A Cowboy Family Christmas

by Judy Duarte

  He grinned.

  And why wouldn’t he? He probably thought she was flirting with him, that she had something romantic on her mind, but she didn’t. Well, maybe just a little, but she wouldn’t allow her curiosity and sexual awareness to get the better of her.

  “No overalls today?” he asked, arching a single brow.

  “They’re in the laundry. I have two pairs, actually. But I don’t always wear them. I like them, though. I got them on sale at the local feed store. Very utilitarian. You know?”

  She nearly winced at her response. Could she sound any more ditzy or moonstruck?

  He nodded, his gaze again scanning her from the topknot on her head to her shoes, then back again. Her toes curled inside her sneakers, causing her to sway. Oh, for Pete’s sake. She had to put a stop to the girlishness. She was practically swooning.

  Back to business. She turned to the counter, picked up a spoon and started stirring the chili in the pot.

  “So when will you finish those repairs?” she asked, her back to him.

  “I tore apart the old porch and hauled off all the bad wood. I’ll start on the new carpentry tomorrow.”

  “That’ll make entering the front door a little awkward. It’s a big step.”

  “Not for me.”

  No, she supposed it wouldn’t be. The man had to be six feet tall or more. Looking at his handsome face was hard enough. But when he spoke with a faint Southern drawl, his voice had a lulling effect on her.

  She placed the spoon on a plate, stepped away from the stove, then brushed her hands on her denim-clad hips, as if her jeans had somehow gotten dusty.

  Oh, my gosh. Stop fidgeting and get it together, Lainie.

  She offered him her best attempt at an unaffected smile and changed the subject yet again. “I hope you like chili beans and corn bread because that’s on the menu for lunch.”

  “It sounds good.”

  Her face heated. She hadn’t meant to tell him something he could figure out for himself by looking at the stove, but the man was too distracting.

  “I was going to interview one of the retired cowboys before we eat,” he said. “But now that I’ve caught a mouthwatering aroma of what’s to come, I’d rather hang out in here. Is there anything I can do to help you?” He nodded toward the cupboard. “I’d be happy to set the tables.”

  “Sure, thanks.”

  Nate and the young ranch hands usually ate in the kitchen. The retirees were served in the dining room. But he’d know that from being there for several meals, so there was no need to offer further instruction.

  Off he went with the plates into the dining room. Moments later he returned for the silverware.

  As he moved about the kitchen, close enough to bump into her, close enough for her to catch his musky scent, it was difficult to think, let alone respond to any friendly chatter.

  She ought to be thankful for his help, but the only thing that would truly help her right now would be for him to go in search of one of the cowboys, like he’d planned to do.

  “I can finish up,” she told him. “Why don’t you round up someone to interview before lunch?”

  And take your sexy smile, hunky self and mesmerizing scent with you.

  * * *

  Drew didn’t know why he’d insisted on helping Lainie in the kitchen. As a kid, he’d resented doing what he’d considered women’s work. But later, after his mother started chemo and was sick more often than not, he’d taken on meal preparation for their family of three. That included the planning, shopping and cooking. So he’d gained a new respect for cooks—male or female.

  But that still didn’t explain why he’d stepped up and was now counting out mismatched flatware from the drawer. Lainie was certainly capable of handling things on her own.

  The fact that he found her attractive was undoubtedly a contributing factor. And if anything, the more time he spent with her, the more appealing he found her to be.

  She didn’t wear makeup, which gave her a wholesome, girl-next-door look, which he found alluring. Hot, even. And her faint floral scent? It was enough to make a man perk up and take notice of her every move.

  She rocked those baggy jeans and that oversize T-shirt like an urban model, the kind that didn’t give a damn about what other people thought. And she pulled it off right down to her sneakers.

  Once again his mind drifted to the mouse encounter, when he’d gotten a peek at her shapely legs and those sexy panties, and he’d begun to see her in a whole new light. An arousing one.

  He found the contradiction, the soft femininity of silk and lace hidden behind durable denim, to be incredibly sensual. It not only spiked his testosterone, it piqued his curiosity. And that, he decided, was what prompted him to offer his help today.

  After he finished setting both tables, he returned to the kitchen, pausing just inside the doorway to watch Lainie work. Her back was to him, so she was unaware that he’d stolen the opportunity to study her.

  She snatched a potholder from the counter, then opened the oven door, withdrew the corn bread and placed it on one side of the stovetop to cool. Next she checked the chili beans simmering in a pot.

  Rather than continue to admire her, Drew said, “I finished setting the table. Is there anything else I can do?”

  She turned to face him, her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. She touched her collar, fiddling with the top button. When she caught his eye, her hand dropped to her side.

  “You can fill the glasses with ice.” She nodded to the countertop, where two large gallon jars held tea. “Most of the men like to have sweet tea with all their meals.”

  “Consider it done.”

  As Drew made his way toward the cupboard and near Lainie, she bit down on her bottom lip. “Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate this, but I’m not used to having help.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  She offered him a waifish smile. Something in those expressive brown eyes suggested that she’d been on her own for a while. And that it hadn’t been by her own choosing.

