Her Christmas Cowboy

by Jessica Clare

  “I’ll do you one better,” Caleb said. He surged forward, grabbing Blake by the lapels of his tailored coat, and flung her ex off her porch with an easy motion, tossing him as if he were a bale of hay. “Get out of here,” Caleb called out to him as he sprawled in the snow. “You’re trespassing.”

  And then he slammed the door shut behind him.

  Amy sagged, all of the bristling energy escaping her. Oh god. Had she really done that? Had she stood up to Blake and refused to let him run her down? It made her so happy . . . but it was also exhausting. She felt drained as Caleb approached her.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her square in the eye. “You did fantastic, baby.”

  Hearing his pride made her feel better. “Thank you.” She paused, fighting the urge to rush to the window to see if Blake was returning. “Is he . . . gone?”

  “We’ll know in a minute.”

  Amy remained tense until she heard the sound of his car start up. She moved to the window and peeked out the blinds, and sure enough, he was driving away.

  He was gone. She’d made it clear that she was done with him, and he was leaving. She’d won.

  She felt like celebrating. How long had she wanted to stand up for herself? How long had she dreamed of putting him in his place like he did to her all the time? Even when she’d divorced him, she’d snuck out and left, because it was too hard to confront him and stand up for herself. But she had today. She felt like a new person.

  She turned to Caleb, smiling. “He left.”

  He rubbed his jaw, scratching at his beard, and for a moment, he looked uncomfortable. “Was that okay?” he asked. “What I did?”

  “Tossing him off the porch?” Amy asked. When he nodded, she chuckled. “It was perfect. We make a great team.”

  Caleb grinned. “That we do.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Hours later, they emerged from the bedroom and curled up in front of the fire to snuggle in blankets and exchange Christmas presents. She moved Donner’s bed next to the fireplace to share in the warmth, and the old dog was currently snoring, sprawled and content.

  Even though it had happened earlier that day, Amy was still giddy with the knowledge that she’d handled Blake. She’d taken care of things. She hadn’t let him bully her into submission. And she’d thrown in that line about the lawyer to make him sweat. She had no doubt that he was deliberately maneuvering not to pay her the money she was owed, all to make her desperate. Maybe she’d lawyer up in the New Year—surely someone would take her on—or maybe she wouldn’t. The important thing was that Blake was going to sweat about it, and that was enough of a Christmas present for her.

  Caleb sank down to the floor with two mugs of hot cocoa, topped with thick whipped cream, leftovers from one of their baking dates. She took her mug from him and sighed with contentment. “This might be my favorite Christmas ever.”

  “Really? You haven’t even opened your presents yet.” He smiled at her over his mug, so handsome it made her heart squeeze.

  “It’s not about presents,” she confessed. “It’s about being happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” She looked around her small house, at the ramshackle furniture and the cold-frosted windows. Was it a little run-down? Sure. But it was her place. She could decorate however she wanted. She could pull out every bit of furniture and replace it all with yoga mats. She could hang beads from the ceiling and paint the walls a ridiculous shade of medicinal pink, all because she simply wanted to. It was her life.

  The possibilities felt endless.

  Not that she’d do any of those things, of course. But the knowledge that she could do whatever she wanted, dress however she wanted, and act however she wanted? It was thrilling. That was the best present, she realized. It wasn’t anything that came wrapped in a gift box, but a sense of independence. It was knowing that you could make your choices and the person at your side would support you and want the best for you.

  Looking at Caleb, she knew he was that person. He’d support her dreams. If she wanted to give up teaching and make soaps in the basement, he’d support that. If she wanted to teach for the next fifty years, he’d support that, too, because he just wanted her to be happy and fulfilled. The thought made her giddy with joy.

  “If it’s not about presents, then I guess we don’t need to open them . . . ?” He pointed at the box under the tree with her name on it.

