Santa Wore Spurs

by Various

  Fighting wasn't a good example for Jeremy either.

  Dean shoved up to his feet then said gruffly, "Everything's fine, Jeremy. You need to go in the kitchen so I can fix us breakfast."

  Cord noticed that they had knocked his mother's flower arrangement off the coffee table. Crushed stems littered the floor and water pooled near the edge of the rug. They needed to clean that up fast. "I'll get the broom and a towel," Cord said as he walked toward the kitchen.

  "You and your friend can come back up to the house and eat breakfast with us if you want. There's nothing out there to eat," Dean grumbled as he walked behind Cord.

  The thought of Hope out in the dirty bunkhouse waiting for him brought about thoughts of why it was dirty and emotion shot up to his throat again. His daddy was dying. How the hell could he eat? "I'm not very hungry, and I think Hope ate before I picked her up this morning...but thanks. I'm going to get some supplies and clean up the bunkhouse."

  "It could use it. That's on my list, but I haven't gotten around to it," Dean said with a huffed breath.

  Cord went to the pantry and pulled out the broom and a dust pan. "Scratch it off your list. I'll take care of it," he said as he walked back to the living room.

  After sweeping up the flowers and leaves, Cord righted the vase. Thank goodness they hadn't broken the glass. His mother would have killed them. It was one she'd had for years. He dumped the dust pan into the garbage then filled a sack with cleaning supplies. On the way back through the kitchen, he told Dean, "I'll bring the broom back afterwhile."

  "You might want to get some sheets and bedding too. I brought it all up to the house this fall to wash. It's clean, but I haven't had the time to take it back out there yet," Dean said as he pulled a skillet from under the stove. "You're probably going to have to air out the mattresses too. I'm sure they're pretty musty."

  In that moment, it became crystal clear to Cord what his brother had been through trying to keep the ranch up alone. Trying to hold the family together when his daddy got sick while Cord was out chasing a dollar. Another sheet of guilt plopped down on the bed of regrets he had made for himself. Determination to make up for it coursed through him. But he didn't think he'd ever be able to do enough to make it up to Dean. Or to his family.

  Cord hefted the bag of supplies into his arms and walked toward the front door. "I'll get them all made up and the bunkhouse cleaned."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Hope gasped when Cord walked through the door of the bunkhouse. She ran over to take the broom and mop from him. "What the hell happened to you?" she demanded, putting her hand on his cheek. Cord flinched as pain shot through his jaw. "Your shirt is almost torn off of you!"

  "Dean and I had a little misunderstanding," he replied, pulling away to walk toward the kitchen. He put the supplies on the rough wooden table.

  "Misunderstanding?" she squeaked incredulously. "It looks like you've been in a fight with an alley cat and lost. Your jaw is swollen too," she informed as if he didn't know that. Hope shook her head. "I don't think it was a good idea for us to come here. Let's just head back to Dallas. We'll find someplace there for the shoot."

  "I'm not going back to Dallas," he replied gruffly as his conversation with Dean replayed in his mind. His daddy was dying. Emotion shot up to his throat, so much of it, he swayed on his feet. Cord pulled out a chair and sat down before he fell down.

  "What's wrong with you? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

  "No. I'm fine," he replied with a grunt then laid his head on the table, taking deep, even breaths to get himself together.

  He heard a chair scrape the floor then felt Hope's body heat as she sat down beside him. She rubbed her hand in the center of his back as she asked gently, "What's wrong, Cord?"

  Cord swallowed then tried to modulate his voice as he said, "I can't talk about it right now." Men don't cry, Cord reminded himself. If he talked about this right now, that is exactly what he was afraid would happen.

  The strong man he'd admired all his life was dying, and he'd lost three years with him because of his selfishness and stupidity. Maybe if he had stayed in Tyler where he belonged, his daddy wouldn't have gotten sick. Maybe his brother wouldn't look like he was about to have a breakdown too. Cord didn't even want to see his mother. She was probably the same way. This was all his fault.

