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Falling for His Next-Door Neighbor

Page 8

by Liz Isaacson


  She was, indeed, late. By almost an hour, and as soon as she walked into the administration lodge, Jace appeared at the end of the hall that led to his office. He waved for her to come on back, and her heart dropped to her heels.

  “I’m sorry,” she said when she entered the office. “My sister—”

  “Archer told me.” Jace held up his hand. “It’s fine.” He stared at her, and she could only handle the weight of it for a few seconds.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, dropping her gaze to her folded hands in her lap.

  “You should be sayin’ that to Archer, not me.”

  She raised her eyes back to Jace’s, the familiar fiercely independent streak rearing its ugly head. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  “When it affects my best cowboy, it’s my business.”

  “Oh, so Golden Boy Archer is—”

  “Archer is not my best cowboy.” Jace folded his arms and nodded to someone over her shoulder. She turned, but not in time to see who’d been standing there.

  Silence prevailed between them, while Jace frown-stared at her and she tried to riddle her way through the confusion infecting her mind. Ty entered the room, with Tom just behind him carrying the star chart.

  “You’re my best cowgirl,” Jace said. “And you were an hour late this morning. So it’s my business what’s going on with you.”

  Emery stared at the chart, where her stickers went right up to the top. She had so many, they’d started a second column for her. She shook her head. “This makes no sense. Those aren’t—”

  She realized then that hardly anyone else had any stars at all. Caleb, the cowboy who’d been winning, didn’t have a single one. Neither did Elliott, who’d been in third place last time she’d checked.

  And Archer’s column was likewise empty. Her chest hitched and her tears came quickly. “I don’t understand.”

  “Let’s go outside,” Tom said. “I think you’ll get it then.”

  Emery had no idea what they were talking about, but she allowed them to corral her outside. She didn’t have to look farther than the first cabin beside the administration lodge to find what they wanted her to see.

  A man dressed as Santa Claus stood on the roof, holding a red bag that didn’t seem to have anything in it.

  “Emery,” he called, and she knew it was Archer by the calming sound of his voice in her ears. Oh, how she wanted to hear that voice right before she fell asleep each night and first thing every morning.

  “I love you, Emery Ender, and this Christmas, I’m standing up here on this housetop to give you what I hope will be the greatest gift of your life.”

  Tears streaked her face, and she couldn’t look away from Archer, but she was aware that all the cowboys had gathered and were listening.

  “Ask him what it is,” Ty whispered. “He’s got a script.”

  Emery glanced at the foreman. “A script?”

  Ty grinned, also watching Archer. “Just ask him what the gift is.”

  She turned back to Archer dressed in that silly suit. A smile broke through her tears. “What’s the gift?” she called. The wind wanted to play in their game, because it whined as it tried to take off the hats of everyone present. Emery shivered without her coat.

  “The stars,” Archer called. “If I could lasso them down from the heavens for you, I would. But even I’m not that good.” He grinned as the other cowboys chuckled. “But me and the boys here decided that you deserve as many stars as you can get. So we gave you some of ours.”

  He wasn’t giving her the stars. He was giving her his job. She shook her head. “I can’t let you do this.” She knew how much this position meant to him, knew it was the start of a long career here at Horseshoe Home Ranch that he wanted desperately.

  “No one denies Santa,” he boomed. “Not while he’s still up on the housetop.”

  She had no idea what to say. She glanced at Ty. “Now what?”

  He shrugged, and Jace stepped forward. “He’s waitin’ for you to accept the stars.”

  “And you might want to do it quickly,” Tom added. “I think Santa’s starting to turn blue.”

  Chapter 11

  Emery couldn’t accept the stars. Not the stickers, and not the brilliant ones in the sky either. “I can’t,” she said to Jace. “Caleb deserves the bonus.”

  “He knew what he was giving up.”

  “Did his wife?”

  “Of course,” Jace said. “The ranch wives know pretty much everything.”

  Indecision plagued Emery. “I can’t do this. Archer deserves the job.”

