Blue Sky Cowboy Christmas

by Joanne Kennedy

  He wanted to give her the safe and certain knowledge she deserved it.

  When she opened her eyes and met his, he knew she felt the love that had built up between them—the sense of soul meeting soul, of finding home in the heart of someone you loved.

  But she was holding back. She wouldn’t open the door, and if she did, he doubted she’d stay.

  Not until he convinced her she belonged there.

  * * *

  Riley awoke curled in a pool of moonlight, stroked by the swaying shadow of a windswept pine. She listened to the deep, even breathing of Griff beside her, and she’d never been happier in her life. Sighing, she shimmied backward on the bed until she was snugged up against him, safe in the circle of his embrace.

  “Love you, Riley,” he muttered.

  She stilled, afraid to move. She didn’t want to wake him in case he took it back.

  She knew she shouldn’t take it seriously. She knew how men were, how they mistook an orgasm for love and said things they didn’t mean.

  But then he opened one eye and gave her a sleepy smile. “Really. Just you.”

  She didn’t answer. He was half-asleep, and she’d seen him jump out of bed and take a swing at the wall in that state. Muttering words of love was nothing compared to the delusions of his nightmares. She was just another dream, but at least she was a good one.

  For now, she decided, she’d pretend he’d meant it. The words had made the butterflies wild with joy, and for once, she wouldn’t try to stifle them. She’d treasure his words, believe in them for one night, and deal with reality tomorrow.

  Closing her eyes, she rested her head on his outstretched arm and basked in the moment. She had one last thought before she dropped off to sleep, feeling strong, trusting, and loved.

  This must be what it’s like to be somebody else.

  * * *

  The next morning, Griff heard Riley coming down the stairs and clenched the old landline phone harder. He wanted to go to her, make sure she knew the night before had been for real, but apparently Bruce had spent the night looking for Isaiah’s angel. Feathers were scattered all around the room, and Griff had been busy cleaning them up when the phone rang.

  His stepmother had freaked out the second he answered, and she hollered for his dad to pick up the extension, so the jig was up. His family had found out he was home. He didn’t know if they were cutting their vacation short or if they’d planned to be at the ranch for Christmas, but they were on their way.

  “How long will you be home, Son?” his dad asked.

  “Not sure.” Griff’s old resentment rose at the sound of his father’s voice, and he searched for a safe topic of conversation. He didn’t find one.

  “Hey, what’s with all the bathrooms?” he asked.

  Riley stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He saw her eyes widen slightly, though she tried to cover the reaction by faking a yawn. He’d been right, then. She’d always changed the subject when he’d asked about the renovations because she had something to hide.

  “We’re making some changes,” his dad said. “Nothing you have to worry about. Your sister’s got things all planned out, and of course we didn’t know you were coming home, so…”

  “Just tell him, Heck.” Griff didn’t know his stepmother very well, but he was glad she’d interrupted. “Or I will. Griff, you know we thought about selling the ranch a while back. Your dad’s health hasn’t been so good, and…”

  “What’s wrong with his health?” He barked out the words before he could think. His dad was never sick. He was always hale and hearty, ready to outride, outrope, and outwork anybody—and he’d made sure his son knew it.

  “A little heart trouble,” his dad said. “Nothing to worry about.”

  Molly cleared her throat. “Jess came home to help us get the place ready to sell, but then she had this fabulous idea.” Her voice quavered. “She and Cade are going to help us make the place into a guest ranch. Isn’t that…great?”

  Griff heard the plea in her voice and realized they were worried about his response. But he didn’t care what they did with the place, and really, the idea was brilliant. His dad loved people, and from what Griff had heard, people loved his dad’s new wife. Jess had a degree in hospitality, and Cade… Well, Cade could be in charge of the horses. Griff was glad they had someone to take tourists on trail rides, because he wasn’t about to volunteer.

  “Sounds like a good idea. Guess that means Jess will stick around?”

  “She and Cade will live at the ranch and run the operation.” Molly was talking fast now, the tension in her voice giving way to enthusiasm. “Heck and I are moving over to Cade’s place, but you know, we love this RV thing, so we won’t be around much. Jess will be the manager, Cade’s going to run horse clinics, and when we’re home, I’ll be in charge of children’s activities.”

  “I’ll be chief wrangler,” Griff’s dad said.

  He sounded happy. From what Jess had said in her letters, he’d been tamed by Molly, who more or less ran his life. Their dad had been domesticated, she said. Mollified. Even he’d had to laugh at that.

  “Is Riley around?” Molly asked.

  He started to hand the phone to her, but she shook her head, waving her hands. He didn’t know why she didn’t want to talk, but he respected her wishes. “She’s busy, I guess,” he said.

  Smiling, she bent and began picking up Bruce’s mess, gathering feathers in her hands.

  They chatted a little more, but when he hung up the phone, Griff realized he’d better make the most of the time he and Riley had left. Once his family came, she’d probably stop sharing his bed—at least until they had a chance to reveal their relationship.

  He turned to find her at the kitchen counter, watching him with big, apprehensive eyes. She was wearing one of his old T-shirts, but she still looked like an elf somehow. When he bent to kiss her, she seemed surprised.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  He grinned. “I think that was our best night yet.”

