Her Mistletoe Cowboy

by Alissa Callen

  Warm air played across the bare skin above his belt buckle as he lifted his arms to tie on the ribbon. When tying the balls in the kitchen, his green plaid shirt had worked itself free from the waistband of his jeans. And now he no longer wore his jacket, he could feel the rush of air. He glanced at Ivy who stared at the fire even though she held a second ornament toward him. She hadn’t appeared to notice his state of undress and there was no point tucking his shirt in, it would only come loose.

  He reached for the white ball she held. As he stretched to tie the ribbon to the light, instead of rummaging in the box for the next ball, Ivy placed the ornament box on the floor.

  “Are you all right without me?” She briefly met his gaze. “The last light to decorate is in the formal dining room off the foyer. I must check on Milly and it’s time for the cinnamon rolls to come out of the oven.”

  “Sure.”

  And before he could fully assess her expression, she quit the room as though a mountain lion was after her.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  The kitchen window creaked as Ivy pushed the pane open to allow icy air to wash over her face.

  She closed her eyes against the sting of cold and inhaled the scent of wood smoke. She had no idea where Milly was or what havoc she was causing but before she checked, she needed to strip the telltale flush from her cheeks.

  What was wrong with her? Luckily, she’d never run a board meeting sitting next to Rhett because if she had, her work colleagues would never call her ‘The Ice Princess’ again. When she was around Rhett she was about as cool and collected as gelato in a heat wave.

  When Rhett’s shirt had pulled free while he’d tied the third kitchen ornament she’d been able to look away. So what if above his silver belt buckle he had washboard abs and skin that looked golden despite the season. It would be okay; she could stand near him and remain immune. She’d never been a woman governed by passion. She’d always appreciated James’ lack of affection and his practicality. After their usual Sunday date-night they’d never linger in each other’s arms knowing they had work to prepare for the upcoming week.

  But when Rhett had lifted his arms to tie the fourth ornament, it had been harder to look away, let alone remember she wasn’t a slave to her hormones. By the seventh ornament she had her hands locked around the box to stop them sliding beneath his green plaid shirt and over the toned ridges that would reach all the way to the curve of his muscled shoulders.

  When they’d moved to the living room, she’d averted her gaze by staring at the fire. But by now he’d taken off his jacket and when he stretched to secure the first living room ball she’d had an unimpeded view of the work-honed perfection above his belt. She’d lasted one more decoration before she had to bolt.

  She opened her eyes, fanned her face with her hand and shut the window. Yes, Rhett was hot and she was only human. But that was no excuse to lose sight of why she was in Montana. She had a heart to patch up and a career plan to devise. She hadn’t come to Marietta to allow physical attraction to sabotage her plans to hit the ground running once the festive season ended.

  Growling sounded from the dining room, followed by the soft pad of Rhett’s socked feet. Ivy grabbed the oven mitt and opened the oven door. She’d take the rolls out, offer Rhett a coffee and act like the mature and responsible adult she was.

  Rhett entered the kitchen holding Milly in the crook of his arm.

  “Ornaments are all attached to the lights even though there was an ownership dispute over the last ball.”

  There was no reason why the white flash of his grin should return all the warmth the cold wind had removed from her cheeks.

  “When it comes to ornaments, Miss Milly thinks they are all hers. She’s amassed quite a stash near her bed.” Ivy closed the distance between them to tickle the pup’s tiny head. “But judging by that doggy yawn, all ornaments will soon be safe. It’s nap time.”

  Rhett lifted Milly so he could see her little face. She yawned again. And as Rhett smiled, in his face Ivy could see the gentleness and affection she’d seen him show the horse on the afternoon she’d arrived.

  “You really are quite cute, Miss Milly,” he said with a deep chuckle, “when you’re not trying to eat my toes.”

  One day Rhett would make a devoted father. Her eyes traced the strong line of his jaw. And a loving and faithful husband.

  She swung away to look in a cupboard for a jug to make the cinnamon glaze. Trinity had said not to let James’ duplicity make her wary. But a stab of pain reinforced the fact that she’d be a fool to risk trusting someone again, even if that someone were the sweetheart Trinity said he was.

