A Cowboy for Christmas

by Sara Richardson

  “Yeah.” Ty hadn’t mentioned it to anyone yet. He hadn’t quite figured out how to pitch it to the guys. Somehow he’d have to convince all his contacts in the rodeo world to travel to Topaz Falls so they could humiliate themselves with a festive photo shoot and then be auctioned off like cattle. If that wasn’t a pitch, he didn’t know what was.

  Mateo paused and readjusted his grip on the oven’s door. “You don’t have to organize a whole rodeo and pose for calendar pictures, you know. Everly and I can figure stuff out. We have some savings we can fall back on.”

  “But you’re gonna need your savings later.” He stopped himself before saying when the baby comes. Until Mateo offered him that information personally, he wouldn’t talk about it.

  Mateo’s grin turned wry. “Darla told you about the baby, didn’t she?”

  Busted. Ty stepped over a wrecked bar stool. “How’d you know?”

  Mateo stopped again, and they set down the oven. “I figure you never would’ve agreed to a calendar and bachelor auction without some serious motivation. Everly told me she accidentally spilled the beans to Darla, so I figured she used that to coerce you into this whole thing.”

  “Not exactly to coerce. More like to encourage.” She was good at that encouragement stuff. Ty scrubbed his gloves together to warm up his hands. He’d be surprised if the temperature hit twenty today. “It’s great news. I’m happy for you guys.” Those two deserved something good in the midst of all this. Something to hold on to even when they were clearing away the ashes of their business.

  “We’re thrilled,” Mateo said, leaning against the oven. “It’s just tough timing is all.”

  That was an understatement. Getting news like that should’ve meant anticipation, celebration, excitement. Hell, Ty didn’t know what he’d do if he found out he was gonna be a dad. Probably a couple of backflips. He’d always wanted kids, but children tended to require commitment, and that had never been his strong suit. “Well, you’re not gonna have to worry about a thing. Darla’s the best at putting events like this together. I have a feeling we’ll raise enough cash for you to rebuild this place twice as a big. I just hope I get to wear clothes during the photo shoot.”

  “You and me both.” His friend moved to pick up the oven again, so Ty lifted the other side.

  “Everly said something about Rhett coming?” Mateo gritted his teeth as they navigated the edge of the charred foundation.

  “Yeah,” Ty grunted. They hoisted the oven up and tossed it in the dumpster. It made a satisfying crash when it hit the metal floor.

  “You’re on board with that?” Mateo dusted off his work gloves.

  Ha. His friend knew better. “I didn’t have a choice. You know how Darla is when she gets an idea in her head.” The second he’d seen her chasing him down the street, he’d known it was all over. “Darla wants him here, so I’ll get him here.” That was another thing he hadn’t done yet—called his brother and parents to invite them out for a good old-fashioned cowboy Christmas. He’d put off that phone call as long as he could. But he couldn’t put off telling his friends about his and Darla’s engagement plan. He had to prep everyone. Might as well start getting the word out. “Speaking of the cowboy festival, now that my family is coming, Darla and I will have to pretend to be engaged.”

  Mateo spun to face him, his jaw dropped. “You’re not serious.”

  “Does it look like I’m joking?” he asked, sporting a blatant frown. Darla had acted casual about the whole thing. They’d joked around and flirted like usual, but…he couldn’t help it. He wondered about her past, about her husband, about how that loss had affected her…

  “You and Darla?” Mateo laughed. It was the first time he’d seen his friend crack a smile since before the fire. He guessed that made his predicament worthwhile.

  “Why not me and Darla?”

  Mateo looked him over. “Won’t that be…complicated?”

  Ty had purposely been not thinking about how complicated it could be. Not that he minded spending time with Darla, but they’d have to act like they were in love. Still, he didn’t know what Mateo was getting at. “Why would it be hard?”

  “I guess I always thought you really had a thing for her.” Mateo tromped back to the remnants of the kitchen. “It would suck to spend all that time with her just pretending if you really felt something.”

  “I don’t feel anything.” A niggle in his chest counteracted the statement, but he couldn’t pinpoint the emotion. Needing to busy his hands, he started to sift through what looked to be half a cabinet.