  Hope's arm went around his shoulder and she squeezed him. Then, she laid her cheek on his shoulder. "Talk to me, Cord. Something is wrong and I want to help."

  "I think it would be better if we call off the shoot and I take you back to Dallas. I've got other things to deal with around here." Getting back at Tonya Laramie was the last thing on his mind. The money from the calendar probably wouldn't do enough to help the situation either. It would be too little, too late. Cord knew they probably wouldn't get paid on it until after the first of the year.

  Taking time to do the shoot would just mean less time for him to help Dean get the ranch fixed. Less time for him to spend with his daddy before he died. Cord sucked in a shuddering breath, trying to shore up the dam holding back the emotions inside of him.

  Dead silence settled between them. Cord thought Hope might have even stopped breathing. "We'll call it off if that's what you want to do, but only if you tell me what's wrong," she said quietly.

  Cord released his breath. A tremor passed through him and he had to force the words past the lump in his throat. "My daddy is dying and the ranch is too. My brother is overwhelmed and I need to help him."

  Hope gasped and threw her arms around his neck then buried her face in his shoulder. "Oh, Cord...I'm so sorry."

  "It's going to be tough for a while, but we'll pull things together. I just haven't had a chance to process it all yet," he said as he stood. "If you get your stuff together, we can get going so I can get back by dusk."

  Hope didn't stand up, she just looked at him. Her clear, green eyes held sympathy, but determination too. "I'd like to stay and help too. I don't know anything about horses and cows, but I do know how to clean."

  Cord snorted. "How's that, Tinkerbell? You think because you watched the maid crew clean your mansion, you can handle it?" he asked. His eyes darted to her lily white, soft-as-a-baby's-butt hands. She curled her fingers into her palms then put them in her lap.

  They were wasting time here. Cord needed to get her to Dallas so he could get back home to help his family. Hope Carlisle might have good intentions, but that didn't negate the fact she was a socialite. Someone used to having people do things for her. She could no more handle ranch life than he could handle a cotillion ball. All she would do if she stayed was get in his way.

  Her shoulders stiffened and her eyes sparked with anger. "My grandma made sure I wasn't useless. I know how to clean and cook thanks to her," she said indignantly. "She was the toughest woman I know and she just happened to marry into money. She never had a cook or maids, and my grandpa loved her for that."

  Hope knew what it was like to lose someone she loved. She knew that Cord was only lashing out at her because she was here and he was hurting. She might have been raised in a wealthy home, but Hope was a real person with real feelings, and he’d just stepped on them. Teensy Carlisle made sure her granddaughter not only knew which fork to use at a formal dinner, but that Hope knew how to wash that fork after dinner.

  Cord Dixon's automatic assumptions about her because of her upbringing were insulting. Hope sucked in a breath to calm herself and decided to try again. "I'm not afraid of hard work, Cord. I really do want to help. Just tell me what I can do."

  His blue eyes widened. "You really want to stay?"

  "Yes, I do," she replied, stiffening her spine.

  Cord's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

  Hope shrugged. "I could use the distraction." And that was the truth. It would also give her time to think about what she was going to do about Bridezilla. "Don't you need the help?"

  Cord studied her for a moment before he said, "If you're up to it. Yeah, I could use the help. You probably
want to be with your family for Thanksgiving though so I'll take you back to Dallas in a few days."

  Hope laughed. That was as close to a joke as she could imagine. "No, I'm sure they have a vacation planned. That's how my family spends holidays. But they're mad at me, so I'm sure I'm not invited this year."

  Her family rarely spent holidays together. They took exotic vacations, but once they reached their destination they all went their separate ways. That didn't mean she should intrude here though. His daddy was sick, and the family needed time together to come to grips with that. "But I don't want to intrude on your holidays, so you can take me back when you get tired of me."

  When Cord didn't respond, Hope looked back at him and saw his eyes were on her mouth. Her lips tingled and she brushed her fingers over them. His deep voice vibrated through her as he said, "We'll just play it by ear. I'm sure Mama wouldn't mind one more for dinner."

