Winning the Cowboy

by Emma St Clair

  Chapter Seventeen

  Adele

  “It’s not going to change, no matter how many times you open that box,” Cilla said, as Adele lifted the lid on Mama Boyd’s jewelry box.

  “I know. I just … I can’t stop looking at it.” She sat on her couch, the box in her lap.

  Curiosity had made Adele open the box Easton gave her before Cilla got to her house. She hoped to find the perfect blue pin or accessory for Cilla’s wedding. Something simple and small that would be a tribute to Mama Boyd, but also fitting with Cilla’s style, which was minimalist to the extreme. Screening ahead of time was a good option. Cilla didn’t do well with too many choices and she might not make the right choice. Adele felt it her personal responsibility to keep her bestie from walking down the aisle with a tacky blue shawl or something.

  What she found instead were two gorgeous rings and a note to Elton and Easton from their mother. It wasn’t sealed, but if Adele was honest, she might have been tempted to open an envelope if it were. Something about seeing Mama Boyd’s handwriting, a slanted script almost as familiar as her own, shifted her heart so powerfully that she couldn’t resist the contents of the box.

  My dear boys,

  These diamonds were passed down in our family from your great-aunt Anna and your great-grandmother Hannah. I had them put in more modern settings because I hoped one day you could offer them to the women you want to marry.

  If you’re wondering why I labeled them, there are two reasons. As I write this, you are thirteen. Inseparable, but fighting over everything. My hope is that you’ll grow out of this, but just in case, it seemed like a good idea.

  The second reason is a little out there for me, but I hope you’ll take this for what it’s worth.

  In the Bible, both Anna and Hannah were women of prayer. I prayed over these rings and for your future brides. The more I prayed, the more I felt a leaning in my heart that the emerald cut sapphire should go to Elton (that’s the rectangular one if you aren’t sure) and the round cut diamond should go to Easton.

  Maybe you’ll think I’m silly for this note. We might laugh about it together. But I felt the need to pray, choose the rings, and write this note now. Who knows? Maybe the women you meet won’t like these rings. That’s fine too. I believe in prayer, but I also don’t know that I’m right about this. It’s just a feeling that I have.

  I have a lot of feelings about you boys. Right now, I can hear you arguing by the barn and my feelings are mostly irritation. But I love you both more than I can say on this piece of paper.

  Off to break up your fight.

  Love you,

  Mama

  Adele had cried for a solid ten minutes after reading the note. She did her best not to let tears splash on the paper, lest the beautiful words be marred in any way. The words made her miss Mama Boyd something fierce. She could almost hear her saying them out loud. They leapt off the page, as did her love for her sons. The fact that she wouldn’t be here to tell them this story in person physically hurt.

  When she read the part about Mama Boyd praying over the rings, the hair on her arms stood up.

  No one knew that Adele loved sapphires. Specifically, emerald cut sapphires. She had a board on Pinterest dedicated to collecting images of exactly the kind of ring that sat inside the box. Not even Cilla knew that, mostly because she didn’t really care about jewelry. There hadn’t been a reason to talk about Adele’s ideal engagement ring anyway, since she hadn’t been in a serious relationship in years.

  Now, it sat in that box. The ring that Mama Boyd had prayed over and picked for Elton to give to his bride.

  “The note is really sweet, but is there something about the rings? You seem really emotional. Even for you.”

  Adele ignore the last part, which Cilla muttered. She was too busy opening up the Pinterest app on her phone. She navigated to the collection of ring pictures and handed her phone to Cilla. “I’ve been saving these images for, oh, I don’t know. The last three years?”

  Cilla lifted her brows. “Wow. Okay.” Then, she grinned. “I mean, I guess this solves your twinlemma.”

  “Stop calling it that! I knew I shouldn’t have introduced you to Kat. You two are too much. And no, this doesn’t solve anything. It makes it more complicated. And painful.”

  “Why? Mama Boyd basically chose you from the grave. She prayed and picked your dream ring. Perfect. You may not believe in signs, but you do believe in miracles, small and large.”

