Cowboy Christmas

by Carol Finch, Elizabeth Lane

  Logan chuckled when he discovered this spirited female had planned to dispose of him—figuratively speaking—if he didn’t agree to her holiday charade. This was an entirely new twist from criminals who actually had been trying to kill him for years, in hopes of escaping the long arm of the law.

  “Mind if I ask why you didn’t inform your parents that I had to be on duty during the holidays and we couldn’t get away? That’s a reasonable explanation.”

  Tori went back to her restless pacing. Not that he minded. It gave him the opportunity to admire her feminine physique without staring rudely at her enticing curves and swells.

  “My older sister, Priscilla, her husband and her five-year-old son are coming from Boston for the holidays. It’s her yearly visit to Texas,” she elaborated. “Since I was busy establishing my business last year, I stayed here for the holidays. My parents sent out the royal command that you and I must put in an appearance because no one has met you. Therefore, I’m forced to produce you for their inspection or dispose of you and arrive in widow’s digs, lamenting my lost love.”

  “You wouldn’t have had to kill me off,” he suggested. “You could have hired an imposter since none of your family has met me. Edgar Scott from the general store has a terrible crush on you, you know. He might have taken the job for nothing.”

  She paused to glare over her shoulder at him. Then she wrinkled her nose, shook her mahogany-colored head and said, “Edgar isn’t my type.”

  “And I am?” he teased devilishly. “What is your type, Tori?”

  “You are having entirely too much fun at my expense,” she grumbled. “If I wasn’t at your mercy, I would have plenty to say about it, I promise you that.”

  Logan didn’t doubt it. From what he’d seen of Tori, she was a strong-minded, independent woman who could speak for herself. Still, knowing that about her, he couldn’t curtail the exotic speculations of what it might be like to have Tori at his mercy and wrapped up in his arms. Her hypnotic green eyes and kissable lips were inspiring all sorts of fantasies that he had trouble controlling.

  Logan gave himself a mental slap for what he was thinking and tried to distract himself by asking, “When do we leave for our holiday trip, dear?”

  “In two days, darling,” she replied, beaming with delight. “If you don’t have formal clothing for the Christmas Eve ball my parents host annually then—”

  “Whoa, hold your horses, honeybunch,” he hooted in interruption. “This pretend marriage is becoming more complicated by the minute. This is going to cost extra if I have to purchase formal clothing. Plus, I can’t dance.”

  She flicked her wrist dismissively. “Not to worry. I’ll teach you. Just pack your party manners and a stylish new suit and I’ll pay for the extra trouble. Even if this trip is going to be more expensive than I anticipated it will be well worth it to satisfy my family’s curiosity about our marriage.”

  Logan didn’t have any party manners and he was beginning to feel uncertain about pulling off the charade. He’d grown up in poverty in a border town in southern Texas. With only a few years of formal education under his belt he’d been forced to support himself by herding cattle, battling outlaws, renegade Indians and inclement weather.

  He had the sneaking suspicion that Tori Thurston came from money and that he was not her type at all. He was simply part of her white lie and she planned to tolerate his presence to save face with her stuffy family.

  Maybe being without family wasn’t so bad after all.

  He was on the verge of telling her the deal was off, no matter what she was paying for a hired husband. However, the moment he stared into those intriguing green eyes he sensed there was much more to the story. Something that drove her to swallow her pride and embarrassment and approach him with her unusual proposition.

  Unfortunately Logan didn’t have the chance to ask prying questions about the circumstances of this holiday get-together because Tanner commenced scraping his cup against the bars, demanding a drink of water and the mouthwatering pastries Tori had promised him.

  “Thank you, Logan. I’m indebted to you,” Tori murmured as she spun toward the door. “I’ll do my best to make this holiday with my family as painless as possible for you. Tell Tanner I’m on my way to fetch his confections.”

