Cowboy Mistletoe Page 10

  The man sitting beside her wasn’t helping get her head on straight either. His muscled thigh brushed hers, and he kept sneaking peeks at her.

  She had a tightness in her chest that wouldn’t dissipate, and it was all because of a man in his best shirt and hat.

  After only a few days in Paradise Valley, she could see herself living here, installed in the small way of life with the biggest heart she’d ever known. Her life back in Illinois seemed pale in comparison. The daily routine involved the same hard work but lacked the joy and love.

  Honestly, she was most likely just looking at the entire scene through the eyes of happiness, but wasn’t that what life was about? Finding that place that made you happier than all others and staking your claim?

  When Case placed his hand under her elbow and urged her to stand for the final chorus of “Joy to the World,” she swayed to her feet with the crowd and tried to focus on the lyrics.

  As soon as Case started singing in his off-key way, she forgot to sing and just listened to him. Damn, how did she even love his terrible singing?

  After the play came cookies and punch, with kids getting their sugar fixes after a high of performing on the small stage. The baby continued to cry until Shelby stuffed a bottle in his mouth and walked around jiggling him.

  Annabelle felt tears mist her eyes. She’d miss all of this so much. After the new year, when would she be able to sneak away to come back?

  “You look like you need this.” Case held out a small plastic cup of red fizzy punch to her.

  She eyed it and then him. As their gazes met, her heart gave a hard shove against her ribs. “This isn’t spiked, is it?”

  His eyes twinkled as he raised his own cup to his lips.

  She sniffed it then took a sip, finding only fruit juice and 7-Up. As she stood watching the festivities break up, she couldn’t help but feel a heavy weight of sadness like a cloak rest on her shoulders.

  Soon she’d leave, and all the children would forget their board games and craft projects. And Case would move on, find a wife and have a family of his own.

  She bit down on that thought, the ache in her chest too great to bear.

  With the punch gone and the cookie platters nothing but crumbs, all the Daltons piled into their cars and headed back to the ranch. She got in with Mr. and Mrs. Dalton, for a moment wondering where Case had gotten to, when he launched into the back seat beside her.

  In the darkness, he held her hand, gently stroking her knuckles with his thumb in a caress that worked straight to her heart.

  Back at the house, everyone was already gathered around the Christmas tree to open gifts at Grandma and Grandpa’s. On Christmas Day, Santa would come to their own homes, and they’d wake up to another gift opening.

  Annabelle scanned the flood of presents under the tree and located the merry red paper she and Case had used to wrap their gifts. The memories lay so thick in her mind, she could hardly concentrate on Hank Jr. passing out gifts until he thrust a few at her.

  One was wrapped in the same red paper.

  She looked up to find Case staring at her.

  She’d agonized over what to give him. Everything seemed too silly or too personal for a simple friend. But they weren’t only friends, were they? They were lovers, and she couldn’t deny she’d leave a piece of her heart here with him.

  Swallowing hard, she gave him a smile. He didn’t return it, only stared harder as if puzzling out what was going on in her mind. She hoped he wouldn’t ask because she couldn’t even figure it out for herself.

  Mrs. Dalton announced it was time to open presents, and paper started flying. Annabelle tried to see who was getting what and if the children enjoyed what she’d chosen for them. But in the craziness, it was impossible. She did catch one of the little girls hugging the doll Annabelle had bought, and that was enough to make her whole holiday.

  Case had somehow picked his way across the debris of paper and toys littering the floor to her side. “You haven’t opened anything.”

  Feeling as if the world was shut out and she and Case were alone in a snow globe of raining Christmas wrap, she picked up a flat gift. To Annabelle Love Charlotte.

  She sought her friend’s eye, but she was busy fighting the packaging of a toy truck for one of the boys. When Annabelle pulled off the paper to see the leather-bound memory book, tears flooded her vision.

  She opened the pages, finding a few snapshots of them years ago in the coffee shop where they’d met. Most of the pages were blank, though. An invitation to fill with new memories of their friendship? She had a few snapshots of her time here she could add, but she’d need to return many times to fill the entire book.

