by Janet Dailey
Choya gave her a half-smile. “He never did want to. I was thinking this year would be different, especially since you started living here. But he didn’t seem to ever mention it when he got home after Sunday school and I didn’t feel like pushing it—besides, there doesn’t seem to be any shortage of shepherds in the cast. I know he will someday. Maybe next Christmas.” He looked her way and the returned warmth in his golden eyes captured her.
Jacquie wriggled closer, irresistibly drawn to him despite her moodiness, and ended up under his encircling arm, her head resting against his chest. Choya rubbed her shoulder and kissed her silky hair, lifting it away from her neck with the other hand so as not to trap it.
The tenderness he’d had to hold back began to surface, and she was the willing recipient, craving his attention and listening with growing joy to loving murmurs that promised her everything she wanted. Maybe she was foolish to want so much from him, but it was impossible to believe he didn’t mean every word.
“You know something?” he whispered in her ear when she’d finally relaxed against him.
“What?” she asked dreamily, feeling caressed and comforted. “Don’t bring me back to reality. Even if you are a realist.”
His low laugh at himself warmed her. “Am I forgiven?”
“I think so.”
“Can I say what I was going to say to you?”
“Go ahead.”
He stroked her hair and wound its length around his hand. “With this hair and those beautiful dreamy eyes, you’d make a perfect angel.”
“Oh, Choya,” she whispered with a trace of dismay. “I’m not.”
“Good,” he said with satisfaction. Then he went back to kissing her. Jacquie arched with renewed desire, giving in to the pleasure of his very masculine company and forgetting all about being homesick.
Chapter 16
The morning dawned clear but very cold. The mountains in the near distance were dusted with snow, to her amazement. Choya grinned when he saw her marveling at the sight, as proud as if he’d personally arranged for the rugged Dragoons to look like a Christmas card.
“You picked the right year. That doesn’t happen every December.”
Then the three Barnetts ate completely different breakfasts and none of them sat down, managing only a few bites of food as they rushed off to do last-minute errands.
Choya was starting his day with chores.
Jacquie waved good-bye to Robbie and his grandfather as they waited in the yard for Sam’s old friend Garth. Hesitantly, Robbie lifted a hand to wave back and managed a smile. Good enough. That was progress. She turned away again, surveying the kitchen. She had half a mind to bake cookies and astonish them all. But she needed to find a foolproof, unburnable recipe first.
If nothing else got done, she’d earn points for Christmas baking.
She’d overheard Sam and Robbie whispering together about how to finish her presents when they were putting on their jackets, but she had no idea what those presents might be. She had picked up gifts for both of them when she’d been in Tucson with Choya—small trucks for Robbie’s collection and a new robe for Sam in a bold buffalo plaid. As far as Choya, she’d had no idea what to give him. Just buying any old thing so that he had a box to open didn’t seem right. But the stores within driving distance would start closing by early afternoon, and she’d already decided she would rather do that than give him nothing at all.
Looking out the window again when she heard a car pull up, she felt a little dispirited by the sight of Sam and Robbie leaving. Choya was going into town later, in the jeep. Right now he was in the barn, chinking the cracks between its planks before the horses froze their tails off, as he put it.
He always had something to do and he did everything on his own and did it well. With a wry smile, Jacquie remembered her mother’s frustration with her father’s interfering ways after he took early retirement. The mildmannered Maureen would have given anything to have Cameron out of the house and out of her hair. Eventually they’d settled down, he took on work as a consultant, and they figured out how to get along again—and now, with Jacquie grown and gone, they probably were enjoying their first vacation without a worry in the world for their darling daughter.
She considered wandering out to the barn to see if Choya needed help, but decided against it. The love nest in the hayloft was probably still there, but it was much too cold for fooling around, even fully dressed, and they’d never get anything else done if that got started.
