The Cowboy's Christmas Courtship

“It’s about time.” She smiled, and he smiled back.

“I haven’t been gone that long.”

“Since summer.” She grabbed him in a big hug. “I thought you’d be here an hour ago. I was starting to worry. I even called your cell phone.”

“I left it in my truck.”

“Weren’t you in your truck?” She pulled him inside. “Where were you?”

“Helping Layla Silver put some cattle in.”

His mom’s smile dissolved. “She’s had a rough time of it lately. Word around town is that Brandon has been pulling some capers.”

Capers. That was his mom’s way of saying the kid was in deep trouble.

“What kind of capers?”

“Stealing, setting hay on fire and vandalizing. But he hasn’t been caught, so it’s all just hearsay.”

“Well, right now he’s sitting in her kitchen drunk.”

“I’ve heard that, too. And it’s a shame. His daddy was a horrible alcoholic before that accident. They say he was drunk that night.”

“I know.” He didn’t need to hear the story again. He didn’t need to relive his own guilt again. “What’s for dinner?”

Change of subject. His mom looked up at him, her smile fading into a frown. “I thought we were discussing Layla?”

“I know what we were doing. Now we’re avoiding discussing Layla.”

He’d like to avoid reliving his past and all of his mistakes in the first few hours of returning home. There wasn’t a thing he could do about what he’d done. He couldn’t do anything about the injustices in the world, when guys like him walked through life without a bump or bruise while the good guys took the hits.

Good guys, like his brother Reese, blinded after an explosion in Afghanistan. Gage was not on good terms with God right now, and Reese was the big reason why.

The last thing he wanted to think about was Layla, and how he’d become her friend because Cheryl Gayle wouldn’t talk to him. Finally, after a few short dates with Cheryl, he’d realized his mistake. She’d been pretty—and pretty close to annoying.

And he’d missed Layla. He always thought she’d be married by now. If things had been different, she probably would have been.

“Gage, I’m glad you’re home,” Angie Cooper said, reading the look on his face.

“I’m glad I’m home, too.” He walked with her through the big living room. In a few days they’d put up a tree. Not a real one. They’d changed to fake trees the year his brother Travis met Elizabeth. Her allergies had almost done her in that first Christmas.

Now the wagon ride they used to take to cut down a tree was just a wagon ride. They would all pile in the two wagons, take a ride through the field and then come home to hot cocoa and cookies. Family traditions. The Coopers did love them.

He wasn’t crazy about them. He’d been living in Oklahoma City off and on. Had even spent some time down in Texas. Anything to avoid coming home.

“It was good to have Dad out there for the last night of the finals.” It had been even better to wake up in the hospital and see his dad sitting next to the bed.

“He was thrilled that he could be there. And so proud of you. But I would have liked for you to come home and have the surgery here instead of in Texas.” His mom touched his arm. “How is Dylan?”

Dylan was a year older than Gage, and the two brothers had always been close. Dylan had been living in Texas for about a year, avoiding the family. Mainly because he had known they wouldn’t understand what he was doing. “Mom, he’ll be home as soon as he can.”

“Why is he doing this?”

“Because Casey is his friend, and she needs someone to help her while she goes through chemo. She doesn’t have family.”

“I know but it’s a big responsibility for a young man.”

“He’s twenty-eight, and you’ve taught us all to help those in need.”

“It’s one lesson you’ve all learned.” She hooked her arm through his. “Jackson is here.”

“Good. I meant to tell him about a few bulls that are going up for sale.”

“You boys and those bucking bulls.” She shook her head. He didn’t mind that she didn’t get it. She got just about everything else that mattered. Before she walked away he hugged her again.

“I’ve missed you.”

She smiled at that, “I’ve missed you, too. Sometimes I don’t know if you know how much. Which reminds me. You missed Thanksgiving last Thursday. But you did not miss serving dinner tonight at the Back Street Community Center.”

He nearly groaned. He hadn’t timed this as well as he’d thought. Each year they had a community dinner a week after Thanksgiving.

“How long do I have?”

She patted his back. “A few hours. Don’t try to leave.”

