Her Mistletoe Cowboy (6 page)

She nodded even though she knew that, barring a power outage, the likelihood of her doing so was as probable as snow falling in a Montana summer. She had her groceries and was now ready to hole herself up inside her grandfather’s childhood home and heal.

The front door clicked shut behind Rhett and she set about unpacking the closest sack. She frowned at the packet of green, red and white sprinkles she held and which there were three more of in the sack. Perhaps she’d gotten a little carried away. She’d soon have enough baked goods to supply the Marietta elementary school plus keep her, Trinity and Henry in sugar cookies until next Christmas.

She bit the inside of her cheek and glanced at the doorway Rhett’s broad shoulders had disappeared through. Sure she needed to be alone but Trinity had reassured her Rhett was a decent guy who wouldn’t be looking to start anything with her. Henry had also vouched for his integrity. Then Rhett had also gone out of his way to help and make sure she and Milly were okay. Even if his touch triggered sensations she shouldn’t feel, her conscience told her she did need to reciprocate his kindness. She removed the other sprinkle packets from the sack. What harm could taking him a regular supply of Christmas treats cause?

*

The smell of
gingerbread let Rhett know his next door Christmas angel had paid him another visit. He kicked off his books in the mudroom and sure enough, when he walked into the kitchen, on the table rested a large container of gingerbread. And it wasn’t only Christmas treats Ivy delivered. An extra red ball hung from the rod above his kitchen window. She’d already hung a small felt candy cane and tiny wreath on her previous visits.

He rubbed a hand around the base of his stiff neck. This was Ivy’s third gift-bearing trip and he was yet to see her to say thank you. Sure he’d been busy repairing the barn but that was no excuse for his bad manners or for letting three days pass.

He withheld a sigh, snapped open the container lid and took out the top star-shaped gingerbread. Upon hearing the clip of Rusty’s nails on the floor he broke the gingerbread into two.

“We can’t get used to this, Rusty. Ivy is here to cook and to lay low and then you and I will be back to eating store-bought snacks that taste like cardboard.”

He shared the sweet gingerbread with a tail-wagging Rusty before retracing his steps to the mudroom. He was going to see Ivy now. Before he got busy again. He swallowed as he buttoned his sheepskin coat. And before he lost his nerve.

He stepped outside into the mid-morning chill. Fresh snow had fallen overnight and dusted the ranch landscape in white. The scene reminded him of the sugar-powdered gingerbread brownie that had been Ivy’s first delivery. His feet dragged as he headed toward the main ranch house.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know the real reason behind finding any excuse not to see Ivy. Even if he did have a neighborly and family obligation to check in on her, after their trip to Marietta his self-preservation had hit the panic button. It was official. He was distracted.

The hours he lay awake thinking about her and the time he wasted stopping work in the barn to peer through the door to catch a distant glimpse of her, diluted his focus. It was as though she was already an addiction and to beat it he had to go cold turkey.

When he’d helped fasten her seat belt, he was sure she would have heard the grinding of his teeth as he’d fought for control. His brushing of her hand hadn’t been intentional, but tell that to his testosterone. The charge from their brief touch still ricocheted through his senses. All he could do now was to implement damage control. He would honor his obligations and do the right thing but keep all contact to the bare minimum.

Snow crunched underfoot as he walked to the front door but the only sound he registered was the pounding of his heart. Even when balanced on 2000 pounds of rodeo bull, he’d never felt so nervous. He’d thank Ivy for her Christmas deliveries, see if she needed anything and hightail it to the barn.

He knocked on the door and jammed his hands into his jacket pockets. No footsteps sounded in the foyer. He braced himself and knocked again. This time he heard steps followed by a thump. He turned the handle.

The door flew open but it wasn’t Ivy on the other side. Instead a tiny white and tan body pushed past his boots, a length of red tinsel hanging from the pup’s mouth. He just managed to catch Milly before she reached the top porch step.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said as she let go of the tinsel, which fell into the snow, and attempted to bite the wool on his sheepskin coat collar. He tucked the puppy under his arm, well away from the soft fleece.

“I told you she’d like your coat,” Ivy said from the doorway her hands on her hips and her chest beneath her long grey sweater rising and falling. She drew a deep breath. “I need to get fitter so she can’t outrun me.”

He nodded as he drank her in. Unfit was the last term he’d use to describe the woman in front of him. Tousled hair fell around her flushed face calling for him to run his hands through the silken strands. Her thick-lashed hazel eyes sparkled with laughter. And while her oversized sweater hem reached her denim-clad thighs, the knitted fabric was fitted enough to reveal her curves.

His self-preservation had a meltdown.

She moved away from the doorway. “Coming in?’

He handed her first the tinsel and then Milly so the pup wouldn’t have a chance to latch onto the red garland. “No, I’d better not. I want to split some firewood before lunch. Speaking of which how are you going for wood?”

“Good thanks. I still have plenty left from the load you brought over the other night.”

Milly wriggled in her grasp, aiming for the tinsel and Ivy hung the decoration over her forearm to keep it out of reach.

He passed a hand over his whiskered chin. “Before I go, I wanted to say thank you for all the gingerbread and cookies. I’m sorry I haven’t called around earlier.”

“You’re welcome. After all the help you’ve given me it’s the least I can do. And seriously please don’t feel you need to come and say thanks. I know how busy you are.”

