A Cowboy's Christmas Proposal

by Cathy McDavid

  Without his sisters to distract him, Cody was a help rather than a hindrance. Old enough and big enough to carry some of the equipment, he happily assisted Owen with the unharnessing. He briefly wondered if his son would take after him and make rodeo his career or be the world’s next superhero, Cody’s latest obsession. Marisa had her heart set on becoming a princess. Owen saw her as a future rodeo queen. Little Willa was too young for choosing a future career, but Owen was sure whatever she did, she’d be the one in charge.

  Inside the cabin, Molly sat on the couch with Marisa’s head in her lap and the TV on low. She placed a finger to her lips and said in a whisper, “She’s asleep. Willa’s in the crib.”

  After settling Cody on the floor in front of the TV, a juice box in his hand, Owen walked Molly outside.

  “Thanks for your help today,” he said. “Couldn’t have managed without you.”

  “Just returning the favor.”

  He reached up and brushed a loose hair from her face, marveling at the strawberry blond color. All the feelings he’d been having about her during the drive merged together, and he lowered his head.

  “Didn’t we agree kissing was a bad idea?”

  Owen didn’t trust himself to stop, but he somehow did. “I’ve been reconsidering.”

  Her eyes searched his. The next instant, allure replaced resistance. “I don’t generally go around kissing employees.”

  “Make an exception.”

  “Just this once.” Her breath hitched.

  He gently covered her lips with his. She tasted as sweet as he remembered and felt just as soft. When she leaned into him, Owen wrapped his arms around her and let the rest of the world disappear until only the two of them remained.

  She could do that to him, take him to a place where nothing mattered but her and him. Where problems and obstacles didn’t exist. Where a future was possible.

  He murmured her name, the letters etching on the surface of his heart. He almost asked her then to stay with him, like this, forever.

  Too soon, unfortunately, reality returned, and Molly ended the kiss. He reluctantly released her, keeping hold of her hand.

  “You confuse me, Owen Caufield,” she said.

  “How so?”

  “Sometimes, you make me so mad I could scream. Other times, you...”

  “Tell me more about the other times.”

  “I think I could like you.”

  “And here I was convinced you already did.”

  “No matter how much we may want it, there’s a lot to overcome.”

  “Let’s focus on the positive,” he said.

  “I wish it were that easy.” She stepped away from him, taking her hands with her. “Are your children ready for another woman in their lives?”

  “They do all right with Jeanne’s boyfriend.”

  “Do they or is that what she tells you?”

  Owen thought a moment. How did his kids feel? He should probably ask them when the right moment arose.

  “To be honest,” Molly continued, “I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to be part of their lives. Don’t get me wrong, the children are great. They’re also a lot of responsibility. You have joint custody, and if things were to become serious between us, well, I’d have to share some of that responsibility. I do want children. Someday when I’m ready. What if I’m not there yet? What if I disappoint them? Disappoint you? What if I fail?”

  “I hadn’t considered that,” Owen admitted.

  “I think we should. I certainly should.”

  She hadn’t mentioned his lack of employment. She didn’t have to, it weighed plenty heavy on Owen. At the moment, he didn’t have much to offer her. That needed to change before they went any further.

  “Fair enough, Molly O’Malley.” His mimicking her use of his full name earned him a smile that, for him, pushed all doubts momentarily aside. “But be warned, I’m not giving up yet.”

  Starting today, he’d ratchet up his job hunting and call that head hunter a friend had told him about.

  “I’d better run,” Molly said. “Tidy up before my afternoon appointment. One of the couples I met with before is coming back.”

  Owen remained on the cabin porch as she walked to the clubhouse. Her protests weren’t without merit. But Owen was hoping to help her see that the obstacles facing them weren’t insurmountable when both people were determined.

  Opening the cabin door, he was met with pandemonium. During the five minutes he and Molly had stood outside, Willa had awakened and was wailing from her crib in the bedroom. Marisa had Cody in a choke hold on the floor and was attempting to pry one of her pony toys from his clutches.

