Christmas in Three Rivers: Three Rivers Ranch Romance Novella Collection

by Isaacson, Liz

  Now he just needed her to believe it too.

  He tilted his head toward the barn’s rafters. How do I make her believe it too?

  He’d been asking God the same question for months, and finally he’d had the idea to use her online shopping service to get her to talk to him. But now he didn’t know what else to say, and the Lord was silent on the matter as well.

  Andy drank in the warmth from Lawrence’s body, inhaled the spicy scent of his aftershave and the comforting smell of leather and horse that accompanied him everywhere. Something about leaning her head against his shoulder would be natural, but a layer of awkwardness existed between them as well.

  “You still have my number?” His question shattered the ice between them.

  Her stomach squirmed. What would he think if she said no? What would it imply if she said yes?

  She decided to be truthful. “Yes.”

  “Great,” he said, his tone unreadable. “Text me and let me know what you decide.” He flipped up the collar of his jacket, took the bag from her hand, and stepped into the downpour. “By this weekend would be nice,” he called over his shoulder as the rain concealed him in misty grayness.

  A keen sense of loss accompanied his absence, and Andy struggled to make sense of it. In the end, she turned back to the barn, reasoning away her feelings as a side effect of her lingering loneliness. She just missed her mother. Missed having days where the world felt right, like things made sense.

  Because nothing right now made sense. Lawrence shouldn’t have lured her out here. He shouldn’t be so happy to see her. He should be upset with her. The fact that he wasn’t ignited a fire in her belly she didn’t know what to do with.

  She wandered down the aisle in the barn, a bit startled when a horse nosed her on her way by. “Hey, there.” She stroked her hand down his nearly black cheeks, pleased with the serenity of the animal, the lazy way he closed his eyes halfway.

  The alarm on her phone went off, and Andy headed toward the exit. She knew she’d sit and visit with Carly, and she’d set the alarm to let her know when she needed to leave so she could get back to the boutique and open on time.

  The rain had let up a little bit—not enough to go traipsing around in, but enough for her to tiptoe-run to her car without much more damage to her shoes and slacks.

  The damage to her heart, however, seemed to multiply as she drove by the packed parking lot and found Lawrence leaning against one of the trucks, the rain dripping off his cowboy hat, watching her.

  The week passed, with one day blending into another. Andy swept her store, played lilting music, sold a handful of dresses to a few people. She expected a rush next week before Thanksgiving, and of course, on Black Friday. But the calm before the storm bought nothing but mind-numbing boredom.

  She used to play games on her phone, but having the device so close—with Lawrence’s number still programmed in and his invitation to Thanksgiving dinner ringing loudly in her ears—had proven dangerous.

  She’d had an acceptance text all typed out before she realized what it could mean. Or maybe it wouldn’t mean anything. Maybe she just didn’t want to roast her own turkey. Maybe spending time with a big group was just what she needed to get out of the slump she’d fallen into since she broke up with Lawrence and then lost her mother.

  On Friday afternoon, the bell on her door tinkled, bringing her attention from the fashion magazine spread before her. A smile bounced to her face.

  “Carly, hey.”

  “Okay, so you’re not mad at me.” The blonde woman strode toward her as best as she could in her high heels. “Because you haven’t called, or demanded payment for the clothes, or texted Lawrence about Thanksgiving.”

  Andy moved around the counter at the same time Carly arrived, and she embraced her friend. “I’m not mad.” She stepped back. “But I do need you to pay for the clothes.” She glanced at what Carly wore. “Oh, they look great on you. Spin.”

  Carly obliged, and satisfaction slipped through Andy at the exact fit of the skirt, the way the black and white stripes—with a green one every third line—slimmed Carly at the waist.

  Her friend pulled out her debit card. “So about Thanksgiving….”

  “I’m still thinking about it.” Andy started the transaction as a way to keep her hands and eyes busy.

  “It’s just one dinner,” Carly said. “There will be loads of people there. Kelly invited her parents. Kate and Brett are here from North Carolina while he builds Brynn Bowman’s facility.” Carly frowned faintly. “But I think they’re going to Oklahoma City to visit his family. But there will still be lots of people there.”