  “How about you put Milly in her bed in the corner,” she said over her shoulder, praying her voice emerged normal and not strained, “and I’ll finish off these rolls.”

  “Will do.”

  She set about making the thick white glaze as Rhett carried Milly to her snug bed around which chew toys and decorations were scattered. When the rolls were iced, she reached into a high cupboard for two coffee mugs.

  “Ivy.”

  The gravity of his tone had her turn around, her hands empty.

  “I won’t stay for coffee.”

  Grooves were etched beside his mouth.

  “You won’t?”

  “No. I’ve firewood to split.” His gaze strayed toward the cinnamon rolls.

  “Are you sure? I need someone to help me eat these rolls.” She inclined her head toward twin towers of full containers that sat on the bench below the kitchen window. “Trinity and Henry already have plenty of Christmas treats and the rolls are best eaten fresh.”

  “My … Mom used to freeze any leftovers. Not that there would be many spare as we all loved her cinnamon rolls.”

  Ivy’s heart clenched. She knew why Rhett didn’t want to stay. The rolls and the scent of cinnamon filling the kitchen would remind him of his mother.

  “Rhett, I’m sorry about your mom.”

  The desolation she’d witnessed on the night she’d stayed in his cabin returned to dull the blue of his eyes. He dug his hands into his jeans pockets.

  “Thanks.”

  “Please, stay for a coffee. We don’t need to have the rolls.”

  He took a long moment to answer. “Okay and I’d actually enjoy a roll. I haven’t had one for a … while.”

  “Great. Make sure you don’t stop at one.” She turned to the cupboard to hide the relief he wasn’t leaving. For some reason the fact he’d chosen to stay, touched her.

  While she poured the coffees, Rhett collected the chair from the dining room he’d used to stand on to hang the balls. Soon they were seated on opposite sides of the kitchen bench, a plate of still warm cinnamon rolls between them.

  “This will be lunch,” Rhett said, with a sheepish grin as he took a second roll.

  “Eat up. The less left the better. There’s only Milly and me to finish them.”

  He glanced at the garlands draped on the top of the white kitchen cupboards. When his eyes met hers, they were solemn.

  “Ivy, you don’t have to spend Christmas day alone. Why don’t you come and spend it with my family at Bluebell Falls Ranch? My sisters are going to attempt to cook a turkey. It won’t be a long day as I’m not staying past lunch.”

  Even before he’d finished speaking, she shook her head. “Thanks, that’s very kind of you but I don’t want to intrude.”

  “You wouldn’t.” He stopped and rubbed the back of his neck. “You actually would be a … distraction and believe me would be welcome.”

  “I couldn’t. It’s your family’s first Christmas without your mother.”

  “Let just say missing my mother isn’t the only reason I won’t be spending the entire day with my family.” Before she could ponder the bleakness in his eyes, he spoke. “Are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

  She blinked at the sudden conversation u-turn. “Tomorrow night?”

  “Yes.”

  “That depe
nds.” Caution slowed her words. Where was his question leading? They might both need someone to talk to but things had to remain casual between them. He had a ranch to run and she had a city life to return to.

  His lips twitched. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking you out on a date.”

  She didn’t know if the warmth that filled her cheeks was from Rhett noticing her uncertainty or the trip in her pulse rate at the thought of how a date with Rhett might end.

  “It’s okay. That’s not what I thought. I was just surprised at your question as I know you’re busy and I really did come here to be by myself.”

  He nodded. “It’s just that I’m heading into town late afternoon for the final Santa’s Workshop and thought you might like to come?”

  “Santa’s Workshop?”

  “Yes, once a week volunteers meet at the recreation center to restore a collection of handmade Christmas decorations left to the town by an old toymaker who lived in Bramble Lane. It was a local tradition to see his Christmas lights and lawn ornaments and people would drive over from Bozeman.” Rhett paused and looked into his coffee. “My mom used to take us every year, so when the call went out to get the collection ready for its new home in Community Park, my sisters and I volunteered.”

