“I don’t have a problem with the ‘at the farm’ part, I’m just not a big fan of Christmas.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that, and the more he professed indifference, the more determined she was to help him experience the joy of the holidays. “You don’t believe it’s the most wonderful time of the year?”
“I believe it’s the most hyped time of the year,” he said. “And that children who put their faith in Santa to deliver their heart’s desire are doomed to disappointment.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about something bigger than a race car track?” she asked, certain the answer to that question was the reason for his lack of holiday cheer.
He just shrugged.
“Apparently I’ve got my work cut out for me if I’m going to change your attitude about Christmas.”
“Let’s change the subject instead,” he suggested.
“Okay,” she relented. “But we’re going to circle back around to this one later.”
“Forewarned is forearmed.”
She tucked her arm through his and drew him toward one of the tents that had been set up near the barn. “Do you want a glass of hot cider? Or a sugar cookie?”
“It’s hard to resist cookies, but I don’t want to spoil my appetite for dinner,” he said.
“Then let’s go to the raffle tent,” she said, making a slight detour. “There are a lot of great prizes available, and it’s only five dollars a ticket.”
“That seems to be a theme with you,” he noted.
“What?” And then she made the connection and laughed. “Well, Hillary’s selling the tickets, so maybe she’ll give you a special deal—two for ten.”
“A bargain,” he agreed as they ducked into the tent.
When he’d gone home after the Yuletide Ghost Tour the previous evening, Evan had found himself second-guessing his impulsive decision to return to the farm today. He really did prefer to steer away from holiday events, not wanting his “bah, humbug” attitude to bring anyone else down. But Daphne had seemed genuinely disappointed when he’d declined her invitation, and he’d hated to be the one to dim her smile. And truthfully, as much as he would have preferred to avoid anything with twinkling lights or jingle bells, he couldn’t resist the lure that was Daphne.
And now that he was here, he was sincerely glad that he’d come. There was something about the sparkle in her eyes that seemed to light up everything around her. Though he wasn’t a fan of corny sentiments or romantic clichés, he thought Daphne Taylor might truly be one of those people who made the world a better place just by being in it.
If he believed in lucky stars, he might have found himself thanking them for putting him in the coffee shop the day that he’d overheard the conversation about the ghost horses at the former Whispering Willows Ranch, because that had been the first step in the journey that had brought him to her door. But he didn’t believe in such things and he didn’t like that the thought left an unsettled feeling in his gut.
“You seem to be deep in thought all of a sudden,” Daphne remarked.
“Actually, I was just thinking how glad I am that I came here today.”
“Imagine that,” she said. “Because I was just thinking how glad I am that you came here today, too.”
They walked around the tables, browsing the various prizes. He was surprised to find some pretty big-ticket items available, and some unique homemade ones—including a Santa’s village made entirely out of gingerbread, complete with Santa’s workshop, his house, a toy store, a candy shop and a post office.
“This is incredible,” he said, leaning in for a closer look at the intricate details on the buildings.
“Isn’t it?” Daphne agreed. “Each year that we’ve celebrated Christmas at the Farm, Elaine has made a Christmas village for our raffle—and each one has been a little bit different.”
“Is this the same Elaine who does your flowers in the summer?”
“You were obviously listening when I was talking,” she mused aloud.
“Is that so surprising?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I usually spend more time talking to animals than people, and I can never be sure how much they understand—though I’m sure it’s a lot more than most people give them credit for.
“But yes,” she said, finally answering his question. “It’s the same Elaine. She was here earlier, but she didn’t stay long. She had to get home to finish another gingerbread village for her church bake sale.”
“You have to know that you’d make more money if you had people bid on some of these prizes,” he said.
“You’re not the first person to suggest that,” she told him. “But then the prizes would always end up going to whoever has the deepest pockets. This way, everyone who buys a ticket has an equal chance of winning.”
He would have focused on maximizing the profits rather than evening the odds, but this was her event, so he kept that thought to himself.
“How many tickets did you buy?” he asked instead.
“None,” she said. “I can’t deny that I was tempted—and I would have put them all in the box for Elaine’s gingerbread village, which, by the way, tastes as good as it looks. But could you imagine how it would look if my ticket was pulled?”
“So it’s probably not a good idea for me to buy a bunch of tickets and put your name on them?” he teased.
“No,” she confirmed. “But you could buy a bunch in your own name and then gift the village to me if you won it. Even half of the village would make me happy. Or even just a roof off one of the buildings.”
He was still chuckling over that when Daphne was snagged by a visitor asking about puppies available for adoption. Promising to be right back, she left him in the raffle tent.
Evan hadn’t come here with the intention of spending any money—wasn’t it enough that Happy Hearts was getting a portion of his ticket sales? But there were a few prizes that might make decent gifts for his sister or mom or grandma, so he pulled out his wallet.
