by Emmy Eugene
She glanced around, but there wasn’t another soul on the furniture floor at the moment. Chantelle had come through for him in a big way.
He half-twisted toward the door. “Will you come out?”
Millie looked like she’d rather go to Mars, then she nodded. Travis pushed open the door and held it for her, desperately wanting to take her hand in his. The desk he’d built for her stood down the sidewalk in the shade, and he went that way, Millie beside him.
She stalled after only a few steps though, and asked, “Travis, what is that?”
He continued toward the desk, where his list waited for him in the filing tray he’d built into the top of it. He stood next to it, admiring the craftsmanship. He’d stained the wood a nice, dark mahogany that made the wood grain stand out, and he thought the desk was beautiful.
Not as beautiful as Millie.
“This is your Christmas present, Millie,” he said, putting his hand on the desk. He wondered if she’d accept the gift—all of the gift. Him included.
“You built me a desk?”
“It’s not just a regular desk,” he said, extending his hand toward her. “Come closer so you can see it.”
She did, her steps slow and hesitant.
“It’s a custom desk,” he said. “With everything someone like you needs. Built-in filing tray.” He indicated the sunken tray in the top corner of the desk. “A place for pens, paperclips, ribbons, folders, all of it.”
He pulled open the top drawer. “The perfect depth for your lunch box. I was paying attention when you talked about your desk at your job at the golf course.” He swallowed, because Millie was just standing there, and he couldn’t tell how she was feeling from the blank expression on her face.
His nerves rioted, but he kept going. “This drawer is deep enough for files.” The empty ones he’d put there swayed as he opened the drawer. “I didn’t make it too big, because I know you don’t like a big desk, and I called your momma, and she said it would fit in your room.”
That was it. The whole speech had been delivered.
“Oh, wait,” he said. “There’s a paper here.” He picked up his list from the sunken file tray, his fingers shaking slightly. “It’s my wish list for Christmas. Do you have anything for me yet?”
Millie moved her eyes from the desk to him, and Travis could see something in her eyes now. Appreciation. Kindness. Love. Oh, how he wanted her to love him, the way he loved her.
“It’s December sixteenth,” she said. “I still have time to get you something.”
He thrust the paper toward her. “This is all I want.”
She took the paper and looked at it, bursting into laughter in the next moment. Relief rushed through Travis, because he’d take laughing over stunned staring.
“Did you decorate this?” She held up the paper. “It looks like my seven-year-old niece did it.”
“As a matter of fact,” he said, smiling at her. “A seven-year-old did make that. Janelle’s daughter Kadence helped me. You should’ve seen my attempts. Russ said you couldn’t even read the word.”
“It’s three letters,” Millie said, looking down at the paper again.
“Yeah.” Travis took a step toward her. “So, what do you think? Do you think I’ll get what I want for Christmas?”
Millie wore that flirtatious look in her eye he’d seen plenty of times before as she looked at the paper and back to him. “Travis, I’m worried you think I’m something I’m not.”
“I know who you are,” he said. “I’m sorry I said I wanted to take a step back. I’m sorry you don’t trust me yet. I’ll do everything I can to fix that. I’m sorry I’ve been grouchy about working the ranch.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’ve talked to my brothers, and I’m going to be hiring someone to take my jobs. I’m going back to my carpentry.”
Millie looked up from the colorfully decorated paper that only had one word on it—you—and met his eyes. “Really, Trav?”
“Really,” he said. “And you inspired that, Millie.” He took another step toward her. She was so close now. So close. “I want to be better than I am, because of you. I want to build us a house in the corner of the ranch and live there with you, my wood shop out back and this desk in your office, that you use to plan parties or whatever. The only thing I want for the rest of my life, is you.”
She ducked her head and shook it, her blonde curls bouncing. “Travis.”
“I love you, Millie,” he said, blurting the words out before she could tell him to stop talking. He couldn’t see her face, and he didn’t like that.
She sniffled, and Travis closed the distance between them, taking her into his arms and gently lifting her chin up so he could see her eyes. She was crying, and Travis found her absolutely beautiful.
“I’m not perfect,” she said.
“You don’t have to be perfect,” he said. “Because you’re perfect for me.”
She looked at him openly now, and Travis felt the love moving through him before she said, “I love you, too, Travis. If you really want me, I’m yours.”
“I really want you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry I—”
“Enough sorrys,” she whispered, putting one finger against his lips and silencing him. “Kiss me, cowboy.”
Travis chuckled, pure joy moving through him, and did what she said. Kissing Millie had always been a brilliant, powerful experience, but this kiss felt even more so than before. She loved him. He loved her. Whatever else they needed to work through, they could, because their love would lead them.
An alarm went off on Travis’s phone, and he pulled away breathless.
“What’s that?” Millie said, still tucked right against his body.
“It’s ten o’clock,” he said softly, breathing in the orange and vanilla scent of her hair. “Time for you to get to work.”
Millie stepped out of his arms and looked at him. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that? Quitting on the ranch and getting seven-year-olds to help you with wish lists.” She shook her head, that coy smile making Travis’s stomach quake with desire.