  “About the dude ranch, I mean. I was afraid you’d be mad.”

  “Why would I be mad? It’s not my ranch.”

  She was dumping sugar into her coffee—one spoonful, two, a third. Her sweet tooth always made him smile.

  “It could be,” she said. “Someday.”

  “Not interested. It’s perfect for Jess. I want a different kind of life.”

  One with you.

  She sipped her coffee, those pale eyes regarding him steadily over the rim of her cup, and he realized this wasn’t the time to say that out loud.

  “This place is good for you,” she said. “Whenever you come in from the barn, you’re like a different person.”

  He shrugged. “The horses are good for me. The rest of it—I can take it or leave it.”

  “No, you can’t.” He was relieved to see her smile. “You’re a cowboy at heart. Under all that tough-guy stuff, you’re happiest shoveling horse apples.”

  “No.” He leaned against the counter next to her, letting his hip bump hers. “I found out last night I’m happiest being Santa. I think I have another present for you.”

  Riley edged away. After last night, the move surprised him. “They’re coming home, then?”

  He nodded. “They’re on their way. Should be here this afternoon.”

  “Hadn’t Jess told you about your dad’s heart?”

  “No, she was probably too busy mooning over Cade. I got a wedding invitation out of the blue, like I could drop everything and come home. That was it. Do you know what happened? He didn’t seem to think it was serious.”

  “He had two heart attacks. He almost died.”

  Griff’s own heart stopped for a moment. He pretended to fuss with the coffee maker to cover up his emotions. Heck Bailey was a force of nature, always the strongest, the bossiest, and
the best. It had never occurred to Griff that he was mortal.

  He turned to say so, but Riley had already slipped out of the room. All he caught was Bruce’s long tail, wagging its way out the door in her wake.

  Chapter 48

  Riley knew Griff wouldn’t be happy when she left. But she wasn’t about to horn in on yet another family celebration. Griff had been gone for years, and he needed to reconnect with his dad. Riley liked Heck Bailey, and reconciliation would mean a lot to him.

  The Baileys would make her welcome at their family holiday, but then, so had Ed—and look how that had worked out. She needed to go and let them be a family. She’d finished the tiling and painting and had only a little bit of cleanup left to do on the bathrooms. The porch—the porch would have to be turned over to a contractor to finish in the spring. There was a guy over in Lackaduck she trusted. She’d email him the plans and let Heck know he could be trusted.

  As for Griff, she hadn’t promised him anything beyond going home with him last night. If everything went her way, he wouldn’t know she was leaving until she was already gone. She barely knew what her plans were herself, but they didn’t involve Griff Bailey.

  Oh sure, the butterflies and the puppy dog thought Griff should be in her future—but she knew better. They’d be happy together for a while, but she was sure something would happen. Maybe the Harpies would dig up some issue from her past and make it public, or someone from her previous life would surface. He’d lose his election and start to resent her. They’d fight, and that would destroy that smooth stone of memory she treasured.

  After dressing hurriedly in jeans, a button-down shirt, and her cowboy boots, she checked the drawers in Jess’s dresser to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind. She thought of the elf suit and tiptoed to Griff’s bedroom. Picking up the crushed velvet jacket and pants, she held it to her chest.

  Come on. Don’t cry, stupid. It was magic, and magic doesn’t last.

  Blinking herself back to business, she found a hanger and did her best to smooth out the wrinkles before hanging the suit on the hook at the back of his door. He’d see it when he closed the door, and he’d remember. He’d have a smooth stone to treasure, too, but he’d forget eventually, when life got busy, when he was running for marshal with Fawn or someone like her by his side, when he had a home and a family and…

  Stop it.

  Hurrying back to Jess’s room, she glanced around, knowing she’d miss the safety she’d felt here, the frilly little-girl bed and fussy furniture. She’d never had a childhood bedroom, and it had felt like the lap of luxury to her.

  She turned back to the door to find Griff leaning there, watching her. She straightened her shoulders and jutted out her chin, firming her resolve. He wasn’t going to make this easy.

  “Your sister’s going to need her room,” she said.

  “So move to a different one. There are plenty.” His lip curled in a wry smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “With bathrooms.”

  “There aren’t any beds, though. Jess and Molly are going to shop for furniture after Christmas.” They’d said she could come, too, but that wouldn’t happen now.

  Riley stepped closer, willing him to get out of her way and let her go. She wasn’t staying, no matter what he said. She could tell he’d been shocked at the news of Heck’s heart attack, so hopefully he’d find forgiveness for whatever was wrong between them.

  “You can’t go back to Ed’s,” he said. “Those women…”

  She wasn’t going back to Ed’s, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

  “It’s Christmas,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

  * * *

  Griff followed Riley out to her truck, his heart pounding. Bruce padded behind him, his furry forehead wrinkled with concern.

  Griff couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong. Didn’t she realize how much she mattered to him? It couldn’t be his family. They’d always made her welcome. So it had to be him.

  One thing was certain—he wouldn’t let frustration get the best of him. Like a kid, he’d remember to use his words. He wished he was better at that, but he’d have to learn on the fly.

