A Christmas Wedding for the Cowboy

by Mary Leo

  “I’m sorry. I should have told you, but I was sure you were suffering, as well.”

  “Complete miscommunication on both our parts. Sorry. I’ve been consumed with guilt over what happened at your house.”

  They started walking again, even faster this time. She was freezing and could only imagine how cold Carson must be.

  “That was entirely Kayla’s fault, and Jimmy’s, not to mention those out-of-control dogs. You had nothing to do with it.”

  The mere mention of it not being her fault caused her to lighten up a bit. Still, his opinion didn’t reflect the rumors that seemed to persist around town, reminding her that her future as a business owner remained in jeopardy.

  “How is Kayla, by the way? I didn’t see her tonight.”

  “She locked herself away in her room, a habit she and I seem to have in common.”

  Zoe thought about her own MO for the last week. Apparently, the Grants weren’t the only ones who liked to lock themselves away when things weren’t going as planned.

  “I hate to admit I did the same thing,” she said, deciding to come clean. “I didn’t want to face anyone. Everyone’s utterly convinced I’m jinxed. They joke about it, but I know that’s how they really feel. Heard it for myself tonight.”

  Zoe slowed her pace when she realized Carson was having a bit of trouble keeping up. He might not need that cane, but he wasn’t healed yet, and the brisk pace was taking its toll on his injured leg. After everything she’d heard about his accident, it was a wonder he could walk at all.

  “Well, we’ll just have to prove them wrong.”

  She liked the way he thought, but, unfortunately, she still wasn’t up to planning any more birthday parties.

  “And how are we going to do that?”

  “By making my wedding the best wedding Briggs has ever seen.”

  Zoe couldn’t help but smile. She knew that would be a real problem. She still hadn’t heard from his elusive fiancée and had no idea what kind of wedding favors the bride wanted, or any of the other details that made up the reception. Without the bride’s input, it would be extremely difficult to accomplish what Carson wanted.

  “What about Marilyn Rose?”

  “What about her?”

  They stopped walking and turned to each other. It began to snow and Christmas music could still be heard faintly off in the distance. If life were fair, they’d be planning their own wedding, but as her dad always said, Life is not fair. It’s a constant struggle to solve problems and then you die. If by some chance, somewhere along the way, you find happiness, consider yourself one of the lucky ones.

  Apparently, she was not meant to be one of the lucky ones.

  “Shouldn’t she have a say in all of this?”

  He hesitated, and for a brief moment, she felt for sure he was thinking of kissing her. But as quickly as the moment came, it disappeared and he shivered with the cold.

  “She did and she agrees one hundred percent with anything I want to do.”

  “I can’t believe that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because women like to be in charge of these kinds of things, and so far, I haven’t heard one word from her. I mean, there’s no doubt Marilyn Rose will show up for her wedding, is there?”

  “Absolutely not!”

  Those two words acted like a sucker punch. Her mind quickly spun back to what Piper had said earlier that day. Zoe didn’t quite know how to respond. Was he really being dishonest? Was he using absolutely not like every other liar Piper had told her about?

  Piper’s theory of those words couldn’t be true or Carson was purposely deceiving her and she simply couldn’t accept that. Not from the town hero, and certainly not from a man who had clergy in his family. Didn’t that make the entire family honest by association?

  “If you’re one hundred percent sure,” she said, tentatively.

  He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be? We need to believe in our dreams. We need to make them a reality no matter the naysayers. Create the wedding you always wanted to create, no holds barred. Don’t be afraid to go over and above. Take chances. If it’s too outrageous or if it costs too much, believe me, I’ll rein you in. But I have a feeling you won’t let that happen. Let’s show this town what you’re made of. I’m all in. I promise.”

  “Don’t even say that or you’ll be getting married in Travis’s sleigh, and Piper would perform the ceremony. I wouldn’t even want my parents there until it was time for the reception. I might plan big, elaborate weddings, but if it was my wedding, I’d want it to be an intimate affair. But hey, this is Carson Grant’s wedding. The town hero. You need to do it up big.”

