Christmas with the Cowboy

by Tina Radcliffe

  “Yes, please.” He was silent for a few moments, and Emma prayed he would be agreeable to her plan.

  “We need supplies.”

  Emma perked up. “I called the hardware store in Timber and they have everything set aside for us. All we have to do is pick it up.”

  “And build it.”

  “And build it.” Emma resisted a sigh, hoping to keep the optimism flowing. She gave him five more seconds to consider her plan. “What time do you want to go to town?”

  “I can go myself.”

  “I’d like to buy you lunch to thank you for all you’ve done to help with the Holiday Roundup.”

  “Emma, that’s not necessary. If anything, I should be thanking you for going with me to the Clarks’.”

  “Okay, you can buy.”

  Zach blinked, then started laughing. “Well played.”

  She stood and curtsied. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll meet you at the truck in twenty minutes. I need to put these tools away.”

  A half hour later, as they drove straight through the heart of downtown Timber, Emma could barely contain her excitement.

  “Look,” she said. “They’ve put the flags up.”

  “You’re leaving nose prints on my window,” Zach observed.

  “I am not.” She pointed to the decorative flags flapping in the breeze. “Ooh, they even have snowflake flags this year.”

  “Flags? What flags are you talking about?”

  “Holiday flags on the light posts. Come on, Zach. You lived in this town. They’ve been putting up holiday flags in Timber since forever.”

  “No, I lived in a one-bedroom apartment in Tulsa with my mother. I only visited Camelot when the queen deemed it was helpful to her self-serving cause.”

  Emma sighed. Two brothers and their lives were so vastly different. “Oh, Zach. I’m sorry.”

  He held up a hand. “Pity is not necessary. I’m explaining why my holiday perspective is nothing like yours.”

  “Have you considered embracing a new perspective?” she asked. “I’d be delighted to assist with planning and implementation.”

  “You launched that operation the day I hit Big Heart Ranch.”

  “You think?” Emma smiled as her gaze swept across the town where volunteers were decorating the giant Christmas tree at the town square park. “You know, it was twenty-five years ago this December that Lucy, Travis and I were pulled out of foster care by our mother’s cousin. The first thing we saw was downtown Timber, decorated for the holidays.” She grinned. “I was almost five. I will never forget sitting in the back seat of her 1967 wood-paneled Ford station wagon and seeing all the lights of town for the very first time. She parked right along this part of Main Street and we were beneath one of those flags. I was mesmerized. That was when I fell in love with Christmas.”

  “You remembered that it was a ’67 Ford?”

  She turned to him. “That was your takeaway from my story?”

  Zach shrugged. “Just asking.”

  “Yes. I remember because she kept that car until she died.”

  He grimaced. “Sorry. I guess that does explain the whole Christmas overdosing thing.”

  “I do not overdose. I’m simply enthusiastic.”

  Zach pulled the truck into a parking spot and Emma unlatched her seat belt. Cold air kissed her face when she stepped out of the vehicle. Temperatures were dropping. Fast. “Brr.” She reached back in the truck for her red wool coat.

  “What’s your rush?” Zach said. He slid his arms into a denim jacket and joined her on the sidewalk.

  “Oh, come on. Hurry up, slowpoke.”

  Zach caught up easily and even with a limp in his step, his long strides equaled six of hers. When they passed the post office, the door swung open, nearly knocking her to the ground. “Oomph.”

  Warm hands were around her, pulling her close. “You okay, Em?” Zach breathed in her hair.

  “Yes. Yes. I believe so.” Except for his warm breath on her face, and the heart palpations, yes, she was perfectly fine.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” the cowboy who had nearly mowed her down said.

  “Next time you might want to look before you let that bronc out of the shoot,” Zach said.

  The cowboy pushed his Stetson to the back of his head as his gaze moved up Zach’s six-foot-five-inch linebacker frame, eyes widening. “Yes, sir. I will.”

