Christmas in Cowboy Country

by Janet Dailey

  Her parents had decided to stay in and watch their favorite TV programs. She half wondered if they were thinking she wouldn’t have quite so good a time if her mom and dad were there. But Lou and Tyrell were mum on that subject.

  If they only knew, she thought, sliding her hands over the steering wheel as she turned her red truck away from the ranch and onto the county road.

  The white Stetson was beside her on the seat in an improvised hatbox. She would return it to Nell tonight. The drive to town didn’t take long. She tried her best not to think about Stone or what girl he might bring to the dance.

  She parked in the lot of a restaurant with an attached dance hall that had once been a barn. There weren’t many spaces left. Couples of all ages and families were streaming toward the entrance. Annie peered through the windshield as she turned off the ignition. She didn’t see Stone. With a crowd like this, she might not even have to speak with him.

  Annie decided to hold the Stetson in her hand so as not to be too conspicuous, and zipped up her jacket over the fancy shirt for the same reason. She intended to disappear behind the curtain of the low stage to one side of the hall and not talk to anyone but Nell and the musicians until the moment she stepped out and took the mike to emcee.

  She moved quickly through the crowd in the front area that was serving as a lobby of sorts tonight, nodding to the folks she knew and waving to Darla without stopping to talk to her. People were clustered around a glass cabinet set up on a cloth-draped table that displayed a belt and a handbag and a placard bearing the familiar logo of Velde’s saddlery shop.

  “I’m buying five tickets,” a man said. “It’s for a good cause.”

  Annie paused just long enough to read the sign. The items would be raffled off to benefit the youth group. Several teenagers were selling tickets from a large roll and writing down each buyer’s name on every one.

  She passed by, moving through the restaurant, which had been converted to an informal buffet serving simple food. Long tables held pots of chili and pans of cornbread. Soft drinks and beer were nestled in tubs of ice.

  Annie inhaled appreciatively. There was just about nothing sweeter than the aroma of freshly baked cornbread, and the spicy chili added a hearty note. Unfortunately, a whiff was all she could have. Most likely she wouldn’t have time to eat and she had to keep the white shirt in pristine condition.

  She looked ahead, not wanting to be tempted, and walked faster. Some of the musicians—not local bands; she didn’t recognize any of them—were already setting up on the low stage and the curtain had been drawn back.

  So much for hiding. But the crowd of people hadn’t gotten this far yet and someone had set up a rope decorated with bandannas as a visual barrier that would stand until the dance began.

  The rest of the decorations were, predictably, white. Foam snowballs had been glue-tacked to the walls and cardboard snowmen smiled in every corner. She spotted the white-wire reindeer in a corner, nodding away.

  Annie set down the Stetson and slipped off her jacket, looking around for Nell. She was distracted by a low, appreciative whistle from a lanky, good-looking musician.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said. He lifted his fiddle to his shoulder and played several bars of a reel, his eyes dancing with admiration.

  Annie smiled at him. It was nice to be noticed, just so long as Marshall Stone wasn’t doing the noticing.

  “There you are, Annie.” Nell bustled over. “Bret, this is our emcee,” she said to the fiddler, who stopped playing, holding his instrument and bow upright in one hand.

  “Nice to meet you.” The lanky musician extended the other hand to shake hers. The other members of his band clambered onto the stage, including a female singer in a ruffled dress who eyed Annie with annoyance, as if she hadn’t expected anyone to steal her thunder.

  Annie turned to Nell. “Whose idea was the raffle?”

  “Mine,” Nell said proudly. “The churchwomen sponsored the buffet and did the cooking. That should bring in plenty of money too. Did you see the display? I wangled a couple of fabulous prizes.”

  “I saw the glass case. But I didn’t get a chance to take a close look at what was inside.”

  “There’s a custom-made belt with an inlaid buckle for the gents and a hand-tooled pocketbook in Spanish leather for the ladies. I just heard that we sold hundreds of tickets. Lots of folks are buying five or ten at a clip.”

  “That’s great. So when are we drawing for the winners?”

