Page 19 of Cowboy Stolen Kiss for Christmas

Keeping his head down, Ames reached the end of the second row of booths and rounded the corner to examine what was being sold on the third line. Though he’d passed by a few dozen booths already, he’d yet to reach the one he was looking for.

According to the trifold map of the event he’d been handed at the entrance doors, Brex Morrison’s booth should’ve been in the children’s products section at station ninety-six. For this reason, Ames has been browsing his way through the craft fair in reverse order. Station ninety-six, however, was hosting a finger painting station — not Brex’s heirloom toys.

He silently counted off the number signs posted in front of each booth. Fifty-six, fifty-five, fifty-four… At station fifty-two, he entered a section displaying handmade toiletries. Candles flickered, and the scent of newly cut bars of soaps and hand lotions filled the air. It was an eclectic mix of smells. Not bad, actually. Still no Brex Morrison, though.

The jewelry booths were next.

Wow! Ames shoved his hands deeper in the pockets of his jeans, stifling a low whistle at the glitter of gems catching the morning sunlight. There were diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and amethysts.

And Brex.

He was manning a booth right in the middle of it all.

Ames slowed his steps to a shuffle, sweeping the contents of Brex’s table from beneath the brim of his Stetson. It was odd seeing a toy booth in the middle of a bunch of jewelry booths. Not that there was any law against it.

What he saw on display at Brex’s table brought him to a halt. The wooden snowmen nutcrackers scattered across a sheet of white Poly-fil definitely qualified as heirloom toys. Other than the fact that they were snowmen, they were eerily similar to the festive Santas Laura had designed for the Merry Woodmakers’ line of nutcrackers.

Ames had stood inside the back of Santa’s Toy Factory enough times, watching her parents through the glass as they painstakingly carved, painted, and glued the exquisite creatures together.

Like Laura’s festive Santas, Brex’s snowmen bore custom hats, gloves, and other accessories. Ames froze at the sight of a tiny rabbit perched on the tree stick arm of one of the snowmen. It looked like an exact replica of one of the miniature rabbits he’d recently witnessed Ayaka Lee gluing onto one of their festive Santas.

He took a step closer to the table, finally realizing how Brex had managed to get his booth moved to the jewelry section of the craft fair. The squatty lower half of his snowmen nutcrackers held an additional detail. The lowest of their three buttons doubled as a pull-down handle, revealing a hidden compartment. The space could be used to hide valuables — small ones like wedding rings, earrings, brooches, or bracelets. The one on display was open, revealing a diamond ring resting inside it.

“Hey! Didn’t I see you at the Peppermint Palace the other day?” Brex Morrison’s voice wafted his way, making Ames realize it would be impossible to avoid an encounter. Part of him was glad. He wanted to look the guy in the eye and peel back the layers of what he was up to.

He took his time raising his head, pretending to glance around him in an effort to locate the owner of the voice. Finally swiveling in Brex’s direction, he exclaimed, “Oh, hi. Yeah, I remember seeing you there. You’re Laura’s friend, aren’t you?”

Brex’s swarthy features were unsmiling. “I was going to ask you the same thing.” He stretched out one hand airily. “Friend?” He stretched out the other hand. “Or taxi driver?”

Ames was mildly amused by the toy maker’s attempt to get under his skin. However, he’d pumped so much adrenaline from the backs of so many spirited broncos that it was no longer easy to get him riled up. He’d taken falls, hits, and kicks. He’d broken plenty of bones. Learning how to keep a cool head through it all, time after time, was what had allowed him to live to see another day.

“Both, I guess.” He boldly held the man’s gaze. “I’m whatever Laura needs me to be.” He had no problem letting Brex Morrison know he was her biggest ally. If the guy was up to no good, maybe it would give him second thoughts before trying anything stupid.

He was dressed in full gypsy mode again today, with lots of rings, beads, scarves, and layers. At close range, Ames was pretty sure the guy’s carefully tousled hair was held in place by hairspray. What a fraud! He could call himself a gypsy all he wanted, but he was a little too GQ perfect about the details to come across as authentic.

The craftsman cocked his head to study Ames slyly. “Don’t bother getting your hopes up in her direction, bronc rider. She’s not going to leave her family. Not for you, me, or anyone else. So unless you plan on relocating permanently to this remote speck of a town…” He shrugged and dropped his hands.

Apparently, Brex had done his homework. It sounded like he knew what the Carson brothers did for a living. Interesting. It would be even more interesting to find out whether he’d done his homework on them before or after his arrival to Pinetop.

“Haven’t decided,” Ames drawled. It was the truth. “It all depends on what the Lord has in store for me and my family.” He pointed upward. “We lean towards letting Him call the shots.” That was the strategy that had gotten them through the loss of their parents, as well as the partial amputation of Nash’s right arm. They always discussed things first as a family, prayed for direction, then made their decisions together.

They’d come up with this strategy after hearing a sermon about the fourth chapter of Ecclesiastes.

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up…

Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

Ames and his brothers had decided years ago that the three of them were stronger together than apart. They’d joined the rodeo circuit together and made a name for themselves as bronc riding champions. After packing away enough winning pots and buckles, they’d subsequently purchased Canyon Creek Ranch together. And after Nash’s injury, they’d transferred to Castellano’s indoor rodeo together. Being a team worked for them. He didn’t see that changing anytime soon.

Brex made a disparaging sound. “Ah. You’re one of those.” His tone indicated that he thought Ames was some crazy religious fanatic, the kind with less than all of his brain cells intact.

Ames regarded him sagely. “Nah, I just like to keep things simple.” He moved his hands in imitation of what Brex had done to him earlier. “You know…right or wrong. Honest or dishonest. Faithful or unfaithful.” He paused to let that last point sink in.

Brex’s face turned a mottled red. “If you know Laura at all, then you’re already aware of the fact that she’s a complicated woman. Naturally, our relationship is complicated.”

Ames didn’t see her that way at all. She’d been hurt, and that hurt had made her cautious. It was as simple as that. He didn’t see any reason to argue the matter further with her ex-fiancé, though. He’d already made his point. The guy had blown it with Laura. On some level, he had to know that. If he truly intended to talk her into giving him a second chance, he had an uphill battle ahead. A very steep, very rocky one that wasn’t likely to lead where he hoped it would.

“Good talk.” Ames glanced pointedly down at the snowmen nutcrackers that Laura had so adamantly insisted were knock-offs of her family’s products. “I’ll be sure to let her know I ran into you. No doubt she’ll want to come take a look at your snowmen for old-time’s sake.”

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