  She whizzed off like a whirlwind that had breezed in to disrupt his life then left his mind spinning with wary apprehension. His lack of proper upbringing would likely be glaringly apparent to the Thurstons of Fort Worth. He had earned respect in this town because he was handy with his fists and a variety of weapons and very little frightened him these days. But suddenly uncertainty and self-doubt hounded him. Feeling uneasy, he strode off to inform his prisoner that his bakery treats were on their way.

  Tori expelled a gigantic sigh of relief as she returned to the bakery. She anticipated several obstacles along the way, but she hoped to get through the holidays with her well-meaning but maddening family. With a little coaching for Logan, she felt certain she could fool her sister and parents into thinking she was happily married. That would complete the image of her successful career in this outpost community in West Texas that had become a thriving crossroads for travelers and supply wagons moving back and forth between army garrisons and trading posts.

  Her footsteps faltered when she looked beyond resolving the immediate problem of hiring a husband and speculated on the inevitability of visits to Fort Worth for future holidays.

  “Well, I’ll worry about that when the time comes,” she told herself dismissively. “Once I’ve produced a husband for their inspection, I can use the excuse that Logan has to remain in Lone Ridge to keep the peace while his deputy takes well deserved time off.”

  She had no idea what she’d do if her parents came to visit her. That was another bridge she’d cross later.

  After Tori unlocked the door to the bakery, several customers arrived. She set aside Tanner’s treats and the custard pie she planned to offer Logan for agreeing to play her charade. While she waited on her customers, it occurred to her that she didn’t know anything about Logan’s likes and dislikes, his taste in food, his leisure activities or anything else.

  All she knew was that the brawny lawman appealed to her physically and that pretending to be smitten with him in front of her family wouldn’t require a great deal of acting. All she had to do was venture close enough to inhale Logan’s masculine scent—just as she had done this morning when she leaned across his desk to get right in his handsome face. She’d stared at his sensuous lips and wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Then she’d become lost in those fathomless midnight-colored eyes that were surrounded by thick lashes.

  She knew absolutely nothing about his background but she speculated that his ancestry was a combination of white, Indian and Spanish. Whatever the exact combination, his dark complexion, dark eyes, thick raven hair and muscular physique was enough to make even the most self-disciplined and pragmatic woman—of which she prided herself in being—swoon.

  After the steady stream of customers made their purchases then trotted off, Tori gathered the pie and pastries to deliver to the jail. The prisoner licked his lips in eager anticipation when Tori crouched down to scoot the plate beneath the bars. He snatched up an apple tart, drizzled with icing, and bit into it. Then he leered at her and said, “Damn this tastes as good as you look, sugar.”

  “Watch your mouth, Tanner, or you can forget about your tasty treats.”

  When Logan’s deep voice rumbled close behind her, Tori nearly slammed face-forward into the barred door. She hadn’t heard him enter the back room. She pivoted in her crouched position to peer at Logan who loomed over the prisoner like a thundercloud. My, he can be extremely intimidating when he wants, she noted.

  Tanner, who was only two inches taller than Tori, snatched up all the treats and curled up on the cot before Logan did as he threatened. He shoved the pastries in his mouth with both hands. Disgusted by his table manners, Tori came to her feet and strode away. Wi
th Logan a step behind her, she halted beside the pie she had placed atop the oversize safe that graced the corner of the office.

  “This custard pie is my way of saying thank-you for your cooperation. If you don’t care for it, I’ll exchange it for one that I’m baking for Henry at the restaurant.”

  “Custard is fine.” Then he said unexpectedly, “I think we should go to dinner this evening. If we are pretending to be married, we need to get to know each other better before we arrive in Fort Worth.”

  “Of course, I was thinking the same thing myself.” She offered him a smile. “Shall I meet you at Porter’s Café after you’re off duty?”

  He shook his dark head. “I’ll pick you up at your house.”

  She arched a quizzical brow. “You know where I live?”

  He grinned wryly. “I am the city marshal, ya know. I make it my business to know everyone in town. It goes with the job of protecting the public. Last summer I followed you home one night after dark.”

