Cowboy Under the Mistletoe (5 page)

Did she really want to revisit either of those places again?

She stared down at the vellum cards and thought of all the weddings she’d attended, of the tiny unacknowledged ache to find her own true love.

Faith was right. She needed to explore this thing with Jake and put the issue to rest once and for all.

“Hello, Allison.”

Deep in thought, Allison jumped when Faith’s mom, Ellen, trudged into the room wearing blue scrubs, a testament to her nursing job. She wiggled her fingers and padded on silent white shoes down the hall and out of sight.

“Your mom looks tired,” she said as Faith returned, bearing a white invitation.

“Eight twelve-hour shifts in a row take a toll.”

“Ugh. Poor woman.”

“No kidding. I’m glad I went into teaching.” With the teacher shortage in Oklahoma, Faith had easily found a new job in Oklahoma City for the spring semester. “I’m filling out this invitation right now, and I want you to hand-deliver it.”

Allison returned Faith’s grin, though hers was filled with trepidation. “That’s easy. I’m going over there when I leave here.”

“Cleaning Miss Pat’s house is a great excuse to see Jake.” Faith pumped her eyebrows.

“Helping an elderly neighbor is not an excuse to see Jake. Stop it!” Allison bit her bottom lip. “I would help Miss Pat even if Jake wasn’t there.”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t enjoy your little trips nearly as much.”

True. Painfully true.

She watched Faith write Jake’s name in her beautiful script. “Do you think he’ll accept?”

Faith slid the card into the envelope and held it out like an Oscar win. “Only one way to find out.”

* * *

He shouldn’t be here. He should get in his pickup and drive out to Manny’s.

Jake looked at the spread of vegetables on the kitchen counter and considered sticking everything back in the fridge. Then he could shut off the stove and walk out. Allison would be here any minute.

“Jacob?” Granny Pat’s voice wafted in from the living room. “Honey, did you buy cheese for the baked potatoes? Bring me a slice. I haven’t had anything but prison food in so long, I’m hungry as a starved wolf.”

At the request, Jake resigned himself to letting Allison help him cook dinner. Granny needed this, no matter how hard it was on him.

He took a chunk of cheddar to the recliner where Granny Pat had pretty much lived since coming home. Earlier, the home nurse had gotten her up and walked her to the bath, a trip that had worn her out and torn a strip from Jake’s heart.

“Here you go.” He went to his knee beside her chair. “Anything else?”

“No, baby.” She patted his hand. “You’re such a good boy.”

The comment made him snort. “Is your memory failing you?”

“I remember everything I want to.” She grinned her impertinent grin. “You were always a good boy with a big soft heart. That’s why you acted up after your mama left. And you had a right. She broke your little heart in half.”

Jake’s muscles tightened. He didn’t think about his mother much anymore. “I always wondered why she left.”

“I know you did, son. Leaving you was wrong of her.”

That was the only explanation he’d ever received. His dad was barely cold in the ground before his mother packed her bags and drove away in an old Buick. “Do you ever wonder where she is?”

Granny Pat’s winkled face saddened. “All the time, baby boy. For a long time I thought, once she’d grieved your daddy, she’d come back for you.”

But she never had. And he’d grown up with a big, gaping hole inside, waiting for his mama to come home and fill it with love.

“I’m not complaining. You took good care of me.”

She’d done her best. In between work and her grief over the loss of a son, his grandmother had done all she knew to deal with a sad little boy and later, a wild teenager. Still, he wondered what might have been.

Outside a car door slammed. Jake shook off the uncomfortable nostalgia and jerked to his feet. “Allison’s here.”

“Ralph thinks you’re still sweet on her.”

He tried to laugh her off. “You want to get me killed?”

“You’ve been trying to do that yourself for years.”

A man with nothing to lose made a good bull rider.

At the knock, he ignored his grandmother’s keen insight to let Allison in. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” She shoved a bag at him. “Put this in the kitchen while I bring in the casserole.”

“Casserole?”

“Mama’s chicken spaghetti.”

Granny Pat’s voice sailed across the room. “I love that stuff.”

“I thought we were cooking.” Jake looked over one shoulder. “I already put the steaks in the oven.”

“For tomorrow,” Allison said. “You know how Mom is. She still cooks for an army in case one or two of us kids drops in. She had an extra and I ‘borrowed it.’”

