Merry Cowboy Christmas (Lucky Penny Ranch #3)(18)

“That’s not—” Katy started.

One of Dora June’s palms shot up. “Let me finish. If I had to live in a hotel, I’d be crazy in a week with nothing to do. You’ve given me a nice place to stay and I will take care of the cooking and the cleaning of the downstairs. I can’t climb them steps with my knees or I’d do the whole house, but the rest is what I need to do to keep myself from thinkin’ about what has happened today.”

She sat down in a rocking chair. “Truman ain’t none too happy anyway and he’ll feel less like he’s takin’ charity if I help out around here. It won’t be but a few weeks at the most while we decide whether to build or just buy a trailer and park it somewhere on our property, but while we are here, let me help, please.”

“Thank you.” Jud smiled. “That will give me more time to work on the Lucky Penny. I bet you cook like my granny back home in Muenster.”

Dora June smiled for the first time. “I’ll fatten you right up, Mr. Dawson.”

Fiona followed Jud’s lead. “It will take a load off me and Mama when we have to work all day at the store, so thank you, Dora June. But you don’t have to buy all the groceries to feed us.”

“Yes, I do and yes, I will. Now I’m going on back there to take a nap with Truman. He’s an old bear and he hates Christmas, so if Jesus Christ himself told him the lights didn’t cause that fire, Truman wouldn’t believe him. But I know how to handle him, so don’t worry.” Dora June stood up and a few minutes later they heard the bedroom door shut softly.

“So you get a maid and a cook,” Allie said.

“Silver lining, but it don’t mean the cloud isn’t jet black,” Fiona answered back. “You want a maid? I can send them over to you.”

“No thank you,” Allie and Lizzy said together.



Jud removed a gallon of milk from the refrigerator and filled a glass to the brim. He set that on the table and went back to the cabinet to cut a slab of chocolate cake from the pan. He had just put the first forkful into his mouth when Fiona peeked around the door frame.

“Whew!” She wiped her brow dramatically. “I thought it might be Truman in here for a late night snack and I sure don’t want to deal with him tonight.”

“Just me, but if you think he might prowl around, we could take it to the hall upstairs and sit on the floor,” Jud said.

“Sounds like an excellent idea. I’ll meet you up there in five minutes. I came after the same thing you’ve got going,” she said.

Nine doors flanked the two sides and end of the wide hall. Six led into bedrooms and one into a linen closet. One opened up to a set of stairs leading to the attic. The ninth door had a cute little plaque on the outside that let everyone know it was the necessary room.

Tucked into one nook was a pair of dark crimson wing-back chairs that flanked a small table with a lamp. An old oak credenza stood straight across the hall from it. The bathroom at the end of the hall sported an ancient claw-foot tub, quite possibly put into the house when it was built.

Jud had cracked the bathroom door enough to let a sliver of light out and was hidden at the end of the credenza when Fiona showed up. She tiptoed even though she was barefoot and walking on carpet. One hand held a glass of milk, the other a chunk of cake twice as big as what Jud had. She sat down to his left and balanced the cake on her lap. A picture of Rudolph all tangled up in Christmas lights was printed on her knit sleep shirt. The faded red bottoms were baggy enough that Jud had no doubt they could have fit Dora June, but she looked so damn cute he could hardly keep his hands off her.

“So you couldn’t sleep, either? Worried about the new houseguests?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable turning so much of the housework over to Dora June. I know she can do it and she wants to, but dammit! I like to cook and this is the first time in ages that I can make anything I want. I’ve been looking forward to making Christmas cookies and decorating them,” Fiona admitted.

“Just tell her that you are making cookies or candy or cakes. Do you make those Martha Washington candy things? I’ll shoot them both and drag their bodies off to the back of the property if they get in your way of making those. Next to Aunt Bill’s fudge, they are my all-time favorite and I don’t get either very often.”

Fiona nodded. “Yes, I make both but I didn’t have anyone to eat them with this past year. And I was too busy to make candy or cookies when I was married.”

The thin ray of light from the bathroom lit up a smear of chocolate icing on the corner of her mouth. He shifted his position until he was in front of her, sitting with his legs crossed and his knees touching hers.

“What?” she said as he leaned forward.

“Chocolate. Be still.” He wiped it away with his thumb and then licked it off.

Little lightning bolts shooting around in the landing were so real that he expected to hear thunder rolling, but nothing happened. Women had never affected Jud Dawson like that, but there was something about those luscious full lips that begged to be kissed and it was far different than any bar bunny he’d ever picked up.

She scraped the icing stuck to her plate with her finger and licked it off.

He followed her lead and cleaned his plate with his finger. “Want me to take the plates down to the kitchen? No need in both of us going.”