Merry Cowboy Christmas (4 page)

Fiona nodded and kept eating the pie. When her plate was scraped clean, she seriously contemplated another small slice. But then the turkey looked good and the only thing better than pumpkin pie was a turkey sandwich with a thin layer of leftover dressing between the layers of meat.

Everything in the world could turn around on a dime. Jud didn't remember who said that. It could have been someone famous, infamous, or even one of his grandparents, but it came to his mind that night as he stretched out on his bed. The room was spacious with a queen-sized bed, a nice reclining chair, a small desk, and a big closet. It beat the hell out of living in a thirteen-foot cramped travel trailer.

The snow had finally quit falling and now a cradle moon surrounded by stars hung in the sky outside his window. It was the same as it had been last night and would be tomorrow night if it didn't snow or rain. It took a while for the moon to go from full bright to nothing more than a sliver and then make its way back to a big round lover's moon. But then most things took a while. Like getting used to a different bed or getting to know the squeaks and sounds of an old house. Or hearing another person on the second floor of Audrey's Place. The sounds were faint but that was definitely Fiona in the shower; then the door hinges whined and she padded across the floor to her bedroom across the landing from his.

A vision of her naked in the shower tightened his chest and jacked up his pulse. He quickly adjusted the picture in his mind to include a towel wrapped around her body, but that didn't help a hell of a lot. That vision was even sexier than the first one when he slowly let himself pull the towel away and bring her close to his chest, wet red hair flowing down her back, that tiny waist beneath his fingertips.

“God almighty!” He groaned as he jumped out of bed and paced from one end of the floor to the other. Just because they had bedrooms on the same floor did not mean he could go lusting after her. Katy would send him packing out to the trailer or shoot him graveyard dead if she knew what he'd been thinking.

He fought insomnia for half an hour before peeking out the door and tiptoeing down to the kitchen. If he couldn't sleep, then he might as well make himself a turkey sandwich. A full stomach always made him sleepy.

“So you couldn't sleep, either?” Jud asked Fiona when he found her in the kitchen. “You want a turkey sandwich with me?” He stepped into the light and started for the cabinet. “Where's the leftover gravy?”

“What do you need that for?” she asked.

“I make a mean leftover sandwich. A piece of bread with mayonnaise of course—your mama has a loaf that she made at the same time she did the hot rolls. Then a layer of turkey, a layer of leftover dressing, a spoonful of gravy that I'll heat up in the microwave beforehand, and another layer of turkey. I'll be glad to make you one. If you don't like it, I'll eat yours and mine.” He reached into the cabinet for a small bowl to heat the gravy.

“Dressing is in the red plastic container on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator and, yes, I will try your famous sandwich,” Fiona said.

He nuked the gravy and then made two sandwiches, cutting each of them diagonally before putting them on the same plate. “No use in dirtying up extra dishes. Do you cook?”

“No one grew up in this house without learning their way around the kitchen. Is this your only specialty or do you make other things as well?” she asked.

“I can make a delicious bologna sandwich and a fair grilled cheese.”

She bit into the sandwich. “Sweet Jesus! The gravy adds a whole new dimension. I might even like this better than served hot for dinner.”

“Me too.” Jud nodded. “Fiona, if you're uncomfortable with me being in the house or if you want time with your mama without a third wheel being around, I can move into the travel trailer.”

“Don't be so nice. We'll share a house but we won't share stories and start bonding like
my
sisters did with
your
cousins.”

He chuckled and bit into his sandwich. “Well, I'm sure glad we cleared that up.”

He glanced across the table at her and Lord have mercy, in his mind she was wearing nothing but a towel. He blinked twice to delete the picture and focused on the sandwich. What he needed was a Saturday night in a country music bar with loud music, women coming on to him, and lots of beers. That would take care of his overactive imagination for sure.

They finished their sandwiches and he put the plate in the dishwasher before heading up to bed with her right behind him.

“I'm going to watch television but I'll keep it turned down,” she said.