  “We could do the raffle after the opening dances, right about when the musicians take their first break. Is that okay with you, Bret?”

  The musician nodded, preoccupied with tuning his fiddle.

  “There’s a lot of families,” Nell continued. “You know how it is—some might have to leave early if kids get cranky. Anyway, here come the tickets now.”

  A teenage girl in a bright blue sweater went under the rope with the ticket box. She came up to the stage. “Here you go, Mrs. Dighton.”

  “Thanks, honey. How’s the crowd?”

  “Getting bigger. Kinda restless.”

  Nell nodded. “I think it’s time to start letting people in. Could you tell the front door crew to see to that?”

  “Sure.” The girl in the blue sweater walked off, ducking under the rope again.

  Nell shifted the box she held. “Hope they separated these into gents and ladies.” She peered inside. “Yes, they did. Two bags, marked. Good.” She set the box on a nearby chair.

  In minutes, the dance hall was filled with what seemed to be everyone in Velde and the surrounding towns. Annie felt relieved not to spot Marshall in the crowd. Only a few of the men matched him for height and he was nowhere to be seen.

  “Aren’t you going to wear the Stetson?” Nell asked as an audio tech tested the mike clipped to a stand positioned to the right of the stage.

  “Yes, of course. I forgot.” Annie realized that she’d forgotten hairpins. She’d make do. She coiled her hair around one hand and held it on top of her head, swiftly clapping the white hat over it.

  “I can’t believe you’re going to cover up all that glorious shiny hair,” Nell said indignantly.

  “It’s already warm in here,” Annie replied. “When everyone’s in and the dancing starts, I’m going to be roasting. Especially with that—ouch—spotlight on me.”

  A blinding white light from overhead caught her. Annie had to close her eyes for a second before she could walk out of it.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Nell said. She waved to the mingling crowd and got a few friendly hollers in return. “Let’s go over the lineup. I made you a cheat sheet.” She pulled out a long piece of paper and walked into the wings with Annie.

  Nell held up the sheet in front of her. There were thumbnail-size pictures of each musician in every band next to their names. “Photos. Thanks.” Annie scanned the rest curiously, which was mostly text.

  “You don’t have to say any of that,” Nell reassured her. “I just threw in a few cute jokes in case you got stage fright.”

  “I don’t think I will. I won’t be able to see anybody when that spotlight’s on.”

  “It is bright,” Nell said. “Okay. I’m glad you’re not nervous. It’ll be just you and whatever band is playing during each set, and they’ll have your back. If your mind goes blank, they’ll start up a riff or tell a little story. I’ll come on for the raffle, of course. You ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The glowing white light made a circle around the stand and the folds of the curtain behind it.

  Nell handed over the cheat sheet. “Here you go. I’ll introduce you.”

  Annie hesitated.

  “Best foot forward,” Nell encouraged her. “You never know. This could be the start of a new career for you.”

  “I don’t think so.” She laughed, though. “Come on. Let’s get it over with.”

  Nell did the honors to wild applause and Annie got the hang of emceeing very fast. Sh
e really couldn’t see anyone beyond the very front of the stage. And the first band, a skilled bluegrass group, got just about everyone dancing to a lively jig, from the littlest kids to the seniors.

  Annie relaxed, keeping time with her cowboy boots to the infectious rhythm. She saw Darla whirl near the stage and away again with her date, having a grand old time. The tiny flash of envy Annie felt didn’t last longer than it took for Bret to wrap it up and launch into the next tune.

  On it went. The band finally signaled her for a break and Annie announced it. She saw Nell out of the corner of her eye approaching her with the two bags of tickets.

  Annie tipped the mike toward Nell as she reached the stand and set the bags on the flat top.

  “Hello and welcome to the Snow Ball! Is everyone having a good time?”

  The question almost didn’t need to be asked. They certainly were.

  Nell held up the bags. “We sold every one of the raffle tickets and I want to thank you all for your generosity!”

  Cheers. Clapping.

  “Each ticket has a name; our volunteers made sure of that. There will be two winners. Two.”

