Rodeo Christmas at Evergreen Ranch (Gold Valley #13)(16)

Logan shifted uncomfortably. As far as Jake knew, Logan was still in the process of making peace with his father’s family. He’d spent his whole life disenfranchised from him, but when West, another of Hank Dalton’s secret sons, had married into their family, it had created a bridge between the two worlds that Logan could no longer ignore. As far as Jake was concerned, it wasn’t any of his business what Logan wanted to do one way or the other.

“My family is trash, regrettably,” Sammy said, spreading her hands, “but we understand that many of you have other family to see, and we don’t want to not have a big Christmas celebration, so we’ll make it earlier.”

“Well,” Jake said, feeling deflated, because it solved the entire problem, and all of his objections about going to Eastern Oregon with Cal over Christmas.

And just like that, somehow, he seemed to be facing down two Christmases, and he wasn’t sure how in hell that had happened.

But by then dinner was served, and there was such a fantastic array of every good thing he could’ve hoped for that he quit thinking about Christmases of any kind. He knew well that Callie was used to big noisy families, and his didn’t seem to bother her at all. In fact, she appeared to blend in pretty effortlessly, something that he appreciated. He was glad that his family liked her. Because she was important to him. And that mattered.

After the turkey was demolished, but before Sammy had brought in the pie, Ryder brought out his football, and they started trying to urge people to go outside and play. His cousin was the current football coach at Gold Valley High School, and had always been a major enthusiast. Which Jake thought was sort of unfair, since Colt liked to play his guitar, but only sat in the corner with it and didn’t force his hobbies on others. Though, he had to admit, finding an excuse to crash into his family members was always a good time.

“Before we disperse,” Sammy said, “we have to see who gets the wishbone.”

Sammy was big on all things mystical, and if there wasn’t an inbuilt mysticism to something, then she would create it. And she had begun spinning forks and handing out wishbones fifteen years ago, and there was really nothing anyone could do to stop her.

She gravely set the fork at the center of the table and spun it—whoever the tines faced would become the recipient of the wishbone.

The tines faced Cal.

She looked at him, her eyes round. “What does that mean?”

“You get to pull the wishbone in half with someone. Whoever gets the bigger half—”

“I mean, I know how a wishbone works,” she said, looking grumpy. “I just didn’t know about the spinning forks.”

“That’s because I made it up,” Sammy said proudly.

“Well, who do I... Who do I pull it with?”

“Jake can do it,” Sammy crowed.

“Sure,” Jake said, casting her a sideways glance.

Sammy passed the bone down to him and Cal. He gripped one side, and held it out in front of Callie. “Are you ready?”

Half of her lips lifted into a rueful smile. “Sure.” She stuck her hand out and grabbed the other end, and their eyes met.

She pressed her lips together, and he couldn’t help but...

Dammit.

He didn’t have a wish. All he had was a brief flash of what it might feel like if his mouth touched hers. And then she broke the bone.

And he was left with the big half.

“I guess you win. Doesn’t that mean your wish will come true?” she asked.

His gut went tight. Hell.

“Football,” Ryder said.

Saved by his cousin and his unfailing commitment to tradition.

“Don’t I get to know what you wished?” Cal asked.

“That’s not how it works,” Sammy said gravely. “He can’t tell you what he wished or it won’t come true.”

That was a catch-22 if Jake had ever heard one, but it didn’t much matter, because he was already being ushered outside with a football, and his family. He could only hope that the womenfolk didn’t consume Cal. And that she wasn’t angry that she’d been left behind with the women—maybe she wanted to play football? He didn’t know. He hadn’t asked.

“Getting married?” Ryder asked as soon as the door closed behind them.

“Shut up and play, Daniels,” Jake said.

“Seriously,” Colt said. “You’re going to marry Callie Carson, and you think that Abe Carson isn’t going to wring your neck?”

Yeah, well. His brother had a point. “Not my problem, since I’m not in the rodeo anymore.”

“But he might kill me,” Colt said. “And that’s relevant to my interests. Or dis-interests, as the case may be.”

“What you do has nothing to do with what I do, and he knows that. Everyone knows it. We’re not the same person.”

“It’s not like family and the rodeo is rare,” he said.

It was true. Brothers often found themselves competing, and they were often carrying on a legacy left behind by their fathers. It just wasn’t unusual for families to be part of the business. And sure, families did tend to get lumped in together, but it was also just usual enough that it wasn’t like people assumed you were the same just because you were related. And Jake and Colt were not the same.