  His full lips widened into a sexy smile that hit her in the solar plexus. It reached his eyes and did amazing things to them. This man had machismo in spades. Sexy came naturally to him. Hope was sure he had that effect on most women, but she’d never met a man who had that kind of effect on her. He made her itchy inside, nervous.

  "Let's get busy," he said and Hope's heart skipped a beat.

  "I need to change," she said, looking down at her silk shirt, designer jeans, and high heeled boots.

  "I'll drag in your suitcase," he offered with a smile as he held out his hand to her. "I'm sure it weighs a hundred pounds."

  Hope took his hand and he pulled her up then took a step back. She stepped forward and surprised him when she put her arms around his waist. Laying her cheek against his chest, she hugged him. "I'm so sorry about your daddy, Cord."

  Cord's heart stuttered then raced. Even through his shirt and t-shirt, her heated breath burned his skin. She put her hand over his heart, and he held back a groan as he pushed back from her. "Thanks for staying to help."

  For good measure, he took another step back.

  "You're welcome. Now what do we do first?" she asked with enthusiasm.

  Her dark lashes swept over her big, green eyes twice and Cord was captivated. His eyes drifted to her lips, and he fought the urge to taste their sweetness. This woman wasn't only beautiful. There was something else about her that called to him. Some inner goodness that sucked him in like quicksand.

  The women he was used to dating weren't like her. They only liked him because he was good looking, semi-famous, and they thought he had money. Arm candy that made them feel important. That's all he was to them. Not a one of them had called since he got fired from Laramie. Not one would give a damn that his daddy was sick or offer to help him. Hope had offered because she seemed to care, and she didn't really even know him or his father. Her guileless eyes told him that it wasn't an act either. She was just a good person. A real person. Despite her upbringing with the socially elite.

  Cord was glad he’d met her and he wanted to get to know her better, but that couldn't be his focus right now. If Hope Carlisle became a burden or hindrance to his setting things right at the ranch, he'd load her up in his truck and haul her ass back to Dallas without blinking.

  "Cord?"

  Her soft voice brought his eyes back to hers. He hardened his heart against the look he saw there. "I appreciate your help. But I can't babysit you, Tinkerbell. I have things I have to take care of here. I won’t let anything or anyone get in my way." Her smile faded, which told him she got the message. But, dammit, he liked her smile. Too much. "Um, I'll be right back with your suitcase," Cord mumbled then spun on his heel.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Standing on her tiptoes, Hope scrubbed at a cloudy spot on the window at the front of the bunkhouse while she admired the beautiful colors painting the sky as the sun faded behind the trees. A fly picked that opportune moment to buzz around her head. It landed on her forehead, and without thinking, Hope slapped at it with her soapy, gloved hand. Soap slid over her eyebrows and right into her eyes.

  She gasped and squeezed them tight, flailing her hands and trying to figure out what to do. She couldn't rub them, she only had on a tank top so there wasn't enough material to wipe with, and she couldn't see to go to the bathroom and wash them out.

  "Help!" she shouted as she blindly tugged at the gloves while trying to get them off, but they were suctioned to her hands. She rubbed her face against her shoulder, hoping to hit the thin strap of the tank top.

  "Hey—are you okay?" Cord shouted from the kitchen then she heard his boot heels tapping on the wooden plank floor she had just mopped a few minutes ago.

  "Your boots are dirty!" she wailed, wiping at her eyes with the hem of her dirty tank top. "You're gonna mess up the floor!"

  "Oh, sorry!" His steps stopped. Hope heard him grunt and figured he must be pulling them off. One clattered on the floor then the other. She fanned her eyes with her gloved fingers then gave up to rub them with her fists. "Oh, man this burns."

  Cord stopped beside her to pull her arm away from her face. Hope couldn't pry her eyes open. "What the hell did you do?" he demanded gruffly.

  "I tried to swat a stupid fly and soap got in my eyes."

  "One second," he said as he stepped back from her. The next second he was back. His warm fingers closed over her chin, and he gently dabbed at her eyes with a cool cloth, then wiped her face. Cord grabbed her hand to pull her across the floor toward the kitchen. "I think we're gonna need more water. You probably have makeup in there too."

