Cowboy Mistletoe Page 2

  The gift card was addressed to somebody named Marley.

  Not only was her boyfriend two-timing her, it was with a skinny rail of a woman four sizes smaller than Annabelle.

  Christmas number two had ended with Annabelle tossing Maxwell out on his ass and a whole lot of rum. She’d been so drunk the entire weekend that she hardly recalled seeing her relatives, and she hadn’t heard from them since.

  She twisted her lips as she rolled a pair of warm reindeer-patterned socks and slipped them into the suitcase. Two crappy holidays in a row. She didn’t expect this year’s to be better—only different.

  She’d never been to a real working ranch, and Charlotte’s family was huge. The man she’d married had four brothers and they all had big families of their own. Actually, Annabelle was hoping to throw herself into Christmastime with children and experience the joy through them. One thing about being single and on a school break was how much she missed her class. Third grade was such a shapeable age and so full of wonder.

  Charlotte had been begging Annabelle to visit for years, and this year when she’d extended the invitation again, Annabelle had finally asked herself what she had to lose.

  Nothing.

  Living alone with not even a goldfish, and with her mom, dad and little brother living hours away, she was on her own.

  The last of the clothing went into the suitcase, along with a shoe bag with a pair of flats. She stood back, thinking of the holly-red coat. In the end, she went back to her closet and brought out a red plaid scarf.

  A girl had to have something red on Christmas, right?

  Her phone buzzed with an incoming text, and she threw herself down on her bed to read it.

  I hate to say this, but plans are out of control. I’m sending the Daltons’ nephew to pick you up at the airport. His name’s Case and he looks like this.

  A photo popped onto her screen of a twenty-something cowboy, face half-turned away from the camera.

  Okay, wow.

  Annabelle issued a maybe-there-is-a-Santa-after-all sigh.

  She was grateful Charlotte couldn’t hear. She didn’t want her friend thinking she was already crushing on the cute guy who seemed to be looking off into a sunset. Heck, he probably was.

  On the heels of her reaction to this nephew, her heart dropped. Her worst fear had been realized—she was officially a pain in their butts. The last thing she wanted.

  Poising her thumbs over the keyboard to reply with just that, she read Charlotte’s next text.

  Now don’t even say you’re a pain.

  How well Charlotte knew her.

  I just got my days mixed up, and it’s the kids’ Christmas show at school. I’m sorry you’re going to miss it. But I’ve told Case to take good care of my bestie and treat you to pie on the way home at our favorite joint.

  Annabelle sighed again as she looked at Case Dalton’s picture. Strong profile, a jaw so sharp that it could cut timber and a small depression in his cheek that might be a dimple if he smiled.

  From the photo, she couldn’t tell his personality—or what she was getting into. Charlotte would only have her best interests at heart, but Annabelle wasn’t sure she could make small-talk with a cowboy stranger. What could they possibly have in common?

  In the end, what choice did she have? She had to get to Paradise Valley, and Case was her ride.

  She texted back: Tell him I’ll be wearing a red scarf.

  Chapter Two

  Red scarf. Red scarf. Case searched the passengers milling into the luggage collection area of the airport. All of them were in various states of stressed-out. He hoped he wasn’t picking up an uptight—

  He caught sight of a red scarf. The woman walked behind a taller man, and Case couldn’t see much of her. Just an arm, swinging lightly at her side and the end of that red scarf lying against the shoulder of her tan coat.

  Dodging to the side, Case moved nearer to get her attention before she missed him. He was jittery—why? He wasn’t one to get a case of nerves, especially over meeting someone new.

  Maybe because Charlotte had drilled the details into him so many times, he had no hope of not screwing this up.

  Annabelle hasn’t been to Texas since her college days. She’ll be nervous, so take good care of her.

  She will be hungry after her flight, so make sure you feed her. There’s that place on the way home and they have the best pie.

  Annabelle might be tired. She’s a third-grade teacher, you know. These Dalton kids are crazy with thoughts of Santa Claus, so I can’t imagine twenty-five of them in a classroom.

