Her Mistletoe Cowboy (9 page)

“You can make
coffee in here?” Ivy asked.

Rhett didn’t look at her as he answered. “Sure can.”

He closed the barn doors to keep out the cold and to hide his thoughts about what he’d like to do with Ivy to increase his heart rate. An activity that involved a bed of clean straw and unwrapping her from her layers of winter clothes as if she were a Christmas present. “I told you last night cowboys have hidden talents.”

He led the way through the streams of light pouring in from missing clapboards to a section of the barn where bales of hay were neatly stacked and the smell of coffee wafted. On two bales he’d placed a plank and on the plank rested mugs, a coffee pot and an empty container that had contained yesterday’s chocolate snowballs. He flicked a wall switch and an overhead light illuminated the cozy area.

“Take a seat.” He hefted a bale of hay from off the stack and set it on the floorboards.

She sat on the bale and set her gloves on the floor. He blanked out the pile of clean straw that lay directly behind her.

She accepted her steaming mug of coffee with a smile. “I think you’ll be hammering in nails in until next winter the walls have so many holes.”

He placed a hay bale beside her and sat too, his mug in his hand. “You might be right but in this weather being in here beats fixing fences in sub-zero temperatures.”

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

She waved a hand around. “For this … for choosing to repair and not to demolish my great-grandparent’s barn.”

He took a sip of coffee to break the intensity of her gaze. He could look into her hazel eyes for a lifetime and never tire of seeing the colors change. When she grew serious her irises turned a golden brown.

“You’re welcome. The modern tin barns aren’t quite the same and your great-grandparents built this one so well. In all the years, the foundations and structure haven’t shifted. I can’t say the same for Zane Nash’s barn at Hollyhock Creek Ranch. The windstorm that brought my tree down that Kendall wants for the bonfire destroyed his old barn.” He dipped his head toward a pile of wood that lined the opposite wall. “But he’s been kind enough to give me the barn lumber so I can match it to the original wood.”

Ivy barely glanced at the pile of lumber. “Rhett … about the bonfire … are you fine with the idea? Payton and Kendall are on a mission to make sure it happens.”

“Don’t I know it? Peta has joined the campaign and has already called to lock in a date.”

“I feel bad for forcing you into this. If you really don’t want to hold a bonfire, I’ll talk to them.”

“It’s fine.” He fought to keep his voice casual. She couldn’t know how much her willingness to go to bat for him pushed aside his loneliness. Just like how last night he’d enjoyed her quick wit and laughter so much so that even in the short drive from her house to his cabin, he missed having her by his side. “Apart from the fact I’d never send you to fight my battles, it’s a good idea. I’ve been so focused on getting this place in order I haven’t been at all hospitable.”

“So you really are okay with it?”

“Yep.”

Ivy’s pursed lips indicated she still didn’t believe him.

“It really is fine,” he continued. “Kendall needs something to look forward to. I’ll hold a bonfire so she can have some fun and have a break from looking after Dad.”

Ivy’s eyes searched his. “You don’t talk about your father? Is he ill?”

“Not according to his doctor.” Even to his own ears, Rhett heard the bitterness underscore his words. “There isn’t physically anything wrong with him.”

“Perhaps he’s missing your mother?”

“I wish that was the case. But he doesn’t talk about her. He doesn’t have a photo of her anywhere in the house.” Rhett stared into his coffee that was as black as his thoughts. “He’s always been a difficult man, and it has been his way or no way. Peta has a second-hand girl’s name because he wanted a boy. And even Kendall has a recycled boy’s name, despite me being born first.”

“He does sound like a strong character.”

“You got that right. And my mother was a saint. I have no idea how they stayed together.”

Ivy offered him the open shortbread container. “Perhaps she saw a side of him no one else did?”

“Thanks.” Rhett selected a piece of the golden shortbread. “She must have.”

