The Cowboy's Christmas Courtship

by Brenda Minton

  Peace. She looked to the front of the church where the wooden cross still hung on the wall. For a brief moment she closed her eyes and drew on a strength that came from within. She didn’t have family to turn to but she had God. She had a community that loved her.

  “Are you going to stand here all night?” Brandon sulked behind her.

  “No.” She moved on, walking through the sanctuary to the stairs.

  “I’m going to stay the night with Lance,” Brandon informed her as they headed down the stairs.

  “No, you’re not.” She took the dish from his hands. The friend he’d mentioned was off-limits. “You’re going to help me and then we’re going home. And you’re going to stay home. You’re grounded.”

  “Layla, you’re five feet tall. How are you gonna make me?” He towered over her. She knew he had a point. And it made her mad. In the past year he’d started challenging her, making things difficult. It had been easy when he was little. Now he needed a dad.

  Standing in the kitchen of the community center, they had an audience. He did that on purpose. He picked public places to argue because he thought she would give in.

  “Brandon, you’re staying home.”

  “Who’s going to stop me if I decide to leave?”

  “I guess I’ll make you.” She knew that voice.

  Gage stepped out of the shadows. He’d shaved and changed into new jeans and a button-up shirt. He’d left behind the shadow of growth on his chin. The dark stubble distracted her. He was talking again and Brandon looked a little cornered.

  “Brandon, if I have to, I’ll drive you home and I’ll make sure you stay there.”

  Brandon smirked. “Who gave you a suit of armor and a white horse?”

  Layla’s thoughts exactly. Brandon had probably heard her say that at some point. She’d repeated more than once that she didn’t need help. She could handle things. But lately it had been getting a lot harder. Losing her job had been the last straw.

  “I don’t need a suit of armor, jack...” Gage closed his mouth and then smiled across the kitchen at his mother, who had cleared her throat to stop him from going too far.

  “Well, I don’t need you to play daddy to me. I’m doing just fine.”

  Gage got close to her brother. “You’re going to serve turkey, smile and be polite to your sister. If not, we’ll call the police and have a talk with them about you coming home drunk.”

  Layla wanted to scream. Gage Cooper had been home for one day and suddenly he thought he had to ride to her rescue. She could do this. She’d been doing this for a long time. Her eyes filled with tears as she thought about how to take control of the situation.

  Angie Cooper appeared at her side, always warm and smiling, always generous. Layla wanted to sink into her arms, but she couldn’t let herself be comforted right now. It was too risky because she was too close to falling apart.

  “Let Gage do this.” Angie slipped an arm around Layla. “You need to take a deep breath and let people help.”

  Layla nodded, but she couldn’t speak. Her strength was a thin cord that was unraveling. Instead of objections she mumbled something like “thank you,” and then she allowed Angie Cooper to lead her back to the kitchen, where they searched for serving spoons and talked about the weather forecast.

  People were starting to file in. There were families who might not have had a Thanksgiving dinner and people from the community who wanted fellowship with neighbors, talk about the price of cattle and the drought, maybe catch up on other news.

  All around her, people were talking, smiling and laughing. Layla was trying to find a way to hold her life together and keep her brother from ruining his. She served her green bean casserole and kept an eye on Brandon, who had been given the job of serving drinks.

  She avoided looking at Gage. He’d found a kitchen stool to sit on while he served potatoes. From time to time he’d stand and stretch. Typical bull rider with a broken body and too much confidence.

  Once, he caught her staring. He winked and she knew she turned a few shades of red. She could feel the heat crawl from her neck to her face, and probably straight to her hairline. She turned back to the next person in line and served a spoonful of green beans, smiling as if everything was perfect. Wonderful.

  But Gage Cooper smiling at her was anything but perfect.

  When the meal ended and the kitchen was clean, Layla went in search of her brother. She found him upstairs helping Gage carry bags of trash to the Dumpster. The night was dark and cold. The stars were hidden by clouds and the weatherman had said something about snow flurries. It was early in the season for snow in Oklahoma.

  “Time to go.” She stood on the sidewalk as they tossed the bags into the receptacle.

  Gage turned to Brandon. “Get in my truck.”

  “Gage, I can do this.” Layla pulled her jacket tight against the wind and looked from him to her brother.

  “I know that.” Gage pointed to his truck, and Brandon hurried across the parking lot like an eager puppy. Layla felt the first bits of anger coming to life.

  “What in the world?” She watched Brandon climb in the passenger’s side of Gage’s truck.

  “He’s going to help me at the ranch tomorrow.”

  “Why?”

  “To keep him out of trouble.” Gage tilted his hat back and walked toward her. “Layla, I’m trying to help. Maybe show you that I’m sorry.”

  “So this is your way of making things right? You pretended to need help in chemistry.”

  “I did need help in chemistry.” He grinned that Cooper grin that went straight to a girl’s heart. Not hers, though. She knew better.

  “And now I’m just a charity case that makes you feel better about yourself?”

  “You aren’t charity,” he started. “But you’re right. I am trying to feel better about myself.”

