Jingle Bell Cowgirl
Page 4
Weston rounded up several young men, and they began unfolding long tables from where they'd been folded up against the wall. She imagined they would drag out the old aluminum chairs next.
"Heard you've got a foaling mare on your hands," Ashley said.
Lila flicked a glance at Ben, but he'd turned his back to grab something from the counter opposite.
"Ryan and I manage the feed store," Ashley said.
Lila nodded. Was that the local gossip hub or something?
A piercing bark sounded from the multi-purpose room, and Lila's head came up again. A huge German Shepherd Dog across the room stood watching the three boys who dribbled the basketball between tables and around chairs.
Ashley whistled three notes, and the dog sat on his haunches. That was some obedience.
"Want me to go check on him?" Ryan asked.
But Ashley shook her head. "He just got excited about the ball."
The dog panted and stared at the ball with intense focus. With his ears cocked forward, she could see that one of his ears was just a stub. Had he and Ashley been in combat and been wounded?
"That's your dog?"
"Yeah." Ashley shook her head slightly, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth. "He's a little obsessed with balls. He's not allowed in the kitchen, or I'd have him lie down in here."
"A little obsessed?" Ryan echoed, a disbelieving tone audible even over the meat frying in the huge skillet in front of him.
Ashley shook her head again. "Ryan got knocked over once throwing the tennis ball for Atlas."
"He almost took my arm off."
"Well, I told you not to do that silly dance. Holding it up over your head was an invitation." Regardless of Ryan's teasing, the dog was incredibly well-trained not to chase after the kids. He stayed put.
Lila found herself smiling at the young couple's bickering. It was obvious from the scorching glances they kept sending each other that they loved each other.
Ben responded to Ryan's ribbing with an awful joke and the three of them laughed. He belonged. Ryan and Ashley belonged.
But she didn't. Not really.
* * *
Ben didn't know why Lila had been at the church, but he'd seen his chance and grabbed her.
He was a little surprised she was sticking around.
She'd been hesitant at first, quiet. But then as Ryan hammed around with Ashley—who bore it somewhat patiently—she'd first cracked a smile, and then giggled behind her hand, though he saw her considering expression more than once.
They'd finished making what seemed like a thousand tacos and then joined the noisy chaos in the multi-purpose room. It was a full house tonight, forcing them to squeeze in. His knee bumped Lila's under the table. Maybe on purpose.
She didn't seem to notice as she grappled with an over-filled taco. Every time she lifted it toward her mouth, some of the meat or lettuce fell out.
Finally, she stopped trying to stuff everything back in and just ate a bite.
She must've sensed his perusal, because she lifted her napkin to cover her mouth when she spoke. "There's no polite way to do this."
He made an exaggerated glance around the room. "I don't think they care about being polite."
But it was obvious she did, because she got up and threaded her way through the tables and chairs to disappear into the kitchen. When she returned and slid back into her chair, she was carrying a fork.
"Really?"
There was a slight blush across her cheeks, but she made no reply.
"So what are you planning for Christmas? Going over to Anna's?"
She shrugged and looked away, but he hadn't missed that dark expression.
"You're welcome at the ranch, you know."
She wrinkled her nose at him. "Thanks, Mr. I-don't-even-have-a-tree. Not sure I want to eat a microwave dinner for my Christmas supper."
"Hey, for all you know, I could've bought a tree since you saw the place last."
"Did you?"
He hadn't.
Her gaze told him she saw right through him.
"Why don't you come out with me after we wrap up here? I'll decorate if you bring the financial binder so we can talk about it."
He could see her mind whirling behind her eyes. His gut pitched, threatened to reject the tacos he'd just scarfed. It would mean visiting the attic and Mia's boxes of decorations. Rekindling the grief that had dimmed in the last several months.
Since Lila's arrival in town had distracted him from it.
"Better not, cowboy." She stood, lifting her now-empty paper plate.
"Stay," he said to her back. He didn't know if she heard him over the noise surrounding them.
She didn't look back.
But she didn't head for the door. She dumped her trash in one of the receptacles in the corner of the room and struck up a conversation with two boys who'd already finished their meals.
Right before his eyes, she'd soon organized an intense game of HORSE—boys versus girls, naturally—and was right in the middle of it with the kids.
At one point, Ashley's dog rushed the basketball and Lila got knocked to the ground. Ashley whistled and the dog sat on its haunches.
Ben had stood up without realizing it. Ready to rush to her rescue?
Ha.
Thankfully, Lila was already sitting up, one arm hooked over the dog's neck as Ashley approached and squatted beside her.
Lila was laughing.
Their eyes caught and held. He couldn't look away from her exuberant joy. She blinked when one of the teen boys came up and demanded the ball and the connection was broken.
He should grab her and demand they finish—start—talking about the ranch.
It seemed as if every time he started a serious conversation with her, she distracted him. Or ran off.
He shouldn't be intrigued. And in fact, he was annoyed. But a bigger part of him wanted to know her. Know why she'd cried when she'd rescued that horse. Why she didn't want to step foot inside her home.