  He pulled glasses from the cupboard. “You mentioned having a twin—and that you hadn’t seen her in a while.”

  When Lainie didn’t immediately respond, he realized that he’d overstepped. He didn’t have the right to pry or to ask about the dynamics of her family, but for some reason, his curiosity grew too strong to ignore.

  “I take it you and your sister aren’t very close,” he said, prodding her.

  “We used to be.” Her voice came out soft, fragile, stirring his sympathy along with his interest.

  “Did you have a falling-out?” he asked.

  She paused for the longest time, and he just stood there, a glass in hand, waiting while the moment turned awkward.

  He was about to apologize for getting too personal when she said, “Her name is Erica, but I called her Rickie. We haven’t seen each other since we were nine and she was adopted.”

  Wow. Drew hadn’t seen that coming.

  “Were you adopted, too?” he asked.

  “No, I...remained in foster care.”

  The waning sense of awkwardness rose up again, stronger than ever. Under any other circumstances, he might have turned away, changed the subject. Yet he felt compelled to dig for more information, even though each time she answered one of his questions, it only served to trigger another.

  “Have you considered looking for her?” he asked. “I mean, now that you’re adults.”

  “I think about that all the time, but it was a closed adoption, so there’s not much I can do.”

  “Feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but why didn’t her parents adopt you, too?”

  “It’s complicated.” She reached for her collar again. A nervous habit, he supposed. “We were both living in foster care at the
time. I... Well, I had a few health problems back then and was moved to a home with better access to medical care. While I was gone, a family came along and chose her, but not me.”

  “I’m sorry.” That must have hurt like hell.

  “Don’t be. I was sad, but I understood why. I’ve dealt with it.”

  “Have you?”

  “I just said I had.”

  “I mean, most kids would have felt hurt, left out, rejected. Some might even carry those feelings for years.”

  “Not me. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’m sorry if I stirred up any sad memories.”

  She shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve dealt with it.” Then she turned her back to him and returned to her work, ending a conversation that had gotten way too personal and revealing for his own good.

  Yet for some crazy reason, he was tempted to embrace her, to press her head to his shoulder and tell her he sympathized with her over the rejection and the loss of her sister. But he didn’t.

  He might be a sucker for innocent, vulnerable women, but he wasn’t about to take on another one now. Not when he had his plate full with a pregnant sister on bed rest.

  “How about you?” Lainie asked. “Do you have any siblings?”

  “Yes, a kid sister.” And she was the only family he had left. Well, so far. “She’s expecting a baby boy at the end of March.”

  “That’s nice. Uncle Drew, huh?”

  He grinned. “That’s right.”

  “I take it you’re close.”

  “Yeah, we’re pretty tight.” At Kara Lee’s wedding, Drew had been the one to give her away. Then he’d stood back, his head held high, a smile on his face.

  He’d been glad to know that she’d finally grown up, that she’d have a home and family of her own. That she’d have the happiness she’d always deserved. He’d assumed that Craig was an honorable man. That he’d step up and take care of Kara Lee from that day on, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.

  But that wasn’t to be. And it hadn’t been death that parted them, but a parade of lovers. The last straw was the sexy brunette whose video had gone viral.

  A woman who hadn’t had any more respect for sacred wedding vows than Craig Baxter had.

  * * *

  While Lainie tidied up the kitchen after the evening meal, Drew and one of the retired cowboys remained at the table, having a cup of decaf.

  Drew had set up a small video recorder, a real nice one. The kind that, if Lainie hit the lottery, she’d buy.

  “Damn it. I can’t get this thing to record.”

  Lainie had planned to stay in the background, but she couldn’t help going to the rescue. “Here. You have it on the wrong mode. That’s all.” She triggered the right one. “There you go.”

  The elderly cowboy, Gilbert Henry, laughed. “Guess you’re an old soul like me, Drew. Can’t figure out that newfangled equipment.”

  “Something like that.”

  Lainie scrubbed a counter that didn’t need cleaning and listened to Gilbert talk about his time in the Marine Corps during the Korean War, his return to the States and his marriage to Pearl, his high school sweetheart.

  “We bought a house in Wexler,” Gil said. “We had dreams, me and Pearl. She wanted a big family, and I was prepared to give that little gal anything she wanted. But I guess God or Fate had other plans. We tried to have a baby for nearly ten years. Finally, we adopted two little boys—brothers who’d been orphaned at a young age.”

  Lainie couldn’t help but wish that a couple like Gil and his wife had been around when she and Rickie needed a home.

  “Ray was the oldest,” Gil said. “And was he a real pistol. Sharp as a tack, but never did like school. Jimmy was the youngest. And quiet. For a while, we never thought he’d ever say a word. But once he did, he jabbered from morning until night.”

  “Where are they now?” Drew asked.