  He watched her climb in, fasten her seat belt, and start the engine. It was time to say something or she’d be gone. He tapped on her window. Grimacing as if he was just too much trouble to deal with, as if last night had never happened, she rolled it down.

  “Why are you doing this?” He realized he sounded angry and tried to modulate his voice. “I thought last night meant something.”

  “It did. In the moment, I mean.” She rushed to explain. “Remember you said that thing about elves being born every morning? The clean-slate thing?”

  He nodded, but he still looked mad.

  “Well, that was n-nice,” she said. “B-but it wasn’t real.”

  Why was she stammering? He looked down and realized he was clenching his fists and leaning forward, looming over her. Quickly, he took a step back.

  “It all felt real to me,” he said. “Everything. And I meant what I said.”

  She looked down, fiddling with her seat belt.

  “Sorry.” She busied herself with the car, checking the lights, running the wipers. He noticed she needed new ones. “I meant to tell you I told the women at Climb Colorado I’d come back and work for the program. Teach some classes, mentor the new girls, help them see they can lead a normal life. Elves keep their promises, right?”

  “When did you arrange this?”

  She looked left, then right, like a kid caught in a lie. “A while back.”

  He clenched his fists again, and this time, they didn’t unclench. The bees didn’t rise. They were well and truly gone. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t angry.

  “How are you going to convince them they can lead a normal life when you refuse to do it yourself?” He set his hands on the sill of her open window and ducked down so he could see her. His head and shoulders filled the window, and he was probably scaring her again, so he spoke softly. “A normal life has love in it, Riley, but every time somebody gets close to you, you shut it down.”

  “That’s not true. Ed has a real family, and they…”

  “They’re wrong, and you know it. But you stayed with Ed until the going got tough, and then you sacrificed yourself, right? Well, you didn’t do him any favors. You should have stood up to those women. He would have backed you up if you hadn’t been so dead set on running away. You saw that at the Red Dawg.”

  She revved the engine so it roared, then turned to glare at him. “What’s your point?”

  “My point is you can’t call yourself recovered until you can stand up for yourself.”

  “Yeah, well, as soon as I find a place to stand, I’ll do that.”

  “You have a place. All you have to do is claim it.” He reached past her into the truck, shut off the ignition, and pulled out the keys. “You have a place at Ed’s. You know that. And you damn sure have a place with me.”

  “I have a place in Denver, with the program,” she said. “They made me what I am.”

  “You made yourself what you are.” He was trying to seem less aggressive, but the fact that he still held her keys in his fist probably didn’t help, so he shifted his hand to her wrist. It seemed impossibly fragile, birdlike in his clumsy grip, and he reminded himself to be gentle. “Riley, you’re who you’ve always been, inside.”

  Staring straight ahead through the windshield, she spoke while barely moving her lips. “Let me start my truck. I can’t stand being trapped.”

  “I’m not trapping you.” He let go and handed her the keys. “You’ve trapped yourself.”

  She started up the truck, then paused. A surge of hope rose in his chest.

  “You’ll take care of Bruce for me, right?”

  He glanced down at the dog, then back at Riley. Seeing her in the front seat of the truck m
ade him remember another night when she’d been lying there helpless, snow all around her, the truck’s headlights staring sightless at the sky.

  “No,” he said. “You need him. Take him with you.”

  “I’m going to the city,” she said. “He won’t be happy there.”

  “Neither will you.” Griff rounded the car at a run, patting his thigh. The dog followed. “You’ll be a lot safer with him along. Hop in, buddy.”

  He opened the passenger door, and the dog came as close to hopping as he could. Once in the passenger seat, he glanced over at Riley, then stared solemnly through the windshield.

  “Griff…”

  “I’m serious,” he said. “I won’t take care of him.”

  Blowing out a furious breath, Riley reached over and tugged the seat belt across the dog’s chest, clicking it closed. Griff couldn’t help smiling. Even now, at this moment, she thought of the animal’s safety.

  She still had the truck in park, but she pressed the accelerator so it roared, and he had to shout to be heard.

  “I love you, Riley,” he said as she shoved the truck into gear.

  The dog glanced at him, but Riley didn’t hear. Or if she did, it didn’t stop her.

  Chapter 49

  When she reached the end of the driveway, Riley had no idea which way to turn.

  She’d lied to Griff. She had no idea if the program had a place for her. Yes, they’d told her they wanted her to come back—but that had been over five years ago. For all she knew, they said that to all the graduates.

  In any case, she could hardly go there tonight. They closed for a week over Christmas, and she didn’t know how to get in touch with the program director. For that matter, she wasn’t sure if her program director even worked there anymore.

  She turned at the bottom of the driveway, dreading the drive through Wynott. She had to go through the town to get anywhere, and memories would attack her at every turn. She wanted to fly down the quiet streets and get it over with, but Matt Lassiter would issue a ticket no matter who you were, so she drove a sedate 35 miles per hour to the town’s single stoplight. Despite the total absence of traffic, she stopped and looked around one last time, remembering the way it had looked the night before in the snow, with the light going green to yellow to red.