Maybe she was waiting for him to open up first.
Which meant he'd have to tell her about Mia, and he didn't know if he could do that.
6
Ben hadn't seen Lila for three days. She'd been out to the ranch. Two of the hired hands had reported that she'd visited the mare every day—sometimes twice a day—but she always made a point to be there when he wasn't. How did she know when he would be gone?
He'd stared at that little origami tree she'd made him until he was cross-eyed.
The two suppers they'd spent together should have broken through the mistrust she'd had for him. He thought they'd started on their way to becoming friends.
Apparently he'd been wrong.
The sun was setting as he stopped in at the church for a final fitting of his Joseph costume. He hoped Lila would be here, but Velma informed him she'd had her fitting earlier, because she'd had to get over to the feed store where 'something was going on.'
He should have just let it go, but that had never been his style, so after his fitting, he found himself turning his truck toward the feed store.
The stores lining Main Street were all blitzed out with garlands and lights, but he focused his eyes on the center line.
When he got there, the entire feed store parking lot was cordoned off with colorful flags and traffic cones blocking the entrance. Cars lined the street, and he was forced to parallel park. He set out on foot to find Lila.
And found her. She was driving a Zamboni in crazy circles on the parking lot, where a thick sheet of ice lay. Where in the world did she get a Zamboni? In Redbud Trails?
He ran into Ryan among the crowd of kids in colorful scarves and beanies, many of them lacing up ice skates. Although Oklahoma winters felt cold much of the time, it wasn't usually cold enough for ponds to ice over. Where had these kids gotten the skates?
Ryan was quick to point out a hastily-constructed booth across the parking lot, just behind the Coffee Hut booth. Both kiosks seemed to be
doing a booming business, with a line stretching behind the building.
There was only one person who could be behind something like this.
Lila.
* * *
It was impossible to ignore Ben once she caught sight of him from her place atop the Zamboni ice resurfacer.
She lost sight of him in the crowd as she drove the machine off the ice and beside the side of the feed store. Then she caught herself straining to see him and forced her eyes straight ahead.
With three days of bitterly cold dry weather in the forecast, she'd had this idea and been unable to get it out of her mind. She'd always wanted an opportunity to skate outdoors in the winter.
Anna and Melody ambushed her as she adjusted her scarf, tucking it into the neck of her coat.
"Ben drove up," Melody said, her teeth chattering.
"I saw."
"You could do worse than a guy like him," Melody said.
She didn't know if her friend was forcing the issue—after Lila's multiple denials the other morning at their coffee date—to try and entice Lila to stick around Redbud Trails. If that was her endgame, her ploy was blatant.
Anna's eyes jerked to one side.
And of course, when Lila turned her head, Ben was there, appearing out of the crowd.
Before she could greet him or find out if he'd overheard Melody's remark, Anna's kids Mikey and Gina ran up and nearly bowled Lila over.
"Skate, skate!" they cried.
Gina tugged on her hand. "You promised, Miss Lila!"
And though Anna and Melody had faded back a little, Ben was still there.
Mikey noticed him. "You want to skate with us, Mr. Ben?"
"You can hold Miss Lila's hand with me," Gina offered.
His eyes came up to connect with Lila's, and she could see the fire burning him up.
The image of that ultrasound picture flashed in her mind. His baby?
Mikey glanced between the adults, maybe sensitive to the tension between them.
Gina, oblivious, walked right up to Ben and tilted her head up so see him. He looked down on her, and Lila wondered if he would put her off. The little girl crooked her finger at him, and he bent down to her level. She whispered to him behind her hand, and his eyes flicked to Lila.
He nodded gravely at the girl and when he rose, she took his hand.
"C'mon, we gotta get skates," Mikey said. He took Lila's hand and dragged her through the mob of people to the small booth where they asked for skates in their sizes. They found a spot where the crowd had thinned a little and sat on the sidewalk to shuck their boots and pull on the skates. Lila was intensely aware of Ben at her elbow. Why had he decided to join them?
And why was his presence sending thrills through her?
"I'm gonna skate backwards. Can you teach me, Lila?" Mikey asked.
She glanced over her shoulder at the makeshift rink and the people skating around it. "Maybe if the crowd thins out a little bit."
"You gonna teach me to skate, Gina?" Ben asked.
"No!" The little girl giggled.
"You never skated before?" Mikey asked.
Ben shook his head. His shoulder brushed Lila's as he tightened the laces on his skates.
"What about rollerblading?" Lila asked.
Another shake of his head. Negative.
"Rollerskating?"
Negative.
Why hadn't he just let them go ahead? What had Gina whispered to him that had made him agree?
Lila stood, balancing carefully on the edges of her skates. The kids did the same. Ben pushed up to standing, wobbling precariously.
"Whoa!" Mikey crowed.
Finally, Ben straightened out. They all four hobbled to the edge of the ice, where Lila was comfortable enough on her skates to help the kids and give Ben some basic instruction.
