A Cowboy for Christmas
Page 1
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author
Copyright © 2019 by Sara Richardson
Excerpt from A Cowboy’s Christmas Eve copyright © R. C. Ryan
Cover design by Elizabeth Stokes
Cover photography by Rob Lang © 2019
Cover copyright © 2019 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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First Edition: October 2019
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ISBNs: 978-1-5387-1229-0 (mass market), 978-1-5387-1231-3 (ebook)
E3-20190930-DA-NF-ORI
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Disclaimer
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Discover More
About the Author
Praise for the Rocky Mountain Riders Series
Also by Sara Richardson
Bonus Novella: A Cowboy’s Christmas Eve by R.C. Ryan
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Yancy’s Snickerdoodles
About the Author
Don’t Miss A Moment of Life on the Malloy Ranch!
To Joni Leahy
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Acknowledgments
It’s hard to believe this is the last book in the Rocky Mountain Riders series! I have loved spending time with the colorful characters in Topaz Falls, Colorado, and am so grateful to everyone at Forever for allowing me to extend this series. To every editor I have worked with—Amy Pierpont, Alex Logan, and Lexi Smail, thank you for investing in this series and in these characters. Each of you contributed so much to making the Rocky Mountain Riders everything it has become, and I consider myself a better writer because of everything you have taught me.
A huge thank you to my wonderful agent Suzie Townsend for believing in this series and in me. I so appreciate your guidance and encouragement as I build my career. I couldn’t ask for better representation!
If it weren’t for my incredibly supportive husband and two amazing sons, I would never get any writing done. Will, AJ, and Kaleb, thank you for being my champions. You are my greatest blessing.
To my fabulous readers—it’s been incredible to see how you have connected with the Topaz Falls community. Thank you for all of your notes and reviews and comments on these characters and their stories. I have to say, out of all the characters, I have received the most questions about Darla. It seems so many of you have been anxiously awaiting her story. I hope you love it as much as I do.
Chapter One
Everyone had their dirty little secret, and Darla Michaels fully intended to keep hers under wraps.
She cinched the belt on her trench coat, pulled a long brunette wig over her short black hair, slipped on her Jackie O sunglasses, and climbed out of her cherry-red Mercedes roadster, which she’d parked across the street in case anyone she knew happened to drive by.
You’d think traveling two towns away from her home in Topaz Falls, Colorado, made for a pretty safe bet that none of her friends or acquaintances would find her out, but one could never be too careful. What if someone she knew back home had to make an impromptu Target run? Glenwood Springs would be the first place they’d come. They would likely take this very route, which meant they would inevitably recognize her car, because—hello—a cherry-red Mercedes roadster stuck out like a sore thumb among the burly, big-tired, four-wheel-drive SUVs and diesel pickup trucks that typically cruised these mountain roads. But that was okay because even if someone did happen to drive by and see her car, they wouldn’t know where she’d gone.
For all they knew she could be shopping in one of the many boutiques right here along the main drag. They’d never in a million years suspect she’d gone into the dingy basement of the nondescript brick building across the street. And that was good because whatever she did, she had to make sure no one in Topaz Falls ever found out about her secret life here.
After a quick scan of the street, Darla made her way across and ducked into the building through the glass door, which had been splattered with slush from the last snowstorm that had hit, right after Thanksgiving.
Once she stepped inside, the space’s familiar warmth brought a soothing comfort—the feel of the threadbare carpet beneath the soles of her boots, the hum of the old rickety furnace churning out heat. The first night she’d come here, she’d sworn it would only be a onetime thing. But somehow, eight years later, here she stood, getting ready to attend her eightieth meeting with her bereaved spouses support group.
Before going down the steps to join the others, Darla quickly removed the trench coat, then the wig, then the sunglasses. She balled up the coat and shoved it onto one of the cubby shelves the community center had built for children to store their belongings. The disguise was only for the outside world, not for this little community she’d become part of.
When her husband had died nearly ten years ago at the age of thirty, there were all these steps she felt she had to take. Step one: Make a ridiculously expensive and impractical purchase. Hello, Mercedes roadster. Step two: Get a new job that would completely dominate all of her time and thoughts. Three weeks after Gray’s funeral, she’d decided her job as pastry chef at an upscale restaurant in Denver wasn’t nearly consuming enough, so she’d taken the insurance money, moved three hours away to Topaz Falls, and opened the Chocolate Therapist—a wine and chocolate bar on Main Street, which had indeed dominated all of her thoughts and time. Then there was Step three: Attend a support group for grieving spouses so she co
uld talk about her feelings with people who understood.