From the kitchen he heard Jackson laugh. Gage walked into the big open room that always smelled like something good was cooking, and usually was. He ignored Jackson and opened the oven door. Rolls. He inhaled the aroma and closed the door.

“Better stay out of there or Mom will have your hide.” Jackson poured himself a cup of coffee and offered one to Gage.

“No, thanks.”

“Did I hear you say something about Layla Silver?”

Gage shook his head.

Jackson took a sip of coffee and stared at him over the rim of the cup. Gage zeroed in on the pies lined up on the counter. He went for one but his mom slapped his hand away.

“Those are for the community center.”

“I had restaurant food for Thanksgiving. Don’t I rate at least a piece of pumpkin pie?”

“Not on your life, cowboy. You could have come home.”

“I couldn’t leave Dylan.”

His mom went to the fridge and opened the door. “I have a coconut cream pie I made a couple of days ago. Knock yourself out.”

“Thanks, Mom. That’s why you’re the best. Where’s Dad?”

“He took a load of cattle to Tulsa. He’s staying there tonight.”

Gage grabbed a fork and headed for the table to finish off the pie. “So, you guys have fun at the community center.”

He knew he wouldn’t get away with skating out on helping. He thought it would be fun to try. He took a bite of pie, closing his eyes just briefly to savor the taste. His mom’s pies were the best.

“You’re going with me,” his mom said from the kitchen as she opened the oven door and removed the homemade rolls. “Jackson, Madeline and Jade are helping, too.”

“You know I can’t stand for long periods of time.” He grinned as he tried out his last excuse, pointing to the knee he’d had surgery on.

“We’ll get you a chair to sit on.”

He’d lost. He knew when to let it go.

Jackson sat down next to him. “Lucky for you, Layla Silver will be there, too.”

“Thanks...that makes it all better.” Gage finished off his pie. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”

He made it upstairs to his room and collapsed on the bed that had the same bedspread he’d used as a teen. The posters on the walls were of bull riders he’d looked up to as a kid. Justin McBride, J. W. Hart and Chris Shivers. He crooked one arm behind his head and thought about how life had changed. He’d wanted to be them. Now he rode in some of the same events they’d ridden in. But he was still running from life.

Since he had time he flipped on the TV and searched for reruns of the finals. He didn’t find them so he settled for a few minutes of a popular sitcom. A guy who had made mistakes and was trying to make amends to the people he’d hurt. Gage thought about how much he had in common with the guy in that show. Since his bull wreck at the finals, he’d been thinking a lot about his list of wrongs.

How did he make amends to the people he’d hurt? Where did he start? He sighed, because he knew that he needed to start with the person he’d hurt the most. The person who liked him the least.

How did he do that without giving her the wrong idea?

* * *

The parking lot at Back Street Community Center held about fifty cars. So far there were only a dozen or so. Layla parked her old truck and reached for the green bean casserole she’d brought. In the passenger seat, Brandon looked miserable and almost as green as the casserole.

“Come on. You can help serve.” She handed him the dish. “Don’t drop it.”

“I think I can manage to carry a pan.” He had that sullen, teen look on his face. She ignored it because she knew he wanted to get a rise out of her.

“Let’s go, then.”

“Why can’t I help the guys put together the buildings for the nativity?” He nodded in the direction of Bethlehem, or at least the Dawson version.

As they walked by, the star over the manger lit up briefly, flickered and went out again. Someone yelled that they’d found the short in the cord.

Brandon slowed, probably hoping she’d tell him to do what he wanted. She shook her head.

“You’re going inside.”

He groaned. “I thought helping out was a good thing, and you’re telling me I can’t.”

“You’re helping, just not where you want to help.”

They walked through the light mist to the front of the church that Jeremy and Beth Hightree had turned into a community center. Brandon lagged, his face one of absolute misery. For a second she almost caved, nearly told him he could help with the nativity buildings. But then she remembered why she’d dragged him along.

Days like this made her wish for someone to lean on. An aunt or uncle, anyone. But the one uncle they had was just as bad an alcoholic as their father had been. An aunt who was married lived in Africa. She and her husband were missionaries and rarely came home.

