Cowboy Boots for Christmas (24 page)

“Did you hear that?” Callie asked Finn.

“Marry me,” he said.

Callie was stunned into silence. “What did you say?”

“I asked you to marry me.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, but I figure if you marry me, I might save you from a life of alcoholism,” he said.

“Finn, you can’t tease me out of this. I’m going to drink until you have to carry me into the house tonight like you did that New Year’s Eve over there in the war when we put away all that whiskey your cousin sent to us in mouthwash bottles. And I’m going to make you tell the kids, because I can’t tell, but you aren’t doing it until after their trip with Verdie. She’s liable to have a heart attack or else run away with the whole lot of them, and she’s got the money to stay gone until they’re all grown,” Callie said.

“Marry me, and we’ll adopt them, and Verdie will be safe, and the kids will have a home,” he said.

“I’m not sure that’s a good reason to get married,” she said. “But it is tempting.”

“We wouldn’t have to tell anyone we’re married. As long as it’s legal on paper, then Amanda can’t turn us down. She said that a married couple wanting to adopt took precedence over foster care, didn’t she?”

Callie’s heart did a backward flip. He would be marrying her just for the kids, not out of love and commitment. He did say that one time that he loved her, and they did have a pretty damn good relationship in and out of the bedroom, but still, she wanted the whole thing. A wedding with the dress and flowers in a church, not a twenty-minute trip to the courthouse in Gainesville to be kept a secret. She wanted to stand on the front lawn with Christmas lights all around her and yell that Finn O’Donnell was her new husband.

“Why do we have to keep it a secret?” she asked.

“I thought you might want to keep it under wraps, since we’ve only been together three weeks.”

“When I marry, the only thing that’ll be a secret will be what goes on in our bedroom.”

“So will you think about it?” he asked. “I’ve kind of grown attached to that old gal and those kids being underfoot. And I don’t imagine those new people will let them bring all the animals with them, either, so there’s that to think about.”

It was a piss-poor reason to get married.

“Don’t give me an answer right now. Just think about it until after the New Year, and then we’ll decide,” Finn said. “And, Callie, you’re not like your sister. You are probably like your father. What was his name?”

“Tommy Jones.” The words came out in a hoarse whisper. “He and Mama weren’t married, so I got her maiden name, just like Lacy did, because Mama didn’t marry her daddy either.”

“A cowboy, I take it.”

“Yes, he was a cowboy. Grew up on a ranch in the little town where they both lived in east Texas. Place called Jefferson right on the Louisiana border. With my background, you should be runnin’ from me, not proposin’ to me,” Callie said.

“My offer still stands. Secret. No secret. Any way you want to call it,” Finn said.

“I need a beer or two or ten after this night, and I need time to think about callin’ it.” She kicked the shoes off and yelled, “Hey, Polly, I’ll have a Coors.”

“Make that two,” Finn said.

“Two Coors comin’ right up. A helicopter took that glass, didn’t it? I heard a whirring noise but didn’t pay any mind to it. Figured it was one of them medical things and hoped no one in Burnt Boot needed it. Brennans were behind it. Everyone knows it, but they won’t be able to prove it. I’m just wonderin’ how in the hell they ripped it out so clean.” She asked as she set the mugs in front of Callie and Finn.

“Someone cut the glass and put heavy-duty suction cups on it,” Finn said.

“They’ll find it floatin’ in the Red River most likely,” Callie said.

“Sounds like something out of a military movie to me,” Polly said. “There’s Gladys. I called her to come on down here and help me tonight. With this kind of news, everyone will be coming to the bar to talk about it. Y’all need some change for the jukebox? It still plays three songs for a quarter if you like Merle Haggard and George Jones. I’ve got a new one ordered all digital and costing more. This one ain’t got no Christmas music on it.”

“Yes, please. Finn promised to dance with me.” Callie fished out a five-dollar bill from her purse and handed it across the bar.

Polly gave her three dollars and eight quarters. “That should be enough to dance some leather off his fancy boots.”

Finn ran a finger up under Callie’s shawl from elbow to shoulder. “You were, hands down, the prettiest girl at the party.”