  The crowd echoed the word.

  Nell held up the paper bags and shook them. “Ready for a raffle?”

  Shouted yeses.

  “Then here we go. Miss Annie, if you would please hand me your hat. . . .”

  “What?”

  Annie realized her startled response had been picked up by the mike when the crowd laughed. They seemed to think the two women were having fun, drawing out the suspense. It wasn’t scripted on the cheat sheet, but Annie had to play along.

  With a mischievous grin, Nell plucked the Stetson from Annie’s head. Her long hair came down in shining waves, tumbling over her shoulders.

  There were whoops of appreciation from the men. “Now calm down, cowboys!” Nell’s ladylike taps on the mike got amped up to deafening thuds. “Attention, please!”

  The older woman set one paper bag inside the hat and held it high.

  All eyes were on her. And Annie, who knew she was blushing.

  “There will be a bonus drawing,” Nell announced in a low, breathy voice. That hadn’t been on the cheat sheet either, Annie thought nervously. The crowd got quieter.

  “Our lovely emcee has agreed to dance with the first gentleman whose ticket comes up!”

  “No, I didn’t.” Annie managed to say the words out of the corner of her smiling mouth.

  A few guys heard her and hooted. Everyone still thought they were kidding around, keeping the moment going.

  “Oh yes, you did, Annie Bennett. In fact, I believe it was your idea. You’re just bashful.”

  Annie’s eyes widened. “Nell!”

  “What?” Nell beamed at the crowd without turning to look at Annie.

  Just in time, Annie remembered to shut off the microphone before she replied in a furious whisper. “I didn’t agree to get raffled off. What were you thinking?”

  “That it would be fun.”

  “You should have asked me.”

  “Oh, don’t get your britches in a twist.”

  Annie was truly steamed. “I’m going to kill you. I really am.”

  Nell waved away the comment with maddening cheerfulness. “Don’t. I’m leaving you the saloon in my will. It’d look bad if you did me in.”

  “Huh? Have you lost your mind? What has your will got to do with—”

  “Yes!” Nell hollered, switching on the mike again. “Annie changed her mind! She says she will!”

  Hoorays. Annie smiled weakly at the people out front.

  Then Nell put a hand to her cheek as if she were thinking it over. But somehow Annie knew she wasn’t off the hook.

  “I’m forgetting my manners. Ladies first,” Nell said decisively. “Let’s draw for that Spanish leather pocketbook!”

  She set aside the white Stetson and picked up the bag of women’s tickets, reaching inside to stir them up vigorously.

  With a final flourish, Nell pulled out a ticket and read the name of the winner. A young woman made her way to the stage to claim a certificate for her prize, which she held up triumphantly before jumping down and disappearing into the crowd again.

  “And now . . .” Nell plunked the white Stetson down in front of the mike.

  There was no chance of pulling it away from her. God only knew if the saloon keeper had any other surprises planned.

  Nell stuck a hand into the bag and stirred the tickets. She made a big show of looking into the bag. The crowd booed, going along with the joke.

  “Oh, I know I’m not supposed to do that. All right. I’ll behave myself. If you insist.”

  She signaled the band to play a few bars as she switched off the mike and cast a worried look at Annie.

  “Looks like Marshall Stone bought an awful lot of the tickets,” Nell murmured.

  “He isn’t even here.”

  “Yes, he is. I saw him in the back.”

  “While I was blinded by the light. You set me up.”

  “I did not.” Nell made a motion to quiet the band and switched the mike back on. Ostentatiously, she closed her eyes. “Here we go.”

  Annie sent up a prayer. With any luck, the winner of the dance would be eight years old. She wouldn’t mind getting her feet stepped on by a half-pint cowboy.

  “And the winner is . . . the winner is . . . Jim Nickels! You out there, Jim?” Nell shielded her eyes from the spotlight and peered around. There was a commotion over at the side of the dance hall as Jim got up.

  Annie breathed a sigh of relief. Jim was someone she’d known in high school. He rose with the aid of his wife. He was on crutches, his lower leg encased in the kind of brace used for a badly sprained ankle.