Karen Buchanon had fed him for years when he’d tagged along with the four Buchanon boys. Now, he was as grateful as he’d been back then, and the throb of longing was every bit as raw.

He set the bag of what appeared to be cleaning supplies on a table beside the door and followed Allison to the Camaro. Wearing a tan skirt and crisp white shirt with a collar, her flyaway hair bounced as she walked. He liked her hair, itched to touch the silk of it and wanted to kick his own tail for even thinking about her that way.

He had to stop this. Had to stop it now.

His longer stride caught up to her quickly. “Did your mother know you were coming over here?”

“She was going to bring the casserole herself. I volunteered.”

“She must not know I’m home.”

Allison shrugged. “She wasn’t wild about me seeing you, but I make my own choices and she knows that. Besides, she and Miss Pat go way back.” She handed him the still-warm container. “Mom takes care of her friends.”

Right. Karen Buchanon would visit Granny Pat even if her grandson was Ted Bundy.

“Neither of you mentioned this little errand of mercy to your brothers, did you?”

“You’re cranky today.”

“Did you?”

“No. They might do something stupid. They’ve been threatening—” She stopped halfway to the house and slapped her hands on her hips. “I want this to stop. You got me to admit my brothers still hold a grudge, and I didn’t want to go there. Does that make you happy?”

With her face tilted toward his and her brown eyes snapping, she was cute as a kitten. Adorable and off-limits.

“Happy? Hardly.” But exactly what he’d expected. Not what he’d hoped for or even dreamed of, but exactly what he deserved.

She hadn’t intended to discuss her brothers. He could see that and understood. Now, she was furious, both at herself and him, for opening up the sore topic.

Unlike Brady Buchanon whose temper was renown, Allison’s fury wouldn’t last long. She was too good, too generous, too kind. And she was tearing him apart.

Resigned to spend the evening fighting memories, he led the way into the kitchen where the smell of broiling steak overpowered the small space.

“Better check this,” he said and peaked inside the oven. “Looking good.”

So was Allison.

He watched her move to the outdated sink and glance out the window toward the darkened backyard.

“Remember that time we grilled steaks for Dad’s birthday and the dog ate yours?”

He smiled at the memory. At the woman. “You gave me half of yours.”

“I could never eat a whole one anyway.” She gazed around the room. “Where’s the steak sauce and all the fixings we bought?”

He wished she wouldn’t say
we.
It sounded way too cozy. “In the fridge.”

“Okay.” Allison went to the refrigerator and pulled out sour cream, cheese, butter, steak sauce and bacon bits and set them on the small round kitchen table where he and Granny Pat ate their meals. The wooden top was scarred from the number of times he’d done school projects in this kitchen with Granny Pat’s assistance. He never wanted to minimize what his grandmother had done for him. She’d been there when his mother had refused to be.

What was wrong with a kid that his own mother could walk out and never call, never even send a birthday card? For years, on his birthdays, he’d thought for sure she would remember him. She never had.

Memories were thick as swamp mosquitoes tonight.

To break his runaway thought train, Jake opened the overhead cabinet and eyed the questionably clean plates. “Should I rinse these off?”

“Have they been washed since you’ve been here?”

“First home-cooked meal.”

“Better rinse.” As he reached for three white plates, she moved from the table to his side. “I have something for you.”

He set the plates in the sink with a clatter. “For me?”

Allison held a white envelope toward him.

Puzzled, he accepted the fancy envelope. As he did, Jake examined the rise of pleasure, the unspoken need to reconnect with things better left alone. Hadn’t he just been thinking about a birthday card, though his birthday was long past? “What is this?”

“Open the envelope and see for yourself.”

Curious, Jake removed a pretty scripted invitation and read. His belly dropped to his boots. “Are you serious? Faith is inviting me to her wedding?”

“Don’t say no, Jake. Please come.”

He shook his head, though his chest expanded with want and hope. “You’re crazy.”

“And your steaks are burning.”

He whipped around to remove the meat, clattering the pan onto the stove top. Sizzle and fragrant smoke filled the air.

With a growl, he said, “I told you I couldn’t cook.”

“Which is why I’m here. Put the steaks in the warmer. I’ll make salad and rinse the plates. You get Miss Pat ready to pig out. We’re going to fatten her up.”