“And you were, hands down, the best-lookin’ cowboy. I don’t want to talk about Gallaghers or Brennans the rest of the night. Go put some quarters in that jukebox and let’s dance.” She filled his hand with quarters.

“Any particular song?” he asked.

“You choose. I’ll dance.”

He plugged in two quarters and motioned for her to join him. She slid off the bar stool and padded across the wooden floor in her bare feet. Surprisingly enough it wasn’t cold. That old potbellied stove over there beside a life-sized Santa was doing its job in keeping the place warm.

“I’ve picked out my three. It’s your turn,” Finn said.

She scanned down through the listing and picked out her quarter’s worth, then turned around and put her arms around his neck. Brad Paisley started off the six songs with “Good Morning Beautiful.”

“I thought this was all old songs by old artists,” she said.

“Verdie told me that if Polly likes a song, she figures out a way to get it on a 45 so it’ll go in the jukebox, and this is my song to you, Callie Brewster,” he breathed into her ear.

The lyrics said that he never worried if it was raining outside because inside with her the sun always shined and his night was wonderful with her by his side—that when he opened his eyes to see her beside him, it was a good morning, beautiful day.

He twirled her and brought her back to his chest as the song ended.

“Well, this one is my song to you,” she said as Sammi Smith sang “Help Me Make It Through the Night.”

The first lyrics said for him to take the ribbons from her hair, to shake it loose and let it fall, to lay it soft against his skin like the shadows on the wall. She asked him to lie down by her side until the early morning light and to help her make it through the night. She said that it was sad to be alone, and Callie could relate to that. She didn’t want to be alone, but Finn deserved so much more than she was or could give.

Finn tipped her chin up for a soft kiss. “I’m here, Callie, forever, amen, and I would have played that one, but it’s not on the jukebox. I recognize this tune. I’m just a plain old country bumpkin. I don’t wear three-piece suits, but this could be our song if you want it to be.”

Cal Smith’s “Country Bumpkin” told the tale of a couple’s life from the time that a cowboy came into the bar and parked his lanky frame upon a tall bar stool. The barroom girl with knowing eyes looked him up and down and wondered how a country bumpkin like that even found his way to town. By the time the song got to the part about them bringing their first son into the world, tears were flowing down Callie’s cheeks and leaving marks on Finn’s white shirt. It went on to forty years later when she was on her deathbed knowing her race was almost done, and she looked into the eyes of her son and husband and told her country bumpkins good-bye. And Callie wept even harder.

“It’s us if you want it to be,” Finn said.

“Forty years isn’t enough, Finn. And I could never leave you,” Callie said.

“Then think hard about making this thing permanent,” he said. “Oh, the next one is my last song. It’s my story, in a way, but it brought you into my life, Callie. If I’d have been satisfied where I was on the ranch, if I hadn’t wanted something more than cows and corn, I would have never met you. I thought of this song a lot and played it often, both by Waylon and Travis, when we were over there. It almost happened just like this with me and Daddy sitting on the porch and him not wanting me to go to the army but to stay in Texas and be a rancher.”

The twang of the guitar started the song, and then Waylon began to sing that he wanted a life where corn don’t grow. More tears dammed up behind her lashes as she thought of Finn telling his daddy that he wanted to leave the ranch. She could feel the emotion in Finn’s body when the lyrics said that the weeds were high in the land where corn don’t grow. It said that hard times were real and dusty fields were there no matter where you go.

“It was dusty, and corn damn sure didn’t grow over there in Afghanistan,” she said.

“Our kids might want to get away from it, Callie, but if we give them a good foundation, they’ll come back,” he said.

“I don’t think Martin will ever leave the ranch. He’s seen the world where corn don’t grow, and he didn’t like it,” she said. “And this one is definitely for both of us.”

Merle Haggard’s “That’s the Way Love Goes” started, and she looped both her arms around Finn’s neck.

Haggard sang that he’d spent his whole life searching for that four-leaf clover, that she’d run with him chasing that rainbow, and that’s the music God made for the world to sing.

“I do love you, Finn,” she said.

“That’s enough for tonight. Let’s drink the rest of our beer before it goes flat and gets warm.” He led her back to the bar.

