Mistletoe Cowboy: A Cowboy Inspirational Romance

by Lacy Williams

  Chapter Four

  "You're not dressed."

  Justin's shoulders tensed at Brandi's half-whining tone as the classroom began to fill with students and noise. He glanced up and found she was wearing a banana-colored, princess-style dress with a huge, puffy skirt. She had a tiara in her hair, which had been wrapped into a bun.

  He looked down at his T-shirt and faded jeans. "I'm dressed."

  "You're not dressed up," Brandi said, pushing the issue. When she sat down, her dress was all up in his space, pressing against his jeans.

  Valri moved past him, taking her seat a few minutes earlier than usual. He saw her lips twitching with a grin.

  She was wearing regular clothes, a sweatshirt and jeans, but had painted a pink nose and black whiskers on her face, which matched nicely with the bunny ears perched on top of her head.

  He grabbed his Stetson off his desk and smashed it on his head. "There. I'm a rodeo cowboy."

  "Former," Valri murmured from beside him.

  And he found himself grinning a wide, silly grin. One that she returned.

  "Happy Halloween," she said softly, depositing a Coffee Hut paper coffee cup and cardboard wrapper on one corner of his desk.

  "Back atcha." He placed a wrapped sandwich and small tub of soup on hers. "You didn't have to bring me anything."

  "Neither did you, but that hasn't stopped you yet. Thanks." She tipped the soup at him before raising it to her lips and sipping straight from the bowl.

  He'd made a habit of bringing her something to eat since the night of her first failed speech. She'd been so disappointed that night, it seemed the least he could do. His gestures had nothing to do with the smile she gave him now.

  They usually only had a couple of minutes together—with Brandi always there—before class started, but he'd learned a lot about her during those minutes.

  She was smart. He'd seen the advanced science textbooks in her backpack and learned she was serious about becoming a doctor. She'd shared that she volunteered several hours a week in a free clinic. He couldn't figure how she got everything done.

  He picked up the coffee and took a sip. He wrinkled his nose and shoved it away from him on the very corner of his desk. "What was that?"

  She doubled over giggling, even though she had a mouthful of sandwich. She chewed and swallowed. "Pumpkin spice. For the holidays."

  "Why would you do that to me?"

  "You never try anything other than coffee, black," she said in a creditable impression of him.

  He raised his brows, and her lips twitched.

  She reached behind her and traded the pumpkin crap for another, identical cup. "Okay, it was a Halloween prank."

  He took it, leaving one skeptical brow raised at her. He sniffed the opening and was rewarded with a whiff of strong, plain coffee.

  He sipped it gingerly. "Aaah, sweet nectar."

  She shook her head, taking another big bite of sandwich. She swallowed. "How many cups of coffee do you consume, anyway?"

  "Daily? Five or six."

  "That's a lot of caffeine, buster."

  "Says the coffee shop girl."

  "Says a future doctor," she corrected.

  Indeed. And maybe it was too much, but he needed it. Or that's what it felt like. If he had to have one vice, he'd rather it be coffee than the pain meds he'd relied on to get through those dark days after he'd lost everything.

  Nope, he wasn't going to think about that. He sipped his coffee and then set it down. "I've been trying to figure something out."

  She hummed something that might've been "What?" over her next mouthful. It gave him a deep, intense joy to see her enjoying his gift.

  "How old are you? You said that first night you were a junior but..."

  He let his voice trail off when she got a peculiar expression on her face.

  She swallowed and took a sip of the pumpkin coffee. There was something intimate in knowing his lips had been on that same spot a minute ago.

  He swallowed hard.

  "But..."

  He'd nearly forgotten what he'd been saying and floundered.

  "But I'm too young to be a junior?" she asked.

  There was an edge to her voice that hadn't been there before.

  "I graduated high school at sixteen and a half. Between med school and residency, I have a lot of school ahead of me."

  "So you started early?"

  She nodded. "Why not? I know my path."

  It was the thing he envied most about her. She knew what she wanted out of life, and she wasn't afraid to chase after it.

  He'd been like that. Before. Chasing his dreams of being a champion and having the financial freedom that had seemed so unattainable when he'd been a kid.

  Now he was listless. A ship without a rudder. A man without a goal.

  The prof started class, and at the break, Brandi tipped her head coquettishly at him. "There's a Halloween party later tonight at one of the frat houses. Do you want to go? With me?"

  Three years ago, he would have accepted her invitation and whatever else she offered him. He would have had no thought for consequences. Only for fun.

  But he smiled a little and tried to let her down easy. "No, thanks."

  Valri stayed in her seat, finishing the notes she was frantically scribbling.

  He didn't think she was paying any attention, but after Brandi huffed away, Valri kept her head down and asked, "Why didn't you go out with her?"

  "She's too young for me."

  He'd meant the words to be flippant, but she didn't look up. He could see pink filling her cheeks.

  Had she been fishing? If she had, did that mean she'd thought about dating him herself?

  The thought both elated him and gave him pause.

  For her sake, he needed to keep his distance.

  #

  Valri rubbed her sand-filled eyes. She was the only one awake and felt like the clock was judging her as it flipped past one a.m.

