A Christmas Baby For The Cowboy

She cleared her throat. Her chocolate-brown eyes were glassy, but no tears fell.

“Like all of us, he’d depended on Mom for practically everything. She didn’t just run the household. She supported everyone with her internal strength.”

Alyssa sighed wearily. “Dad can’t get along without her. I didn’t know it at the time, but he recently admitted to me that he barely ate anything the first few weeks after Mom was gone. He lost a lot of weight, and it was only then that Eddie and I started noticing the changes in him. He can’t sleep without a sedative. His health has taken a major nosedive and he’s only a shell of the man he used to be.”

“I’m so sorry. To lose your mom that way...”

Twin clefts appeared between her eyes. “We didn’t lose her. She isn’t gone. She walked away. And she didn’t look back. I don’t even know if she considered how her actions would affect the family. She selfishly thought only of herself. Aaron’s death might have been the last straw for her, but I suspect the situation went much further back than that.”

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, not knowing what else he could say. No words could possibly act as a salve on Alyssa’s heart. Cash of all people knew that.

Alyssa was in an even worse predicament than Cash had originally imagined. It was more important than ever that she agreed to accept his help. If Aaron hadn’t died, her mother might not have left. Eddie might still be working in the store alongside Alyssa and their father. Cash had to try to make right the misery he’d caused, not that he would ever be able to do that.

“I’m surprised Eddie didn’t stick around to help you,” he said.

She scoffed. “I wish. Eddie spent last summer wrangling at a local ranch and decided that was what he wanted to do with his life, rather than running our family business as Dad had always intended. I’m happy for him, but—”

“But that leaves you high and dry.”

She nodded. “Exactly.”

“Which means you really do need my help.”

She looked uncertain. He slid his hand down her arm and reached for her hand. Her gaze dropped to where their fingers met but she didn’t remove her hand.

“You could have bid on anyone, but you bid on me. Let me help you.”

“I want to,” she said hesitantly. “But what about the photographer? The publicity? You must realize I don’t have room in my life for extra hassles right now, however small.”

A lightbulb went off in Cash’s mind.

“Maybe that’s precisely what you need.”

She lifted her gaze to his and raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

“Publicity. Free promotion for your store. Pete’s photos can do as much good for Emerson’s as they can for my career. Surely that would be a boon to you, getting your face in front of the masses, so to speak. Let them know about the changes you’re making.”

Her face went from white to flaming red in a single breath of air.

“Not in this lifetime.”

“What? Free publicity?”

“No. My face in front of people. That’s not something I want to do.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” he pressed, as the notion formed into solid concept. “You know all of those car salesmen and ambulance-chasing lawyers on television? They get their clients by using themselves to sell their products and services.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone in Serendipity already knows I run Emerson’s Hardware.”

“Maybe so, but isn’t part of the reason you’re doing the renovation to bring in customers from surrounding towns? To be the go-to store for Kickfire Western wear products?”

“True,” she admitted.

“It’s solid marketing. Giving your store a face is a great way to personalize it,” he said, “and draw in customers. That’s the reason sponsors use me in their commercials. To give their products a face.”

“Yes, but—”

He could see he wasn’t convincing her. She didn’t appear shy or introverted, but it had been a long time since they’d interacted on a personal basis. Maybe he was pushing her out of her comfort zone.

Whereas Cash—well, he loved the limelight.

“No, wait. I’ve got a better idea. I can do it,” he crowed as the lightbulb in his head beamed brighter than the sun.

For the first time since Aaron’s death, he felt excited about an idea, allowing it to break through the black cloud of his meager existence. He embraced the feeling. He wanted to do something other than nurse a tumbler of whiskey to numb his pain.

“Look. I’m trying my best to repair my reputation. If I clean up my act and become a positive influence—and wear Kickfire products—I can be your spokesperson. It’ll help you gain more leverage with the store, and it will help me find new sponsors, once they see what a difference I’ve made for you and Kickfire.”