“Honey, don't worry about noise on my account. A freight train coming right down the middle of my bed couldn't wake me when I'm asleep.”

K
aty had filled a pretty crock bowl with gravy and set it and a basket of piping hot biscuits on the table beside a platter of scrambled eggs and bacon.

Fiona poured two mugs of coffee and carried them to the breakfast table. “Do you think Jud overslept?”

“He's been gone for more than an hour. Left a note on the cabinet to say he's eating over at Toby and Lizzy's this morning,” Katy answered.

A jab of disappointment stuck Fiona in the chest. She'd liked the banter the night before, loved sharing leftovers with him and talking to someone who expected nothing from her. She didn't have to be anyone but herself: no airs, no changing from who she was to who she could or should be—in essence, no bullshit.

Katy shoveled half the eggs and bacon onto her plate and passed the rest to Fiona. “You ready to go to work this morning?”

“Sure. Do you mind if I borrow your car when I need it?”

“Of course you can use the car. The first store task I'm turning over to you is the bookkeeping.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Fiona grinned.

The sun was bright against a sparkling white blanket covering the north part of Throckmorton County that morning when Fiona and Katy left Audrey's Place and headed into town. Christmas carols played on the radio and everything was good until Fiona remembered that she'd sold her laptop. How in the devil was she supposed to do anything in bookkeeping without a computer?

“Well, shit!”

“What?” Katy asked.

“I don't have a computer. I know you've always kept books by hand but I'm used to spreadsheets and a computer program.”

“That can be fixed. Go down to Lizzy's store and tell her to get on hers and order you one. It can be here in two or three days, depending on the weather.”

“Mama, I have less than three dollars in my purse,” she said honestly.

“It's a business expense for the store. Or if you want it for your own use as well as the business, I'll pay for it and you can pay me back. Divide the payment into six and take that out of your weekly paycheck.”

“It can be for the store,” Fiona said quickly.

Katy pulled into her normal parking spot at the back of the store. “Bless your heart. And I mean that in a good way because when it comes to taking care of the business stuff, I'm six months behind, so get ready to pull your hair out. That new computer will damn sure pay for itself, I'm sure. I just don't know how to do that stuff and I'm too busy with your grandmother to learn.”

“I would have worked for room and board,” Fiona said softly.

“You are not the prodigal son. You are my daughter and we always paid you girls when you worked for us, remember?”

By noon, Katy had explained the basic delivery schedule and the payment agreement with each vendor, and Fiona had filled six pages of her notebook. “Any questions?” Katy asked.

“Just a couple of logistics things. If we moved the prepackaged pastries up to this end cut right here”—Fiona pointed to the first one inside the door—“then it would be an impulse buy. Folks coming in for coffee would see them and pick them up quicker than if they have to walk to the back of the store to find them. We could switch them out with the cleaning supplies and toiletries. People coming in to get those things are in an emergency situation if they're buying them in a convenience store.”

“Then that's your next job. Anything else you might want to suggest?” Katy grinned.

“Are we still getting a couple dozen doughnuts from the shop in Throckmorton as he drives through on his way north each day?”

“Most days but it's a long holiday weekend,” Katy said. “We still keep them under the glass dome just like your grandmother did when she ran the store. Why?”

“I wanted one.” Fiona smiled. “I guess I'll wait until Monday.”

“While you work on that switch you have in mind, I'm going to put on a pot of coffee. Even if it's a holiday, the old guys could come in for a gab session after they get chores done. Cows have to be fed and taken care of every day of the year,” Katy said.

“Where's a dust rag? I'll clean as I go.”

Katy set about making coffee in the two big pots at the back of the store. “In the back room right along with the spray cleaner. And thanks, kiddo. It's been at least two weeks since I've had time to dust the shelves.”