Jacquie went looking for her laptop and found it in the living room. She brought it back to the kitchen, turned it on and waited only two minutes before she was able to go online. A recipe site provided easy cookie recipes and she picked the easiest of all: plain sugar dough that was chilled and then rolled out. She would have to use a glass to cut out the cookies and she didn’t have any icing, but there were chocolate chips, a whole bag of them, inside a container in the pantry marked BAKING SODA.
Sam was no fool.
Jacquie pinned her hair up, then found an apron. She assembled the ingredients and mixed up a big sticky lump of dough that she wrapped up in plastic and stuck in the fridge. That and the washing up killed an hour. She looked at the clock, another idea taking shape in her mind. She hadn’t caught up with any of her friends in months and she’d better do it before Christmas Eve. Starting with Tammy in Bisbee.
She checked her e-mail, then fired off one to Tammy. Within five minutes she had an answer—and in ten, they were chatting on video, catching up on everything and happily interrupting each other.
“It’s been way too long,” Tammy said eagerly. “How are you? You look great—so healthy and bright-eyed. So how are things with the rugged rancher?”
Jacquie grinned. “My mother told you about him, I see.”
“She sure did. I called to get your new address in Los Angeles and I got an earful. She seemed sure you were okay up there in Tombstone, so I didn’t worry. Long story, huh?”
“I wouldn’t even know where to start by now. But yes, I’m living with Choya.”
“Your mom thinks he’s a good guy and a great dad.”
Jacquie nodded, pleased by hearing that.
“So,” Tammy said casually. “Where is he right now?”
“Out in the barn.”
“Too bad,” Tammy pouted. “I wanted to get a look at the man who stole your heart. I hear he’s tall and handsome—yes, your mom told me that too. What if,” she added with a mischievous look in her eyes, “he heard us talking like this and sneaked up on you?”
“That’s not going to happen. He wears cowboy boots.”
A large hand dropped onto her shoulder. Jacquie jumped halfway out of her chair and shrieked. Then she turned to see Choya standing right behind her, in socks, his boots in his other hand.
“Sorry,” he laughed. “I saw you two online when I came in the door and your friend saw me. I couldn’t resist.”
“You scared me half to death!”
He only laughed again as she pummeled him, not really angry. Then she turned back to the screen, settling down again. He really had startled her. “Tammy, meet Choya.”
He bent down to look into the screen. “Hello.”
Tammy waved madly and cracked up, all at the same time. Choya spent only a few minutes more with both of them, then excused himself to go back to the barn.
“Wow,” her friend said as she eyed the rear view of Choya in jeans slipping his jacket back on.
Jacquie felt a flash of something she’d rarely experienced and recognized it as jealousy. She turned the laptop around, following a feminine instinct to guard what was hers. “You can look at my kitchen,” she instructed her friend. “The stove is new—check it out. I’m just going to walk him to the door. Be right back.”
“I don’t care about your stove. Besides, he’s already at the door,” she heard Tammy protest.
Jacquie got up to run to Choya.
“You’re so happy,” he said in a dry tone. “I
think I’ve been keeping you to myself for too long.” He chucked her under the chin and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Your friend seems nice.”
“She is.” Jacquie hesitated, feeling that unfamiliar sensation again. “And she’s pretty. Don’t you think so?”
He scoffed at that idea. “Not compared to you. Don’t be ridiculous.” He set his Stetson on his head and tipped it to her with a wink. “Enjoy the girl talk.”
He left. Tammy and Jacquie talked for at least an hour more, covering every subject under the sun and eventually getting around to what they were doing for Christmas. Like her, Tammy was at home doing not much of anything. Unlike Jacquie, she seemed perfectly content.
But a few minutes later, half-listening but happy just to see her friend’s face, Jacquie realized that video chats were the best cure ever invented for being lonely and wondered why she’d waited so long. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. The conversation wound down naturally and then Jacquie remembered one more thing she’d wanted to ask.
“Tammy—do you know anyone in Tucson who might be interested in subletting an apartment or studio? I’m putting together my application for the university there, and I’d rather not commute from here if I don’t have to.”
“Um, yes. Tell me more.”
