Saving the Cowboy's Christmas, page 1
SAVING THE COWBOY’S CHRISTMAS
ROWDY RANCH
VICKI LEWIS THOMPSON
SAVING THE COWBOY’S CHRISTMAS
Copyright © 2024 by Vicki Lewis Thompson
ISBN: 978-1-63803-916-7
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Ocean Dance Press, PO Box 69901, Oro Valley AZ 85737
Visit the author’s website: VickiLewisThompson.com
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Also by Vicki Lewis Thompson
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
“Iwish ya luck, luv.” Granny Haggerty’s brow puckered as she gazed at Rance. “But she’ll be knowin’ ya tricked her. She’ll eat yer head off.”
“Probably.” When the McLintocks had welcomed Kieran Haggerty and his grandma to Rowdy Ranch back in October, Rance had engineered having Granny temporarily housed in his guest room until her cabin was built.
He had many reasons for it and this was one of them. She gave good advice. And she was solidly against his plan to rope Lani into taking a private sleigh ride. “But telling her Sara and Kieran were going was the only way—”
“Apart from tellin’ her the truth, that you have a special gift for her.” Granny crossed her arms over the green checked apron covering her ample chest. A recent perm and a golden blonde dye job made her look like a cherub, especially since a lifetime in Ireland had blessed her with wrinkle-free cheeks. “You’ll be startin’ off with a lie.”
“A little white one. The only lie I’ve ever told her. I’ll confess the minute she questions me.” He took his jacket from the coat rack by the door and shoved his arms into the sleeves.
“Why wait? Tell her straight off they weren’t ever plannin’ ta go. Admit ya lied and promise never to do it again.”
“Hm.” He buttoned up and grabbed his Stetson off the rack. A full confession could be a wise move. “Okay, I’ll do that.”
Granny smiled, her blue gaze warm. “Good on you, boyo.”
“I’ll be back in time to take you over to the house for tea.” He slung a backpack over his shoulder and picked up a festively wrapped package from a table by the door. She’d helped him tie the fancy red bow.
“You’ll be back sooner than that if she refuses ta—”
“I doubt she will.” He hefted the package. “I’m counting on this.”
“’Tis a precious gift, lad.” She paused. “Nervous, are you?”
“Like a paratrooper leaping into battle.” Bending down, he kissed her cheek.
She flushed and patted his arm. “Go on with ya. I’ll be lightin’ a candle after ya leave.”
“Thank you for that.” Picking up his keys, he opened the door and slipped out quickly to minimize the blast of cold air on Granny. She would never know how much he cherished her prayers.
The midday sun had warmed Thunder’s cab, but not much. Cold leather chilled his butt. He laid the backpack on the floor and the package on the passenger seat. His stomach felt like he’d eaten a handful of habanero chilis and washed them down with 100-proof tequila.
Two weeks ago, this plan had looked brilliant. At least to him. Sara and Kieran had agreed to help. They could hardly say no when he’d worked so hard to nurture their romance.
But they’d warned him Lani would back out the minute she sensed a trap. That’s why Granny’s suggestion was a good one. He’d disarm her first thing by explaining he had a top-secret Christmas present he didn’t want anyone else to know about.
Nobody except Granny. For almost two months she’d been his muse and accomplice. In exchange, he’d knocked himself out showing his gratitude.
Prior to her arrival with Kieran, he’d scoured antique stores to find a bed that looked like the four-poster she’d left behind. The matching dresser had been a bonus. On impulse, he’d bought a framed watercolor of the Irish countryside.
She’d cried happy tears when he’d shown her into her room, which he’d made up with the linens she’d shipped ahead. She’d also mailed a small collection of framed pictures and knickknacks. He’d unpacked and arranged those, too.
One was a picture of her late daughter, Kieran’s mother and Lucky’s, as it turned out. That lady’s spirit of adventure had been the source of so much pain, and now so much happiness. Including his.
Before making his bid to have Granny stay with him, he’d checked with Lucky and Kieran to make sure he wasn’t stepping on toes. Lucky was grateful. His busy schedule with the second bookstore meant he and Oksana would be forced to leave Granny alone in their cabin for days at a time.
Kieran and Sara were bunking in the kids’ wing until their cabin was finished. Granny could have done the same, which would have put her close to them. A mite too close, considering without her they’d have the wing to themselves now that the senior Armstrongs were in their new cabin and Lani was staying in their guest room.
Kieran and Sara would never have brought up the privacy issue, but evidently Granny had figured it out because she’d specifically asked to move in with Rance for the time being. Excellent choice. She had her own bathroom and free rein in the kitchen. Her pool game was coming along nicely, too.
Rance arrived at the barn thirty minutes ahead of the time everyone was supposed to meet. That way he could help Buck tack up Thor and hitch him to the sleigh. Yesterday they’d hauled it from the tractor barn to a spot close to the horse barn.
