A Cowboy To Keep: A Contemporary Western Romance Collection

by Hebby Roman

  “Look, there’s Saks! Let’s get over and see their windows. You’ll love it.”

  Chay doubted he would love anything at this point other than getting home into the warmth and relative quiet of their apartment, but he let K.C. lead him across the street and get into the line to see the Saks Fifth Avenue windows at their leisure. ‘Land of One Thousand Delights’ did not delight him in the least. Mannequins in strange postures no ordinary woman would pose. A fantasy of pink Barbie doll creatures in Wonderlands of candy canes along with other-worldly figures. He didn’t get it. He didn’t get any of it: why people would suffer this crush, this swarming mass of people, when they could be out in the open somewhere or at home. He put his arm around K.C. and pulled her close.

  “You’re hating this, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “Hate is a very strong word,” he mumbled. “But I don’t find much joy in all this. Do you?” It was a genuine question. He was curious if she was really enjoying herself.

  K.C. didn’t answer except to say, “Let’s go get in the line to skate at Rockefeller Center.”

  Having pushed their way to the corner, crossed the street and got to the line for the skating rink, K.C. left Chay to hold their place so she could ask what the cost would be. He took in the scene and tried to enjoy it: the skaters below doing their pirouettes or figure-eights; the towering buildings reflecting each other; the children running about with rosy, excited faces; the golden flags waving and planted trees decorated with lights; and above it all, the Christmas tree, a goliath of multi-colored lights topped by a star. It was all too much, too much commotion and hubbub, too much noise.

  K.C. came back with a downcast look to a stomping Chay trying to stay warm.

  “What? What now?” he asked.

  She tutted and sighed. “Thirty-two dollars to get in, twelve dollars to rent skates.”

  Chay stared at her in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding. How much money are they making? Maybe I should open a skating rink on my frozen tanks back home. Geesh. I’m not going to—”

  “No, no. Let’s go…somewhere we can get a hot chocolate and warm up.”

  “Yeah, and I know just the place.” Chay grabbed her hand and pushed back through the crowd.

  “Home?”

  “Home.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? It isn’t your fault.”

  “I thought…I thought it was going to be such fun, the windows and the skating, and the—”

  “Crowds?”

  “Well. I didn’t know it was going to be this bad.” She peered over her shoulder at the golden statue that graced Rockefeller Center, and the tree. “Oh, gosh, Chay! You hardly saw the tree!”

  “I saw it. Great. Big, and lots of lights and things. Maybe nice at night, though.”

  K.C. stopped in her tracks and swiveled to him. “Nice at night? Nice at night? That’s all you have to say about the Rockefeller Center Tree—the most famous Christmas tree, like, in all the world?”

  He stared at her and grimaced, shoving his hands in his pockets. “K.C., it was lovely. I see pine trees outside my window all year. I like them in their natural state, like in Wyoming. Up mountains, by lakes, with elk or moose underneath. I never did like the idea of putting silly little baubles on them, trinkets, or angels at the top. What’s the point?”

  “What’s the point? Chay, it’s Christmas. It’s a Christmas tradition. Didn’t you ever have a Christmas tree in your home?”

  “Yeah, I did. I decorated it with home-made things I could make when I was little. My mother showed me how to make cut-out paper chains, and popcorn garlands and stuff. All that glitz, I think, it’s sort of stupid, isn’t it? Spending money on crap, buying things. Taking something from nature and dressing it up like that?”

  “It’s Christmas!”

  “Yeah. I got that. It’s Christmas.” Someone pushed him from behind and anger flared across his face like wildfire down a hillside. “I thought we were going home for hot chocolate.”

  K.C. stared at him as if she were seeing a different person, a person she didn’t know. “Where’s your Christmas spirit,” she asked in a voice so hurt, he thought she was pleading.

  “Christmas spirit is maybe different to different people. I find the crowds—”

  “All right, I understand!” She jerked her arm free and walked on at a quicker pace. “Christmas spirit is different to different people.”

