Darn Good Cowboy Christmas (26 page)

Raylen arrived early with a bottle of Austin's watermelon wine. He was freshly shaven and smelled so good that Liz wanted to forget the lasagna, chicken Parmesan, and even the tiramisu for dessert and take him straight to bed. He wore starched and creased Wranglers stacked up perfectly on top of polished boots. His baby blue ironed shirt matched his eyes, and his big silver belt buckle was polished to a high shine.

“Can I take your hat?” Liz asked.

“Depends on what you intend to do with it.” He removed the black felt dress hat from his head, tucked the bottle of wine under his arm, and finger combed his dark hair.

“I'll turn it upside down right there on the coffee table, and I promise I won't stomp it or sit on it,” she said.

He handed it to her. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you, darlin'. I've seen what you can do to a man's good hat.”

“What's that?” Blaze asked from the doorway into the living room.

Raylen handed the wine off to Blaze and slipped his arm around Liz. “She's got a hell of a temper. She threw my hat on the ground and then stomped it.”

She looked up at him, opened her mouth to say something, and he kissed it soundly before she could utter a word.

“That's one way to shut her up, but she'll have her say or die, so it won't last long. That's the Latina in her.” Blaze chuckled. “Thanks for the wine. Watermelon? I've never tasted that kind.”

“I had to beg for that bottle. Austin wanted to send a bottle of Granny Lanier's because she's sure it's a good vintage. But I made her give me a bottle of her first year's crop to celebrate tonight.”

“That's so romantic.” Tressa walked up beside Blaze and took it from his hands. “I've only had it a couple of times but I really liked the flavor. It will go well with tonight's supper.”

Raylen slipped his arm around Liz. “Thank you. Colleen said she'll be along in a little bit. She wasn't through primping and I have an idea she wants to bring her own vehicle tonight.”

Liz scanned Blaze from boots to hair. He wore black Wranglers, boots, and a black shirt with two buttons open at the neck. A small drop of blood on his chin gave evidence that he'd shaved in that hour he'd spent in the bathroom, and his blond hair was feathered back with dew drops still clinging to a couple of hairs. She hoped Colleen wore a heavy sweater and a thick bra. Looking at Blaze was going to cause worse problems than icy wind going through a thin shirt.

“You two are certainly a couple of handsome fellers tonight,” she said. “I suppose you've noticed that there's mistletoe over every doorway, and I don't know about Colleen, but I damn sure do not intend to waste any of it.”

Blaze grinned, and his cat eyes glistened. “Thank you very much, Lizelle. And I forgot to tell you that the house is beautiful. It ought to be on one of those house tour things that they talk about in Amarillo.”

“What I like most is that arrangement on the mantel,” Tressa said. “Mother would have liked having a nativity in the house. She liked the spiritual side of the holiday and Poppa likes the silly side.”

Raylen hugged Liz up to his side and squeezed. “What about you, darlin'? What do you like?”

“All of it. Nativity, Santa Claus, and we're doing the Chicken Fried in a country Christmas theme and I can't wait to do that too. You going to help me?”

“How cute is my butt?” He blushed scarlet. He hadn't meant to say the words out loud but to whisper them for her ears only.

“Cutest one in the house tonight. Don't look at us like that. It's an inside joke,” Liz told her mother, Tressa, and Blaze.

The two tomcats weren't circling each other anymore. They'd reached a territorial understanding, but it didn't come with one hundred percent trust. Raylen's fear was doublefold: that Blaze in all his worldly charm would break his sister's heart and that he would convince Liz that the carnival needed her worse than Raylen did. Blaze wasn't afraid of Lucifer himself. But Liz had to have told Raylen about her best friend's womanizing, and that alone would make Raylen want to put Colleen in the nearest convent. And that scared the bejesus out of Blaze.

“Thank you,” Raylen said.

“You look pretty damn fine yourself, sweetheart.” Blaze jumped in with a compliment.

Raylen wanted to kick himself. “She always does. She wore this the first time she came to Sunday dinner at my folks'. I thought she was a gypsy princess.”

