Her Cowboy Till Christmas

by Jill Kemerer

“And how do they compare?” he asked quietly. A storm was brewing inside him, and he wasn’t sure if it was due to the way she hadn’t judged him for his debts, her fiery speech about knowing him, the fact she’d called him out a few minutes ago or...

  Was she considering moving to Rendezvous?

  For good?

  The thought was so appealing, he thought his legs might give out.

  “I don’t know. Babs and I haven’t gotten around to prices.” She pushed against his chest and stepped past him to signal to Babs. He didn’t try to stop her. Why would he? If she liked the price, she might stay, and if she stayed, he’d get to see her whenever he wanted.

  Every day.

  He’d have his friend back.

  Yeah, like you really think of her as a friend.

  “Honey, I won’t lie to you, it doesn’t have much in the way of character—but it’s a good space. You can see how large it is.” Babs gestured for her to follow. “Come on, I’ll show you the office and bathroom. Oh, and no, we don’t have any dance studios in town. Nearest one is over an hour away.”

  He didn’t consider himself the nosy type, but he followed them to the back. No way was he missing a word.

  “Are you willing to lease out the building?” Brittany craned her neck to check out a counter.

  “No, honey, I’m not. I’ve already sold the other properties. This is my last one, and once it’s gone, my landlady days will be over.”

  “Everything is really outdated.” Brittany tapped her chin.

  “A couple coats of paint and it will be fresh as a daisy.” Babs pulled a sheet out from the folder she carried and handed it to Brittany. “Did I mention there’s a one-bedroom apartment upstairs? You could live in it or rent it out. It’s up to you. My nephew lived there for a while, but he moved to Montana this summer.”

  “An apartment?” Brittany brightened. “Can I see it?”

  “Of course, honey. Let me find the key.”

  Mason sidled next to Brittany and scanned the sheet.

  “Babs?” Brittany’s voice had a mangled quality. “Is this the price?”

  The lady craned her neck to see where Brittany was pointing.

  “Yes, hon, the price is negotiable. Don’t let it scare you off.”

  “This isn’t missing a zero at the end?” Brittany seemed fixated on the paper.

  “Missing a zero?” Babs barked out a laugh. “Around here? Unless this place has grazing land I don’t know about, the price is correct. Now let me show you the rest...”

  They made their way to the office, poked through the closets and bathroom, then went out the back door and up a flight of stairs. Babs unlocked the apartment, chattering all the way. “You know, if you made the store into a dance studio, you could offer exercise classes. Jeanette Denroy started a Jazzercise class a few years ago, but since she had the baby, she stopped teaching. That class was packed. She’s a nice gal. Never made us feel bad about ourselves for not keeping up. If you could have seen me, you’d have busted a gut, honey. And I know what you’re thinking—no, I did not wear a leotard.”

  Brittany glanced at him with twinkling eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, and her steps light. She looked like she was gliding on air. He wanted to take her in his arms and glide with her.

  “Oh, wow, this is a great space,” she said. “I didn’t think it would be this big.”

  He curled his lips under at the old, stained carpet and dingy walls. The bones of the place seemed fine. The small galley kitchen was outdated, but there were windows in every room, and Brittany was right, the place was big. While she asked Babs about the parking situation and utilities, he went downstairs to check the electrical system and pipes. Everything seemed to be in order.

  A few minutes later, Brittany and Babs came back down.

  “I’ve got the papers here if you’re ready to make an offer.” Babs tapped the folder.

  “I’ll have to think about it. Thank you so much.” Brittany hugged the woman. “I really appreciate you taking time out of your Sunday to show this to me. I’m sure you have a million things to do this close to Christmas.”

  “I’m happy to do it, and I’ve been ready for Christmas for three weeks. You let me know if you have any questions or want to stop by again.”

  “I will.”

  Mason trailed behind them as they exited. Babs locked it back up and waved goodbye.

  He opened the passenger door for Brittany and shut it after she’d climbed up. Then he jogged around and got in. “I didn’t realize you were looking at buildings around here.”

  “I didn’t, either.” A small smile played on her lips as she kept her attention on the front window.

  “Have you heard from the bank in California?”

  “No.”

  “Then...why?”

  “Don’t worry, Mason.” She faced him then, her eyes wavering between hope and pain. “I’m just dreaming. The chances of me moving here are slim to none.”

  Slim to none. Bill was right. Brittany belonged somewhere else—somewhere busy and warm, with lots to do. He backed out of the spot, thinking of what she’d told him last week at Nan’s. How she couldn’t have stayed here when she was eighteen.

  He’d always known it, but he’d never admitted it.

  “I don’t blame you for not wanting to move here when you’re living the dream in California.”

  “Living the dream...” she said under her breath. “Not even close. Sometimes I’m not even sure...” She clamped her mouth shut.

  What wasn’t she sure of?

  “What were you going to say?” He drove down Third Street.

  “I don’t know if it’s worth it when my dreams always go bust. My dream was to be a professional dancer, and I gave it up. I thought putting together a dance team—teaching the best of the best—would be my new dream. But I don’t know anymore. Nan’s old, and I’m not getting any younger, either.”