He caught on quickly, at least enough that the four of them could wobble around the edge of the rink together. The kids laughed and shrieked. Lila moved out in front of them, skating backwards but not showing off. She linked hands with Gina and pulled the girl along with her, laughing when Mikey bit the dust trying to catch up to them.
Mikey went off to skate with a friend. Gina linked hands with Ben on one side and Lila on the other. She chattered about a princess dress and a horse and more that Lila couldn't hear over the noise of their skates against the ice and the crowd.
And then Gina brought her two hands together, tangling Lila's fingers with Ben's. She skated to her mom, who caught her at the edge of the rink, leaving Lila and Ben connected and virtually alone, though many people skated all around them.
Heat fused her cheeks as she glanced up at Ben, who looked down on her.
The toe of her skate must've hit an uneven patch of ice, because she suddenly wobbled. Ben's opposite hand came out to rest on her waist, connecting them as they came face-to-face. At least they were at a corner of the rink, out of the way of traffic.
She felt like a hundred eyes were trained on them.
"How'd you come up with this idea anyway?" he asked
"Maybe it was someone else's idea," she returned. "And I just executed."
He gave a slight shake of his head. He didn't believe her. "This has Lila written all over it."
She couldn't look away from his gaze. Something deeper was going on in his thoughts.
"How'd you pay for it?"
"None of your business." He probably thought she'd taken out a loan or blown a huge amount of money.
This has Lila written all over it.
Maybe it was spite that kept her from telling him about the two-day partnership she'd struck up with the skating rink two towns over. They were getting plenty of publicity from the stunt, and all she'd had to do was provide some manpower to help get things set up.
Let Ben think what he would.
But even as they separated and rejoined the main crowd, something niggled at her. She didn't want to care about his opinion of her. But she couldn't seem to help it.
* * *
That evening after the crowd had dispersed and Anna and Melody had gone—Anna to put the kids in bed and Melody claiming to have work to do—Lila found herself ensconced in the cab of Ben's truck, still on the curb where he'd parked.
They'd stopped to take off their boots and somehow, he'd convinced her to grab a coffee from the Coffee Hut when they'd turned in their skates.
Now a blanket of sparkling stars was spread out overhead, and everything had changed since she'd been in his truck the other night. He might've quit asking how she'd paid for the skating rink to come to Redbud Trails, but she needed to remember that this has Lila written all over it look in his eye.
"You've never had another job?" she asked as she sipped her black coffee.
"Been with your dad since I was fifteen, when my dad took the foreman's job."
That would've been just about when she'd left, but no matter how she searched her memories, she didn't remember a fifteen-year-old Ben. But then, she'd buried memories of those last days, and buried them for good.
And she couldn't fathom staying in one place for so long. "You've never wanted to do anything else?"
He shrugged. "I love the land. The animals. Working outdoors. I guess I was made to be a cowboy."
"I wouldn't think a true cowboy would be a mocha kind of guy."
He slanted a sideways look at her teasing words. "Well, this cowboy is."
She sipped from her plain decaf. "Haven't you ever wanted anything different?"
The question took them deeper than the teasing banter they'd shared since the near-spill on the ice.
Maybe he wouldn't answer. Thus far, their tentative friendship hadn't gone deep.
He considered her question, his gaze stretching far past the windshield. One of his hands rested on the bottom of the steering wheel while the other balanced his styrofoam coffee cup on his knee.
As the silence stretched, so did the tension inside her, pulling taut like a rubber band. She squelched it down, though she
wanted to bounce her knee or tap her fingers on the passenger door.
"I had it," he finally said quietly. "What I wanted. All I'd ever wanted. Mia and I were ready to start a family. Then...she got pregnant."
He leaned his head back on the headrest, as if saying the words took so much effort that he couldn't keep upright.
And the tension that had been bubbling beneath the surface all night took shape in the familiar coil, now wound uncomfortably tight inside Lila.
"We were ecstatic. And then we had an ultrasound. We were supposed to find out the baby's sex and instead..."
There was a part of her that wanted to block her ears. Ben had lost his baby first, then his wife? It was a testament to life's unfairness that a good guy like him would see so much loss.
The other, bigger, part of her hung on to every word of his story. "Instead...was there something wrong with the baby?"
His head rolled toward her, his gaze burning from the inside out, just like it had one the ice, playing with Mikey and Gina.
"The baby was healthy. But the ultrasound picked up Mia's ovarian cancer."
The coil tightened.
His head tilted so he was looking up at the dome light. "The doctors—all of them—pushed her to abort the baby. The cancer was aggressive, and the treatment she needed would harm the baby if it was still in utero."
"She refused," Lila whispered.
He ran one hand over his face, still gripping the coffee cup with his other.
"She refused," he echoed. "Said she'd bring the baby to term and then get the treatments. Only she didn't make it that long."
His voice broke near the end. The men in her life—her father and others along the way—had all hid their pain behind a mask.
Ben wasn't like that.
Or maybe his pain ran too deep.
"She was a little girl," he whispered brokenly. He swallowed. "Emma Grace. I got to hold her, just for a minute."
To say goodbye.