  Ivy didn’t know if it was the rasp in his voice when he mentioned his mother or her own loss prickling behind her lids, but she knew a quiet night in tomorrow with Milly wasn’t going to happen. She spoke before her self-control could argue its case against what she was about to say.

  “If there are Christmas decorations involved, I’d love to come.”

  *

  This isn’t a date.

  But even as the thought stirred, another thought filled Rhett’s head. A dangerous thought that had him wish he was taking the beautiful woman beside him to an intimate booth in Grey’s Salon and not to a well-lit and busy recreation center room.

  “So I finally get to meet your two sisters,” Ivy said with a smile as she walked through the recreation center door he held open for her.

  He caught the fresh scent of vanilla that now lingered in his pickup cabin. After tonight, it was going to be a struggle to sit in the driver’s seat without picturing Ivy, a white beanie on her brown hair and a red coat hugging her curves, snuggled into the passenger seat, smiling at him.

  “Sorry to disappoint you.” He fell into step beside her as they traversed the hallway. “But Peta won’t be in, she has a sick mare and Kendall …” He stopped to ensure his expression remained unchanging. “For various reasons, Kendall will be late.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “But Henry will be here and you can give him his basket of Christmas goodies.”

  Rhett glanced at the laden basket she carried and had refused to let him take from her.

  Ivy nodded. “It will be so lovely to see him again.”

  Rhett stopped outside a door. The murmur of talk sounded from behind the wood. He hesitated, strangely wanting to prolong standing in the quiet hallway where it was just him and Ivy. Once the door opened and Ivy stepped into the makeshift workshop, he’d be lucky to see her again. He’d give town gossip, Carol Bingley, ten seconds until she made a beeline for the stunning out-of-towner. As for any hot-blooded and single cowboys, he prayed Brad and Nick Ryan had been snowed in.

  He reached for the doorknob. But he had no reason to linger or feel protective. Ivy wasn’t his girl. He might be distracted but he still had no time for a relationship. After allowing fear and grief to throw him off course, he had to prove to himself, his family and to the town that he had changed. No longer did he make rash, selfish and poor choices. He had a ranch to turn into a viable business to show he was responsible, worked hard and was no longer an indulged only son.

  He pushed open the door to reveal organized chaos. Plastic-covered trestle tables were filled with large and small ornaments. At some tables volunteers worked as pairs painting, while at others a single volunteer worked alone. In less than a week the 30th Annual Marietta Christmas Stroll would be taking place and the collection needed to be show-ready for its debut in Community Park. Which reminded him, he needed to purchase $3 Stroll buttons from the Main Street Diner next town visit.

  He cupped Ivy’s elbow and guided her to the left. Thankfully there were no signs of the Ryan brothers. The smell of paint and glue became overlaid by the fragrant smell of Christmas fare as they approached the table aligned against the sidewall. Ivy had barely set a gingerbread-filled container from her basket on the table when Carol Bingley, wearing a delighted smile, headed their way.

  This time his touch on Ivy’s elbow was firm as he turned her away from the table.

  “Just smile,” he said, in an undertone, “and walk very fast over to where Henry is in the far corner. He hasn’t seen you come in yet. I’ll run interference.”

  He released her elbow. Understanding replaced the questions in her hazel eyes. To their right, Carol Bingley, short arms pumping, was descending upon them as fast as her sturdy legs could move.

  “Good luck,” Ivy said with quick grin before she wove her way through the tables to her grandfather’s childhood friend.

  Rhett strode to the other side of the room where he could see Payton working.

  She greeted him with a wink. “Slick move, cowboy, but it wouldn’t have been enough to stop Carol from quizzing you. You can thank your Montana stars you have friends who have your back.”

  Rhett turned to see dark-haired Selah Davis loop her arm through Carol’s, and steer her in the opposite direction to where Rhett stood. Wedding rumors about Selah and Levi Monroe’s upcoming nuptials were rife and Carol would consider getting a scoop on any wedding news a priority over Rhett’s love life.

