Mistletoe Cowboy

by Carolyn Brown

  “I’m fine. My husband got transferred to this area last summer. It’s not home and it’s taking me a while to get used to the place, but it’s only for two years and then we’ll probably be going to the East Coast for a while.”

  “Can I see those rings and that engagement ring beside them? I’m buying a ranch in the Palo Duro Canyon,” he said.

  “What for? We drove through there one time. I hated it.” She pulled the rings out and handed them to him.

  If the man’s ring fit his finger and if the woman’s ring fit his pinky, he would buy them. If not, it wasn’t meant to be. He picked up the smaller ring and it slipped on his pinky perfectly. The larger ring fit his ring finger just as well.

  “Who is she?” Macy flipped her blond hair back over her shoulder.

  “It’s complicated.” He put the engagement ring on with the band and held his hand up to the light.

  “That’s a fine diamond. One of the best we have in the store. Not the cheapest or the biggest but the best for fire and brilliance. Personally, I’ve always liked gold but some women do prefer white gold. That’s platinum, by the way, and it’s expensive,” Macy said.

  “I’ll take them and now I need to look at a bracelet.”

  “Tell me about her and I’ll make a recommendation.”

  Creed shook his head. He didn’t want to buy something for Sage that his ex suggested. He wanted something very special that only he would understand the reason behind the gift.

  “Tennis bracelets are here. All women love diamonds,” Macy said.

  He barely glanced at them before moving on. He checked his watch. He had fifteen minutes.

  Macy pointed toward a plain gold bracelet and that’s when he got the idea.

  “Show me some of those things that dangle on a bracelet like that.”

  She pulled out a tray of gold and silver charms and set it before him. “Like these.”

  “Do you have a bracelet like that only in white gold or platinum?”

  She put a tray of white gold bracelets in front of him.

  She pointed to one substantial enough to hold the charms he had in mind. “Then that’s what I want. Can you put these charms on it and have it ready to go in ten minutes?”

  “I can put them on as you pick them out.” Macy reached for a tool under the counter and held it up.

  Creed picked out a dog, a cat, a Christmas tree with a sparkling diamond at the top, and a round disk engraved with mistletoe in the middle. Tiny opals created the berries. It was a perfect gift. Each year he would add a charm to it that signified something wonderful that had happened in their lives.

  “Wow! That is some present,” Macy said. “Really, Creed, tell me about her.”

  “Like I said, it’s complicated. So you are happy?” he asked, changing the subject.

  He hadn’t seen her since she’d come home from that trip and told him that their engagement was over. But now, looking at her and hearing her talk about how happy she was and what a wonderful marriage she had, he wondered why he’d ever fallen for her anyway. Nothing stirred inside him. Not anger. Not bitterness. Certainly not passion.

  She handed him the bracelet tucked inside a long red velvet box that matched the engagement ring box. “There you go.”

  Fingertips brushed together and still he felt nothing. She rang up his bill and he didn’t even flinch.

  She handed him the credit card receipt. He signed the bottom and shoved his copy into his shirt pocket.

  “Creed, I never meant to hurt you. I really did think I loved you when I accepted your proposal.”

  “Macy, I’m over it. I’ve got to go now. Merry Christmas.”

  He looked at his watch and hurried out into the mall before he realized that the small bag had the jewelry store logo on it. He had five minutes so he went to a kiosk that sold small-tooled leather items.

  “Help you?” a lady wearing boots and a denim miniskirt asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “What kind of wallet are the ladies using these days?”

  She picked up one that looked like an oversized old-time cigarette case and handed it to him.

  “I’ll take it. And how about cell phone cases?”

  She showed him a rack where dozens hung.

  “This one. This one and this one.” He laid three out on the counter.

  She rang up his bill and he’d barely gotten the items paid for when his phone rang.

  “Yes?” He expected to hear Sage telling him that she had been waiting for ten minutes, but instead she was out of breath.

