Montana Christmas Magic

by Casey Dawes

  “But what about us, Logan? Where are we going? You keep hinting that there’s something more, wanting me to go back to New York with you, but what happens if I hate it there?”

  “You mean if being with me isn’t enough?” He tried to keep his voice level. She was actually considering his idea.

  “I guess.” She sounded miserable.

  “Then we see where we are. Maybe we can find a compromise—a place where I can get good airport service to go to meets and where there’s enough population for me to make a living coaching. Like Denver. It’s got mountains.” He leaned forward. “If that happens, we’ll have to talk about it. If we care for each other at all at that point, we’ll work it out.”

  His omission of the word love didn’t escape him.

  Would he ever be able to say that word aloud?

  “Would you consider coming back here?” she asked.

  He’d hoped she wouldn’t go there.

  “I don’t think so—except for vacations at the ranch sometimes. It’s a beautiful state but remote. And even the big population areas aren’t that big.”

  She nodded, but her expression wasn’t as joyful as it had been.

  “Dance?” Zach said, holding his hand out to Julie.

  “Sure,” she said, almost leaping from her chair.

  “Thank you,” Sue Anne said. “I keep forgetting how much energy that man has.” She sat in the chair Julie had vacated. “You sure have Julie twisted in knots.”

  “You sure know how to come directly to the point.” Was everyone at this wedding going to check into his motives?

  “I’m worried. Julie puts others’ needs in front of her own. She’s helped me long after she should have, and I’ve seen her do it with our roommates and her family. She’s got a good heart, and it doesn’t need to be trashed.”

  “Who says I’m going to do that? I care for her. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”

  “Do you think trying to get her to New York is going to help her? She’s a small-town girl—from the plains. She barely makes it in Missoula.”

  “Look, I think she can adapt. And I’ll keep the ranch so we can have a foothold in this state.” A state he was really getting tired of people defending. “It will be a good opportunity for her—a chance to learn new techniques and find new venues for her work. She’s a good, solid artist, but this could give her career a real boost.”

  “What about your relationship?”

  Boy, these people didn’t give up.

  “That’s part of what we need to discover. I want to be with her, and I want us to be on solid ground before we make a commitment. Like you said, Montana’s a long way from the city. If she’s not comfortable there, we’ll see what to do next.” He stopped. Whatever he and Julie did—if she agreed to come with him—was up to them alone.

  “Just treat ...”

  “I know ... just treat her well. I’ve already received that message.” He looked pointedly at Tony.

  Sue Anne raised one perfect eyebrow before she stood.

  “Glad to know you get the picture.”

  “If anything goes wrong, half the state will be after me with guns blazing,” he said without a smile.

  “Something like that.”

  The DJ slipped on a slow song again.

  “I need to find my husband,” she said.

  “Sounds like a good idea.” They walked toward Julie and Zach, who were returning from the dance floor, and Logan took Julie in his arms and spun away from them, practicing the steps that had become second nature after two solid years of lessons.

  He needed to get a little of his own back.

  “Wow, you can actually dance,” Julie said.

  “Of course. It’s expected where I come from.”

  “We dance, too. It’s just different.”

  “I’ll tell you what. You learn my style, and I’ll learn yours. Deal?”

  “Deal.” She lightly kissed his lips.

  He was one step closer to getting her to come home with him.

  His heart lifted, and he put the joy into expertly spinning her around the dance floor. Fortunately, she relaxed into his arms and floated easily, one more piece of evidence of her building trust.

  “Come to New York with me,” he whispered.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I need an answer.” He twirled her.

  “I’ll give you one soon.”

  “When?”

  “When I give you the painting.”

  The answer had to be yes.

  Chapter 17

  Julie heard the clang of metal when she stepped out of the car at the ranch, her stomach in knots. Pulling the wrapped package from the back seat, she walked toward the exercise cabin. Logan was sweating while using some contraption she didn’t understand, his back to her.

  His t-shirt and shorts gave her lots of opportunities to check out his deep tan and muscles. While he didn’t have the ropy physique of a dedicated weight lifter, both his arms and legs were well defined. She saw no residual effects from the accident—in fact, she hadn’t seen his cane in weeks.

  How fit was he? If he were able, would he want to return to pro tennis?

  What then? She didn’t intend to be in a relationship as a tennis widow, and traveling all the time didn’t appeal.

  You’re fussing too much, girl. Her dad’s voice gave its familiar advice. Just let go and let God do His thing.

  Wouldn’t it be nice to have her father’s faith?

  “Oh, hi there.” Logan spotted her when he finished.

  “Hi, yourself.” She tried not to stare, but his workout clothes didn’t leave much to her imagination. She grabbed her package to distract herself.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  He glanced down at himself. “Um, let’s go back to the house so I can wash up a bit and not sweat all over your art. That is what it is, isn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  “Thank you.” He went to hug her but once again looked at his clothes and stopped.

  “After I clean up, I’ll show you what I’ve got for Zach and Sue Anne.”

  “You didn’t have to do that. I gave them a quilt from both of us.”

  “I wanted to—it gave me a chance to stretch my woodworking muscles.”

