Merry Cowboy Christmas (Lucky Penny Ranch #3)(37)

“Well, according to Truman, that well never had water because they hit limestone, which he thought was a hoot. He figured he was delivering bad news to me, but it was really good news. I’m going to talk to Blake and Toby first, since this is a joint venture but…” He paused.

“You think you are sitting on oil?”

He nodded. “Or natural gas, but my nose says it’s oil.”

She leaned forward and held out her nearly empty bottle to clink with his again. “That’s fantastic. Good luck with it. Are you going to use your old work connections to drill it for you?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m going to subcontract a rental agreement for the equipment and sink it myself. It will take every dime of what I’ve got saved and my inheritance from my grandparents, but if I hit oil, it will all come back to the Lucky Penny.”

“And if you don’t?”

“Then I’ll be broke, but at least I won’t have cost the ranch anything,” he said. “It will take a few months to get it going, and Josie might even want to partner with me. She’s thinking about it.”

“That’s a big risk.”

Another nod. “Life is full of risks. We make a decision based on what we have to work with that day, not the day before because that bronc has already been ridden or the day after because that wild horse isn’t ready to ride, but today.”

Fiona drained the last drop from her beer bottle. “I had no idea you were a philosopher.”

His slightly lopsided grin warmed her heart. Why had she not noticed that his smile wasn’t perfect?

“Me? I’m just a rough old cowboy with a pretty good nose for oil. That’s why I couldn’t get here before now. I had another year on my contract with a company based out in the panhandle. I’m not bragging, but if I said to drill in a certain place, they sunk a well.”

“You ever wrong?” she asked.

“One time, but I stopped the job before it started.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“Josie thought it was a mistake and the more I listened to her, the more I realized she might be right. I went back over my notes, went back to the site, and I had doubts. So they didn’t drill. Usually Josie and I agreed, but that time she was right and I was wrong.”

Fiona picked up an extra pillow and hugged it against her stomach. “Did it hurt to admit that to your sister?”

“Hell, yes, it did. And she rubbed it in for weeks,” he chuckled.



There was something about Fiona’s fire that drew Jud to her like a gypsy to a bonfire. He looked forward to the evenings when they talked. He missed having breakfast with her. His heart skipped half a beat when he walked into the store and there she was either behind the counter or at that table in the back room with the laptop in front of her.

It could simply be because they were thrown together, living in the same house, kin to the same people, working in a town with a population of less than five hundred people, so there weren’t many folks to talk to. But that argument wouldn’t hold water if he was honest. He was flat out attracted to her.

She threw her legs off the bed. “I’ll take care of the beer bottles if you’ll take what’s left of those dirty dishes in the morning.”

“What are you going to do with them?” he asked.

“Hide them in my coat pockets and then toss them in the Dumpster out behind the store. It’s an old trick us girls perfected years ago.” She smiled.

“You drank beer under your mama’s nose?”

“When we could get it,” she said. “But never more than one or two at the most. Us Logan girls cannot hold our liquor worth a damn. Both Lizzy and Allie had their first drunk experience after your brothers came to the Lucky Penny. I won’t be following in their footsteps.”

“Did Blake make them do his hangover cure?” Jud asked.

“Oh, yes, and from what I hear it’s a miracle, but I hate, absolutely hate, bananas.”

“Noted. No bananas for you.” Jud stood, handed her his beer bottle, and slung an arm around her shoulders. “Let me walk you to your room.”

“I’m pretty sure I can make it on my own,” she laughed, and rolled her eyes. “But I appreciate the gesture.”

“Aw, where’s the fun in that?”

Jud wanted to kiss her again. No, he wanted to kiss her lots of times and then slowly lead her back to his room, tumble her onto his bed, and make slow, sweet love to her all night. Instead, he kissed her knuckles one at a time and then cupped her face in his big hands and lowered his mouth to hers for a long, lingering kiss.

“Good night,” he whispered, and turned around to go back to his room.

“Jud,” she called out.

He glanced over his shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows. “Change your mind?”

“Dora June would catch us for sure,” she giggled. “These old beds have squeaky springs.”

“I wouldn’t worry about her hearing the springs nearly as much as hearing your screams,” he teased as he shut the door to his room.



The next morning, Jud hit the floor with determination to make progress on thawing Truman a little more. Fiona had been right about the squeaky springs, because he heard her tossing and turning as he tiptoed past her bedroom door early that morning. A picture flashed through his mind of the two of them making beautiful music with those springs, but he quickly made himself think of other things.