There she went again, using the
we
word. He closed his eyes and gave his head a little shake. If Allison insisted on coming around on a regular basis, something was bound to explode. Either him or her brothers, and neither was a pretty thought.

He shoved the white envelope into his back pocket.

Inviting him to a wedding with all the Buchanons and half of Gabriel’s Crossing? Was she insane? Did she want to ruin her friend’s big day?

This new adult Allison was even more of a Pollyanna eager to fix the world than she’d been as a teen.

And she was killing him. Absolutely killing him.

Chapter Five

J
ake’s tenderness with his grandmother brought a lump to Allison’s throat just as being here caused a twinge of disloyalty. Mom hadn’t been pleased, though she’d relented for the sake of Miss Pat. Still, Allison couldn’t help feeling guilty. Was Faith correct? Was Allison using Miss Pat as an excuse to see Jake?

The three of them sat at the scarred table with Miss Pat on a pillow to cushion her bony body against the hard surface. Jake had carried her to the chair with her hair freshly brushed and wearing a silky Dresden-blue bed jacket. She reminded Allison of a tiny snow-capped bluebird.

“Your robe is beautiful, Miss Pat.”

“Jacob bought it when I first went to the hospital. I had to have something decent. Imagine a wrinkled old lady like me wearing one of those silly gowns with the naked behind.” She made a face. “Better yet, don’t imagine it.”

Allison’s mouth trembled with a smile. “He has good taste.”

“That’s what Ralph said. I have a feeling he was a dab jealous of his own grandson. Ralph never bought me anything this fancy. But then, he was a skinflint.” She whipped her napkin into her lap. “Yes, you were, Ralph. You know I’m telling the truth.”

The conversation with Ralph brought a momentary lull as Jake and Allison exchanged glances.

“Well, Jacob. Are you going to pray or sit there and make goo-goo eyes at Allison?”

Goo-goo eyes? Oh, for crying out loud. Jake spent most of his time glaring at her and trying to run her off. Couldn’t Miss Pat see that?

A dull blush darkened Jake’s face. He rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond to his grandmother’s outrageous comment.

“Do you mind if I say grace?” he asked, his camo-green gaze holding hers steady.

“Really?” Jake Hamilton wanted to pray?

His sculpted lips softened into a smile as he shared the good news that he’d become a Christian. Allison’s heart jitterbugged with the energy of a 1950s teenager. No wonder he seemed different.

“Changed everything,” he said.

“I’m glad, Jake. Thrilled.” Beyond delighted.

For Allison, faith had always been a given. She’d grown up in church, and though there were times she struggled to understand why bad things happened, she believed with all her heart in the goodness and power of Jesus. But Jake hadn’t been raised to believe. The fact that he’d converted, and that his grandmother had noticed, was huge. As he said, it changed everything.

The one fly in her romantic fantasies about Jake had been his lack of faith.

Oh, my. This was wonderful and scary and promising.

And she was out of her mind.

Allison dropped her head and squeezed her eyes shut as Jake’s low rumble asked the blessing on the meal.

Please,
she prayed.
Let this make a difference to my brothers.

She prayed this would change things between Jake and her family. The Buchanons had taken Jake to church on occasion, but he’d never embraced their faith. Until now. Surely, the brothers would forgive him now. Wouldn’t they?

All through the meal, hope rode Allison’s shoulders like a winged creature. Buoyed by the good news, she teased conversation out of Jake and relished Miss Pat’s feistiness. The meal lingered for much longer than required to eat the simple food. Dishes were pushed aside and elbows propped on the table as they caught up on the years apart.

Something inside Allison centered. She’d missed their friendship, their talks and hanging out. She may have crushed on Jake as a teenager, but he’d been her buddy, too.

“You’re tired, Granny Pat,” Jake said when the older lady began to nod.

Miss Pat’s head snapped up. “I know it. Silly old body of mine.” She pointed a bony finger toward the cheese. “Cut me a slab of that, will you, honey? It’s from IGA.”

“You mentioned that earlier, Granny Pat,” Jake said gently.

“I told
you,
not Allison. Stop acting like I’ve lost my mind. It makes me and Ralph both mad enough to spit.”

Allison caught Jake’s eye as she sliced the cheese. Miss Pat’s body might be weak but there was nothing weak about her spirit.

“With your spunk, Miss Pat, you’ll be back on your feet before Christmas.”

