas music on the radio and he was singing along with “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” as loud
as he could sing.

  Lissy. His sweet dandelion.

  The more he thought about her, the wider his smile grew. He could smell her. That sweet, yeasty aroma of baked goods. The undeniable scent that spoke of home and hearth and love.

  “I’m coming, Lissy. Don’t give up on me.”

  It was dark outside now. If he drove straight through, stopping for nothing but gas, he would be there in time to read Kyle a bedtime story before tucking him in bed on Christmas Eve. He’d never felt so happy in his life.

  The moon shimmered off the road. He wondered if Lissy was looking up at the same moon that was guiding him home to her. He liked to think that she was.

  “I’m coming, Lissy. I’m coming.”

  It was one A.M. on the day of Christmas Eve and he was about fifty miles outside Phoenix when he saw the car on the side of the road. A beat-up old Ford sedan. A haggard young woman was leaned against it. She had a baby on her hip. His headlamps caught her and she shaded her eyes. She waved, flagging him down.

  Rafferty slowed.

  If you stop, you might not be able to get to Jubilee in time. You’ll have to give her a ride or try to fix her truck.

  But how could he not stop? What if that was Kyle and Lissy broken down on the side of the road? What if it was an Amelia and her little Rafferty?

  That got to him. He remembered all the times one of Amelia’s shabby vehicles had given up the ghost. More times than he could count. He remembered how scary it had been. Broken down. Not knowing who or what was going to stop and offer you a lift.

  He had to stop.

  Disappointment pinched his stomach. It was okay. It would be all right. He would call Lissy when he finished helping this woman. It might take the edge off the surprise, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her watching the clock, waiting to see if he was going to show up in time to keep his promise. He would not hurt her like that. He’d call and tell her that he was on his way and he’d be there by Christmas Day.

  It would be all right. She would understand. She was an accepting woman. It was one of the things about her that he liked most. She accepted things as they were and went about dealing with them to the best of her ability. Admiration for her replaced disappointment.