Courage To Fall (Cowboys of Courage 3)

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Courage To Fall (Cowboys of Courage 3) Page 6

by Charlene Bright


  She was already headed toward the plates on the table and called back, “I’m not that picky.”

  They had a good rapport, and it made him smile as he grunted under the weight of the boxes. He hadn’t expected them to be heavy, and he wasn’t a manual labor sort of guy. He’d played tennis in high school, and he’d run track for a year, but that was the extent of his athletic experience. There had been no weightlifting, no football or baseball, no wrestling. Albeit, the weekly racquetball games with his associates was good for him.

  He spent the next half hour assembling the presents and was surprised to work up a sweat. By the time he finished, he found Leah filling up a large table with cupcakes, the icing green and red with little angel ornaments. “Those are beautiful.”

  “Thanks. There are five different flavors here. I didn’t have any of the other three left.” She turned to face him. “Are you up for sweeping and mopping and cleaning tables?”

  He held out his arms and bowed. “If that’s what you need from me, then I’m game.” She presented him with cleaner and a rag, and he wiped down the booths and chairs. He followed up with the broom and mop, leaving the place sparkling.

  “I’m impressed,” Leah said. Easton was, too. He hadn’t known he had it in him. “There are only two things left to do.” She pointed to several tables. “I need six of these lined up against the back wall. The rest I want in two long lines like banquet tables.”

  Easton got busy and Leah worked with him, getting the job done in just a few minutes. Brushing his hands together, he asked, “What’s the last thing?”

  She sighed. “You can’t help me with this one.” She walked off toward the kitchen, and he followed her, curious. The smell hit him like a brick wall, and he sniffed the air with longing. She had two turkeys roasting in the industrial ovens. “I have to carve the turkeys.”

  He laughed, the sound resonating from deep in his chest. It was rare he was genuinely amused to this degree, but she seemed to have a knack for it. “You’re right about that. With your meal presentation, you should be running the kitchen at a high priced restaurant on Broadway. I guarantee I can’t compete with you when it comes to carving a turkey. I can, however, carry the damn things. I’m sure they weigh a ton.”

  She nodded. “Thirty pounds each, to be exact.” Easton choked, and she smiled reluctantly. “There are a lot of people out here who don’t have good meals very often. We eat all we want at the party, with the pot luck sides and desserts everyone brings, and the rest I chop up for turkey salad sandwiches. Tomorrow, two of my best employees will take them out to the trailer park and all the rundown houses just outside of town and deep in the woods, where all the poor families live, and they’ll deliver as many as each household needs for a good meal at no charge. Your grandmother had a name for it. She called it ‘Leah’s Labor of Love.’”

  Easton didn’t know if he could handle any more of these surprises. Of course, by now, he shouldn’t be shocked by any generous offering from her, but he was completely taken aback by this one. “And you don’t have a 501c3 nonprofit license?” She shook her head. “You could get government funding for things like that, to pay for the food and the volunteer effort.”

  But she scowled. “That would take all the joy and satisfaction out of it for me. I want to just do it. I don’t want any money, whether it goes to the effort or lines my pocket.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you.” He shut his mouth, donned the oven mitts, and pulled out the two foul beasts. They were definitely the largest turkeys he’d ever seen. “I’m sorry, Leah. I’m a businessman, so that’s the first thing my mind goes to. I just can’t get over how much you do for other people. You’d think someone would return the favor.”

  Her smile was sad now and didn’t reach her lovely eyes. “Trust me; I’ll make a killing in presents today. I won’t keep them all. There’ll be a lot of them that I don’t like, so those will go to some sort of charity. But most people bring me something, usually a couple of somethings because they know they’ll walk away with more than one gift.”

  On a whim, he asked, “If you could request one gift, and money wasn’t an obstacle, what would you want? Think of it as a wish from a genie or Christmas magic from Santa.”