She walked through the doors of the old church and paused for a moment, feeling a wonderful sense of calm. The sanctuary of the church had been turned into a dining room. Tables were spread with white cloths. Pretty centerpieces added color. Layla could smell the aroma seeping up the steps. Turkey, ham, all of the typical Thanksgiving foods for this community dinner.

Peace. She looked to the front of the church where the wooden cross still hung on the wall. For a brief moment she closed her eyes and drew on a strength that came from within. She didn’t have family to turn to but she had God. She had a community that loved her.

“Are you going to stand here all night?” Brandon sulked behind her.

“No.” She moved on, walking through the sanctuary to the stairs.

“I’m going to stay the night with Lance,” Brandon informed her as they headed down the stairs.

“No, you’re not.” She took the dish from his hands. The friend he’d mentioned was off-limits. “You’re going to help me and then we’re going home. And you’re going to stay home. You’re grounded.”

“Layla, you’re five feet tall. How are you gonna make me?” He towered over her. She knew he had a point. And it made her mad. In the past year he’d started challenging her, making things difficult. It had been easy when he was little. Now he needed a dad.

Standing in the kitchen of the community center, they had an audience. He did that on purpose. He picked public places to argue because he thought she would give in.

“Brandon, you’re staying home.”

“Who’s going to stop me if I decide to leave?”

“I guess I’ll make you.” She knew that voice.

Gage stepped out of the shadows. He’d shaved and changed into new jeans and a button-up shirt. He’d left behind the shadow of growth on his chin. The dark stubble distracted her. He was talking again and Brandon looked a little cornered.

“Brandon, if I have to, I’ll drive you home and I’ll make sure you stay there.”

Brandon smirked. “Who gave you a suit of armor and a white horse?”

Layla’s thoughts exactly. Brandon had probably heard her say that at some point. She’d repeated more than once that she didn’t need help. She could handle things. But lately it had been getting a lot harder. Losing her job had been the last straw.

“I don’t need a suit of armor, jack...” Gage closed his mouth and then smiled across the kitchen at his mother, who had cleared her throat to stop him from going too far.

“Well, I don’t need you to play daddy to me. I’m doing just fine.”

Gage got close to her brother. “You’re going to serve turkey, smile and be polite to your sister. If not, we’ll call the police and have a talk with them about you coming home drunk.”

Layla wanted to scream. Gage Cooper had been home for one day and suddenly he thought he had to ride to her rescue. She could do this. She’d been doing this for a long time. Her eyes filled with tears as she thought about how to take control of the situation.

Angie Cooper appeared at her side, always warm and smiling, always generous. Layla wanted to sink into her arms, but she couldn’t let herself be comforted right now. It was too risky because she was too close to falling apart.

“Let Gage do this.” Angie slipped an arm around Layla. “You need to take a deep breath and let people help.”

Layla nodded, but she couldn’t speak. Her strength was a thin cord that was unraveling. Instead of objections she mumbled something like “thank you,” and then she allowed Angie Cooper to lead her back to the kitchen, where they searched for serving spoons and talked about the weather forecast.

People were starting to file in. There were families who might not have had a Thanksgiving dinner and people from the community who wanted fellowship with neighbors, talk about the price of cattle and the drought, maybe catch up on other news.

All around her, people were talking, smiling and laughing. Layla was trying to find a way to hold her life together and keep her brother from ruining his. She served her green bean casserole and kept an eye on Brandon, who had been given the job of serving drinks.

She avoided looking at Gage. He’d found a kitchen stool to sit on while he served potatoes. From time to time he’d stand and stretch. Typical bull rider with a broken body and too much confidence.

Once, he caught her staring. He winked and she knew she turned a few shades of red. She could feel the heat crawl from her neck to her face, and probably straight to her hairline. She turned back to the next person in line and served a spoonful of green beans, smiling as if everything was perfect. Wonderful.

But Gage Cooper smiling at her was anything but perfect.

When the meal ended and the kitchen was clean, Layla went in search of her brother. She found him upstairs helping Gage carry bags of trash to the Dumpster. The night was dark and cold. The stars were hidden by clouds and the weatherman had said something about snow flurries. It was early in the season for snow in Oklahoma.