  Case was watching her—too closely.

  She ducked her head and opened another package from Mr. and Mrs. Dalton, who’d been so gracious hosting her that she felt she shouldn’t receive another thing from them. But the beautiful stationary set and marbleized pen were so beautiful, she made her way through the mess to hug them each.

  After sitting down again, her feet buried in torn paper, she looked at her last gift. Case watched her even harder as she picked up the red gift.

  The weight surprised her, and her gaze flew to his. He gave her that crooked smile but it wasn’t as lazy as usual—he was nervous.

  Heart pounding, she ripped open the paper. The tall skinny box didn’t give away what was inside, and she used her fingernail to slit a small piece of tape on top. Reaching in, her hand met cool glass. She wrapped her fingers around the neck of a bottle.

  When she pulled it out, her throat closed off completely.

  A bottle of the special wine Mr. and Mrs. Dalton had shared on their wedding day.

  She couldn’t meet Case’s gaze or she’d break down in tears. This was too much—too much meaning, too much pressure. She didn’t want him to have fallen for her, because she’d leave and break his heart.

  She slipped the bottle back into the box and shot to her feet. Somehow she made it through the firetrucks and plastic ball bats to get to the door. The porch was solid under her feet, but she still felt tipsy, uncertain of where she belonged in this world. A few days had changed everything.

  The door opened, and she shouldn’t want to run, but her muscles tightened.

  She pivoted to see Case—who else?—standing there holding the box of wine.

  “You didn’t see all of your present, Annabelle.”

  She gulped back a pained cry. Reluctantly, she reached for the box. The wine was nestled in the box, but she reached in and found a folded paper. When she withdrew it, she gave him a puzzled look.

  “A newspaper?”

  He nodded. “The job listings, sweetheart.”

  Head spinning, she unfolded the paper and peered at the words, holding the paper toward the buttery yellow light spilling from the windows of the house. In red marker, he’d circled a listing.

  Fifth grade teacher wanted for upcoming school year. Apply early.

  “Oh God. Case…”

  The hope on his face broke her. She bowed her head, and a tear splashed onto the paper.

  “You don’t have to leave Paradise Valley, sweetheart. You can stay on, teach at the school.”

  “Case.”

  “You don’t even have to live here—there are places in town to rent. Above Shelby’s shop, for one. She’s said—”

  “Case.”

  In one big step, he was with her, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her onto tiptoe. “I’m not ready to let you go, Annabelle.”

  * * * * *

  “Thank you for the memory book. It means so much to me.” Annabelle and Charlotte sat in the corner of the kitchen table talking over coffee, the Christmas Day dinner dishes cleared and washed, the kids gathered outside in a rousing game of kickball. The men had stomped out to the barn to look at something or other, but Annabelle secretly thought they just wanted to escape the hot house and all the noise for a few.

  Charlotte laid her hand over Annabelle’s. “
I knew you’d like it. I wish I had more pictures of us.”

  “I have a few at home I’ll add. The ones I took recently I’ll have printed and add them.”

  Charlotte eyed her.

  “What is it?” She raised her mug to her lips and sipped the dark brew that hit the spot after the heavy meal of ham and potatoes, a half dozen salads and vegetables, and of course, homemade bread.

  “What did you think of Case’s gift.”

  She sputtered, coffee spurting from her lips onto her sweater. With a giggle, Charlotte handed her a napkin and she used it to mop at her dark green sweater.

  “At least it isn’t white,” her friend said.

  “You knew about Case’s gift?”

  She nodded. “He came up one day to talk to Hank and they dragged me in to get my opinion since I’m your friend.”

  “And what did you say?”

  Charlotte searched Annabelle’s face, just like she had back in the days of Nick. “I know it’s the same wine Ted and Maggie toasted with on their wedding day.”

  Annabelle dropped her gaze to her twisting fingers. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

  “How about starting with if you’re in love with him too.”

