by Kim Redford
“Why me?” he asked, sounding as puzzled as he felt.
“You were there to help her when she fell off her four-wheeler,” Sydney said, lowering her voice. “I believe she’s come to see you as a strong male figure in her life.”
“There’s Slade.”
“Yes. But he’s Storm’s uncle and familiar. I suspect you’ve become bigger than life to her, so your voice carries a lot of weight.”
“That’s a huge responsibility. I’ll try to live up to it and not let either of you down.” He gave Sydney’s hand a final squeeze, then let it go when he heard Storm head their way.
Storm carefully set a mug in front of Sydney before she set the other mug in front of her chair. After she sat down, she picked up the platter of cookies and held it out to Dune.
He selected a cookie in the shape of a reindeer and took a big bite. “Delicious!”
“Thank you.” Storm gave him a relieved look before she held out the plate to Sydney. “Mommy, I think you’ll like these, too.”
Sydney picked up a cookie, sniffed it, and bit into it. “Yummy! You’re getting to be an excellent chef.”
Storm giggled as she set down the plate and grabbed two cookies. “Uncle Slade says I’ve got the makings of a good fry cook.” She frowned, shaking her head. “I’m not sure what that means, but I think I’d like to tie goats better.”
“Good choice,” Dune agreed, taking another cookie. “As soon as we get done here, we’re going to practice with your dummy and turn you into the best goat-tying girl in North Texas.”
Storm cocked her head at him. “I hope you’re not funning me, ’cause I’ve got room for another buckle on my wall.”
“You’ve got room for lots more buckles, and you’re going to win them.” Sydney looked from her daughter to Dune with a relieved and happy smile on her face. “Thanks. We appreciate your help.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” He gestured toward the living room and the goat-roping dummy. “Tuffy out there will put us through our paces.”
Storm’s tinkling laughter filled the kitchen. “Tuffy, here we come!”
Dune glanced from daughter to mother, glad he’d been able to help them through this crisis, probably only one of many more to come as Storm grew into the strong, smart cowgirl she was destined to be.
And he suddenly knew that he wanted to be there for every single day of their future.
Chapter 29
Two weeks later, Sydney stood near Celeste on the boardwalk in front of Thingamajigs & More. She held a beautiful, colorful copy of the Wildcat Bluff Cowboy Firefighters Calendar. She couldn’t have been more proud of so much volunteer work. Nathan had pulled out all the stops to get it produced a week before their Christmas events. Now she could only hope that everyone—locals and visitors alike—would love the calendar and support the fire station by buying it.
She smiled in pleasure at the fun-looking group of firefighters on the cover, then flipped through the glossy pages to the last month. Mr. December. She traced a fingertip across the hot photograph of Dune. She’d spent much of the last two weeks with him, organizing and finishing up details for Christmas at the Sure-Shot Drive-In. They’d managed to carve out time to be alone, sharing heartaches and triumphs, hopes and dreams, hugs and kisses. They’d discovered they were more alike than unalike. She was even learning to be spontaneous again. Together, they’d helped Storm, working on her goat-tying abilities and increasing her self-confidence, and she was much better.
Sydney glanced up and saw Nathan standing inside the front window of his store, watching her. She gave a little wave of appreciation—as well as goodbye—for his excellent work and then looked down the row of Old Town’s businesses. Gene’s Boot Hospital, Lone Star Saloon, Morning’s Glory, Adelia’s Delights, Chuckwagon Café, and other prime location stores were all now stocked with the calendar. She’d just personally delivered a stack to each and every one of them, and they’d happily put the calendar on their checkout counters.
She’d wanted Dune to be along to distribute calendars, but she just couldn’t wait for him once she got her hands on the merchandise. Later, she’d go with him to Sure-Shot and other stores, so they could share the experience.