“What time is your lunch?” he asked. “I’ll bring you something, and we can talk about the Christmas party.”
Panic crossed her face. “I have no idea.”
Travis laughed, and Millie smiled at him. “Text me then, baby.”
Travis bent and collected another water bowl from a dog kennel. He smiled at Millie as he loaded it onto the cart she pushed. “You’re not going to miss taking care of the dogs?” she asked.
“They’re really Seth’s babies,” Travis said. “And I’m still going to be here. If I want to feed the dogs one day, I can.”
“What about the chickens?”
“Funny you should ask about those,” he said, moving down to the next kennel. The dogs were all still outside, so they had the building to themselves. He’d waited to do this chore until Millie had finished her first day at Furniture Row. She was radiant and absolutely perfect for him, and he’d spent the day on Cloud Nine, wondering how he’d managed to get her to look his way in the first place.
“But we’ll be in charge of the chickens,” he said. “I’m going to find someone to manage all the other stuff I do—the crops, the vehicular maintenance, the wells, the goats, and all of that. But I’m keeping the chickens.”
Millie laughed and shook her head. “I knew you loved those birds.”
“Yeah, well.” Travis grinned and gave a half-shrug. “I’d like a dog of my own too. How do you feel about that?”
“I like dogs,” Millie said, sobering. “So right before I texted you last night about the job, I called my dad.”
Travis straightened completely, all thoughts about feeding and watering canines gone. “Really? Tell me about that.”
She tried to shrug it off, but Travis could see how much the phone call had affected her, and it didn’t seem like it was in a good way. “I don’t know why I felt like I should call him, only that I felt
like I should during our hike on Friday, and I couldn’t shake the thought.”
Travis didn’t need to prompt her further. Millie would tell the story as they worked. So he picked up another bowl and waited for her to find the right words. He was actually glad she had to work to find them, as he often did as well.
“He got remarried last year,” Millie said, her voice strangled. “And didn’t tell any of us. He has a whole new family wherever he is.”
Travis set down the bowls and stepped around the cart, taking her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Mills.”
She clung to him. “And I sat there in my car, and I cried, and all I wanted was you. I knew you’d do exactly this, and I needed it.”
“Sorry I wasn’t there,” he murmured.
“Well, that blame is mine.” She looked up at him. “You’re not the only one who needs to apologize. I should’ve trusted you more. Of course I don’t believe you kissed Caroline. I know you, and I know you wouldn’t do that.”
Love and acceptance filled Travis, and he nodded. “Thank you, Millie. And I’m not going to walk out on you or our family. Ever.”
She nodded, her chin quivering again. “No steps back?”
“Only forward,” he said.
She touched her lips to hers, and Travis kept the kiss sweet and simple. Then he swayed with her right there in the dog enclosure as if they were back to dancing at his brother’s wedding.
“Mills, will you plan our wedding?”
“Is that a proposal?”
He chuckled and swept another kiss along her forehead. “Heck, no. I’m not proposing in a dog enclosure.”
She grinned as he released her, and they got back to work.
“But I would like to dance with you at our wedding,” he said.
“I’ll make a note of it,” she said, something she’d said probably half a dozen times during her short thirty-minute lunch that day while they’d talked about the family party. “Okay, so tell me how you got all the way to quitting around here.”
“Well, I’m keeping the chickens,” he said. “And the building repair. So it’s not really quitting.”
“Your word,” she said.
He gathered another couple of bowls and moved around to the next kennel. “Yeah, I know. I don’t know. You said I was unhappy, and I don’t think I’d ever thought about it before. I love being here, on the ranch. I love working with my brothers. I love horses, and dogs, and even the cattle. Sometimes.” He flashed her a smile. “I don’t want to leave this place or these people. I just don’t like working as much as I do. And I got back in the shop to build your desk, and we started working on the new dog building, and I realized what I loved most.”
“Carpentry,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said. “And my brothers have been awesome about it all, and yeah.” He sighed. “It feels right.”
“I’m happy for you,” she said.
“Will you help me design the house?” he asked, feeling vulnerable and like she could reach right into his chest and scoop out his heart with her bare hands.
Emotion stormed across her face, and she nodded. “I’d love to.”
Travis beamed at her. “Great. Now let’s get these dogs fed so I can wash up and kiss you.”
She giggled, but Travis was only sort of kidding. The dogs started coming back inside, which meant Russ was wrangling them up, and Travis did hurry to get them fed and watered then.
And then he got his kiss too.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Millie bustled around the homestead, putting a silver candle on the center of the hearth, and then moving it to the end. A white candle took its place, and she lit them both, along with several smaller once nestled in the garland on the handcrafted wood. Travis had made the hearth, she’d learned—just as she’d learned dozens of other things about him in the past week.
What a great week it had been, filled with all kinds of things. Millie had been bored before, but now every minute of her life felt stuffed with activity, and she wasn’t complaining. She took care of Momma in the morning and evening, and she worked all day at Furniture Row.
