Cowboy Christmas Jubilee

by Dylann Crush

  Kenzie grinned up at her. “Daddy makes good pancakes, doesn’t he?”

  Jinx nodded. No denying the man had skills. She lifted a pancake off the platter in the center of the table and plopped it on the plate in front of her. Looked like he’d made enough to feed the whole county. May as well walk to town on a full stomach.

  Cash returned to the table, a bashful grin pasted on his scruffy face. “I’m sorry. Sorry for being a bully and sorry about the intrusion with my folks. I told them you got caught out in the rain last night and all your stuff got soaked through. Mom wanted to fix up a batch of chicken soup and go shopping for a dry wardrobe for you. Nice to see she settled for a nightgown.”

  “Why?” Jinx asked, already stabbing another bite of pancake.

  “Why what?”

  “Your parents don’t know me at all. Why would they care?”

  Cash shook his head. “Mom’s never met a stranger. Careful or she’ll suck you right into the fold along with everyone else. It’s what she does. Now, if you want to finish your pancakes, I can give you a ride over to Dwight’s.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to put you out, not after you’ve done so much already.”

  Cash chuckled. “I let you sleep on my couch. As far as I’m concerned, that rates right up there with handing you a tissue or loaning you a cup of sugar on the putting me out scale.”

  “Still”—Jinx made a point to meet his gaze—“I do appreciate it.”

  The smile he gave her sent a wave of warmth crashing through her. “Don’t mention it. Kenzie and I have to head into town this afternoon anyway. You’re not putting us out at all.”

  “Okay then, I’d love a ride.” The urge to buy that bus ticket to New Orleans subsided. “Can you take me to Dixie’s instead?” Jinx speared the last bite of pancake. She could do this. She’d survived worse. Moving in with Dixie was the right thing to do. Putting some distance between herself and Cash and Kenzie would be good for her. She couldn’t afford to make connections, not even with the darling little girl—and especially not with her disarming dad.

  * * *

  “Here we are.” Cash eased the truck to a stop in front of Armadillo Antiques. He hadn’t been inside in years. “I think you get to the apartment above by those steps over there.”

  Jinx looked out the window.

  “You want us to help you get your stuff upstairs?”

  “I want to see Jinx’s new apartment.” Kenzie unbuckled and leaned over the back of the seat.

  Cash shrugged. “It’s up to Jinx.”

  “Can we?” Kenzie bounced up and down, making the seat back shake.

  “Um, sure. I bet Dixie won’t mind.” Jinx grabbed her backpack and climbed out of the truck. Kenzie catapulted over the seat, then raced up the stairs ahead of them.

  “Hold up a sec, Kenz.” Cash snagged the rest of Jinx’s things from the bed of the truck.

  Jinx’s hand closed over his. “I can get that.”

  Warmth traveled from where their hands touched, filtering through his limbs. For a split second, he was sorry Jinx would be staying at Dixie’s. He banished the thought before he had time to mull it over. What had happened between them last night was a temporary lapse in judgment. He’d make sure he didn’t let himself lapse again.

  “Well, hi, y’all.” Dixie swung the door wide open and stood at the top of the steps. “Come on in.”

  Kenzie raced past her. It wasn’t worth his breath to try to reissue his warning to slow down.

  Dixie gave Jinx a hug as she reached the landing. “I’m so excited you decided to take me up on my offer. It’s not much, but consider half of it yours.”

  With her hands full, Jinx didn’t return the embrace. Cash stood two steps lower and waited for Dixie to release her grip.

  “Thanks, Dixie. I really appreciate you letting me stay here.” Jinx passed into the apartment, and Dixie followed.

  “It’s you who’s doing me a favor. It’ll be nice to split the rent.”

  “You know it’s only for a month—maybe six weeks tops.” Jinx set her bag down on the edge of the couch.

  Cash’s gaze bounced from the frilly, pink-and-white curtains to the lacy tablecloth. In her heavy black boots and motorcycle jacket, Jinx couldn’t have looked more out of place if she’d tried. Everything in Dixie’s apartment was pink, white, or pink-and-white checkered.

  “I love it here.” Kenzie spread her arms wide and turned in a circle. “Can we make my room look like this, Daddy?”