  She had to be at work in four hours. And she was supposed to be writing the last two paragraphs of a research paper for her biochem class, but instead she had an online video site open.

  And she couldn't look away from the horrific images of Justin falling from the back of a huge brown bull. And then being stepped on.

  She'd been curious about how he'd been injured. She'd followed a link on the page and surfed through several follow up stories. It had been a career-ending injury. He'd never ridden a bull again. And she knew he still limped. Based on the way she'd caught him wincing a few times, she knew it still hurt.

  She'd found herself back on the original video, watching his injury over and over again, watching the paramedics rush onto the scene, watching them load Justin onto a stretcher and take him out of the arena, his face etched with intense pain.

  She'd originally gone to the site to look up his endorsements. Brandi talked about them in class often enough, and Valri couldn't help wondering. There had been commercials of him wearing a well-known brand of cowboy jeans, throwing hay bales into the back of a pickup truck.

  The man had a nice backside.

  But Valri was drawn to his pain.

  What drove a man to choose bull riding as a career path? There was no doubt he was good at it. There had been videos of many successful rides, lists of purses he'd won.

  What drove him now? Seemed he didn't date. Tonight wasn't the first time she'd overheard Brandi ask him out.

  And yet... he brought Valri supper every class period.

  She'd thought about him a lot. Even before their class, when he'd only been a face to serve at the Coffee Hut, she'd found her thoughts drawn to him. And now, Justin was never far from her mind.

  She'd almost gotten up the nerve to ask him out herself. But it hadn't mattered, because if he thought Brandi was too young for him, then surely he'd think Valri was, too.

  She'd chickened out.

  But she was still here, online, watching videos of the enigmatic cowboy when she should be studying.
/>   He was such a contradiction. Kind when he brought her food since she didn't usually have time to eat supper. Distant when she attempted to get personal in conversation.

  Not that she should be surprised. She wasn't anything special. Third of ten children, her best qualities were her ambition and her family loyalty.

  But that wasn't anything special. Her family was the opposite of well-off.

  Why would someone like him be interested in a nerd like her?

  Chapter Five

  An extreme cold front blew in over the weekend and a few campus emails speculated about the possibility of class being cancelled. It wasn't.

  Valri watched the snow falling harder and harder out the classroom windows and then, finally, the Comm 2 professor let them out of class early.

  She was about to rush out the back door when he called her to the front of the class to talk about some questions she'd emailed him about the extra credit project. When she finally made her way to the commuter parking lot, it was deserted except for her snow-crusted blue Honda sedan.

  Snow buffeted her, battering her body. She'd loaned her younger sister her heavy winter coat, and her leather jacket wasn't much protection against the frigid wind. She'd forgotten a scarf and gloves.

  The only thing she dreaded more than driving through this mess for an hour—that could easily turn into two—was cleaning all that snow off her car. But what choice did she have?

  And then as she approached, she noticed her car was leaning to one side. It hadn't been like that when she left it to go inside to class.

  No.

  She rushed forward and saw the cause: a flat tire.

  She looked back across the empty parking lot to the building. All the windows were dark. Her professor had likely gone out to the staff parking area on the far side. He was probably long gone. Crap.

  She could call her father, but it would take him an hour to get here, maybe more in this weather.

  She could change a tire. Probably. Besides, what choice did she have?

  After stowing her backpack in the backseat, she went to the trunk and lugged out the spare. It took some doing to find the jack and tire iron in the dark and swirling snow, but she managed it.

  She was sure she'd ruined her jeans in the parking lot grime, but she cranked the jack and got the car lifted. Her hands were numb. She blew on them in a futile attempt to warm them, then gripped the icy tire iron and slid it over the nut. She yanked and pulled, but that nut wouldn't budge. She tried another bolt with the same results.

  Her lungs constricted in the cold air.

  How long could she sit in the running car before she ran out of gas? Was she even supposed to be in the car with it up on the jack like that? She stared, shivered, and told herself she was not going to be the first student at this campus to die of a flat tire.

  And then a pair of headlights sliced through the night and falling snow. A car door slammed, and a familiar voice called out. "You having trouble?"

  Justin.

  Relief brought hot tears to her eyes, but she didn't dare let them spill, not with her lashes already clumped together with snowflakes.

  "Just a flat," she said, trying to keep her voice even.

  "Let me take a look."

  He brushed past her, his gait just slightly off. She worried about that leg, remembering those videos of him being stepped on. Her hand flashed out and she clasped his forearm. "Wait."

  He stopped abreast of her, their shoulders almost touching. His hat shielded his face from the snow and kept his eyes in shadow.

  "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

  He shifted and looked at her. She couldn't read his eyes, but his jaw tightened perceptibly. There was a dangerous tone in his voice when he said, "What do you mean?"

  "Your injury—can you lift…?"

  He jerked away, giving her his back. "It was my pelvis, not my back."

  He bent over the jack, turned, and picked up the spare tire. He squeezed it between his hands. "You've got a problem here. Your spare is flat too."

  "It is?" Doom.

  "Yep."

  His voice was so matter-of-fact, while tears stung her eyes. She fumbled in her pocket, attempting to pull out her cell phone. "I can call my dad."