  “Well, maybe it’s about presents a little,” Amy teased back. There were four gifts with his name on them under her tree, too—three books and the bookends. She hoped it was enough. Money was tight—money was always tight.

  Caleb picked up the large box with her name on it and handed it over to her.

  A curious smile spread across her face and she took the present from him, then began to unwrap it. An all-too-familiar label stared back at her from the front of the box. “Louboutins? You got me a pair of Louboutins?”

  He shrugged. “A place a few cities over had some in, and I recognized the red sole. You’re always wearing fancy shoes, so I thought I’d get you a pair.”

  A horrified giggle escaped her throat, and she pulled the familiar black sparkly shoes out. She’d put them on consignment a few weeks ago . . . These were her old shoes. “I’m always wearing them because it’s all I have. I . . . think these were mine.”

  “The ones you sold?” Caleb looked crestfallen. “I had no idea.”

  The giggles wouldn’t stop coming. She kept laughing, clutching the present to her chest. He thought she loved the expensive shoes so much that she chose to wear them exclusively? They pinched her feet and were incredibly impractical for a schoolteacher. But she wore them because it meant one less thing to have to buy at the store. Here she’d sold off most of her high-end shoes . . . and he’d bought some back for her. It was so funny to her, though, that Caleb genuinely thought she loved high heels, so she laughed and laughed, until he began to laugh with her.

  “I’m officially the worst boyfriend ever, aren’t I?” He gave her a rueful smile. “Giving you back a pair of shoes you sold?”

  That sobered her up. “You’re the best. Don’t ever believe otherwise.” She clutched the shoebox to her chest tighter. “I love it, because it was thoughtful. Thank you, Caleb.”

  “That’s not the only thing I got you—thank goodness.” He pulled out a small envelope from the tree skirt and held it out to her.

  “My letter?” Her eyes lit up.

  “Actually . . . no.” Caleb raked a hand through his messy hair. “It’s not a letter because I was too rattled after our breakup to write one. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have done it. I thought I was doing the right thing for both of us, but I overreacted.”

  He shrugged and reached for her hand, pulling it to his lap. “We’re together now. That’s all that matters.”

  They were. Amy smiled at him, then opened the envelope. Even before she could pull out the piece of paper and read it, he was explaining.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” he began.

  “It looks like a gym membership.” She arched an eyebrow at him.

  He rubbed his hand down his face, awkward. “I promise it’s not. I just know you were talking about how it was hard for you to make friends here because you felt like an outsider, and I know you live alone, and while I want to be at your side every day, I also don’t want you to feel like I have to be. So I got you a gift certificate to join the self-defense classes they have at the gym. They’re on Wednesday nights, and Becca said she was signing up, so I figured you’d know someone.”

  He got her classes so she could make friends and protect herself? Her eyes grew misty and she clutched the paper to her chest. “Oh Caleb. I love it.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe I should have gotten jewelry after all.” />
  “God no,” she breathed. “These are honestly the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received. I don’t want jewelry. I want someone to think about me . . . and you did. I love them both, and I love you.” In a strange way, she loved that he gave her high heels, because it meant he paid attention to her.

  That was everything.

  He gave her a sheepish smile and leaned in. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

  She kissed him, putting her heart and soul into the kiss, and when they pulled away, she couldn’t stop smiling. Self-defense classes. What a clever, thoughtful thing. It was perfect. She folded the certificate up and tucked it under her leg. “Open yours?”

  Caleb unwrapped his presents, exclaiming over each of the books and handling them with careful, reverent fingers. She could see the pleasure on his face, and his grin grew even wider when he unwrapped the bookends. “This is all perfect. Thank you so much.”

  It really was a superb Christmas.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The day after Christmas, Caleb sat in his truck and tried to be patient. He was in the parking lot across from Painted Barrel’s little bank. Amy had gone in alone—insisted on it—to talk to them about getting a loan for the apartment she wanted to move into. He’d floated the idea of her moving in with him, but even before he’d suggested it, he knew she wouldn’t take him up on it. She’d refused, politely. It didn’t hurt his feelings. He understood that Amy needed her own place for a while. She needed to feel comfortable with having her own space before she could share his.

