Christmas Kisses with My Cowboy

by Diana Palmer

  “Probably a very . . . good . . . thing,” she agreed as his mouth brushed slowly over hers.

  “Come up here.” He lifted her off the ground against him and his mouth grew gently invasive. “You taste like honey,” he whispered, and smiled against her lips as he drew her closer.

  She smiled, too. She loved the way he kissed her. He wasn’t impatient or demanding. He was gentle and slow and seductive.

  “I like this,” he whispered.

  “Me, too,” she whispered back.

  He drew in a quick breath and slowly lowered her back to her feet. “One step at a time,” he said huskily, holding her just a little away from him. “We could get in over our heads too quickly.”

  She nodded. She was staring at his mouth. It hadn’t been enough. Not nearly enough.

  He read that hunger in her. “Too much too soon is dangerous,” he said firmly.

  She nodded again. She was still staring at his mouth.

  “Oh, what the hell . . . !”

  He swept her close, bent, and made a meal of her soft lips, pressing them back away from her teeth so that his tongue could flick inside her mouth and make the kiss even more intimate, more seductive.

  She moaned helplessly, and he ground his mouth into hers, his arms swallowing her up whole, in a silence that exploded with sensation too long unfelt, hungers too long unfed, passion that flared between them like a wildfire.

  Finally, when her lips were almost bruised, he eased her away from him. His heartbeat was shaking the jacket he wore with his T-shirt. He sounded as if he’d run a ten-mile race, his breathing was so labored.

  She just smiled, all at sea, deliciously stimulated, feeling as if she’d finally taken the edge off a little of the hunger he kindled in her.

  “Well, that was dumb,” he muttered. “Now we’ll have hot dreams of each other every night and I’ll wake up screaming.”

  She laughed. “I’d love to see that,” she teased.

  He laughed, too. “If I do, I’ll phone you.”

  “You could text me,” she said. “Even when I’m at work. I wouldn’t mind.”

  He smiled softly. “You can text me, too, even at two in the morning. I don’t sleep much.”

  “I could?”

  He nodded. He touched her cheek gently. “We have differences,” he said. “My culture is not the same as yours. Even though my father is white, I was raised a Crow, in a Crow community.”

  “I’ll study.”

  He smiled. “That’s the idea.”

  “But whatever the differences, I won’t mind,” she said. Her face was radiant. “I’ll adjust.”

  He nodded. “I know you will. Meanwhile, we’ll try to keep it low-key. Okay?”

  She flushed. She’d started this. “I should probably feel guilty, but I don’t,” she added pertly.

  “Neither do I. Some things are inevitable.”

  “Yes.”

  He drew in a long breath. “Well, I’ll go home and try to sleep. If I can’t sleep, I’ll text you, and you can call and sing me a lullaby,” he said outrageously.

  “I actually know one,” she said. “I used to sing it to Teddie when she was little. It always worked.”

  He brushed her mouth with his. “It will take a lot more than a lullaby to get me to sleep, I’m afraid,” he said.

  “Bad memories?”

  “Very bad,” he said. “And not all from combat.”

  She wondered if his father had anything to do with those, but it was far too soon in their very new relationship to start asking intimate questions about his life. Still, there was one question that kept coming up.

  “Do you have a first name?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Yes.”

  She cocked her head. “Well?”

  His dark eyes twinkled. “We need to keep a few secrets just to make ourselves more interesting.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “If you’re curious, you won’t mind letting me stay around here.”

  “I wouldn’t mind even if I wasn’t curious.”

  “We’ll still wait,” he returned. “Tell Teddie I’ll be here bright and early Saturday for her riding lessons, and that we’ll go to a movie Saturday night.”

  She made a face. “No places to make out,” she complained.

  His eyes twinkled. “That’s not a bad thing. We’ll make haste slowly.”

  She let out a deep sigh. “Okay,” she said.

  He laughed. “We walk before we run.”

  “Some of us are still at the crawling stage, though,” she said with a sting of sarcasm and a big grin.