  “Really? You don’t feel anything for Darla?” His friend came closer and got in his face like he could see right through him. “I could’ve sworn you did.”

  Ty kept digging through blackened pots and pans and dishes. “Why would you think that?” He found a plate fully intact and pulled it out, carefully setting it aside.

  “Because I recognize what it looks like. You watch her a lot when we’re all together. In fact, I was under the impression the feeling was mutual.”

  That gave him pause. “Darla doesn’t have feelings for me.” Neither one of them did real feelings. That was what had made their thing work. But for some reason it felt like something had shifted when he’d stood on that sidewalk and learned that she’d been widowed. Maybe because he’d seen pain in her eyes before she’d masked it—real, raw pain. Ty stood. “Did you know she was married once?” He still couldn’t get over that. She had this whole other life he knew nothing about. No one seemed to know anything about it.

  “Really?” His friend obviously didn’t find it any easier to believe than Ty had. “Darla was married?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t know either, but Levi did. He doesn’t know details. Just that she was married a long time ago and her husband died. That’s why she moved here.” That was all anyone seemed to know. The night of the fire, Levi had told him Darla didn’t talk about it, not even with her best friends.

  “Damn.” Mateo kicked through some snow and reached down to pick up a ceramic teakettle. “He passed away? That’s harsh. I guess it explains a lot.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  His friend shrugged. “You know how Darla is. She doesn’t seem to get too attached to anyone.”

  “Exactly.” And neither did he. “So this whole engagement thing shouldn’t be too tough. It’s only for a couple of weeks.” Maybe he’d even stage a breakup while his parents were here. That would save him the trouble of having to break the news to them later.

  Mateo carted the teakettle and the plate over to a box he had sitting nearby. “Man, that’s a lot. For you to have to bring your family out when I know you didn’t want to be around them for the holidays.” His friend gave him a guilty look. “I can talk to Darla if you want. Tell her we don’t need Rhett out here.”

  “Absolutely not.” Ty grinned. He was doing this for his friend whether Mateo wanted him to or not. “Your wife does more good for people than I could ever do in my lifetime.”

  Everly fed people. She brought them meals when they were sick or struggling with finances. He happened to know she and Mateo gave out plenty of free meals at the café—pretty much to anyone who couldn’t pay. This was one small thing Ty could do to help them. “I can suck it up and spend a week with my brother. I can pose for a couple of pictures and take some random woman out on a date after the auction.” He clapped Mateo on the back. “Showing a woman a good time happens to be one of my specialties.”

  “Uh-huh.” His friend leaned over and lifted a scorched tabletop, searching underneath. “And how good of a time are you planning to show Darla during your pretend engagement?”

  Ty wandered to where the dining room used to stand, pretending he hadn’t heard the question. He had no idea how to answer that. There was no denying the physical chemistry between him and Darla, but what was a fake engagement supposed to look like?

  Searching for a distraction, he focused on scanning the wreckage, moving his gaze over soggy chunks of
wood and metal and…wait. What was that? About ten feet away from his boots, something gold glinted in the sun. He walked over and knelt to pick it up.

  “Either you didn’t hear me or you’re ignoring me.” Mateo approached just as Ty pulled a large gold-and-red-beaded star out from under the back of a melted metal chair. Somehow it had come through the fire unscathed. There wasn’t a mark on it. He held it up. “Looks like there was one survivor.”

  Mateo stopped abruptly. “Holy smokes. You found it. I can’t believe you found it.” He said it like Ty had just unearthed the Holy Grail.

  Ty looked it over again. “It’s just a star.” An old, beaded star that looked like it belonged on top of a Christmas tree.

  “That’s not just a star.” Mateo carefully took it out of his hands and inspected it. “It belonged to Everly’s grandma. It was the one thing in the café that we couldn’t replace. You have no idea how much this’ll mean to her.”

  “Really?” The day suddenly seemed warmer. “Glad I could help.”

  “Yeah. This is gonna be the perfect Christmas gift for her.” Mateo found one of the towels they’d brought with them and carefully wrapped up the star. “Her grandma used to tell her the star granted Christmas wishes.” He shot Ty a grin. “Anything you want to wish for this year?”