  “Can’t dance worth a damn right now, Nell, but I’ll take that belt!” he called.

  “Sounds fair to me. Everyone okay with that?”

  Seemed so.

  “You stay right there, Jim,” Nell instructed him. “Annie will bring you the certificate.”

  Jim held up his winning ticket. “So which one of you buckaroos would like to dance with Annie?”

  The chorus of loud masculine yeses got a reluctant smile from Annie as she made her way to the man on crutches. She still didn’t see Marshall anywhere, no matter what Nell said.

  “You gotta be smooth,” Jim added. “No stepping on her feet or hugging her too hard.”

  “That’s right.” Annie laughed, trying to get into the spirit of things.

  She’d almost reached the man and his wife when a tall figure took the raffle ticket from Jim’s hand. He replaced it with a hundred-dollar bill, first making sure that the crowd saw the bill as he held it up high.

  “That’s an additional donation,” Marshall Stone called to Nell.

  “Mercy me! And after you bought so many tickets too,” Nell exclaimed. “Thank you, Mr. Stone!”

  Annie fumed.

  Stone grinned at her. He seemed awfully pleased with himself. She couldn’t very well say no and reject a cash donation of that size.

  Jim took the certificate from her. For a few seconds, she’d forgotten about it.

  Then Jim tucked the hundred-dollar bill into her hand. “Looks like you got yourself a partner, Annie.” He eased back down into his seat, being congratulated by his wife.

  Everyone seemed to think it was hilarious. She didn’t.

  For the people in attendance, it was only a passing moment. But Annie couldn’t help feeling like she’d just been bought and paid for in front of the entire town.

  Marshall Stone extended a hand. “Miss Bennett. May I have this dance?”

  “Guess so,” she gritted out.

  The music had begun again, a much slower number meant for couples to sway together, barely moving. Annie thought bitterly that Nell had to have planned that part.

  So she had ended up with Stone. Annie would just have to make the best of it. At least now that she was off the stage, she could see.

  He was wearing
what appeared to be his Saturday-night best, dark new jeans and a crisp western-cut shirt. His hair was freshly cut and his smile conveyed pride at his recent ploy to get her to dance.

  Pride and something else. Possessiveness.

  Stone moved toward her and Annie almost stepped back. Then she remembered she had to be a good sport. She went to him with her arms slightly lifted, accepting him as her partner as the onlookers in their immediate vicinity applauded.

  His strong hand slid around her waist and rested on the small of her back. With a jolt, she remembered where his hands had been before, when they’d kissed in the doorway.

  He pulled her discreetly closer. There were a few inches of distance between them, but the tips of her breasts just barely touched his muscular chest for a second. Maybe it was two seconds. The sensation was extraordinary, all the more so because she couldn’t pull away or make a fuss. And he hadn’t done anything that was remotely wrong.

  Smooth just so happened to be the right word to describe him.

  Their first few steps together told Annie that he was just as skilled at dancing as he was at kissing. With sensual ease, he guided her to the dance floor. She was aware of the other couples around them, but not for long.

  In Stone’s embrace, the rest of the world faded away. There was only him. The warmth of the powerful arms that held her so lightly made her want to rest her cheek against his chest, just as if they were lovers.

  She looked up unwillingly. Dark eyes gazed into hers. The fire in their depths was unmistakable. Annie couldn’t break away.

  Chapter 14

  Stone danced with her as if they’d been dancing together forever. He didn’t talk and neither did she. His body language said what he didn’t, conveying his ardent desire for her with the gentle pressure of his body. His long legs moved against and sometimes between her own, making her want to just climb up him and claim another kiss, if they were only someplace where no one was watching.

  The constantly shifting crowd kept them hemmed in and close together. The other couples were just as lost in the sensual slowness of the melody. But no other woman had the privilege of a first dance with Marshall. He was exclusively hers. Every move he made underscored that inescapable fact—and brought back the memory of that incendiary first kiss. And the second and third.