  The way he said it—all eager and happy—made her anxious to see it.

  “I’ll be back. You know where the drinks are.”

  He disappeared into the back.

  A long drink of water sounded good. In the kitchen, she could hear when the shower went on and tried not to think about how he looked with water sluicing over his skin. She wasn’t naive—she knew what men looked like—just not this particular specimen.

  He was quick and soon out in his customary jeans and t-shirt.

  “So let’s see.” He untied the string that held the brown paper around the painting. A frame hadn’t been in her budget.

  He stared at the image of mountains and prairie before walking out the back door and holding up the painting against the mountains.

  “Damn,” he said. “You are really, really good. It’s what I see, but it’s so much more. You captured the essence of sitting here with a cold beer in my hand watching the sunset.”

  “I wanted to add Hobo and Wild Rose,” she said. “But I couldn’t make them come out right. Something I need to practice more.”

  “You’ll get there.” He laid the canvas on the picnic table and took her into his arms. “Thank you,” he whispered into her ear. “It means the world to me. I’ll treasure it forever, no matter what happens.”

  Tears came to her eyes. He respected her work ... and her.

  More than respect, she knew, and she wasn’t surprised when the embrace led to a kiss. His freshly shaved jaw was smooth to her touch, and his lips firm against hers. His tongue, tasting of early morning coffee, slipped into her mouth, rousing the heat at her core. She pulled him closer to her, allowing her body to mold to his. Exercise had made his
muscles hard.

  They weren’t the only things that pressed against her.

  God, she wanted him, to discover how he felt inside her. Her hips tilted forward, and he slid his hand on her butt.

  Moans escaped her. Her nipples tightened and tingled.

  If they continued, she’d go all the way. Now was the time to stop.

  Her body protested as she broke away from his lips.

  “I ... I can’t. I want ...” She chewed on her lower lip and looked at the ground. “I want it—you—but not yet. Can you understand at all?” She allowed her gaze to meet his.

  He traced her jawline with his thumb.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll get there when you’re ready.”

  Her heart expanded. “Let’s go see the gift,” he said and gave her a light kiss.

  If he’d been amazed by her painting, she was blown away by the small, round entry table he’d made. The grain on the tabletop gleamed under several coats of varnish and polish. The legs had a gentle curve outward before returning gracefully to smooth knobs at the base.

  “It’s maple,” Logan said, pride filling his voice.

  “It’s beautiful. They will love it.”

  “When we went bowling that time, Zach mentioned he needed a place to stick his keys in the entryway of the new apartment.”

  “Oh. Speaking of that, Zach and Sue Anne want to go to the game with us—do a tailgate party. They have season tickets. We wouldn’t sit with them during the game, but it would be fun to get together before and after.”

  “Sounds good. I can give them the table then. First game is next week, isn’t it?”

  “Yep.” September had come way too fast.

  Hobo dashed into the yard, barking, and Logan quickly shut the door behind him.

  “Don’t need his fur all over the place,” he said, then stared down the driveway where a plume of dust came closer. He squinted for a second.

  “Shit,” he said. “Wait here, I need to get something.”

  It took Julie a few more seconds to make out the blue pickup. Their nemesis from Vegas was back. From the way she was driving, it looked like she’d received the news about the restraining order Logan had filed.

  He returned with a sheaf of papers ... and a rifle.

  “I didn’t know you shot,” she said.

  “I don’t. It’s empty.”

  She studied him. “Yeah, I can see that. Give it to me. She’ll take one look at you and know you’re bluffing.”

  “Montana women.” He shook his head, but handed it to her.

  She held it loosely in her hand until the vehicle stopped, then raised it to her shoulder.

  Mattie started to get out of her truck but spotted the rifle, slid back in, and rolled down the window.

  “Get off my land,” Logan said, the gravel in his voice matching the sheriff in the Longmire series.

  She worked hard to keep from laughing.

  “You can’t do that! The horse is mine!”

  “Get a lawyer and prove it, or go back to whatever casino you crawled out of. Leave.”

  “Or what? You’ll let Annie Oakley over there plunk me? I know you have a restraining order, but that’s not worth the paper it’s printed on. Everyone knows that!”

  Julie sighted down the barrel, keeping her actions steady.

  Mattie drew back in the cab.

  “Could be,” Logan said. “It’d be best if you leave.”

  Mattie looked between Julie and Logan a few times.

  Hobo let out a growl and stepped closer.

  “You’ll be sorry!” Mattie raised her window, carelessly reversed, tossing dirt and small stones at them, and took off down the drive.

  Julie kept her stance until the pickup was out of sight. Then she lowered the rifle, business end down. Loaded or no, she never pointed a weapon at anyone unless she intended to use it.

  Good thing there weren’t any bullets. She would have shot the woman in her skinny little ass if she’d dared to come out of the truck.

  Then she looked at Logan, standing with his hands on his hips, still staring at the drive.

  “Who were you channeling?” she asked with a laugh. “You sounded like a bad John Wayne movie.”

  “You making fun of me, pilgrim?” Logan crossed to her with a bowlegged gait. “We ran the varmint off, didn’t we?”