“You got that right, honey.” She waved the cheese at Jake. “Take me and my cheese to my room. I’m done in.”

“Yes, ma’am. At your service.” He scraped back his chair and tenderly lifted his grandmother. “You sure smell pretty.”

“You sure tell tall tales.” She patted his cheek. “Love you, Jacob.”

He kissed her cheek. And Allison melted like chocolate on s’mores.

To get herself under control, she leaped up and began clearing the table. She hadn’t intended to linger like a lovesick kid. Faith was to blame—Faith and her matchmaking ideas and her wedding invitation.

She glanced at the clock, saw the time was already growing late. She hadn’t even begun cleaning the house, a promise she intended to keep.

Not that she minded another trip or two. As long as her brothers didn’t know.

She scraped the dishes and put them into the dishwasher, thinking about the grown-up Jacob. In the years in between, he’d developed a cowboy swagger. He also hid his feelings better than he had as a boy, so that she was not quite sure where they stood. Not like before when she’d read him as easily as a Pre-Primer. The adult Jake was more controlled, too, not the wild, impulsive kid who’d vandalized a Buchanon construction site after the accident that had left Quinn with a crippled arm. And if his care for Miss Pat was any indication, he was even more tenderhearted, a trait he covered with attitude and silence. Beneath his rodeo-tough exterior, he’d always been a marshmallow, though her family didn’t see him through her eyes.

From their dinner conversation, she’d learned about his rodeo career and the bulls he kept at Manny Morales’s ranch. She’d also learned from a slip by Miss Pat of the Wyoming woman he’d almost married. Her heart had stopped beating on that one, though Jake had laughed off the reference and refused to discuss it.

“You should go on home.”

She glanced over her shoulder to see the handsome cowboy enter the kitchen. He looked good in the faded-blue chambray shirt and old jeans, his dark hair trimmed and neat, his shoulders and arms muscled by hours of training. A lean teenager had gone away. A heartbreaker had returned in his place.

“I haven’t cleaned yet.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t push me out, Jake. You know I won’t go back on my promise to Miss Pat.”

“She’ll understand.”

“I wouldn’t.”

He came across the room and took the salad bowl from her hand, his voice low. “Why are you playing with fire when you know we’ll both get burned?”

“Rebellion is in my blood.” She gave him a perky grin and stuck the meat tray in the sink.

“Your brothers wouldn’t like it if they knew you were here.”

“Since when have my brothers run my life? You know me better than that. They didn’t then, and they don’t now. Especially now.”

“I don’t want to stir up trouble, Allison.”

“Are you calling me trouble?” She took a step closer, challenging.

His nostrils flared. “What do you think?”

“I think we can be friends again. Like before.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. The air between them shivered with possibility.

Did the tough bull rider remember that night? That first and last kiss?

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he murmured.

The truth in his statement was a stark reminder that people had been hurt, including the two of them. “I don’t either. That’s the whole point, Jake,” she said softly. “Hurt never goes away unless we choose to release it.”

He was standing really close, and she could smell the faint scent of aftershave and steak sauce, a funny combination but pleasantly male. She wanted to walk right into his arms and see if they fit together the way she remembered. Though he’d only kissed her once, she’d never forgotten, and now she understood why. Faith was right. Every boy had been compared to that one defining moment. Compared and rejected. Jake had always been the one.

Oh, my. Life had suddenly become much more complicated.

“I wish letting go was that easy,” he murmured, near enough that she read the wistfulness in his green eyes.

“Come to Faith’s wedding.” Suddenly, she wanted him there with all her heart. Somehow, together, they’d find a way to make things right again.

His laugh was a short bark. “Yeah, like that’s going to fix everything.”

“Being there might be a start.” She touched his arm. “Please. I want you to come. You have a right to be there.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked beyond her toward the window above the sink. When his gaze returned to hers, the green eyes held a look she didn’t understand, but he said, “Let me think about it.”

That was as good as she was going to get, and Allison decided to take hope and run. Let him fret over the invitation. Let him wonder what it would be like to be back among friends who’d helped shape his childhood. Let him yearn for something more, in the same way she had yearned for him, though until this moment, she’d not acknowledged that longing.

“Think about the invitation all you want as long as you show up at Faith’s wedding with your dancing shoes on. Now, grab the Windex and a rag. These dirty windows are killing me.”

He shook his head. “You’re an impossible optimist.”

