A Cowboy for Christmas
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“Letting those fears push me away from someone who could change my life. Someone who could help me heal. Someone who needs me to love them too.” Josie reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s not up to you to decide what Ty deserves. He can do that all by himself,” she said gently. “What you have to decide is what you deserve. It’s been ten years since you lost your husband, and look how far you’ve come.”
A familiar pain wedged itself tightly beneath her ribs. She had come far, but it had cost so much.
“The question you have to ask yourself is: What do you want your life to look like in another ten years?” Josie went on. “Or even in five? Do you want everything to be exactly the same as it is now? Will this always be enough for you?” She looked steadily into Darla’s eyes. “Or is there something better waiting on the other side of your fear?”
Something better. Yes, she wanted something better. Of course she did. But…“I don’t know how to get past it.” Those fears were shackled around her ankles, and she wasn’t strong enough to drag them forward. Keeping everything the same meant keeping control. It was predictable and safe.
“Then I suggest you figure that out first.” Josie carefully selected another truffle and savored it before she spoke again. “Stop focusing on what Ty needs and focus on finding your freedom from the fear that’s holding you back.”
Freedom. That word was like a dust mote floating in front of her. Darla wanted so badly to grab it, but how could she hold on? True freedom didn’t seem possible. “Have you found yours?” she asked hopefully.
Josie took her time with the question. “I’ve found moments,” she finally said. “Glimpses. It’s not something that happens all at once, honey. It’s something you move toward one step at a time, one day at a time. The key is to quit pretending the fear isn’t there.”
“That might be the hardest part.” If she stopped pretending, people would see every wound she’d so carefully guarded. It would mean admitting she wasn’t as strong as she wanted everyone to believe. It would mean admitting she did need people. She did need love. It would mean putting her heart out there, exposed and raw.
“Hard?” Josie chuckled. “Acknowledging that fear is excruciating. But it’s also worth it. After a while you’ll notice the fear is a little further behind you. Still there maybe, but not holding on to you as tightly as it did before. And then you’re more open to new possibilities.” Her sassy smirk returned. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll even be open to a new possibility wrapped up in a cowboy package.”
Chapter Twelve
So far so good.
Darla dropped her napkin onto her empty plate and sat back in the chair. During her dinner with Ty’s parents, she’d made it a point to tell as much truth as possible—mainly answering questions about the wine bar and being a business owner. That seemed to be a safe topic of conversation, and they were very interested in how she ran her business. She asked them questions too—about the ranch and about Montana, and she’d actually enjoyed hearing the answers. Even Ty had seemed to enjoy himself, likely because his brother was out at the Tumble Inn for the evening. When Rhett had heard it was ladies’ night, he’d bailed on dinner with them.
At first when Ty’s mom insisted Darla join them for dinner, she’d tried to decline, but the woman hadn’t given her a choice. And she’d felt bad for avoiding them all—especially Ty—for the better part of two days. After her talk with Josie, she’d needed some space, some time. She’d forced herself to read Gray’s letter again, to appreciate his reason for writing it, even though it brought her pain. She hadn’t figured anything out—like Josie had said, it didn’t happen all at once—but she so desperately wanted to be open to something new.
Darla sipped the last of her water and set down her glass. “What a delicious meal, Maureen.” She’d been so hungry, she’d eaten two helpings of everything.
Ty’s mom had seemed to sparkle with happiness the whole evening. “Why, thank you. That roast is an old family recipe that my grandma passed down to my mom. And don’t you worry. Before the wedding, I’ll pass it down to you too.”
Tension worked its way back into her neck. The wedding. If only they could go on avoiding that topic. “That would be great.” Hopefully no one else noticed the hollow ring in her voice. They’d managed to make it through the entire dinner without one mention of the wedding, but now she braced herself for the questions and happy exclamations about how excited they were for the big day.
“Have you thought about keeping your maiden name and hyphenating?” Maureen asked. “That’s all the rage these days. Darla Michaels-Forrester has a nice ring to it.”