  She laughed even harder ... right up to the moment he reached her and pulled her tight and planted a kiss on her lips. There was an underlying playfulness she hadn’t felt before, but that lasted only a few moments. The heat went on, and her tongue entwined with his as they reignited the passion that had begun on his deck.

  After a few moments, he pushed back.

  “I’m sorry. I just want you so badly. I know you aren’t ready, but I hope you will be. Please, Julie, come to New York. Give us a chance.”

  She took a big gulp of air.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 18

  It took a while for Logan to find a parking place even remotely close to Washington Stadium. The first home game of the season had the entire town of Missoula on holiday. As he made his way to the area set aside for tailgating, he encountered smiles, waves, and Griz attire of all types on all sizes of bodies, from babies in carriers snuggled in front of their moms to older fans who obviously enjoyed their local brew very much.

  The spirit, along with the crisp fall day, made him feel euphoric, as if everything in his life was going to work out. The five months he’d spent on exercise, ranch repairs, and hikes in the area had certainly improved his strength and stamina. Would it be possible to go back on the circuit?

  That world was competitive and pressured. He’d never have time to enjoy a local college football game with friends—heck, no one did something so plebian in New York. It was all about big teams and huge stadiums.

  Nor would he be able to spend hours sanding and polishing an object he’d created, bringing out wood’s highlights as he worked. His career would prevent that.

  Julie wouldn’t like it. Now that she’d agreed to come to the city, he couldn’t plan his future without consulting her.

  There was nothing wrong with the life he’d had before. But did he still want it?

  He spotted the small group and waved. Julie broke into a big grin and waved back. Resisting an urge to break into a trot, pick her up in his arms, and swing her around, he threaded his way through clumps of other happy fans.

  As it was, he couldn’t resist giving her a quick hug and kiss before greeting the newly married couple.

  “How was the honeymoon?” he asked Zach with a wink.

  “As perfect as it gets.” Zach’s arm pulled Sue Anne close, and the couple indulged in a knowing glance.

  Logan smiled at the couple, then shifted his gaze to Julie. Soon they’d be able to share the same intimacy.

  She blushed.

  Good thing Zach and Sue Anne were so engrossed in each other they missed the exchange.

  “I made something for you,” he said. “You’ll have to remember to get it from the SUV after the game.”

  “You didn’t have to ...” Sue Anne protested.

  “I wanted to.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Julie said. “You’re going to love it!”

  “Well, I can’t wait then,” Zach said. “Thanks, man.” He clapped Logan on the shoulder.

  They dug into the food that was spread out on the makeshift table. Zach handed him a bottle of beer.

  “I can’t say I’ve ever warmed up to this name,” he said, looking at the Moose Drool label.

  “How’s the painting going?” Sue Anne asked Julie.

  “Good! I seem to be getting into a rhythm. I’m not really aware how much time passes, and I accomplish a lot.”

  He nodded. He’d experienced the same thing while playing tennis—being in the zone where everything seemed to come effortlessly and naturally. “I think many creative people call that being in the flow.”

  “I think I’ve heard
that term. It’s a good one.” Her smile thanked him for understanding.

  “Did you see the painting Julie made for me?” he asked Sue Anne.

  “She’s quite talented, isn’t she? I’m going to be sorry to lose her as a partner, but it’s good to see her doing what she loves.”

  Once again he was hit by the solid friendships that seemed to exist in this rural life.

  Sue Anne and Julie chattered about the customers who’d come into the store, Zach told stories of amusing and scary events at the airport, and he was able to contribute Hobo’s adventures and the doings of small-town P-burg.

  He was starting to think like a local.

  But in less than thirty days, he’d be gone.

  They parted from the other couple at the gates, and soon he was swept up in the exhilaration of the Griz fans. He took Julie’s hand and led them to their seats. Soon they were involved in the game—cheering, moaning, and shouting in response to the action on the field. They spotted Zach and Sue Anne and waved frantically before the other couple saw them.

  He spent a lot of time with Julie’s hand in his and joy in his heart.

  During halftime, they stayed by their seats, enjoying the coffee he’d brought for them in thermoses.

  “Have you ever hiked to the M?” he asked, pointing to the huge letter on Mount Sentinel.

  “Of course.” She laughed. “It’s a rite of passage at the university. They won’t let you graduate until you’ve done it!” Her second laugh let him know she was kidding.

  Still, it was a goal. He stared at the tiny figures moving up the zigzag trail. The next time he came to Montana, they’d have to do it together.

  The next time.

  She was coming to New York. He’d make it work, and that meant coming back here for her.

  “Okay. When we come back in the spring, I’ll race you to the top.”

  “You’re on.”

  They high-fived.

  They were both on their feet when the game ended—Grizzlies ahead by six points. He pulled her close in a hug and sucked in the entire experience—the day, the girl, and the cheering crowds around him.

  Contentment washed over him.

  He took her hand once again, and they made their way from the stadium, chattering about different moves the team had made and moaning about the missed extra point, although they disagreed on what had caused the ball to go wide.