  He’d told her the family was well on their way to finding out if they didn’t quit reproducing, and she’d smacked him lightly and shot Hank a sideways glance.

  Finally, the reminder that replayed most in Case’s head—Annabelle’s had a couple bad Christmases in a row. We want to give her the best, most relaxing holiday we can, and that starts with you, Case.

  No pressure.

  The tall man moved aside, giving Case a clear shot of the woman with the red scarf. His gaze flashed to her face, her complexion peaches and cream. Warm brown hair tumbled over an arching brow. She wore glasses, just like a schoolteacher should.

  She was looking down at her phone, giving him a chance to study her without her knowledge. Small, upturned nose, pointed chin. A full set of lips twisted in thought.

  When she glanced up, she met his stare.

  His heart gave an odd stutter he couldn’t exactly call a flip-flop. That only happened when he was about to take a hoof to the shin or some other painful blow from cattle. But the weird sensation made him stare all the harder at Annabelle.

  She drifted to a stop a few feet from him. The flow of traffic backed up behind her, and people split off to go around. Case caught her by the elbow and steered her out of the path of people. Her bones felt delicate, light, impossibly small under his big, fumbling fingers.

  Releasing her, he opted for a smile rather than the creepy leer he must be giving her.

  “Howdy. You must be Annabelle.”

  “You’re Case. I recognize you from your photo.”

  Surprised, he blinked. Charlotte must have snapped some random photo of him and sent it to her friend. He didn’t know what to think of that.

  He glanced down at the bag in her grip and held out a hand to take it. She seemed reluctant to pass it to him, but in the end, she did. Their fingers brushed on the handle, and again he got a strange zap.

  Now he was being plain stupid. Nervous over a woman. Case wasn’t an awkward young pup without experience. He was twenty-five years old with a trail of broken hearts behind him. And Annabelle was a cute little schoolteacher from the Midwest. Hardly intimidating.

  Using a forefinger, she pushed her glasses up her nose. The plastic frames gave her a vintage look that made him smile.

  “C’mon. The luggage carousel’s this way.” He tipped his head in the direction.

  “Oh, I only have the carryon.”

  “A woman who travels light? I’m impressed.”

  She laughed, a low sound far huskier than he’d expected from her. The sound curled like smoke through him.

  “Did you expect a bag for every day I’m staying in Paradise Valley? I don’t need much.” Her lips bowed upward, but it was her eyes that really did the smiling. This woman might be feeling dreary about the holidays, but she wasn’t an unhappy person, an old spinster school marm.

  Her eyes were a deeper shade of brown than her hair, warm and glowing with a mischief that probably held her students’ attention.

  Why in the name of Roy Rogers was he thinking this stuff? He shook himself and waved toward the exit.

  “My truck’s in one of the temporary parking lots. If you’re ready…?”

  She nodded.

  As he led her toward the doors, he noted how she had to walk fast to keep up and he slowed his pace. Shooting her a look, he said, “Sorry, I tend to dislike crowds. I don’t always walk this fast.”

&
nbsp; “With those long legs, it’s no wonder I can’t keep up.” She looked down at her own denim-covered legs, much shorter than his. But perfectly curvy.

  When they reached the doors, he held one open for her to pass first. A waft of her perfume reached him, just a little spice, a little sweetness. Almost like a cookie.

  Thank heavens for the Texas winters and their cooler temperatures. He didn’t need any more reason to be thinking warm thoughts. Apparently, he’d spent far too long on the ranch and without a girlfriend.

  Outside, she paused on the sidewalk and looked around. She drew in a deep breath. “Wow, I didn’t realize how much I missed the smell of Texas.”

  He nodded, understanding what she meant. The few times he’d left the state, he’d come home and inhaled deeply too. Not that the airport smelled like anything but gas fumes and the nearby trash receptacle.

  “You went to University of Texas at Austin?” He’d have to thank Charlotte for giving him enough particulars to hold a conversation with Annabelle. Especially when what he wanted to talk about was how pretty she looked in that red scarf.