“Maybe,” she hedged.

He squeezed her hand. “It’s the perfect plan. I help you, you help me.”

He had every intention of helping her with far more than just offering his face for the camera and his public persona for the store. He aimed to receive inventory, move displays around, stock shelves and sweep the floors.

But she didn’t have to know he’d be looking for extra ways to make her life easier.

This was the perfect way to redeem himself. He had developed his own set of moral principles to help him stay on the straight and narrow and he intended to follow those values to the letter.

Not that he ever could.

Not with the burden he carried.

He made a silent promise to himself. By the time he left Serendipity and went back to the rodeo, Alyssa would trust him.

If he couldn’t win her over, there was no hope that the rest of the world would embrace him. Until he proved himself with her, he wasn’t ready to go back to his old life.

“I can see what you’re saying about my marketing plan,” she acknowledged. “But before we go any further, there’s one other issue, and I need you to tell me the truth.”

His heart beat so hard he thought it might leap out of his chest.

“What do you want to know?” he finally asked, his voice raspy with emotions.

She stared at him for a long moment before speaking.

“How many of the rumors I’ve heard about you are true?”

* * *

Alyssa believed asking Cash about his recent past was reasonable, especially if she took him up on his offer to become the face of Emerson’s Hardware. She couldn’t have surprises lurking under every stone, revelations that could potentially harm the good name of Emerson’s Hardware.

She hated to admit it, but what he’d said about her publicity strategy—or lack of one—made sense, even for as small a town as Serendipity. She intended to target several surrounding towns. As Cash had mentioned, people would come in from out of town once they heard she was selling Kickfire products. She’d recently created a website for the store so folks in the tri-county region and beyond could peruse weekly specials and feel compelled to visit her store. She was even looking into the prospect of shipping products directly to consumers.

That would majorly change the focus of her little shop and held the possibility of creating a substantial second stream of income. Her biggest concern was that once Cash fulfilled his obligation, she would once again be working the store alone. No matter how desperately Emerson’s needed a boost in income, she didn’t want to bite off more than she’d be able to chew.

At this point she wasn’t planning to ship beyond the local area, but who knew what the future held?

One thing was certain—having a handsome cowboy hawking the goods—one who’d successfully sponsored other products in the past—would be a definite plus, especially for the Western wear.

But only if she could trust him.

And that was a big if right now.

If Cash was willing to lay it all out on the line and tell her the truth, and if he truly intended to strive to make up for his wrongdoings, she might be able to overlook the predicaments that got him into trouble in the first place.

Even if she had to put up with Martin’s annoying interference and his own ideas for what a publicity campaign should entail, not to mention Pete’s camera flashing.

Everyone deserved a second chance, didn’t they? Even a man like Cash, who’d fallen from grace in the rodeo world and was now struggling just to survive.

Maybe especially a man like Cash.

But only if he came clean now—literally and figuratively.

She waited, her breath catching in her lungs as Cash gathered his thoughts. He dropped his gaze and stared at the picnic blanket.

Was he going to explain what had really happened to him, or was he preparing to put on that false cowboy charm of his and try to find a way to gloss it over?

She suspected he was wearing a mask, and it was up to him to remove it and let Alyssa see what he looked like underneath the facade.

“Yeah. Okay.” He paused and pursed his lips. “You deserve the truth if we’re going to work together.”

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard. Why don’t you tell me, and then I’ll tell you how it really went down?”

“The drinking,” she prompted, saying the first thing that came to mind. She might as well give it to him straight and hope he did the same with her.

“Yes.” He didn’t say another word, just caught her gaze and held it firm.

That was it?

Yes?

There had to be more to it than that.

“You did drink? You still do? I suppose what you do on your own time is your business, but I can’t have you under the influence of alcohol while you’re working at my store, especially with the renovations going on. It could be dangerous.”

“I understand. And to answer your question, at one point I drank a lot, but now I don’t.”

“At all?”