  “Tell Selah, I owe her. And next time I see Levi, I’m buying him not one, but two drinks. Last conversation I had with Carol I swear I was grilled more than a steak on a barbeque.”

  Payton laughed. “You’ve dropped off the social radar and now arrive with a beautiful stranger I don’t even know about. It won’t only be Carol who is curious. So spill. Who is she?”

  Rhett dipped a brush in brown paint. Payton was working on a cowboy elf whose wide-brimmed hat needed a fresh coat of color. “Less talk and more work, Miss Bossy Beargrass.”

  “You might have been able to distract me in school by calling me names but it doesn’t work anymore.”

  “True but it was worth a try.” He sighed. “Her name is Ivy and she bought the main Rose Crown ranch house.”

  “Interesting. So you’re just doing the neighborly thing showing her around?”

  “That’s right.” Rhett concentrated on painting the elf’s hat and not on Payton’s broadening smile. “She happens to like Christmas decorations.”

  “And she also happens to be gorgeous without a single ring on her fingers.” Seriousness diluted the amusement in her gaze. “Rhett, I’m worried about you. Cordell and I never see you anymore, all you do is work.”

  “I’m fine. I need to get the ranch ready for when the cattle I’m buying from Ethan arrive. I don’t think there’s a single fence that doesn’t need fixing. As for the barn …” Ivy’s laughter sounded and he paused to check where she was. Still over with Henry, she too had a paintbrush in her hand as she and Henry returned life to a faded knee-high reindeer.

  He glanced at Payton and was surprised to see wonder widening her amber eyes. “Rhett Dixon, are you smitten with your new neighbor?”

  He frowned and fought the heat flooding his face. “What? No. Of course not. It turns out our families were once friends so I’m just keeping an eye on her.”

  “Yeah right. And I like wearing dresses.”

  “Seriously, Pay, it’s not like that. This year Ivy lost both the grandparents who raised her and, I mean look at her, there has to be a man lurking somewhere despite her not wearing a ring. She’s vulnerable and the last thing she needs is any complications.”

  “I know a long list of single cowgirls who would never call you a complication.�
�

  He again dipped his paintbrush in brown paint. “And you also know I have a ranch to start from scratch and a promise to keep.”

  “And how’s that promise to your mom coming along?”

  “As good as can be expected.” He straightened and forced a smile. “But it’s Christmas, the season of miracles, so who knows, when I see you next I might have made progress. Dad and I might be able to be in the same room for longer than five minutes.”

  “Rhett,” Payton’s tone was low. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. The past is exactly that. The past. Remember what I said when you were in hospital after you tried to ride Mossy drunk.” She placed a hand on his denim jacket sleeve. “Just be true to yourself.”

  “How could I forget being in hospital? My knee is a constant reminder.” Bitterness grated in his voice. “There never was a fool greater than me.”

  Her grip on his forearm tightened. “Rhett, you are no fool. We all deal with fear and grief in different ways.” Her gaze flicked past him and when she removed her hand from his arm he knew Ivy must be near.

  He turned toward the scent of vanilla as Ivy came to his side. He thought he caught a flash of wariness in her gaze as she stared at Payton, but then her lips curved.

  “Ivy, this is an old friend, Payton, and Payton, this is Ivy.”

  Payton stepped forward, a paintbrush in one hand and her other hand outstretched. “Welcome to Marietta, Ivy. Even in winter it’s a beautiful part of Montana. I hope Rhett has prized himself away from fixing his barn to show you around.”

  Rhett released the breath he’d been holding. He didn’t know why it mattered so much that Payton warmed to Ivy.

  Ivy shook the cowgirl’s hand. “Thanks. Yes, he has. Who knew he’d be so handy tying curling ribbon?”

  Payton arched a dark brow. “All these years and you never told me you had hidden talents?”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a cowboy and have many hidden talents.”

  “Well, cowboy,” Payton said, her grin mischievous, “maybe your hidden talents can extend to you hosting a house warming bonfire? Cordell and I still haven’t officially been invited to Little Rose Crown yet.”