“She is.” Blaze smiled. “You two go on in the living room and sit with Marva Jo. Tressa and I will finish up in here. I still have a few adjustments to make to the table. I need to put out glasses for the wine.”

“He cooks?” Raylen whispered on the way to the living room.

“Yes, he is a chef in the kitchen and he's a neat freak and even does his own ironing because a laundry wouldn't to it to suit him.”

“No wonder the women love him,” Raylen said.

She shrugged. “Hadn't thought about it that way, but you are right.”

Marva Jo caught the last of the conversation and pieced the rest together. “Liz does not cook. She knows how to do laundry and hates to iron. I made her learn so that she
can
do it. She had no choice but to keep things neat, but it's not by nature like it is with Blaze. It was by necessity because we lived in a small trailer.”

Raylen sat down and hugged Liz up close to him. “You tryin' to scare me off?”

Liz patted him on the knee. “He's not a neat freak, but he's not sloppy. His biggest problem is that he's organized and a perfectionist.”

“Then he'd better reconsider a relationship with you,” Marva Jo said.

“It'll take more than that to scare me off,” Raylen told her.

“How does Colleen fit into the picture? She's your sister?” Marva Jo asked.

“We are peas in a pod, but she only cooks when she has to. Momma made all of us at home in the kitchen. Boys had to learn just like girls, but she also made sure they were able to run a ranch just like the boys. Goose and gander law, she called it. What was good for the goose was good for the gander. In the O'Donnell household, there is no division of men's and women's work.” Raylen made lazy circles on the palm of Liz's hand with his thumb.

Liz vowed she'd get even later. It wasn't fair for him to heat her to the boiling point with nothing but his thumb, and right there in front of her mother. Oh, yeah, Raylen was going to get his just due.

The doorbell rang, and Liz started to hop up, but Raylen held her hand tightly and yelled, “Blaze, would you get that door?”

Liz shot him a look and he grinned at her. “Us guys got to stick together.”

Marva Jo asked Raylen a question about Danny Boy, but Liz didn't hear his response. She was too busy watching Blaze and Colleen's interactions. Colleen wore a green skirt that stopped at her knee, a snug little sweater that barely made it to the waistband of the tight fitting skirt, and brown cowboy boots. Everything about her complimented her red hair and her clear complexion. And everything about her appealed to Blaze, who took her hand and led her to the kitchen.

“That's not fair. Why does she get to go to the kitchen?” Liz whispered.

Marva Jo shook her finger at Liz. “You've got all the pie you can eat right here in this living room, my child. Let Blaze have his in the kitchen. I guarantee you that Tressa won't let them do one thing more than I let you two get away with.”

“Why do I feel like I'm sixteen and on my first date?” Liz asked.

Marva Jo smiled. “Next time we'll send Blaze over there to pick her up.”

Liz giggled. “That sounds like a plan.”

Blaze yelled from the kitchen, “I heard that last remark. Colleen has invited me over to her place to meet her parents tonight and to see those two famous horses. So don't be feeling all superior in there, sweetheart.”

“Children, children! Forgive them, Colleen,” Tressa said. “They've acted like siblings since the day I brought Blaze to the carnival. Marva Jo, bring your wayward daughter to the dinner table. We are ready to sit down.”

***

Liz jerked the top sheet up over her and Raylen. A fine sheen of sweat covered them both, and the afterglow that surrounded them was almost as hot that night as the sex had been. She reached across the foot of bed space between them and clasped his hand in hers. How in the hell could she have ever doubted one second that she belonged in Ringgold? Raylen was her soul mate and Ringgold her home.

“That was fantastic. Good night, darlin',” she said breathlessly.

“Always is,” he panted. “But I'm not spending the night.”

“Why? Momma and Aunt Tressa are in their trailers.”

“Did you want Dewar to catch us last night?” he asked.

“No!” she said quickly.

“I rest my case. I'm trying to show your momma and aunt that I'm one of the good guys, not a bad boy who's only out for a romp in the hay, so as soon as my legs get bones in them, I'm going home.”

