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Authors: Charissa Stastny

Between Hope & the Highway (32 page)

BOOK: Between Hope & the Highway
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Benny bounced on his feet. I’d kind of hoped to be left alone so I could crash for the night, but it didn’t look like that would happen.

“Want to come in and talk?”

His grin turned mischievous, reminding me of his brother. “I’d love to.”

I gestured him into my room, but he shook his head.

“Ladies first.”

I entered, but stopped when I noticed a coat rack blocking the path next to my walk-in closet. A burgundy coat hung from a peg with a big card and bow attached to it.

“Ben, do you know anything about this?”

He ducked his head. “Open it.”

I pulled the large envelope off, noticing that the rungs of the rack were shaped like tree branches. A glittery pear hung from one of the pegs. Extracting the card, I read its message.

 

On the first day of Christmas,

Please accept from me

A Patagonia in a pear tree.

--Your True Love (Kermie)

 

My eyes widened as I set down the card and touched the sleek jacket. The tag revealed it to be a Patagonia ultralight down hoodie. I squeezed the soft material.

“Try it on,” Ben said.

“This can’t be for me.”

“It’s in your room. Come on. I want to see it on you.”

As I donned the beautiful jacket, I marveled at its light weight. But what was Rawson thinking? “I don’t have money to buy your brother a gift like this.”

Ben made a goofy face. “He didn’t do this so you would give him something back. He did it just ’cause he likes you.”

I stared into the mirror, not knowing quite what to think.

“He’s worked his butt off so he could do something nice for you. Even Dad’s been impressed. I heard him say so to Abe yesterday.”

I knew that too. This morning I’d put on my big girl panties and asked Bart if he could reassign Rawson back to me. I’d become alarmingly behind with only Chance to help out. But he denied my request, saying his son was doing an excellent job with the cattle, and that he’d hired the guy I met on my flight back at Thanksgiving to work with me. He would start next week.

I paced in front of my bed. “I can’t accept this.”

Big tears welled up in his eyes. “Rawson’s put a lot of thought into this. Don’t throw it back in his face.”

As I sank onto my comforter, Ben wrapped an arm around me.

“He just wanted to show you how he feels.”

I bit my lip as I studied the puffy texture of the jacket. “Did he pick it out himself?”

“Yeah. I took screen shots of all the jackets on the site and texted them to him. He doesn’t have reliable internet at the cattle house. He said this one screamed your name.”

“And who’s the mastermind behind this idea? Did you come up with Patagonia in a pear tree?”

“I wish. It’s clever, huh? Rawson wanted you to have a warmer coat for winter and thought Patagonia was a whole lot more practical than a partridge.” He grinned. “The coat rack is Mom’s, so I’ll need it back, but I found the pear in her craft room. I bet she won’t miss that.”

I swiped at my eyes.

“Are you upset?”

I shook my head. “This is so nice. Thanks, Ben.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank your true love…or Kermie, Mustache, Bubble Gum, or whatever code word you have for him.”

I laughed and gave into the urge to tousle his hair. “You’re as crazy as your brother.”

After Benny left, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to the man who made me feel more emotions in ten minutes than I’d felt in my whole life.

 

Me
: Patagonia in a pear tree. Very clever.

 

Rawson:
Miss Piggy beauty tip #2: Never let your frog outdress you.

 

I laughed into my hand, but then frowned.
You shouldn’t have spent so much money.

 

Rawson:
What would be the fun in that?

 

Me
: Seriously, this is way too expensive. Don’t waste your money on me.

 

Rawson:
Don’t tell me what to do. Kirk out.

 

I stared at his response. Was he mad? Frustrated? Tired? I sent one last message to determine his mood.
Were you out in the storm?

 

Rawson:
Kirk in again. Yes, I was. Stupid cows have to be fed.

 

Me:
You must be freezing.

 

Rawson:
I have a good coat. So do you now. If you want to join me breaking ice on ponds and throwing straw out for the cattle, just say the word.

 

Me:
No thank you
.

 

Rawson:
Chicken.

 

Me
: Cluck cluck

 

Rawson:
Smart chick

 

Me:
I’ll pray the storm ends soon.

 

Rawson:
Sweet chick

 

Me:
Night, Stash.