She glanced at the red-and-white checked curtains in the café’s front windows, thinking how proud Storm had been to announce to her family that Dune was training her in goat tying. She’d also announced that she was baking him more cookies because he’d liked her gingerbread so much. Sydney had received a little ribbing from her family about Dune, but they were also happy for her. Granny had not only made a Christmas stocking for him, but she’d gone out of her way to make him feel welcome in their family.
She glanced back down at the calendar. Mr. December looked way too hot to handle on the back seat of Celeste, but she figured she was cowgirl enough to meet fire with fire. And come out a winner.
Love. She hadn’t expected to feel such a strong emotion for a man again. And yet here she was, teetering on the brink of a new beginning. She wanted to share life’s ups and downs with Dune. In the middle of the night, she wanted to turn to him, knowing he would be there for her just as she would be there for him. She wanted him to help raise her daughter, particularly since Storm had come to care for him. Yes, she’d freely admit it—if only to herself—she wanted Dune Barrett in every way imaginable. But for now, she’d settle on them making Christmas at the Sure-Shot Drive-In a celebration to remember.
She looked from the calendar to Celeste and couldn’t help but smile. Not only were their cowboy firefighters going to be famous locally, but her beautiful Cadillac would be as well. And they all deserved it.
She opened the door and sat down inside. She tucked the calendar under her seat so it wouldn’t get blown out of the convertible and set her purse on the passenger seat. She’d stowed the boxes of calendars in the roomy trunk so they wouldn’t get hurt when she drove around the county.
All in all, she was ready to move on with her day. She’d dressed simply and comfortably in a retro green cashmere cardigan sweater with a matching pencil skirt. She still wasn’t wearing heels, so she’d selected her crimson beaded moccasins with a matching red leather handbag.
She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and pushed what had come to be her number one speed dial.
“Hey there,” Dune answered in his deep drawl. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”
“Never. What are you doing right now?”
“Waiting for you.”
“I mean really.”
“Really.”
She simply shook her head in amazement. Dune had an uncanny ability to up her temperature with just one word. “I’ve got the calendars.”
“How do they look?”
“Great—particularly Mr. December.”
“I don’t want to hear about it.”
She chuckled, imagining how all the cowboy firefighters were going to feel about being ogled by lusty cowgirls. Maybe they’d start to enjoy their sudden fan base.
“After that laugh, now I really don’t want to hear about it.”
“Do you want to help me distribute the calendars to stores in Sure-Shot?”
“I’m yours to command.”
“Just so you remember who’s holding your reins when those calendars get snapped up and you’re being chased through the streets by adoring cowgirls.”
He laughed at her words. “Sure. That calendar is going to set off a stampede for cowboy firefighters.”
“It’ll be like the Oklahoma land rush.”
“As long as they’re in covered wagons and I’m on horseback, I figure I can outrun them.”
“Just so you run my way.”
“Always.”
Again, Dune only had to say one word to make her happy. There ought to be a law against such ability, but she was glad there wasn’t. She wanted
him all to herself and just the way he was.
“Sydney?”
“My mind wandered there for a moment.”
“Do you want me to meet you at the house or in Old Town?”
“Stay right where you are, cowboy. I’m coming to get you in my pretty pink Caddy.”
“I don’t know if you should or not. You’re liable to give B.J. a heart attack when he gets a gander.”
She couldn’t keep the laughter inside. “B.J. is tougher than he looks. I bet he’s even driven a vintage Cadillac or two when they were new.”
Dune joined her laughter. “I wouldn’t tell him that he’s vintage to his face.”
“Never. But he is a classic.”
“You know it.”
“So I’m in front of Nathan’s store right now. Why don’t I pick you up in a bit, then we’ll tool around in Celeste.”
“Do you know where my cabin is on Cougar Ranch?”
“I’ll look for your truck.”
“Okay. I’ll pull on my boots and meet you outside.”
“See you soon.” She hung up with a strong sense of satisfaction.
She backed out of her parking space and turned off Main Street onto Wildcat Road. As she picked up speed, a cool breeze whipped through her hair, reminding her that they were deep into December.
