The Cowboy's Christmas Courtship. Brenda Minton
He was scruffy, and sorely needed a shave and a haircut, because his brown hair was shaggy. That made her smile a little, because she liked the thought of the homecoming he’d get looking like something the dog dragged in on the carpet. Ripped jeans, threadbare T-shirt beneath a denim jacket and several days behind in shaving. His mom, Angie Cooper, wouldn’t be happy.
“I’m going inside,” she announced.
He glanced away from her, to the stack of wood at the side of the house and then up, at the thin stream of smoke coming from the chimney. “I’ll grab some wood.”
“Please don’t.”
He turned and looked at her. The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle, but drops of moisture dripped from his hat. She swiped at her face and headed to the porch. “Go home.”
“I’m going to get you a stack of wood and make you a pot of coffee.”
“I drink tea.”
“I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
She stomped up to him. “I don’t want you to do this. Your guilt is the last thing I need.”
“It isn’t...” He shrugged off the denial. “I’m going to get you a load of wood in and make you a cup of tea while you get warm.”
“I would rather you not. I can get my own firewood and make my own tea.”
For a second she thought he might leave. He looked down at her, emotions flickering through his eyes. And then he smiled. “Layla, I’m sorry. It was a long time ago, and I haven’t done much to make things right. Let me get the wood. Please.”
Contrition. She always fell for it. Every time her little brother said he’d help more or do better, she believed him. Gage had soft eyes that almost convinced her he meant what he said. Besides, she was older now. She could withstand that Cooper charm.
“Okay.” She inclined her head to the woodpile. “Thank you.”
As he trudged off, grabbing a wheelbarrow along the way, she headed for the house. She’d managed to get a wreath on the front door and the other day she’d bought a pine-scented candle. That was as far as she’d gotten with Christmas cheer.
When she walked through the front door she shivered and wanted to keep her jacket on. But it was soaked through. She hung it on the coatrack by the door and did a quick search for her brother.
Brandon was nowhere to be seen. She thought maybe he’d taken off with friends while she’d been out in the barn. He was hard to keep hold of these days. And he was less help now than he’d been as a little boy.
She needed some warm clothes. The sound of wood thumping into a wheelbarrow meant Gage was still outside. She hurried upstairs to her room and pulled a warm sweatshirt over her T-shirt. Her hair was still wet so she ran a towel over her head, then dried her face. As she walked down the stairs, she heard clanking and banging from the living room. Wood smoke filled the air and she smiled.
Gage Cooper squatted in front of her cantankerous old fireplace insert, rattling the vents and coughing as smoke filled the room. She hurried forward and twisted the right lever. The smoke started up the chimney again. He looked up at her.
“Sorry, I couldn’t get it to work.”
She shrugged off the apology. “It takes skill.”
“I have skill.”
“Of course you do.” She glanced at the pile of wood on the hearth. “Thank you for bringing that in. I could make you a cup of coffee but I don’t have a coffeemaker. I only drink tea.”
“I’m good.” He shoved in another log. The embers glowed brighter, sparked, and the fire came back to life. “There you go.”
He pushed himself to his feet. Layla’s hand went out to steady him, but she pulled back, unwilling to make contact. He smiled at her, as if he knew.
“I’ll make tea.” She walked away, leaving him to make the slow trail after her. “And then you should go.”
She called back the last without looking at him.
He chuckled in response.
When he entered the kitchen she turned, watching as he sat at the rickety old table that had been in the house since before her birth. The wood had faded. The chairs wobbled. She’d tightened them dozens of times over the years but they were close to being firewood.
“So, how’s...”
She cut him off. “Let’s not make small talk and pretend to be friends.”
The microwave beeped and she pulled out a cup of hot water, dropping a tea bag in before chastising herself for sounding like a shrew. But the stern lecture didn’t last long. He deserved her anger.
She looked at him as she dunked the tea bag. He had settled on one of those wobbly chairs, his left leg straight in front of him. His hat was on the table and he’d folded his arms over his chest.
“I’m sorry that I hurt you.”
“I think you’ve said that before.” She put the second cup of water in the microwave and brought the finished cup of tea to Gage.
“I was a kid, Layla. I was spoiled and thought I could do no wrong. I didn’t think about your feelings.”
The words stunned her because he sounded so amazingly sincere. His face looked sincere. His eyes looked sincere. She was not a good judge of character. She was the person who kicked the dog out of the house for chewing up shoes and then let him back in, thinking he wouldn’t do it again.
The few relationships she’d had in her teen years had been with the wild ones her mother had warned her to stay away from. But then, at sixteen her mom had told her to fall in love with a Cooper, a man who would treat her right.
Layla didn’t want to think of all the reasons her mom had said that to her. The list had been long. Her mom’s life had been hard. She hadn’t wanted her daughter to follow in her footsteps. Layla’s mom had wanted her to marry someone who would take care of her, who wouldn’t hurt her.
“Layla, I mean it. I’m sorry.”
“Right, I know. I’m no longer a naive kid, so thank you for the life lesson and now for the apology but...”
He grinned again. “But you’d rather hold the past over my head.”
I’d rather keep my heart safe. “I’d rather you drink your tea and go.”
Because if he sat there any longer, she’d remember how it felt when they studied chemistry together, and how she’d discovered chemistry of a different kind when he kissed her, a sweetly chaste kiss but one that had changed her life. And then she learned that he’d been using her to get to her best friend. At sixteen, it had felt like the worst thing that could ever happen. If only she’d known how much more life could hurt, she would have cried less over him.
As for her best friend, Cheryl, the friendship had ended. Not because of Gage, but because Cheryl had stayed in college when Layla had come home to raise Brandon. Cheryl married a man from Texas, and she had a baby now.
From outside she could hear the loud engine of a truck. She heard laughter and then doors slamming. Brandon was home. After a few minutes he tumbled into the kitchen, bringing cold air and the strong odor of alcohol.
“What’s for supper, sis?” He glanced in Gage’s direction, grinned and plopped into a chair that nearly collapsed. “What’s he doing here? Got yourself a new man? One with money?”
Before she could stop him, Gage Cooper jumped out of his chair. He grabbed her little brother by the front of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. Gage’s face went red and Brandon’s went a few shades paler.
“Don’t talk to your sister that way.”
“Or