“Yeah, but you like me,” she said with a cheeky grin.

He tugged a strand of her hair. “Got me there.”

And that little admission fueled her determination to make things right between Jake Hamilton and the Buchanon clan.

* * *

Several days later, Jake thought the freezer was well stocked with casseroles, the laundry was caught up and the killer windows gleamed. But Allison showed up at six-thirty anyway. As always, he made a halfhearted attempt to send her home but she called him grumpy and sailed right inside.

He had to admit her company was a welcome break from worrying over bills and his grandmother. And yeah, he looked forward to the moment each evening when a little bundle of sunshine lit up his day. As long as the Buchanon brothers didn’t give her grief, he could deal with the other issues. He didn’t want her hurt again, and whether she admitted it or not, she had been. He’d done enough damage in this town.

“What did you do today?” she asked, frowning around the somewhat cluttered room. He’d picked up his socks and put away the dishes. Wasn’t that enough?

“Besides aggravating my grandmother until she ran me off?” He cast a look toward the chair where Granny napped. “I took a drive out to Manny’s while the nurse was here.”

“How are they?” Allison tossed a tiny shoulder bag onto the couch and made herself at home. “I haven’t seen them in town in a while.”

“They’re good.” He patted his pocket for his cell phone. “I need to give Paulina a call. She invited us out for dinner, but Granny isn’t up for the travel.”

“I will be soon.” Jake and Allison turned toward Granny Pat whose sharp gaze rested on them. “Why don’t you two kids run on out there without me.”

Jake shook his head even though his heart had done a weird stutter step. Exactly the way it did each time he eased down on the back of a bull. “What about the casserole I set out of the freezer?”

“I’ll eat it. You won’t have to worry about feeding me.” She shooed him with a skinny, pale hand. “Go on now.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“This is my house and I want you out for a while. All this moping around gets on my last nerve.”

Allison snorted. Jake shot her a scowl. “What are you laughing at?”

“You. Come on, cowboy, before she throws her Sudoku book at you. I want to see your bulls, and pig out on Paulina’s enchiladas.”

“Who’s going to heat her dinner?” As much as he liked the idea of getting out of town, he was careful not to leave Granny Pat alone. And hanging out with Allison was like a death wish. A really pleasant one.

“Flo can use a microwave. Not much else, but she’s a whiz of a nuker, and she’s on her way.”

“I thought she was in Florida on the beach.”

Florence Dubois, which he was certain was a stage name, was Granny Pat’s longtime friend, a former Las Vegas showgirl with legs like stilts, big hair, and abundant cosmetic surgery.

“
Was.
When she learned I’d finally escaped from prison, she fired up the Winnebago and headed back to Gabriel’s Crossing.”

“Carson Convalescence is not a prison.” He’d made that statement so often, it had become as automatic as blinking.

She flapped her white speckled hand again. “Whatever you want to call my confinement, I’ve escaped, and Flo is coming over, and you’re going to leave us alone for a while. Get moving.”

“Well.” He stacked his fists on his hips.

Granny Pat chuckled. “No excuses, Jacob. Go. Enjoy. Paulina cooked and a woman doesn’t like to be stood up.”

Jake turned to Allison. “What are you grinning about?”

She laughed aloud. “Grab your hat. You’ve been tossed out.”

“Not the first time,” he muttered.

The woman didn’t realize what she was doing, or if she did, she didn’t care.

“My car or your truck?” Allison asked.

“You gonna let me drive your Camaro?”

She snorted. “How about if I drive your big old truck instead?”

“Nobody drives my truck.” But he grabbed his hat and followed her out the door.

The ride to the Double M Ranch was bumpy, short and quick. With country music as background and safely out of Buchanon radar range, he let down his guard and listened to Allison rattle about Faith’s wedding plans, the big building project out in Willow Creek, a place he didn’t even remember, and a hodgepodge of other topics. She jumped from one thing to another like a fluffy little bunny. That’s what she reminded him of. Cute and full of energy and soft. He slammed the gate on the last thought. Allison and her softness were off-limits. She was way more than cute. Beautiful. Kind. Warm as a Texas summer.

They could be on friendly terms, as long as her brothers didn’t get involved, but he wasn’t about to think beyond friendship. As soon as Granny Pat was settled, he was out of here. Let sleeping dogs lie, and escape as soon as possible.