Page 34 of The Cowboy's Christmas Baby
The little church, with its stained-glass windows and white clapboard, had to be the prettiest in Montana. He’d been curious about it and its history ever since learning Tate had a soft spot for it.
He found her inside, huddled in the far end of a pew next to the wall, all alone and looking miserable, which made him feel guilty as hell. No, he hadn’t handled this morning at all well, as his dad had pointed out.
The church was as pretty on the inside as he’d expected, especially with the tree at the front of the sanctuary and the colored lights from the stained-glass windows streaming around it.
The wooden floor creaked under his weight, although the faded runner between the pews that led to the pulpit deadened his footsteps. He eased onto the wooden plank seat and shuffled across until his hip connected with hers. He dropped an arm around her shoulders, encouraged when she didn’t push him away. The best thing about her was that she didn’t play games. On the flip side, she was terrible at expressing her feelings. They generally exploded in ways that made Santa flinch.
“Want to talk about this morning?” he asked.
“In a church? What are you, a heathen?”
This was the Tate he’d come to admire. “Alrighty, then. Want to hear how my dad read me the riot act and told me to grow up and act like a man?”
“Maybe some other time.”
The possibility struck him that he might not be the most important thing going on in her life. “Then may I ask why you’re sitting all alone in a church?”
“It’s peaceful in here. I drove to Billings this morning.”
He didn’t see the connection. “I’ve been to Billings. It isn’t that bad. You didn’t knock over a liquor store, did you?”
“Worse. I killed somebody.”
She said it so seriously that he had a moment of gut-pinching fear. He couldn’t see her deliberately murdering anyone, but considering her track record, accidental homicide wasn’t a stretch. “This, I’ve got to hear.”
“I wanted to do something for Tanner for Christmas. He’d bought his girlfriend a present last year, and it’s been sitting in this big box in my closet. I thought I’d give it to her for him. Something for her to remember him by.” Tate pulled a small velvet box from her purse and showed it to Miles. “I had no idea this was what it was. It didn’t go over especially well. It turns out she’d planned to break up with him.” She returned the box to her purse. “I probably should have baked her cookies or something.”
Miles was in Tate’s corner on this one. Dana could have said thank you for the kind thought and left it at that. She didn’t have to dump more grief on Tate.
He made a mental note to never propose to her on a special occasion. “Let’s get to the dead body,” he said. “I take it you killed her for being ungrateful. Do I need to find us a shovel?”
“It’s too late for that.” Tate laced her fingers together and rested her hands in her lap. “The morning he died, Tanner told me he was done with bull riding and planned to withdraw from his event. I reminded him that our parents had loaned him a lot of money to get started, that he’d had a lousy season, and the prize money was good.”
Poor Tate. What an unfortunate memory to live with.
“And because of that you think it’syourfault he was killed? Sweetheart, let me explain something to you. In those few seconds before the chute opens, a rider has decisions to make—does it feel right? Is your head in the right place? Is this your ride? There are plenty of eyes on you, checking to make sure you’re okay. They’re checking the bull, too, to see what kind of temper he’s in. No one wants to see a rider get hurt.”
“Tanner only got into the sport because of me.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Freda McKillop had said Tate was the one who’d wanted to ride, but that didn’t mean Tanner had no interest in it. “No one gets on a bull if they don’t enjoy the thrill of the ride.”
“It’s true. I couldn’t find anyone willing to train me, especially after Ford stuck his nose in, so Tanner offered to give it a try if I switched to barrel racing instead.”
And as a result, neither one of them had ended up participating in a sport they’d loved, meaning while they’d both been above average, neither had shone. It also explained why she’d walked away from barrel racing so easily—and why her brother had been willing to quit bull riding for a woman.
Miles couldn’t have done it. Not in his twenties and not for that reason. But he was glad that her brother had stepped in to divert her, because even though he had nothing against women riders, they had a far tougher go of it in competition than men.
“I don’t believe your brother stuck with riding as a favor to you,” he said. “I got to the top of the sport because I wanted it so bad, I couldn’t imagine not doing whatever it took to get me there. I worked hard and I paid attention. And once I got there, I worked even harder, and paid more attention, because there’s always someone younger and hungrier right on your heels. Your brother had a respectable amount of success, meaning he’d expended some effort on the sport, too. But there reaches a point where either your mind or your body can’t take those eight seconds anymore. If you’re paying proper attention, you see it coming. Trust me, Tanner didn’t wake up one morning and make a sudden decision. He would have been thinking about it.”
If he’d made a snap decision not to ride on that day, then his girlfriend was more likely behind it—except Miles saw no reason to say so and cause further discord between the two women. It was pure conjecture and too late for that.
“I should have listened to Maybe and not taken that gift to Billings,” Tate said. “My only talent seems to be an ability to take any situation and make it worse.”
“Your talent is blameless. There was nothing you could do to make this situation worse. Or better, for that matter. And I have got to meet this Maybe, by the way. She sounds like she has more than meanness and a great sense of fashion going for her.”
Now that they’d talked through why Tate was sitting in church all alone, she finally remembered she was angry with him. The irritated side-eye she gave him confirmed it—as if there’d been any doubt.
“I’m not introducing you to my friends,” she said.