  “I’m fine, Zach,” Emma said, straightening her coat.

  “Let’s be on the safe side.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as they continued down the street.

  The gesture left Emma near speechless. Zach was being chivalrous, she reminded herself. Former navy SEAL. It came with the territory. She couldn’t read anything into it, no matter how nice it felt to be in his arms.

  “Think we might get to the diner today?” Zach asked when Emma stopped to examine every single merchant’s decorated display window.

  “Oh, don’t be a bah humbug. I’m going to be swamped pretty soon. This is my last chance to enjoy the decorations.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who got me hungry for the diner’s chicken and biscuits.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s going to be dinner by the time we get there.”

  Emma stopped, tugged her arm free from Zach and planted her feet in front of the window of the Timber Jewelry Store. “This must be savored.”

  A silvery-white Christmas tree trimmed with pearl necklace garlands filled the window. The effervescent branches sparkled as the tree slowly twirled around and around like an elegant ballerina. Christmas watches were nestled in the tree’s white velvet skirt, along with silver snowflake glitter.

  “Oh, look at the watches,” Emma murmured.

  “All I want for Christmas is a kitschy watch?” he said from behind her.

  She turned and met his cynical gaze. “Exactly. The one with the red band and faux-jewel Christmas tree on the face. What fun!”

  “Fun. Right.” Zach shivered. “You notice it’s getting cold out here?”

  Emma glanced up at the low-hanging gray clouds covering the sky. “Snow clouds.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “It even smells like snow.”

  “Snow is going to make chores a lot less enjoyable.”

  “You need a lined barn coat and a hat. You’re a full-fledged cowboy again.”

  “You know, I’m thinking that a good cup of coffee would warm me up.”

  She hooked her arm in his and pretended to drag him along to the diner.

  Pretending. That’s what this was. Right?

  When they got to the diner, the door opened in front of them. This time Emma stepped out of the way.

  “Emma?”

  She looked up into the smiling face of Beau Randall, a potential RangePro client.

  “How are you, Beau?” She turned to Zach. “Beau, this is Zach Norman.”

  Both men sized each other up. Zach stood towering over the tall rhinestone cowboy with the Hollywood smile and fancy leather jacket, looking none too happy about the situation.

  “Norman? Related to Emma?” Beau asked.

  “By marriage” was Zach’s curt reply.

  Beau nodded in dismissal and turned to Emma. “I’ve been talking to your sales rep, but when am I going to have the CEO of RangePro come out to my ranch and court me properly?”

  “You know, Zach is—” Emma paused when Zach put a hand on her arm. She cleared her throat. “Well, Beau, if that’s what you want, I can make that happen.”

  “Terrific. Call my office after the Thanksgiving holiday and we can schedule a meeting. Maybe have lunch at the house.” He turned to Zach. “Nice to meet you.”

  Zach offered the other man a slow nothing of a nod, his eyes narrowed.

  “Who is Beau Randall?” Zach asked once their server led them to a booth next to t
he window.

  “A very rich man whose current hobby is dabbling in cattle ranching. He has a huge operation.”

  “Rich how?”

  “Some computer software thing. Built the company from scratch, and then sold it for a small fortune. Apparently, he acquires and sells software companies for a living now.” She gestured with a hand. “Picking up his account would be huge for RangePro.”

  When Zach grunted a response, she turned to look at him. Clearly, something about Beau Randall didn’t sit well with him.

  “Why didn’t you want me to tell him you also own RangePro?” Emma asked.

  “Beau Randall doesn’t need to know right now.” Zach took her coat and hung it on the hook outside the booth. Sitting down, he picked up the menu and fiddled with the pages. “How much are you involved in the day-to-day operations of RangePro?” he asked.

  “Steve hired and trained the tech support guy who takes calls from home and troubleshoots. I don’t do very much on the software side. I have conference calls weekly with the technician and my sales guys.”