  Were those tears glistening under her lashes? His gut curdled. Maybe she’d been right before—maybe he hadn’t given her the benefit of the doubt. It had been easier to believe she was happy, fulfilled, than to think otherwise.

  What had it cost her to leave Rendezvous ten years ago? At the time, he’d thought nothing. But now? He studied her profile, and he saw the things she wasn’t saying. How much Nan meant to her, how disappointed she was to not be further ahead with her professional plans, and how hard she’d worked to get where she was.

  There was more there, too. And he recognized it instantly.

  Loneliness.

  Never in a million years would he have believed Brittany Green could be lonely. The woman exuded joy—people were drawn to her. She couldn’t be lonely.

  Deep down, though, he knew she was. She’d said she knew him, and he guessed he knew her, too. A decade couldn’t erase their connection.

  Suddenly, her moving to Rendezvous didn’t seem so outlandish.

  “Maybe I should be thankful.” Her voice sounded scratchy.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize...” He didn’t know what to say. She seemed to see herself through a different lens than he did. And he didn’t like it. “Look, you were right earlier. I haven’t given you the benefit of the doubt. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished. I know it hasn’t been easy for you. You’ve sacrificed a lot.”

  “What have I accomplished?” she said under her breath, shaking her head.

  “You’ve taught a lot of kids how to dance. I know how much joy it brings to you. You’ve passed it on to them. You don’t have to teach the best of the best to be important.”

  She didn’t answer, but her frown deepened.

  “What more do you want?” He held his breath, hoping he’d hear what he’d wanted to hear ten years ago. The same thing, as much as he tried to deny it, that he wanted to hear now.

  His
name.

  “Everything,” she whispered.

  The letdown was swift and hard.

  They were right back where they’d been. If she got the line of credit—if she had to make a choice between her career and him—she’d choose the studio and the dance team in California.

  Nothing had changed.

  He should be glad. Should be thankful he wouldn’t have to break his promise. There would be no other woman for him besides Mia.

  But the emptiness inside him grew bigger.

  Mia’s memory was all he had to keep him warm.

  And right now he was colder than he’d ever been.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Being here with you has got me thinking.” Brittany was surrounded by wrapping paper, ribbons, bows and tape on Nan’s living room floor on Monday. A radio station played Christmas music in the background, and the room smelled of cinnamon from the rolls they’d baked earlier. Snow fell in big flakes outside the windows. Everything about this moment wrapped her up in the Christmas feels.

  “What’s that, dear?” Nan handed her a sheet of name tags.

  She hesitated. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe she should wait to discuss the future with Nan until after she was certain about what she wanted to do.

  Last night she’d barely slept. She’d done a quick analysis of dance centers in similarly sized small towns across Wyoming and figured out her income requirements for opening a studio here. The numbers had been surprising—shocking, even. She’d only need a small loan to purchase the computer repair shop and make renovations. She could either live in the apartment or rent it out. She could have a comfortable life here. But it would mean giving up the idea of the competitive dance team.

  Stripping away the dance team meant giving up on another big goal.

  She’d be just another dance teacher in just another town.

  Ripping off a piece of tape, she smoothed it on the wrapping paper of the box of candy Nan had bought for Mason. His words from yesterday kept running through her brain. You don’t have to teach the best of the best to be important.

  It sounded right, so why did she think he was wrong? What was she trying to prove to herself? She had to stop thinking about it.

  “I’ve enjoyed spending this time with you.”

  “Me, too.” Nan brightened. “I always love it when we’re together. How I would look forward to our summers together! I would cry when you left.”

  “Really?” Her heart squeezed. “I looked forward to our summers together, too. You made me feel special—loved.”

  “You are special.” Nan gave her a tender smile. “And loved.”

  “I feel the same about you. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.” Brittany shifted to sit cross-legged. “I know Mason comes over every day, but I’ve been thinking it might be smart to have someone else come in a few times each week, too.”

  “I don’t want strangers here.” She shook her head.

  No shock there. Brittany reached for the toy tractor she’d bought for Noah. “It wouldn’t be a stranger. You know Vera Wick.”

  “Vera?” Her expression loosened. “From church?”

  “Yes. She could use a little extra money, and she does light cleaning for a few other ladies in town.” Brittany kept her tone as light as a feather. “She’ll even help them shower if they’re nervous about slipping.”

  “I don’t need help showering.”

  “I know. I’m just telling you what I heard.” Brittany unrolled paper with puppies in red bows and cut a portion off. “Anyhow, money’s tight for her, and it would make me feel better knowing we could help out Vera, and then you wouldn’t have to clean the house.”

  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if she needs the money...” Nan picked up the fluffy stuffed kitten Brittany had bought for Ivy and set it on her lap.

  Relief ran down her spine, but she schooled her face to conceal her emotions. If she went back to Santa Ana, at least she’d have some assurance Nan wouldn’t be alone so much. But that was assuming she left...