  He just shook his head. “Good night.”

  “Good night. Thanks for driving us.”

  “No problem.”

  He got in the truck and drove off with a wave. Katy watched him all the way out the driveway before she walked back into the house and locked the door.

  Teddie was waiting in the hall as she started toward her own bedroom.

  “Aha,” Teddie teased.

  Katy’s thin eyebrows arched. “Aha?” she repeated.

  “Your lipstick is smeared and your hair looks like rats nested in it,” Teddie said with twinkling eyes.

  Katy cleared her throat. “Well, you see—”

  “It won’t work,” her daughter interrupted. She grinned. “I like Parker,” she added, wiggling her eyebrows. She went back into her room and closed the door.

  Katy laughed all the way into her own room.

  * * *

  It was two o’clock in the morning. Katy couldn’t sleep. She kept feeling the slow, soft hunger of Parker’s sensuous mouth against her lips, the warm comfort of his strong arms around her. She was restless.

  She heard a buzz. She had her cell phone on vibrate so it wouldn’t wake Teddie. She picked it up and disconnected it from the charger. There was a message on it. Are you awake?

  Yes, she texted back. Couldn’t sleep. You?

  Same, he texted. Suppose you text me the Gettysburg Address? It might put me to sleep.

  LOL, she texted back.

  I had fun tonight, he texted. I don’t go out much.

  Me, neither, she replied. I had fun, too. Teddie mentioned that my lipstick was smeared, she added before she could chicken out and not text it.

  There was a big LOL on the screen. I had lipstick all over my face. Lucky that I live alone, he added.

  She laughed to herself. Sorry about that, she texted.

  I didn’t mind. But you might look for some type of lipstick that doesn’t come off. You know, just in case we can’t help ourselves one night . . . ?

  I’ll go right to the store tomorrow after school and search for one, she replied.

  And the clerk will go right out and tell the whole town what sort you bought, he teased.

  She laughed. Oh, the joy of small towns.

  They’re the backbone of the world, aren’t they? he texted back.

  They are. I’m sorry you can’t sleep. Bad memories?

  Oh, no. Delicious ones. I ache every time I remember those few minutes on your front porch.

  Her heart jumped. She felt exactly the same. Delicious, she typed.

  And addictive.

  Definitely.

  I have no plans to stop, he texted after a minute.

  She felt warm all over. I don’t, either.

  There was a long pause, during which she felt as if he was right in the room with her and she was hungry and thirsty, but not for food.

  Going to try to sleep now. You do that, too, he said. Sleep well, angel.

  She smiled. You sleep well, too. Good night.

  Good night.

  She turned the phone off, but she felt safe and warm and content. She closed her eyes and went to sleep with the phone under her pillow.

  * * *

  “Mom! Mom, we’re going to be late!” Teddie called from the doorway.

  “Late?” Katy sat up in bed, looking all at sea.

  “Late for school and late for work. Late
, late, late!”

  “Oh. Oh!”

  She threw off the covers and got out of bed, groaning when she looked at the clock. She wouldn’t even have time to make coffee . . . !

  “I made you a cup of coffee and put it in your Starbucks coffee carrier,” Teddie added.

  “You sweetheart!” Katy called. “Thank you!”

  “I figured it was the least I could do, considering all the candy I got last night. I had fun!”

  “I did, too,” Katy mused.

  Teddie laughed. “I noticed.”

  Katy threw a pillow at the door.

  Teddie ran, laughing all the way down the hall.

  * * *

  Teddie was waiting at the stable Saturday morning when Parker drove up. Katy, standing at the front porch door, hesitated to go out. She was wearing jeans and a frilly blouse, her long blond hair neatly combed and loose around her shoulders. And she’d found a variety of lipstick that would stick only to her lips and not to everything else. But she was suddenly shy of Parker. She noticed that he looked curiously toward the house before he went into the barn with Teddie to saddle Bartholomew and run Teddie through the basics once more.