  “Whatever you think is best is fine by me. It’s all up to you. I’m feeling much more positive and much better.”

  “Since when?”

  He held out his arms and bent his head back and stared up at the sky. Great big snowflakes gently landed on his cheeks and forehead. He looked genuinely happy, happier than she’d seen him since they first began planning his wedding to Marilyn Rose.

  “Since right now. Being with you, and talking to all those kids, convinced me that I’ve been brooding far too long. You and I need to face what’s holding us back and move forward with conviction. It’s time.”

  She held out her hand. “Then let’s shake on it. We’re both done locking ourselves away.”

  He took her hand in his and twirled her around a couple times. In an explosion of Christmas cheer, her heart filled with Carson Grant. His hand felt warm and strong surrounding hers. She could only imagine what it would feel like to be encircled in his arms, their bodies pressed up against each other, his breath...

  She slipped her hand out of his and stopped twirling. This couldn’t continue or his wedding would never happen, at least not with her at the planning helm.

  “Done,” he said, and once again, she saw that spark in his eyes and had felt it in his touch.

  They had a connection, a deep connection, and heaven help her, she hoped with everything that was good and decent neither one of them acted on it or they’d never, ever come out of their rooms...again.

  * * *

  “YOU TOLD HER WHAT?” Father Beau asked as he and Carson pounded finishing nails into the new baseboards in Carson’s living room. Late-afternoon sunlight poured in through the new windows and reflected off his cousin’s mirrored sunglasses. When Beau worked like this, wearing his tattered jeans, flannel shirt, a worn tool belt and scuffed Western boots, while guzzling a beer or two, no one would ever guess he was a Catholic priest. He looked like any typical cowboy tending to the endless chores on a ranch.

  But Carson knew the truth about this cowboy priest and knew he could trust Beau with his life if it came down to it, and Beau in turn could do the same with Carson. They were more brothers than cousins, and more alike than either one of them liked to admit.

  Carson wanted to tell him about his growing feelings for Zoe Smart, how he’d dreamed about her the previous night, and how he desperately wanted to kiss her...along with other more intimate things. And even though he knew he could confide in Beau, he wasn’t quite ready to admit his feelings for Zoe out loud. Once he did, there would be no pulling them back. So instead, he decided to try a different scenario on the good father.

  “I told Zoe to go ahead and plan away, and do it up big. Really big!”

  “But the entire wedding is a lie,” Father Beau argued, obviously trying to make Carson second-guess his sinful ways.

  Only thing was, Carson had a plan.

  “Not necessarily. I may not be getting married on Christmas Day, but I’m thinking it just might be Kayla and Jimmy who walk down that aisle.”

  “Kayla and Jimmy? Last I heard, Jimmy’s holed up at Dream Weaver Inn, hasn’t taken a shower in a week, lost his job, and your sister still
won’t talk to him.”

  “A temporary condition. She’ll have to talk to him sometime. He’s the father of her baby. Besides, I have an idea that includes your expert negotiating skills.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t. I’m a man of my word...my honest word... I don’t want any part of your lying scheme.”

  “No lying when it comes to Kayla and Jimmy, just your counseling. Both those kids could use it.”

  “Maybe they do, but so far, I don’t see much evidence of any of your plans working too well. What makes you think my unwelcomed intrusion is going to make any difference?” Father Beau grabbed the can of white paint, pried it open and poured some of the paint into a small plastic bowl, picked up a brush and proceeded to smear it on the baseboard as he sat cross-legged on the floor.