Still, he was frowning as he exchanged bills for tickets, wondering what had come over him that he was suddenly willing to part with his hard-earned money. Growing up poor had taught him the importance of saving rather than spending, and though it had been a lot of years since he’d had to keep track of every dollar in and out, he still had his own bills to pay.
Then he remembered Winnie, the lame sheep, and acknowledged that, even if he didn’t win anything, the raffle was for a good cause.
* * *
Evan wasn’t surprised that there were still stragglers hanging around well after five o’clock, which was one of the reasons he’d made a reservation at DJ’s Deluxe for seven o’clock. Thankfully Daphne had a lot of volunteers on hand to help pack up leftover cookies and unclaimed prizes and break down the tents and other displays. He lent a hand, too, happy to help, and Daphne took advantage of the opportunity to “freshen up” before they went for dinner, inviting him to let himself into her house through the back door when he was finished folding tables and stacking chairs.
He didn’t rush. In his experience, a woman who said she only needed five minutes to get ready wasn’t likely to appear before thirty minutes had passed. Of course, Daphne wasn’t like any other woman he’d dated, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when he walked into the mudroom and found her by the door, already sliding her feet into low-heeled boots that were—in his estimation—a definite step up from the serviceable thick-soled boots she’d been tramping around in all day.
But it was the dress that made him say, “Wow.”
And the sharp bark that made him jump back.
“Yes, you’re a good boy to let me know someone’s at the door,” Daphne said to the dog. “But when I’m standing right here, you should trust that I can see him, too.”
Barkley’s tail wagged
happily.
Evan crouched down and held out his hand for the dog to sniff. “Do you remember me?”
Barkley sniffed, then licked, then lifted his paw.
“Am I supposed to sniff?” Evan wondered.
Daphne chuckled. “No, you’re supposed to shake.”
“Well, aren’t you a clever boy?” he said, shaking the dog’s paw.
Barkley’s tail wagged some more.
Evan gave him a pat on the head, then straightened up to his full height and refocused his attention on Daphne. “Did I say ‘wow’ already?”
She nodded, an unexpectedly tentative smile on her face. “So this is okay? I’m not overdressed?”
He shook his head. “You’re perfect.”
She exhaled a sigh of relief. “I picked out the dress this morning, and then I spent all day second-guessing my choice because I didn’t know where we were going or even what exactly this is tonight.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know what this is?” he asked, sincerely baffled by her question.
“Well, you invited me to dinner, so I thought maybe it was a date...but then you said you wanted to talk about the tour, so I started wondering if it was supposed to be a business meeting instead.”
“I think I understand your confusion,” he said. “Now let’s see if I can clear it up.”
Then he kissed her.
And it was every bit as toe curling as Daphne had hoped it might be.
His arms came around her, holding her loosely as his mouth, warm and firm, moved against hers with masterful skill, making her blood race and her head buzz. She lifted her hands to his shoulders, holding on to him as the world swayed around her.
It was the same every time he kissed her.
Just the touch of his lips against hers made the rest of the world fade away so that there was only the two of them in the here and now. No one and nothing else mattered.
Daphne wondered how it was possible that he could taste so familiar when it was their first kiss. How she could be certain that she’d never felt safer than when she was in his arms when this was the first time he’d held her.
She knew who might have the answers to some of those questions, but she set them aside for the moment to focus on the simple enjoyment of being kissed.
And when Evan finally eased his mouth from hers, they were both a little breathless.
“So...it’s a date,” she said, her lips still tingling from the pressure of his.
“I sincerely hope so,” he said. “And we’ve got a seven o’clock reservation—” he glanced at the watch on his wrist “—so we need to get going if we’re not going to be late.”
Daphne said goodbye to Barkley and locked up the house.
“Going where?” she asked, as he opened the passenger side door of his SUV for her.
“DJ’s Deluxe.”
The upscale barbecue restaurant, boasting an extensive wine and craft beer list in addition to the finest cuts of meat, had been incredibly popular since it opened in the spring. As a result, reservations were a must, with Saturday nights usually booking up several weeks in advance.
She fastened her seat belt as Evan slid behind the wheel and started the engine.
“How did you manage to get a table on such short notice?”
“I lucked out,” he said. “Just before I called to make a reservation, someone else had called to cancel theirs.”
“That was lucky,” she agreed.
He turned into the parking lot and found a vacant spot. “Have you been here before?”
“Once,” she said. “My friend Brittany got married here a couple months ago.”
He opened her door for her. “Brittany Brandt?”
“She goes by Brandt Dubois now.” Daphne took the hand he offered as she slid out of the passenger seat. “But you probably know that, considering that she used to work for you.”
He nodded slowly. “And now I’m wondering what my former employee might have said to you about me.”
“Nothing that made me hesitate to accept your invitation to dinner,” she assured him.
“That’s a relief,” he said, leading her toward the entrance. “Because I don’t think she loved her job at Bronco Ghost Tours.”