  Chapter 9

  The diner. Leah’s first thought went to the only thing she didn’t have that she wanted. At least, the only material thing. But she couldn’t tell him that. After all the help he’d given her, she refused to push any buttons in case it caused him to back off, or worse, take back his promise to keep the place open.

  One other thing did come to mind, and she swallowed hard as emotions rose in her chest, nearly choking her. “When I buried my mother, I was a little selfish. I wanted the trailer, so I got a beautiful headstone for her grave but not the one I really wanted her to have. I would ask for that headstone, with the removal of the other one and the installation of the new one included.”

  She’d hit a nerve, and he didn’t meet her gaze. She kicked herself for not thinking about the fact that he, too, had buried his parents. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he spoke first.

  “What does it look like?”

  It was hard to describe, but she could picture it still in vivid detail. “It was a large raven, her favorite bird, standing about five feet tall with an eight foot wingspan, and carved in one giant piece black and shiny obsidian. All the details were intricate, and the wings curled around as if protecting the grave, or maybe picking up a soul to cradle it with love.” She sighed. “It was hand carved and no two are exactly alike. There aren’t very many of them produced. I tried to look for it a few years ago, and it had to be special ordered. The price was…prohibitive.”

  That was a very mild word. She would have had to save up her entire salary for three years to afford it. She expected him to laugh at her, but he simply nodded a somber expression that made his dark eyes look like vast chasms.

  “It sounds beautiful.” He was quiet for a moment and then added, “I didn’t choose anything. My parents planned ahead for everything. They’d already purchased their burial plots, caskets, and headstones. It made things easier on me, but it also didn’t really give me closure.”

  He moved toward her, and she braced herself, her body stiffening. But he put his arms around her and just held her. She let him tuck her head under his chin and wrap her tightly in his embrace. He smelled like pine needles and citrus musk, and it was soothing.

  “We’ve both had it hard, but I’ll admit your life has been much harder.” She started to pull back and argue, but he held her firmly. “Don’t deny it. You lost your mother and had no one, and that wasn’t your choice. I chose not to find other family. And you have always had a budget, a certain dollar amount that can’t be broken. I’ve had practically limitless resources. I could have accomplished so many of the things you have without struggling at all, but you fight to make sure everyone is taken care of.”

  Easton chuckled, his chest rumbling and bumping up and down against her. She didn’t know what else to do because he wasn’t releasing her, so she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I really am a selfish son of a bitch sometimes. Okay, most of the time. I have a lot to learn from you.”

  Leah couldn’t let herself get lost in the tender moment. Even if she could have more of these with him, it would only be for a few days, and then he’d be gone. She’d be lonelier than ever, and she’d feel cold in a way that couldn’t be repaired. Letting go of him, she squeezed her hands between them and pushed against his chest until he finally loosened his grip, and she could slide out of his arms.

  “Is something wrong?”

  She hated the hurt she saw in his eyes. “No, I’m just not used to being comforted. The last person who really did that was my mother. It’s been fourteen years.”

  He didn’t give her pity or sympathy, only sorrow. “That’s not okay.”

  She shrugged and turned away from him. “I’m used to it, and it’s not like I can change that.”

/>   “I know this is your home, but have you ever considered moving somewhere else and starting over? Even somewhere nearby where you could have a wider social circle,” he suggested.

  But she staunchly refused. “I know you have this old fashioned idea that women are codependent, but I don’t need a man. There are times when I think it would be nice to be with somebody, but it’s not really a priority. I don’t have the desire to leave Courage.” Was he trying to talk her into coming to New York? Sure, he mentioned somewhere near Courage, but maybe that was just to ease her into the thought of crossing the country and landing in a place where she wouldn’t be able to tell north from south.

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he said, calling her out. “You keep finding ways to make me seem like an ass, but I’m just exploring ideas that might strike a chord and enlighten you to what would really make you happy.”

  He seemed sincere, but she didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to believe anything about this man was truly good because it would make him more attractive. And in the end, when he left, it would just hurt her more.