Jacquie explained the situation, including her finances, and added, “So I need something cheap.”
“Got a pencil? I’ll give you Hannah’s e-mail. Her parents actually own several apartment buildings in the Tucson area—I’m sure they’d help you out. But are you sure you want to leave that gorgeous hunk of burning mesquite on his own for four days a week?”
“Shut up,” Jacquie giggled. “Even if you are my best friend.”
“It’s a good thing I’m happily married,” Tammy said primly. They wrapped up the call with promises to see each other soon and Jacquie clicked out of the video app. She felt warm all over, and it wasn’t from the coziness of the kitchen—she was at peace with her decision to be here now that she’d reconnected with a friend who was no more than a click away.
Thinking of the cookie dough, Jacquie got up to take a look at it. She opened the refrigerator door and gave the plastic-wrapped lump a poke. It hadn’t changed. Maybe it needed to be colder. Whatever. It could wait and she could e-mail Hannah in the meantime.
Tammy’s friend was online and answered in seconds. She was as nice as Tammy, from what Jacquie could tell, and instantly offered to help, telling Jacquie to send her the date she needed to move by and how much rent she could realistically afford to pay. She promised to get back to Jacquie right after the first of January.
Thanking Hannah several times, Jacquie signed off, grateful to have a friend like Tammy and very pleased with the information she now had. Everything was coming together. Jacquie didn’t shut down the laptop, trying to think of someone else she could video-chat with. No one came to mind.
Jacquie got the dough and patted it out on the flourcovered table. So what if the cookies were a little bumpy? It wouldn’t affect how they tasted and she swore a solemn oath not to let them burn. The neat circles of dough came easily out of the water glass she used for a cookie cutter and the first batch went in.
She made herself sit down in sight of the clock, knowing that if she left the kitchen, she would get involved in something else and ruin the cookies. Wiping her floury fingers on her jeans first, she touched a key and reread the e-mail exchange. For once in her life, she was going to be thoroughly prepared and not just go running off somewhere.
The clock ticked away the minutes as she prepared the second sheet of cookies and daydreamed simultaneously about driving down to Bisbee with Choya and showing him off—there was nothing more attractive than a shy guy in a Stetson, she decided. Make that a shy but rugged guy with a wild streak and gentleman’s manners. All mine, she thought.
No wonder Tammy had shown such avid interest. And yes, it was a good thing that she was married. Jacquie looked down at her hands and wondered how the left one would look with a ring on the fourth finger. Then she caught the very faint whiff of sugary smoke and grabbed a pot holder, pulling down the oven door. Just in time. They were dark brown around the edges, but not burnt.
She had the hang of it.
Jacquie had baked three dozen cookies by the time Robbie and Sam came back. With practiced skill, she removed a freshly baked batch and slipped in the next one.
“What smells so darned good?” she heard Sam call.
“Christmas cookies!”
Robbie beat his grandfather into the kitchen and looked at the pile on the platter. “Can I have one right now?” he asked breathlessly.
“You bet. They taste best right out of the oven.” She’d added chocolate chips to some, simply by pressing them down into the unbaked tops. He selected one of those and sat down to eat it.
Sam came into the kitchen and took a plain sugar cookie for himself.
“Okay,” she said, “if one of you would watch the clock for me, I can take a break. My hair’s falling down.”
“You go right ahead and pin it up again,” Sam assured her. “Take your time. Robbie and I will do random quality checks on these here cookies while you’re gone.”
“Don’t eat them all,” she called over her shoulder, heading for the bathroom.
Sam had the sheet in the oven out and cooling when she got back. But Robbie’s bright smile seemed to have faded. He sat at the table, nibbling at another one he’d taken from the platter, looking unhappy.
“He ate too fast, I think,” Sam said. “Robbie, I told you fresh-baked goods fill you up fast. You gotta pace yourself.”
“Yeah,” he said in a dull voice.
“Why don’t you go lie down on your bed for a bit?” she asked him. “You two must have done a lot of running around. Did you get everything you needed, Sam?”