  There were plenty of things Ty would have liked to wish his way out of—spending the holidays with his brother, complicating his casual arrangement with Darla by faking an engagement—but he simply grinned back. “Sure. I’ve got a wish. Please let the women in charge of this calendar come to their senses and let us wear actual clothes.”

  Mateo laughed. “Amen to that.”

  * * *

  She couldn’t wear the red heels…could she? Should she?

  Before making a final decision, Darla carefully examined the shoes one more time. They were one of her favorite pairs—three inches high with spiraling straps all the way down the ankle and across the foot.

  No. She definitely couldn’t wear them. Those shoes meant business. They begged for a hot night of uncomplicated fun, but for some reason her impending date with Ty had started to feel very complicated. They were supposed to make an appearance at the town cookie-decorating party and then go out to dinner where Ty would pop the question in a very public proposal. But would they really look like a couple? What would they have to do to sell their relationship to everyone? The whole thing had started to unnerve her.

  On the bright side, she’d been more motivated to focus her energy entirely on the Cowboy Christmas Festival. For the last week, she’d thrown herself deep into planning. The events were already scheduled and staffed, and the marketing materials should arrive any day. Now she would have nothing to focus on except for Ty and their alleged engagement. She would simply have to handle it like another project. Oh! Maybe she could make spreadsheets with facts about each of them so they could study and make the ruse even more convincing.

  Feeling better at the thought of spreadsheets, she tossed the red heels back into her closet and scrutinized the other shoes she’d laid out beside her bed. There were the silvery booties, fun but a bit more conservative. Or the leopard print wedges with exactly the right amount of sass. Or maybe she should go with the more sensible black pumps with only a hint of sparkle. Any of the above would be a perfect compliment to her little black dress, but she wasn’t sure exactly what message she wanted to send to Ty.

  Make sure to dress up so we can go out to dinner after the cookies, he’d texted an hour before. For some reason it had put her on edge. She and Ty had never been on a real date. Heck, she hadn’t been on a real date with anyone since…

  Her empty stomach clenched. After their last grief group meeting her stomach had done the clenchy thing a lot. Like anxiety had threaded itself into the fibers of her muscles, tying them up in knots.

  The ten-year anniversary is the hardest…

  Nope. She couldn’t think about Gray. Couldn’t think about how he’d sneak her away in the broom closet of the restaurant where they worked to steal a kiss. Couldn’t remember how he used to surprise her with reservations at all the best restaurants in town. Couldn’t think about how much she’d loved getting dressed up for him—the way his entire face would break out into a grin when she’d walk out of their bedroom, and how he’d tease her that he’d changed his mind about dinner and wanted to take her to bed instead. She’d laugh and put an extra sway in her hips as she gathered her purse and coat just to torture him.

  “Definitely the sensible black pumps.” Tearing herself out of the memory, Darla reached for the shoes and shoved them onto her feet. Rationality. That was what she’d hold on to in this whole charade with Ty. She would be sensible about keeping the boundaries they’d always managed to maintain, even as they tried to convince the rest of the town and his family they were in love.

  Those knots in her stomach pulled tighter, so she marched straight into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and quickly popped two Tums. “Get ahold of yourself,” she muttered. It wasn’t even a real date. It was a fake date. An acting gig, if you will, and she’d gotten good at acting over the years. This would be nothing.

  Checking her makeup one more time, she added a fresh coat of red lipstick—something she never left the house without—and raised her shoulders, taking one last glance in the mirror. Over the years, she’d made sure she looked nothing like Gray’s wife. Back then, she’d always worn her dark hair long and in waves. The year after he passed away, she’d cut it all off—wearing it in a pixie style before growing it out to be more shoulder-length this past year. She had more wrinkles now—the start of crow’s-feet lining her eyes, and delicate creases bordering the corners of her mouth—but when she looked hard enough, she still saw the happy-go-lucky girl in her twenties who’d put all her faith in love only to have it ripped away.