  And Caleb was content to wait.

  At least, when it came to that. Waiting for her outside the bank was slight torture, though. He could see her through the windows, talking animatedly with the bank associate as she sat at a desk and filled out paperwork. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as she handed the papers over, and he watched as she pressed her fingers to her mouth, waiting as the banker typed things into his computer and talked. He couldn’t guess what they were saying. Was he letting her down easily? Breaking it gently to Amy that she wouldn’t qualify? Caleb didn’t know. If she didn’t qualify he’d . . . well, he’d help her think of something. He wanted to give her the money in his savings account. He wanted to just hand it to her, no strings attached, but he knew Amy well enough that he knew she wouldn’t take it.

  She needed to do this her way, and he understood.

  Didn’t mean he wasn’t chafing to jump in there and help.

  After what seemed like a hundred years, Amy got to her feet. She shook the hand of the man behind the desk, her expression unreadable. The banker handed her a folder of paperwork—a good sign, Caleb hoped—and then she left the bank.

  Caleb held his breath, waiting as Amy came out of the building. He got out and opened the door on the passenger side for her, waiting for her to speak up, to tell him how it went. She said nothing, just climbed into the truck with a serene expression on her face.

  Uh-oh. Was the silence hiding her disappointment? Caleb closed the door and went back to his side of the truck, the wheels in his head turning. If she didn’t get the loan, they’d figure something out. Maybe they could sell things online. Run errands. Heck, maybe she could do Uber or Lyft for the locals. Maybe his Uncle Ennis would need an assistant for a brief while. Maybe—

  Amy squealed and threw her arms around his neck, her grip chokingly tight.

  Caleb patted her back, letting her squeeze. “That’s good, I take it?” he managed.

  “I got it!” she told him excitedly, releasing his neck. Her hands slid to his chest and she beamed at him as if she’d won the lottery. “He said my credit rating was practically nonexistent so I couldn’t get a loan.”

  He frowned. “That’s . . . bad, then?”

  “But!” She pulled the paperwork out and showed him. “The bank is doing a program where you can get a credit card and pull money from it like cash. The interest rate is horrific and it’s going to take me years to pay it back.” But she smiled so broadly that he knew she didn’t care. “The bottom line is, I have the ability to move whenever I want.”

  “And do you want to? I’ll support you no matter what you decide.”

  “I know you will.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I love the new apartment, though. It’s not perfect, but I think it’ll be wonderful. So I do want to break my lease and move. It’ll mean a bit more of a drive in to work, but on the plus side, it’ll also mean Greg can’t wander into my bedroom.”

  “That’s a big damn plus.”

  She laughed, the sound so light and happy that it filled him with joy. “It is.”

  He smiled at her, his beautiful, sweet Amy. He loved that she was so happy. So in control of what she wanted. She wasn’t going to let anything stop her. It didn’t matter that the bank’s loan had awful interest rates. To her, it represented freedom, and she was willing to pay extra for that. “So, what now? Do we show up at Greg’s place and give him hell?”

  She squeezed his hand, then dragged it onto her thigh as if it belonged there. “Actually, no. I don’t want to deal with him today. Tomorrow, maybe. Or after the paperwork is signed at the other apartment. It doesn’t all have to be done at once, you know? Today, I think I’d just like to hang out together.”

  “In that case, you want your final day of presents?”

  Amy looked over at him in surprise. “Final day?”

  “Yeah, I had a big production set up for you the other day, when we broke up.”

  “You did?” Her eyes got wide. “What is it?”

  He buckled his seat belt and backed the truck out of the parking space in front of the bank, turning and heading toward the edge of town, toward the distant hills where the Swinging C Ranch was nestled. “Horseback-riding lessons. Figured my independent woman would want to learn everything she could, including how to saddle and ride a horse.”

