A Cowboy Christmas Miracle (Burnt Boot, Texas Book 4) (20 page)

Betsy dropped the phone on the floor, leaned over, put her head between her knees, and made herself breathe. The whole room had done several spins, and she felt as if she might throw up any minute. She should have known from the beginning that Declan was just a Brennan after all.

And you are only a thousand-dollar bet.

Anger quickly replaced the pain shattering her heart, and she picked up her phone, stiffened her spine, and walked out of the bathroom. There all four of them sat, along with a couple of O’Donnells. It was a good thing she didn’t have a gun, or Tanner would have gotten a hole right below his left ear. Damn him for making a bet like that anyway, and double damn him for not calling it off when she had been the one who walked into the bar.

“Give me a pitcher of beer, Rosalie?”

“Bad news? You are as pale as a ghost.”

“Worse than I wanted to hear tonight,” Betsy said. She blinked back the tears and held on to the anger. “I just need a good full pitcher of beer.”

“Sure you don’t want a shot of Jameson?”

“Hell no! That’s too expensive.”

Rosalie drew the beer and set it in front of her. Betsy paid her for it and the beer she’d had earlier. “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” was playing on the jukebox as she carried it ever so gently to the poker table.

“Hey, Betsy, did you bring us a pitcher?” Tanner asked. “These Brennans won’t share what Honey gave them.”

She caught Declan’s sneaky, little wink and wanted to string him up by the toes to the ceiling fan until all the blood in his body dripped out his nose and ears.

“Well?” Tanner asked.

“Yes, I did bring the person who used to be my favorite cousin a pitcher of beer,” she said coldly.

“Who pissed in your whiskey? You look like you could eat nails,” Eli said.

“You sons of bitches did.” She raised the pitcher and dumped it on Tanner’s and Eli’s heads. “The next time you fools decide to make a bet with a Brennan, you damn sure better call it off if it has anything to do with me.”

Declan’s face went blank as Tanner and Eli jumped up and brushed the wet beer from their heads and shirts. She looked right at him and pointed. “I will deal with you later, and it will not be as pleasant as a beer bath.”

She grabbed her coat on the way out, got into her truck, and drove back to the Double L. Thankful that Lottie was still gone, she went straight to her room, curled up on the bed, and sobbed until there were no more tears. Her heart hurt so bad she thought she’d die from the pain and she sure didn’t want to hear any excuses from Declan. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. So she turned off her phone and found another gallon of tears hiding in her soul. They made their way to her eyes and flowed down her cheeks, wetting the pillow, and they didn’t stop until finally, from exhaustion, she fell into a restless, dream-ridden asleep.

Betsy had never dreaded anything as much as she did walking into the kitchen where Declan and Lottie were already making breakfast that Friday morning. She dressed slowly and started to apply makeup but decided against it. Her eyeballs were bloodshot and eye shadow and mascara wouldn’t do a damn thing to make them look better.

“Good morning,” Lottie said cheerfully.

“Good morning to you,” Betsy muttered without even a sideways glance toward Declan.

“We’re having waffles and sausage for breakfast this morning, and I made a pan of cranberry orange muffins for dessert. I like to dip my muffins in the leftover maple syrup to give them a little extra kick,” Lottie said.

I wouldn’t mind having a saucer full of Jameson to dip mine in for a little extra kick this morning
, Betsy thought.

“What are we doing today?” Betsy asked.

“Declan is going to walk the fence line and fix whatever needs fixin’. You are taking me into Gainesville in that pink truck of yours so I can do some shoppin’. After all, I’m flying out of here on Christmas Eve. I’ve already sent a lot of my stuff down to my sister’s place in Florida. I need some clothes to wear in a warm climate, and believe me, I’m going to be glad to get away from this cold snow and hard winters. Take them waffles out of the iron and put another batch in. Declan is going to need all the warmth he can get this morning out there in the cold weather.”

That familiar antsy feeling that Betsy got when someone was staring at her made her look up, and Declan’s blue eyes bored into hers as if he was trying to explain, to tell her something. But that was just a player’s charm and she’d never trust him or any Brennan again. If she didn’t get the Double L, she might just go back to Wild Horse and mount the biggest feud the century had ever seen.

Tanner and Eli?
the voice in her head asked.

They are kin, so I can’t kill them, but they’ll be sorry the rest of their lives for not calling that bet off when I walked into the bar
.

“We need to talk,” Declan whispered.

She shook her head. “Not today, cowboy.”

The way his jaw worked and his mouth clamped shut in a firm line said that he didn’t like her answer. Right then, she didn’t care what he liked. The only thing she wanted to know was if the whole thing between them was a seduction or if any of it was real, and that question didn’t have to be answered until she was over her mad spell.

Immediately after Lottie said grace, she picked up the platter of waffles, put two on her plate, and said, “Now let’s eat. Christmas is two weeks from this day, and we’ve got a lot to do. My plane ticket is bought and my sister is ready for me to get there. Did I tell you that I’m buying a little house right on the beach next to hers? Cute little place with two bedrooms but not quite as big as this one. Got a deck that overlooks the ocean, and it’s painted pink.”