It did, but that wasn’t her maiden name. She didn’t want to talk about her past, but it would also likely curb the wedding talk. At least for a while. “Actually, Griffin was my maiden name. Michaels was my first husband’s last name.” And it had been her identity. When she’d taken Gray’s last name, she’d become part of a real family for the first time.
“Oh.” Maureen shared an unreadable look with her husband. “I guess I didn’t realize you’d been married before.”
“Yeah.” Ty sat up a little straighter in a protective stance. “This will be her second marriage. The other one was a long time ago.” Darla knew he was trying to rescue her, to gloss over her first marriage so she didn’t have to talk about it, but she wanted to tell them. Gray still deserved to be known. And wasn’t this part of what Josie said she had to do? Acknowledge the pain?
“I got married in my twenties,” she explained. “But my husband passed away. Ten years ago.”
“What?” Ty’s mom gasped the same way everyone else did when they found out she was a widow. “Oh sweetheart…”
“You shoulda said something.” His father scolded Ty with a deep frown.
“It’s okay.” She gave them both a practiced smile. “I don’t mind talking about it.” She didn’t want to mind. “He died of cancer. A brain tumor.”
Maureen covered her mouth with her hand. “That’s just plain awful,” she said, getting all teary. “You brave, brave girl.”
She wasn’t brave. She was simply hiding. “It was a long time ago, and yes it was very difficult, but I’ve put it behind me.” The lie seemed to catch in her throat, leaving a bad taste. This was exactly what Josie had been talking about. She wouldn’t find freedom until she could be honest. Why was it so hard for her to admit the loss still tormented her?
Ty angled his face to hers, studying her as though trying to determine what was true and what was part of their lie. She wasn’t sure she knew anymore.
“Well I’m so happy you two have found each other, then.” Ty’s mom held her husband’s hand. “There’s nothing better in this world than having someone to share your life with. Even if they drive you nuts sometimes.”
Darla nodded, a growing heaviness in her heart weighting her to the chair. She knew the truth of Maureen’s words because she lived with a hole in her life, a missing piece. And God, it was so lonely sometimes.
“We feel pretty lucky.” Ty eased his arm around her, stroking his fingers across the back of her hand. It was a tender gesture, meant to comfort, and she leaned in to him, letting his touch temporarily soothe the wound like she’d done so many times before.
“Oh, goodness.” Maureen dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. “I feel terrible. Here we are taking up all of Ty’s time lately, and you two have hardly even been able to talk.” She dropped her napkin onto the table and started to stack the plates. “You should stay tonight. Then you two can have a nice romantic evening and we’ll make ourselves scarce.”
The candles flickering in the center of the table suddenly seemed to put off more heat. She probably shouldn’t stay with Ty, given that it was so easy for her to end up in bed with the man. Things were already confusing enough. “That’s okay. We’re both busy preparing for the festival. And I’ve been pretty tired.” Bone-weary tired would be a more accurate explanation. She really needed to make that doctor’s a
ppointment as soon as the holidays were over.
“Well, I insist you stay tonight.” Maureen rose from the table holding the stack of plates. “You poor dear. Doing all of this for other people at such a busy time of year. You need a night off. Robert and I were going to call it an early night anyway, so you two can snuggle up on the couch and watch a movie or something.”
They were going to bed already? Darla glanced at the clock. It was all of eight. “You two don’t have to do that. I really should go home.” Alone. “I haven’t been feeling all that well lately.” When she’d gotten to Ty’s house, she’d been starving, but after eating all of that rich food, nausea had started to set in again.
“All the more reason for you to stay.” Maureen brought the dishes to the sink and Robert quickly got up to help her.
“You shouldn’t be alone when you’re not feeling good. Right, Ty?” his father said in a leading question.
“Right.” Ty seemed to watch her face for a reaction. “Yeah. Why don’t you stay? I’ll make you some tea and we can watch that other Christmas movie you’ve been wanting to see.” He said it so smoothly, like they snuggled up on the couch for Hallmark Christmas movie marathons on a regular basis.