  “I ran into an old friend and we got to talking and I’m just now in the paper store. Give me ten more minutes.”

  “You got it,” he said.

  A window display caught his eye as he slowed his pace and took his time getting to the rendezvous place. He stopped and a wide grin spread across his face. There was the perfect gift for Sage. She’d all but stolen his favorite red and black plaid flannel shirt, and hanging right there on a mannequin was one very similar to his. The plaid was a little smaller and the flannel not as soft since it hadn’t been washed a hundred times, but she’d love it for a nightshirt.

  He walked into the store and bought the shirt. It was the last one so they had to take it off the mannequin. They wrapped it for him in shiny red paper and slipped it down into an enormous plastic bag with the store logo on the front. He put his leather purchase bag and his jewelry store bracelet down in the bag with the package and tied a knot in the top. The two ring boxes were in his coat pocket.

  ***

  Sage was on her way to the meeting point when someone ran up behind her and touched her on the shoulder. She whipped around and came face to face with Victor Landry.

  “Sage Presley! It is you!”

  “Hello, Victor. What in the world are you doing in Amarillo, Texas?”

  “My folks moved here last year. I can’t believe after all this time that you are right here in front of me. I hear you are the next rising Western art star. I’ve got to be honest—when you left college, I didn’t expect much.”

  She winced.

  “Well, you did have commitment issues. I figured it was in all things, not just relationships, but I was wrong.” He ran a hand down her arm. “Let’s go to dinner and talk art.”

  Dammit!

  She hadn’t wanted to go to dinner with Victor when they were practically living in the same dorm room. She damn sure didn’t want to go to dinner with him that day.

  “Hey.” Creed waved from ten feet away and quickly joined her.

  “Creed, meet Victor Landry. Victor, this is Creed.”

  Sage felt his eyes go to her left hand but it was holding so many bags that there was no way she could shove it into her pocket.

  Creed shifted his bags to his left hand and stuck the right one out. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. You live around here, do you?”

  “Victor and I were art students together at college,” she explained.

  “I remember being quite a bit more than that,” he said. “And to answer your question, no, I live in New Orleans. It’s a wonderful place to feel the art.”

  He was a tall, lanky blond-haired man. He wore black dress slacks and shoes with tassels on the toes. A pale pink shirt collar showed from under a pink and gray argyle sweater and his watch was a very good Rolex knockoff.

  “Well, it was good to see you, Victor. We’ve got to get home and do chores before dark. If you see any of our old crowd, tell them hello for me.” Sage’s voice was so high-pitched that it even sounded strange in her ears.

  He stuck a hand between the V-neck sweater and the pink shirt and handed her a card. “Call me, darlin’. We really should get together and talk art.”

  She pocketed the card. “Got to run. Come on, Creed. Cows have to be fed.”

  She didn’t even look back to see if Creed was behind her but set a course out of the mall as fast as she could go.

  “What was that all about?” Creed asked when they were insid
e the truck.

  “It was about nothing. Victor and I had a six-month thing. He wanted more than I wanted to give. End of story. Now let’s go home.”

  “Must be old flame week. I walked into the… into a store and there was my ex-fiancée working behind the counter. Her husband got transferred to this area and she’s teaching school down in Hereford.”

  “What’s she doing working in the mall?” Sage asked coldly.

  “Selling stuff while she’s not teaching, I guess,” he said.

  Sage looked out the window and bit her lip to keep back the smart remarks that were on the tip of her tongue. She’d been in such a good mood when she went into the mall, but a demon had taken up residence on her shoulder when she came outside. The devil could go by any number of names: jealousy, anger, fear. But it was there, so she turned a cold shoulder to Creed and stared out the window.

  He stopped at Home Depot and asked if she was getting out.

  She shrugged so he went in and bought a roll of insulation without her.