“At all. Look. When I first entered the rodeo scene, I partied as much as the next cowboy, but once I lost Aaron, I lost my moral compass completely. I floundered, not only in my private life, but out in the arena. Alcohol was a way to dull my senses.”

“I’m going to be forthright with you. After everything I heard about you, I half expected you to show up drunk today at the auction.”

He frowned. “I won’t ever do that to you. I promise I’m dry and will do everything in my power to remain that way. But I think it’s only fair to tell you it’s only been three days since my last drink. At this point I’m still going through physical withdrawal, not to mention emotional issues. It’s not easy, but I’m detemined.”

She pinched her lips. “I see.”

She didn’t understand the struggles he was facing. Not really. She’d never even tasted alcohol, much less been tipsy, nor had she ever spent any time around an alcoholic before, so she had nothing to gauge what Cash was pledging to her.

Could he really stop drinking cold turkey, and all on his own, as Martin had insisted?

“Is that a deal breaker?” He tilted his head and met her gaze. Like her, he didn’t couch his question in sweet terms.

She considered his words for a moment, chewing the corner of her lip. After a long pause, she shook her head.

“No. Not necessarily. But know this. If you show up drunk on the job one time, I will kick you out the door faster than any bareback bronc ever did. You have exactly one opportunity to prove yourself. Do we understand each other?”

She knew she was being tough on him, and her demands wouldn’t be easy for him to follow, but she wasn’t about to start pulling punches now. She had her store to think of, before anything else, even her own emotions.

She understood herself well enough to know that if she worked with him, she would become entangled in his battle. She didn’t have the strength, nor the good sense, to hold him at arm’s length, especially if she saw him struggling. So the rules were as much for her as they were for him.

“Understood.” His voice sounded like gravel, as if his throat was lined with sandpaper. “What else?”

She paused, opening and closing her mouth twice, about to speak and then stopping herself.

He tensed, and his gaze narrowed.

“Spit it out. Let’s get everything out in the open now. Like you said. No surprises.”

There was one other thing, but it was a touchy issue, perhaps even more so than his drinking. And Alyssa suspected Cash already knew what she was about to say.

“I heard there was a woman.”

He exhaled and dropped his gaze to his hands, no longer willing or able to meet her eyes.

“Yes. I figured you would have heard about Sharee. She was all over the news with her smear campaign.”

“Is that what it was?”

Alyssa thought she wanted the truth from him. But did she really want to hear it?

What if what Sharee had said was true? What if he had “knocked her up”—Sharee’s words, not hers, and a phrase Alyssa found especially repugnant—and then refused to acknowledge his baby?

“A smear campaign?” He shrugged. “Yes and no.”

“Cash?” she said, when he didn’t continue.

“Yes, she is pregnant with my child. I willingly admit that I’m the father, and I take full responsibility for my actions, both then and now. But not one word of anything else she has blurted to the press is true.

“She’s cast me in a very bad light, making it appear that I abandoned her when she told me I was going to be a father. The truth is, she didn’t even bother to inform me she was pregnant. I had to hear that from the evening news.”

He picked off his hat and tunneled his fingers through his thick black hair.

“Yeah, I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Alyssa. But I didn’t walk out on her, because we never had a relationship. She was a buckle bunny and I was a rodeo cowboy too big for his britches. Which I guess makes me a jerk, so maybe she has that right. She pursued me, not the other way around. Not that I’m making excuses.

“We connected one time, and I was so drunk I barely remember.”

She was trying not to judge Cash. But what kind of man got a girl pregnant like that?

Alyssa felt for the woman, buckle bunny or not. That Cash had a one-night stand with her only made the situation worse.

“And?” she pressed. “What now?”

“Are you asking me about my intentions?”

“I am.”

He could tell her it was none of her business and he would probably be right. But if he did, she would send him on his way, auction or no auction.