  Amy’s newest squeal of delight and hug nearly ran him off the road.

  EPILOGUE

  One Year Later

  It was the night of the Christmas Carnival, and Santa was nowhere to be found.

  Amy had promised to meet Caleb at the school in costume. He was Santa again this year, but they hadn’t ridden together to the carnival. He had to help with some broken equipment over at the ranch, but he promised to meet her at the school. He’d promised. It wasn’t like Caleb to be late for something, but he’d been awfully distracted earlier that morning.

  She wasn’t entirely sure why. The upcoming holiday? They’d finished their Christmas shopping early, and dozens of wrapped gifts sat under the tree at Amy’s apartment, waiting for Christmas Day. She’d even managed to sneak a couple extra gifts in there for Caleb to unwrap, even though they’d sworn they weren’t getting each other anything for Christmas.

  To heck with that. She’d gotten him a digital tablet so he could read books electronically, and a few gift cards for online book purchases. It had cost her a pretty penny, but that was what credit cards were for. Hers were manageable now, thanks to the alimony payments that now came on time. She’d hired a lawyer in the New Year, just as promised, and all it had taken was the threat of legal pursuit and Blake had caved. He’d sent the missing payments and hadn’t missed one since. Last she heard, he was dating some eighteen-year-old.

  She didn’t care. That wasn’t part of her life anymore.

  The payments were going to end soon, though. Alimony didn’t last forever, just long enough to help her get on her feet. And that was fine, too. Amy had used the payments to get her new apartment and some decent furniture, but now that she was caught up on her bills, she found she didn’t need the money as much as she’d thought. Amy had been saving most of it for the next place to live.

  She wanted a house.

  More than that, she wanted a house with Caleb.

  They’d been dating for more than a year now, and she’d never been happier. Am
y adjusted her itchy, curly, white Mrs. Claus wig on her head as she peered down the decorated hall, looking for her man. She loved Caleb more with every day that passed. He’d never made her feel trapped or worthless. He’d just quietly supported her, and even when they argued—usually over stupid, small things—he never attacked. He just disagreed. Even arguments with Caleb weren’t all that bad.

  He really was the perfect man, and she adored him. He’d been careful to give her her space, helping her move into her apartment and not complaining even when it was a longer drive to visit her. He still came by almost every single day, and most nights he stayed at her place, or she stayed at his.

  Amy liked her independence, but she liked being with Caleb more, and when it came time for him to leave at night, she was the one demanding that he stay.

  Now she wished she’d fought harder to get him to go to the school with her. Amy checked her phone. Ten minutes before Santa’s Workshop was scheduled to open, and the children were already lining up. The halls of the school were crowded, and she waved at familiar faces and parents even as she tried to look past them, searching for a familiar bearded face.

  “You look cute,” a voice to her side said. “Maybe we should try some silver dye the next time you come in to get your hair cut.”

  Amy adjusted the wire-rimmed costume glasses on her face and beamed at Becca. “Is it a good look?”

  “The best,” Becca swore, huffing to her side. Her friend was very, very pregnant and her hands were supporting her rounded belly as she waddled forward. Hank had his hand on his wife’s shoulder protectively. He wasn’t smiling, but she knew enough about the Watson brothers now that it didn’t bother Amy. They were just a gruff type.

  Amy smiled at him anyhow. “Have you seen your brother? Caleb’s supposed to be here for you know what.” She tilted her head in the direction of Santa’s chair.

  He shook his head.

  “Boy, this carnival sure is growing, isn’t it?” Becca said. “I just saw Cass and Annie heading for the Cake Walk. And Sage is handing out tickets at the pie-throwing booth. I have to admit, I was tempted to throw a pie at Jason, but then I keep thinking of all the laundry poor Sage would have to do.”