Courage To Fall (Cowboys of Courage 3)

by Charlene Bright

  He sighed heavily. “Listen, I don’t want to impose if you really want to be alone, but I think it might be nice to spend Christmas morning with someone, and as it turns out, I enjoy your company. We can meet at the diner, and I’ll even make you eggs and toast. It’s not much, but it’s my specialty, and it means you won’t have to cook.”

  Leah stared at him in resigned silence for a long time, and Easton cursed himself for bringing it up. She wore the same expression his mother used to when she was suspect that he wanted something.

  “Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?” she asked finally.

  He smirked. It was the first predictable reaction she’d had to him. “I told you already, I like you, and I enjoy your company. I was bitter and closed-minded about coming here, and I won’t lie and tell you I think everyone in this town will prove me wrong. But it seems like there are some truly good, intelligent people, here. So, I’m adjusting my attitude as you requested.”

  * * *

  Fourteen years. In fourteen years, she’d never accepted an invitation to Christmas morning. Of course, she hadn’t had many offers, but those that had come to her weren’t of any interest.

  So why was she so excited at the prospect of spending tomorrow morning with Easton? It didn’t make a lick of sense and she wanted to kick herself for considering it. She should shove her head in an oven for doing more than weighing the possibility.

  “I don’t have presents to exchange with you,” she hedged.

  He chuckled. “I don’t care. That’s not the point of getting together. It’s about companionship, being with other people. Christmas is a family holiday, and I’m feeling the holiday spirit more than usual.”

  Leah couldn’t even count Easton as a friend at this point. She barely knew him, and at least half of the things she knew went against all her principles. He was greedy, cocky, in too much of a hurry, and disrespectful. On the other hand, he was making apologies, and he’d been a perfect gentleman all day and evening. He’d handled Ms. Daisy’s things with care, and he’d even asked her out on a date. She felt like he meant it when he said he liked her and was willing to give Courage a chance.

  She didn’t even know why she was thinking it over because she had her mind made up. “Alright, let’s do it. And if you feel like hanging around, you can help me prepare for the potluck in the afternoon and join the gang.”

  He looked a little suspicious. “What do I have to do?”

  “I’ll put you on cleaning and lifting duty. We’ll need to move some things around in the diner, and I need the floor and tables spotless. I’ll probably have you help me arrange everything on the buffet table, too.” She tried to run through all the things that would have to be done, excited to have help for the first time in all the years she’d been doing it. “Oh, and you can get all decorative arranging presents under the tree.”

  He winced. “I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just make sure the wrapping paper colors are all mixed up and stuff. Out of everything I do, Christmas presents are the one aspect that should be disorganized.”

  “Gotcha. I can do chaos.”

  With that, Leah stood and grabbed her bags. She really did need to get a little sleep if she wasn’t going to roll around in bed till nine or so. “I’ll have the back door open for you at eight. I don’t want anyone wandering in by accident through the front, thinking we’re open for business.”

  She walked to the door, and Easton pushed to his feet to follow. “I had a nice time with you, Leah, especially considering the circumstances. And thank you for your help.”

  “Just remember, we aren’t done yet,” she warned him. “There’s a lot left to do, and I’m sure Bertram’s going to be getting in touch with both of us after Christmas.”

  He leaned against the doorframe as she looked up at him, and his face was much too close as he gave her a devastating smile. “And don’t forget our date. It looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together while I’m in town.”

  Leah swallowed hard, nodding, trying to gather her words. “I hope you don’t get tired of me too soon.”

  “I’m starting to think I could never get tired of you.” The words were a low growl, and Leah’s heart seized. She couldn’t breathe, and she stepped back before she did something completely out of character. And insanely stupid.

  She cleared her throat and said, “I think we’re going to test that out over the next few days. Get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.” She practically ran to the car, tossing her bags in the back seat before getting in and driving away. She didn’t look back, not wanting to see his expression in the rearview mirror. She couldn’t handle disappointment, and she certainly didn’t want to see triumph.

  At home, she rushed inside. She came home late most nights, but she was usually already in the bath by this time. Exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks, and she decided that, in the interest of getting sleep and being fresh in the morning, she’d just go to bed and shower before she went to the diner.

  Of course, she had no intention of letting Easton cook in her kitchen—and even if he owned the place now, it was still her kitchen. She would cook in the morning. Bacon, biscuits, gravy, and eggs would be perfect, and she might even take the time to make some French toast. She scowled at herself in the mirror as she brushed her hair. If she didn’t stop thinking about food, she’d never get to sleep with her mouth watering. Oh, who was she kidding? Her watering mouth had nothing to do with food and everything to do with the hot city boy.

  She snuggled under the covers and stared at the ceiling, her eyes suddenly wide open as the need for sleep dissipated. In its place rose curiosity. What interest Easton McLendon truly had in her. Was he sincere in his desire to spend time with her, or was he searching for vulnerabilities in her for his advantage? And he seemed to harbor at least a little regret in regards to never coming to see Ms. Daisy. He had no other family, and he’d convinced himself he was content with that, content with his fast-paced urban lifestyle, buried in work and gala black tie affairs.