A tall cowboy went to the jukebox and put in his quarter, and several other cowboys and cowgirls joined him on the dance floor as they did a line dance to Elvis Presley’s “Burning Love.”

“Guess they’re ready to shake it up a little, but y’all sure looked cute out there making love with your eyes,” Polly said. “And here come the Brennans. Okay, folks, let’s get something straight. This is neutral ground. One nasty little trick, and me and my shotgun will take care of it,” Polly yelled.

Gallaghers, some still dressed in fancy clothing, plowed in behind them.

“That goes for the whole lot of you. Be civil or get the hell out of my bar,” Polly said. “Now where were we? Oh, I was sayin’ that y’all looked cute out there. I bet you could do some fancy fast dancin’, too.”

The Brennans claimed the south end of the bar, and the Gallaghers took the north end. Wicked looks went back and forth, and for damn sure, they did not dance with one another, but no one started anything. Evidently Polly and her shotgun were a formidable couple.

“Okay, woman, let’s show them how it’s done,” Finn said. “We’re not going to let them ruin our night. Besides, Honey and Betsy are both here, and I want them to know that I’m taken so they’ll stop this shit.”

He and Callie took the floor in a fast swing dance where he twirled her out and brought her back, and she flirted with him with her eyes through the whole dance. When it finished, the tall cowboy sitting beside the jukebox said, “Don’t leave yet. We’ve got more on the way.”

The first sounds of “Jailhouse Rock” started, and Callie and Finn danced so fast that she was panting worse than she did during wild sex. Finn’s cowboy boots were a blur, but she’d be damned if she let him get ahead of her even if she got blisters on her feet.

“One more,” the cowboy hollered. “Y’all are really good. You must dance a lot together. Let’s see what y’all can do with ‘Cotton-Eyed Joe.’”

Finn wiped sweat from his forehead with a white handkerchief he took from his hip pocket and held his hand out to Callie. “You ever done any clogging?”

“Little bit,” she said.

“Well, give it all you got,” he said.

When the song ended, the whole bar was whistling, clapping, and yelling for more, but Finn and Callie staggered to the bar, downed their beers, and asked for another.

“That was fun to watch. Y’all two are going to do just fine back here in the boonies.” Polly laughed. “Me and Thomas used to cut a rug like that back when we first opened the bar. He taught me to dance Irish style. Looks like you two already know it.”

Finn clicked his mug against Callie’s. “To the Irish.”

“To us,” she said.

They closed down the bar at two o’clock in the morning, and Finn drove very slowly all the way to Salt Draw. They left clothing all over her bedroom floor, fell into bed, and he made such sweet love to her that she almost cried again. He went to sleep right afterward, and she propped up on an elbow to look her fill of the first man who’d ever proposed to her.

God almighty, but those long lashes fanned out on his cheekbones, and that full mouth knew how to turn her on. Could she trust herself to say yes? It wasn’t Finn or even his doubts that bothered her but her own genetics.

Have
you
looked
at
another
man
since
you’ve been in Burnt Boot? You are surrounded with good-looking cowboys who have done everything but kidnap you, and you’ve turned your back on them. Wake up, girl, and smell the coffee. This is the man for you, and you’ll never leave him. You wallowed in your daddy’s DNA, not your mother’s.

She flopped back down on the pillow. Her inner voice had never steered her wrong, not one time, but still she had to think about it. They made sweet love. They made passionate love. They made wild love. They danced well together. They could take out a target together. She loved him, but saying yes meant a lifetime commitment, and she wanted to be sure.

“I’m not rushing. I’ve got a couple of weeks before the kids have to leave. I want to be damn sure that we can live together forever when I tell him I’ll marry him,” she whispered.

A pulsing pain hit her between the eyes. Lord, she was going to have a hellacious hangover come morning, which was only three hours from that minute. Verdie would be up rattling pots and pans, and the kids would be loud, and she’d feel like she had a marching band in her head.

She smiled, shut her eyes, and snuggled up against Finn’s back.

“It’s worth every single throb,” she said.

Two glasses of tomato juice sat on the bar the next morning when Callie made it to the kitchen. Verdie pointed at them and said, “They are both just alike. Down one without coming up for air and by the time breakfast is done, you’ll be ready for it. It’s Patrick’s special brew for a hangover.”