  “This is foolproof. They love each other, I know it and you know it. My sister can’t admit that Jimmy wants to marry her regardless if she’s pregnant or not. Tomorrow is Sunday, and you’ll make sure you attend dinner at my parents’ house. You can use your priestly talk to tell the family and Kayla about Jimmy’s miserable state, after you visit him, of course. She’ll listen when it comes from you. Then I’ll ask her to help with my wedding plans, because, let’s face it, she knows a lot about weddings. This way she’ll have some say in the matter. Then when the time is right, we’ll bring Jimmy into the picture and wham! They won’t be able to ignore how they feel about each other, and just like that, we’ll have that Christmas wedding after all. My mom will be so happy.”

  “It’s not fair to bring your mom into this. You know I hate to disappoint her. She’s my second mom. There’s nothing I won’t do for her.”

  “Then give her this wedding.”

  Carson kept pounding in nails as Father Beau painted up behind him, completely silent for a long while. The tree had torn up everything in its wake, even the baseboards under the front windows. They’d already repainted the walls, and a glass fitter had reinstalled the windows. In the end, his dad’s party had cost him nearly five thousand dollars, but who was counting?

  “So, the plan is to pretend the wedding is for you and Marilyn Rose, but actually it’s a wedding for your sister and Jimmy? I’m getting the feeling there’s something more going on. Something between you and Zoe Smart that you’re keeping from me. Why on earth would you want to keep up the charade? Why not just tell her what you’re doing?”

  “Because it’s safer this way.”

  “Safer for whom?”

  Carson turned toward his cousin and was about to come up with some random lie when Beau cut him off. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for your wedding planner.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  He stopped painting and held up his paint-soaked brush. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not.”

  Carson could pull the wool over almost anyone’s eyes, but he could never keep a true secret from his cousin Beau.

  “Fine. Yes, I’m falling for her, but what kind of a man does that make me? I’m still mourning the loss of my fiancée, and I’m suddenly having feelings for another woman. It has to be some kind of rebound thing. It can’t be a real emotion. And if it is real, did I ever truly love Marilyn Rose? Maybe I don’t know what love is? It could be that in spite of all the women I’ve dated, and as you know, there’ve been quite a few, I still don’t know what real love actually feels like.”

  “You’ll know it in your heart when you’re in love.”

  “Easy for you to say, your heart knew what it wanted when you were still a teen. I’m almost thirty and I’m still searching. I thought I felt it for Marilyn Rose, or why else would I have asked her to marry me?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you were in love with the idea of love, more than the actual emotion, but that’s something you’ll have to figure out on your own. Now, what’s going on with you and Zoe Smart?”

  “I don’t exactly know other than I want to be with her every chance I get. I love her smile and I like to make her laugh. I admire how she works through her problems, and mostly, I like who I am when I’m with her. I’ve never thought about those things before. This is all new to me. Is it love?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking you.”

  Beau started painting again. Obviously, Carson’s conversation was making him nervous. Whenever he couldn’t quite answer a question he busied himself with whatever was in front of him. “I’d say you have all the signs of a real growing affection for her.”

  “But is it love?”

  “Only you can say.”

  “At this point in my life, the only thing I can be certain of is that my sister Kayla needs to accept Jimmy’s love and marry him.”

  “Seems like we’ve been down that aisle before, and if I remember correctly, it didn’t work out too well. What makes you think it will work out this time?”

  “Have a little faith. I thought you had the market cornered on that one.”

  Father Beau chuckled. “Having faith in God is one thing. Having faith in you or one of your sisters is something else entirely.”

  They finished the last baseboard, stood and admired their handiwork. The windows were back in, the wall was painted, the baseboards sparkled, and the entire area looked better than it had when Carson had first moved in.

  “I had faith we could fix this wall well before Christmas, and we’re way ahead of schedule.”

  “Fixing a wall isn’t about faith, it’s about hard steady work. Getting your sister to say I do is a faith of an entirely different color.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sunday dinner at the Grant house was usually a chaotic event, with not only the immediate family; the two dogs, Dolly and Dora, greeting each new guest with a sniff and playful snort; but a few neighbors and friends always stopped in, as well. Carson’s mom didn’t like anyone she knew to be alone on Sunday night. According to her, Sunday was a day to show kindness to others, and ever since Carson could remember, that kindness meant setting a table for at least fifteen.