  He stopped at Walmart and she was out of the truck and practically jogging inside before he could put the vehicle in park. She bought the most expensive dog and cat food in the place and three of the biggest pots of poinsettias she could find. He loaded his cart with groceries, toilet paper, and laundry soap.

  She helped unload the items when she got home, fed the dog and the cat, and went to her room. She slammed the door, picked up his flannel shirt, and threw it at the wall. The nightshirt she found in her dresser drawer was old and soft but it wasn’t as comfortable as Creed’s shirt.

  Finally she threw herself across the bed and wept even though she didn’t know why she was angry or why she was crying.

  ***

  Creed didn’t know what in the hell he’d done to make her mad. He’d been up front and told her about Macy. After all, he’d bought an engagement ring and matching wedding bands. If things had worked out between them, he sure didn’t ever want it to come up that he’d actually bought the rings from his ex.

  He turned on the Christmas tree lights, sunk down into the sofa, and picked up the remote control. He flipped through channels until he found reruns of NCIS.

  “Understanding murder is simple compared to understanding a woman, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. You been married a bunch of times. What advice would you give me?” He talked to the character on the television.

  Gibbs said, “Grab your gear.”

  “That’s exactly what I probably need to do, ain’t it? Grab my gear and go back to Ringgold, Texas.”

  Noel pushed the pie plate around the floor, licking the last crumbs of her dog food from the corners. Angel sat in front of the tree and washed her paws.

  “All is quiet. All is calm,” Creed said. “Except in my heart. What in the devil made me think I could meet my soul mate and everything would work out just wonderful in two weeks? The season made me crazy is what happened. Blame it on Christmas.”

  Noel jumped up on the sofa and laid her head on Creed’s lap. Angel pranced across the floor and curled up on his other side.

  “Grab your gear,” he repeated. “Sounds like the best advice one man could give another in my predicament.”

  Chapter 18

  The whir of the sewing machine sounded through the whole house. The thing was old as God and sounded worse than a threshing machine. Well, almost, anyway! Ada remembered when her mother bought it in 1948. She was just a little girl that year and Essie had already gotten married and moved away. It was probably just tired of working and ready to retire to the attic with everything else Essie couldn’t bear to part with.

  Ada cut the small squares and Essie sewed them together. The pattern, showing them which colors went together, was tacked on the wall and provided plenty of fodder for arguments.

  “That thing sounds like a threshing machine. You sure you oiled it?” Ada asked.

  “Three times a year. On New Year’s Day. On Mother’s Day to remember Momma. And on Labor Day because I’ve made it work so hard,” Essie said.

  “Why didn’t you ever buy a new one?”

  “Didn’t need a new one and this one reminds me of Momma. We only got to go home to Oklahoma once a year at first because it cost so much to travel. And she’d always have the machine set up to make me a couple of new outfits.”

  Ada laid the scissors down. “I remember. She’d get so excited when your letters came, and the week before you were supposed to be there she’d cook all kinds of things.”

  “And send half of it back with me.” Essie smiled. “We’d eat on that food all the way home. We even shared with the folks on the train until we got our first car and could travel that way.”

  Ada went back to cutting squares. She’d thought she could sell the ranch and she hadn’t been wrong about Creed. He was the one. She’d known it in her bones that first day and they hadn’t been lying.

  But she couldn’t leave Sage on the porch the same way that Essie had left their mother all those years ago. She just couldn’t.

  Essie wouldn’t remember because she stayed a few days and then disappeared again. Ada was the one left behind to witness her mother’s tears, long sighs, and broken heart until the next time Essie came home to Oklahoma.

  “Just look what all we’re getting done,” Essie said. “Sage is going to love this.”

  “Yes, she is,” Ada said around the lump in her throat.

  “We’d never get it done in time if I didn’t have the quilting machine. Top it out today and tomorrow and quilt it on Wednesday,” Essie said as she worked.

  “You ever make one of these for your grandkids?”