When she reached the turnoff to Cougar Ranch, she slowed down, not only for the turn but to catch her breath. She was barreling into her future as if she was on the back of a fast horse. Was she letting her heart lead her head? Maybe. If so, was it smart? She had Storm to think about, not just herself. And yet everything within her was telling her that Dune was the one.
Up ahead she saw the big red barn and Dune’s dually in front of a small cowboy cabin. She caught the scent of hay, oats, and horse as she stopped beside his pickup. He was leaning against the truck with a piece of straw sticking out of his mouth.
At the sight of her, he pulled the straw from between his lips, tossed it on the ground, and raised his cowboy hat in hello.
No two ways about it, he was a sight for sore eyes. She instantly went back into barrel-racing mode. She didn’t want to slow down with him. She wanted to ride with the wind, knowing he was right by her side.
As Dune headed toward her, she heard someone call her name. She glanced toward the sound coming from the barn. B.J. sauntered in her direction wearing his trademark plaid shirt, striped overalls, and scuffed boots—surely vintage by the look of them.
When B.J. got close, he doffed his beaten-up brown cowboy hat and grinned from ear to ear, revealing stained teeth. He spat tobacco to one side, then walked up and down beside Celeste, nodding his head and murmuring under his breath.
“What’s that?” she asked, watching him enjoy the Caddy like it was Christmas morning.
“It’s pure pleasure to see this fine a vehicle right here beside the barn. Nineteen fifty-nine, right?”
“That’s right,” Dune agreed as he walked up to the passenger door.
“Moss Werner’s Celeste, right?”
“Right,” Sydney agreed. “I was really surprised when he gave her to me.”
“I’m not,” B.J. said. “Moss thought you had the right heart to take care of his beautiful Celeste.”
“I’m doing my best.”
“Sydney’s taking me for a spin.” Dune gestured toward the Cadillac.
“You lucky dog,” B.J. said with a touch of awe in his voice.
“If you play your cards right, she might take you for a turn later, too.”
B.J. turned a hopeful gaze on Sydney.
“I surely will,” she agreed. “We’ve got to distribute calendars right now, but later sometime.”
“Thanks.” B.J. cocked his head at her. “Calendars, huh?”
Sydney reached under her seat, pulled out a calendar, and held it out to him.
B.J. took it, nodding in appreciation. “Celeste and calendars reminds me of those pretty gals I used to see in car calendars in garages back when I took my Mirage in to get a tune-up.”
“You had a Cadillac pickup?” Dune stared at B.J. in obvious envy and amazement. “They didn’t make many of those models.”
“No wonder.” B.J. spat to the side in disgust. “Looked good, but the crazy coots put mules under those engines instead of horses.”
“What do you mean?” Sydney asked.
“You heard of horsepower?” B.J. moved his chaw from one side of his mouth to the other.
“Yes,” Sydney agreed.
“That’s what you want under a hood. Think 1976. Fuel prices skyrocketed. Gas lines at stations. Folks who thought they were smarter than the average bear decided to put a little engine in a big truck. I couldn’t pull squat with that Caddy.”
“That’s a shame,” Dune said.
“Bet it looked good.” Sydney tried for something positive to overcome the disappointment lingering in the air.
“Yeah.” B.J. croaked out a laugh. “Cowgirls loved that vehicle, so I squired quite a few around in it.” He walked to the front of Celeste and stroked a tanned, weathered hand down a longhorn. “Now this baby is perfect. Big everything. Cadillac earned its chops on this one.”
“It is a beauty,” Dune agreed.
“Yep.” B.J. walked back and glanced down at the calendar in his hand. “Pinups?”
“Well, in a way, yes,” Sydney agreed.
B.J. cocked his head and turned narrowed eyes on her, obviously waiting for an explanation.
“That’s the new Wildcat Bluff Cowboy Firefighters Calendar.”