The old man nodded. “Yep. And you should get going if you intend to do last-minute shopping.”
Jacquie untied her apron. “Good idea. There’s dough left but I made enough for an army. It’ll keep, right?”
“Yes indeedy.”
“Okay, then off I go. Be good, you two.” She ruffled Robbie’s hair on her way to get her jacket and the car keys, and ran out the door without closing it. The last thing she saw was his pale face and mournful eyes.
Could he really have that bad a stomach ache after only a few cookies? Maybe his grandfather had let him have treats while they were out. Jacquie felt bad for the boy but she was positive he’d improve by tonight. Christmas Eve! She was finally beginning to get the holiday feeling.
Jacquie pulled into the ranch yard as the sun was beginning its afternoon descent. It hadn’t warmed up the desert any, or dispelled the heavy clouds that didn’t seem to want to cross over the mountains. They hung in the sky, heavy and gray, a contrast to its blue. The radio weather forecast had predicted rain in scattered locales for northern Arizona but not here, which was fine with her. The dusting of snow on the Dragoons might even stick around for another day.
She reached onto the seat next to her for a rectangular package, wishing she could unwrap it for a final look. She had finally found something to give Choya—a handtooled belt of supple dark leather with real silver, hand-hammered conchos. Jacquie had spotted it in a Tombstone store she’d never been into, on the top shelf in a glass case. Quickly, she’d checked her balance on an ATM before she’d even asked the price, hoping and praying her father had put some money into her account for Christmas. He hadn’t said he would and her pride had kept from asking—but her daughterly instincts told her that he might have done it all the same. She was overjoyed to find out that she was right.
The belt was in a flat presentation box that was half its length. Wrapped, it wasn’t easy to guess what was inside. But she was glad she’d been able to afford something really nice that didn’t look last-minute at all.
Jacquie got out and crossed the ranch yard, not seeing the red glow of Sam’s favorite lamp. She wondered what she wo
uld do if he hadn’t started supper yet. Even if there was a Christmas turkey or ham in the freezer, she didn’t have time to thaw it.
Which left the menu choices to hamburgers or chicken, both of which Robbie loved. She had to assume his tummyache was gone. Jacquie shed her jacket and breezed into the kitchen, hearing Sam moving about in there from the hall.
“I got something really nice for Choya,” she announced, waving the wrapped package at the older man. “Is he here?”
“Yup. He never did leave. But he’s still in the barn,” Sam reported. “I told him he could use your cookie dough for chinkin’ if he had to.”
“You didn’t,” she said with mock indignation.
Sam chuckled and shook his head. “I wrapped it up and put it back in the fridge. Choya took a bunch of them cookies out to the barn. To keep up his strength, he said.”
“Oh, good. I guess I should go out and say hello.”
Sam bent down to open the oven door and a heavenly smell of baking ham wafted out.
“Where did that come from?” she asked, distracted by the sight—and the size—of it. “Not the freezer.”
“Hell no. This is country ham—the real thing, smoked right. Garth’s son lives in Virginia and air-ships him two every Christmas. So he gave me one. I set it aside in the hall but you were rushing around and then you dashed out.”
“Wow. We are going to have a delicious dinner and I didn’t have to do a thing.”
Sam basted the ham with its juices, using a long spoon, and then plastered brown sugar mixed with spices over the glossy surface. Straightening up with an effort, he closed the oven door again and adjusted the heat. “Won’t be too long from now,” he declared. “An hour, mebbe.”
“I’ll go ahead and make a salad.”
“I can do that,” Sam volunteered. “You go put your feet up.”
Jacquie didn’t want to argue with that pleasant scenario and headed for her bedroom, then decided to double back and put Choya’s present under the tree. There were a few others underneath it that had been placed there in her absence. She bent down and investigated. There was a strangely shaped one from Robbie to her, wrapped and double-wrapped with a lot of tape, and a soft, not very thick present from Sam, that was wrapped in a new bandanna and tied with thin cotton rope in a cowboy hitch.