  “What’s going on here?” Owen demanded, again in a too-loud voice.

  Cody and Marisa broke apart. “I wanna go home,” they cried simultaneously and loud enough to drown out Willa.

  So much for Owen thinking the rest of their stay at Sweetheart Ranch would be smooth sailing.

  CHAPTER NINE

  FROM WHAT OWEN was able to piece together—translating sobbing kid-speak required an expert—Cody had jumped on the couch, disturbing Marisa. Her cries, in turn, had wakened Willa. After that, pandemonium had erupted.

  “I want Mommy,” Marisa whined.

  Willa added a whimper for good measure.

  “When are we going home?” Cody asked, kicking at a spot on the carpet.

  Owen understood they missed their mother. Busy with the ski trip, Jeanne had been calling less often and conversations with the kids were significantly shorter in duration. They’d responded to their mother’s lack of availability by acting out. Spending time with Molly this morning may have filled the void by a small amount but had also made the kids miss their mother all the more.

  Time to take control. Owen made a snap decision. He was mostly free for the rest of the day, other than feeding the horses and cleaning their stalls before dinner. A trip to town seemed in order. He’d noticed both a public library and a playground in the park during the carriage ride. With luck, he could tire them out and chase a few job leads on his laptop while they slept.

  A quick lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and bananas helped settle the kids. By then, they were ready to go.

  Evidently the kids had never been in a bank before. When Owen stopped there first to arrange a transfer of funds, they gawked in amazement as if entering a magical city. The effect was heightened by a twelve-foot Christmas tree in the lobby. Best of all, the teller gave them mini candy canes.

  Because Owen didn’t live in Mustang Valley, the librarian told him he couldn’t check out any books. But then he mentioned working temporarily at Sweetheart Ranch, and she called Molly who allowed him to check out books and movies on her card. Owen thought that probably wouldn’t happen in a big city.

  Choosing just ten books and movies was a time-consuming process. Marisa didn’t want Willa to have any picture books, those were for babies. Cody was less interested in reading and more interested in the DVD collection. He dawdled over choosing a book when Owen insisted he pick at least one or they weren’t getting any movies.

  “How about we stop at the feed store?” he announced as they left the library, carting their books and DVDs. He didn’t really need anything, he just liked feed stores. They were reminders of both his former rodeo career and his years at Waverly Equine Products.

  “Can we sit on the big plastic horse?” Cody asked.

  “We’ll see.”

  The sign warning Do Not Sit on the Horse elicited a round of moans. It was a poor substitute, but Owen convinced the kids to stand in front of the horse for pictures. This one wore an evergreen wreath around its neck and red bow on its tail. Through the front window framed with lights Owen could see a decorated Christmas tree. The ornaments were all horses or related to horses, like mini red barns and sleighs with runners.
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br />   “Who wants to help me send this picture to Grandma?” he asked.

  “Me, me,” they all cried.

  Owen sent three pictures to his mother, letting each kid press the send button.

  Inside the store, he was welcomed by smells and sights and sounds as familiar to him as his favorite pair of jeans. The rich, pungent aroma of leather goods and oils. Saddles and bridles for sale—the former sitting on stands and the latter hanging from racks. The customers’ and proprietor’s small talk about the weather or the latest local happenings.

  Owen let his gaze wander. Unlike many similar establishments, this store sold considerably more than livestock and pet products. The entire left side of the store held Western apparel and accessories while every piece of horse equipment imaginable was displayed on the other side. Owen felt right at home.

  “Look, kittens!” Marisa gasped with delight and charged ahead.

  Kittens?

  “I want to see the kittens.” Cody took off after her, Willa bringing up the rear.

  Owen caught up to them just as all three kids were reaching into a box on the floor where five mewing balls of fluff frolicked. Beside the box sat a girl of about twelve. Immediately pegging Owen as the one in charge, she directed her sales pitch to him.