  Adele slumped back on her couch and closed the box again. “It would take a massive miracle to fix what I’ve screwed up this morning. Here. You take it.”

  Cilla held up both hands. “Nope. That’s for you to handle. And what could you have possibly screwed up today? It’s barely past noon.”

  Adele carefully set the box on her coffee table. It was precious. Not even so much for the rings, which were beautiful, meaningful, and likely worth a good deal, but the note from Mama Boyd. It was like a message from the past, a voice from the grave. And she knew exactly how much it would mean to Elton and Easton. Adele felt like she had broken into someone’s diary for reading the note.

  Adele picked at the fringe on the pillow in her lap. “I messed up a lot this morning. Maybe everything.”

  “With which twin?”

  “Both, actually.”

  Cilla blinked at her. “This should be good.”

  “First, I yelled at Elton. For fighting with commenters on my Instagram.” When Cilla looked more confused, Adele waved a hand. “Long story. Basically, I told him I didn’t need him, and he stormed off and told me to go to church with my ‘preferred twin.’”

  “Ouch.” Cilla winced. “So, he didn’t go with you this morning to Haven?”

  Adele shook her head. “Nope. Just Easton. And he was being so weird at church. Like, smiling at me. Putting his arm around me.”

  “All the things you’ve been wanting for, like, forever. Only … you didn’t want them anymore? Not from Easton.” Cilla grinned and Adele could practically hear the I told you so in her voice.

  “Right. It was very clear if it hadn’t been before which twin I want looking at me that way.” She took a deep breath and then let the rest of the story tumble out. “Then, after church, Easton kissed me. And I slapped him.”

  “He did?! You what?!” Cilla’s voice had risen to a pitch that dogs could probably hear for miles.

  “I slapped him. Then I had to drive him home, which was the most awkward ride of my life, and he told me he doesn’t want to be my date for the wedding anymore, obviously. Now Elton is mad at me and thinks I like his brother, and I slapped Easton. I’m pretty much dead to the Boyds. So, you need to take care of that box. I can’t. I won’t. I’m not sure I’m going to set foot at the farm until the wedding.”

  Adele took a breath, realizing that she had been doing the equivalent of running sprints. With her mouth. She had never seen Cilla look so dumbfounded, though, which was slightly satisfying. If she could only forget the dark pit she had somehow stumbled into.

  “You sure are in a pickle.”

  “That’s an understatement. So, you see, I can’t return that box. With … the rings.”

  “Hmm.” Cilla rolled herself closer to the table and opened the box again. “I could do that.”

  Adele narrowed her eyes, then pointed a finger at Cilla. “You changed your mind too fast. What are you up to? You can’t try to fix this, Cilla.”

  Cilla tucked the box into her lap and rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Sure you would. You’ve already probably planned out the conversation. I’m begging you—just let it go. I don’t want Easton, and even though I have this attraction thing with Elton, we would be so terrible together. All we do is shout at each other.”

  Smirking, Cilla gave her a long look. “Pax and I are doing premarital counseling.”

  “I know. It’s a good idea, given your history.”

  “Do you know what our sessions are like?�
�� Adele shook her head, and Cilla continued. “Mostly, they are the two of us fighting like dogs in a ring, with the poor therapist having to jump between us.”

  Adele frowned. “I don’t see you guys fighting.”

  “We don’t typically. But those sessions are all about working through things. And for us, when we work through issues, we get passionate. Heated.” She giggled. “So hot, in fact, that afterward, we usually spend like thirty minutes making out in his car.”

  “That part, I don’t doubt. But you don’t think it’s a bad thing? All the arguing?”

  Cilla slowly shook her head. “I mean, for some couples, it could be. It’s not for us. We both are very passionate, and not always passionate in the same ways, or about going in the same direction. We are also both terrible communicators and need help. Hence the counseling. But we’re learning. I think after this, we’ll know how to fight better. To fight fair. And then to have a great time making up.”

