Page 58 of Christmas with the Cowgirl
Miles Flint made her fly.
And the next two weeks flew by.They worked hard, side by side, day after day.And the nights…the nights were a gift she’d never expected to receive in her entire life.
The first week they spent almost isolated, seeing almost no one except the livestock, the couple of day hands who were just as busy, and her father.Her father who never blinked when Miles didn’t go home at night, just as he hadn’t blinked when he’d shown up with a duffel bag full of clothes and other necessities.
“Not even a question,” she said, amazed after the third night.
“Not on my end, either, even though Nic saw me packing that bag.”
That amazed her even more.And as if he’d read her expression—he really was darned good at that—he smiled and said quietly, “She said they’re all rooting for us.”
So am I.
She’d finally had to admit it Friday night as she lay, delightfully exhausted, in his arms.Had to admit that she wanted this to go on forever.Even though she couldn’t see how it could.His life was somewhere else, hers was here, and while long distance was a lot easier than it once was, with video calls and texts, that couldn’t replace nights like last night.
“So,” he asked, cuddling her even closer, “now that everybody that matters knows…are we going public?”
Her mouth twisted wryly.Then she remembered he came from a place where relationships were often hidden.Often, she suspected, so there could be a big paparazzi gathering when they did, as he’d said, go public.
“Do you really think the Last Stand grapevine isn’t already buzzing?”she asked.
“I’m sure it is,” he said.“I’ve learned not to underestimate it.But are we going to prove the buzz is true?”
She propped herself up on one elbow.“Would you rather not?”
He drew back slightly.“I’d rather carry a sign proving it.”
“Or call the media?”
He frowned.“Is that what you think?”
She sighed.“No.Not really.It’s only that sometimes where you’re from, what you do and deal with, seems overwhelming.”
“But we’re in Last Stand now.And if it’s going to get out, I’d rather it be here, first.Because it wouldn’t have happened if not for this place.”
And with that tribute to her home, he melted away all her reservations.“In that case, Mr.Flint, I think we need to hit the Christmas market this weekend.That’ll do it.”
He laughed, pulled her close again, and she spent the next half hour thanking him in a very personal way for what he’d said about this place she loved.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Two things quicklybecame clear to Miles as they wandered the Christmas Marketplace set up in the park, the plaza with the town’s tree, and along Main Street.One, that they’d set the infamous grapevine on fire by walking around holding hands, and two, that this town was as amazing as Riley had said it was.
Jackson had said from day one he’d found something here he’d seen nowhere else, and while he’d believed his friend, he’d never expected to feel that way himself.But now, seeing the people greeting each other, the camaraderie, the welcoming even to strangers, the spirit of the place, was something he’d never experienced before.And Riley insisted it wasn’t just the season, or that they were here selling literally everything from nuts to boots, that this was simply what Last Stand was.
They were even accepting of him, although he suspected Riley was responsible for that.She clearly held an exalted position in this town.He had a sudden vision of when the day came that Maggie Rafferty wanted to hand over the tree-lighting switch, she handed it off to Riley, who would handle it with grace and aplomb.
And will you be there to cheer her on?
He realized, not in surprise but in acknowledgment of something that was starting to feel inevitable, that he not only wanted to be, but that some part of his brain was already figuring out how to make it work.
As they walked he marveled at some of the things offered here, from freshly prepared foods of all sorts, to handcrafted gifts—including a few incredibly detailed and beautiful pieces of leatherwork from Rylan Rafferty, son of the man who had unknowingly started all this—to more utilitarian things, and topped off with offerings of a wonderful hot chocolate concoction that he guessed was what she’d served Jeremy that day that seemed long ago now.And it still made him smile that it came from the saloon, of all places.
He and Jackson had long ago sworn off worrying about exchanging gifts, deciding to focus instead on Jeremy.And he thought the beautifully carved figurine of a golden retriever that looked exactly like Maverick would be a good one for that, and Riley agreed.
He was just finishing up that purchase when it hit him that he should get her something.He had no idea what.She’d never expressed any desire for anything people would normally think of—at least in his world—as a Christmas gift.Not clothes, not shoes, not a trip here, there, or anywhere.But as difficult as he’d been told ranching was these days, maybe she didn’t express the desires because they were out of the question financially anyway.
And it hit him then that maybe, just maybe that idea that had been careening around in his brain could be the best gift of all.