  Chay stopped for a moment, lost in the crowd, keeping an eye on her retreating back. “Yes,” he said to himself. “Christmas is certainly different to different people. And we were different people in Wyoming.”

  * * *

  They opened the door to discover Daphne hadn’t left for the weekend; she was with two friends, one sprawled on the sofa, her feet on the lap of another who was stuffed into the corner, while Daphne lay on the floor with a joint in her hand. K.C. stopped short at the door so Chay almost ran into her. A sickening, sweet smell, with a top note of skunk, reached her nostrils as the family upstairs thumped around, pulling what sounded like a steel chair across their tiled floor. Chay put a hand to his head, oozing disbelief, aggravation.

  “Daphne.” K.C. entered in slow steps and began to remove her outer garments. “We thought you’d gone home for the weekend.”

  “Hoped I’d gone home for the weekend, you mean. No, no, I’m here.” She smirked, waving the joint toward her two friends on the sofa. “You know Katie and Louise, don’t you?”

  K.C. nodded with a soft “hello.”

  “And that’s Chay,” Daphne continued, “K.C.’s boyfriend, our roomie.” She lay back on one elbow, took a toke, holding it before blowing it out in one long dragon-like puff. “Want some, Chay sweetie?”

  Chay looked through the haze of blue smoke that filled the room, squinting at Daphne as if he were giving her the evil eye, deciphering exactly who or what she was. Still wearing his coat, he stomped through to the master bedroom and slammed the door.

  “We agreed,” K.C. began in a measured voice, low but determined to make her point. “We agreed, Daphne,” she said somewhat louder, “there would be no weed in the apartment. You said—”

  “I don’t give a shit what I said, K.C.” She struggled to sit up and jabbed the remains of the joint out in a nearby dish. “You said, you said Chay would be quiet, and since we didn’t have to share a bathroom here it wouldn’t matter, he wouldn’t be in my way. Well, guess what? He is in my way. He wakes me every single night he comes in late when I happen to have early class the next day; he leaves a mess in the kitchen which, guess what, we have one of, and he is rude to me whenever we are left alone.”

  “That is just not true and you know it! Chay’s amazingly considerate and responsible, and he always cleans up in the kitchen. For heaven’s sake, he cleans up after me. He goes to ridiculous lengths not to make any noise when he comes in at night; I don’t even know he’s come in until he appears in the bedroom, how is it possible he could be waking you?”

  “Well, he does.” Daphne looked to her two friends for support but they seemed to be somnolent and uninterested in the ongoing argument. “I honestly think, K.C., really, for us to remain friends, you and Chay ought to move out, find somewhere else. You offered to do that a while ago and I now think it’s best. I want to live the way I want to live, and you can live the way you guys want to live. Since my name is on the lease, I’m afraid it’s you two who’ll have to go.”

  “For us to remain friends?” K.C. stood there, a finger of fear jabbing her in the stomach. What should have been a fun day, with Christmas festivities and, she had hoped, having the apartment alone with Chay so there’d be no worries about disturbing Daphne with their love-making, which was the high note on which she had envisioned ending the day, the day had turned into a nightmare.

  “I’ll see what we can find, when we can house hunt. And it won’t be before Christmas.” She straightened the coat bundled on her arm and took her time walking into the bedroom.

>   Chay lay spread out on the bed, fully clothed, legs crossed, boots still on, arms locked behind his head. His coat, scarf, and hat were dropped on the floor.

  K.C. clicked the door shut behind her and stood staring at him, not knowing where to start. “You heard?”

  “I heard.” He pulled his knees in, hugging them and then, as if just now realizing his boots were still on, he swung his legs off the bed. “Shall we report her to the police for having marijuana on the premises?” He turned to look at K.C., his smirk belying the jest behind his words.

  “You’re not serious.”