  Jinx shot him a smile. His face heated a few degrees, and he wondered if she’d read his mind. “We’ll see, Tadpole. I promised you we’d paint it this year.”

  “My room is too babyish.” She turned to Jinx with a furry pink pillow in her arms. “Daddy says I can paint it whatever color I want, and I want pink.”

  “All right, pink it is.” Cash set Jinx’s stuff down on the floor.

  “When can we paint it, Daddy? Today?”

  “Not today, Kenz. We’ll get it done though. Maybe over your Christmas break.” He shook his head. “Always something to do with you around, kiddo.”

  “Where’s Jinx’s room?” Kenzie peeked through an open doorway into one of the bedrooms. “Is it this one?”

  “No, that’s mine.” Dixie walked to the second doorway. “It’s in here.”

  Kenzie entered the room first. “Oh my gosh, it’s beautiful.”

  Cash let Dixie and Jinx go ahead of him and didn’t follow the women in. He stopped in the doorway, trying to find something to focus on that wasn’t pink. A white dresser stood against the back wall. Ah, relief. If Kenzie wanted this kind of a setup for her room makeover, he’d be screwed.

  “I may have gone a little overboard on the monochromatic color scheme.” Dixie smoothed down the pink paisley comforter. “You’re welcome to change it.”

  “It’s fine.” Jinx took in a breath. “I won’t be here long enough for it to matter.”

  “What do you think, Daddy? Do you love it? Can I have my room just like this?” Kenzie wrapped her arms around his legs.

  Dixie and Jinx gave him their full attention, probably waiting for him to make some snide comment about the overabundance of feminine frill. “It’s…um…definitely cheery in here.”

  The corners of Jinx’s mouth tugged upward. Could they possibly be in agreement on something? That Dixie’s place was complete overkill?

  “We ought to let Jinx get settled. Let’s hit the grocery store while we’re in town. Nana wants us to pick up a few things for her for dinner. What do you say, Kenzie?”

  “Do I have to say goodbye to Hendrix?” She turned the puppy dog eyes on him.

  “He’s got to stay with Jinx, hon. But maybe you can watch him if she has to work a double shift sometime.” He looked to Jinx to gauge her reaction.

  “That would be great.” Jinx knelt down in front of Kenzie to give her a hug. “You can come say hi to him whenever you want, okay?”

  Kenzie nodded. He recognized the brave face she tried to put on every once in a while. But her lower lip trembled as she handed Hendrix over to Jinx. Damn, he’d better start putting the word out that Santa might need to bring a puppy for Christmas.

  Hendrix licked her across the face a few times, turning her pouty lip into a smile. “I love you, Hendrix.” She kissed him on top of the head. Before she even stood up, she had already moved on to her next big request. “Can I pick out some ice cream at the store?”

  “We’ll see.” Cash took his daughter’s hand and turned to face Jinx. “So, I guess I’ll see you around.”

  “Probably.” She cocked a hip.

  He looked to Dixie, who glanced at Jinx, who gazed at a spot on the floor. An awkward silence bounced between the three of them.

  “Isn’t Jinx coming to dinner at Nana’s tonight?” Kenzie twisted her hand out of his grip. “Nana sa
id she was invited.”

  “Oh, um…I’d probably better stay here and get settled. Next time, okay?”

  Kenzie let out a dramatic sigh. “You promise?”

  A crease appeared between Jinx’s eyebrows. “Sure. If your Nana invites me again and I don’t have to work.”

  Kenzie thrust her hand out. “Pinky promise.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Kenzie Walker.” Jinx curled her pinky finger around Kenzie’s. “Okay, I promise.”

  “Let’s go, Kenz. I’m sure Jinx wants to settle in. Take care. You too, Dixie.” For half a heartbeat, he thought maybe he should ask for a private word with Jinx. But hell, no sense in making a mountain out of the molehill they’d gotten themselves into last night. Move on, that’s what he’d do. He led Kenzie down the steps and out to the curb.

  “What are you smiling so much about, Tadpole?”

  “Jinx promised she’d come for dinner next time. I’m gonna ask Nana to invite her over for tomorrow night.”