  “You put out fires.”

  “Basically, and I’m the face of the company when necessary.” She sighed. “And despite my lack of know-how, business is booming.”

  “Eventually the software will need to be upgraded. What then?”

  “I suppose I’ll hire someone to do that.”

  “Proprietary software. It won’t be cheap.”

  “I’m thinking Belgian waffles with whipped cream and a side of sausage,” she replied. “They’ll do breakfast any time of the day here.”

  “Emma?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Come on, Emma, I thought you wanted to talk about RangePro.”

  “I do.” She paused. “I thought I did. But not today.” Emma released a breath and played with the Thanksgiving turkey candle nestled next to a small ceramic Santa sitting on the table. “This is not going to end well. It never does, and I’m so enjoying the day.”

  “Conversation. That’s all.”

  She met his intense gaze and sighed. “I’m listening.”

  “What’s the real reason you don’t want to sell RangePro?”

  “You aren’t going to understand.”

  “Give me a chance. I’m starting to understand a lot of things since I arrived at Big Heart.”

  “When I was put in foster care, everything that belonged to my parents was tossed away. The house was emptied.” She looked up at him and swallowed. “Every single thing was gone. Their life was erased. I’m afraid that by the time the girls grow up, their father won’t even be a memory. Getting rid of RangePro is like getting rid of him.” She wrapped her hands tightly around the ceramic Santa. “I can’t do that. I can’t.”

  “Hey, hey, relax.”

  When Zach put his hand over hers, she froze and met his concerned gaze.

  “You’re right,” he said. “Let’s change the subject.”

  Emma nodded and slipped her hand away. She couldn’t think when he touched her.

  Zach leaned across the table. “I want you to know that I believe there’s a solution out there, and I’m just the guy to find it.”

  “In the meantime, will you go out to Beau Randall’s ranch with me?” she asked.

  “To let you show me how RangePro works? I could do that at Big Heart Ranch.”

  “Yes, but Beau is more likely to sign a contract if both owners of the company come out to woo him. The guy is all ego.”

  “I’m not wooing any rich venture capitalist slash part-time rancher.” He scoffed. “He’s not even from Oklahoma.”

  Emma smiled at the disdain in his voice. “You never know, it might get you one step closer to finding a solution to our dilemma.”

  He made a low rumbling sound. “You really ought to think about running for office.”

  “Politics? Me?”

  “Emma, you’re slicker than a boiled onion.”

  “Oh, you flatterer.” She laughed. “And where did you get that phrase from?”

  “Who do you think? Dutch.” He folded his menu. “I’ll go to Randall’s spread with you, but only because I don’t want you alone with that guy.”

  She smiled up at him. “Thank you, Zach.”

  He shook his head and offered a roll of his eyes.

  Driving to the Randall Ranch would be much less stressful with Zach around. Emma blinked. When had she transitioned to being comfortable in Zach’s company? It seemed only yesterday things were tense between them. Now she not only liked him around, she realized that she actually looked forward to his presence.

  That might very well be a mistake because Zach Norman wouldn’t be around much longer.

  Chapter Eight

  Zach tugged open the door to the chow hall against the brisk wind and stopped just inside, slightly stunned by the scene before him. The Big Heart Ranch staff and children filled the room for the Thanksgiving celebration. This gathering was bigger than the Christmas party of weeks before, no doubt because there was a surplus of children. All ages and sizes.

  Delicious food aromas mingling with whispers of excitement drifted to him, confirming that today was special. A meal of thanks followed by the lights-on ceremony. Anticipation sizzled in the room as folks chatted, laughed and hugged each other. Though the room was packed, nobody seemed to care.

  The only easy day was yesterday.

  The words from his training days failed to dispel the strong desire to quietly step back and retreat out the door to safer ground. Alone. There was safety in alone.

  He was trained for one-on-one, not this crowd. Zach surveyed the landscape and released a pained breath.