  “When Ray was sixteen, he got caught up with the wrong crowd and ended up on drugs.” Gil clucked his tongue. “And he got sent to the state pen for a while, too. Damn near broke Pearl’s heart and caused a divorce when I refused to bail him out. But hell, he was going to have to serve time anyway and I didn’t trust him to show up in court.”

  “That must have been very hard on you and your wife.”

  “Yep. But in the long run, Ray’s incarceration turned out to be a blessing. Thanks to a prison ministry, he turned his life around. Believe it or not, he’s a preacher in Louisiana. He doesn’t have a big fancy church. He spends a lot of his time on the street corner, passing out Bibles and giving sandwiches to the homeless. But he seems to be happy doing that.”

  “How about the younger boy?” Drew asked.

  “We lost him in Desert Storm.”

  Lainie stopped scrubbing and looked over her shoulder at the man.

  Gil’s voice cracked. “I keep his Silver Star on my nightstand to remember him by.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Drew said.

  “Me, too. But you should have seen the letters some of his buddies sent to us and the articles written in the paper. I’m damn proud to know I raised a boy who didn’t balk when it came to dying to save the men in his platoon.”

  Lainie had already tidied up the kitchen, but rather than leave the men alone, she began reorganizing the pantry, which really didn’t need it. Joy kept an organized kitchen. She also kept two bottles of wine in there and had told Lainie she was welcome to open either or both. But Lainie wouldn’t do that.

  She shuffled some of the canned goods, wasting time so she could continue to eavesdrop and hear what Gilbert had to say. But after mentioning Pearl’s death two years ago, just days after their sixtieth wedding anniversary, the interview stalled.

  “Well,” Gil said, as he got up from his seat. “I guess that’s pretty much all I have to say.”

  “Thanks for your candor and your time,” Drew told him.

  Lainie watched Gil shuffle from the room, her heart heavy with the bittersweet memories he’d shared. She knew each of the retirees at the Rocking C had unique backgrounds, filled with both sad and happy times, but hearing Gil’s story reminded her that they weren’t forgotten stories.

  Drew shut off the video recorder and blew out a ragged breath. “Writing this blog is going to be even more difficult than I thought it’d be.”

  “Because of Gil’s interview?”

  “Yes. You were in here and heard his story. My heart goes out to that guy. His life seems pretty tragic, and I’m not sure how to go about writing it.”

  Lainie closed the pantry door, turned to face Drew and leaned against the kitchen cupboard. “All you have to do is put the right spin on it. You can choose to portray Gil as a tired, grieving old man. Or you can show him as a loving husband and proud father who raised sons who have made this world a better place.”

  “Good point. The older boy spent time in prison, but he learned from his mistakes.”

  “And the younger brother made the ultimate sacrifice for his country.”

  “Yeah. Gil and his wife were good parents, whose sons have sacrificed for others. I’m not sure if I can do them all justice.”

  “Sure you can. Follow your heart, and you’ll do right by them.”

  He stared at his notes and frowned. “But I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “I could help out. I have a degree in journalism.” Shoot. Why had she made an offer like that?

  “No kidding?”

  She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one hip. “Don’t look so surprised. This job at the ranch is only temporary. And while it’s come in handy for the time being, I’m going to work at a newspaper someday.”

  Actually, she was working for one now, but that was her secret. Besides, writing the Dear Debbie column cer
tainly didn’t make her an investigative reporter or a photojournalist.

  A grin stretched across Drew’s face, lighting his eyes. “I’m impressed. I don’t suppose I could hire you to give me some editorial direction for that blog? Would you be up for that?”

  Did he mean to pay her for her time? She was going to offer her services for free, but she could sure use the additional income. “You want to hire me?”

  “Absolutely. I’m not sure what the going rate is, but I’ll gladly pay it.”

  Lainie tempered her enthusiasm and said, “Sure. I’d be glad to help. Besides, it’s for a good cause.”

  “It certainly is. I’d hate to see this place close.”

  “Me, too. The men seem happy here, even when they complain about the competency of some of the young ranch hands.”

  He laughed. “Sully calls them ‘whippersnappers.’”

  Lainie had heard plenty of comments from all the men. And she’d watched out the kitchen window one day when a couple of them, using a cane and a walker, approached the corral and gave one of the young hands a scolding for doing things wrong. It was a real sight. She’d wished she’d had her camera handy.

  “You know,” Lainie said, “I also have a minor in photography.”

  “No wonder you knew how to work my video recorder. Do you have a camera?”

  “Yes. And I can take pictures of the ranch and the men to go along with your blog.”

  “That’d be great. We can show the young cowboys at work, as well as the old guys.”

  Lainie had a feeling she was going to like collaborating with Drew on the blog project. She might not have the perfect job at the Gazette yet, but at least she could get some more experience on her resume.

  “I feel like celebrating,” he said. “Too bad we don’t have any champagne handy.”

  Toasting with crystal flutes and drinking sparkling wine with a handsome rodeo promoter sounded tempting. And while she knew where Joy’s wine was, she wasn’t about to lower her guard around a man like him. She’d been attracted to two other men in her life, and both had proven to be lacking in character.