“Thanks. I do have lots to do if I want to be ready by spring for when my cattle arrive.” If he’d been wearing his Stetson he would have removed the hat and would be turning it in his hands. Now was the moment he should step back and let Ivy close the door. But it was as though the soles of his boots were super-glued to the porch floor. Once so reluctant to visit her, he now couldn’t bring himself to leave. “I did also want to say make sure you let me know if there’s anything you need … like more wood.”

She nodded and glanced at the sky behind him. “It so happens I do need some help. How about you come in out of the cold and I’ll show you what I need done?”

His feet moved forward even before his mind gave the okay. “No worries.”

Still holding a wriggling Milly, Ivy closed the wooden door behind him. She then set Milly on the floor. The pup jumped, sank her teeth into the tinsel hanging from Ivy’s arm, and ran out of the foyer, the tinsel streaming behind her.

“I give up,” Ivy said, amusement threading her words.

He nodded, kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his jacket. Christmas decorations more than compensated for Ivy’s lack of furniture. She’d hung mistletoe in the foyer and further inside wreaths adorned windows and ornaments hung from door and cupboard handles. In a short space of time, she’d made an empty space feel lived in and loved.

He followed her into the kitchen and stopped to touch a gold reindeer that graced the bench. It was only right for her grandfather’s home to be in Ivy’s hands. At the last minute he’d decided against buying both the main ranch house and the land. Even with his rodeo winnings and the money from his mother’s estate, he would have been saddled with a bank debt that would have stolen his sleep. And now, seeing how much this house meant to Ivy, he was thankful he’d been risk averse.

He glanced at her and realized she’d been watching him as he stared at the reindeer.

“How are you at hanging ornaments?” she asked.

“I can’t say I’m an expert but I can tie a mean half hitchknot.”

At her blank look, he smiled. “In a rodeo you tie a half hitchknot to keep a calf’s three legs together for six seconds.”

She laughed. “So tying a ribbon onto a light fixture won’t be a problem?”

“Not at all.”

Her smile widened. “Even if there are twenty-one ornaments and curling ribbon is involved?”

He kinked a brow. “The curling ribbon might be a problem. I’ve two sisters, plus I come from three generations of women with no male children except me. I’ve never had to wrap a present in my life.”

“Well, when you’re done hanging the decorations I can guarantee you’ll be a ribbon tying expert.”

She moved into the kitchen and dug into a box on the bench. She held up a shiny silver ball in which he could see his reflection. Attached to the ball was a long curl of metallic red ribbon.

“I’ve tried, and even standing on a chair, I can’t reach the light let alone tie any fancy half hitchknot.”

He dragged one of the two wooden kitchen chairs to beneath the light.

She passed him the silver ball as he climbed onto the chair. He reached up and easily tied the ribbon around the metal arm of the light fixture. Once he’d attached seven balls to the light he surveyed his handiwork. Red, silver and green balls all dangled at varying lengths, the curling ribbon falling gracefully around them.

“Not bad, if I do say so myself.” He stepped off the chair. “Right, two more lights to go?”

“Yes.”

He shot her a quick look when her affirmation sounded breathless. Her cheeks were also a pretty pink. He shrugged out of his sheepskin coat. Ivy wasn’t the only one flushed by the heat. The house was much warmer than his cabin and he’d soon overheat. He draped his coat beside the reindeer on the bench.

They moved into the living room where a cheerful fire blazed in the stone-worked fireplace. He stood the kitchen chair below the light and climbed onto the sturdy wood. Lips pressed together, Ivy passed him a gold ball.

Warm air played across the bare skin above his belt buckle as he lifted his arms to tie on the ribbon. When tying the balls in the kitchen, his green plaid shirt had worked itself free from the waistband of his jeans. And now he no longer wore his jacket, he could feel the rush of air. He glanced at Ivy who stared at the fire even though she held a second ornament toward him. She hadn’t appeared to notice his state of undress and there was no point tucking his shirt in, it would only come loose.

He reached for the white ball she held. As he stretched to tie the ribbon to the light, instead of rummaging in the box for the next ball, Ivy placed the ornament box on the floor.

“Are you all right without me?” She briefly met his gaze. “The last light to decorate is in the formal dining room off the foyer. I must check on Milly and it’s time for the cinnamon rolls to come out of the oven.”

“Sure.”

And before he could fully assess her expression, she quit the room as though a mountain lion was after her.

‡

T
he kitchen window
creaked as Ivy pushed the pane open to allow icy air to wash over her face.

She closed her eyes against the sting of cold and inhaled the scent of wood smoke. She had no idea where Milly was or what havoc she was causing but before she checked, she needed to strip the telltale flush from her cheeks.

What was wrong with her? Luckily, she’d never run a board meeting sitting next to Rhett because if she had, her work colleagues would never call her ‘The Ice Princess’ again. When she was around Rhett she was about as cool and collected as gelato in a heat wave.

When Rhett’s shirt had pulled free while he’d tied the third kitchen ornament she’d been able to look away. So what if above his silver belt buckle he had washboard abs and skin that looked golden despite the season. It would be okay; she could stand near him and remain immune. She’d never been a woman governed by passion. She’d always appreciated James’ lack of affection and his practicality. After their usual Sunday date-night they’d never linger in each other’s arms knowing they had work to prepare for the upcoming week.