  “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just drop it, okay?” She huffed and dropped into the only chair that was in the kitchen. She still had to carve the turkeys, but she had plenty of time for that. It was just past noon, and the guests wouldn’t start arriving until two. What the hell was she going to do here alone with him for another two hours? It sounded like forever, especially when their banter was suddenly becoming very personal conversation.

  As if reading her mind, he pointed to the birds on the counter. “How long will it take you to carve both of those?”

  Looking over her shoulder, she considered them again, assessing the size and difficulty level of each. “It won’t take more than twenty minutes, tops. And that’s if there’s a breastbone that doesn’t want to crack. Why do you ask?”

  He didn’t answer right away, a sheepish grin crossing his face. He suddenly looked very young, and she could almost picture him as a boy, seeing the childlike expression on him now. His hair had been a little longer, locks sweeping over his forehead, she thought. And he’d had a gap between his front teeth – just a small one. “I thought maybe we could talk about my grandmother. Going through her things makes me wonder what she was really like, and I’m sure you can paint a good picture. Besides, I like listening to your voice.”

  Leah laughed heartily. “You must be joking. My voice annoys me. I can’t imagine you would enjoy it.”

  But he shook his head. “I’m serious. You’ve got a way with words, and your tone is easy to listen to. Don’t you know the voice you hear in your head is different than what everyone else hears?”

  She knew that, but she didn’t think anyone else actually liked her voice. Still, she shrugged. “I don’t mind. I like talking. Everyone in Courage can vouch for that. But let’s go out there, where we can both sit. I’ll brew some fresh coffee for us.”

  She wanted the coffee, but it was also an excuse to get a little separation from him as he left the kitchen. He watched her so intently, as if she was the most unique, intriguing thing on the face of the planet. Leah had to believe he had women all over him all the time. So why did he seem to want her company? Was he just that bored and lonely away from his busy, social life in New York?

  It didn’t matter. He’d forget her the moment he left, with the exception of business. They would have to stay in contact about the diner, unless by some miracle he sold it to her…or left it for her. She was dreaming now; he’d already said he was a businessman, and that meant he wasn’t about to just hand over something worth as much as this restaurant.

  She poured the coffee and carried the cups and the decanter into the dining area. Finding him in one of the booths, she came to an abrupt halt, nearly spilling the drinks for the first time in the sixteen years she’d been working here. He looked so delectable, leaning against the wall with his legs kicked up on the seat and crossed at the ankle. His posture was vastly different from his usual uptight attitude. He was truly relaxed and comfortable, and it showed her another side of him that she hadn’t thought existed.

  And wasn’t sure she wanted to get familiar with.

  She moved forward before he noticed her hesitation, sliding the tray on the table. Sitting across from him, she made herself just as comfortable. As he sipped his coffee black, she added creamer and sweetener to hers and asked, “What would you like to know about Ms. Daisy?”

  He was thoughtful for a moment before asking, “Why do you call her that? Why not Ms. Brooks or just Daisy?”

  That brought a smile to her face as she remembered being a small child, eating here with her mother, when the whole thing started. “Do you know that old movie, Driving Miss Daisy?”

  “I remember it vaguely. Jessica Tandy and Morgan Freeman, right?”

  She nodded. “And Dan Aykroyd. Anyway, way back when, Daisy did what I do now, managed the restaurant, and she had a cook named Karl. Well, your grandmother didn’t exactly bark orders, but after your grandfather died, Karl would tease her to keep her from getting too depressed. One day, I guess it was a couple of years after the movie came out, it was really busy, and Mama had brought me in for an ice cream sundae. I was thoroughly enjoying it and your grandmother was talking to the people at the table behind me. They were from out of town, passing through, and they were angry that they didn’t have their food yet.

  “Your grandmother called back to Karl loud enough he could hear her over all the guests out here. She said, ‘Hey, Karl, you got table twelve’s order coming up next?’”