Callie pushed her hair back and smelled the concoction. “How’d you know?”

“Well, Verdie, hot damn!” Joe squawked.

“I may fry that damn bird and tell the kids they’re eatin’ chicken. He was cute for a little while, but since he learned my name, he’s a pest,” Verdie said. “Back to the hangover and last night. Polly called me between customers. The Brennans best have a twenty-four-hour guard set up after that stunt. Naomi is out for blood. I heard Orville was there with Ilene. Looks like you’ve done lost your supply of doughnuts. And believe me, Naomi will sure enough be supporting Ilene in her relationship with Orville so they’ll have the sheriff in their pocket over on Wild Horse. They found that big window without a crack in it this morning. It was settin’ right in front of the Gallaghers’ schoolhouse,” Verdie said.

Callie held up the glass. “How’d you know I needed this?”

“If you’d have been giggling any louder, you would have wakened up the kids, and poor little things need their sleep, especially Martin with the news you are springing on him today. He’s going to be so excited, he might not sleep for a week,” Verdie said.

“What news?” Callie picked up the glass, tipped it back, and drank it down even though her eyes watered after the first sip. She shivered from black hair to toenails when she set the empty glass down with a thud. “Shit, Verdie, was that pure vodka?”

“It had some tomato juice and Louisiana hot sauce in it, plus one well-beaten raw egg. Never failed one time for Patrick,” she said. “Now tell me why you aren’t going to tell him.”

“Tell Martin what news? What are you talking about?” Callie’s whole body quivered like a dog shaking water one more time.

“Polly heard Finn propose to you last night. Didn’t you say yes?”

Callie fanned her mouth until it cooled enough that she could speak. “I did not! My mama had two girls by two different cowboys and never married either of them. She died when I was sixteen, and I lived with my sister, who followed in her footsteps. It’s in my genes, Verdie. Finn deserves better than that.”

“You aren’t your mother or your sister, girl,” Verdie said sternly. “If you were, you wouldn’t be doing the work of five hired hands, raisin’ four kids who aren’t yours, and puttin’ up with a bitchy old woman like me. Any one of those things would have already put you on the run. Trust me. You’ve got roots and you are a settler, not a runner,” she said.

“That’s what Finn says. I want to believe him,” Callie said.

“We don’t get a whole lifetime of days, Callie. We get them doled out to us one at a time. At my age, I open my eyes in the morning and just tell the big man thank you. And if I’m still breathing come night, I have a drink of Jack, and I hope I get to start all over tomorrow, because I’m happier than I’ve been since my boys were little kids. Don’t question. Just follow your heart, girl. It won’t lead you down the daisy path.”

“How do I know that?”

“You don’t. That’s where faith comes in,” Verdie answered. “You’re in love with Finn. You wouldn’t love him if you couldn’t trust him or believe him.”

Callie hugged Verdie tightly. “Thank you.”

“Who’s in love with who?” Finn stumbled into the kitchen, took one look at the tomato concoction, and downed it in four big gulps. “Tastes just like what Grandpa used to mix up. Hell in a glass, but it works.” He kissed Callie on the forehead.

Callie was glad that the kids came out of their bedrooms in a whirlwind. Olivia’s hair hadn’t been braided and hung in strings down in her face; the boys were still in their pajamas and clamoring for breakfast.

“We’re starving,” Adam and Ricky said at the same time.

“What’s in that? Do we have to drink tomato juice for breakfast? I really don’t like it too good. It’s too thick,” Olivia said.

“No, it was just for Callie and Finn. They had headaches after the party last night,” Verdie said.

“And next year, Verdie is going to the party and we’re keeping the kids,” Callie announced.

“Not me. I’m too old for parties. I’m the granny, and the granny gets to call all babysitting duties and decisions about parties,” Verdie said. “Bacon, eggs, and biscuits for breakfast. Olivia, it’s your turn to set the table. You boys go get dressed for chores. Finn is going to need lots of help this morning.”

“Why don’t you kids watch cartoons this morning? I’ll do the chores,” Callie said.

“You serious? We can’t let you do that. We need to make the money for our Christmas shopping on Monday,” Martin said. “We done been talkin’ about the things we want to buy.”