Fiona found what she needed and set about her job. She'd barely gotten a good start when Jud swaggered into the store and went straight for the coffee machine. The smell of hay, aftershave, and some kind of manly soap all trailed after him. She gripped the cleaning rag and reminded herself to keep working or she would have fallen right in behind him like a little puppy.

“Where's the doughnuts?” he asked.

“Holiday,” Fiona said.

“Well, rats. I had my mind set on a couple of those maple iced ones.” He carried the coffee to a yellow-topped chrome table at the back of the store and pulled out a chair.

“So did I,” she said. “We've got packaged pastries. Want one of those?”

“No, it wouldn't be the same. What are you doing?”

“Moving some stuff and doing some cleaning.”

“Which is desperately needed.” Katy pushed back a floral curtain covering the doorway into the back room. “I called Lizzy from the phone back there. She says she'll bring down her laptop. It's already got a bookkeeping program on it and she hates to do anything with it, so she's going to make a deal with us. We can have the computer if you'll do her bookkeeping and her taxes this year. Can I tell her that it's a deal?”

“Sure, but I would do all that for free.”

“Not without a computer. Hey, Jud. No doughnuts today but I'll order half a dozen extra maple ones on Monday,” Katy said.

“Better make that a dozen.” Jud flashed a grin. “Fiona might eat that many before I can get morning chores done.”

“Well, would you look what the cat has done dragged in?” Herman Hudson stopped right inside the door and opened his arms.

Fiona walked right into them. Herman was the same age as her grandmother and had always been a friend of the family. He hugged her tightly with arms as big as hams and they matched his round belly and big square face.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, girl. How long are you home for this time?” Herman let her go and started for the coffeemaker. “Where's the doughnuts?”

“Don't get any today. Holiday, remember?” Fiona said. “But right here is a whole bunch of prepackaged things.”

Herman turned around and came back, picked out a variety of things, and carried them to the table. “Put them on a ticket, along with mine and Jud's coffee. You didn't answer my question.”

“I don't know but I'm going to stick around and help Mama run the store. She's got a lot going on and needs some help,” Fiona said.

“That's good news. Real good news,” Herman said.

Was it? Would she finally put down roots or would she still feel like she was misplaced after a few weeks or even months?

After a buffet supper of more leftovers at Audrey's Place, the guys retired to the living room to talk cattle, ranches, hay, and four-wheelers. The four women and the baby sat around the dining room table and talked about putting up the Christmas tree the next weekend.

“Promise me you'll stay for Christmas,” Allie said.

“I wouldn't miss the holidays for anything, not even Florida in the winter. Besides, it's Audrey's first Christmas,” Fiona said from the rocking chair in the corner where she was humming to Audrey.

“If you'd told me a week ago that Fiona would be home to stay indefinitely, I would have thought you were crazy,” Lizzy said.

“Times change,” Katy said.

Those last two words played through Fiona's mind that evening when everyone had left. Times did change. Sometimes a person had to walk through fire to get to the nice cool lake water. Even though she wasn't sure she would stay in Dry Creek for the rest of her life, it was home and it was good to be there.

Her apartment in Houston had been so tiny that she'd felt cooped up most of the time, so she'd spent a lot of time out on the balcony. It was barely big enough for a white plastic lawn chair but at least she had fresh air, could hear the constant motion of traffic, and could watch the lights of the airplanes coming in and going out. It beat feeling like the walls of the apartment were closing in on her.

That evening, she had a bout of the same claustrophobic feeling in her bedroom. She swung the drapes back and looked out at the stars in the sky, patches of white still dotting the landscape. There was no traffic noise, not a single plane in the sky; the only thing she could hear was the faint howling of a hungry coyote somewhere over on the Lucky Penny.

She opened her closet door and removed a quilt from the top shelf and carried it down the stairs. Fresh air! Just a breath of it, no matter how cold, would help. Her therapist would tell her that it was too much, too fast and she needed to step back from the forest for a little while.

A cold breeze rattled the bare mesquite tree limbs and shivers shook her from shoulders to toes, even though she'd remembered to put on a winter coat from her closet. Her breath created little puffs of smoky fog in front of her as she headed for the swing in the shadows of the porch.