  She nodded. “I see my friend has been updating you.”

  He ducked his head with a smile. “That’s right. She talks about you a lot.”

  Annabelle groaned, that throatiness in her voice like a vibration along his senses. “Should I be worried?”

  “Unless it’s about a pajama party in the dorm when you were wearing the maroon and white of the rival team, then no.”

  She groaned louder. “Oh, that made my fellow University of Texas-ers foam at the mouth. I was dating someone from the rival university at the time. Leave it to Charlotte to make that a topic of conversation.”

  He chuckled. “You’ll find on the ranch that we like our football seasons, but we’re mostly too busy to bother with more than talking about the scores over dinner.” He sent her a long, appraising look. “You sure you’re ready to jump into the chaos of the Dalton family at Christmas?”

  Now she looked worried, nibbling her lip. The action shouldn’t send a tingle through his stomach, yet it did. Undeniably.

  She pushed up her glasses again. “Do I have a choice now? I’m already here.”

  He laughed. “I can put you back on a plane?”

  She squared her shoulders. “Nah, I’m good. I come from a big family too.”

  Catching the remorse in her tone, he weighed his words.

  She spoke up. “If you think I’m escaping one for another, you’re wrong. My family doesn’t do much in the way of holidays now that my grandmother’s gone. It’s sad really—she was the glue that held us all together.”

  “Well, we’re glad to have you.” They reached the truck, and he opened the door for her before putting her luggage carefully into the back. It was heavy enough it shouldn’t fly out on the highway, but to be sure, he pushed his heavy toolbox against it.

  When he settled behind the wheel, he fixed his attention on Annabelle. She sat primly in the passenger’s seat, knees together and hands in her lap.

  “You hungry? There’s a good place up the road to stop and grab a bite.”

  It was the nearly dinner hour, and by the time they got home, it would be well past supper. Aunt Maggie always kept a good supply of leftovers in the fridge for the hungry Daltons to grab when they came in from outside, but Case hoped Annabelle would want to stop and eat. He didn’t relish the thought of heating up leftovers in the microwave for her.

  Besides, Charlotte would kick his ass.

  “I’m not very hungry yet, but if you’d like to…” She offered a tight smile.

  She was as nervous as he was. Somehow, that made him feel better. He put the truck into reverse and backed out of the space. She offered to pay his parking fee, but he waved off her money and finally headed onto the open road.

  * * * * *

  Case Dalton’s eyes were as blue as she remembered the Texas skies to be. On first sight, her knees had gone a little wobbly, which was silly. He was just a man, flesh and blood like any other.

  Except he was huge with a calm, strong presence that inspired images of lying on their backs, staring up at the clouds passing by, the fresh scents of grass surrounding them.

  Her first impression was that Case Dalton was a man who got a lot of female attention. On their way out of the airport, he received a lot of glances and appraising looks. In those fitted Wranglers that hugged his backside and thighs like hemp on rope, it was no wonder. But the man seemed oblivious.

  “So what do ya say about the diner? They have the best pie this side of the Mississsippi.”

  She laughed. “Then how can I refuse? That sounds nice, thank you.”

  He slanted a smile at her that only a country boy was capable of giving. Crooked, sweet, full of naughtiness. She’d seen similar looks on the faces of the boys in her class as the holiday break drew near. With Case Dalton, she wasn’t sure what mischief he’d get to. In a big family, anything was possible.

  He made a turn onto a junction and she watched the road signs spread out until only countryside sprawled before them.

  “Now don’t tell the little ones where we’re eating, okay? They clamor for this pie, especially the peach, and if they hear I took you there, they’ll carry me away in my sleep and I’ll wake up next to the cows.” Case grinned.

  With a laugh, she said, “You make them sound so strong.”

  “You have no idea what ranch kids can do, especially in numbers like these.”

  “They sound like so much fun. How many are there total?”

  He shook his head. “Never could count them. They don’t hold still long enough.”