  She jerked her stare up to meet Charlotte’s. “In love? Case isn’t in love with me.”

  Charlotte sat back in her seat and lifted her mug. “No?”

  She shook her head so hard that her hair trailed back and forth over her shoulders.

  “I know a smitten Dalton man when I see him. And Case is head over boots for you, girlfriend.”

  “No, he can’t be.” Could he? Her poor heart wasn’t going to survive the ups and downs, leaps and falls of the rest of her days here on the ranch.

  “Why can’t he be? You’re amazing, smart, funny and a born country girl, even if you weren’t raised to it.”

  Annabelle was silent a long time, studying her fingers. “Do you know about the newspaper?”

  Charlotte gave a tinkling laugh that had Annabelle gaping at her. “Know about it? Heck, I gave it to him.” She smiled at Annabelle. “I don’t want you to leave either. We all love having you here. Would you consider interviewing for the teaching position?”

  A scary feeling of giddiness stole over Annabelle. She couldn’t even blame it on the caffeine injection from the coffee. Not when her heart was hanging ribbons and bows all over the idea of teaching in the nearby school and living close enough to Case to see him every day.

  “I-I’m not sure, Charlotte.”

  “You said yourself that you don’t have much at home anymore. Your family’s scattered and that sense of a big family is gone. At least there.”

  Annabelle swallowed. Maybe she could get an interview in the next few days before leaving Paradise Valley. Even though she wouldn’t hear an answer right away, she’d be going back to finish the school year in Illinois anyway.

  He’s just a flight away.

  “Charlotte…”

  Hope filled her friend’s eyes and she bounced her knees excitedly. “Anything—I’ll do anything you ask.”

  A grin plastered itself on Annabelle’s face. “You know a lot of people at the school, don’t you?”

  “Uh-huh. And I bet I can wrangle a meeting with the superintendent in the next day or two, especially after I see him later today.”

  Her brows shot up. “Today?”

  “Yes, he’s picking up a pony for his granddaughter, who’s coming for the New Year. Hank Jr.’s been training it all season to get it ready to ride.”

  Annabelle stared toward the window, lost in thought.

  When Charlotte’s hand came down on her knee, she jumped. “What are you thinking? You’re a million miles away. Or maybe just outside where Case is?”

  Annabelle shook her head. Charlotte’s words were only partially true. “I was thinking I didn’t bring an interview outfit.”

  “Oh, that’s no problem. You can raid my closet. Come up first thing in the morning and we’ll find you something. I’m so happy you’re doing this, Annabelle.”

  Now she was really in the pressure cooker. What if she was passed over for the position?

  * * * * *

  This had to be Case’s lucky day. On his way to the house to get cleaned up after a hard day’s work and by happy coincidence, he ran into the prettiest little filly he’d ever seen.

  With her back to him, Annabelle made a striking silhouette against the array of fiery reds and pinks streaking the sky as the sun set.

  He approached slowly so as not to frighten her, but she still jumped when he put a hand on her waist. “I’m sorry I startled you,” he rumbled in her ear.

  She covered his hand with her own and leaned back against him. “I was daydreaming.”

  “It’s a mighty pretty view to daydream to.” The fact she adored the ranch and all its beauty as much as he did filled his chest with warmth.

  She gave a soft sigh of contentment. He could stand here and hold her all night and well into the morning. Well, maybe not only hold her. Her round ass butted against his groin was already giving him lascivious thoughts.

  Bending closer, he rubbed his stubbled jaw over her throat. “I haven’t properly thanked you for the razor you gave me for Christmas. But I don’t think you want me to use it just yet.” He stroked his rough cheek up to her ear and nibbled her earlobe.

  She gasped and twisted into his arms. Their gazes connected a split second before she went on tiptoe and kissed him. Passion he barely kept bottled up all day rocketed out of him. With a palm on her spine, he pulled her into the kiss, tongues swirling and desire taking control.