“Time to go.” She stood on the sidewalk as they tossed the bags into the receptacle.

Gage turned to Brandon. “Get in my truck.”

“Gage, I can do this.” Layla pulled her jacket tight against the wind and looked from him to her brother.

“I know that.” Gage pointed to his truck, and Brandon hurried across the parking lot like an eager puppy. Layla felt the first bits of anger coming to life.

“What in the world?” She watched Brandon climb in the passenger’s side of Gage’s truck.

“He’s going to help me at the ranch tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“To keep him out of trouble.” Gage tilted his hat back and walked toward her. “Layla, I’m trying to help. Maybe show you that I’m sorry.”

“So this is your way of making things right? You pretended to need help in chemistry.”

“I did need help in chemistry.” He grinned that Cooper grin that went straight to a girl’s heart. Not hers, though. She knew better.

“And now I’m just a charity case that makes you feel better about yourself?”

“You aren’t charity,” he started. “But you’re right. I am trying to feel better about myself.”

“Use someone else to soothe your guilty conscience.”

He smiled again, and her heart ached. “There are plenty of people that I need to make amends to. I’ll get to them.”

“As soon as you’re done with me?” She shook her head. “At least you’re honest.”

“Yeah, trying to be.” His eyes softened, hazel-green and fringed with dark lashes. “You’re too good for me, Layla.”

She thought about it for a minute. “You’re right. I am too good for you.”

“Exactly. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m about done in. I’m going to drive your brother home, and I’ll pick him up bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“I have to work at the feed store in the morning. You might have to wake him up.”

“I can do that. And I’ll bring him home when you get off work.”

She bit down on her bottom lip and stared up at him, wondering if this was another game he was playing, a game she didn’t have the rules for. He liked those games. She didn’t. At the same time, she really needed help with her brother. Hadn’t she whispered that prayer just hours earlier?

Across the way lights came on in Jeremy and Beth Hightree’s home. The tree in the front window lit up, and a spotlight hit the manger in the yard. Christmas. It was a beautiful, wonderful time of hope and promise.

“I’m not sure.” She looked from the Hightree’s decorated house back to Gage.

“Layla, let me do this. The kid’s in trouble and you need help with him.”

She didn’t want to admit it, but she did need help. She was worried about Brandon, about the guys he was hanging out with and the rumors about what they were doing. It had never been easy for her to accept help.

The first few years she’d worried that if she struggled, they’d take her brother away. It became a habit, doing things on her own.

“You can trust me.”

She nodded and walked away, Gage’s words following her to her truck. She doubted that she could trust him, but for a few minutes she had the very break she’d been praying for.

She would have to accept that it had been given to her by Gage Cooper. He was home, and she would have to face the past, and the way he’d hurt her all those years ago.

Chapter Three

Gage pulled up to the Silver place the next morning. It was eight o’clock and he’d already been to the barn that morning. He’d fed horses, driven out to check on cattle grazing on the back part of the ranch and then he’d had a big breakfast. Jackson had showed up to work with some young bulls they were hoping to buck next spring.

He walked up to the square white house, just a box with wood siding, a fairly new metal roof and a front porch that could use a few new boards. The only sign of Christmas was the wreath on the front door. He guessed it was still early, barely December.

The house was silent. Gage knocked on the door twice. No one answered. He turned the doorknob. It was unlocked so he walked inside and walked from room to room. No sign of Brandon. He went back outside. Maybe the kid had actually gotten up early to feed for Layla. But Gage doubted it.

He walked out to the barn, his left leg stiff in the brace. It was going to be a long two months gimping around. The dog joined him. It wagged its tail, rolled over on its back for him to rub its belly. He obliged and then straightened to look around.

The few head of cattle were munching hay. He turned, scanning the horizon. That’s when he spotted a lone figure heading across the field in the direction of town.

“Good grief.” He shook his head and turned back to the truck. The dog followed. “Stay.”

The border collie sat, tail wagging, brushing dirt back and forth. He smiled at the dog. “Okay, you can go.”