  She grinned at this last part, and Adele made a gagging sound.

  “The point is, I’ve seen you and Elton together. And when you’re both at each other’s throats, it also looks like you’re about to start making out. Every time.”

  Adele felt her cheeks grow warm. “No. We don’t.”

  Cilla held her gaze. “Every. Time.”

  Adele made a sound of disagreement in her throat and continued picking at the pillow. She had unraveled a part of the fringe, which was now pulling away from the pillow. She couldn’t bring herself to care.

  Because Cilla’s words struck true in a very deep part of her mind. One that she maybe hadn’t wanted to acknowledge for a long time. When she had finally admitted to herself that she liked Elton, it didn’t feel like something new. More like feelings that she was finally allowing out of some vault in her heart.

  And now, had she messed things up too much? Had she hurt Elton too badly chasing after his brother? And saying terrible things she didn’t really mean? Adele bit her lip.

  “I got this, Adele. Stop making that terrible face. Now, let’s start the very exciting task of putting together the wedding favors. We’ll put on a movie. Not a rom-com. Something where everything blows up.”

  Adele grabbed the remote, muttering, “Just like my life.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Elton

  Jail for the second time had been a lot less exciting. Maybe because none of it was new—a scary thought. Elton also knew that Ben would fix the mix-up, which he did. And after ninety minutes listening to a guy named Mo’s drunk ramblings about his ex, Elton was on his way back to the parking lot of the gym to get his car.

  “Straight home,” Ben said, giving him a hard look.

  Elton lifted one eyebrow. “You think I want to go through that again? I won’t so much as look at a drive-thru.”

  “Good.” Ben started to roll up his car window. “Because if it happens again, mix-up or not, getting you out might be a different story.”

  Guess that meant he’d used up his Get Out of Jail Free card. Elton wanted to laugh. But the joke wasn’t that good. And with no one to laugh at your jokes, they felt even flatter. Adele usually laughed. That or rolled her eyes. Sometimes she shoved him. Whatever her response, there was always something.

  Clearly not as much as what she felt for his brother.

  By the time Elton walked through the back door at home, his jealousy and anger had ratcheted up to a level that felt on par with an impending nuclear meltdown. As though he could feel it before Elton even spoke, Easton spun to face him as Elton walked into the kitchen.

  “I changed my mind,” Elton all but growled. He advanced on Easton, who sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes didn’t reveal any emotion. He almost looked bored, which only ticked Elton off more. “Aren’t you going to respond?”

  Easton shrugged. “You always seem to keep talking whether I do or I don’t.”

  “I’m not giving up on Adele. I’m not stepping aside. If she chooses you, fine. But I’m going to fight for her.”

  Because I love her. Elton’s heart seemed to skip in his chest at his thoughts.

  Easton began to laugh. “Now you tell me.”

  Elton could feel the heat rising in his body. As though he were going volcanic, with the steam preceding lava from his feet on up. His top was about to blow. “Why is that funny?”

  “Because I kissed her this morning.”

  It wasn’t the first time Elton had punched his brother. When his fist connected with Easton’s jaw, it immediately brought back memories of childhood fistfights. Over toys, then horses, then girls. But this was the first time Elton had punched his brother as a man. The first time he had used full force.

  Easton’s back was already at the counter, but he stumbled sideways, his hand going to his face. His narrowed eyes met Elton’s, pinning him in place.

  The thing about punching someone was that it really did a good job of releasing whatever emotion was behind the fist. Before Easton had even straightened up fully, Elton’s anger had cooled. Not completely. This was far from resolved. But he knew it was the only punch he would throw tonight. He was left now only with the gut-wrenching thought of his brother kissing the woman he loved.

  Maybe he couldn’t really say that, considering he wasn’t actually in a relationship with Adele. And yet … it was true. He loved her.

  “You two are suited for each other,” Easton said. His voice was low and dark.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Elton was at once both insulted and desperate to know why Easton said that.

  “Because in the span of a day, she slapped me on one cheek and you punched me on the other.”