  The breeze washed over them, trickling through the strands of Annabelle’s hair and making them wave out. He sank his fingers into the tendrils and she issued a soft moan.

  “I need you, Case.”

  “Our room’s still set up in the bunkhouse.”

  She gazed into his eyes for a long heartbeat. Her eyes were alight with the lust he’d seen the other times things heated up between them. But her mouth was grim. The odd mixture left him confused and a little shaken.

  “Everything okay?” he asked quietly as though soothing a spooked animal.

  She nodded. “I just need to… get something from my room. I’ll meet you there, all right?”

  It went against everything in him to let her go, but he watched her walk back to the house and disappear inside. As he made his way to the bunkhouse, he tried to figure her out. What could she be getting? She’d seemed almost sad. Or maybe it was uncertain. Either way, something was off and he didn’t like it.

  The bunkhouse wasn’t far, but it took him ages to reach it. Every step felt like doom. Why was he thinking this way? She was meeting him, and maybe she was just popping to her room to grab another blanket or slip into something sexy.

  Though she was plenty sexy in a simple plaid shirt and jeans. He could barely keep his hands to himself.

  The door to the bunkhouse opened smoothly on well-oiled hinges. The inside was painted in the fading colors of the sunset, and it was easy to picture Annabelle spread under that pinkish glow, naked and begging him with her eyes to come to her.

  His pulse throbbed heavily, and his cock thickened. No matter what arguments she put before him, he wasn’t going to hear them. He knew she felt the same about him—she just wouldn’t admit it for fear of leading him on. Well, he’d already been led out to pasture and was ready to settle in—with Annabelle.

  Staring at the rumpled bed they’d shared before, his heart surged into his throat. He was in love with her, wasn’t walking away from that and pretending the emotion didn’t consume him.

  He’d make her see they were meant to be together, that nothing was chance. Some force had brought her to Paradise Valley, and him.

  The footfall behind him made him turn. All the words he’d been preparing to unleash on her died on his tongue when he saw what she was holding.

  The wine. His aunt and uncle’s celebratory drink, the one
that year after year they toasted to and solidified their bond.

  Her face was in shadow as she stepped into the bunkhouse, but he crossed the room in three strides and cupped her face in his hands. “Annabelle, sweetheart, please tell me this means what I think it does.”

  She lifted her free hand to stroke her knuckles over his stubbled jaw. Searching his eyes, she whispered, “Why did you give me the wine in the first place?”

  At the time he’d purchased the second bottle, he hadn’t totally understood his compulsion. But by the time the holiday rolled around, he’d been ready to tell her in gift form how he felt about her.

  Now it was time to say the words.

  “Because I’m in love with you.”

  Her lips parted on a silent sigh.

  “And I want to start our own traditions. Just us and a bottle to toast to our future.” The final word came out rougher with a choked note of uncertainty. She could so easily crush him, but he didn’t believe she’d come here with wine in hand to do that.

  She stepped back from him and raised the wine. She withdrew a corkscrew from her back pocket, and he watched with a lump in his throat as she twisted it into the cork.

  In a sweet soprano, she started to hum. With a shock, he realized it was the song he’d been singing in the wagon that night of their horse-drawn ride. Only he’d been off-key as usual, and she sounded like an angel.

  When the cork resisted her strength, he quirked a brow at her in question. She nodded and he took over. In a blink, the cork was free and the fruity aroma of the wine flooded out.

  Their gazes locked. “I didn’t bring any glasses.”

  “Who needs ’em?” He held out the bottle to her, and she took it.

  Raising it to her lips, she held his gaze. “To us,” she whispered.

  A whoop of victory lodged in his throat, but he didn’t do a jig around the room or pick her up and toss her on the bed like he wanted. He stepped nearer and smoothed the hair away from her face. “To us.”

  She tipped the bottle and sipped. Then she handed it to him.

  Taking a sip felt like an exchange of vows. It was on the tip of his tongue to say I do, but he had no doubt that soon enough he’d be walking down an aisle with her at his side, on their way to beginning a new life together.