“Wonderful idea!” Maureen turned on the water and started to rinse the plates. “I’ll finish up these dishes and then we’ll be out of your hair.”
Another protest teetered on the tip of her tongue, but she let it die. What would be the harm in staying one night? If she went home, she’d only sit there and stew about everything—details for the festival, Josie’s haunting question. What if there’s something better waiting on the other side of your fear? And she did love that tea Ty made. “Okay. Sure. I think I’ll stay.” She gauged Ty’s expression.
He smiled softly at her and she smiled back. Maybe for one night she would try not to overanalyze everything. She would acknowledge she was afraid, and she would stay anyway. How else would she ever move forward? Darla rose from her chair and joined Ty’s parents in the kitchen. “I can help with the dishes.”
“Absolutely not.” Robert steered her toward the living room. “You’ve had a full day. Go get comfortable on the couch. Let us take care of the mess.”
“He’s right.” Ty appeared next to her and rubbed her shoulder. “You get comfortable and I’ll make your tea.”
“Are you sure?” She wasn’t used to letting everyone else take care of her. That definitely didn’t feel comfortable. “I don’t mind—”
“We’ve got it.” Ty took her hand and led her to the couch. “Relax.”
“Right. Relax.” She could do that. While Ty and his parents worked in the kitchen, Darla settled herself on the couch. Surprisingly, Ty had a nice place for a bachelor cowboy. The house wasn’t large, but everything had been updated. A beautiful stone fireplace provided the focal point of the room, almost taking up one entire wall. Of course, he had a gigantic television mounted above the mantel, but it wasn’t overly obnoxious. The leather couch and matching chairs were oversized and cushy, perfect for sinking into. And he even had a wall of bookshelves filled with actual books instead of trinkets or memorabilia. Darla smiled as she admired the Christmas decorations he’d added. She never would’ve pegged him as the nostalgic type, but he’d definitely put some effort into making the place look festive. In the corner sat a beautiful blue spruce covered in colorful lights but no ornaments. And garlands wound around the stair banisters that led to the second floor. Those small touches added such a cozy feel to the space.
In the kitchen, Robert and Maureen worked swiftly, as though they couldn’t wait to give her and Ty some alone time.
“Oh, I’m so happy you’ll be staying!” Ty’s mom called. “I’ll make us all a big breakfast in the morning. If you thought that roast was good, wait until you try my grandmother’s quiche. She was half French, you know.”
“I can’t wait.” Breakfast happened to be her favorite meal of the day. “But tomorrow I’m doing the dishes.” She couldn’t let them wait on her hand and foot, though she had to admit it was kind of nice.
“Here’s your tea.” Ty set it on a coaster on the coffee table in front of her. “Need anything else?”
“No. Thanks. I’m fine.” She moved over so he could join her on the couch. When he sat beside her, she leaned her shoulder in to his, letting his solid weight hold her up.
Ty tucked her in under his arm. “What was that movie you wanted to watch again?”
They hadn’t discussed any of her other favorite Christmas movies, so she went with one of her tried-and-true selections. “Miracle on 34th Street.” It had been one of her favorites since she was a little girl. She and Gray used to watch it every Christmas Eve. But now she was with Ty. On his couch, at his house, spending the night. Her heart skipped a couple of beats, and once again she couldn’t tell if it was anticipation or panic.
Darla lifted the mug of tea to her lips and sipped. The warm, calming aroma of ginger seemed to envelop her senses. Spicy with a hint of sweetness and the perfect temperature to soothe.
“How is it?” Ty picked up the remote and searched for the movie.
“It’s good.” Perfect. Exactly what she needed. She took another sip and set down the mug.
Maureen traipsed into the room, followed by Robert. “Just one more picture of you two lovebirds before we turn in.” She unearthed her phone from her large purse, which was hanging by the door. “Scooch over now,” Ty’s mom instructed. “A little bit closer, you two.”