  And she couldn’t say she was any different. She’d always wondered about her father, and about the possibility of siblings, but she never asked her mother. She never looked his name up on the internet. Instead, she threw all her energy into the diner, into loving Zipper, into holding events and gossiping and getting close to the people of Courage. But Easton was right, and she wasn’t truly content in this life.

  She was as lonely as he was.

  Still, she couldn’t understand why she was attracted to him, compelled to learn more about him. There were so many reasons to dislike him and kick his ass all the way out of Courage. But she sensed a kindred spirit, someone she could spend a lot of time with. He appeared shallow on introduction, but a little time spent with him revealed someone much deeper.

  With a huff, she rolled over on her side. So what if she was interested in Easton McLendon? It wasn’t like she could explore any sort of relationship with him. Just because he was a tease who had invited her to dinner—and Christmas breakfast—didn’t mean he was interested in anything of the sort. Even if he was, he would be headed back to New York soon, probably in less than a week. That wasn’t enough time to start something, and she didn’t like the idea of a long distance relationship.

  She wouldn’t leave Courage, especially for someone she barely knew, and wasn’t delusional enough to think she could convince him to stick around and fall in love with her little town. Determined to let it go and just enjoy herself like any normal woman in her early thirties with no other commitments, she flopped on her other side and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to sleep.

  Chapter 8

  Easton didn’t see a car out front as he pulled up to the diner, and then he remembered Leah telling him to come through the back. With sleepy eyes and a fuzzy head, he drove around the building. Gravel crunched under his tires as he parked behind the exposed building. Nothing else was around aside from
a small field and a grove of trees.

  For a moment, he thought Leah stood him up, finding no car there, either. But then he noticed the back door propped open. He shut off the engine, yawned, and dragged himself into the diner.

  As he approached the door, he groaned. The little witch had arrived early and started a real breakfast that had his stomach clawing to get out and at the food. He smelled bacon grease and something bread-like, and he held his stomach as he stepped up and inside. In the kitchen area, Leah toiled at the stove. Her back was turned, and she hadn’t heard him yet.

  He watched her closely, enjoying her movements. She was so smooth, so graceful in everything she did. Maya, his cook, wasn’t anything like that. She was jerky and hasty in her meal preparation. But Leah looked like an angel and a master at what she did. And she was so calm. He wouldn’t have known she was even breaking a sweat if she didn’t reach up with a rag to wipe her brow once in a while. And the characteristic way she brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead with the back of her wrist, managing to tuck it behind her ear, amazed him.

  She continued moving the spatula to push oil over the top of the frying eggs as she thrust her hand into an oven mitt and pulled down the door, taking out homemade biscuits from the oven. Her ability to multitask was incredible, and he wished more people were privy to the view of her expertise.

  Easton waited until he was sure he wouldn’t cause her to burn herself before clearing his throat and stepping forward. “Good morning.”

  Leah simply looked back over her shoulder in a way that told him she was used to people sneaking up on her, and she didn’t even jump. She smiled briefly before turning her attention back to the food. “Good morning. Merry Christmas.”

  He didn’t know why, but hearing those words from her made his chest swell. “And Merry Christmas to you. I thought I was making breakfast today.”

  Her shoulders shook as she chuckled quietly, barely audible over the sound of grease frying and the vent blowing. “If you thought you were going to come into my kitchen and make breakfast, you don’t know anything about me. I’m a little obsessive about letting people in here. Besides, I wanted more than toast and eggs, so I decided to make it myself. I hope you like your eggs over medium.”

  His mouth watered. “A woman after my own heart.” He stepped a little closer and saw two more frying pans on the stove, one with a very large batch of homemade cream gravy and sausage, and another that made him inhale sharply. “Is that French toast?”

  She nodded, taking it out of the pan and plating it as she spoke. “It’s a secret recipe I’ve used since I learned it from my grandmother when I was six or seven. When I started working here,” she continued, beginning to fill up plates with all the food, “a lot of the food was good. I brought my recipes with me, and when Ms. Daisy let me use them and teach them to her cooks, business doubled, and so did the good word about the café.”

  Easton said nothing, just smiled. Once again, he was baffled. She didn’t need to prove her value anymore. Was she just a storyteller at heart? He had a feeling there was a lot of gossiping around here, and maybe she was just used to talking to fill up the empty space in the air.

  He let her go on uninterrupted as he examined the beauty of the food placement on his plate. She plated items in a decorative manner, like a professional chef in a trendy downtown restaurant, and he thought how wasted her talents were here, in a place where no one would appreciate such care. It was part of the service in swanky eateries, proving to make the food taste better in the mind of the person eating. Here, with Leah, it was just a courtesy, and Easton suddenly felt like he was going to faint if he didn’t get those plates in front of him.

  The toast was garnished with a ramekin of butter and another of syrup, with a small bowl of powdered sugar to suit any taste. Beside it were two perfectly fried eggs, over medium. A separate plate held two biscuits, a small gravy boat just about to overflow, and three slices of bacon finished it off.