  Teaching had its moments of despair, but for the most part, she loved it and found herself smiling through her days. But with Case, her cheeks were beginning to ache from smiling. Whether it was from the excitement of seeing her old friend again or the new experience, she’d definitely made the right decision in coming to Texas for Christmas.

  “Before I left, the mommas had a heck of a time getting the kids clean and loaded into the vehicles.”

  She arched a brow. “The mommas?”

  His big hand rested in his lap as he steered with the other. The long fingers wrapped loosely around the vinyl-covered wheel and his knuckles sprouted a faint dusting of black hair. He was dark-haired, blue-eyed and more cowboy than she’d ever seen in her life. If Hank was anything like Case, no wonder Charlotte had fallen for him. Unfortunately, Annabelle had missed their wedding.

  He swung his gaze to her, dark blue eyes fringed with thick lashes that she only achieved with two coats of mascara. “That’s what I call all the Dalton women—the mommas.”

  “And the guys are the daddies?”

  “No, my cousins.” He chuckled. “The kids are crazed for Santa this year, and they’re convinced they’re going to see snowflakes in Texas, but…” He gave a mournful shake of his head.

  “Maybe I can sit them all down and we’ll cut out paper snowflakes and hang around the house.”

  “Oh, they’d love that, especially the older ones. You must have loads of tricks to keep excited kids in line around this time of year.”

  She nodded. “I’ve learned a few things over the past few years. Now you’re the Daltons’ cousin on their father’s side?”

  “Yup. Oh crap, missed my turn. Hold on.” He whipped the truck in a wide arc, doing a U-turn in the middle of the quiet road. When they got straightened out, she let out a bark of laughter.

  He looked to her, stare riveting her to the seat. Full lips quirked at one corner. “Scare ya, did I?”

  “Just surprised me. If you do that on icy roads, you end up in the ditch, or worse.”

  He arched a brow at her. “Wanna go again?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Hold on.”

  He yanked the wheel to the side and the world revolved past the windshield and her vision. She gripped the edge of the seat and giggled until her stomach hurt.

  He drew the truck to a halt
and stared at her. She swiped at the corners of her eyes and returned his smile. “Do you always drive like a maniac?”

  “Darlin’, you ain’t seen nothin’ till I take you back-roadin’,” he drawled, sending shivers up and down her spine.

  The idea of going “back-roadin’” with Case was as far from stringing popcorn and singing Christmas carols as she could get, but she had to admit it sounded way more fun.

  He was looking at her, eyes warm. “You up for it?”

  She nodded. “As long as we don’t do that after we eat pie.”

  * * * * *

  The temps in Texas might be a lot lower, but that didn’t mean Case didn’t sweat. His shirt clung to his skin and rivulets of perspiration snaked out from under his hat.

  He didn’t exactly have pigpen duty—not the way he saw it. But he was still in the pen, reinforcing support beams and fixing up the place for the sows to cuddle down for the winter.

  Tucking the hammer into the belt slung around his hips, he glanced up at a flash of movement. Hank Jr. bolted by as fast as his long, little boy legs could go, two cousins hot on his tail.

  “Junior, you keep away from the paddock. I don’t want you out riding in this mud. Your horse is liable to slip and break a leg.” Charlotte’s call went unnoticed, though Hank Jr. wouldn’t disobey. The child was as conscientious about the livestock as his daddy and uncles were. He’d never put a horse at risk.

  Charlotte came into view—along with Annabelle.

  Case’s chest tightened at the sight of the brunette. After they got back to the ranch, he’d settled her in the spare room in the main ranch house. He carried her luggage inside and placed it at the foot of the bed and told her his room was just down the hall if she needed anything.

  Then with a low ache in his groin and a really tight pair of Wranglers, he’d turned away from the bed and the pretty little vision standing next to it chewing her lip. Soon the family had come home from the big school performance, high on Christmas cookies and punch, and they’d swept up Annabelle into their frenzy.

  He tugged his hat lower so it wasn’t so obvious he was staring at her. In skinny jeans with high rubber boots skimming her shins and a thick dark green sweater, she could be any other country girl.