  “Archer wants you,” Jace said. “Just say okay and then we can all get back to work. You guys can talk.” He glanced at Tom, who wore a more sympathetic expression.

  “He really would lasso the stars for you,” Tom said. “He’s got stars in his eyes when he talks about you. The man is dressed like Santa Claus, for heaven’s sake.” A smile accompanied the statement, then a chuckle.

  Emery couldn’t help her own laughter bubbling up her chest either. She turned back to Archer, who possessed charm even in the red and white suit. He hadn’t gone all the way and replaced his cowboy boots with Santa’s black boots, though.

  “A cowboy Santa, huh?” she called. “I guess I can’t deny him.”

  Archer whooped—very un-Santa like—and headed for the edge of the roof. Elliott hurried from the crowd to hold the ladder, while Jace said, “It took him two weeks to get this set up, Emery. Be kind to him.”

  The men dispersed, seemingly in a moment, so that by the time Archer descended from the roof, Emery stood alone on the porch. She wrapped her arms around herself, a sense of apprehension in her stomach that didn’t sit well.

  Be kind to him.

  Archer’s boots tapped as he climbed the stairs. He wore a nervous look along with the festive costume.

  “Where do you even get a suit like that?” she asked, trying for playful and achieving it pretty well, in her opinion.

  “The North Pole, of course.” He grinned at her, but the happiness that usually accompanied the gesture didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Sexy.” She stepped closer to him and took a breath to get some of his cologne. Too bad it was so cold and her nostrils practically stuck together.

  “Let’s go inside,” he said. “Santa is really cold.”

  “I didn’t think Santa could get cold.”

  “Well, he can.” He took her hand, the skin-to-skin contact making her heart beat erratically.

  She let him lead her into the administration lodge and down the same hallway where Jace’s office sat. Archer went past it and into a smaller room, which held a couple of chairs and a cot.

  He sat, a sigh escaping his mouth. Not an exasperated sigh, but one full of weariness. Guilt that she’d caused that cascaded through her, but she sat too, determined to make things right between them.

  “I’m sorry,” Emery started. “I’ve messed up since the first day I met you.” She hung her head, her ponytail falling over her shoulder and her cowgirl hat hiding her face.

  Archer didn’t need her apologies. “Em, I’m not mad about anything. When I first saw you up here interviewing, I was furious. I…I just couldn’t lose another job to you. But I got over it.”

  “I can’t take your job,” she said.

  “You’re not. I’m giving it to you.”

  “I can’t do it.”

  “Why not?”

  She lifted her head and looked straight into his eyes. “I can’t even lift a single bale of hay by myself. You’re a born cowboy. This is what you were meant to do. And I’m going to take that from you?” She shook her head. “No. No way.”

  Archer took both of her hands in his. “So now what?”

  “My distance from you had nothing to do with the job.”

  “But you need the job so Glenna can move out.”

  She sucked in a breath. “You knew it was about Glenna?”

  “You completely changed when she ca
me to live with you.” Archer squeezed her fingers. “I may be just a cowboy, but I have eyes too.”

  “So you know this has nothing to do with you, right?”

  “Oh, I think it has everything to do with me.”

  She cocked her head. “I—”

  “You didn’t want me to know that you resent her.” Archer expected the fire that came into her eyes, and he got it. Red, hot fire. “But, Emery, I don’t think any less of you because of how you feel about Glenna. It’s a tough situation, and your fierce loyalty—one of the things I love most about you, by the way—won’t let you simply wash your hands of her. I get it.” He got it, because he couldn’t just let his father’s words die in his ears. Couldn’t leave his father’s opinion of him out of his decision-making.

  She glared for a few more seconds before softening. “She’s my sister. But I fear I’ll be chained to her forever. I couldn’t bind you to her too.”

  “What if I want to be bound to her?” Archer glanced at their entwined hands, his feelings so strong for Emery he didn’t think they could be contained. “Because I’m in love with you Emery, and if she comes with you, I don’t mind.”