It looked damned good sitting there in the snowy yard. Over Thanksgiving Angie had given it a fresh coat of red paint, touched up the gilt trim and polished the fancy curved runners.
Once the caramel-colored Belgian was hitched to it, the sleigh became something out of a storybook. Just what he had in mind for this encounter with Lani.
As he shut off the engine, Buck came out of the barn leading Thor. The big guy’s ears barely cleared the lintel as Buck took him over toward the sleigh.
He was already tacked up, too. So much for helping with that part. It was just like Buck to get a head start, though.
Rance left the package in the truck, along with a small bag of carrot pieces he’d stuck in the backpack. If he left them in the backpack, Thor would smell them and want his treat early.
Grabbing the pack, he climbed out. “Thanks for tacking him up, Buck.”
“Happy to.” He thumbed back his hat and gave Rance a smile. “I’m glad you’re taking him out. He could use a few trips with the sleigh before we trailer him into town for the Christmas Eve gig.”
“I’ve heard they sold a bunch of tickets.”
“I bought several myself.”
“Me, too. ” The Main Street sleigh ride was a popular Wagon Train tradition — fun for all and the proceeds benefitted needy families. If today turned out the way he hoped, Lani would agree to take that ride with him on Christmas Eve.
He deposited the backpack in the sleigh. He’d brought a thermos of hot chocolate and two mugs for when they stopped in the meadow. Theoretically, he’d give her the present at that point.
He and Buck worked well together and they hitched up Thor in a jiffy. That gave him time to explain his plan, mentioning a special gift but not specifying what it was. “So I won’t need you to drive, after all,” he said. “I’ll do it.”
Buck’s expression was much like Granny’s had been. He shook his head. “She’s gonna be ticked off at you, son.”
“I’m hoping she’ll forgive me after she opens my gift.”
“Please don’t tell me you got her a ring. That would be—”
“Suicide?”
“No kidding! She doesn’t even like you all that much, let alone love you.”
He was aware of that fact. He turned her on, though, also a fact. Her reluctance to be alone with him proved it. “I’m not giving her a ring. Something better.”
“What?”
“I can’t tell you yet, but I—” The sound of a truck drew his attention to the road. He’d offered to pick Lani up from her parents’ cabin but she’d refused his offer. Instead she was borrowing her folks’ new truck.
“That’s probably her.” If so, she was early. And he hadn’t transferred the package to the sleigh.
“That’s my cue to head on home and leave you to work this out.” Buck laid a hand on his shoulder. “I advise you to tell her right away that you’ve pulled a fast one.”
“I will. Granny said the same thing.” The sound of the truck grew louder. Soon it would make the turn and Lani would be able to see him move the package.
Buck grinned. “I’m not surprised. Are you bringing Granny over for tea this afternoon? Marybeth’s counting on it.”
“I am. Those two really hit it off.” Yeah, he’d have to move it with her watching him. Not optimal.
“Yep. I had no idea my wife had such a hankering to reminisce about her summer in Ireland. Okay, I’m off. Give me a call when you come back. It’s easier with two of us.” He gave Thor’s flank an affectionate pat and walked toward the path he’d shoveled after the last snow. He and Marybeth lived a convenient three-minute walk from the barn.
Rance strolled toward his truck just as the Armstrong’s school-bus yellow truck appeared in his peripheral vision. Climbing in the driver’s side, he tucked the package inside his jacket and left the truck, again maintaining a leisurely pace.
A thick green lap robe was stored in a compartment under the seat of the sleigh. Taking it out, he laid the package on the wooden floor and casually tossed the blanket so it was partly on the seat and partly on the floor.
Lani pulled in on the far side of Thunder. He wouldn’t be able to see her climb out.
What if she’d decided to invite her folks at the last minute? That had never occurred to him. It could happen. The sleigh held six.
Heart pumping fast, he waited to see who appeared around Thunder’s back bumper. Lani walked toward him. Alone. Thank the Lord.
“Where is everybody?” She glanced around. “Where’s Buck? Did you hitch up Thor by yourself?”
“No, I—”
“The sleigh looks great. I’m a little early, but I thought Kieran and Sara would be out here helping. I didn’t want to sail in like some princess when all the work was done.”
She delivered the words fast, the way she did when she was nervous. The cold air kissed her cheeks and turned them pink while sunlight caressed her hair, teasing out the multiple shades of brown.
Pulling a red knit hat from the pocket of her coat, she tugged it on while looking everywhere but at him. “Should I go up to the house and get them?” She took knit gloves from her other pocket. “I can imagine Sara oversleeping, but Kieran’s not the type to—”
“They’re not coming.”
That got her to look at him, her hazel eyes narrowing. “Why not?”