“Not just because you were a demanding boss,” she said teasingly. “But because she always wanted to be an event planner, and now she is.”
“Then I’m happy for her,” he said, pulling open the door and gesturing for her to enter.
The warmth was a welcome change from the frigid air outside, the air tinged with the scents of grilled meat and sweet barbecue sauce.
“Mmm... I’ll bet your mouth is already watering for DJ’s famous ribs—or maybe a nice juicy steak,” he said. “I know mine is.”
Daphne was baffled that he would imagine any such thing—not just because he’d been given a detailed tour of Happy Hearts and met so many of the farm’s rescued residents, but because she thought everyone in town knew that her vegetarianism was a major reason for the rift with her cattle ranching father.
He gave his name to the hostess, who immediately showed them to their table for two. The high ceiling with open rafters was undoubtedly a trendy design, if a little stark for her personal taste. She’d much preferred the way the room had looked when it was decorated for Brittany and Daniel’s wedding, with lots of greenery and pink tulips and a gorgeous floral arch under which the bride and groom had exchanged their vows.
But she probably shouldn’t be thinking about weddings when this was only a first date, so she pushed the romantic image out of her mind as the hostess handed them each a leather folio and set a drink menu on the table.
“Gerald will be with you shortly,” she promised.
“Do you want to look at the wine list? They have some great cocktails, too, if that’s more your thing,” Evan said, handing her the menu.
She perused the offerings, pleased to discover her favorite red was available by the glass, then returned the menu to Evan.
Gerald introduced himself as he poured ice water into the goblets on the table. The server was dressed similarly to his colleagues, in black pants with a white button-down shirt and black butcher-style apron.
“Can I get you anything from the bar while you’re looking at the menu?” he asked.
“I’ll have a glass of the Brick House Pinot Noir, please,” Daphne said.
“And for you, sir?” the server asked Evan.
“I’ll try a pint of the Ale Works IPA,” he decided.
“Can we get a basket of garlic knots to munch on while we’re figuring out what else we want to eat?” Daphne asked, looking to Evan for a sign of agreement.
He nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
“Coming right up,” Gerald replied.
“I skipped lunch today,” Daphne confided after their server had gone. “And the garlic knots here are amazing.”
“Why did you skip lunch?”
“Because I was chasing Agatha around the barn.”
“Agatha’s...a goat?”
She nodded. “A cranky old goat.”
“How did she get out?”
“That was my fault,” Daphne confided. “I didn’t properly latch the gate when I went into her pen to refill her water bowl and she snuck out.”
“How long did it take you to catch her?”
“I didn’t. Rudy—one of the co-op students—lured her back with a piece of banana.”
“She likes bananas?”
“Not usually, but she loves Rudy.”
Evan chuckled at that. “Your co-op students work weekends?”
“They aren’t required to, but the ones who really enjoy working with animals sometimes come in for a few hours on Saturday and/or Sunday. I was fortunate to have both Rudy and Samantha on hand for most of the day today.�
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“They must enjoy the work.”
“Some parts are more fun than others, but they don’t usually grumble too much about the less fun parts.”
She smiled her thanks to Gerald when he delivered their drinks, and she’d only taken a first sip of her wine when he was back again with a basket of warm bread and two plates.
Evan nudged the basket closer to Daphne. “Dig in.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she said, pulling out a twist of bread brushed with garlic butter and dusted with parmesan cheese.
She tore off a piece and popped it into her mouth, humming with approval.
“Good?” Evan asked, selecting a garlic knot for himself.
“Sooo good,” she said.
He took a bite and nodded his head in agreement.
“It looked like you had a good turnout for Christmas at the Farm today,” he noted.
“It was a good turnout,” she confirmed. “Every year, it gets just a little bit bigger, which usually means a little bit more money for the animals. And, as an added bonus, we finalized seven adoptions today—four cats and three dogs went to new homes.”
“Were they the puppies that you were talking to Hillary about?”
“No, those ones are still too young to be adopted.”
“What kind are they?”
“Golden retriever–basset hound mix. Why—are you looking to adopt?” she asked hopefully.
He immediately shook his head. “Don’t you remember me telling you about my houseplant?”
“I do,” she confirmed, reaching into the basket for another garlic knot. “But a houseplant doesn’t tell you that it needs to be watered.”
“It also doesn’t chew the furniture or pee on the carpet.”
“Fair point,” she acknowledged.
“I was only asking because I didn’t remember seeing any puppies when you gave me the tour of Happy Hearts last week.”
“Right now, they’re being fostered off-site.”
“So how do visitors know that they’re available for adoption?”
“We have pictures on the website,” she said. “The adoption tab has a drop-down menu so that visitors can view dogs or cats or other small animals. We’ve already received more than a dozen adoption applications for the six puppies—four girls and two boys.”
A Cowboy's Christmas Carol Page 6