  “I love you, too,” she whispered, causing him to yank his gaze back to hers. He wondered for a nanosecond if he’d heard her correctly, but the shy smile she gave him testified that he had.

  He leaned forward, almost off the edge of his seat, hoping she’d meet him halfway.

  She did, and as she pressed her lips to his, Archer didn’t think life couldn’t get any better. She giggled and ducked her head before the kiss turned too passionate.

  “So now what, Santa?”

  “Now we figure things out,” he said. “It’s what you and I have been doing our entire lives. We’ll figure something out.”

  “One thing I know,” she said. “You’re taking this job. I’m not cut out to be a cowgirl.”

  “Oh, I beg to differ. You look great in those boots.” He grinned and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. “But I’ll do whatever you say, Emery. I just want you to be happy. I want the woman back who told me stories about her childhood, and held my hand in the truck, and kissed me good-night like she was my girlfriend.”

  Archer took a deep breath and forced himself to stop talking. He still really wanted this job, needed to be part of this ranch family. But he’d literally give anything to be with Emery, and that included this job.

  “You earned the job, and I’m not taking it. I’ll talk to Jace.”

  Archer couldn’t help the smile that slipped across his face. “And what will you do for a job?”

  She exhaled. “Oh, I don’t know. I remember you saying something about waitressing or working at the grocery store.” She gave him a wry smile and freed one of her hands to nudge his shoulder playfully. “Maybe Glenna and I can work at the same place. Maybe she can move in with my mother, or out on her own. I don’t know.”

  “That piece doesn’t have to be solved today. As long as we’re okay today.”

  “I’m okay,” she said in a voice that was barely audible. “I’m sorry about this morning.”

  “You know why I did it, right?”

  “Yes, I know why you did it. But you didn’t need to do my dishes or start my laundry.”

  Archer never wanted her to be in such a dark place that she completely stopped functioning. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure every day is Christmas for you,” he whispered. “Dishes, laundry, trash, or carrying your sister up the stairs.”

  “I don’t deserve you.” She traced her fingers down the side of his face, eliciting a shiver from him.

  “You deserve the stars,” he said before kissing her again, this time pouring every emotion he felt into the touch.

  A knock on the door interrupted them this time, and Archer got up to answer it. Jace stood on the other side. “Announcement of winners is right around the corner,” he said. “Can you tell me who won?”

  “I won,” Archer said as Emery looped her arm through his. “The job, the girl, all of it.”

  “So Caleb will get his bonus?”

  “Yes,” Emery said quickly. “I’ll be fine.”

  Jace glanced at her. “I can have Belle ask around for jobs in the valley.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Emery said.

  Archer stepped in front of her. “She’d love that. And her sister needs a job too. She’s in a wheelchair, but she has cashier experience and can probably work in an office or something like that too.”

  “Archer.”

  He cut her a glance out of the bottom corner of his eye. “Emery.” He ignored the tension against his arm. She needed to learn to accept help when it was offered, plain as that. “Anything you can find out, let us know.”

  “All right.” Jace started down the hall, and Archer and Emery followed. He eased into the crowd and lingered near the back while Jace went to the front.

  “Well, what an amazing four months it’s been,” he said. “We’ve gotten a lot of good things done, and I don’t think anyone will be surprised to hear me say that Archer Bailey will be our new cowboy.”

  A cheer went up, and pride filled Archer’s chest at the same time embarrassment heated his face. He took off his cowboy hat and waved it a few times, the way he’d seen rodeo champions do. He was about as far from a champion as a man could get, but he didn’t want to seem arrogant or unappreciative.

  “And the cowhands who earned bonuses this year are Caleb Chamberlain, Jerome Jackson, and Elliott Hawthorne.”

  “Aw, yeah!” Elliott pranced to the front of the room and accepted the envelope Jace extended to him. Archer laughed along with everyone else, tucking Emery against his side. Immense gratitude filled him from top to bottom and front to back.

