Darn Good Cowboy Christmas (13 page)

“Go on out and circle the barn and come back in the front door,” he whispered as he brushed a kiss across her lips. “Unless you want us to go out there together and start bragging about what we did.”

She slipped her hand from his and eased out the door, blowing him a kiss on the way. “Thank you,” she mouthed. But she missed that special time afterward, like the night before when they'd cuddled before she fell asleep.

Fall in Texas can be colder than a brass monkey on the North Pole or hot enough to go swimming in the lake, sometimes both within a three-day span. It's that time of year when folks turn on the heat in the morning but by midafternoon they've switched it to air-conditioning.

The afternoon that Liz called in the troops to help put up yard decorations was one of the hot days and felt nothing like Christmas. The day before had hovered down around forty degrees, but a southerly wind picked up and warmed Ringgold up to eighty degrees and she'd turned on the air-conditioning when she got home that afternoon. There was cold beer in the refrigerator. She made a pitcher of iced tea, a pot of coffee, and arranged store-bought chocolate chip cookies on a plate. And then she set a small CD player on the porch with a Christmas CD in it, put it on repeat so that the songs would keep coming. She turned it up as high as it would go and waited for the army to come help her do battle with her decorations.

They all arrived at the same time: Gemma, Raylen, Dewar, Jasmine, and Ace. The three guys grabbed a cold beer and went right to the barn while the ladies had a glass of tea, cookies, and half an hour of gossip.

“Reckon they got it figured out?” Gemma asked.

“What?”

“Men folks are different than us girls. They have to scratch their heads and measure and talk something to death before they get it done, right, Jasmine?” Gemma said.

“You got it. Then after they've done cussed and discussed, they do what we would have done to start with. They ought to be gettin' the stuff down out of the loft about now so we'll go on out and start loading lights,” Jasmine said.

Liz laughed. “It's universal. You ought to be in the carnie business.”

The guys were still measuring the opening when they finally got to the barn.

“Guess we didn't give them long enough,” Gemma said. “Let's get the lights loaded on Liz's truck while they play like engineers.”

Two hours later they'd figured it out enough that everyone was out of the loft, and all the pieces were unloaded up against the fence on the south side of the property. Now it was time for more head scratching and measuring.

“You're the boss lady. You tell us where to put it,” Ace said.

“How many are there in all?” Liz asked.

“Thirty-six,” Raylen said.

“Then we'll divide them. Eighteen on each side.”

“By theme, color, or what?” Dewar asked.

“Let's lay them all out on the ground and then decide where to put them,” Ace suggested.

Liz swiped her hand across her forehead, smearing dirt and sweat from one side to the other. “That would take until next Christmas.”

She wore cutoff jeans and a faded T-shirt with Tinker Bell on the front; her hair was parted down the middle and pulled up into dog ears that bounced when she turned from one side to the other. Raylen thought she was cute as a new baby kitten and wished he could kiss her right then and there. But that would bring the decorating to a damn halt because when their lips met, it never was long until they were shedding clothes.

“How do they stand up when a strong wind hits?” Gemma asked.

Raylen flipped a snowman around and pointed to the bottom. “See that board with the holes in it? Stakes go through the holes and then two feet into the ground. Plus there's a prop, kind of like the back side of an easel, that keeps them steady. We've got hundreds of stakes in the back of the truck yet. Haskell had them all cut and in two boxes. Looks like he did that this year because the cuts are fresh.”

Liz had thought she'd know exactly where to put each one. It was supposed to come to her like divine intervention. The grouping of snowmen would go there and the nativity scene there, but it didn't work that way. She was totally bewildered.

“Help!” she said.

Jasmine pushed her brown hair behind her ears. “You really want a Griswold effect?”

Liz nodded.

“Okay, then take every other one and put it on the other side of the lane. Don't pay a bit of attention to themes or content. Just arrange them haphazardly like you said.”

“Okay. That's the way we'll do it. But remember to fix them so one isn't back behind another so they are all as visible as possible from the road and from the lane,” Liz said.

Ace picked up Betty Boop standing in front of a Christmas tree and carried it to the other side of the lane. Raylen grabbed a four-by-eight piece of plywood with a painting of three snowmen and a yellow puppy playing at their base.