  “Use someone else to soothe your guilty conscience.”

  He smiled again, and her heart ached. “There are plenty of people that I need to make amends to. I’ll get to them.”

  “As soon as you’re done with me?” She shook her head. “At least you’re honest.”

  “Yeah, trying to be.” His eyes softened, hazel-green and fringed with dark lashes. “You’re too good for me, Layla.”

  She thought about it for a minute. “You’re right. I am too good for you.”

  “Exactly. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m about done in. I’m going to drive your brother home, and I’ll pick him up bright and early tomorrow morning.”

  “I have to work at the feed store in the morning. You might have to wake him up.”

  “I can do that. And I’ll bring him home when you get off work.”

  She bit down on her bottom lip and stared up at him, wondering if this was another game he was playing, a game she didn’t have the rules for. He liked those games. She didn’t. At the same time, she really needed help with her brother. Hadn’t she whispered that prayer just hours earlier?

  Across the way lights came on in Jeremy and Beth Hightree’s home. The tree in the front window lit up, and a spotlight hit the manger in the yard. Christmas. It was a beautiful, wonderful time of hope and promise.

  “I’m not sure.” She looked from the Hightree’s decorated house back to Gage.

  “Layla, let me do this. The kid’s in trouble and you need help with him.”

  She didn’t want to admit it, but she did need help. She was worried about Brandon, about the guys he was hanging out with and the rumors about what they were doing. It had never been easy for her to accept help.

  The first few years she’d worried that if she struggled, they’d take her brother away. It became a habit, doing things on her own.

  “You can trust me.”

  She nodded and walked away, Gage’s words follow
ing her to her truck. She doubted that she could trust him, but for a few minutes she had the very break she’d been praying for.

  She would have to accept that it had been given to her by Gage Cooper. He was home, and she would have to face the past, and the way he’d hurt her all those years ago.

  Chapter Three

  Gage pulled up to the Silver place the next morning. It was eight o’clock and he’d already been to the barn that morning. He’d fed horses, driven out to check on cattle grazing on the back part of the ranch and then he’d had a big breakfast. Jackson had showed up to work with some young bulls they were hoping to buck next spring.

  He walked up to the square white house, just a box with wood siding, a fairly new metal roof and a front porch that could use a few new boards. The only sign of Christmas was the wreath on the front door. He guessed it was still early, barely December.

  The house was silent. Gage knocked on the door twice. No one answered. He turned the doorknob. It was unlocked so he walked inside and walked from room to room. No sign of Brandon. He went back outside. Maybe the kid had actually gotten up early to feed for Layla. But Gage doubted it.

  He walked out to the barn, his left leg stiff in the brace. It was going to be a long two months gimping around. The dog joined him. It wagged its tail, rolled over on its back for him to rub its belly. He obliged and then straightened to look around.

  The few head of cattle were munching hay. He turned, scanning the horizon. That’s when he spotted a lone figure heading across the field in the direction of town.

  “Good grief.” He shook his head and turned back to the truck. The dog followed. “Stay.”

  The border collie sat, tail wagging, brushing dirt back and forth. He smiled at the dog. “Okay, you can go.”

  The dog ran to his truck and jumped in the back. He doubted Layla would thank him for that. He’d call her later and let her know where the animal had gone. As he pulled down the drive he watched the figure getting smaller and smaller. Brandon had cut through the field and he was climbing the fence to get to the road. Gage hit the gas and took off, dust and gravel flying out behind his truck.

  When he pulled up next to the kid, Brandon shot him a dirty look and kept walking. Gage rolled down his window.

  “Get in.”

  “I can’t. I told a friend I’d help him get some hay up today.”

  “There isn’t anyone putting up hay at the end of November.” Gage stopped the truck. “Get in, now. If you don’t, I’ll call the police and we’ll see what they think about underage drinking.”

  “Like you’ve never done it.” Brandon stopped. He stood at the side of the road, all anger and teenage rebellion.

  “Right, well, I’ve done a lot I’m not proud of. But I never came home and puked on my mom’s floor.”

  “She’s my sister, not my mom.” Brandon shot him a look and then looked back at the road ahead of him. “How’d you know?”

  “I overheard Layla telling someone at the dinner last night. You know, she’s given up just about everything to stay home and take care of you. The least you could do is man up a little and help her out. She only got one semester of college in before she had to be a full-time mom to you. I don’t think she’s had much of a social life. She sure isn’t having a lot of fun.”

  Brandon walked toward the truck. “Aren’t you the user who pretended you liked her back in high school?”

  “I told you, I’ve done a lot I’m not proud of.”

  “So now you get to tell me how to live? Maybe we could both get right with Jesus on Sunday.”

  Gage whistled low. “You don’t really play fair.”

  “No, I don’t. I just figure you aren’t really the best guy to be preaching at me.”

  Gage opened his truck door fast, and Brandon jumped back, no longer grinning. “Get in the truck.”

  Brandon’s hands went up in surrender, and he put distance between himself and Gage by walking around the truck to get in on the passenger side. Gage climbed back behind the wheel and shifted into gear. Neither of them talked for a while. As they were pulling up the drive of Cooper Creek Ranch, Brandon glanced in the back of the truck.