  “She slapped you?”

  “She did. Apparently, I’m not the one she wanted to be kissing.”

  Elton shouldn’t feel the lightness of hope. Not when he had just struck his brother, who still looked furious. Not with the day he’d had. But hearing that Adele hadn’t welcomed Easton’s advances meant that Elton still had a chance.

  Or did he?

  Adele had clearly been after Easton for years. If the perfect twin wasn’t good enough for Adele, why would Elton stand a chance?

  Easton stormed out the back door, a bag of frozen peas in hand. The screen didn’t slam though, and Elton looked up to see why. Cilla held it open with a palm. Both her brows were raised.

  “Did I pick a bad time to stop by?”

  Elton laughed. He couldn’t help it. Nothing about this situation was funny, but he bent over, hands on his knees, laughing until tears tracked over his cheeks.

  “Um. What gives? Easton almost knocked me off the porch and didn’t even apologize, and you’re in here having a conniption. Something in the water?”

  Elton wiped his eyes and stood up. “Today has been quite a doozy. So, come on in. Pile it on. I can see that you have something to say. There is nothing that could throw me more than what’s already transpired.”

  Cilla’s lips twitched. “I actually doubt that. Maybe this should wait.”

  Only then did Elton see the velvet jewelry box in her lap. His mother’s jewelry box. His mouth went dry. Any mirth left in him disappeared. He ran a hand over his jaw, then sat down at the table next to the spot they always left open for Cilla’s wheelchair. She rolled close and set the box on the table between them.

  Elton swallowed hard. “Should I get Easton for this?”

  “I think for tonight,” Cilla said carefully, “maybe we should leave him be.”

  “Probably better,” Elton muttered. “What’s in there? Just tell me. Is it bad?”

  Cilla shook her head slowly. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. Elton couldn’t help staring. Cilla almost never cried. It made his own emotions start to rise again, tightening his chest. As he’d told her, it had been a day.

  “It’s got something blue in it. But not anything I can wear on my wedding day.” He scrunched up his eyes in confusion, and Cilla gestured to the box. “Just open it. I’ll wait.”

&n
bsp; Elton thought of arguing. His mama was always present in his days. Especially staying in the house. Every nook and cranny of this farm had some kind of memory, a stamp of her on it. It was like living with a friendly ghost that you wished beyond reason would actually haunt you.

  He had a feeling whatever was in the box just might.

  The velvet caressed his fingertips as he ran a hand along the top edge. With a deep breath, he lifted the lid.

  Before he even read the letter, the sight of his mother’s handwriting, as familiar as his own, had the tears flowing. By the time he finished reading the letter, Elton was sobbing. Not even caring that Cilla witnessed his breakdown.

  She took the letter from his hands gingerly. He hadn’t realized that he was about to crush it in his fists. She rubbed a hand over his back in small circles. It should have felt comforting, but Cilla was so not the tender, comforting kind.

  Elton finally managed to meet her eyes. Sniffing, he said, “You can stop that.”

  She sighed and pulled her hand away. “Thanks. It seemed like the right thing to do. But felt totally weird.”

  She shuddered, and Elton was surprised to find that he was smiling. Cilla gave him a kind smile in return.

  “That was … wow. Thank you.”

  “I miss her too. Obviously, not as much. I’m not trying to say that.”

  “You can miss her. I don’t have dibs on missing her. She was amazing.”

  “Your dad too.”

  Elton nodded. He had been. But his mama had just been one of those people that lit up every room she entered and never went anywhere without making someone feel loved.

  His eyes fell on the rings. Elton reached out touching the sapphire. He expected it to be cold for some reason, but it wasn’t.

  Reading the letter had reminded him of the pastor’s words from that morning. Not so much in what his mama said, but more in that they made him feel loved. Forgiven. Whole, in a way that he hadn’t felt in years. Lately, he kept thinking that his mama would be disappointed in what he’d done with his life. Or, rather, what he hadn’t done. This letter was assurance of her love for him.