  The doorbell rang, earning a curse word she used only on special occasions. Ty was early. What kind of man showed up for a date early she wondered, cruising down the hallway of her small bungalow before crossing the living room and throwing open the door. “I thought we said—”

  The package delivery guy’s confused expression cut her off. “Excuse me?”

  “Never mind.” Darla smiled at him. “I thought you were someone else.” She quickly took the package from his hands and signed the electronic device he held out before bidding him a quick goodbye and happy holidays, even though Christmas was still three weeks away.

  As soon as she closed the door, she glanced at the address on the box. It was from Nora Michaels, her mother-in-law. That incomprehensible mix of joy and pain washed over her at the sight of Nora’s scrawled writing. She’d always loved the woman—in some ways Nora had been more of a mother to her than her own mom. After Gray had died, they’d stayed in close touch, and Darla still saw Nora and Larry a few times a year when she’d make trips down to Denver.

  Checking the time, Darla carted the package into the kitchen and quickly ripped it open. In addition to several festively wrapped presents, there was a large manila envelope. Smoothing out the creases, she parked herself on a stool at the kitchen island and read Nora’s note, which was scrawled on the outside.

  Dearest Darla,

  Happy Christmas! I know the package is early this year, but I wanted to send it as soon as possible. By the time you get it, Larry and I will be on our cruise around the Hawaiian islands, and I didn’t want to wait. There’s something else included this year. Something I promised Gray I would give to you when ten years had passed…

  Something from Gray? Those knots in her stomach turned sharp, cutting into her. Nearly breathless, Darla swallowed the dread that had risen into her throat and continued reading.

  I debated about sending this to you. I know you’ve done your best to move on. We’ve all done our best. But he made me promise I would give this to you, and he specifically asked me to wait ten years. I haven’t read it, but I know how important it was to him. So here it is. I’m so sorry if this causes yo
u pain. That is not my intention, and I know it wasn’t his either. He loved you so much. And we love you too. Remember that always. As soon as we return from our trip, we’ll come up for a visit.

  Much love,

  Nora

  The words blurred into thick black smudges. Ten years. It had been ten years since she’d spoken to Gray. And now he had a message for her? The envelope shook in her hands, but somehow she managed to open it and pull out a letter written in his handwriting. Oh, that blocky, messy handwriting…

  Tears flashed a searing heat across her eyes. Darla furiously blinked them back and held her breath so the wave of pain wouldn’t drag her under. She stared at the words, written by her beloved husband’s hand.

  DD,

  God, I love you. More than anything. I hope you know that. I hope I showed you that. I didn’t want to leave. I would’ve given anything to stay with you, to build the future we dreamed about. But I know I’m running out of time. This is so much harder to write than I thought it would be. But I have to write this because I know you. I know who you were before you let me in—before you let me love you, and I’m worried about you.

  Tears flowed steadily down her cheeks and dripped onto the collar of her dress. She couldn’t move to wipe them away. Her hands were too stiff with grief. A cold hollowness shivered through her, but she forced herself to keep reading.

  Before we met, I know you didn’t have anyone. To love you. To protect you. To believe in you. Those first few dates we went on…you were so closed off. But then you started to trust me. You started to open up. And I saw the most beautiful heart I’ve ever known. It kills me to think that me leaving you has broken your heart. It kills me to think that you won’t let yourself love someone else. That worry keeps me awake at night. I keep wondering what your life will look like in ten years. I want it to be full. And beautiful. And meaningful. Maybe it is. Maybe you have everything you’ve dreamed of. I hope so. But if not, DD, I just wanted to remind you…you can’t keep that big beautiful heart hidden away, my love. I was so lucky to have you. To know you. To love you. And I want you to love someone else. To love deeply and selflessly and fully the way you loved me. Even more than that, I want you to let yourself be loved again. I know how strong you are—you proved that often. You’ve taken care of me. These last few months, you’ve taken on the weight of the world and you’ve done it all with such grace. If you haven’t found it yet, promise me you’ll look for love. It will give you life and purpose and strength when yours starts to run out. You have faithfully given me all of those things. Be brave enough to give them again. To give someone your heart. Please my love. Do it for me.