  “Do you want a kitten, mister? They’re only ten dollars each. Two for fifteen.”

  What a deal.

  The girl handed a kitten to Marisa. Owen gave her credit. Placing the item in the customer’s hands was half the battle in sales.

  “Can we have one?” Marisa begged. “Please, Daddy.” She was practically crushing the poor little thing.

  “I don’t know. They look young.”

  “Eight weeks old,” the girl informed them. “Already weaned and litter box trained.”

  “What’s weaned?” Cody asked.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Owen mumbled. Much later.

  Cody then issued his standard we’ll-be-good promise.

  “You’d have to ask your mother,” Owen said. She’d be the one keeping the kitten when the kids left Sweetheart Ranch on Christmas morning.

  Marisa pouted. “She’s busy.”

  Was that the excuse Jeanne had given the kids for being less available? Owen wasn’t complaining. She deserved a break. She’d been the primary caregiver for the last several years. Her unavailability was also prompting the kids to rely more on him, which was his goal in coming to Mustang Valley.

  “I don’t think Miss Molly will let us keep a kitten,” he said, trying a different approach. “Remember what she told you? No pets at the ranch other than service animals.”

  “It can be a service animal,” Cody insisted.

  “Good try, son.”

  “We’ll feed it and pet it and comb it,” Marisa chimed in. She held an orange-striped kitten that adorably batted the string on her jacket hood.

  “You could give us the kitten for Christmas,” Cody suggested.

  “We won’t fight anymore, Daddy.” Marisa’s sweet expression could melt polar ice caps.

  He was intent on resisting only to reconsider. Perhaps he could turn this into another “teaching moment.” His parents had given him a puppy when he was Cody’s age on the condition he took care of it. Later, at twelve, he’d been given his first horse with the same condition and been required to earn money during the summer doing odd jobs to help pay for the horse’s expenses.

  “Kittens are a lot of work,” he said. “And they cost money for food and a litter box and veterinarian exams.” His mom owned two cats, and he was amazed at how much she spent on them. “Are you willing to help pay?”

  Cody dug in his pants pocket and extracted some coins. “I have sixty-three cents.”

  “Kittens cost more than that.”

  Owen was met with three blank stares. In Willa’s defense, she had no concept of money.

  “Most people earn money by doing work. Like when I go to the office. If you do the chores I give you, then I’ll pay you for them. But you have to use the money to buy food and other things for the kitten.”

  The blank stares didn’t waver. Even the young girl selling the kittens watched unblinkingly.

  “You get the kitten in exchange for doing chores. Understand?”

  “We get a kitten!” Cody hollered.

  “Shake on it.” Owen held out his hands. “That’s how adults make a deal.”

  Cody and Marisa took turns shaking his hand. Willa wanted a hug.

  Elated, the young girl pointed to the counter. “There’s food and litter and boxes for sale over there.”

  Owen removed a ten-dollar bill from his wallet. “You have to agree on which one.”

  “One kitten for each of us!” Marisa exclaimed.

  “Just one. You’ll share, and there will be absolutely no fighting. Otherwise, I’m bringing the kitten back.” He wasn’t sure he could carry through with the threat, but it sounded good.

  The kids jumped up to wrap their arms around him. Owen felt ten feet tall. He was convinced he could talk Molly into letting him keep the kitten for the duration of his stay, once he explained his reasoning to her. She supported his goal to be a better father, and instilling responsibility in kids was what a father did.

  While the kids played with the kittens and argued over which one they should pick, Owen perused the store. He recalled being here during his earlier years at Waverly, before he’d moved up the ranks. Not much had changed since then.

  Inspired, he used the opportunity to pick out a few Christmas gifts for Santa to deliver Christmas morning while the kids were preoccupied. A pair of boots for Cody. Toy horses for Marisa and a stuffed pony for Willa.

