Merry Cowboy Christmas (Lucky Penny Ranch #3)(80)

“Never actually thought I’d see this happen,” Jud said.

“You’ve worked some mighty fine magic,” Fiona told him.

“Not really. I think he wanted to be like this all along but he didn’t know how. Now he does. I hope Dora June was serious about that RV thing. He’s so excited that he can’t be still. I’ll be surprised if he keeps the secret another week.” Jud slipped an arm around her waist.

“Mama will be home on Tuesday, so I hope he keeps it until then. I want her to be here when Dora June finds out. It’s all because she invited them to stay here that this has happened.”

Allie bumped Fiona on the arm. “You and Lizzy are going to have to take care of the last of the party. Audrey is getting fussy. I’m glad that she stayed awake long enough to get her first Santa picture made, but I’m taking her upstairs to my old room to rock her for a while.”

Fiona kissed the baby on the forehead. “She’s been passed around a lot tonight. Her little bones are probably sore.”

At eleven-thirty, Truman gave the last present in his bag to a five-year-old who was so tired that she whined because it was wrapped in red paper instead of green. Lizzy and Toby walked them to the door and the second their taillights disappeared, they turned off the porch lights.

“Great party, darlin’.” Toby picked Lizzy up and swirled her around in the foyer.

“Y’all told me an hour,” Truman grouched. “I’ve been sitting here in this chair for three hours and my mouth is dry as bone. I need a drink. Don’t you look at me like that, Dora June. I earned it.”

“The bartenders left thirty minutes ago with the caterers,” Blake said. “I bet I can mix up anything you want. There’s a little liquor left.”

“I don’t want liquor. I want a beer.” Truman pulled the beard and hair off in one motion. “But first, Dora June, I want you to get me out of this pillow contraption so I can go to the bathroom.”

“I suppose you’ve earned a beer,” Dora June said.

“While they’re gone, take what’s left of the liquor out to our truck,” Lizzy said. “We paid too much for that to have Dora June pour it down the drain.”

“Part of it can go upstairs to my room,” Jud offered.

“We’ve got maybe five minutes.” Blake nodded.

Several cold beers were on the dining room table with the leftovers when Dora June and Truman returned. He was dressed in his usual overalls, a pair of bedroom slippers, and a flannel shirt. To imagine him as Santa Claus at that point was impossible.

He picked up a beer and carried it to the living room, where he plopped down in a chair and propped his feet up in a second one. “I ain’t stayed up this late in years,” he said as he tipped back the bottle and took a long gulp.

Dora June sat down across the table from him, propped her feet up, and popped the cork out of a bottle of champagne. “Somebody get us eight glasses from that bar out there. We’re going to celebrate success.”

Truman spewed beer across the table. “Where did you get that?”

“I took it from the bar when they were setting things up. We done good, so don’t you fuss at me, Truman O’Dell. I don’t reckon one glass of this pretty pink stuff will make me drunk,” she told him.

“I’ll get Allie,” Blake stammered.

“Good idea,” Lizzy said. “She won’t want to miss this.”

A few minutes later, Blake carried a sleeping baby, all nestled down into her carrier, into the room. “I see that you’ve got it poured, Fiona. So a toast.” He set the carrier on the floor and picked up a glass in one hand and wrapped the other one around Allie’s shoulders. “To a wonderful year. We’ve made more progress than we thought we would and this party was a big success. Thank you to our wives, to Fiona and to Dora June and Truman for helping us.”

“Hear, hear!” Toby raised his glass.

Everyone followed his lead and touched their glasses together.

“Well, now!” Dora June said when she tasted the champagne. “If I’d of known how good that tasted, I would have saved back two bottles.”

“Dora June!” Truman gasped.

She picked up his bottle of beer and swallowed twice. “Hmmph,” she said. “Mine is better than that stuff. It tastes like yeast bread smells when it’s risin’.”

“Well, I like yeasty bread,” Truman said defensively.

“And I like this pink bubbly stuff,” she said.

“To the Lucky Penny. May it continue to prosper.” Fiona held up her glass again.

Truman hesitated but he clinked his with the others and finished off the remainder of the champagne in his glass. Dora June poured the last of what was left in the bottle in her glass and sipped at it as she stood.

“I’m going to my room now. Tonight will go down in my book of memories as one of my favorites of all times. Truman, you going with me?” she asked.

He picked up his bottle and followed her, weaving his way through the tables to their bedroom at the end of the foyer.

Blake set his glass on the table. “And we’re takin’ this baby home. See y’all in church tomorrow morning. Don’t forget tomorrow is a potluck. I can’t believe Truman has volunteered to play Santa again.”