  Could she broach the subject she wasn’t sure about at all? She stretched her arm to one side then the other. Took her time wrapping Noah’s gift before reaching for the butterfly net she’d bought Harper.

  Come on, Brit. Think about what Lois said. You owe it to Nan to find out what she wants before making any decisions.

  “You wouldn’t believe where my head went this week.” Her voice sounded high even to her own ears. “I saw a building for sale downtown, and on a whim, called the number. And what do you know, Babs O’Rourke owns it. That’s where I went while you were napping yesterday. It used to be the computer repair center. It needs renovations, but something about it spoke to me. Do you know the place?”

  “I’m not sure.” Nan wrapped the stuffed animal in tissue paper.

  “I guess it was a vacuum shop, then an insurance agency.”

  “The vacuum shop? Oh, yes, it was the record store. On Third Street. Your grandfather and I used to go there and buy albums. I couldn’t wait to get the new Frank Sinatra records, but Neil liked the country artists. By the time Joanie was in high school, the shop had been sold. A shame. I think she would have liked it.”

  “What was she like in high school?” Why had her mother hated Rendezvous so much?

  Nan’s face fell. “I should have put more limits on her. Neil and I, well, we tried for so long to have children. I’m afraid we spoiled her.” She carefully placed the stuffed animal into a gift bag. “She was full of imagination as a child, and she had high expectations.”

  Her mother did have high expectations. Brittany wouldn’t argue with that.

  “She was going to be an astronaut. Then it was a movie star. Then a lawyer to fight for the down-and-out.”

  Fighting for the down-and-out? Didn’t sound like her mother at all. She’d devoted her career to being a corporate consultant to boost profits, which meant cutting costs—and sometimes jobs.

  “I encouraged her to dream big. Figured it couldn’t hurt anything,” Nan continued. “But she changed in high school. She got a chip on her shoulder. Had nothing but bad things to say about this town. Neil and I chalked it up to teenage foolishness. Then she fell in love. She was eighteen. She’d already been admitted to UCLA.”

  Had this been the guy who shattered her mom’s dreams? Brittany knew her father hadn’t—Mom had been clear on that point.

  “With who?” Brittany asked. “What happened?”

  “Wes was a cowboy who worked on a local ranch during the summer. He moved here to be closer to the rodeos. He was a bull rider. She went to all of the events and watched him compete. He was a gem.”

  “So he broke her heart?” Sympathy for Mom hit unexpectedly.

  “Joanie?” Nan chuckled. “He wanted her to move down to Texas and ranch with him. She wanted him to come to Los Angeles with her.”

  “The cowboy said no, huh.”

  “Oh, no. He was smitten. He followed her to LA.”

  “He did?” It didn’t add up to any concrete picture of her mother she’d put together. “Then why did she always tell me her dreams died here?”

  “She told you that? I don’t know. It seems to me her dreams were alive and well here. If she hadn’t gotten it in her head she had to have an important job to be happy, I think she would have married Wes and been fulfilled.”

  Have an important job to be happy? The phrase sank to her gut.

  Nan made a tsk-tsk sound. “That poor young man. He didn’t have a chance. A cowboy in Los Angeles? If she thought Rendezvous was backward, you can imagine how she viewed Wes when he came to town. I think she broke his heart, and she broke her own in the process.”

  Her mother had lied to her! All the lectures about Rendezvous being a dream killer...why had her mom done that? Why hadn’t she told her the truth?

  “I
can’t believe it.” Brittany shook her head. “Mom was always warning me about this town and living out in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me. The older you got, the less she wanted you to come here for the summers.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that.”

  “She and I had awful rows. When she broke up with Wes, I told her I thought she was making a big mistake. He was her true love. And she told me to mind my own business. I probably should have. Our relationship never fully healed, but at least she didn’t keep you from me. Maybe if I would have given her more responsibilities growing up, she would have gotten a sense of identity without having to find it in her career.”

  The butterfly net fell out of Brittany’s hand to the floor.

  I’m just like my mother.

  She scrambled to her feet and crossed over to the window. Shifting back and forth from foot to foot, she tried to find her equilibrium.

  She’d been trying to find her identity in her career for ten years. How many times had she told herself she’d have time for a serious relationship after she owned a studio and put together a dance team? How many dates had she turned down to work an extra shift for the down payment? How many vacations had she brushed off?

  Her breathing came in shallow gasps, and she kept her gaze trained on the snowy prairie outside.

  What would it take for her to feel like she’d made it?

  And would anyone be there to celebrate with her when she did?

  I have to change. I want more—so much more—than Santa Ana can give me.

  She whirled to face Nan. “How would you feel if I moved here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m seriously considering buying that store and turning it into a dance studio.”

  “I don’t understand.” Nan had a look of wonder on her face. “Would you really move here?”

  “I might. I don’t know yet.” She went over to the couch and sat next to her. “If I did, how would you feel about it?”

  “It would be a dream come true. You could stay with me.” Nan patted her cheek. “You can have your old room.”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”