  Before he had a chance to act on a primal urge to bail, his little niece Rachel slammed into him and wrapped her arms tightly around his kneecaps in a mini bear hug. “Unca Zach!”

  His heartstrings were yanked at the simple words.

  “Rachel!” he returned with a grin.

  She giggled with delight at his animated response.

  Reaching down, he scooped her up in his arms and moved his grocery store shopping sack to the other hand.

  “Your mommy dresses you in holiday cheer, doesn’t she?” Zach asked Rachel as he straightened her little red sweater.

  She nodded and tucked her head under his chin.

  After four weeks, he no longer required the color-coding handicap. He could easily tell Rachel and Elizabeth apart. The soft inflections in their toddler voices, the mannerisms. Rachel lit up when she saw him and jumped into his arms without hesitation while Elizabeth stood back assessing before she committed.

  “How’s my girl?” he asked.

  “Hungy. I wanna eat.”

  “Okay, let’s get my girl food.”

  Across the room, Emma turned as though she sensed his presence. Elizabeth was in her arms in a matching purple sweater. Emma’s eyes widened and though Zach didn’t have a clue about women, when a slow sweet smile touched her lips it sure seemed like she was glad to see him.

  Emma’s smile was lethal. It knocked his heart sideways every time. Like a magnet, he felt the irresistible pull and started across the room toward her.

  Then Tripp Walker stepped in his way.

  “Got a minute?” the taciturn horse manager asked in his slow, measured voice.

  Though about fifty pounds lighter, Tripp was the only person at the ranch who, at six foot five, stood eye to eye with Zach. The horse whisperer, as everyone called him, stared with intensity.

  “Sure, Tripp,” Zach replied, his gaze drifting back to Emma.

  “I’d like to get you on board to train the boys for the Big Heart Rodeo competition.”

  “The summer one?”

  Tripp nodded.

  “Isn’t that Travis’s territory?”

  “Some. Mostly he’s too busy.�
� Tripp shook his head. “Things haven’t been the same since he went and fell in love.”

  “Yeah, I’m washing my hands constantly, praying it isn’t contagious.”

  The corner of Tripp’s mouth pulled into a whisper of a smile. “I think it might be too late for you,” he murmured.

  Zach blinked at the comment, but let it pass. “You think I’m qualified?”

  Tripp gave a nod of acknowledgment. “The boys like and respect you. That’s enough of a qualification for me, right there.”

  “Ah, thanks. When does training start?” he asked.

  “Full-time in the spring. But I’m going to talk to Lucy about renting hours at the indoor arena in Timber right after the holidays.”

  “You know I’m only here until January, right?”

  “You sure about that?” Tripp asked.

  “Well, yeah I’m sure. Unless you know something I don’t.”

  Tripp’s gaze followed his across the room to the spot where Emma stood chatting with Pastor Parr and his mother. “No. I believe we both have the same information,” he murmured.

  Zach offered an awkward laugh at the words. “Can I get back to you?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Zach stood there for a moment, confused by the exchange.

  “Food, Unca Zach,” Rachel reminded him.

  “Yeah. I’m on it, sweetie.”

  Lucy Maxwell Harris was the next to step in his path. “Zach, so good to see you.”

  “Thanks, Lucy. How are you doing?”

  She folded both hands serenely on top of her abdomen. “Fine. I’m getting fat and lazy, lying around, but only a few more weeks left.” Lucy smiled and reached for the grocery bag on his arm. “Here, let me take that from you.”

  “It’s just store-bought chips and dip. Dutch said I had to bring something if I want pie. Trouble is, I don’t cook.”

  “Dutch said that, did he? And did he mention that he only brings his appetite?”

  Zach rubbed his chin. “You know, that old wrangler keeps pulling one over on me and I never even see it coming.”

  “You’re the new guy, that’s why. Stick around and come spring we’ll be bringing a few new wranglers in and you’ll be considered the old guy.”