Darla wasn’t sure they could get closer, but Ty seemed to try. He smelled good. She could only get hints above the scent of ginger, but it was that woodsy scent, clean and virile. And…it actually felt comfy to lean against him, warm and safe. Or maybe that was the calming effects of the ginger tea.
“Say cheese.” His mom snapped pictures, the flash making Darla see spots.
“Okay, Ma. I think you captured the perfect shot.” Ty kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and leaned back into the cushions, but he kept his arm around her. Sitting there like that, nestled in against him, his shoulder the perfect height to rest her head on, Darla realized how sleepy she was.
“Okay, okay.” His mom slipped the camera back into her purse. “You two make such a beautiful couple, that’s all. But we’re going to bed now. Not to worry. You’ll have the whole downstairs to yourself. We can’t hear anything up in that guest room.” She winked and Darla felt Ty’s groan.
“Good night,” he mumbled, giving his parents a disgruntled look.
“’Night.” His father obviously took the hint and all but dragged Maureen up the staircase.
As soon as they’d disappeared, Ty brought his arm back to his side and scooted away from her. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay.” A tinge of disappointment suddenly made her feel chilled. “I don’t mind your parents. I think they’re great, actually.” Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say given his issues with them, but she couldn’t help herself. “I wish my parents were that interested in my life.”
“They’re not interested in my life.” His tone was too quiet to sound bitter. “They’re interested in you. In the potential for grandchildren. But they haven’t taken an interest in my life since I was a kid. It’s like when I left home they stopped caring.”
“Have you ever asked them why they didn’t come to watch you compete?” Maureen might not talk about Ty’s riding career, but she obviously loved her son.
“I didn’t have to ask.” Ty clicked Play on the movie, but it didn’t distract Darla. She continued staring at him expectantly.
He sighed as though resigned that she wasn’t about to give up on this line of questioning. “They always went to Rhett’s games instead,” he muttered. “That’s my answer. They’d rather see him play than watch me compete.”
“Maybe there’s another reason,” Darla suggested. “Maybe they couldn’t afford to travel—”
“It’s not money.” Ty stared at the television, but she could still
see the hurt in his eyes. “I paid for their tickets. That’s how much I wanted them there. I was willing to do whatever it took to remove the barriers so they’d come. And they didn’t. They haven’t. Ever. This weekend wouldn’t have been the first time they saw me ride, and I’ve been competing for fifteen years.”
“That’s a lot of competitions for them to miss,” she acknowledged. Between that and the fact that they never seemed to talk about his riding, she could understand why he felt like they didn’t care. She knew what that was like. She covered his hand with hers. “I like watching you compete.”
He paused the movie and turned his face to hers. “Really?”
“Yeah. You’re different than a lot of those other cowboys.”
“Different.” He didn’t seem to know if that was good or bad.
“You’re really good,” she clarified. “Great technical ability, solid strength, but you’re not showy about it. You’re confident.” She’d spent plenty of time studying the riders who came through town. “Your parents are really missing out not seeing you do something you love.”
“Thanks.” He looked down at her hand, which was still attached to his.
“Maybe you should talk to them about it,” she said softly. “Give them a chance to explain.”
“We don’t do that in my family. Talk about how we really feel.” Ty shrugged like it didn’t matter, but disappointment laced his voice. “We put our heads down and power through.”
“I get that.” Life was definitely easier that way. Ignoring feelings exactly like the ones that were stirring in the uncharted realms of her heart. Ignore them and they’d go away. But Ty’s eyes held her so intensely it made those feelings much harder to ignore. “Sometimes talking is overrated.”
“Yeah.” His hungry gaze lowered to her mouth. “Movies are overrated too. Don’t you think?”
Heat rolled through her. “Sometimes.”
“Remember that night in your kitchen?” His forehead rested against hers.
“Yes,” she whispered, anticipation flickering through her the same way it had then.