“Okay, then.” Callie smiled. “Who’s going to the barn today and who’s helping with housework and laundry?”

Olivia raised her hand. “I’ll be staying in the house with Granny. Can I please dust? I’d rather do that than fold clothes. And I love to dust off the pretty Christmas things.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, because I hate to dust,” Verdie said. “Now let’s have some breakfast so the whole bunch of you can get your work done. You know what I want for Christmas? I want some new hot pads. Mine are looking like they should go to the ragbag, and I have to use two just to keep from burning my fingers.”

Callie would have pasted a gold star on Verdie’s forehead if she’d had one. She had just provided the kids with something useful and inexpensive that would thrill her for Christmas. Callie decided to use the opening and do the same.

“Well, I need some good warm socks. And I would really like a stocking hat so I don’t have to borrow one of Martin’s. And I just bet you that Finn would like some new work gloves, those brown kind that he uses out in the barn. He’s constantly putting them down and the puppies chew holes in them.” She laughed.

The kids’ minds were working like gears in the backside of an old wristwatch. Bless Verdie’s heart. She was a genius…or maybe a Christmas angel.

***

Finn nodded and added two or three things to his list when he caught on to what Verdie and Callie were doing. But his mind wasn’t on presents or kids that morning.

He’d been serious when he asked Callie to marry him the night before. She might think it was just so they could adopt those kids, but it was because he’d fallen head over heels in love with the woman. And that little conversation just proved why. She’d make a wonderful mother whether she’d birthed the children or not.

Oh. My. Sweet. Jesus.

His mother’s words when she was worried shot through his mind. Children! They’d been going at it hot and heavy, sleeping together in every sense of the word, and he hadn’t even asked her about birth control. Surely to God, she would have said something if he’d needed to provide protection.

“Hey, it’s the boss’s day to give the kids a day off, with pay of course. If all you guys will help Verdie and Olivia with the inside chores until Callie and I get the feeding done, then all four of you can come out to the barn to help with the horses. I might even throw in five dollars extra for each of you for your Christmas shopping money on Monday if you’d consider that,” Finn said.

“We’d sure earn it, ’cause I don’t like to fold clothes either and I hate to make up beds,” Martin said.

“Not me. I’ll do it,” Ricky said. “I don’t mind making up beds or even mopping if I can have more Christmas money.”

“I’m not just giving you the money. You’ll have to do whatever Verdie tells you to do, and she’s one tough boss when it comes to Saturday morning chores,” Finn said. “But if you think you’re not big enough to do what Olivia can do, well, then you can go with me, and Callie will do the tough stuff.”

Adam puffed out his chest. “I can do anything Olivia can do, and I’m tough enough to do whatever Granny tells me to do. I’ll stay in the house. Pass me the bacon. I need lots of bacon for energy.”

“Well, Verdie!” the bird yelled.

Everyone’s heads jerked around to look at the cage.

“Dammit, Verdie, Joe needs a drink,” he said loudly.

“Where did he learn to ask for a drink?” Finn asked.

“Who in the hell knows?” Verdie said.

“Who in the hell knows?” Joe quipped.

“Guess I’d better watch what I say.” Verdie laughed. “It appears he’s broadening his vocabulary daily.”

“Well, hot damn, Verdie.” Joe pranced from one end of the cage to the other, then he stopped abruptly, tucked his head under his wing, and went to sleep.

“Think we could teach him some new things to say?” Adam asked.

“I guess he’s upset because we play with the cat and the dogs more than we do him,” Olivia answered.

“I think he’s plumb took up with Verdie. He can be her pet,” Martin said.

Finn laughed. “Well, Verdie!”

Verdie shook a pot holder at him. “That’ll be enough out of you. Woman can’t have a damn secret in the world with that tattletale watchin’ her every move.”

She might be scolding him, but the twinkle in her eyes said that she liked the parrot, and Finn would be surprised if he didn’t learn even more new phrases in the next few weeks.

He and Callie both finished breakfast at the same time. She pulled her hair up into a messy-looking ponytail on her way to their wing of the house with him right behind her. He wore a red flannel shirt over his thermal knit shirt, put on two pair of socks and his old worn work boots, and whistled for Shotgun on his way back through the house. The big yellow dog bounded out the back door and into the snow, kicking up a cloud of it in his wake.

