Darn Good Cowboy Christmas

by Carolyn Brown

  Less than a minute later he drawled, “Liz,” and burst inside her.

  “Oh, my God,” he said when he could breathe. “It happened again. Darlin’, I’m so, so sorry!”

  She giggled. “Guess we’d best save dancing for very special occasions or we’ll burn ourselves down like a wild grass fire.”

  “We’ll never need to buy a Viagra pill. When I’m old all I’ll have to do is look at that costume and bingo,” he whispered.

  “If I remember right, the appetizer last time didn’t do a damn thing to satisfy our appetites and we had to have a main course.”

  When I am old, she thought. He’d said that they would be together when he was old, and she liked that so much that she would have danced for him again right then.

  “I do believe we did.” He grinned.

  He rolled to one side and started a long, serious session of foreplay that included removing her headpiece, setting her up in the middle of the bed, and brushing her long hair while his other hand carefully unhooked the bra, then without breaking a single bead, he laid it on the end table.

  “Oh, oh, that feels good,” she said.

  No one had brushed her hair since she’d gotten independent enough to take care of it all by herself at the age of six. She had no idea so many sensual nerve endings could be found by a naked cowboy with a hairbrush.

  When she was totally naked, he moved her around to sit in front of him on her knees. “Now kissing but no touching anywhere else.”

  “Why?”

  “You will see,” he said.

  She leaned forward and he did the same.

  The kisses started out sweet and deepened gradually until they were both panting.

  “Now one hand only and above the waist,” he said.

  “God, Raylen, you are killing me,” she said.

  “Not any more than you are me, but we are going to savor each moment of this night, Liz.”

  His right hand inched to her breasts and gently touched them as if he weren’t sure he should be there. He looked deep into her eyes, asking for permission to touch her without saying a word.

  The fingers of her right hand combed his chest hair and she did not blink as she begged him to love her and never break her heart.

  Five minutes later he said, “Both hands and full body.”

  “Thank God!” she mumbled.

  A few minutes after that she was arching against him and whimpering. “Please, Raylen. Take me now.”

  He settled in for a long haul with a firm thrust, but when she used some of those belly dancing moves in a horizontal position fifteen minutes later, he cupped both of her hips in his hands and with one final thrust reached a climax so strong that it knocked the breath right out of him.

  “Wow!” she said when she could speak.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said between gasps.

  “Hold me. I see stars and hear music.”

  He rolled to one side, wrapped her tightly in his arms, and buried his face in her black hair. No sir, he would never need those little blue pills, even if he and Liz lived to be a hundred.

  “Promise me one more time that I’m the only man you’ll ever dance for like that,” he said.

  “You got it,” she said. “Only for you and only on special occasions.”

  “Like my birthday, Christmas, and our anniversary?”

  She smiled. He was thinking they’d have anniversaries.

  “And maybe July Fourth. We’ll make our own fireworks.”

  ***

  Friday night was a little warmer and the stars were shining. Liz wore jeans and a carnie logo black shirt, tied a money apron around her waist, and worked the crowd. She’d just made a hundred dollars from a man who’d been determined to win his girlfriend the biggest teddy bear on the rack. If he’d been throwing for doughnuts, he wouldn’t have even gotten the hole. He did finally hit one balloon and Liz gave the lady her choice of the medium-sized animals as a consolation prize for all the money he’d spent.

  She turned around to pick up a balloon to blow up and there was Raylen in the galley with her, sitting on a small stool at the end of the stuffed animal display. He’d already blown up a bright red balloon and tied a knot on the end.

  “Tressa said I could work with you tonight,” he said.

  Liz smiled and kissed him soundly right smack on the lips. “I missed you today. What have you been doing?”

  “Exercised the horses and then cleaned out their stalls. Work before play.” He grinned back at her. “Last night, I worked with your momma in the cinnamon roll wagon. It was quite an experience. I barely beat you home and got a shower before you came to dance for me.”