  “Could you grab the coffee and creamer?” she asked, balancing all four plates on her forearms. It was difficult for him to stay back. To him, it looked like they were all going to topple at any moment, and he wanted to grab for them. But she took off at a swift pace, her hips swaying and her stride just as graceful as every other movement.

  Blinking to break his concentration on her, he turned to see the tray on the counter with a decanter of coffee, two mugs, a large creamer dish, and a container of various sweeteners. He picked up the tray and followed Leah, though he was less confident and slower. Having never worked in food service, he’d never had to balance anything like this, and he felt like an idiot as he barely managed to slide the tray on the table without spilling it.

  He looked around as he took a seat and really saw the diner for the first time. Leah had apparently gone all out with the Christmas decorations. The tree was in the window by the corner, its colorful lights twinkling. With so many ornaments, it was a wonder the thing hadn’t fallen over. Red and green cloths adorned the tables in a plaid pattern and the entire diner looked like a holiday chess board. And the booths each held green vases filled with beautiful fake poinsettias.

  Streamers in silver and gold hung from the ceiling, and on one wall was a tapestry that had a Christmas greeting. “Are you going to eat?” she smirked, picking up her fork. She poised it over her eggs, ready to dig in, and he couldn’t wait anymore.

  He scooped up a piece of bacon as he poured the gravy over his biscuits. “I was admiring your decorations.”

  She smiled broadly. “I have several elves around here. My employees are always ready to help. Believe it or not, they all volunteered an hour of their time unpaid, and we got it all done in about forty-five minutes.” She was proud of her team, and as far as he could tell, she had every reason to be.

  The bacon practically melted in his mouth, and the rest of the food was so delicious he found it impossible to talk until he’d washed it all down with his first cup of coffee and poured a second. Leah was still nibbling on hers, maybe halfway through her food, and she gave him a knowing smile. “I take it the food’s not bad?”

  He leaned back in the chair, his stomach swollen and bloated from overindulging in the savory meal. “Are you kidding? I don’t think I’ve ever had such a perfectly prepared breakfast. You are a genius, and this was a masterpiece.”

  She beamed, and he was glad he could give her that sense of pride. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  Easton thought this was a good time to bring up something else. “So, I know you said you don’t have a gift for me, and that’s understandable. I don’t need gifts. This breakfast and the invitation to join in your little party later are the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.” She gave him a curious look, and he continued, “I was thinking about it last night when you left, and I wanted to give you something.”

  She instantly started shaking her head. “Easton, I…”

  He held up a hand to stop her. “Hear me out. My grandmother was obviously close to you, and you’ve been a blessing helping me already. I don’t know that I could have handled all of this without you. I don’t know you well enough yet to decide what would be appropriate. Instead, I’ve decided that you should pick out two or three pieces of my grandmother’s things—the antiques—and take them.”

  Her jaw dropped, and the absolute shock on Leah’s face was gorgeous. “I can’t accept that. Those things are yours, and some of them could fetch a fortune in an auction.”

  “I’m aware of that.” He nodded. “But I don’t need a fortune. I would much rather see those things go to someone I know who adores them, who has a history with them and with my grandmother. I’m sure you could tell me stories, hundreds or thousands of them, about Daisy Brooks. I think you deserve to have some of the things she left behind.”

  There were tears in her eyes, but he recognized them for what they were—tears of joy. He didn’t often get the chance to evoke this kind of emotion in someone, and it felt good. “I don’t know what
to say.”

  He smiled. “You don’t have to say anything. Merry Christmas, Leah.”

  She nodded, blinking back the tears and sniffling. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” They fell into a comfortable silence, but eventually, it became awkward, and Easton stood. “So, you wanted me to help out around here. Point me in the right direction, and I’ll get started.”

  She hesitated briefly and then stood, looking lost. With an embarrassed laugh, she said, “I’ve never had help with this before. I’m not sure where to start.” He waited, and her eyes finally fell on the table. “I’m going to clean up breakfast. Follow me real quick.” She led him to a closet in the hallway where the bathrooms were, and when she opened the door, Easton nearly choked. The closet held a broom and dust pan a mop and bucket, and nothing else.

  Except an enormous stack of boxes and bags in every shade one could possibly relate to Christmas. Some were metallic colors, and others were printed, but they were all neatly wrapped or bagged with pretty tissue paper, and he could see tags with names on them. “Damn, Leah, did you buy gifts for everyone in Courage?”

  “Not quite,” she said with a bit of indignation. “I bought gifts for my friends. I collect them throughout the year, as I find something I think they would like, and most of my friends end up with three or four items.” She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I always go into the city the day after Christmas and buy the wrapping supplies on sale for seventy-five percent off.”

  “Smart,” he commented, still in awe of the number of presents she managed to purchase. He seriously needed to look back at the payroll and find out how much she made. He would have to work out a raise. “Unload these under the tree in random, mixed-up colors?”

  “Pretty much,” she confirmed.

  “It’s a good thing I’m not colorblind,” he quipped. . “You’d have me all sorts of twisted up in a pretzel,” he reached for a stack of boxes, “trying to please you and probably doing more harm than good.”