Callie stomped her way to the old work truck and let herself inside, slammed the door, and then grabbed her head.

“The cure didn’t work?” he asked.

“Not so good.”

“But you weren’t going to tell Verdie for fear she’d make you drink another one, right?”

“You got it. Now why am I doing chores?”

“Thought we’d have some hayloft sex after we got done feeding,” he teased.

“Hell, no! My poor old head would explode like a ripe watermelon.”

“Well, damn! Some Saturdays just start off bad and get worse. You sit in here with your eyes closed, and I’ll load the feed. Deal?”

She nodded without opening her eyes. “Deal.”

He waited until she was behind the wheel after the first cattle feeder had been filled before he asked, “Callie, I’m not sure how to approach this question.”

“You want to take back the proposal, right? You’ve decided you were drunk and you don’t want to take on a wife and four kids,” she said.

He chuckled. “No, the proposal still stands, as informal and unromantic as it was. And I’m not marrying you because I want four kids. I’m asking you to marry me because I love you, and for the first time in my life, I’m happy. I didn’t realize it, but I’ve always been looking at the grass on the other side of the fence, and now I’m happy inside my own pasture. That’s because you’re here with me and I love you.”

“You calling me a cow?”

He laughed harder. “Not today when you have a headache, but sometimes my grandpa calls my granny an old heifer when she’s being stubborn.”

“I think that’s sweet,” she said.

“Are you serious?”

“As a hangover after a night at Polly’s. Now what’s this sensitive matter?”

“Birth control,” he said.

She gripped the steering wheel until her fingers turned white. “Oh, my Lord! I didn’t even think of birth control. My prescription for them ran out six months ago. I should have thought about it.”

“It’s been a long time for me, too, but I should have been more careful,” he said.

“Shit! What is today?”

“December twentieth.”

“I’m regular as clockwork, Finn, and I’m late.”

“You’re worried that I want to marry you just for the kids. Now I’m worried you’ll say yes so you won’t have a child who has to grow up like you did with no father.”

“I love you too much to do that to you, Finn. It’s probably because of all this stress. Constant feud. Kids. Parties. Changing and accepting that I do like farming. I can’t be pregnant.”

“You like ranchin’?” he teased.

“Yes, I do. It’s different now than it was when I was a kid.”

“Callie, I would love it if you were pregnant,” he whispered.

“Are you sure, Finn? You wouldn’t just be offering to marry me because I might be pregnant.”

“Darlin’, I’d be okay with a dozen kids on Salt Draw. And I want to marry you.”

“I’m going to marry you, Finn, whether I’m pregnant or not and whether we adopt kids or not. You know that already, don’t you? And that’s about as romantic as your proposal,” she said.

He moved across the wide bench seat and kissed her soundly on the cheek. “I’ll take that as a yes. How about three days after Christmas? That’s on Sunday, and we can have it at the church. And we won’t even know for sure if you are pregnant, so you won’t feel like I’m marrying you because I’m responsible,” he said.

She braked and stopped the truck close to the feeding trough of the second pasture full of black cows. “Sometimes being your best friend is tough.”

He turned her cheek around and kissed her on the lips. “I love you. You set the date and I’ll abide by it, but I’m calling Amanda on Monday and telling her to start the adoption proceedings. And, Callie, I don’t feel like you’re my best friend when I come through that closet door.”

“Oh, yeah, cowboy? What am I at that time?”

“The woman I intend to marry and grow old with. The amazing lady who just said yes to this country bumpkin. When are we going to buy rings?”

“Rings? I don’t want rings. I want a gold band. Diamonds aren’t for feeding cattle and rounding up stray puppies.”

He kissed her again, this time with more heat and passion. “I really, really love you, Callie. You tell me when and where, and I’ll be there, but I’m still calling Amanda.”

And now he had to go home and call his mother. He hoped his dad had the roof nailed on real good, because it could shoot right off the house when he told her he was getting married, adopting three orphans plus his new wife’s nephew, and the lady who owned the ranch before had moved back in with him.