  Liz jerked her head around. “You were here? Why didn’t you come find me?”

  “Because I was working on one end of the carnival and you were holed up on the other end. I left at ten because your momma said it was slow.”

  “Why’d you work again?”

  He pulled her down onto his lap. “Best way to get to know someone is to work along beside them. That’s what Grandpa taught me when I was a boy.”

  “We gettin’ to know each other tonight?” she asked.

  “Guess so. There’s a customer eyeing the big bear. You going to reel him in or want me to try?”

  “Give it your best shot.” She stood up.

  “Hey, mister, your pretty girlfriend sure would like to take our big bear home with her. You can start to win it with only three darts. Three little darts to hit three balloons out of five and that gets you the first stuffed animal of your choice. Trade it back in and buy three more darts for the next size until you make it all the way to the big bear. What do you say? Three darts for two bucks or twenty for a five dollar bill.”

  The man shook his head.

  “Well, sweetheart, I guess you don’t get that bear tonight. Or else you’ll have to find another cowboy to win it for you,” Raylen said.

  The man walked straight to the gallery and laid out a five dollar bill. It took every one of them but he popped three balloons. Liz blew up three more and Raylen tacked them to the corkboard.

  “Keep it or try again?” Raylen said.

  He shook his head.

  The lady looked at the bear and stuck out her lower lip in a fake pout. Liz had seen that ploy before and it worked about eighty percent of the time. The next step would be squeezing her boob right up to his arm and whispering something in his ear.

  He laid out another five and popped the last balloon with the tenth dart. The woman traded her tiny piglet for a medium-sized zebra.

  “That’s it, Misty. You can either keep the zebra and go dancin’ tomorrow night at the club, or else we’ll try for the bear,” he said.

  Misty kissed the zebra and they walked off.

  “Fish just flipped back into the water,” Liz said.

  Raylen squeezed her hand. “Your turn. If you put another hundred in your pocket before the next fish gets off the hook, I’ll make you breakfast in bed.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then you are breakfast in bed, and I’m not talking about food.”

  “I guess you mean to spend the night with me?”

  He chuckled and tilted his head toward a soldier in uniform hugged up to his girlfriend. “I see a big fish, and are you askin’ me to sleep over at your house tonight?”

  “You’re damn right,” she whispered and handed the soldier a handful of darts for his five dollar bill.

  Twenty dollars later the soldier handed the big bear to his girlfriend.

  “Lucky SOB,” Liz said.

  “Not as lucky as I am,” Raylen answered.

  “What if we are too tired?” She yawned.

  “I didn’t say we had to collect on the bet tomorrow or even the day after. There’s lots of mornings left in our life if we live to be three score and ten.” He slung an arm round her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek.

  Chapter 20

  On Sunday morning, Liz’s eyes popped open at five o’clock
. She had one leg thrown over the edge of the bed when she remembered it was Sunday and she didn’t have to go to work. She threw herself back down on the bed and shut her eyes, but she couldn’t force herself to go to sleep.

  Raylen turned over in his sleep, slipped one arm under her and another over the top, and snuggled up next to her, burying his face in her hair. Lying in his arms the past two nights, even without sex, felt so right, but right then she wanted to kick him out of her bed and run back to Bowie. She wanted to call Uncle Haskell and tell him to sell Raylen the land and put Ringgold, Texas, out of her mind forever.

  Marva Jo’s words played through her mind in a continuous loop. Just remember we are exotic to a gadjo for a little while. It didn’t last with your father. It won’t last with Raylen. Enjoy it while you have it and then let it go. Kind of like a butterfly on a pretty red flower. Stay until you tire of it and then fly away.

  Flying away now would break her heart, but if they ever got married like her mother and father, and then it didn’t last, she’d die of a broken heart. Marva Jo had been down the road and had hit all the speed bumps. She knew men much better than Liz did.