“You feelin' a little cramped tonight, too?” Jud asked.

How in the hell did he do that? She always knew when someone was approaching her or when they were looking at her even from across a room. “You scared me. What are you doing out here in the cold?”

“Same thing you are, I expect. Getting some fresh air even if it would freeze the spikes off the devil's little red tail. I'll share the swing if you'll share that quilt. It's colder out here than I thought it would be,” Jud answered.

Fiona sat down on the other end of the swing and spread the quilt out over both of their legs, pulling the corner of hers up to her chin. “I've lived simply for more than a year. This is all overwhelming. Most days I worked, went home to read a book from the library, and didn't talk to anyone unless Lizzy or Allie called.”

“Groundhog?” Jud said.

She nodded, remembering the old movie,
Groundhog Day
, where every single day was the exact same as the one before it. “Pretty much. I still saw the same customers almost every day, talked to the same coworkers about important world-changing things like whether we should restock the small cups or the large ones before we closed up every evening. But when I went home, I was alone.”

“Family rallies around when you need them.” Jud tugged his share of the quilt up to his neck. “What did you expect when you came home?”

She shrugged.

“Well, you are here now and it looks like you're going to do all right, darlin'.”

“Don't call me that,” she protested.

“Then how about honey pie, sugar, or sweet cheeks?” he teased.

“None of the above. Do you call your sister darlin'?”

“Sometimes, when I'm not mad at her.” He grinned. “And, Fiona, we might have joint kin folks, but we are not related at all.”

“Thank God!” she spit out. “I'm sorry. That came out wrong.”

He chuckled. “Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone who isn't related, who isn't even your friend, isn't it? Got something on your mind, Fi-o-na?” He dragged out her name, stretching each syllable.

“Nothing except getting outside,” she said. “You?”

He set his jaw firmly. “I feel like a fifth wheel and I'm a little jealous. We pooled our money for this big adventure, but then Blake and Toby wound up married and happy as piglets in a cornfield before I even got here. It's not the same as it would have been for three bachelors sharing the same house and arguing over who has to fix fences or who has to cook supper that night.”

“Find you a woman and get the same happiness they've got,” she suggested.

“I just might do that,” he declared.

“Well.” She inhaled. “I didn't plan to come back here at all and I've had enough of the marriage scene, so I'm not looking for anyone to settle down with.”

“Why?”

“I didn't want to live in Dry Creek, so I went to college, got a good job, and thought I had my fifty-year life plan all in order. Then it all fell apart, so I'll start all over, only this time without letting a smooth-talking guy upset things,” she answered.

He laughed.

“What's so funny?” she asked tersely.

“Man plans but God or fate or whatever you want to call it has a sense of humor. You've proven that, haven't you?”

“I saw a therapist a few times until I realized that I was running out of money and wasn't going to get a decent job. She helped me admit that the divorce was partly my fault.”

The hard north wind stung Fiona's bare cheeks. “Let's go inside and make some hot chocolate.”

“I'm all for that but what makes you think the divorce was your fault?” he asked as he folded the quilt and handed it to her.

“I was pretending to be something I wasn't.” She opened the door and hurried inside like a moth driven to the warmth of a flame. Shedding her coat and leaving it on the bottom step, she looked over her shoulder to see Jud hanging his on a hook on the coat rack.

“Did your ex, Kyle, ever come to Dry Creek with you before you were married?”

“A couple of times. He was bored to tears.” She led the way into the kitchen, flipped on the light, and found the hot chocolate mix right where it had been when she was a little girl. She heated two cups of milk on the stove and removed the whipped cream from the refrigerator.

“Then he knew, Fiona. He knew what you were, where you came from and how you'd been raised, so he knew your inner heart.”

“But I didn't want to be that person. I wanted to be that hotshot woman in high heels and power suits with a leather briefcase.”