  They came back out of the stable, with Parker holding the bridle and Teddie sitting high in the saddle, back straight, arms in, eyes looking straight ahead instead of down.

  Katy was proud of her daughter’s seat when she rode. The child was a natural. She didn’t tense up or watch the ground or even jerk on the bridle. She sat the horse like a real cowgirl, when she’d never done any riding in her little life.

  Parker walked alongside, holding the reins. He had Snow with him this morning, and she was saddled. He spoke to Teddie and handed her the reins, instructing her how to hold them so that she didn’t put too much pressure on the bit in Bartholomew’s mouth.

  When he was satisfied that she was sitting straight, arms in, he nodded and swung up into the saddle and turned Snow so that she and Bartholomew were parallel to each other.

  Katy waved. Parker smiled. Even at that distance, it made her heart race. “I’ll have lunch ready when you get back,” she promised.

  “What are we having?” he asked.

  “Tuna fish sandwiches.”

  He made an awful face.

  “You don’t like fish,” she began.

  “I like tuna fish,” he returned. “I just don’t like most tuna salads.”

  She pursed her lips. “You need to taste mine,” she said. “I put in a secret ingredient.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  He chuckled. “Okay. I’ll try it.”

  “That’s the sign of a man with guts,” she teased.

  He laughed. “And other organs,” he mused. “See you.”

  He turned to Teddie and gave another instruction. Then he went alongside her down the path that led to the road. Apparently, Katy thought, it was going to be a longer ride today. She went back inside to fix lunch. She could put the tuna salad in the fridge when she made it. It would keep nicely until they came back.

  She put pickled peach juice in the tuna, along with mayonnaise and sweet pickles. It was an odd way to prepare it, but she’d learned it from her grandfather, who made the best tuna salad she’d ever put in her mouth. The taste was unique.

  She finished her task and went to watch the latest news on TV.

  * * *

  Parker was riding beside Teddie as they wound around the ranch property. Both were wearing jackets, because there were actual snowflakes.

  “Snow!” Teddie sighed. She laughed as she lifted her face to let the flakes melt on her soft skin. “I love it!”

  “You wouldn’t if you were a poor cowboy who had to nursemaid pregnant heifers,” he teased. “It’s a twenty-four-hour a day job. Even in the snow.”

  “Gosh, ranching is complicated.”

  “That’s why I love it,” he confessed.

  She glanced at him and away. “My mom really likes you.”

  His heart jumped. “I really like your mom.”

  She grinned. “I noticed.”

  “We’re going slowly,” he said. “Nothing intense. We’re taking you to a movie tonight, if you want to go.”

  “Oh, boy!” she exclaimed. “What are we going to see?”

  “That new cartoon movie.” He named it.

  “I want to see that one so much!” she enthused.

  He chuckled. “You make the sun come out, kid. You’re always upbeat, always brimming over with optimism. I’d fallen into a deep place before I met you and your mother. I was so depressed that I didn’t care about much.”

  She beamed. “I’m a good influence, I am,” she teased.

  “You truly are, Teddie,” he replied. “I never thought I’d enjoy teaching anybody anything. But this is fun.”

  She grinned. “It is. I’m so glad you don’t mind teaching me about horses. But gosh, it’s complicated. There’s so much you have to learn, about what not to do. It’s a long list.”

  “You pretty much learn as you go along,” he pointed out. “It takes time to get used to an animal you’ve never been around. But you’re really getting the hang of it. You sit like a cowboy.”

  “Thanks. I love what you’re teaching me,” she told him. She ran her hand gently over Bartholomew’s mane. “I love Bart, too. He’s the nicest horse in the world.”

  Bartholomew actually seemed to understand what she was saying. He turned his head around toward her and made an odd snuffling sound.

  “Smart horse,” Parker remarked. He smiled. “I think he understands a lot more than we believe he does.”

  “He’s so easy to ride.”