  “Sure,” Andy said, sliding the receipt across the counter. “So it’s not like Lawrence and I will be on a date.” She leaned her elbows on the counter. “But everyone will be staring at us. Wondering. Rumors will fly afterward.” This was Three Rivers, after all. Large enough to not know everyone, but small enough that everyone seemed to hear about everyone else’s business.

  “Who cares if they do?” Carly pushed the signed receipt back. “It’s Thanksgiving.” She put her hand on Andy’s. “Your first one without your mom. Come hang out with me. Just don’t stay here by yourself.”

  The barriers Andy kept employed around customers, around everyone, crumbled. She dropped her eyes to the counter, the cracks in her heart spreading as she let the hurt inside.

  “Okay,” she said.

  Carly squealed and tucked her card back into her wallet. “Okay, now text Lawrence and let him know. I promised him I wouldn’t badger you about coming.”

  Andy’s gaze flew to her friend’s. “But you are badgering me about coming.”

  “Shh.” Carly grinned. “Don’t tell him I stopped by.” She pulled on Andy’s hand until she moved around the counter. Carly tucked her elbow in Andy’s as they strolled toward the door. “You should see the poor guy. He’s moping all over the place, shooting dark glares at Reese like it’s his fault you haven’t texted. He eats lunch with me everyday. Just sits there, eating silently. At the end, when he gets up, he says, ‘Do you think she’ll come?’ It’s sad.”

  Honey flowed through Andy’s veins as she listened to Carly tell her about Lawrence’s behavior. “What do you tell him when he asks?”

  “I tell him I’m sure you’ll come. That you don’t really want to be alone, here in your loft, with a turkey dinner for one.” They reached the door, and Carly dropped Andy’s arm. “Now don’t make a liar out of me.”

  Andy promised Carly she wouldn’t, said goodbye, and returned to the counter. She’d left her phone upstairs in her loft and the shop wasn’t set to close for another hour. She glanced toward the boutique’s entrance, then to the stairs leading to her loft.

  She strode toward the door, flipped the open sign to closed and dashed up the steps to retrieve her cell, knowing if she waited, she’d talk herself out of texting Lawrence, out of closing early, out of going to Thanksgiving dinner completely.

  Lawrence’s phone went off at the exact moment Gwen walked into the barn. Frustrated and curious and unwilling to get in trouble for texting while with a client, he didn’t remove it from his pocket.

  He hugged Gwen instead, glad he’d made the right choice as Pete started across the road. “Hey, Gwen,” he said. “After you ride, Reese wants to see you in the office. I guess Carly found something you can put on your medical forms.”

  “Sure thing.” She smiled at him. Pete tipped his hat to them both and continued through the barn and into the outdoor arena, where another client rode.

  Lawrence took Gwen to the tack room. “Who do you want today?”

  “Who needs the exercise?” She pulled down a saddle and gathered a blanket from the cabinet.

  “Raven hasn’t been ridden yet today. Neither has Hank. Or you could go with Chocolate. I know you like him.”

  She chuckled and finished collecting her supplies. “I do like Chocolate.”

  “Chocolate it is.” Lawrence waited for her to
go first, his first instinct to reach for his phone and just see if Andy had texted. He chastised himself for even thinking it could be her. She hadn’t messaged once this week, though she’d admitted she still had his number. He couldn’t lie; knowing she hadn’t deleted his number from her phone when she’d removed him from her life had made him happier than he’d been in months.

  It meant he still had a chance.

  Her days of silence spoke a different story, but Lawrence refused to listen to it.

  He couldn’t take another moment of not knowing who’d texted. As Gwen saddled Chocolate, Lawrence pulled his phone from his back pocket. A quick swipe, a fast glance.

  Andy.

  His heart softened into a puddle as a grin graced his face. She’d texted. He stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He could wait an hour to see what she said. At least she’d texted.

  Coaching Gwen through what to do became easy after he’d checked his phone. He found he could think about something besides Andy, besides stalking into Carly’s office and silently begging her to reassure him he hadn’t ruined any and every chance with Andy by ordering those clothes.