The dog ran to his truck and jumped in the back. He doubted Layla would thank him for that. He’d call her later and let her know where the animal had gone. As he pulled down the drive he watched the figure getting smaller and smaller. Brandon had cut through the field and he was climbing the fence to get to the road. Gage hit the gas and took off, dust and gravel flying out behind his truck.

When he pulled up next to the kid, Brandon shot him a dirty look and kept walking. Gage rolled down his window.

“Get in.”

“I can’t. I told a friend I’d help him get some hay up today.”

“There isn’t anyone putting up hay at the end of November.” Gage stopped the truck. “Get in, now. If you don’t, I’ll call the police and we’ll see what they think about underage drinking.”

“Like you’ve never done it.” Brandon stopped. He stood at the side of the road, all anger and teenage rebellion.

“Right, well, I’ve done a lot I’m not proud of. But I never came home and puked on my mom’s floor.”

“She’s my sister, not my mom.” Brandon shot him a look and then looked back at the road ahead of him. “How’d you know?”

“I overheard Layla telling someone at the dinner last night. You know, she’s given up just about everything to stay home and take care of you. The least you could do is man up a little and help her out. She only got one semester of college in before she had to be a full-time mom to you. I don’t think she’s had much of a social life. She sure isn’t having a lot of fun.”

Brandon walked toward the truck. “Aren’t you the user who pretended you liked her back in high school?”

“I told you, I’ve done a lot I’m not proud of.”

“So now you get to tell me how to live? Maybe we could both get right with Jesus on Sunday.”

Gage whistled low. “You don’t really play fair.”

“No, I don’t. I just figure you aren’t really the best guy to be preaching at me.”

Gage opened his truck door fast, and Brandon jumped back, no longer grinning. “Get in the truck.”

Brandon’s hands went up in surrender, and he put distance between himself and Gage by walking around the truck to get in on the passenger side. Gage climbed back behind the wheel and shifted into gear. Neither of them talked for a while. As they were pulling up the drive of Cooper Creek Ranch, Brandon glanced in the back of the truck.

“Is that my dog?”

Gage pulled up to the barn. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“What’s she doing here?”

“She acted like she didn’t want to be left at home alone today.”

“That’s crazy. Layla’s going to be pretty ticked if she comes home and the dog is gone.”

“I’ll call and tell her I have you and the dog.” He parked and got out of the truck. Brandon took his time joining him.

The side door of the barn opened, and Jackson walked out, his hat pulled low. He took off leather gloves and looked from Gage to Brandon before shaking his head. He shoved the gloves in his jacket pocket and waited.

“You two ready to work?” Jackson made strong eye contact with Brandon.

“Sure, why not.” Brandon edged past Jackson into the barn.

“Nice kid.” Jackson slapped Gage on the back. “The two of you can be surly together.”

“I’m not surly.” Gage strode past his brother, not much different from what Brandon had done. He watched him walk down the aisle between stalls, looking closely at the horses in the stalls.

“Nice horses.” Brandon stopped in front of the stall that belonged to the champion quarter horse Jackson and Lucky had bought a year or so back.

“Yeah, he’s nice all right. Don’t let Jackson catch you messing around with him.”

“Yeah, guess we could actually pay off the mortgage on the farm and then some with a horse like that.”

Mortgage. Gage tried to pretend he hadn’t heard the remark, but it settled in his mind, making him wonder what mortgage they could have on a nearly decrepit farmhouse and twenty acres of rough land.

Maybe that explained the dark circles under Layla’s eyes? Not that a guy was supposed to notice those things. He’d learned that lesson from his sisters the hard way.

“Where do we start?” Brandon moved on past the stallion to the office.

Gage followed him inside and watched as the teen took a seat and kicked back, his booted feet on the desk.

“Get your feet down.” Gage knocked Brandon’s feet off the desk. “First, we have steers needing to be vaccinated. We’ll drive them into a round pen on the twenty where they’re pastured.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Gage motioned him toward the door. The two of them headed for an old farm truck. Jackson was stowing supplies in the metal toolbox on the back of the truck. He turned as they approached.