Merry Cowboy Christmas (Lucky Penny Ranch #3)(12)

She nodded emphatically. “I do. When I finish this, I might even be able to sleep. How about you?”

“Hot chocolate is always good after being outside. Mama made it for me and Josie when we were kids after we’d go out and play in the snow. She had a rule. We could go out there and play as long as we wanted but when we came in, we had to stay inside. According to her, running in and out, getting hot and then cold, over and over again would make us sick.”

“Same rule here. Must be a mama thing,” Fiona said.

Was that where she was in her life? She’d gone out to play in the cold and stayed out there seven years. Now she was back in the house drinking hot chocolate. Did that mean she’d have to stay in for the rest of her life?

“You’re fighting demons, aren’t you?” he whispered softly.

Lord have mercy! Jud’s whisper was even sexier than his slow Texas drawl. She’d been thinking about her own life and hadn’t given a thought to the insane sparks that passed between them when they were in each other’s presence. Then suddenly the brain gears switched and now she wanted to kiss Jud Dawson.

Sure, he’d listened to her. And, yes, it had been over a year since she’d shared a bed with a man. And the way his eyes coveted what his two cousins had with their wives left no doubt that Jud wanted the same. And Fiona wasn’t even going to think about the way his whole face lit up when he held Audrey. Oh, yes, sir! This cowboy wanted a wife, children, and a home in Dry Creek. History would definitely, guaran-damn-teed not repeat itself with the third Logan sister.

He pushed the chair back, rinsed his mug, and put it in the dishwasher. “We all fight the demons in our head from time to time. Just stand your ground and don’t let them win.”

When he passed her chair, he tipped up her chin and brushed a soft kiss across her lips. “Good night, Fiona.”

“You don’t kiss your sister like that, do you?” she sputtered.

“You are not my sister and you’ve needed a kiss for a long time.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m a Dawson, remember?”

He disappeared into the darkness.

She touched her lips to see if they were as hot as they felt and found them to be surprisingly cool. It was a kiss, not a damn proposal, and it would not happen again.





Chapter Five



The little white church in Dry Creek had two rows of pews with a center aisle. The side aisles were barely wide enough for a vacuum cleaner between pews and wall, so few people used them. The Logan pew on the left side of the church was full that day with Fiona sitting next to the wall and Jud Dawson at the far end, leaving the two married couples between him and Katy, who sat next to Fiona that morning.

“How long has it been since you’ve been to church?” Katy whispered as the preacher took his place behind the pulpit.

“I worked seven days a week, Mama,” she answered.

“Then you haven’t been in church in a year?”

Fiona grimaced. “That’s right.”

“Another reason you should be home.”

The preacher cleared his throat. Straying eyes went forward and those who had been slumping sat up tall and straight. God was not going to find a reason to fault a single person in the church that morning.

“Good morning. I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving in spite of that bad weather.” His deep voice hardly needed the microphone to reach the back pews. “And now it’s time to think of Christmas. Since Christmas is on Sunday this week, we will have our holiday program the Wednesday night before, and our usual morning services that Sunday will be postponed until evening. That way all you folks can have the morning with your family.”

He looked down at his Bible and Fiona got ready for the sermon. She would do her best to pay attention since she hadn’t set foot inside a church in a year.

“Before I begin, the ladies have said that after our Wednesday night Christmas service we will have a leftover potluck dinner in the fellowship hall. So be thinking along those lines and bring your leftovers to the potluck that evening for some time of fellowship. Please open your Bibles to Matthew 22, where Jesus said for us to love our neighbors as ourselves. Would you hurt yourself? Would you say mean words to yourself? Would you deny yourself food or shelter?”

Fiona drifted away from the preacher’s booming voice. She felt someone staring at her from the pew behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Truman O’Dell and his wife, Dora June, both giving her the evil eye. Dora June, God bless all three of her chins, had decided to step in and give her sisters advice since Granny was in a care facility and had damn sure rubbed them the wrong way.

But what in the hell had Fiona done to bring the wrath of the O’Dells down upon her? She’d only been in town three days. Surely a year-old divorce wouldn’t be enough to bring out the cross and nails to crucify her. Those two old codgers should be taking in the sermon and thinking of being nice to their neighbors.

“In this upcoming season of love, we should remember to treat our neighbor right, even if they treat us wrong. When our Lord and Savior was on the cross, he asked his Heavenly Father to forgive the people who done that horrible deed to him,” the preacher went on.

Finally, the preacher asked Truman O’Dell to deliver the benediction. The roof came nigh to rising up a good three inches when everyone in the church sighed. Not because the sermon went five minutes over twelve o’clock but because Truman always thanked the almighty for everything from the snow that would bring extra nutrients to the soil, to his goats, to the church building, and the offering that morning. The roast beef in most folks’ ovens would be dried up into jerky by the time they got home to Sunday dinner.