  He enjoyed his time in the arena for the first time in a week. Gwen accompanied him back to the building, where Reese sat with his head bent over something at his desk.

  “Carly said she had something for Miss Gwen,” Lawrence said.

  Reese glanced up, his eyes glazed. He blinked. “Oh, yeah.” He shuffled some papers around on the desk. “She said your insurance company was giving you trouble about the sessions. She said this code should cover it.”

  Gwen took the papers with a smile. “Thanks. Is she here?”

  “No, she had to run into town for a few minutes.” Reese glanced at Lawrence, which caused his throat to tighten. Carly had gone to town?

  And Andy had texted.

  Lawrence clenched his jaw, determined to keep his comments to himself until Gwen had left.

  “Well, tell her thanks for me.” Gwen said before she limped toward the exit.

  “There’s a number on there,” Reese called after her. “If they give you any trouble, Carly said to give them that number.”

  Gwen paused at the door, peering at the papers. “Great. Thanks, Reese.” She pushed out the door, and Lawrence waited until it settled closed.

  “She went to talk to Andy, didn’t she?” he asked Reese.

  The cowboy blinked. “I don’t exactly know.” He slid back in his seat, his expression neutral.

  Lawrence appreciated Reese, had always liked him. “I know she did. She promised me she wouldn’t.”

  “Sometimes women just need an extra push,” Reese said, standing and stretching his back. “Who didn’t get ridden today? I have to wait for Carly to come back, and I can’t stand bein’ at this desk for another second.” He studied Lawrence. “You wanna join me?”

  “Raven and Hank.” Lawrence looked out of the front of the building, made entirely of windows. “And a horseback ride sounds great. Can we get out of the arena, though? Maybe go out on the range a ways?”

  “Not far,” Reese said. “I’m tired. It’s been a busy week.”

  “No, not far,” Lawrence agreed. But he wanted to go really far. Maybe far enough to escape everyone and figure out what to do next. “I’ll meet you over there.” He pulled out his phone to properly read Andy’s text.

  Lawrence, it’s Andy. I’d like to come to Thanksgiving dinner out at the ranch, if the invitation is still available.

  Smiling because she felt like she needed to identify herself—as if he’d purged her number from his phone—he tapped out a response. It’s still available. Chelsea is hosting this year.

  He wanted to add so much more, but he stilled his fingers and waited for her to text back. When she didn’t, he sent, Lunch will be served at 1 pm on Thanksgiving Day. You can come anytime that morning. Stay as late as you want.

  He gave her a few more seconds, then stuffed his phone in his back pocket and headed out to the horse barn. Maybe if he rode far enough, he’d be out of cell phone range and he wouldn’t have to obsessively check his messages. But he’d never get her sweet voice telling him she was wrong out of his head.

  Andy changed her clothes at least four times on Thanksgiving Day, unsure of what one wore to a dinner party.

  “It’s not a dinner party,” she told herself as she headed downstairs to find something from the boutique. “It’s lunch on a ranch. Black tie is not necessary.”

  She wanted to look cute, but casual. Friendly, but not flirty. Touchable, but textured. She pushed hangers holding sweaters and jackets to the side, searching for the right thing. She was sure she’d seen it come through the storeroom, she just didn’t know what it was. Yet.

  Andy glanced toward where she kept the extra inventory, remembering the first time she’d let Lawrence come back there with her. Her hand drifted toward her lips, lightly touching them before shaking herself out of the trance and focusing back on the clothing racks.

  Her eyes caught the black and white striped blouse with the third green stripe. She called Carly. “What are you wearing to lunch today?”

  Carly laughed. “Oh, girl. Are you that worried about it?”

  Andy fingered the silky cotton. “No,” she scoffed though her insides were rioting. “I was thinking of wearing that blouse you bought. Don’t want to be twinsies though.”

  “I’m not wearing that.”

  “What are you wearing?”

  “Jeans and that brick red peasant shirt you sold me last month.”