“Believe me, I’ve tried to do right by her,” he said, his voice cracking. “And my baby. As soon as I heard she was pregnant, I contacted her. There is no question in my mind that I’m going to pay child support, but it’s more than that. I don’t want my child to grow up without a father. I know I’m a mess right now and not the kind of man who would be a positive influence on a child. But I’d like to share custody after I get my life back together. Being a father is a huge motivation. Except Sharee has made it crystal clear she wants nothing to do with me, nor does she want me to have any part of our child’s life.”

His gaze dropped. “And who can blame her? Look at me. I’m hardly in any position to be a father, to take care of a baby. I’m a wreck.

“I have every intention of doing all I can for my baby—giving my financial support, at least, even if Sharee won’t let me into my child’s life in any other way.” He groaned. “If I can’t really be a father to him or her in the ways that really matter.”

“But if it is your baby—”

“It is. I can’t prove it right now, but I feel it in my gut, and the timing is right.”

“Yes, but then don’t you think...”

“Believe me, that’s all I’ve been thinking about,” he cut in. “I need to be a better man. Not just for the rodeo’s sake, although there is that, since that’s the only way I know how to provide for my baby. But the adjustments I intend to make in the way I live? In a few months my baby will be born. Talk about life changing. Suddenly it isn’t all about me. My baby will be born soon.”

His mouth curved up and a spark fired in his eyes at the mention of his baby’s upcoming birth, but then he frowned and shook his head. “I only saw the ultrasound of the little bean because Sharee shared it on the news. She announced that she had just finished her first—trimester. Is that the right word? Trimester? I don’t know much about pregnancy, and Sharee won’t tell me anything.”

Alyssa didn’t much like the way this woman was treating Cash. Maybe he deserved it for how he’d treated her, but now there was a baby involved. They needed to put aside both their agendas for the child’s sake.

It sounded like Cash wanted to do what was right, but if what Cash said about Sharee was true, she was using her baby for her own gain. It made Alyssa sick just to think about it.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“Don’t be. It’s all my own doing. I dug this hole, and now it’s up to me to crawl out of it. I’m not anywhere close to being ready to be a father, but it’s up to me now to become a good daddy. I know what I have to do now—and that starts with cutting out the whiskey.”

“And that’s why you’ve stopped drinking.”

“I’m three days sober. That doesn’t sound like much, but to me it feels like I’m climbing up the side of a steep mountain. I don’t know if I’ll ever reach the summit, but I have to try.”

At least he was man enough to own up to his mistakes. But was that enough to keep him on the straight and narrow? Alyssa knew enough about alcoholism to know the path wasn’t simple, and she sent up a short, silent prayer that God would be with Cash throughout the struggles he would face.

“So now you know the truth, it’s up to you as to what you want to do with it. With me,” he amended. “Are you willing to help me, not only with my rodeo publicity, but in regaining my life and integrity? Or do I need to look elsewhere?”

Alyssa thought of his agent, Martin, who stood just out of earshot, his gaze zoned in on them and a frown lining his face. At least the photographer who’d taken pictures of Cash at the auction and when they’d first shared the picnic was nowhere to be seen.

But Pete would be back, hanging around Cash, and no doubt getting in the way. Her customers would be bumping into him every time they turned around, and that was to say nothing of how chaotic the renovation might be.

She pressed her palms against her eyes where a headache was forming. It was a lot to consider, and she wished she had more time to think about it, but Cash needed an answer now.

And Cash wasn’t the only one waiting for an answer. Even now, Martin was inching forward. Alyssa was certain he wouldn’t walk away until he got what he wanted.

Her stomach churned, and she prayed she wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of her life.

“Okay, I’ll help you,” she said. “But I’ll be watching you like a hawk. One mistake and you’re gone. Is that clear?”

He gave a curt nod.

“Understood. And thank you.” He tipped his hat at her.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she warned him. “This arrangement can end as quickly as it begins.”

“I get it. It’s all on me.”

“I’ll expect you to be at the store at 8:00 a.m. sharp Monday morning.”