  His heart sank. So much for getting Jinx out of his life. Looked like his daughter had already attached herself to the hardheaded bartender. Like a leech. Like a barnacle. Like a little girl who needed a friend.

  He vowed to seriously consider his mom’s suggestion from the other day. Maybe it was time to open his mind and his heart to finding him and Kenzie someone to take Lori Lynne’s place. Not that she’d given him any encouragement, but over his dead body would it be the inked bartender who’d already gotten under his skin.

  Chapter Nine

  Jinx woke to the sound of someone banging on the front door. She startled, trying to remember where she was for a moment. Right. Dixie’s. She’d worked a double shift the night before and didn’t get to bed until after three a.m.

  Bang-bang-bang. It sounded like someone was hitting the front door with a hammer.

  “Coming!” She tossed a Mariners sweatshirt on over her pajamas and made her way toward the door. Dixie was spending the day with her grandma, so Jinx had the apartment to herself. She’d planned on catching up on her sleep until whoever stood on the other side of the door decided to kill that idea.

  Before she opened the door, she peered through the peephole. Their landlord, Mrs. Boswell, stood on the stoop. Shoot. Was Dixie late on the rent? Why else would the eccentric antique store owner be knocking on the door during business hours? She should be downstairs.

  Jinx cracked the door open. She’d only met the woman once, the day after she’d moved in. Mrs. Boswell had gripped her hand, then flipped it over to trace some lines along her palm. She must have liked what she saw, because she told Dixie that Jinx was okay to move in.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Boswell. Can I help you with something?” Jinx asked.

  “Something is not right. My Armando is not happy.” The older woman pushed her way into the apartment. “I need to see your palm again.”

  “I don’t understand. Who’s not happy?” Jinx shut the door and turned to see Mrs. Boswell wringing her hands together.

  “Armando. My husband.”

  “Oh.” Jinx could have sworn Dixie had told her Mrs. Boswell was a widow. Maybe Armando was her second husband. “Where is Armando? Did he say why he isn’t happy?”

  “No. Armando, God rest his soul”—she made the sign of the cross—“is dead.”

  Taken aback at that revelation, Jinx didn’t know how to respond. “Um, okay. Then why don’t you think he’s happy?”

  Mrs. Boswell flung her right arm out wide. “All day and all night, he bangs the armoire door. Something has upset him. That something must be you. Give me your palm.”

  Jinx squinted at the landlord, wondering if she’d lost her marbles. Dixie had said she was a little eccentric but harmless. Not wanting to rock the boat, she held her hand out to the woman.

  Her forehead creased in concentration, Mrs. Boswell traced the lines of Jinx’s palm. “Ah, hard times behind you. Good times ahead. A strong love line—you are a good girl. I do not see the problem for my Armando.”

  “I don’t understand. How does your Armando know there’s a problem?” She’d met some interesting people in her various stints behind the bar. But Mrs. Boswell seemed to be in a league of her own.

  Mrs. Boswell slumped into a pink floral upholstered chair, mumbling to herself in some language Jinx couldn’t comprehend. Jinx sat on the couch and rubbed her palms over her thighs, wondering how she could get rid of the loopy landlord so she could go back to bed.

  Hendrix trotted out of the bedroom and sat in front of Jinx. At the sight of the dog, Mrs. Boswell leapt to her feet and jumped onto the chair. “Get it away!”

  “The dog?” Jinx scooped Hendrix up in her arms. “This is Hendrix. He won’t hurt you.”

  “Get it away!” Mrs. Boswell repeated. She waved her arms out in front of her.

  Jinx took Hendrix to the bedroom and shut him inside, hoping that would calm the woman down. “It’s okay. I put him in the bedroom.”

  In a move Jinx didn’t think possible, Mrs. Boswell hopped from the chair and scurried to the door. “It’s that creature. That is why my Armando cannot rest. He must go.”

  Jinx shook her head. “I don’t understand. He’s just a dog.”

  “No, no, no.” Mrs. Boswell pointed a finger at Jinx’s nose. “My room, my rules. No demons allowed.”

