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The Cowboy's Christmas Courtship

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2019
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The owner of the local diner had always been good to Layla. When the job opened, Layla had jumped on it. Yes, it added one more thing to her to-do list, but it would bring in a little extra money at Christmastime.

“When are you going to start working for Vera?”

She walked up to the corral and reached up to pet Pretty Girl’s velvety nose. The mare nuzzled against her palm, her breath warm, her lips twitching and soft. The mare was her dream horse. But dreams changed.

A hand, strong and firm rested on Layla’s back. She wanted to shift away from the touch, but she couldn’t. Not even when the hand rested on her shoulder, his strong arm encircling her.

“Don’t get rid of her, Layla.”

Why did his voice have to be so soft, so sincere?

Buck up, Layla. She gave herself the stern lecture and moved from his embrace. “I need to get ready for church.”

“I’m going to finish that fence.” He reached for her arm and she stopped. “Layla, don’t give up.”

“I won’t.” She smiled and backed away from him. “And thank you, for the fence, for talking. I’ll see you later.”

He waved and then headed back to the fence he’d been working on. She watched him go before she hurried across the yard to the house to finish getting ready. As she headed to her room she yelled at Brandon to get up. He wasn’t skipping church. She heard him mutter that he was awake.

She’d give him ten minutes.

Now she had to figure out what she would wear to church. She opened her closet and rummaged through the clothes. A stack of notebooks on the bottom of the closet caught her attention. She hadn’t looked at them in years. She didn’t plan on looking at them now. Who needed voices from the past to remind them how it felt to have a broken heart?

That girl of sixteen was long gone. She had work-callused hands, a heart that didn’t have time for romance and bills to be paid at the first of the month.

At a quarter to ten she walked through the house, carrying the boots she would wear with her denim skirt and searching for her Bible and her brother. She found her Bible on the table next to the chair she’d fallen asleep in two nights ago. She didn’t find Brandon.

She slipped her feet into her boots and grabbed a jacket off the hook next to the door. She knew where she’d find her brother. And she was right. He was down at the fence with Gage.

After tossing her purse and Bible in the truck, she walked down to where the two were working away, laughing and talking like old friends. She watched as Brandon pulled the wire tight and Gage clipped it to the metal post.

“It’s time to go to church.” Layla shivered in the cool morning air.

“I’m going to stay here and help Gage.” Brandon didn’t even look up. But Gage met her eyes and she glared, letting him know this was his fault.

“You’re going to church.” Layla cleared her throat and stood a little taller. “Come on.”

“Layla, Gage doesn’t go to church, so I’m not going.”

She heard Gage groan. She shot him another disgusted look.

He sighed.

“Guess I’m going today,” Gage grumbled, clipping the last strand of wire. “Come on, kid, before you get us both in trouble.”

Brandon looked from Gage, whom he had obviously counted on to be his ally, to Layla. “Seriously, you’re giving in to her. Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“I’m not dressed for church.” Brandon tried the argument, and Layla knew it was because she always made him put on his best jeans and shirt for church.

Gage wasn’t dressed for church, either. His jeans were faded and ripped at the knees. His boots were covered in mud. He obviously hadn’t shaved in a couple of days.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gage shot back at Layla, probably because of the once-over she’d given him. “We’re going to church, and this is how we’re going. Besides, I’m about ready to sit down.”

“So church is a good place to get warm and put your leg up?”

He laughed, a rich, velvety laugh. “You said it. And I’m driving.”

“We’re not going to church together.” Layla found herself walking next to him, and even feeling a little bit sorry for him because he walked slower than normal. When she glanced up, she saw his mouth tighten in pain.

“You’re riding with me. And after church, I’m pretty sure my mom will insist on you all coming over for lunch.”

“That should be a good reason for me to take my truck, so that you don’t get stuck with us at lunch.”

“Layla. Stop arguing for five minutes. Please?”

She stopped, because he looked as if he needed a break. When they reached his truck, he limped around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. Brandon climbed in the back without an argument. She wanted to be mad, but instead she felt a little jealous. After fighting with her brother the past couple of years about everything, he was suddenly compliant, and it had to do with Gage Cooper.

He had a way of bringing people to his side. She remembered back to high school, even in grade school. Gage had always had a crowd of friends. She’d seen him step between friends who were about to go at it, and somehow, with a few words and an easy smile, manage to settle things.

“You know this is going to start rumors, right?” she said as she reached for the seat belt while he got in behind the wheel.

“Oh, well.” He turned to the backseat and Brandon. “Is there a pair of boots back there?”

Brandon handed him a pair of boots, beautiful deep brown leather with perfect stitching. Gage took them with a grumbled thank-you. While the truck warmed up, he jerked off his mud-covered boots, grimacing as he pulled the shoe off his left leg. Layla started to tell him he didn’t need to fix fences, babysit her brother or drive them to church. He needed to slow down and get better.

But she let it go. If he worked off whatever he was going through, whatever he wanted to change in his life, he’d soon ride off into the sunset and leave her alone. Again. The sooner he was out of her life, the better she’d be.

She grabbed the mud-covered boots he’d taken off and handed them back to Brandon as Gage pulled on the other pair. He now looked like a cowboy who’d been riding range in his best boots. The image made her smile.

A few minutes later they were pulling into the parking lot of the Dawson Community Church. People turned to look at them. Layla resisted the urge to slump down in the seat.

“Are you trying to hide?” Gage pulled into a parking space. Killing the engine, he looked at her.

“I’m not.” She sat up straight.

“Yeah, you are. Worried about how it will look, you showing up to church with someone like me?”

She shook her head and reached for the door handle. Brandon was already out and headed across the parking lot. Layla watched him go, focusing on his retreating back and not the man sitting next to her, smelling of the outdoors, soap and ranch.

“Layla, I get that I’m the last person you want to be seen with.” He laughed a little. “Sometimes I’m the last person I want to be seen with. But you need a little help with your brother and with the farm. I know people have tried to help you over the years and you’ve said you could do it all yourself. Well, I’m not as willing to believe that as everyone else. Or maybe I’m just not as willing to be run off.”

“I’ve noticed.” She smiled and opened her door. “They’re ringing the bell.”

He wasn’t willing to be run off. Yeah, she got it. But she was counting on the fact that eventually he’d get bored. Or the lure of the road would pull him away.

As she walked across the parking lot to the pretty country church that she’d attended most of her life, she thought that maybe he wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to her. Brandon was in church this morning. He’d stayed home last night. And he’d talked about his plans for the week, about going to Cooper Creek Ranch after school and what he’d learned from Jackson Cooper about cattle.
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