Merry Cowboy Christmas (Lucky Penny Ranch #3)(11)

“Groundhog?” Jud said.

She nodded, remembering the old movie, Groundhog Day, where every single day was the exact same as the one before it. “Pretty much. I still saw the same customers almost every day, talked to the same coworkers about important world-changing things like whether we should restock the small cups or the large ones before we closed up every evening. But when I went home, I was alone.”

“Family rallies around when you need them.” Jud tugged his share of the quilt up to his neck. “What did you expect when you came home?”

She shrugged.

“Well, you are here now and it looks like you’re going to do all right, darlin’.”

“Don’t call me that,” she protested.

“Then how about honey pie, sugar, or sweet cheeks?” he teased.

“None of the above. Do you call your sister darlin’?”

“Sometimes, when I’m not mad at her.” He grinned. “And, Fiona, we might have joint kin folks, but we are not related at all.”

“Thank God!” she spit out. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”

He chuckled. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who isn’t related, who isn’t even your friend, isn’t it? Got something on your mind, Fi-o-na?” He dragged out her name, stretching each syllable.

“Nothing except getting outside,” she said. “You?”

He set his jaw firmly. “I feel like a fifth wheel and I’m a little jealous. We pooled our money for this big adventure, but then Blake and Toby wound up married and happy as piglets in a cornfield before I even got here. It’s not the same as it would have been for three bachelors sharing the same house and arguing over who has to fix fences or who has to cook supper that night.”

“Find you a woman and get the same happiness they’ve got,” she suggested.

“I just might do that,” he declared.

“Well.” She inhaled. “I didn’t plan to come back here at all and I’ve had enough of the marriage scene, so I’m not looking for anyone to settle down with.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to live in Dry Creek, so I went to college, got a good job, and thought I had my fifty-year life plan all in order. Then it all fell apart, so I’ll start all over, only this time without letting a smooth-talking guy upset things,” she answered.

He laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she asked tersely.

“Man plans but God or fate or whatever you want to call it has a sense of humor. You’ve proven that, haven’t you?”

“I saw a therapist a few times until I realized that I was running out of money and wasn’t going to get a decent job. She helped me admit that the divorce was partly my fault.”

The hard north wind stung Fiona’s bare cheeks. “Let’s go inside and make some hot chocolate.”

“I’m all for that but what makes you think the divorce was your fault?” he asked as he folded the quilt and handed it to her.

“I was pretending to be something I wasn’t.” She opened the door and hurried inside like a moth driven to the warmth of a flame. Shedding her coat and leaving it on the bottom step, she looked over her shoulder to see Jud hanging his on a hook on the coat rack.

“Did your ex, Kyle, ever come to Dry Creek with you before you were married?”

“A couple of times. He was bored to tears.” She led the way into the kitchen, flipped on the light, and found the hot chocolate mix right where it had been when she was a little girl. She heated two cups of milk on the stove and removed the whipped cream from the refrigerator.

“Then he knew, Fiona. He knew what you were, where you came from and how you’d been raised, so he knew your inner heart.”

“But I didn’t want to be that person. I wanted to be that hotshot woman in high heels and power suits with a leather briefcase.”

Jud poured a packet of hot chocolate mix in each of the mugs. “When did you stop wanting to be that woman? Did you talk to Kyle about it?”

She carefully poured the milk into the mugs and stirred. “I did talk to him and told him that I wanted more time with him. I was ready to start a family and spend more nights at home than out at fancy restaurants or events with potential or existing clients.”

He added a dollop of whipped cream to each and carried both mugs to the table. “And?”

“It was not good. He told me he married a career woman with the top of the ladder always in sight. He didn’t want children, not until we were close to forty, and then he only wanted one son. Within six months he handed me divorce papers. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“Does that mean you don’t trust men?”

Her brows drew together. “Lizzy and I had this conversation. I trust men. I’m not sure I trust my judgment yet or that I ever will. I’m scared that if I find some guy who makes me feel all oozy inside and I marry him, I might realize I still want to be that woman with the briefcase and high heels. It happened in the reverse. Who’s to say that it wouldn’t turn around and happen again?”

He sipped at the hot chocolate. “I got no answers for that one. But I can tell you this is some fine chocolate and it’s warming my insides. Do you feel better for sucking down some of that bitter cold wind?”