“That must've been the year he got Hooter,” Liz said.

“And that's this year, right?” Jasmine pointed to the cactus with the belly dancer sitting in the fork.

“You got it.” Liz grinned.

Dewar got a firm grip on Santa's sleigh. “I'll come back and get the reindeer that hooks up to this soon as I haul this little fat man to the other side of the lane.”

“Y'all take the ones that are left behind and arrange them where you want us to set them up. While we do that you can arrange on this side and then you can begin to string the lights while we set up that side,” Raylen said.

“Mr. Organization,” Gemma said.

“Miz Smart Mouth,” Dewar taunted.

“Oh, hush! You'd agree with him just because it's guys against gals,” she told him.

Jasmine touched Liz on the shoulder. “They argue like that all the time. It wasn't easy for me to get used to since I'm an only child. Pearl and I were friends and we argued some but not a lot. These O'Donnells fight like…”

“Irishmen.” Gemma giggled. “It's fun. You ought to try it.”

“I know exactly what you are talking about.” Liz remembered the fights she had with Blaze. He hated to be wrong almost as much as she did, and their arguments could get heated. He was Irish too. Maybe that was the explanation. Their worst argument had been when he couldn't talk her out of leaving the carnival and then he stayed in his trailer and refused to come out to wave good-bye to her.

“Okay, then, let's put Mr. and Mrs. Claus with their welcome sign way back at the house. That way, when the folks get to the end, the old couple will be saying, ‘come right on in and have a cup of hot chocolate,' and then…” Gemma started.

Liz was shaking her head emphatically. “No! I want them right here at the very front of the property to welcome everyone to the whole light show. Not way back there where you can't even see them. Put them right here in the corner.”

“I disagree,” Jasmine said. “I think they should go in the other corner since most people are right-handed, and that's where they'll look first.”

Liz moved to the corner beside the cattle guard and crossed her arms over her chest. “I want it right here.”

Jasmine and Gemma both cracked up.

“What is so damn funny?” Liz asked.

“You argued with us. I'm proud of you, girl. You might make an O'Donnell yet!” Gemma said.

“You two are…”

“Pigs from hell?” Jasmine asked. “Ever see
Steel
Magnolias
? I love that line.”

“Yes, I did and love it. And that's exactly what you are,” Liz said. “I've argued with an expert and you two barely qualify as amateurs.”

“You hear that, Raylen? She says she can out-argue us,” Gemma said.

“When hell freezes over,” he shot across the lane.

“Well, get ready for icicles on Lucifer's boogers!” Liz smarted off.

Raylen stopped and locked eyes with her. “I don't think so, darlin'.”

“I don't give a rat's ass what you think.”

Gemma cackled. “She's pretty good, Raylen. You've met your match on the fiddle and in a fight, too.”

He grinned and carried a decorated Christmas tree to the other side. His arm brushed against Liz's as they passed each other. He caught her eye and winked. All the arguing left her in an instant and desire flooded her body. She wanted to send her friends home and drag Raylen behind those snowmen for a session of wild, passionate sex. That session against the wall in the tack room the day before had sent her mind into a whirlwind. Now every place she saw became a place for seducing Raylen.

She chose a spot for the next lawn ornament, stuck a twig in the soft earth to mark it, and helped Jasmine and Gemma place it. But her thoughts stayed on the tingling place on her arm where Raylen had touched her. Did he think she was easy? Would he get tired of her? Or worse yet, did he have an ulterior motive like Dewar said in the café? Just how badly did he want her twenty acres?

“You are frowning,” Jasmine said. “This is supposed to be fun, not a chore.”

“It is.” Liz forced a smile. “I was wondering if we have enough to cover all the land as close as we're positioning them.”

“You were thinking about Raylen,” Jasmine whispered. “I saw the way you looked at him and that wink he gave you. Did he make you mad?”

“No, shhh,” Liz said.

“Hey, I'm not tellin' anybody,” Jasmine said.

“It's just that it's…”

Jasmine zipped her mouth shut and then laughed out loud.

“What's so funny over there?” Gemma asked.

“This place is going to make Griswold's look puny,” Jasmine said quickly.