  “Is that my dog?”

  Gage pulled up to the barn. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

  “What’s she doing here?”

  “She acted like she didn’t want to be left at home alone today.”

  “That’s crazy. Layla’s going to be pretty ticked if she comes home and the dog is gone.”

  “I’ll call and tell her I have you and the dog.” He parked and got out of the truck. Brandon took his time joining him.

  The side door of the barn opened, and Jackson walked out, his hat pulled low. He took off leather gloves and looked from Gage to Brandon before shaking his head. He shoved the gloves in his jacket pocket and waited.

  “You two ready to work?” Jackson made strong eye contact with Brandon.

  “Sure, why not.” Brandon edged past Jackson into the barn.

  “Nice kid.” Jackson slapped Gage on the back. “The two of you can be surly together.”

  “I’m not surly.” Gage strode past his brother, not much different from what Brandon had done. He watched him walk down the aisle between stalls, looking closely at the horses in the stalls.

  “Nice horses.” Brandon stopped in front of the stall that belonged to the champion quarter horse Jackson and Lucky had bought a year or so back.

  “Yeah, he’s nice all right. Don’t let Jackson catch you messing around with him.”

  “Yeah, guess we could actually pay off the mortgage on the farm and then some with a horse like that.”

  Mortgage. Gage tried to pretend he hadn’t heard the remark, but it settled in his mind, making him wonder what mortgage they could have on a nearly decrepit farmhouse and twenty acres of rough land.

  Maybe that explained the dark circles under Layla’s eyes? Not that a guy was supposed to notice those things. He’d learned that lesson from his sisters the hard way.

  “Where do we start?” Brandon moved on past the stallion to the office.

  Gage followed him inside and watched as the teen took a seat and kicked back, his booted feet on the desk.

  “Get your feet down.” Gage knocked Brandon’s feet off the desk. “First, we have steers needing to be vaccinated. We’ll drive them into a round pen on the twenty where they’re pastured.”

  “Fine. Let’s go.”

  Gage motioned him toward the door. The two of them headed for an old farm truck. Jackson was stowing supplies in the metal toolbox on the back of the truck. He turned as they approached.

  “Ready to go?”

  “We’re ready,” Gage opened the door and motioned Brandon in. He joined Jackson at the back of the truck. “Is there anything you need me to grab?”

  “Nope, I have lunch in the cooler and coffee in the thermos. We’re set to go.”

  “Let’s do it then.”

  “Gage, why are you doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  Jackson shot a look at the cab of the truck where Brandon waited, and then back to Gage. “Don’t play stupid.”

  “I’m helping Layla get control of her little brother before he lands himself in trouble.”

  “Out of the goodness of your heart?”

  “Yeah, why not?” Gage started to walk away but Jackson stopped him.

  “When do you ever do anything just because it helps someone else?”

  Anger flared but quickly evaporated because Jackson had a point. “So, I haven’t been the most charitable Cooper ever. But sometimes a guy sees the right thing to do and he does it.”

  “And it has nothing to do with Layla Silver being downright pretty and available?”

  “Layla’s pretty?” He scrun
ched his eyebrows in thought and scratched his chin. “Yeah, I guess she is.”

  “She’s also the girl you treated poorly back in high school.”

  “Well, maybe I’ve decided to make a few things right.” He was itching to get away from Jackson and this conversation, but Jackson didn’t appear to be letting go any more than a dog that had found a good bone.

  “Making amends, are we?” Jackson headed for the driver’s side door of the truck.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “There’s a lot more to it than just doing a few good deeds to make you feel better.”

  Gage whistled for Layla’s dog and pointed to the back of the truck. Once the animal was in, he walked around the truck to climb in. He wished he could get in his truck and take off, no looking back.

  But he’d made a commitment, and he was going to see it through. Besides, even though he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t feel like running.

  * * *

  After work that evening, Layla drove up to Cooper Creek Ranch to get her little brother. She parked her old truck in front of the two-story garage, but she didn’t get out right away. It felt too good to sit in the truck and relax. The silence felt almost as good as the sitting.

  A scratching on the door of her truck caught her attention. She pushed the door open and Daisy jumped back, wagging her feathery black tail and panting ninety-to-nothing.

  “Traitor,” she said. Daisy didn’t mind. Instead she licked Layla’s hand and then ran off in the direction of the barn.

  Layla started walking in the direction the dog had gone, her feet dragging. The barn made her poor old wood building look miserable by comparison. Her barn had been built by her grandfather in the early 1900s. This barn was a metal building, half stable and half arena. It even had an apartment attached.

  The Coopers had a little of everything. Quarter horses, bucking bulls, cattle, not to mention the banks, oil and apartment complexes. They were wealthy, but they were also the kindest people she knew. They were generous and good to their neighbors. Not that they were without their own problems. Not that their children, most now grown, didn’t occasionally do something wrong. She guessed she liked the Coopers because they were genuine and sometimes they messed up.