“He’s the one who was out of his league. Not you. If a man’s ego can’t handle a strong woman, he’s either an idiot or a dumbass—maybe both. A decent man wouldn’t put anyone in that situation, and sure as hell not a woman.”
“Thank you.” She leans back into me, her shoulders resting against my chest. Then quietly, “He broke my heart and my faith in human decency.”
That just about guts me. I hold her closer, wishing I could take every bad thing out of this world just for her.
“What about you?” She asks after a while. “What’s your story. I hear you were some kind of big shot with a bunch of fancy rodeo buckles.”
“You did, did you?” I chuckle low against her temple, nudging Duke toward a clearing ahead. “All true about the buckles but wouldn’t go so far as a big shot.”
“Yeah? Why’d you quit?”
“Didn’t quit. Retired.” I correct her. “Just plain tired with all of it. Chasing the circuit, wearing out my body, and realizing most people didn’t give a damn about me.”
“You had groupies.” Her laugh warms my heart.
“A few.” Every damn rodeo. Every damn town. “Couldn’t get away fast enough. All I wanted was quiet. A place where nobody knew my name. Frosty Pines gave me that.”
She turns her face slightly; her cheek brushes my jaw. “And you still agreed to host the Holiday Hoedown.”
“Guess peace and quiet’s overrated. And you’re hard to say no to.” I tighten my arms around her just enough to make her laugh again—a sound I’ll take over applause any day.
“Ooh, there’s a good one.” She straightens, pointing to a tall spruce dusted with snow. “Think we can haul it back.”
“Positive.” I swing down and offer her a hand. “C’mon. I’ll cut it. You can supervise.”
She takes my hand and swings her leg over the saddle. My palms glide up her thighs to her hips, and she steadies herself with hands on my shoulders. She slides easily into my arms, our bodies aligning like we’re made for each other. I knew we were the first night I saw her slinging whiskey at the bar.
She looks up at me and loops her arms around my neck; eyes bright, lips parted. I almost kiss her, but once we start, I won’t want to stop. It’s late and too damn cold to get stranded in the dark.
“Let’s get that beauty home before dark.” I say, before my common sense goes on the fritz.
“Good thinking.”
I hand her the reins. She eyes them warily. “He won’t go anywhere, but he likes company.”
She nods, fingers wrapping around the leather. I grab the hatchet from my saddlebag and make quick work of felling the tree. Duke snorts and stamps a foot as the tree hits the snow, sending a poof of powder in the air.
“Easy, boy.” Coco cautiously pats his shoulder. “Just a few more minutes.”
I grab the base of the tree and drag it toward them, a grin spreading across my face. That’s my girl—brave, finding her footing again. And damn she’s got me thinkin’ about trading in the peace and quiet I craved, for someone to share it with.
10
COCO
By the timewe make it back to the barn, the sky’s turned indigo. No more daylight, but plenty of time left to set up the tree. Beau props the spruce in the corner, straightening it in a stand. I kneel beside a battered carboard box labeledornamentsand open the flaps. Inside is a mountain of loose silver tinsel. No hooks, no balls, no ribbons, just thousands of glittering strands.
“It’s just tinsel,” I call over my shoulder, plunging my hands into the pile. I grab a fistful and drop it back into the box. Tinsel clings to my sweater. The more I shake and pick at it the more it scatters—in my hair, the floor—everywhere.
“New event, new tradition.” Amusement roughens Beau’s voice. “Barn’s simple enough. We’ll make it a simple tree.”
“Just tinsel?” I say, brushing strands from my face.
“Why not?”
I scoop up the box, and a stream of tinsel spills across the floor like miniature icicles. I kick at them, which only causes more to spill from the box. By the time I reach the tree, the floor looks like a shattered disco ball.
“Or we could go with decorating the floor instead.” He grins. “Scatter it with the stuff. Make it festive.”