  Thank you for putting me here, he prayed. For Emery at my side. For Jace, and Elliott, and everyone here who’s accepted me right into their family.

  Now all Archer had left to do was talk to his father.

  “Dad!” he called later that evening. “Mom?”

  “Archer.” She rose from the dining room table. “What are you doing here?” She hugged him. “Is everything okay?”

  “Fine, just fine.” He couldn’t stop smiling. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Oh, he’s down in the basement, watching a documentary.”

  Archer grinned wider. “I love a good documentary.”

  “Two peas in a pod.” His mom moved to the top of the stairs and called down to her husband. “Archer’s here.”

  His dad came slowly up the steps, his eyes asking questions his voice didn’t.

  “I got the job, Dad.” Archer embraced him when he reached the top of the stairs. “Jace Lovell said I was a natural-born cowboy.” He laughed, relieved and satisfied when his father joined in.

  “I knew you could do it,” his dad said. “Good job, Archer.”

  “I’m gonna be a cowboy,” Archer said, a note of awe in his tone. “Mom, I’m gonna be a cowboy!”

  Chapter 12

  Archer pulled the cookie sheet out of his oven amidst a cloud of billowing, black smoke. He’d barely set the tray on the stovetop before the smoke alarm went off. Carrot Cake started yapping, like that would help at all.

  “Dang it.” He hurried over to the detector and started waving the oven mitt under it to clear the smoke and stop the beeping. The last thing he needed was the fire department over here. Or worse, Emery, wondering what he was doing.

  Christmas Eve dinner required cookies in Archer’s opinion, and he’d wanted to show up with the perfect chocolate chunk bites. Was that so wrong?

  The shrill alarm finally stopped, and Archer turned back to the mess he’d made in the kitchen. Bowls and large utensils sat in the sink and covered the countertops. “This is why I make smoothies for breakfast and peanut butter sandwiches for dinner,” he grumbled. Cooking and baking not only required some sort of culinary skill he didn’t possess, but he also had to clean up afterward.

  He took a deep breath and checked the r
ecipe again. He still had dough left, and he scooped more balls onto a new cookie sheet. He slid it into the oven and double-checked the temperature. Three-fifty. He carefully set the timer this time, making sure he put in eight minutes and not eighty minutes. Maybe he’d get a dozen cookies to take next door. He just needed something to show Emery that he could do more than wrangle cattle.

  His present for her sat near the front door, wrapped in sparkly red paper and a bright silver bow. Worry needled his mind; he hoped she’d like the new pair of cowgirl boots he’d found at the department store downtown. They had red stitching instead of pink, but they’d screamed Emery’s name as soon as he’d laid eyes on them.

  Beside them sat a long, rectangular package—a complete set of the Anne of Green Gables books—for Glenna. She’d told him once while he carried her upstairs that she loved the books almost as much as the movies. He’d gotten her both, hoping she didn’t have them or hadn’t brought them with her from Spokane.

  The timer went off, and Archer pulled the cookies from the oven. They looked brown around the edges and he declared them a success with a grin and a “Finally.”

  At the appointed time, he gathered his cookies and his gifts and went next door.

  Emery greeted him with a warm smile and a kiss. “You made cookies?” She looked at them like they were hockey pucks and back at him with desire in her eyes. “You’re a man of many mysteries.” She grinned a flirty little grin. “I like that.”

  She took the cookies to the kitchen while he moved to put his presents under the tree. She’d decorated it with white lights, gold bows, and an assortment of white lace ornaments. A huge star adorned the top, and Archer gazed at it.

  Emery returned and handed him a cup of hot chocolate. He put his arm around her, his soul singing. “This tree is beautiful,” he said.

  “Glenna makes the ornaments,” she said. “Each one takes her about a month. She starches them into shape after she’s crocheted them.”

  “Impressive.” He looked to where Glenna sat on the couch, her ear buds in. She glanced at Archer and waved. He pointed to the ornaments and gave her the thumbs-up.

 

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