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Steeling himself, he waited for her to speak. But Jess didn’t say a word.
As they walked, he felt something soft and cool brush the side of his hand. Slender fingers stole between his, seeking and clasping, nestling into his palm.
Cooper’s heart contracted. His hand tightened around hers. No words were needed.
As they crossed the muddy distance to the vehicles, snowflakes began drifting down, like a lacy white curtain against the twilight sky.
* * *
Branding Iron’s first annual Christmas parade took place as scheduled, at ten in the morning, on the twentieth of December, the last Saturday before Christmas.
Not everything went well. The band teacher was down with the flu, so the Branding Iron High School band, with no one to lead them, sounded woefully out of tune. And the Cottonwood Springs band arrived so late that they had to run down the street to catch up with the rest of the parade. The chilly wind tore streamers of crepe paper off the hastily constructed floats, and Tex Morgan, the TV star who’d grown up in Branding Iron, was a no-show. Sam, Grace, and Maggie led the parade without him, waving and tossing candy from a red convertible.
But never mind all that. Everyone agreed that the Santa Claus sleigh was magnificent.
From the prancing horses with their jingling harness bells, to the beautifully finished sleigh, gliding along the snow-packed street, it was perfection—as was Santa Claus himself.
Jess had joined Ruth on the sidewalk to watch the parade. Ruth had brought her two little girls. They were jumping up and down, laughing and waving.
“That Santa is great. But who on earth is he?” Jess asked.
Ruth grinned. With her hair fluttering in the wind and her cheeks rosy with cold, she looked like the pretty, lively woman she’d been before she married Ed McCoy. “Look at him. Can’t you tell? Look at those eyes. Listen to that laugh.”
Jess shaded her eyes from the bright sun. “Oh, my goodness! It’s Abner! He’s perfect!”
“He agreed to do it early on,” Ruth said. “But he and Sam wanted to keep it a secret. They wanted him to be the real Santa for the children. And look at him. He’s about as real as Santa can be.”
Jess didn’t need to ask how her friend knew about Abner. The kindly man had offered Ruth, Skip, and the little girls a place to stay until she could collect the insurance on the house, sell the land, and find another home to buy. To repay him, Ruth had scrubbed his house from top to bottom and she was spoiling him with the delicious meals she cooked.
Abner was playing Santa as if he’d done it all his life, his laughter booming as he flung small bags of candy onto the sidewalk for the children, making sure no child was missed.
“But who’s that driving the team?” Jess studied the rangy figure dressed in jeans and a sheepskin coat, his weathered Stetson worn low to shadow his face. Oblivious to the cheering crowds, he was controlling the team with the skill of a man who understood horses.
“I can’t recall ever seeing him before,” Jess said. “Do you know him, Ruth?”
Ruth’s expression had changed, as if a shadow had fallen across her pretty face. “Yes,” she said. “I know him.”
“I know him, too!” Trevor, trailed by Skip, had joined the two women. “His name’s Judd Rankin. He’s renting our pasture for his cows. He didn’t really want to do this—he doesn’t like being around a lot of people. But Sam talked him into it—they were friends in school. Sam wanted to make sure the horses wouldn’t spook, and Mr. Rankin was the only one he trusted to handle them. He’s cool—a real cowboy.” Trevor turned to his friend. “Come back to the field after the parade. He’ll be helping my dad load the horses. You’ll get to meet him.”
Ruth turned to her son, almost too abruptly. “I’m sorry, Skip, but we need to leave. Your sisters are getting cranky, and I have to start dinner.”
“Aw, Mom . . .” Skip protested. “Can’t I stay? I can always hitch a ride home.”
“Not this time. I said you could go to the Christmas ball tonight. That’s enough.” Ruth hiked her purse strap onto her shoulder and took each little girl by a hand. “Come on, let’s go, while we can get out ahead of the traffic.”
Jess watched Ruth walk away with her children, headed for the side street where she’d left her car. It struck Jess as odd that she would leave so suddenly, especially when her girls hadn’t seemed cranky at all.
But never mind, Jess told herself. She’d had enough drama in the past week. She didn’t need to borrow any more trouble. Instead, she would enjoy the day and look forward to tonight.
Especially tonight.
* * *
Branding Iron’s second annual Cowboy Christmas Ball was an even bigger success than the previous year’s. Branding Iron’s citizens turned out in their western finery to enjoy homemade food, entertainment for the kids, and dancing to country music. Abner’s Santa was as good as the real one, people said, although he was looking tired by the evening’s end. There was also talk of maybe, next year, putting aside enough money to hire a real live band.
Not everyone in Branding Iron had come to the ball. In a modest ranch house south of town, Cooper and Jess lounged on the sofa in front of a crackling fire. In the corner, the Christmas tree, now with a growing stack of presents underneath, glowed softly in the darkened room.
Taking advantage of the rare time alone, they’d feasted on pizza from Buckaroo’s, wrapped a few gifts, and settled back to watch a Batman video. About halfway through the movie, he’d leaned over and kissed her, and the rest of the movie was forgotten.