“Lottie, am I going to lose points today by shopping rather than ranchin’?” Betsy took one waffle and one sausage from the platter. Swallowing would be a problem, but there was no way she’d let Declan know that she was hurting, and he’d never see her cry a single tear. She was a Gallagher and they produced strong women.

“No, you won’t, and Declan won’t gain any extra points by fixing the fence. Both need doing and I really don’t care who does which. I figured you might be a better judge of what kind of clothes I should buy than Declan. But if he wants to shop with me, then you can stay behind and fix fence,” Lottie said. “Me and Leland, we always stuck to the old goose-and-gander law. I wasn’t too delicate to go outside and work, and he wasn’t too masculine to help me clean house on Saturday or help with the dinner dishes.”

Thank God for Lottie’s constant prattle—I never thought for a single second I’d live to see the day I’d be grateful for that.

“I’ll gladly do the fencing. I’m not much good at shopping.” Declan pushed back his chair. “I’ll refill coffee cups while I’m doing mine.”

“Thank you, Declan,” Lottie said.

He took care of Lottie’s cup first, then laid his hand on Betsy’s shoulder as he reached over her to pour. Her body responded with a shiver up her backbone, jitters in her stomach, and a picture of him sleeping next to her in that big hotel bed. She was mad at him—she should not have a desire to fall into bed with him.

He squeezed ever so gently when he backed away and filled his own cup to the brim. It was cold outside and still spitting snow, so she didn’t blame him one bit for putting off going out there for the day to walk a fence line.

“Come on back to the house at noon, Declan,” Lottie was saying when she started paying attention again. “There’s ham and cheese in the fridge and potato salad and chocolate pie for dessert. And we promise to bring you some take-out food for supper.”

“I’m going to have a burger at the bar tonight,” he said. “Quaid and I are meeting there for a visit.”

“Then that settles that. You going out tonight too?” Lottie looked over at Betsy.

A slight shrug was the answer.

“Yes? No?” Lottie asked.

“I have no idea. It depends on when we get back from the shopping trip,” she answered. “Hey, while I’m thinking about it, Lottie, I’m working on something for the church. It’s a surprise, so I can’t give you details, but would you consider donating your Christmas collection of figurines?”

“I wondered if you’d ever ask me about those. Verdie let the cat out of the bag about you taking up donations, and I wanted to give them to a good cause. That’s why I put the box in my bedroom when y’all brought the stuff from the bunkhouse. I don’t think I could hardly bear to look at them this year and then leave them behind. It’s a fancy little nativity scene that would look real good on the altar at the church. My Leland gave me a piece every year for Christmas, and there’re more’n fifty of them in the collection. Yes, you can have them, long as you promise me they’ll stay in our church. Shame what y’all did to each other’s school buildings, burning down all the props and such for the church plays. I swear, this feud has got to end.”

“She started it,” Declan said.

“I didn’t do jack”—she bit back the cuss word—“a thing. My family did, but I didn’t. Just like your family did, but you said you didn’t; however, who knows? You Brennans, for all your pious backgrounds, do lie and cheat to get your way or a thousand dollars, don’t you?”

“Hey now, this is neutral as the church or the store. No fightin’ here, kids,” Lottie said. “I reckon we’ve lollygagged over breakfast long enough. Time to get about our day’s work.”

“I’ll get dressed to go to town and be out in ten minutes,” Betsy said.

Declan finished his coffee with a gulp and said, “And I’m going to the tack room for supplies.”

“I’ll have this kitchen in shape by the time you get back out here.” Lottie grinned.

* * *

“Okay, girl, spill the beans right now,” Lottie said when they were settled into Betsy’s truck. “I know about the bet and about what went on at the bar last night and that you have a right to be mad at him. But I want to know the whole story.”

“How did you find out?”

“Rosalie called Polly soon as the bar closed up. That Polly and Gladys can stay up until midnight and sleep all the way to eight o’clock. Not me. I’m yawning at nine o’clock and can’t sleep a wink past four thirty. Five o’clock is sleeping in to me. So anyway, Rosalie called Polly, and Polly got up to go to the bathroom at four thirty, so she called me to see if I knew anything more about it. You should know that you or Declan can’t burp without everyone in Burnt Boot talkin’ about what y’all had for dinner. Y’all and Honey and that preacher are the talk right now,” Lottie answered.

“You want to hear hanky-panky and all?” Betsy asked.

“You think me and Leland didn’t enjoy a little of that when we were young? Just because I’m old and wrinkled now don’t mean that we didn’t like going to bed in the middle of the day for a little fun or that I didn’t enjoy it. So talk to me.”

Betsy bit her lower lip. “Does what I’m going to say put Declan or me in first position?”

“What you do with your personal life don’t have a lot to do with whether you can run a ranch, so no, it’s not going to have much to do with my decision about who gets to buy the Double L. But you are about to explode, girl, and if you don’t talk, the top of your head is going to blow your brains all over this pretty truck. You know what? I might buy a pink golf cart when I get to Florida. They tell me that’s what the old toots ride around in down there. You goin’ to talk, or am I goin’ to have to slap the fizzles right out of you to get you started?”