Silence settled around them as they ate. But the guilt within him soured the sweetness of the treat crumbling in his mouth. He glanced at the woman less than an arm’s length away and the emptiness inside urged him to talk. Ivy had lost her family and then her grandparents. She would understand the unyielding grip grief held on him.

He spoke again. “When she died she made me promise not to give up on him.”

“And have you?” Ivy’s grave gaze never left his.

He took a long second to speak. “No. But then I haven’t been son-of-the-year either.”

Ivy set her mug on the floorboards and wriggled to the edge of the hay bale so she was closer to him. Her knee brushed his and he caught the scent of vanilla. “It’s Christmas, why not start now?”

He frowned. “Start now?”

“Yes. Go and see him. Kendall said last night when we walked her to her car you haven’t been around to the Marietta house for a while.”

“I’m busy and even if I wasn’t, all we do is argue and upset Kendall.”

“I’ll come with you. I mightn’t be able to provide the distraction you need for Christmas Day but I can be one now.”

“A distraction, huh?”

“Yep.”

He wrapped his fingers around his coffee mug even as he stared at her full lips. If he didn’t keep it together, in another five seconds she’d find out exactly how much of a distraction she’d been since he’d turned to see her standing in the snow.

“It won’t be pleasant.”

She shrugged. “I’m a big girl. I know how to handle difficult men.”

Rhett set his mug on the barn floor, the action pressing his knee against hers. She didn’t move.

“What about belligerent, argumentative and intimidating men?”

“Yes. I’ve got them covered too.”

He lifted a hand, intending to brush the silken hair away from her chin. The need to kiss her drowned out all calls from his self-reservation to stand down.

Then sadness filled her eyes, coloring them green. “I also have arrogant, egotistical and unfaithful covered too.”

He lowered his arm. The knowledge his suspicions had been correct and someone had hurt her didn’t bring any satisfaction. “Now that’s one difficult man. What was his name?”

“James Hunt. My boss and my biggest mistake.”

“And why you’ve also come here by yourself for Christmas?”

She sighed. “Yes. I broke off our engagement and resigned as soon as I discovered he’d made a move on the new intern at a conference, just like he’d once done with me. Even though it’s not so much him sleeping with Elise I can’t stop thinking about but more … how could I be so foolish not to have seen through him earlier.”

Rhett gave in to the urge to comfort her and gently squeezed her knee.

“Ivy, each and every one of us is human and makes mistakes and poor choices.” He smiled. “I once had long cowboy hair and wore jeans a size too small.”

As he’d hoped a smile lightened her eyes.

“My mom told me before she died it’s not our mistakes that define us but what we learn from them. It’s how we pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and get on with being who we were meant to be that counts.”

“Your mom was a wise woman.”

He swallowed past the wedge in his throat. “Yes. She was.”

Ivy reached out and touched his cheek. Her caress was as light as the brush of an angel’s wings. “Rhett, go and see your dad. Your mom made you give her that promise for a reason. Just have faith even now she is looking out for you.”

Rhett managed to nod. But it was unease and not grief holding him silent. Ivy was so close if he angled his head his mouth would meet hers. Finally he’d be able to taste the sweetness that was Ivy Bishop. But knowing for sure that she was here because her heart had been broken changed everything.

Ivy had suffered enough and he couldn’t abuse the trust she seemed to have in him by pushing their relationship out of friendship territory. The last thing she needed was a whirlwind rebound romance. And the last thing he needed was to be the rebound guy. He wasn’t in the market for a relationship but that didn’t stop feelings for Ivy from forming. It was more important than ever that things remain casual and low-key between them because if they didn’t when the festive season ended he could be the one with the broken heart.

He leaned forward, pressed a brief kiss to her forehead and stood. “I’ll give Kendall a call and see if we can go around tomorrow for dinner.”

She stood too and bent to collect the coffee mugs. “Sounds good. And in the meantime, I’ll dust off my boxing gloves.”