B.J. glanced at Dune, and then he guffawed loud and long. “Don’t that beat all. Bet you’re in it.”
“He’s Mr. December,” Sydney said with a touch of pride in her voice.
B.J. bent over double in laughter. “I’m gonna have to get me one of these calendars and put it in the barn for the horses.”
“Thanks,” Dune said as he opened the door and sat down shotgun. “It’s for a good cause.”
“We’re raising money for our fire-rescue station,” Sydney explained, hoping for a sale.
“That’s a right fine cause. I’ll take this one.” B. J. pulled a worn leather billfold out of his back pocket, selected a twenty, and handed it to Sydney. “Keep the change.”
“Thank you! You’re our first sale.”
“Good luck.” B.J. looked closer at the cover. “That’s a mighty fine-looking bunch of cowboys and cowgirls. That Hedy, she’s something.”
“Better not let Bert hear you say that.”
B.J. chuckled in a raspy tone. “One thing you got to say about Bert, he’s like a hound dog. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will keep him from bird-dogging that cowgirl.”
“Maybe he’s finally making progress,” Sydney said.
“You think?” B.J. gave her a closer look as if he could hardly believe his ears.
“Bert invited her to see his bluebird collection.”
B.J. took off his cowboy hat and scratched his head, then replaced his hat. “Well now, Christmas does come once a year, but bluebonnets don’t bloom in December.”
“True enough,” Sydney agreed, although she was going to think positively about Bert and Hedy.
“Now don’t forget my ride in your pretty Celeste.” B.J. waved the calendar, chuckling as he headed for the barn.
“See you later,” Sydney called as she handed the crumpled bill to Dune. “Why don’t you take charge of the money?”
“What’ll I do with it?”
“I guess the glove compartment for now.”
“You know.” He jerked open the glove compartment and tossed the greenback inside. “I’m going to hear that laughter all over the county. Mr. December. I knew I shouldn’t have let you talk me into that photo.”
“You haven’t even seen it.”
“And I don’t want to either.”
“Are you getting grumpy?” She backed out, waved at B.J., and hit the lane out of the ranch.
“I’m way past grumpy.”
“Remember, it’s for a good cause.”
“Yeah, just keep reminding me of that.”
“Would a kiss help?”
He snorted as he glanced over at her. “Do you think I’m that easy?”
She grinned as she nodded in reply. “Maybe.”
“Oh, hell yes. A kiss from you would help about anything.”
She stopped right in front of the cattle guard under the Cougar Ranch sign, figuring they were about to put on another show for the entire county. Only this time, she didn’t care one bit. “Come here, cowboy. I’ll kiss it and make it better.”
He tossed his hat onto the floorboard, gave her a big grin, and pulled her into his arms.
When he pressed his lips to hers, she didn’t figure hot even began to describe the inferno that blazed between them.
Chapter 30
Dune stood in the midst of a calamity. At first, everything had gone fine when he’d delivered calendars with Sydney to the Sure-Shot downtown businesses such as the Bluebonnet Café. The retailers had immediately set the benefit calendars on their checkout counters for the best point-of-purchase display.
Who’d have thought their cowboy firefighter calendars would cause a near-riot in the Sure-Shot Beauty Station? All he’d wanted to do was deliver the calendars and get the hell out of Dodge. It’d been the last stop. But no, it couldn’t be easy. Now he felt as if he’d been roped, branded, and was about to be ridden hard and put up wet.
“Please sign my calendar, Mr. December. ‘To Lila with love’ will do nicely.” A freshly permed-and-coiffed, blue-haired lady batted her eyelashes at him from behind rhinestone, cat-eye eyeglasses. From her diminutive height, she held up a cowboy firefighter calendar and a ballpoint pen.
One thing every cowboy knew for sure, you didn’t mess with a strong-willed lady who looked like your toughest teacher and who’d pushed her way to the front of the line like a bulldozer. No, you gave them what they wanted and hoped they’d go away happy. “Lila, you say?”