He stood, gesturing toward Martin. “I’d better tell him I’m sticking around so he can make arrangements for Pete to stay in town.”

“Okay. And, Cash?”

“Yeah?” He turned, one dark eyebrow raised.

“Don’t be late.”

Chapter Three

Cash’s head was slamming harder than the nails he was pounding with his hammer. Every movement was excruciating, like an ice pick repeatedly striking his temple. Cold sweat clung to his brow.

He’d been working for Alyssa for nearly a week, which meant he was close to ten days sober. He’d presumed he would be past any physical withdrawal symptoms. Mostly that was the case, but there were moments, like this one, where he felt like he had on his first alcohol-free day.

It was as if his body had a peculiar, regressive muscle memory. A cold sweat covered his skin, his entire body ached, his hands shook with tremors and his head throbbed incessantly.

He wished he had someone to ask about what he was experiencing, someone who had been through withdrawal and who would know if what he was feeling was normal. But he was too ashamed to participate in a twelve-step program or have a sponsor and, anyway, there wasn’t a meeting within an hour’s drive. He didn’t have the time nor the inclination to make that much of a sacrifice.

No, he was going to conquer this all on his own. He’d used the internet to find out as much information on alcoholism as he could, facts he hoped would keep him from backsliding, but there were moments like this one that took every ounce of his willpower to battle.

He blew out an unsteady breath.

One sip and the shakes would go away. Two fingers in a tumbler and the black cloud that always covered his head would no longer threaten to rain on him.

But that was all an illusion, he reminded himself. Just because he numbed himself to the world didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

Alyssa had wasted no time putting Cash to work, and to his surprise, she’d put him on the payroll. He hadn’t expected that, but he gratefully accepted it all the same. Every dime he pocketed was something he could give to his baby. He wouldn’t say no to that.

And he was earning his keep. She needed six wooden storage shelving units built and four dozen new shelves cut, sanded and stained as part of her store renovation, using distressed wood to give the cabinets an old-fashioned appearance.

Building new shelves to mount boot displays on seemed a bit premature to Cash, since the new stock wasn’t slated to arrive for another few months yet.

It hadn’t taken much prompting for Alyssa to open up about her dreams for Emerson’s. She really did love the store and the work she did. Once Cash had got her talking about the renovation, she’d become surprisingly animated, though the stress lines etched on her forehead deepened.

“I have the exclusive opportunity to represent one of the most well-known Western wear companies in the nation—the Kickfire brand. Not only their specialty line of clothing,” she’d explained excitedly when she’d given him a tour of the store and described all the changes she wanted to make, “but their hats and boots, as well.”

“That’s awesome,” he told her. “They’re one of rodeo’s biggest sponsors. They even have a bareback bronc by the name of Kickfire.”

“It is a big honor for me to have pulled in the brand, but it’s also going to be quite a challenge. I’ve promised the company that my renovation will be done before Christmas. Ideally, their product line will be stocked before Black Friday, so folks can buy Kickfire Western wear to use as Christmas presents.”

“The people in Serendipity and surrounding towns are going to be stoked,” he assured her.

“I hope so. But I still have so much to do. I want to patch the drywall and repaint all the walls before the shelves you’re building can be hung. I’m also hoping to replace the wood flooring, if the budget allows. At this point some parts of the renovation are still very much up in the air.”

As far as Cash was concerned, she still had plenty of time before the beginning of the Christmas season to complete her detailed vision, but Alyssa appeared as anxious as if the entire load of stock was heading her way now.

Apparently, she wasn’t as certain as Cash was that she could pull it off. It was a lot to do. She wanted the grand reopening ready to go on Black Friday, with her store completely renovated, newly stocked and thoroughly decked out with Christmas decorations.

Bah humbug.

That was one part of her scheme Cash could do without. He didn’t have much use for Christmas and everything that went along with the season, and it was going to be pure torture for Alyssa to remind him of her holiday goals ten times a day, every day.