‡

“Y
es. I know,
Milly. It’s official. I’ve lost the plot.”

The pup watched from her kitchen bed as Ivy took the milk carton out of the cupboard where she’d placed it instead of in the refrigerator. She was about to make fudge and had spent the past five minutes working out where the milk carton had gone. But the reason for the milk being in the wrong place wasn’t the reason she’d expected.

She was still waiting for her cathartic meltdown to happen which meant that the reason why the milk ended up in the cupboard had nothing to do with her emotional flood-gates opening.

But it did have everything to do with yesterday’s barn visit. Not only had she found her grandfather’s initials and the discovery had further anchored her to her Christmas home, but she now felt strangely free. It was as though by talking to Rhett about James, she’d exorcised her ex-fiancé from her soul.

Rhett was right. She’d made a poor choice. She’d allowed convenience and familiarity to seduce her into thinking what she felt for James was real. She now knew it wasn’t. There had been no spark, no passion, no deep connection, just a mutual goal of conquering the corporate world. His affair had been a blessing, not the tragedy she’d once believed. She shuddered to think what type of empty life they would have had together. Sure, she still wasn’t whole, she grieved for her beloved grandparents, but whatever parts of her heart James had dislodged, the pieces had now rejoined.

She assembled the other ingredients she needed to make fudge on the bench. But instead of beginning to bake, her gaze strayed toward the kitchen window. Through the falling snow a thin tendril of smoke curled. Rhett’s fire was burning low which meant he was already outside in the barn.

There was a third thing that had happened in the barn and added to her absent-mindedness. Rhett had …. kissed her. Even though his kiss had been one of friendship, his too-brief touch had heated far more than her skin. Ever since he’d helped her with the truck seat belt her hormones had fixated on how his calloused hands would feel sliding beneath her winter layers. She shivered despite the warmth of the kitchen. If the press of his lips on her forehead could weaken her knees she could only imagine what the effect of his mouth would be on hers. And for a split second, she’d been sure she’d been about to find out. He’d stared at her mouth and need had turned his eyes to almost black. But then his jaw had firmed.

She lifted her heavy hair from off her nape as an unfamiliar restlessness gripped her. As tepid as her attraction had been to James, she could no longer deny that her attraction to Rhett burned red hot. And it wasn’t only her feeling the pull between them. The question now was, was she brave enough to take a risk and go off-list to do something about it? Her grandparents had shared a loving and affectionate relationship, and in her blinkered view, she’d thought she’d found a similar connection with James. But never once had she craved his touch like she did Rhett’s.

Milly suddenly barked and dashed to the foyer.

Ivy left the kitchen and dodged the hyperactive puppy to open the front door. Rhett and Rusty stood in the doorway, a swirling white world as their backdrop.

Rhett grinned and held up a sheet of paper. “Morning. I come with a recipe.” He dipped his head toward Rusty. “And back-up.”

She nodded and forced her attention away from his mouth. She searched his gaze. The wariness she’d seen on her first day again dimmed the light in his eyes. It seemed that what had happened in the barn had affected both of them. But in different ways. “You’d both better come on in.”

She shut the door behind them. Milly and Rusty disappeared into the kitchen while Rhett removed his boots and shrugged off his snow-covered coat. Instead of his usual plaid shirt he wore a black ribbed Henley that fitted like a glove and highlighted every well-honed contour beneath the soft cotton.

“Here, I’ll take that.” She held out her hand for the sheepskin jacket. He handed it to her with a smile and she lost her battle not to look at his mouth. “Why don’t you head into the kitchen. I’ll hang this in the mudroom.”

“So what’s the recipe?” she asked as she joined him in the kitchen.

Rhett turned away from watching the dogs wrestle. He rubbed the clean-shaven edge of his jaw. “I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday. Perhaps Dad is missing Mom but shows his grief in a different way? Perhaps he finds it too painful to talk about her?”