  Give it until Christmas, Uncle Haskell’s voice argued. You’ll know by Christmas if you want to give up the land, and you can tell me when you come home to Claude for the holiday. Don’t make a rash decision until then. You’ve only been there a month, and you’ve just had four days of carnival. See how you feel when they’re gone and you’re back in your normal schedule.

  Haskell was giving her an inheritance. Maybe because Aunt Sara had often wished that she was Liz’s mother. Maybe because he knew how it felt to want to settle down. But she owed him a few more weeks. Besides, a broken heart was a broken heart whether it was the week before Thanksgiving or the day after Christmas.

  She eased out of Raylen’s arms and padded barefoot to the kitchen where she put on a pot of coffee. She popped open a can of cinnamon rolls, put them in a pan, and slid them in the oven. While they cooked she laid half a pound of bacon over a stand-up rack and stuck that into the microwave.

  “I thought we were going to sleep in,” Raylen said from the doorway.

  “I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I decided to make good on my loss and cook breakfast for you,” she said.

  “The bet was I’d bring you breakfast in bed, and if you lost you had to be breakfast in bed.” He grinned. “You lost so let’s go back to bed.”

  “Can’t. Cinnamon rolls and bacon will burn,” she said.

  He slipped his arms around her and pulled her back to his chest. “I liked having you next to me in bed the last two nights, even if we were too tired for a romp.”

  His phone rang before she could answer. He picked it up from the counter where he’d dropped it the night before and frowned.

  “I’m on my way.” He was already putting on his jeans before he flipped the phone shut.

  “What?” Liz asked.

  “Glorious Danny Boy got out of the barn and jumped a fence or two. He’s the horniest old stud in the world. He gets to wanting a mare, and there ain’t a lock he won’t break. Damned horse anyway. We’ve got one mare we’re watching close. We put her out to pasture a year ago because Momma said she’s too old to bear any more colts to him, but he must really have a hankering for her. She’s going to drop a foal before long and we’re just hoping it don’t kill her. Dewar followed his footprints to the woods back behind our place. I’ve got to go help find him. We’re hoping to bring him home before Momma even knows he’s gone. Dewar has already called the vet to be on standby. I’m sorry, darlin’, but…” He left the sentence hanging.

  “Do you need me to help?”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. He’s going to be spooky out there in strange land. It’ll be best if Dewar and I take care of it. Are you going to help with the carnival teardown?” Raylen asked.

  “Yes. Call me as soon as you find him, please?”

  He gave her a quick kiss and stomped his feet down into cowboy boots. “I promise to keep you updated. See you later.”

  The microwave dinged as Raylen left, letting in Hooter and Blister at the same time. She pulled the bacon out and checked the cinnamon rolls. They were almost done, and the coffee had stopped dripping. She poured a cup and ate a piece of bacon while she waited on the rolls.

  Blister jumped up on the counter and meowed. Hooter looked up at her and yipped.

  “Hungry, are you?” She shook dog food from the big bag into Hooter’s dish and opened a can of cat food for Blister.

  The cat bailed off the cabinet, smelled the food, and rubbed around Liz’s legs. Hooter ate one bite before he sat down in front of the microwave and looked up. Liz reached down to rub Blister’s ears, and the cat licked her fingers. Hooter yipped again and Liz finally understood.

  “You spoiled rotten critters. You’re wanting bacon, aren’t you? Guess you might as well help me eat it since a bigger critter done stole my feller this morning.” She gave them each one piece and watched Hooter gulp his down in one swallow while Blister ate hers as daintily as English royalty at a tea party.

  She opened the oven door and got a whiff on hot cinnamon. That was the Sunday morning breakfast in the trailer. Her mother would have bacon in the microwave and canned cinnamon rolls in the oven when she woke up. They’d each get a fork and eat them right out of the pan and then they’d go outside and start tearing down.

  The rolls were toasted to a light brown when she removed them, cut a hole in the end of the plastic container of icing, drizzled it over the top, and ate out of the pan. And they were wonderful.

