Her Cowboy Till Christmas

“You think we’re...” Ryder pointed to Brittany and back to himself. “Sorry if we gave you that impression. We aren’t... It’s not... Well, I recently went through a difficult divorce, and I have three-year-old twin daughters to raise. I don’t see myself dating anytime soon. Maybe ever.”

Why relief sank into his limbs, he wouldn’t examine. Another thing they had in common. Mason didn’t see himself ever dating again, either. He’d had the love of his life. You only got that once.

He studied Ryder more closely. The resemblance was too much to take, kind of like staring into the sun. If this man was his twin—and there seemed to be no other reasonable explanation—his childhood had been built on a lie.

“Mason, I realize this is hard to accept, but I hope you’ll get used to the idea. I mean, you have a brother. How cool is that?” Brittany’s soft tone irritated him. As did the way she was trying to soothe him.

“You have no right to come in here and act like old times.”

“Old times? I’m not... Aren’t you the teensiest bit happy you have a brother?” Her face paled as she shook her head in disgust. “What happened to you?”

He closed his eyes briefly. What had happened to him?

The woman he’d cherished—the mother of his precious son—had died of cancer. That’s what had happened.

And three years later, he still hadn’t figured out how to move on.

“I can see this was a huge mistake.” The legs of the chair scraped against the floor as Brittany rose to stand. Mason acted like she’d happily skipped up here in some warped attempt to see him suffer. The last place she wanted to be was Rendezvous. Santa Ana was her home. She had people—mostly dance students—who genuinely liked her, who didn’t look at her like she was a scab they’d picked off an old wound. “I’m sorry for putting you through this, Ryder.”

She glanced at Mason to catch his reaction. The vein in his forehead throbbed.

Good.

She’d tried to call him. Emailed him again and again.

“Don’t be. I asked you to come.” The planes of Ryder’s face were as sharp as his voice. He turned to Mason. “I figured she’d provide a buffer, introduce us. Maybe this was a mistake. I’ve always wanted a brother, but...”

Brittany could have filled in the rest. Not if the brother is you, you big jerk.

Since Ryder made no movement to leave, she stood behind her chair. The kitchen had changed since she’d last been here. She’d been eighteen then, and Mason’s grandparents had still been alive. Since then, the oak cabinets had been painted white, new countertops gleamed and hardwood floors had replaced the cracked linoleum. The farmhouse charm was still there. Too bad it was the only charm left—Mason certainly had none.

The brothers were engaged in a charged stare-off. The tension made her rise on her tiptoes as they really studied each other for the first time. A look of wonder accompanied Mason’s quick intake of breath. Finally. She slipped back into her seat. They’d been here for ten minutes, and it had taken Mason all ten to acknowledge reality.

“When is your birthday?” he asked Ryder.

“February 1.” He leaned back, wariness in his eyes. “I was born in Colorado Springs. Raised in Billings, Montana.”

Mason looked green.

Brittany resisted the urge to smirk. Did he really think she’d have come all this way if Ryder wasn’t the real thing?

Ryder tapped his fingernails on the table. “My parents were John and Lisa Fanning. Died in a head-on collision when I was a week old.”

Mason flicked her a glance, and she could see his doubts disappearing. If she knew him at all, she’d say he wasn’t quite ready to accept Ryder’s word yet.

“Brittany could have told you all that.” The bravado in Mason’s voice was all bluff, and she could have called him out on it, but she stayed silent. This wasn’t her battle. She had enough of those of her own right now.

“She could have, but she didn’t,” Ryder said. “Let’s cut to the chase. We have the same parents, were born on the same day and in the same hospital. We look alike. I’m sure we have a lot of other things in common, too.”

“Okay, so we’re brothers.” Mason ran his fingers through his hair. “Twins. Identical, clearly. How did we get separated?”

Ryder shrugged. “I wish I had the answer to that. My grandparents raised me, and they both died a while back. I don’t have any other family—well, that I know of. And in the two weeks since finding out you existed, I haven’t gotten up the nerve to dig into the whys.”

“I didn’t even know my other set of grandparents.”

“Bo and Shirley Gatlin could be overbearing sometimes, but I think they couldn’t handle the fact their daughter was gone. I hate to even tell you this, but they told me my other grandparents had died.”

“I was told the same.”

“Unbelievable,” Ryder muttered under his breath.

The ticking of the hall clock broke up the ensuing silence. Part of Brittany was relieved Mason had accepted Ryder was his twin. And part of her was still bristling over his rude reception.

“Look, I don’t know where to take this. What do you want from me?” Mason’s voice was gravelly.

“Want from you? Why would I want anything?” Ryder’s face twisted in confusion. “I don’t have any other family. Not anymore. I thought it would be great to have a brother. But maybe you don’t feel the same.”

Tension, thick and ripe, hung in the air. Brittany drew faint circles on the floor with the toe of her boot. What she wouldn’t give to interpret the mood through dance. She mentally tucked away the sensation to choreograph a lyrical number later.

“I don’t know what to think,” Mason said.

“I see.” Ryder stood, disappointment dripping off him like a hard rain. Brittany’s heart broke a little. He’d come all this way and she was responsible. He hitched his chin to Mason. “I’m staying at the Mountain View Inn until Sunday afternoon. If you’re interested in getting to know me, call me. If not, I guess this is goodbye.”

Brittany scrambled to her feet. This wasn’t how she’d pictured their meeting going. She wanted to talk sense into Mason, but his face said it all. The man had been born stubborn. He was allergic to change. Always had been.

But he’d also been reliable and trustworthy. Kind. A man of his word.

She opened her mouth to say something, to make it better, but what could she say? She barely knew him anymore. Ten years had changed him.

Ten years had changed her, too.

“Wait.” Mason’s voice softened. “I do want to get to know you. I’m just... This has been... Well, I think I need some time to process everything.”

Ryder took out his wallet and handed Mason a business card. “Here’s my cell number. Call me when you’re ready. We’ll figure out how to move forward.” Then he walked out of the kitchen and back down the hall toward the entry.

Brittany turned to Mason. “I tried to contact you. I didn’t come here to upset you.”

His lips were drawn together in a tight line, and his brown eyes were hard, as hard as she’d ever seen them. Ryder was already halfway down the hall, so she pivoted to follow him. A framed photograph of Mason with his arm around a beautiful brunette holding a small baby mocked Brittany on the way out. Their love for each other radiated from the photo.

Her chest tightened, and she forced her legs forward. She’d had that kind of love for a few short months. But she’d been immature, scared of her feelings and unwilling to consider a future she hadn’t planned out. Her dishonesty had cost her dearly.

The bottom line? She had always put her personal ambitions above love. She had then. She did now. Her relationships never lasted long, and she’d made peace with that.

Until she had her own dance studio, she wasn’t diverting her energy to a here-today-gone-tomorrow romance. Making a name for herself in dance had been her goal ever since she was a child, and sometimes it felt further away than ever. She’d already surrendered her dreams of becoming a professional dancer. But she could still help other girls realize their dreams...if a bank would approve a line of credit so she could lease her own studio space.

Ryder held the front door open, and she nodded her thanks. She would enjoy this long-overdue visit with Nan, return to Santa Ana after Christmas and, in the meantime, pray the bank would call with the good news that her line of credit had been approved. A spot in a strip mall would be vacant in January. She had enough cash to pay for some of the renovations, but it would take several months to attract enough students to cover all her expenses.

If the bank turned her down, she’d have to reinvent herself, because she couldn’t keep doing this anymore. Years of working odd jobs to pay off her student loans and save for the studio had taken their toll.