  Her brow rose even higher and he added, “A drifter was trailing after you and I wanted to make sure he didn’t do something I was going to make him regret.”

  Tori inclined her head slightly. “Thank you for that. I guess I’ll see you this evening…”

  Her voice trailed off when the deputy entered the office. Although Gabe Horton’s complexion, his height and muscular stature were similar to Logan’s, it was the marshal who drew Tori’s gaze and inspired her speculative thoughts.

  Not that Gabe wasn’t appealing in his own right, she amended.

  He just wasn’t Logan Daniels.

  The auburn-haired deputy, who looked to be one or two years younger than Logan, glanced between them, and then stared at the pie sitting atop the safe. His brows rose in wry amusement as he turned his attention back to Logan. “What did you do to earn a special-delivery pie?”

  Logan ignored the teasing question and focused on Tori. “I’ll be there at seven.”

  “Be where at seven?” Gabe asked interestedly as he watched Tori’s hasty departure. “Did I miss something?”

  “Yep.” Logan scooped up a slice of pie then took a bite. His taste buds went into full-scale riot and the delicious dessert melted on his tongue. “Damn, that woman can cook like nobody’s business,” he said around the mouthful of food.

  “Not to mention that she looks good doing it.” Gabe helped himself to a slice. “I’ll ask again, Logan. What did you do to deserve this pie?”

  “I married her.”

  Gabe choked on his pie. Logan reached over to whack him between the shoulder blades until he caught his breath.

  “You what?” Gabe croaked, frog-eyed.

  “I’m going to Fort Worth with her in two days to become her holiday husband.”

  His longtime friend stared incredulously at him while Logan savored another bite of the tasty pie. Then Gabe said, “I don’t get it.”

  “You don’t have to get it. You just have to hold down the fort while I’m gone,” Logan said between mouthwatering bites of the best crust and flavorful filling he’d ever wrapped his gums around.

  “What’s going to happen tonight at seven?” Gabe wanted to know as he waggled his brows suggestively.

  All sorts of tantalizing visions danced in his head. None of them had anything whatsoever to do with holiday sugarplums or hasty pudding. They were erotic and arousing. Ruthlessly Logan squelched his provocative fantasies and said, “I’m taking Tori to supper so we can get to know each other better.”

  “Tori?” Gabe taunted wickedly. “You’re already calling her by a pet name? Didn’t know you’d worked past a first-name basis so quickly. Didn’t know you were such a ladies’ man, either.”

  Logan frowned darkly. “You know I’m not.”

  “Then why you instead of me?” Gabe wanted to know. “I can pretend to marry her and you can stay here for the holidays.”

  “She asked me first.” Logan took another heavenly bite of pie. “If she keeps bringing delicious pies, I’ll do anything else she asks, too.”

  A devilish grin pursed Gabe’s lips. “Damn, Logan, you’ve been as tough as nails for as long as I can remember. Never figured you for such a pushover.”

  “A man can change,” he contended as he brushed the flakes of piecrust off his shirt.

  “Right before my very eyes, too, it seems.” Gabe finished off his slice of pie. “Should’ve known your sweet tooth would become your downfall.” He wheeled toward the door then said over his shoulder, “I’ll be here at six o’clock to relieve you, Romeo. You’ll have time to swing by the boardinghouse to get spruced up before you pick up Tori.”

  “Thanks, I owe you.”

  “Damn right you do, friend,” Gabe said then left.

  Logan sat there for a long moment, telling himself that he had to keep his hands off the green-eyed beauty who was his pretend wife. In addition, he shouldn’t have that second piece of pie that was calling to him from atop the safe.

  “You can have one but not the other,” Logan bargained with himself.

  Then he got up and walked over to slice off a second helping of better-than-paradise pie.

  Chapter Two

  The moment Tori and Logan entered Porter’s Café, heads turned in synchronized rhythm. Whispered voices serenaded them as they crossed the dining room.