  He hurried to the counter. The kids had narrowed down their kitten selection, giving him little time to pay for his purchases before they noticed.

  “Afternoon.” The older man behind the counter offered Owen a hearty grin. “Looks like you found everything.”

  “And then some. Can we get these bagged up quickly before I’m found out.” As the man scanned and slipped the purchases into a plastic bag, Owen said, “Appears I’m also going to need kitten chow, litter and a box.”

  “My neighbor’s daughter.” The man shook his head sympathetically. “She’s under strict instructions by her mother to find homes for the kittens before the end of the week. All the money she earns will go toward having the mama cat spayed.”

  Owen laughed. “I had a similar chat with my three just now.”

  The portly proprietor paused and studied Owen intently. “Say, aren’t you that new minister at Sweetheart Ranch? I stopped by the open house but don’t think we had a chance to meet.”

  “Online minister, and guilty as charged.”

  “Name’s Fred.” The man extended his hand, and Owen shook it. “Glad to make your acquaintance.”

  “Owen Caufield. I used to work for Waverly Equine Products. I’m pretty sure I’ve been here before. Years ago.”

  Fred wagged a finger at him. “I thought you looked familiar at the open house, but I just assumed I’d seen you around town. Well, fancy that!” He shook Owen’s hand again.

  “You have a nice store here. Well laid out. A wide variety of products. Good location.”

  Fred exhaled slowly. “Gonna miss Mustang Valley, that’s for sure.”

  “You leaving?”

  “I’m selling the place.” He pointed to a sign in the window Owen hadn’t noticed. “If I can find a buyer.”

  “Retiring?”

  “Yeah.” He released another slow breath. “My wife’s been begging me to move to Minnesota.”

  “Minnesota? That’s a long way from Arizona.”

  “We’re originally from there and still have family in the Saint Paul area. She’s always wanted to go home eventually. Seems a fair trade-off—we’ve been living in the desert thes
e past thirty-eight years. My choice.”

  “Take a warm coat,” Owen advised.

  “Gonna be a change for sure,” Fred agreed. “Our worst winter day here is like spring in Saint Paul.”

  With their transaction complete, Owen fetched the kids, along with their new acquisition. He tried not to worry about what Molly would say. Or Jeanne, who may not relish the prospect of a second pet.

  Worst-case scenario, Owen would keep the kitten. Cats weren’t as much trouble as dogs. Plus, his mom would be a wealth of information.

  Marisa took the lead for once, and Cody obliged her. She campaigned for the orange kitten and promptly named it Pinkie Pie after one of the My Little Pony movie characters.

  “She’s so cute, Daddy.”

  “Are you sure the kitten is a girl?” Owen asked.

  Marisa glared at him as if he’d suggested the unthinkable. Since a trip to the vet was in the near future, he figured they’d confirm Pinkie Pie’s gender then.

  He’d just gotten all three kids loaded in the backseat of his truck when he heard his name being called. Turning, he spotted a man coming toward him and broke into a grin.

  “Arnie! What the heck are you doing here?”

  They clasped hands and slapped each other on the shoulder. “I’m making a sales call,” Arnie told him. “Mustang Valley is my territory. But I could ask the same thing. What are you doing here? I heard you quit Waverly.”

  “I did.” Owen brought his friend up to date.

  He and Arnie went way back and had been professional associates rather than competitors. Arnie worked for Craft-Right Portable Horse Stalls. The two men had crossed paths often through the years.

  “You know,” Arnie said when Owen finished, “I’m leaving Craft-Right at the end of January.”

  “No fooling! You’ve been with them a long time.”

  “I’m taking a few years off. Doing the Mister Mom thing. My wife just got promoted to junior partner at her law firm, and the hours are insane. Mine, too, and we hate leaving the boys with a sitter all day, every day.”

  Since Arnie appeared pleased, Owen congratulated him. “Good for you.”