  Leah tried hard not to laugh, wanting to get through the story first, but it was too hard, and she had to speak through giggles. “Karl didn’t miss a beat. He called back, ‘Yes-a Ms. Daisy, I be getting’ it’. He sounded so much like Morgan Freeman in that movie it was crazy, and everyone in the diner—the wait staff, the locals, your grandmother, and even the couple from out of town—burst into laughter. From that day on, she was Ms. Daisy.”

  Easton was laughing almost as hard as she was, and with each question he asked, she had a story to tell. Some were funny, others inspiring, and some sad, but Leah shared everything she could. And she was glad she’d set a timer to remind her to go carve the turkeys, or she would have forgotten, lost in the memories.

  Easton followed her, watching her work. It should have made her nervous or uncomfortable, but she liked the way his eyes felt on her. “Was my grandmother as good a cook as you? Be honest.” He spoke so quietly that she barely heard him.

  She didn’t turn around, and she tried to figure out the best answer. “In some ways, yes, and with certain dishes, she was better. But I have my specialties, too.”

  “From what I’ve tasted, you’re amazing. You haven’t made anything yet that wasn’t the best I’ve ever had.” The compliment made her stand up straighter, and she was far prouder than she had any right to be. The words came from the depth of his soul, and that meant a lot coming from someone who had probably spent a lot of money and time in gourmet restaurants.

  “I really appreciate that,” she said, finishing the last of the second turkey. “All done.”

  He was beside her in an instant, carrying the first turkey into the dining area. He hesitated, lifting a brow at her in question. “Where are these going?”

  She pointed to the center of the buffet line they’d created against the back wall. “Right there.”

  He set it down and went for the other, placing it right beside the first. “Is that everything?”

  She nodded and looked at the clock. “That’s it. I’m going to unlock the front door. People should start filtering in any minute now.” And for once, she wouldn’t be completely exhausted when she greeted them, thanks to Easton.

  Chapter 10

  The mood was festive, and every guest wore a grin that didn’t fade. The food was delicious, just as Easton had expected, and he tried to keep up with Leah as she spoke to everyone, wanting to meet her friends and the peop
le who had known his grandmother. He had trouble remembering most of the names, but he locked in on Garrett and Shakota Woodward, the sheriff and his very pregnant wife, and a couple of others.

  He actually enjoyed himself, and he grew anxious as the time for opening gifts came around. Leah delivered them in rounds, going down each line at the tables until everyone had opened one present, and then she stopped to open a few of hers before digging into the enormous pile under the tree to hand out another to each of her guests.

  Easton loved the sheer joy on all of the faces, and it seemed that she was quite intuitive in discerning the best presents for all of her friends. Just like she was with everything. At the end, there were still four gifts under the tree, and Easton frowned as Leah reached for three of them.

  She handed them to Shakota. “I couldn’t leave out Baby Woodward, could I?”

  With tears in her eyes, Shakota opened the packages, finding little white onesies and socks in the first, swaddling blankets in the second, and several toys that included rattles and musical stuffed toys and early readers in the third. The woman stood abruptly and hugged Leah so tight Easton thought she might pass out from the inability to breathe, and Garrett had to pick up the chair that had fallen over in Shakota’s swift movement.

  “Hey, Leah, is that last one for me?” That came from the deputy sheriff, whose name he couldn’t remember. “I could use a little extra something this year.” There was laughter, and Leah rested her hands on her hips with a playful attitude.

  “You’re a greedy little son of a gun, aren’t you Maynard? What makes you think I’d get you extra gifts? Santa told me you were on his naughty list, so you should be grateful I got you anything at all.”

  The laughter rumbled louder as Leah bent to pick up the last gift, wrapped in pretty silver paper with a beautiful gold ribbon. “This one is a last minute gift, so I don’t want anyone to make fun of it, okay? It’s very personal and very special, but from what I’ve heard, it’s going to be useful and probably necessary to someone who can’t take care of himself.” Her eyes met Easton’s, and he stared in shock. What the hell was this? She winked at him. “I told you I hadn’t bought anything for you because I didn’t know you’d be here. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have the perfect gift for you.”

 

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