  Cord stopped at the sink and she heard running water. He swiped an even wetter rag over her eyes. Droplets of cold water streamed down her face and onto her chest. Her nipples hardened and Hope gasped. Cord's hands stilled for a second then he started wiping again.

  When the stinging in her eyes finally stopped, she grabbed his forearm to stop him and opened her eyes. Not two inches from her nose was his firmly muscled bare chest. Cord had evidently been using his shirt to wipe her face. Every tight ripple in his abdomen was on prime display. All the way down to the low slung waistband of his faded jeans. Her eyes followed the dark, thin happy trail bisecting his stomach until it ended there.

  Water droplets scattered across the smooth skin of his chest, and Hope fought the urge to lean forward and lick them off. Her head even gravitated that way until she caught herself.

  Cord's eyes darted to the front of her wet tank top then back to her eyes. He put his hand on the side of her face and his eyes met hers. "Burning stop?" he asked, his voice more gravelly than usual.

  "Yes, thanks for saving me," she said with a smile.

  His thumb brushed over her lower lip, and the burning started elsewhere. His eyes followed his thumb as it made a second pass over her lip. Hope's knees went weak and she put her hand on his shoulder. Cord put his hand over hers and pulled it off. Heat baked her face as she stepped back from him.

  "Gloves," he explained with a chuckle, his blue eyes shining. "I don't want to get soap in my eyes too." Cord took her hand and removed one glove then the other, and threw them in the sink before he gently put her hand back on his shoulder.

  Their eyes met, and Hope held her breath. As his head lowered toward hers, his breath brushed her mouth before his lips met hers. The kiss was soft, sweet, and too fast for her to fully enjoy. A soft breath escaped Hope as he pulled back.

  If she was bolder, Hope would take that one step separating them and demand a better kiss. Lay one on him that wouldn't end anywhere other than the bedroom. Be the aggressor for a change. But she couldn't. One thing had stuck from the lessons of her upbringing. Hope was circumspect. A lady. She could think those naughty things all she wanted and she did—often. But to act on them? No way. That's how the men in her circle expected her to be. She had a feeling Cord Dixon would be different, but she didn't have the courage to find out.

  It was probably a good thing though.

  The fire and wildness in Cord's eyes kind of scared her. If he did kiss her for real, she would probably melt into a p
uddle at his feet. Lord knew what would happen if they made love. She'd probably spontaneously combust.

  "Thank you for working so hard today," Cord said, adding that grin that did all kinds of strange things to her system. "You have to be hungry. We didn't even stop for lunch."

  Her stomach growled and she put her hand there. "Yeah, I'm starving, but there's nothing out here to cook."

  "I saw Mama come back a while ago, so she probably has supper ready. If she doesn't, Dean probably cooked. Let's go up there so you can meet them."

  Hope's stomach lurched. Meeting his family in the midst of them dealing with his daddy's illness would be awkward. But it would be rude to refuse since she was going to be around for a few days. "Okay, let me go get cleaned up a little."

  Cord rolled his blue eyes and gave her a typical male response. "You look fine."

  Dust bunnies from under the beds had made nests in her hair, her clothes were sweat soaked, and she smelled like Pine Sol, but she looked fine. He wouldn't tell her if it looked like she had rolled around in a pigsty if it meant delaying his dinner. She was hungry too, but Hope was at least changing her clothes and washing up before she met his family. "Cord, I am not going up there to meet your family looking like something the cat dragged in!"

  His hot eyes raked down her body before gliding back to hers. "Honey, if the cat dragged you in, I'd be feeding that cat tuna for life along with bowls of cream at night." The man actually licked his lips. All the moisture in her body headed south, and Hope stifled the urge to mewl like a cat herself as thoughts of that tongue tracing paths over her body flitted through her mind.

  With a shake of her head, Hope mumbled, "I won't take long." Turning, she all but ran out of the kitchen before she did something out of character. Like throw Cord Dixon down on that shiny kitchen floor and have her way with him.