She smiled at his expression. It was the same one she'd used the night before. She reached under the covers and walked her hand down the fine line of dark hair from his chest to his belly button and down to his penis.

“What if something else gets a bone?”

He rolled over but she hung on. He tickled her ribs, and she grabbed his hands with hers. In one swift movement he was off the bed and on his feet.

“You don't play fair,” she said.

“That would be the pot calling the kettle black, darlin'.” He slipped his arms into his shirt and picked up his underwear.

“Don't put them on. I like commando,” she said. “You come commando to my party on Wednesday and I will too.”

“Hell, no! I wouldn't be able to think about anything else all night. I have a helluva time every time I conjure up a picture of you in one of those dancin' outfits,” he chuckled.

She sat up and wrapped the sheet under her arms. “You think Colleen made Blaze's trailer rock and roll?”

Raylen blushed. “Liz, she's my sister! God, I don't even want to think about that.”

“You are her brother. You think she doesn't know we've been to bed? Hell, she was the one who warned us last night. Maybe they're out there in the horse stall next to Danny Boy using our blanket,” she teased.

“Don't go there,” Raylen said crossly.

She whipped the sheet back and jumped out of bed, put her finger under his nose, and said, “Don't you talk to me in that tone. I was teasing you.”

“Don't tease me about my sister. If you had a brother, would you want me to tease about him sleeping with Becca?”

She took a step forward. “That's different.”

“How?”

“She's a witch. Blaze is just a womanizer.”

“Which makes it all fine and good? My sister is infatuated with a womanizer, but since that's his only fault that makes it just fine?” Raylen said.

She folded her arms over her naked body and glared at him. “Go home. I guess I can't tease you. You can't take it.”

He finished dressing, shoved his feet down in his boots, and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. She threw herself back on the bed and pouted for five minutes before the tears started.

It was over. Raylen would never speak to her again. The whole reason fate let her come to Ringgold was so she could get Colleen and Blaze hooked up. It had nothing to do with her own happiness. Life wasn't fair.

Oh, hush your whining! You think you are the only one who is unsure of herself in this relationship? What about Raylen? You are a carnie and your whole carnie family is surrounding you right now. Ever think that he might be scared you'll go with them when they leave?
Her conscience raked her over hot coals.

She wiped her eyes with the edge of the sheet and sniffled. “I'm not leaving. He's not running me off. I'm staying right here because it feels right,” she said stoically. “But if Raylen isn't the one—” She broke down and wept again, burying her face in his pillow, inhaling the remnants of his aftershave. That made her cry even harder.

She couldn't call Blaze because he was probably romancing the hell out of Colleen and she wouldn't disturb that, but she sure needed a friend. She finally slung her legs over the edge of the bed, grabbed the first nightgown in her drawer, and put it over her head. She pushed her feet down into her cowboy boots and grabbed the truck keys from her purse, leaving everything else behind.

At the end of her lane she made a sharp left and gunned the motor the next mile, sliding around the O'Donnell lane and fishtailing on the gravel before she got control. She kept the speed down the rest of the way to Raylen's house, only to find the door locked. She rattled it until the window threatened to break loose when he didn't answer the doorbell immediately.

Finally he slung it open and stood before her in nothing but a towel. His wet hair stuck up every which way, and water dripped onto the floor.

“What do you want?” he asked gruffly.

She slung the door open and he took two steps backward. “Don't you ever leave in the middle of a fight. You stay until we settle it and then have makeup sex with me like we did in the shower that time, but don't you just walk away.”

“You told me to leave.”

“Well, I damn sure didn't mean it. You are supposed to stand up and fight for us if we are important enough. Are we, Raylen? Or are you tired of me already?”

“Don't you dare accuse me of being tired of you. I've wanted you since we were kids, dreamed about you, thought about you, and measured every other woman by the impossible yardstick you put in my mind. So don't you dare say I'm tired of you. I won't ever be tired of you. Maybe you just want to go back to the carnival and this is your way of doing it. Fight with me so it'll make it all right,” he said.