She’d found the group two towns away, lest anyone in Topaz Falls get the idea that she was still a poor, grieving widow. Pretty much everyone in town knew her husband had died a long time ago, but after too many sympathetic glances and awkward I’m so sorrys, she’d made a habit of never discussing it with any of her friends. She gave them the basic facts, answered their questions, and made sure to always be the life of the party so they would all know she didn’t need their pity.
She’d never planned on discussing Gray’s death with anyone, actually. She had only attended that first bereavement support group meeting with the intention of crossing it off her list, a kind of Look! I did it! I checked off all the boxes! I’m a healthy and happy widow. But…well…for some reason she chose not to examine too closely, she hadn’t quit coming yet.
“Darla? Is that you?” Josie Wilken lumbered up the concrete steps from the basement meeting room. “I thought I heard the door.” Her smile went broad, the ends of her mouth accented with crescent-shaped dimples. Like everyone else in the group, Josie had gray hair, though she always wore it coiled on top of her head in a carefree knot that bobbed from one side to the other as she walked.
“You’re late,” Josie announced with a glance at her watch. As the group’s fearless leader, she’d always been a stickler for time. “You missed refreshments.”
Darla grinned at her and fluffed her hair back into shape. “I don’t need refreshments. I make chocolate for a living.”
“Speaking of…how’d the new recipe turn out?” Josie was always giving her ideas for new flavor combinations to try in her truffles. “For the lavender-infused variety?”
“They turned out unbelievable.” Darla unearthed a small box of truffles from her purse. “Seriously. I never would’ve thought to try it, but once again, you’re brilliant.” She handed the box to Josie.
“I knew it would turn out!” The woman opened the box and popped a truffle into her mouth, closing her eyes in obvious rapture. “Damn, I’m good.”
Darla laughed and linked their arms together, guiding her friend back down the steps to the basement. “So how’ve you been?” Seeing these friends only once a month meant there was always plenty of gossip to catch up on. In fact, that was really what the group had turned into—a place to talk about life with people who knew what it meant to go on living after someone you loved was gone.
“It’s been a boring month,” Josie complained. “The kids at school are doing all this crappy testing, so I haven’t even been able to do any fun projects.” As the art teacher at the local elementary school, fun projects were Josie’s specialty. “What about you?” Her friend paused outside the door of the community meeting room. “How’s your month been?”
Darla gave the same answer she usually did. “Good. Busy.” Though she would’ve liked it to be busier. Topaz Falls didn’t exactly see many tourists October through November. Things didn’t usually pick up until the ski season started, and even that had been slower with the warm, dry winters they’d had the last few years. “Hopefully we’ll have a busy Christmas season this year.” God knew the town needed it. They’d already lost three businesses over the previous several months.
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about Christmas.” Josie gave Darla’s shoulder a compassionate squeeze. “You’ll be comin’ up on the big One Zero this year, huh?”
Darla was only half paying attention. Inside the room, she could hear Peter, Ralph, and Norman discussing Peter’s latest date. “‘One Zero’?” she asked, also trying to eavesdrop on the men’s conversation.
“Yeah.” Josie steered Darla’s gaze back to hers. “You know, the ten-year anniversary.”
The realization of what her friend meant sent her heart skidding. “Oh. Right.” December 23. Ten years since Gray had died. “I guess I haven’t thought about it too much,” she lied. The closer the holiday got the more that familiar anxiety seemed to simmer. All those memories of trying to give Gray one last beautiful Christmas only to lose him days before.
“It’s a tough one, that ten years,” Josie said solemnly. She’d lost her partner twelve years before, so she always liked to keep Darla informed on what to expect as time went on. “I don’t know why, but that one hit me the hardest. Almost had me a mental breakdown, I did. Made me reevaluate everything in my life.” Josie and Karen had been together for almost twenty years, which was more than triple the time Darla had shared with Gray, but somehow that didn’t seem to matter. A soul mate was a soul mate whether you’d spent six years with them or twenty.
“You got a plan for how you’re gonna get through it?” Josie was big on plans.
“Like I said, I haven’t thought about it too much,” Darla said, brushing the whole thing off. “It’s always such a busy time of year, and I don’t usually mark the anniversary.” In fact, she did everything she could to keep herself too occupied to think about it at all. That was her MO: avoidance through escapism. So far, it had worked pretty well for her. In fact, it could work for her right now. She peeked back into the meeting room. “We’d better get in there before we miss all the juicy details about Peter’s date.”