  “Are you saying I can’t live here?” She crossed her arms. This was ridiculous. Dixie had said she’d cleared it with the landlord and it was fine for Jinx to move in, Hendrix too. What was the problem?

  “No. You are okay. But the demon no.” Mrs. Boswell peered past her toward the closed bedroom door. Jinx’s gaze followed. “One more night. Then go.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” She turned around to see Mrs. Boswell retreating down the steps. “Unbelievable.” Just when she thought she could finally let down her guard and relax a little… She should have known better. Hadn’t life taught her that as soon as things started to look up, they usually dropped into a downward spiral?

  * * *

  Cash entered the Rose, both eager and apprehensive to set sights on Jinx again. It had been almost a week since they’d had their botched hookup. He’d thought about her all week long, like how was she settling in at Dixie’s? Had she been having a hard time getting him out of her head too?

  He was early for the Saturday night crowd, but she was already there. Seeing her talking to Dixie behind the bar from across the room, his chest expanded. Something weird and bubbly percolated up inside. What the hell? He took in a deep breath and closed the distance between them. The least he could do was say hi. As he approached the bar, he couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

  “I’m so sorry. I had no idea she’d bring up Armando.” Dixie leaned on the bar, a deep line creasing her brow.

  “It’s okay, really. I’ll just find somewhere to pitch my tent.” Jinx unloaded glass after glass from the dish rack and slid them into the grooves over her head.

  “Good evening, ladies.” Cash tipped his hat their way.

  Dixie wheeled to face him. “Cash, is it illegal for Mrs. Boswell to kick Jinx out?”

  He looked from Dixie to Jinx and back again. “I can’t say without knowing the situation. What happened?”

  “It’s not a big deal.” Jinx put the empty rack on the bar next to her. “What are you doing working on Saturday? I thought you only worked Friday nights?”

  “Did you miss me last night?” Cash winked at Jinx. A blush crept over her chest and up her neck.

  “No. Just asking, that’s all.”

  Dixie brought a fist down on the bar. “It is a big deal. Mrs. Boswell said Hendrix is a demon, and her dead husband who lives in the armoire said he can’t live there anymore. It’s not fair.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Jinx covered Dixie’s fist with her hand. “She’s the boss. Life isn’t always fa
ir. In fact, I’d say life is never fair.”

  “Well, if you have to go, I’ll go too.” Dixie nodded to herself.

  “Don’t be silly. Like I said, I’ll figure something out.” Jinx grabbed the dish rack and headed toward the kitchen.

  Dixie turned to Cash. “What are we going to do? She can’t sleep out in that tent again. It’s getting too cold outside.”

  “You’re right.” Cash bit his bottom lip. “Let me think something through. I may have an idea.”

  “Well, good.” Dixie tucked her order pad into her apron. “That woman deserves a break.” She whirled away from the bar, heading toward some newcomers who’d just sat down at a table.

  Cash leaned on his elbows, waiting for Jinx to return. He did have an idea, but would Jinx go for it? He wouldn’t know unless he tried.

  She stalked from the kitchen to back behind the bar. “What’s up, cowboy? Lose your way? I believe you work the door.” Chin raised, she shot a glance at the front door. “Or did someone hire you to harass me tonight?”

  “Sounds like you need a place to live.” He’d ease into the conversation, feel her out, and then propose his plan.

  “Yeah, thanks to an armoire-dwelling ghost.”

  His mouth quirked into a grin. “I’ve been thinking—”

  “Don’t hurt yourself.” She shook her head.

  “Come on now. I’ve been thinking what with you needing a place to live and me needing someone to help Kenzie with her reading, maybe we can work something out.”

  She looked up at him, surprise evident in the way her eyes rounded. “What? You want me to move in with you?”

  He laughed. “Not exactly what I had in mind. I figure if you can help Kenzie with her reading, I’ll let you stay in the bunkhouse until your bike’s ready. Sound good?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “That’s it?”

  “Yeah. What did you think I was going to propose?” Based on last Friday night, Cash could think of a few more bullet points to add to the list. But she clearly wasn’t looking for a long-term solution, and he needed to find some stability for his daughter. For the umpteenth time, he reminded himself the inked-up bartender wasn’t his type.