  “He’s been through a lot,” Parker said. He didn’t add what he’d learned about the man who’d been so cruel to Bartholomew. It seemed that he’d escaped the abuse charge by daring them to prove it. It had maddened Parker, who knew the man was lying. But it was going to be hard to get any evidence that would stand up in court.

  However, Parker thought, he knew people in the community who would keep an eye on the horse’s former owner and tell Parker anything they learned. It might still be possible to put the man behind bars, where he belonged.

  “You’re awful quiet today,” Teddie remarked.

  He smiled. “I’m just thinking.”

  “You are?” She gave him a wicked smile. “Mom bought some lipstick that won’t come off. The saleslady teased her about you.”

  He felt a ruddy color climb up his cheeks, but he laughed in spite of it. He knew there would be gossip about him and Katy. He didn’t even mind.

  “You’re really nice, Parker,” Teddie added with a fond look. “You and Mom look good together.”

  “Dark and light,” he mused.

  “You aren’t that dark. But you look like a Crow. You really are handsome, like Mom says.”

  He whistled. “She thinks I’m handsome?” he asked, and laughed.

  “I do, too. Now what about trotting?” she replied.

  He jerked himself out of his ongoing daydreams about Katy and they went on to the next step in her riding education.

  Chapter Six

  While Katy was waiting at home for Parker and Teddie to come back, she had a telephone call from the vet who’d treated Bartholomew’s wounds.

  “I thought you needed to know that the man who abused Bartholomew had the charges against him dropped,” he said with some rancor. “He’s friends with the prosecutor, it seems, and since there were no witnesses, they dismissed the case. He’s out again.”

  “He should be tied up in a stable somewhere and doused with recycled grass,” she muttered.

  “I agree. He says he wants his horse back. If I were you, I’d think seriously about getting an attorney. You’re going to need help.”

  She drew in a long breath. “That’s good advice. Teddie’s so attached to the horse. It will kill her if they give him back to that . . . that animal. I won’t let him take Bart. I’ll fight him to the last ditch.”

  “I feel as if I should salute you,�
�� he teased.

  “The army missed its chance when I didn’t enlist,” she said with a chuckle.

  “Well, I just wanted to tell you what happened.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Carr. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. How are Bart’s hooves?”

  “Looking good. We keep them cleaned and the farrier came over again this week to have a look. He says Bart’s healed nicely.”

  “Good news,” he said. “I’ll say good-bye. If you need me, night or day, you call.”

  “I will. Thanks again.”

  She hung up and thought about what the vet had said. She only knew one attorney, but he was very good. Despite her dislike for his relentless pursuit, Ron Woodley was a good attorney who won most of the cases he’d tried; and he was fairly famous, for a young attorney. He was sweet on Katy. It would be underhanded and unkind to play on that attraction, she told herself. Then she thought about Teddie and what it would mean to the little girl to have an abusive former owner try to reclaim his horse. She didn’t know any local attorneys, and she was afraid that if the abuser had plenty of money, local attorneys in a small town might not be anxious to go up against him publicly. She needed somebody high-powered and aggressive in the courtroom. Teddie didn’t like the lawyer, but she loved her horse. Katy thought about that.

  After which, she picked up the phone and made a long-distance call to Maryland.

  * * *

  When Parker and Teddie came up on the porch, both laughing, she felt a sudden pang of guilt. She should have first discussed with her daughter what she planned to do. She had an impulsive nature that sometimes got her into complicated situations. This one would certainly qualify.

  “I’ve got lunch ready,” she said, leading the way into the kitchen. “How’s Bart doing?”

  “Very well, indeed,” Parker said as he pulled out a chair for Teddie and then one for himself at the kitchen table. “His hooves look good. So does the rest of him.”

  “What do you want to drink?” she asked Parker.

  “Oh, a fifth of aged scotch, a magnum of champagne . . .” He grinned at her expression. “How about coffee?”

  She laughed. “That suits me, too.”

  She put the tuna salad on the table, along with a loaf of bread, a jar of mayonnaise, and knives at each plate. “Dig in,” she invited them.