  “No,” he said, getting to his feet and going to her. “But it’s a nice idea. Pay-back.” He pulled K.C. into his arms and rested his chin on her head. “She really is a bitch. How in heaven’s name did you ever get friendly with her?”

  “Oh, you know…we were in the same classes in college as undergrads, had a few laughs, went out to parties together, and just became friends. You know how it is.”

  He pulled away, his hands still gripping her arms. “No, K.C., I don’t know how it is. I haven’t been to college, haven’t found something in common with people who smoke weed, who lie about others, make false accusations like that.”

  K.C. snapped away, throwing her coat on the bed. “Well, excuse me. I didn’t know I was sleeping with someone so perfect, almost holy.”

  “You want to have an argument over this? I had to listen to that crap; I’ve put up with her nasty lies and insinuations and garbage while you’re not here during the day. And now you want to take her side?”

  “Geesh, Chay! I am not taking her side in anything! I was simply explaining how I became friends with someone you don’t like.”

  “Maybe you are a really bad judge of character. Maybe that’s why you went out with Jamie.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She thought back to the terrible evening with Jamie at his ranch, how he had got her to the empty house under pretense of giving her dinner and tried to rape her by drugging her. If she hadn’t run out, and flagged down Chay, who happened to be heading back to the Lazy S from his own ranch, the ending could have been a whole lot different—could have been deadly. She shivered at the thought. “I went out with Jamie because he seemed nice. I’d been warned about you. We’ve gone through all this. Both Breezy and Dakota told me you were a ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ type and to stay away from you.”

  Chay plunked down on the foot of the bed and sighed. “And I was. Until I met you.”

  She knew him well enough now to see the wheels of his mind working, how uncomplicated his life used to be, how being single was so much easier than taking into consideration the feelings and needs of another person, how being selfish just made everything so simple with no one else to consider.

  K.C. dropped down beside him and took his hand in hers, playing with it, spreading out his fingers before entwining with them. “Not so calloused as they used to be.”

  “No.” He grimaced. “You’re going to make a softie of me if I stay here.”

  For a second she considered the words, ‘if I stay here’ but let it go. The first real smile of the day filled K.C.’s face and lit up her eyes as she pulled her hand free and caressed his crotch. “Not quite a softie!”

  And then his phone rang.

  He reached into his coat pocket and pulled it out, glanced at the screen with a question filling his face.

  “Breezy! What’s up?”

  “I’d like to say I’m ringing with good cheer and Christmas wishes from everyone here, Chay, but unfortunately that’s not the case.”

  “Shit. What?”

  “Well….”

  Chapter Seven

  The reluctance in Breezy’s voice was obvious; Chay waited for her to continue, dread chilling him like some internal iceberg floating through his veins.

  “I went to collect your mail as usual and you received a letter from the Department of Transport.”

  “The D.O.T? What the hell do they want?”

  “Your land.”

  Her voice was blunt and solemn. It took Chay a minute to digest what she was saying.

  “My land? I don’t understand.”

  “Chay, they want a corner of your westernmost section, the part that, if you came down off highway twenty-two past the Bantries’ place—which they also want a slice of—the road would come through you.”

  “But why?” The whole thing was just not making sense, and after the day he had just had, Chay couldn’t think straight. He was trying to envision the layout of his property in relation to the road.

  “Well. The letter says it’s in order to give better access to the ranches and properties situated in the triangle between Jackson, Wilson, and the airport. Of course, if you believe that, you’ll believe anything. I reckon they have further development in mind and have some ideas from the big boys with money. But that’s just my take. You want me to read you the whole letter?”

  “No, not really; does it say much more?”

  “Well, that’s about it. You know they’re doing a big development beyond the Elk Refuge.”

  “Geesh, yes. Well….” Chay started pacing, noticing K.C.’s worried look. Her smile had faded and she looked like she was going to weep any moment with what she was hearing.