“What? I told him to wait until I got back!” Josie took the bait and charged into the room with Darla at her heels.
“Hello gentlemen.” Darla dug into her purse and retrieved more boxes of truffles, handing one to each man.
“My God, I wish I was thirty years younger.” Norman gave her a hug. At eighty, he was the oldest in the group—but also the most handsome, she’d say.
“Lookin’ good, doll.” Ralph took his turn next. “Thanks for the chocolate. You’re my dream girl.”
Darla smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek. Come to think of it, this could be why she hadn’t left the group yet. It was good for her self-esteem.
“You’ll have to fight me for her, Ralphie,” Peter said, forgoing the hug completely to give her a quick smooch on the lips.
“You’re all a bunch of playboys,” Josie mumbled behind them.
“And I love them.” Darla gave her friend a wink. These men were actually decent, kind, and loyal.
“What took so long?” Peter demanded, munching his way through his third truffle. “What were you two talking about in the hallway?” Chocolate crumbs sprinkled the gray scruff on his chin.
“Darla’s coming up on her ten-year,” Josie informed the others.
Groans went all around.
Seriously? It was that bad? Dread crammed itself tightly into her chest. “It’s not a big deal.”
Peter finished off the last truffle. “Oh it’s a big deal all right.”
“There’s something about a decade that makes you rethink your whole life,” Ralph added.
Josie’s head bobbed in a self-important nod. “That’s what I told her.”
“And I’m telling you all, I’ll be fine.” She didn’t want to hear any more about how hard it would be. This year was like any other. She had her business, she had her friends, and she would plan a whole lot of festive events to keep her moving from one thing to the next. Memories of the previous year crowded her mind. She’d attended at least five parties in the days leading up to Christmas, but that hadn’t quite been enough to keep the loneliness at bay. She’d sat at home by herself on December 23 looking through old pictures of her first few Christmases with Gray. Not that she would share that with the rest of the group.
“Come on.” Darla took Peter’s hand and led the way over to the circle of chairs they typically sat in for their discussions. “I’m dying to hear how your date went last month.”
For the next hour they discussed Peter’s disastrous date. The woman he’d met online had brought her cat to the restaurant in her purse. The poor man had been caught unawares until the cat climbed up his leg and started to nibble on the mints he had in his pocket. When he’d jumped out of his chair, the entire table had flipped over.
“I wish you’d agree to go out with me,” he said t
o Darla as the meeting was wrapping up.
“Sorry, Pete. You know I don’t date.” She went out with men—and sometimes hooked up with the very tempting specimens—but dating was off the table.
Josie sent a look to the others and at the exact same time, they all opened their mouths. “Ten years,” they said in a chorus.
“Wow, did you practice that?” Darla stood and folded her chair. “Is that what you were doing before I came? Rehearsing?”
“Sorry, love.” Norman swooped in and put her chair away for her. “We just don’t want you caught off guard. It’s better to be prepared.”
“And anyway, I don’t understand why you don’t date,” Josie said, while Norman took care of the rest of the chairs. “If your loss is no big deal and all.”
Darla gave her a look. “Wow, it’s such a bummer we’re out of time tonight. Guess we’ll have to save that topic for another time.”
“Another time never comes,” the woman muttered.
Darla pretended like she hadn’t heard. “Can I give you a ride home, Ms. Josie?”
That perked up her friend’s sullen expression. “Sure.” She never could resist a ride in the roadster.
They all walked up the stairs together, filing out onto the street while they pulled on hats and gloves and coats. Darla went ahead and stuffed her wig and sunglasses into her purse since it was dark outside. Surely she wouldn’t see anyone she knew at this hour.
Everyone exchanged more hugs, and after the hearty goodbyes, Darla and Josie crossed the street together.
“Poor Peter.” Darla started to giggle again. “I was dying when he told us how the cat jumped the waiter.” That had to be one of the best blind date stories Darla had ever heard.
“That’s what you get when you use those online dating sites,” Josie said. “You only meet a bunch of weirdos.”
“And you wonder why I don’t date—” A spray of ice-cold slush hit Darla’s upper body. Cold. She gasped and sputtered, trying to mop her face with the sleeve of her coat, which had been soaked clean through. Oh God, it was freezing. She glanced at Josie, who by some miracle, had been spared. “Who the heck—?” A truck pulled over next to the curb ahead of them and stopped just behind her car.