“You already know most of it. Tanner and Declan got into it about their womanizing ways during a poker game and made a bet. Whoever lost had to make the next woman who came into the bar fall in love with him by Christmas. Declan lost, and I was the woman,” Betsy said.

“And what happened? Did he ask you out?”

“No, he went to the river, and I showed up on that same night because I needed to think about Christmas. Angela was crying because she wants her new baby boy, Christian, to be baby Jesus in the church program, and I talked to Rosalie and, well, I just wound up on the banks of the river,” she said.

“And you got to talking about Christmas and came up with the idea to gather up stuff so Angela wouldn’t be disappointed, right?”

Betsy inhaled deeply. “A week from Sunday, Kyle is going to announce it in church, and there will be a program on the Wednesday night before Christmas. You’ll still be here, right?”

Lottie’s gray bun bounced up and down as she nodded emphatically. “What a wonderful thing you kids have done for the church. I don’t fly out until Thursday, and your last job is going to be taking me to the Dallas airport. I have already fixed things so my lawyer can take care of the money deal and put it in my new Florida account.”

Betsy thought she’d dodged a bullet by talking about Christmas, but she was dead wrong. Lottie’s eyebrows knit together in a solid line and she said, “Now about this hanky-panky? Was that all there was to it, or did you fall in love with Declan? Last time that happened, they took the man out and hung him from what I hear about history. I can’t just remember if it was a Gallagher or a Brennan that got hung though.”

“I don’t know,” Betsy said.

“Hard to trust your heart to someone who’s used you as a bet and who’s a Brennan, right?” Lottie asked. “Before you answer, maybe you ought to know that he paid Tanner the thousand dollars and called off the bet a few days ago.”

Betsy frowned. “He did what?”

“Yep, Polly got that news last night when Tanner was leaving in a huff. Said he didn’t know why you were in such a huff because he’d won the bet. He was bragging that Declan knew he couldn’t ever get you to go out with him so he just paid up even before Christmas so he could go chasin’ some other skirt that had caught his eye. You hear of him goin’ after another woman? I haven’t,” Lottie said.

Betsy shook her head. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not still mad.”

“You got a right to be mad for a time. Take as long as you need to get over it, but don’t let the anger ruin your life. Now let’s go to that little dress shop down there by the Big Lots store. I like pants with elastic in the waist and shirts that button up. Old woman like me has trouble with them pullover things and gettin’ my britches down when it’s time to go to the bathroom if I have to unzip and unbutton them.”

* * *

Declan threw a roll of barbed wire in the back of the old truck along with stretchers, an extra pair of gloves, and half a dozen metal fence posts in case he had to replace one of the wooden ones. Then he drove about five hundred yards through the snow to a place where he could park, got out, and started walking back, checking posts and barbed wire all the way. When that much stood the test, he went back to the truck and had gotten inside when he saw his father pull off the side of the road and stop.

They met at the fence line, Russell on one side, Declan on the other—clones of each other with twenty-five years and a few pounds extra on Russell.

“Heard there was a little dustup at the bar last night. That true that you and Tanner had a bet?”

Declan nodded. “It’s true but I lost and paid him several days ago.”

“Never did ask Betsy out?”

“It’s complicated,” he answered.

“She’s a Gallagher. You know you can’t trust them. Tanner probably had a bet with her that she couldn’t get you to fall for her. I bet he made a thousand dollars off her too and that’s what made her mad enough to dump beer on his head. Your grandmother is elated that there’s trouble in the Gallagher camp. She says for you to drop whatever you’re doing and come home to River Bend.”

Declan removed his black cowboy hat and cocked his head to one side. “And what do you say, Dad?”

Russell’s gloved hand crossed the fence and came to rest on Declan’s shoulder. “The same thing that I said when you left. Follow your heart. I wish I’d done that all those years. You in love with Betsy?”

“I could be,” Declan said. “But a fat lot of good that will do me now. You really think that Tanner was playing a double game?”

“I wouldn’t put nothing past him. Whatever you decide, you keep your guard up with him. So I reckon you are stayin’ put for a while longer even though you have to walk the fence line in the middle of snow?” Russell removed his hand.

“I’m not letting her win and get the ranch. I want it too bad, and you always said a fence needed to be checked three times a year,” Declan told him.

Russell gave a brief nod. “That’s right. Winter, summer, and once more, especially if it’s a wet spring. You did listen to a few things, Son. Holler at me if you need anything other than walking a fencerow in three inches of cold snow. That I’m not willin’ for.”

“Thanks, Dad, for understanding,” Declan said.

“Glad we had such a good talk.” Russell waved as he walked back to his truck.

* * *

Betsy walked into the bar that evening and went straight to the jukebox and put enough coins in the slot to play six songs. Then she poked the numbers in to play Terri Clark’s “I Just Wanna Be Mad.” While the first song played, she found a bar stool and pointed at the Jameson.