  “Look. I actually—well, you actually—got this letter a few days ago and I didn’t want to spring this all on you without talking to the Bantries first. They’ve already hired a lawyer—”

  “A lawyer! Shit, I have to get a lawyer? How the hell am I ever going to afford a lawyer, Breezy? All that money, all the cash I’ve been saving from the Bantries’ lease—and paying off Jarrod—and all the money I’ve been saving here, gone in a flash to lawyers? No way!”

  There was silence on the phone before Breezy said, “Are you gonna let me finish?” She waited for a reply but he gave her none, his reticence his answer. “The Bantries let me sit in on a meeting with their lawyer. Seems we’ve got a long way to go before the D.O.T. can seize the property, and the Bantries said as your land at stake is part of the parcel they rent, they felt they could argue for you and you wouldn’t have to use your own lawyer. After all, if they win, there is no earthly point why WYDOT would want your parcel. In return, of course, knowing you intend to return here and start ranching again, and they foresee the loss of that pasture, they want you to sign a longer lease.”

  Chay rubbed a hand down his face. He was snookered, cornered, and needed time to think. “I can’t give an answer now.”

  “No, don’t. Absolutely don’t. Maybe you can reach a compromise with them, Chay, some cash and some land to rent. I don’t know what to tell you; I’m sure you’re aware you’re gonna have to come home and sort this out. I can do what I can in the meantime—”

  “No, you’ve done enough for me, Breezy; this is my problem now.”

  “The other possibility is, of course, you just leave it. Let them do the work and see what happens. It isn’t the most neighborly reaction, but it can work. Or at least you can point out to them you could do that, and use that as your bargaining chip.”

  “Yeah,” he replied without much conviction.

  “Well, I knew you wouldn’t like that idea, being the gentleman you are,” she said with a slight guffaw behind her words, “but really, if you think about it, pointing that out to them wouldn’t hurt in the least. They can’t very well throw their hands up and say, okay, we won’t fight it either, because then they’ll lose their front parcel, but they know dang well you can just sit back. It’s most likely why they thought of that deal in the first place—thought maybe you weren’t smart enough, or were just too dang kind, to not fight with them.”

  “Ummm. Well. I sure as heck don’t want to be feeding any lawyers, but I don’t want to lose that land either. It’s been in my family for several generations, it was homesteaded. So what did the lawyer say?”

  “Like I told you: a long way to go. They want to get the Environmental Protection Agency involved and have the D.O.T
. prove highest and best use. Make ’em jump through hoops. They think you all have a good case in that respect.”

  “Small advantage, I guess. What if highest and best use is putting the road through?”

  “Well, Chay, we just can’t let that happen, can we?”

  He put down the phone and looked at K.C., her face reading like the map of a disaster area. She was sitting on the bed, hands dangling between her legs, rocking back and forth like silent keening. For several moments, they both just stayed that way.

  “You’re going to leave, aren’t you,” she said at last. “You’re going to go back.”

  He dropped down beside her and took her hand, stroking it, as if he were gentling a wild animal, before he brought her fingers to his lips. “I don’t know, K.C. Well…I do have to go back. Sometime. Sometime soon. But not yet, not before Christmas certainly. We’ll have Christmas together.”

  She faced him, tears beginning to meander down the contours of her face. “What good is that, Chay? What good if you leave and never come back? What good are the extra days if you break up with me?”

  “Who said anything about breaking up, for heaven’s sake?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? You hate it here, you’ve hated it from the first, and now you have an excellent excuse to go back to Wyoming and leave me. To stay there.”

  Chay rose and paced back and forth. Outside, from the living room, he could hear low chatter as the other girls went out the front door and gave it a resonant slam. “I can’t believe you, K.C. I don’t need an excuse to leave. If I’d wanted to leave, I’d have dang well left. Maybe you’re using this as an excuse to get rid of me? Maybe you’re pushing me away on purpose so I leave?”