  ***

  Everything was still lazy when Liz reached the carnival. Blaze was sitting on his metal door step with a can of Pepsi in one hand and a toaster pastry in the other. He had pulled a lightweight jacket over a gray thermal undershirt. His flannel pajama bottoms were the ones Liz had given him for Christmas five years ago and had hot chili peppers printed on them.

  “Sit down, sweetheart, and tell me your week has been better than mine. Want some breakfast?” he asked.

  She scrunched in beside him. “I had hot cinnamon rolls and bacon. What are you whining about? My feller got called away to help find a runaway horse this morning while the bacon was still cookin’.”

  “I’m whinin’ because Colleen just breezed in and out of my life and I want to know her better and life is not fair,” Blaze said in a high-pitched little boy whine.

  Liz laughed. “Aunt Tressa didn’t sign a contract that life would be fair when she took you to raise. I think the one that the two of you worked up had something to do with lots of work, good pay, and you didn’t have to go to public school. And besides, you’ve still got until Thursday morning before you leave this part of the state.”

  “You got a feller and I found my soul mate and I didn’t even get to sleep with her.” Blaze kept up the whiny little boy voice.

  “You’ll be at my place until Thursday morning. There’s a big barn with a nice loft. She’ll be around if she’s interested. Have you lost your charm? Did the warranty run out on the charm and you forgot to renew it? Come on, Blaze, if she’s your soul mate, it will work. If she’s not, there’s lots of fishes in the sea,” Liz said.

  Blaze finished the pastry and licked his fingers. “I don’t want to fish anymore. I want a soul mate like you got in Raylen.”

  “How do you know that?” Liz asked.

  “It’s in the eyes and the way you look at each other,” he answered.

  “That’s a load of romantic crap. I’ve seen women look at you the same way since you joined the carnival.”

  Blaze threw an arm around her and hugged her up to his side. No bells or whistles sounded in her ears. Not a single spark sizzled in the air around her. No fireworks popped off in the distance.

  “It’s more than lust, Lizelle. It’s something that can’t be described. I knew when I looked at Colleen that she’s my soul mate.”

  “I heard that about what was her name? Oh, ye
ah, Janet. And then there was Ophelia.”

  “Those were just wannabes. Third time is the charm anyway and this time it’s real. I haven’t been to bed with anyone since I laid eyes on her.”

  “Good God, Blaze. You are worse than…”

  “You?” he asked.

  “Far worse. I didn’t know a man could have such a romantic side.”

  “We got that side, but we don’t admit it to just anyone. We damn sure wouldn’t tell it in a bar full of other men. Don’t leave. I’m goin’ to get dressed and then we’ll start taking down the Ferris wheel. The place is starting to wake up. Pretty soon everyone will have the takedown fever,” he said.

  She stood up so he could open the door into his trailer and waited until he was inside with the door shut before she sat back down. Other doors began to shut around her, and folks began to head toward the median or the rides to get the Sunday job done. The pickup trucks with trailers behind them were pulled up in a line at the back side of the property with enough room to unhitch and get out if they needed to do so. The semis and flatbed trucks were parked behind them. They carried the equipment, the rides and the vendor’s wagons. Five wagons to a flatbed, ponies in the horse trailer down at the end of the semis, stuff, stuff and more stuff in the big trucks. Vendors drove the trucks, and their wives drove the pickup trucks with the travel trailers hooked on the backs.

  The next day they would leave, leaving nothing, not even a candy wrapper, in their wake. This year instead of heading due west, they’d go fifteen miles north to Liz’s place. She had plenty of room for them to park and rest until Thursday morning when they’d be off to Claude. Poppa would be standing on the porch looking for them to stream onto the land by suppertime. Only this year, Uncle Haskell would be there too, for the first time, and Liz wouldn’t be driving her truck and bringing up the rear of the parade.