Chantelle seemed impressed that Millie had picked up the job so effortlessly, but Millie didn’t think her duties were that hard. She had to make sure the store was welcoming and personable, that customers were happy, and that they had the people they needed to sell and finance furniture.
Chantelle had all of those people in place, and all Millie had to do was make them like her. She’d been doing that by taking a leaf from Janelle Stokes’s book and making a new treat every day to take to work. The lemon bars had seemed like a real hit, and Millie had made notes about who liked what so she could bring the right treats at the right times.
She plugged in a string of lights that lit the doorway into the kitchen, and she smiled at the huge bowl she’d put the punch in.
“After the fire,” she muttered to herself, reaching for a box she then put in front of the gas fireplace. She flipped a switch, and those flames burst to life too. Candle after candle came out of the box, each of them a different size and shape. They were all scented like pine trees, and each had a wick that crackled like real fire.
With those lit, she stood back and admired her work. She’d brought in throw pillows, each one with a brand-new holiday cover on it. From Rudolph to Santa to poinsettias, the couches looked ready for a Christmas party.
She plugged in the tree in this room and hurried into the living room to do the same there. Russ had gone into town to pick up his parents, and Travis had gone for Momma, leaving Millie free rein to finish all the party prep.
“Dallas,” she said, and the Bluetooth speaker she’d brought lit up with a blue light. “Play holiday favorites, volume three.” Rex had a volume of three by himself, and Millie didn’t want the music to be overwhelming.
With bells jingling, she laid out the silverware on the long table. Travis had helped her put in the leaf so it would hold the fifteen people coming for the party, and Millie had brought over the festive dishes. The plates were snowy white, not that it actually snowed that often in the Texas Hill Country. The bowls and cake plates had cute, bright bulbs on them, with a hint of a carrot nose every now and then.
Millie loved the dishes, and she smiled fondly at the tall glasses that brought a touch of elegance to the table as well. She couldn’t help arranging the fresh flowers she’d picked up in town that afternoon, though a professional had already had her way with them. With all the candles on the table let too, Millie turned her attention to the kitchen.
“Time for food,” she said, opening the fridge and freezer. She scooped out all the lime and pineapple sherbet and poured the lemon-lime soda over it. With ice in the huge punch bowl, as well as a couple of drops of red food coloring, that was ready.
She’d ended up catering the food, something she’d put in place before her and Travis had taken their steps away from each other. They were back together now, closer than ever, and Millie’s pulse fluttered with the mere thought of the cowboy she could call hers.
She checked the time, and said, “They should be here any minute,” and she knew Preston Lewis was never late with his food delivery, even though she had ordered the food last-minute.
Sure enough, the doorbell rang in the next moment, and Millie half-jogged through the kitchen and into the living room to answer the door. Preston himself stood there, his hot-gloved hands holding a huge tray of something that smelled delicious.
“Millie,” he said.
“Right through there,” she said. “Thanks so much, Preston.”
He went into the kitchen, and two more guys followed him, each of them laden with food. So maybe she’d ordered more than fifteen people could possibly eat, probably ever. Her philosophy was that it was always better to have more food than not enough, and she beamed at the long foil-wrapped trays now sitting on the bar in the kitchen.
“We’ve got the pies and cakes,” Preston said. “And the rolls and salad, guys.” His
boys left to get more food, and he handed Millie a paper to sign. “How are you?”
“Good,” she said as she signed. “You?”
Something flashed across his face, and Millie’s compassion reared. “Holidays must be tough without Tammy,” she said.
Preston nodded, his mouth set in a thin line.
“You and the boys run this yourself?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, looking relieved that she’d moved past his late wife so quickly.
“They seem like good boys,” she said, handing back his pen. The two teenagers entered the kitchen again, their hands full with more bags and trays. The scent of chocolate came with them, and Mille’s stomach roared.
“They are,” Preston said. “All right, guys. Let’s hit the road.” He tipped his cowboy hat at Millie, but she dashed over to her purse and pulled out some cash.
“Wait,” she said, barely catching them at the front door. “Merry Christmas.” She handed the teen closest to her the money, and he looked at it like she’d given him a winning lottery ticket.
“Wow, thanks, ma’am,” he said.
“Merry Christmas, Millie,” Preston said from the porch. She grinned as she closed the door behind them, hearing the garage door start to open.
Someone was back, and she hoped it was Travis with Momma. She knew Russ and the Johnson parents, of course. But she still liked having Travis as the buffer between them all. The glue that held her to this family that she was growing very fond of.
“Oh, my,” Mrs. Johnson said, and Millie knew who’d arrived first. She hoped Momma wasn’t being a pain, as her house was closer to the ranch than Travis’s parents was, and he should’ve been back by now.
Millie stepped into the great room at the back of the homestead, where the party would take place. She loved the huge kitchen, the open dining room that bled into the large family room, and as soon as Travis showed her the blueprints for the house he wanted to build, she’d tell him she wanted a space just like this in their place.
Their place.