“Because… they were never supposed to go. I set this up so I could—”
“You ratfink!” She clenched her gloved hands.
He almost laughed. Who said that anymore? “I have a good reason.”
“No, you don’t.” Her cheeks flushed to a deeper pink. “Whatever lamebrained excuse you come up with will never be good enough to justify this.” She swept a hand toward Thor and the sleigh. “You got me out of bed for nothing. You got this poor horse out of bed for nothing.” She spun on her heel.
“Lani, wait.”
“No chance.” She stormed off toward the yellow truck, her arms swinging at her sides.
He followed her. “I have something for you. It’s your favorite thing in the world.”
She paused but didn’t turn. “That’s impossible.”
“Is it?” He stopped a few paces away, giving her space.
“You don’t even know my favorite thing.”
“I do, because you told me.”
“I did not.”
“Technically you told my mom, but I was there. You said your favorite thing was getting a manuscript from a promising writer. You said it was like opening a present on Christmas morning.”
She turned. “You have Oksana’s next book?”
“No.”
“Then whose?”
“Mine.”
CHAPTER TWO
For a few seconds Lani lost her balance as the world shifted under her feet. Rance wrote a book? Impossible. He wouldn’t be able to sit still long enough.
He had to be pranking her. Yeah, that was it. “I can’t imagine where you’re going with this nutty conversation but count me out.” She headed for her parents’ truck.
He hurried after her, his long strides catching her easily. “You don’t believe me?”
“I do not.”
“Wait here. I’ll fetch it.”
Her pesky curiosity got the better of her. Might as well find out what constituted a book in his mind. She turned around and sure enough, here he came carrying a rectangular package wrapped in festive paper topped with an elaborate velvet bow.
If he’d tied that bow then she was Elmer Fudd. But the box was more than two inches thick. If it contained a manuscript, it wasn’t just a few pages. What the hell was he up to?
Stopping in front of her, he paused to catch his breath, his gaze fixed on that elaborate red bow.
An uneasy feeling grew in the pit of her stomach. She could be wrong, but she was picking up an emotion she’d never associated with Rance McLintock. Was he anxious?
He glanced up, a crease between his dark brows. “I realize these days manuscripts are submitted digitally, but you’ve said the publisher you work for still takes hard copy.” He swallowed.
Oh, no. He really had written a book. And he was giving it to her. In Christmas wrapping paper with a horse and sleigh motif, no less.
Gone was his jaunty self-confidence. She’d worked with enough first-time authors to appreciate the courage he’d summoned to get through this moment. She’d have to be made of stone not to empathize.
The warm squishy feeling in her chest was just that — empathy. Nothing more. “What kind of book is it?” Maybe it would be non-fiction and she could pass it on to a colleague.
“Fiction.” He cleared his throat. “A contemporary Western.”
“Oh.” Right up her alley. Considering his mom wrote historical Westerns, which he’d been reading all his life, his similar-but-different choice made sense.
“This is the first in a series. There will be a mystery in each book.” His voice steadied. “The hero’s a former deputy who left law enforcement and bought a bar. He has an Irish granny.”
“I see.” No wonder he’d wanted Granny to stay with him. Research.
“The heroine’s family is Italian and she’s the elected sheriff of this small town where the bar’s located. She discovers that the bar owner makes a good undercover agent.” He was into it, now, a glow of excitement chasing away the last of his anxiety. “Their relationship is something like that old TV show with Bruce Willis and Cybill Shepherd.”
“Moonlighting?”
“That’s the one. Just substitute a small Western town for LA.”
“So Moonlighting, only with cowboys.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Dammit, he’d come up with a viable story concept. She was already writing the blurb in her head, imagining the marketing campaign, seeing potential cover treatments.
But this was Rance, the guy she’d vowed to stay away from. Far, far away. Anyway, she still didn’t know if he could write. He was the son of an NYT bestseller, but so were all the McLintock kids and nobody else in that bunch had written a book. Oksana, Lucky’s wife, was the only other author in the family.
Meeting his gaze, she pretended the sizzle in her veins was professional enthusiasm. “Does your mom know about this?”
“Not yet. Nobody does except Granny. And now you.”
“You’ve written an entire book while living in the midst of this close-knit family and nobody knows? Or even suspects?”
“Why would they? When I told you, you didn’t believe me.”
“Yes, but I’m only a casual visitor. I don’t know you as well as they do.”
“I can play my cards close to the vest.”
“Maybe. To a point, but still.”
“It’s not as tough as you think. I live alone and have a fair amount of unobserved free time. I give the impression that I spend most of it playing pool.”
“That’s logical since you’re so good at it.”
“And shooting pool is also great for working through a tricky plot problem.”
Every word out of his mouth strengthened the possibility that he was the real deal. He talked like a writer, a serious writer with a goal and a plan.