  “This is worse than the debutante ball my parents forced me to attend after my graduation from Miss Peabody’s Finishing School in Houston,” Tori mumbled.

  Logan nodded several greetings to acquaintances as he guided Tori to the corner table then seated himself with his back to the wall.

  “I see that you and Wild Bill Hickok follow the same policy,” she observed as she sat down next to Logan so she had a partial view of the customers in the restaurant.

  “It’s better to see trouble coming than to let it sneak up behind you. You know what happened to Hickok the one time he dispensed with caution.”

  She nodded grimly then changed the subject. “Where did you attend school? It’s important that we know each other’s background in case my parents fire questions.”

  “I lived with my mother until she contracted diphtheria and died.”

  “What of your father?” she asked. “Did you stay with him afterward?”

  Logan removed his Stetson then combed his hand through his thick raven hair. Tori’s fingers itched to do the same but she kept her hands clasped in her lap. It amazed her that she experienced the impulsive urge to reach out and touch Logan when other male acquaintances didn’t stir such unprecedented feelings inside her.

  “I wouldn’t know my father if I saw him.” Logan leaned forward to rest his elbows on the scarred table. “He must have been half Indian and half Mexican, I suppose…What about you?”

  “Mostly English ancestry. The prim and proper variety.” She smiled faintly. “I was the misfit who broke tradition and struck off to make my own life.”

  When Logan chuckled in amusement, a warm sensation flooded through her. For a moment, she forgot all eyes were on them, speculating about the extent of this budding friendship between them.

  “Your parents certainly can’t deny that you’ve made a success of your business.” He leaned away from her when Henry Porter set two cups of steaming coffee in front of them.

  When Henry strode off, promising to serve the house special, Tori shrugged. “I haven’t met my parents’ expectations, which is why you were dragged into these holiday festivities. You are keeping me from looking like the pathetic spinster compared to my bright, shining star of a sister.”

  Logan arched a dark brow. “Building your own business doesn’t count?”

  “No.” Tori took a cautious sip of hot coffee. “The Thurstons measure success for their women by another yardstick. I was the ugly duckling who lived in my sister’s shadow. I couldn’t compete with her when it came to meeting my family’s expectations and carrying on tradition.”

  Logan barked a laugh. “You aren’t an ugly duckling. One glance in
the mirror confirms that you’re attractive.”

  His compliment pleased her. “Late bloomer. But Priscilla is dainty, petite, blonde and blue-eyed like our mother. Men stumble all over themselves to stare at her.”

  She cast him a warning glance. “You will have to restrain yourself from doing the same. I am paying you well and you need to behave as if you only have eyes for me. It will be difficult, I promise you, when you clap eyes on Cilla.”

  Logan sat down his cup and regarded her pensively. “You don’t sound envious of your sister.”

  Tori blinked. “Why heavens no. However, there were times growing up when I resented my parents’ lack of consideration toward me. That had nothing to do with Cilla. She’s kind, gentle and deserving of the attention bestowed on her. It isn’t her fault that I didn’t fit the family mold and she never once tried to make me feel inferior.”

  When Henry delivered two juicy steaks, a heaped stack of potatoes and hot rolls, Logan’s stomach growled in hungry anticipation. He made a point to emulate Tori’s table manners for practice so he wouldn’t embarrass her when they arrived at her family’s home.

  Personally he couldn’t imagine how her parents could have ignored her in favor of their older daughter. Furthermore, he was curious to see if Priscilla was everything Tori claimed she was. And the blonde snip had better not look down her nose at Tori, Logan mused as he took a bite of steak. No one was going to overlook or criticize his wife when she went home for the holidays.

  Good Lord, what was he saying? He was playing a role that Tori designed for him. He had no reason to be possessive or emotionally involved. She was paying him for this temporary charade and he better not let himself forget it. Unfortunately appearing together in public in Lone Ridge had prompted local speculation and gossip to run rampant. Logan wondered how Tori planned to explain their lack of contact when they returned from Fort Worth and went their own way again.