When they finished with the placement on that side, the guys had hauled the other half to the north side of the lane and the ladies changed places with them. That side went faster and they started stringing lights before the guys finished staking and propping the south side of the lane's decorations.

“I'm glad Uncle Haskell marked the boxes for me.” Liz pulled a box with “Mr. and Mrs. Claus lights” written in big bold letters on the top from the back of her truck.

“Are they all like that?” Jasmine asked.

“Yes, they are,” Liz answered. “We'll just have to dig through the boxes. Hey, you know what we should do? Put each box by the cutout where it goes rather than digging through them all.”

“You sound just like Raylen. Y'all might be kin to each other as organized as you are. Your Uncle Haskell is probably his great-great-seventeen-times-back-cousin or something,” Gemma said.

“God, I hope not,” Liz said quickly and then looked up to see if she'd really said the words aloud.

“Why? Don't you want to be kin to the O'Donnells?” Gemma asked.

“No, ma'am. Y'all argue too much for me,” Liz joked.

“It's Dewar, isn't it? I knew it from the first. You've got a crush on Dewar,” Gemma whispered.

“Hell, no!” Liz said.

“Well, crap!” Gemma sighed. “I did want you to fall for him. We've got to get him married, and then Raylen.” Gemma crossed herself and went on, “God forbid, but then Colleen. I'm not sure there's a man on the earth I can bribe into takin' her off our hands.”

“Why?” Liz asked.

Gemma picked up a box of lights and carried them over to Betty Boop. “Because she's so outspoken and pessimistic.”

“Not why about Colleen. Why do you have to worry about your brothers and sisters falling in love?” Liz asked.

Jasmine stacked one box on the top of the other and carried them across the lane. “Because according to Cash, they have to get married in the order of their birth.”

“I thought that was a joke,” Liz said.

“I heard y'all,” Dewar raised his voice. “And you might as well give it up, Gemma. I'm not being railroaded to the altar.”

“We could drug him and pay the girl,” Jasmine whispered.

“What was that?” Dewar asked.

“I heard her,” Ace said. “She said she was going to help Gemma drug you and pay some old gal to marry you.”

“Better bring your lunch because it'll be an all-day job,” Dewar said.

Jasmine pointed a long, slim finger at him. “Darlin', I could put something in your chicken fried steak and you'd wake up next to some old hussy wearing a wedding band. We would make her sign a prenup so she couldn't sue you for the farm in the divorce. We'd do that much for you. You'd better think about that when Gemma starts lookin' at wedding books. Us girls got to stick together.”

Raylen caught Liz's eye and the look that passed between them sizzled. He made love to her with his eyes and she shivered. She could imagine his hands on her body as he slowly went from her shoes to her lips and lingered there.

“I'd say you'd better be out girl huntin', or else hire you a taster like they did in the old days every time you go anywhere near these witchy women. I think they're acting like they are jokin', but they are all dead serious,” Ace said.

Jasmine narrowed her eyes at him. “You'd better be careful. I can have you at the altar in a heartbeat. I know lots of women who'd take your sorry old hide any way they could get it. And if you aren't nice to me I'll forget to have them sign the prenup.”

“Dammit! Look what you got me into, Dewar. I was mindin' my own business drivin' stakes and now I got to watch my back.” He pointed at a barbed wire tat around his upper left arm. “You see this? Me and Rye got them to protect us against witchy women. Austin got over or under Rye's barbed wire, but ain't no woman never goin' to get me to drop down on one knee. It ain't happenin', Jasmine darlin'. Not even you got that much power.”

“Power ain't got nothing to do with drugs,” Jasmine told him. “But you'd best take me on home. I've got to make peach cobblers before I go to bed tonight, and it's startin' to get dark, and you've got chores to do. Your hired help was fussin' yesterday about you getting' lazy.”

“They were not! They know I work harder than any of them out there on that ranch,” he protested.

Jasmine pointed her forefinger at him and pretended to shoot him. “Gotcha! But seriously I do need to get back to the café.”

“Us too,” Dewar said to Gemma.

“Yep, I got to make a run to the beauty supply over in Wichita Falls before they close at eight. Got two dye jobs and a perm in the morning,” Gemma said. “Want to go with me, Liz?”