  “I’ve never seen you actually wear jeans.” Andy paused in her clothing perusal and cocked her head to the side, as if she could detect Carly’s lie that way.

  “They’re denim,” she defended.

  “Jeggings? That peasant shirt was really long, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, okay. There’re jeggings.” A beat of silence passed. “Am I too old for jeggings?”

  Andy laughed. “No, Carly, you’re not too old for jeggings.” But she would be more dressed up than Andy in such an outfit. She pulled the blouse off the hanger and headed for the stairs as she said goodbye to her friend.

  “Maybe I have a skirt that would look good with this….”

  A half hour later, she was in danger of being late. She didn’t want to arrive too early, but in enough time to mingle and thank Chelsea and Kelly for having her. Half her wardrobe littered her bed, and she’d settled on a pair of faux leather pants to go with the blouse. Her makeup done just-so, and her hair in a crown braid, she finally felt ready to leave the loft.

  Lawrence had said she didn’t need to bring anything, but she’d run by the bakery and picked up a couple loaves of pumpkin bread anyway. She couldn’t show up empty handed.

  Nerves assaulted her the entire way out to Three Rivers Ranch. Only a couple of cars sat in Chelsea’s driveway, and Andy pulled into the parking lot of Courage Reins. Then she could leave whenever she wanted to.

  She gripped the bread like a shield as she walked to the door. She didn’t need to knock. Lawrence leaned in the doorway as she ascended the steps.

  “Hey.” He reached for the bread. “I said you didn’t have to bring anything.”

  “I know,” she said. “I wanted to, though.”

  He didn’t move out of the way, and the space to slip by seemed impossibly small for her to navigate.

  “You look fantastic.” He scanned her from head to toe and back before offering her his arm. “C’mon in.”

  Inside the house, warmth radiated from every wall, every person. Chelsea stood in the kitchen with Kelly, as well as Heidi Ackerman. The two of them seemed to be getting a lesson from Heidi about something. Another older couple—Kelly’s parents—sat on the couch talking with Frank Ackerman.

  Lawrence introduced Andy, though Ivory Armstrong had been her third grade teacher.

  “So good to see you.” Ivory got up from the couch and hugged her. “How’s things since your momma passed?”

  Heat gathered beh
ind Andy’s eyes, but she willed it away. She’d spent too much time perfecting her makeup to cry now. “I’m okay,” she said honestly. “More lonely than anything else.” At that moment, she remembered how close Lawrence lingered. His eyes hooked hers, a sense of determination darting across his face.

  Mrs. Armstrong patted her hand, and a sense of understanding passed between them. Andy smiled at her, then leaned in and hugged her. “Thanks, Mrs. Armstrong.”

  “I’ve told you for years. Call me Ivory.”

  Gratitude welled in the back of her throat. “I just keep trying, and I can’t.” As she moved away from the living room, she offered up a prayer.

  Thank you for getting me out here today. She pressed her eyes closed, the same words bobbing against her vocal chords. She stretched up and said, “Thank you, Lawrence.”

  It wasn’t exactly the same as her prayer, but she spoke it with just as much sincere emotion.

  He brushed his lips along her forehead, a whisper of a touch. But it ignited a fire along her skin that trailed down into her belly.

  “Andy brought bread,” he told the ladies in the kitchen, and Chelsea turned.

  “Andy.” She embraced Andy, and another sigh radiated through her body. When she’d broke things off with Lawrence, she’d lost several of her friends too. Namely these women out here at Three Rivers. They didn’t get to town much, and she didn’t come to the ranch very often, so their socializing had dwindled to the picnic after church.

  She glanced between Andy and Lawrence. “Which one of you wants to take over making the gravy?”

  Andy stepped forward. “If you trust him in the kitchen, we’ll be heading to town to find an open Chinese restaurant.”

  Lawrence laughed and Chelsea joined in. “Well, my mother has great cooking lessons, Lawrence.” She nudged him. “And we all know the way to a woman’s heart is through a homecooked meal.”

  Some of the joy flowing through Andy turned to ash, but Lawrence kept his smile hitched in place. “I thought it was the other way around, Miss Chelsea.”