  He knelt beside her car and lowered the jack. Probably wise if it had to be left out here overnight. "Shops are going to be closed. I'll drive you home."

  He didn't leave her room to argue. She was so cold… nearly numb. Her teeth chattered as she said, "I need my b-b-b-backpack."

  He grunted an acknowledgement. "Get in the truck."

  She trudged through the already-deep snow and fumbled with the door handle, her hands stiff and knuckles not working. Then he was behind her, his gloved hand closing over hers on the handle, popping the door open, then boosting her inside.

  He had left the engine running and just being out of the wind was a relief, but it wasn't as warm as she'd expected.

  She let her eyes close, exhaustion seeping over her.

  Moments later, there was a rush of cold air, and then the driver's side door shut with a thud. Something big hit the bench seat between them. Her backpack.

  "Where are your gloves? Are you falling asleep? You might be hypothermic."

  He sounded angry. There was motion on his side of the truck, the sound of cloth rasping, like maybe he'd taken off his gloves.

  "I wasn't r-r-r-eady for the cold," she said, as if that weren't obvious.

  He reached for her, chafing her hands between his larger ones. "The truck's heater is on the fritz. It works, but not very well."

  "It—s ok-kay," she said through chattering teeth. "Thanks for stopping to help me."

  He said something under his breath, and his eyes were still burning when he looked at her.

  "You rush into class without eating supper. You don't have gloves on one of the coldest nights of the year… You need someone to take care of you."

  His words were like a blast of arctic air across her face. She snatched her hands back, glaring up at him. "I can take care of myself."

  He ignored her, nudging her backpack onto the floor. He wrapped one strong arm around her waist and tugged her across into the middle of the bench seat.

  "What are you doing?" she squealed, struggling ineffectively.

  "I told you, the heater is on the fritz. I'll have to warm you up."

  He tucked her under his arm.

  And it was warm.

  #

  I can take care of myself.

  Valri's words reverberated in Justin's brain as he peered through the swirling snow. Visibility sucked. He was going twenty on a state highway, afraid to go any faster for fear of running off the road. The snow had started to pack into ice. His tires skidded and his hands flexed on the wheel as he carefully guided the truck out of it.

  He was having more than a little trouble concentrating on the slick road conditions with Valri pressed up close to his side. He'd had to let go of her, because he needed both hands to steer, but he was gratified that she had stayed in the seat next to him.

  He might've offended her. She hadn't spoken since he'd pulled out of the university parking lot. Either that or she was frightened and wanted to let him concentrate on driving. Once she'd warmed up some, she'd pulled out her cell phone and sent off several text messages, her phone buzzing multiple times and letting off a blue glow in the dark cab of the truck.

  The silence was starting to make him uncomfortable. He'd had a meeting with his faculty advisor earlier in the afternoon and parked in a secondary commuter lot. When the Comm 2 prof had dismissed class, Justin had cleared out with the rest of the students.

  But after the long walk in the freezing, blowing snow, something inside had urged him to drive through the other parking lot.

  He didn't want to think about the paralyzing fear he'd felt when his headlights had cut through the snow and illuminated her standing near her car. What would she have done if he hadn't driven by? Probably called Daddy, but she'd
been out in the cold long enough that she wasn't firing on all synapses when he'd put her in his truck. There was a chance something worse could have happened to her—like hypothermia.

  And that didn't bear thinking about.

  Nor did he want to think about her concern when she'd asked if he would be okay to change a tire. As if he were an invalid because of a little limp. His ego had taken a definite hit.

  He didn't want to think. Period.

  "Why do you want to be a doctor so badly?"

  He ground his teeth after the question had already popped out. It was too personal, and the last thing he needed was to get personal with her.

  "When I was eight, one of my younger brothers fell off his bike and busted his face. I'm not talking scrapes and bruises—he had to have twenty stitches and get his broken nose reset."

  Ouch. He'd broken his nose once on the back of a bull. It hurt.

  "My parents were at work and had left my older brother Kevin in charge. There was blood all over—and Kevin is not good with blood. He was in hysterics, talking to the 9-1-1 operator, and somehow, I just knew what to do. I went to the bathroom cabinet and got some towels to staunch the bleeding. I talked to Steven, told him that he'd have a cool scar, better than any of his older brothers had, and that seemed to make him happy. When the paramedics got there, one of them looked right at me and told me I'd done a good job. That I could be a doctor one day."

  It was a nice story. His childhood hadn't been roses like that, with family all around and a doting mother. His own mother had shut down after his had dad died, leaving Maddox in charge most of the time and short-wiring both of their childhoods.

  "Plus, there's the money."

  His eyes slid to her. He couldn't help it. He jerked his gaze back to the road quickly, but she stared straight ahead, looking as serious as all get out.

  "You don't seem like the kind of person who worries a lot about money." Her clothes weren't cheap or worn, but neither were they designer labels.

  "When there's never enough to stretch far enough, having a comfortable life seems like a worthy goal."

  He wanted to ask more, but before he could, she tilted her head toward him. "How long were you in the hospital after that bull stepped on you?"