  With that simple truth in mind, Carson had asked Zoe to dinner, and to his complete delight she had accepted. Now as they sat next to each other at the table, with Beau sitting directly across from them next to Kayla, Carson relished how easily Zoe seemed to adjust to the chaos.

  “She’s a keeper,” his sister Callie whispered as she placed a bowl of steaming whipped Idaho potatoes on the table next to Carson. “She fits right in.”

  “Can I help?” Zoe asked Callie while pushing her chair back and standing.

  “No, thanks. You’re our guest. Just enjoy yourself,” Callie told her, then leaned over and whispered to Carson. “When was the last time your fiancée offered to help with anything?”

  Carson was about to defend Marilyn Rose as Zoe settled back into her chair, but decided to let it go, knowing perfectly well Callie had just cause.

  Callie went back into the kitchen just as Carson’s dad walked out carrying a large standing rib roast. His mom was close behind sporting a white plate that contained a baked whitefish dotted with herbs, butter and lemon. Homemade dinner rolls, an assortment of steamed veggies and a bowl filled with fingerling purple and white boiled potatoes already sat on the table. A thick square of farm-fresh butter sat on a round plate with a small knife sticking out of the top and a tureen of brown gravy had been placed directly in front of Kayla’s plate.

  Sal was there, with his new lady friend, Betty Green, the woman who had provided the Christmas wreath on Carson’s front door. They’d spent every day together since the party and had started clearing snow together. Ironically, Carson had come to enjoy his mornings with Sal and felt a bit neglected when Sal hadn’t shown up asking for help, but instead had taken his blower over to Betty’s house.

  “Thanks so much for inviting me. Your family is amazing,” Zoe sai
d as she leaned into Carson. He picked up the scent of her sweet perfume pulling him in even closer. At once, heat drenched his body and his muscles tensed. His heartbeat banged against his throat and he felt certain she could feel his reaction. He moved away, trying to control the primitive response he seemingly had no control over. The woman did things to him he’d never experienced before.

  “Amazing,” Carson repeated under the profusion of voices that echoed through the large dining room.

  The entire house smelled of pine from the enormous decorated tree in the living room, mixed with the scent of freshly baked apple pie that his mom was cooling on a kitchen counter. The wine was poured, both red and white, with milk and juice for the young teen boys who were seated next to Carson. They were from the M & M Riding School just outside town, owned and run by Colt and Helen Granger. Carson’s mom liked to invite some of the kids who had won Carson’s scholarships to the riding school for Sunday dinner. She knew he’d been negligent in his duties to the school ever since his rodeo accident, so she’d made sure his latest scholarship recipients were present at the table today. By now, he normally would have gotten to know everything about these two boys, but this was the first time he’d been to Sunday dinner in a couple months. He’d long since stopped going to the school.

  Now as he sat next to the boys who were obviously eager to get to know him, guilt soured his stomach for not having been a better mentor to them. Not knowing their names only intensified his growing guilt.

  “I’m Zoe Smart, a new guest at this table. Have you boys been here before?”

  And just like that, Zoe had eased the tension that was rapidly creeping up Carson’s spine.

  “No, ma’am. This is our first time,” the younger of the two boys said. His sandy-colored hair was parted and combed neatly to one side. He wore a Western long-sleeved blue shirt and jeans. His hands were spotless, and his face had been scrubbed clean. “I’m Jason, and this is Nathan.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Zoe said, smiling at the boys.

  “I can’t believe I’m sitting next to Carson Grant!” the older boy said with a lilt to his voice. He had thick rich brown hair, a smile that could warm the coldest of hearts, and seemed to have been scrubbed clean and made neat just like Jason. His dark blue sweater fit loosely over a black-checkered shirt. “I have a poster of you on a bucking horse pasted up to my ceiling. When I grow up, I want to be just like you.”