  “Every one of them has a quilt. Gave it to them at their wedding showers. Did I tell you that Calvin’s oldest granddaughter is getting married in June? That’ll be the first great-grandchild to get married so we’ll start one for her after the holidays are over. What do you think? A wedding ring pattern?”

  Ada didn’t have the heart to tell Essie that she wouldn’t be there after the holidays.

  “I cried every time I had to leave Momma and Daddy. Especially after Daddy died and it was just her standing there on the porch waving until I couldn’t see her anymore,” Essie said. “I’m glad we’re together, Ada, in our last years. Being alone ain’t no fun at all and getting old alone is a pitiful damn shame. Especially on Christmas. This has been the best season since I lost Richard.”

  ***

  Sage had slept little and alternated between bouts of crying and cussing all night. Grand would be home in a few days. After the cold shoulder she’d given Creed the night before for no reason whatsoever, she’d best get to work on it. He damn sure wouldn’t want a thing to do with a moody woman who wouldn’t talk to him.

  “Oh, shit!” She wiped her cheeks and went back to cussing.

  It had been a date.

  A real, honest-to-god date.

  He’d taken her to dinner and to shop and damn, after seeing Victor she’d forgotten to go to the art store. And she’d acted like a bitch on a PMS high. She hadn’t kissed him good night; hell, she hadn’t even thanked him for the day.

  She hugged the pillow but it didn’t hug back and it didn’t wipe away the fresh batch of tears flowing down her cheeks. She had her mood swings every so often like most women, but what she experienced the previous night was brand new territory. If only she could get a line on why she was so upset, she’d face off with her demons and destroy them.

  “I’m twenty-six, not fourteen,” she said.

  The clock flashed five o’clock when she finally gave up and slung her legs over the side of the bed. When Sage was angry, she painted. When she was happy, she painted. She’d never tried painting through tears, but maybe if she cleared the multitude of thoughts from her head, she’d figure things out.

  She pulled on a pair of sweatpants and jerked a sweatshirt over her head. The nightshirt hung out the bottom, and her dark hair looked like she’d fought with grizzly bears all night. She pulled it up into a ponytail using only
her fingers for a brush.

  Palette in hand. Paint squeezed onto it.

  She picked up the right brush and started filling in the limbs of the tree behind the little dark-haired girl’s head. Her soul settled as she worked.

  When she had picked up a canvas it was white. That’s the way yesterday had started. A clean slate with the promise of something beautiful just around the corner. He’d knocked on her bedroom door and when she opened it, he had been leaning against the jamb. The first thing he did was tell her how beautiful she looked and then he kissed her ever so sweetly on the lips.

  “I’m here to collect Miz Sage Presley for a date,” he’d said.

  It was like sketching in the lines for the picture.

  Then they’d had such an amazing day right up until she felt Victor’s hand on her shoulder. And that’s when her brush slipped and she ruined the whole picture.

  She stood back and looked at the canvas in front of her. “But why?”

  Then the answers came flowing so fast that she could hardly understand them.

  It was painful to let go of the past. Victor reminded her of abandonment. He’d gotten so angry when she wouldn’t commit to living with him and even madder when she told him that she wouldn’t be back to college that next fall.

  She picked up her brush and the picture began to take shape. Creed would never understand why she’d acted so crazy. She couldn’t explain in words to herself. But sometime in the night, she’d faced off with her demons and she was ready to tell Creed that she was madly in love with him.

  It was eight o’clock when she looked up from her picture the next time.

  Angel hopped out of the basket and rubbed around her legs. And the puppies started whining.

  “Noel, feed your babies,” Sage whispered.

  But there was no Noel. She wasn’t on her blanket and the three puppies were crawling around crying for her.

  “Must be in Creed’s room,” she said.

  Even with Angel trying to trip her, the sound of puppies and kittens in the background, and a sparkling Christmas tree, the house felt empty. His door was wide open. The bed was made so tight that she could have bounced a quarter on it. Yet there was no Creed and no Noel.