 

Rawson: Ni
ght Hot chick

 

Shaking my head, I curled into my pillow and hugged his down coat to my chest. I couldn’t wait to wear it. No longer would I have to wear three sweatshirts underneath my bedraggled jean jacket. Now I’d look better than my frog. I closed my eyes and snickered. For such a dumb guy, he made me laugh a lot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 54

Bentley

Lizzie’s barking laughter filled the room and made me grin. I only wished Rawson could be here to enjoy it with me. It seemed unfair that he’d put so much of himself into each of these gifts, yet couldn’t be here to see her reaction. Liz had been blown away by each new present…and sometimes disgruntled when they were pricey. But Rawson wanted things perfect—and once he figured out what each gift would be, he couldn’t be swayed. He told me to spare no expense and to pay for overnight shipping on everything he had me order.

“This is incredible!”

I grinned as she studied the canvas I’d painted to resemble cows and milk maids. Her true love, who was named Stash on today’s card, had given her eight maids a milking. Rawson had brought a few gifts back from town, and among them had been eight candy Cow Tales. He asked me to paint a picture of the rest and to attach the candy in the proper places. It took me a whole night, but I thought the painting had turned out sweet.

“This is my favorite so far. Thanks, Ben.”

“Stash commissioned it for you.”

She laughed. “I know.”

This had to be the cheapest gift so far, since Cow Tales cost a quarter and I’d refused to let Rawson pay me for my contribution.

“No dawg. I’m your brother,” I told him when he tried to hand me two hundred dollar bills to pay for my time.

“I know, but this is crazy good. I’d be a lowlife scum if I didn’t pay you.”

“Keep it. If you want to get me something, I could use new paints. I’ll make a list of colors I need.”

He accepted that compromise.

As I watched Lizzie’s excitement, I couldn’t help thinking about the rest of the week’s gifts. Sunday she received two turtle doves, which consisted of a box of chocolate turtles and a bag of Dove dark chocolates. Monday he gave her three French pens…and I do mean authentic French pens. They cost $99 before shipping. On Tuesday, she received four calling cards. She almost had a stroke on Wednesday when she found five gold strings lying on her dresser—a set of gold chains from Miller’s Jewelers in Bozeman. Thursday was six geese a laying—a bunch of stylish goose down pillows for her bed. And yesterday’s surprise was a salt water aquarium with seven fish a swimming. My favorite was the eel I’d picked out. Yet today’s two dollar gift made her squeal the loudest. I think the fact that it was homemade and cheap made her super happy.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it!” She wrapped me in a hug.

I glanced at the open suitcase on her bed. “You need help packing?” She was flying out tonight for Christmas break.

She shook her head. “I’m almost done.”

“I’ll miss you.”

She tousled my hair, an annoying habit she’d fallen into after watching my brother do it to me. “I’ll miss you too, Ben. Too bad I can’t stuff you in my luggage and take you with me. Maybe you could get my mom off my back so she doesn’t set me up on blind dates.”

“She makes you date blind people?”

Lizzie seal-barked, making me lose it. When we gained control of our laughing boxes, I hugged her goodbye and told her to think of me when she dated her blind men. That set us both off again, and I had to leave her room clutching my side.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 55

Liz

Christmas Eve had been a festive occasion at my sister’s home. Her two darling girls, Krista and Katie, reenacted the Nativity as Mom took pictures and fussed over their costumes. Holidays were grand affairs for Eileen Ruthersford. She lived and prepared for them for months. Since it kept her from nagging me, I loved them as well.

Refreshments had been placed in my charge. I’d made homemade eclairs and a gorgeous vegetable tray in the shape of a Christmas tree. Mom had wrinkled her nose at it, but I thought it possessed creative flair. Benny would’ve loved it…Rawson too.

I leaned back into my pillows and closed my eyes. Each of that clever cowboy’s unique gifts had chipped another hole in the protective walls of my heart. His witty texts pushed the rest of the rubble out of the way. When I flew home, I figured his gifts would end. He’d already spent a small fortune; no one could fault him for stopping at eight instead of twelve. But the gifts continued.

My first night home I received a delivery from a harried-looking UPS man. Inside had been a card saying my true love had given me nine stars a dancing. The package contained seven seasons of
Dancing with the Stars
and two other videos—
Dirty Dancing
and
Singing in the Rain.
He’d signed the card from Bubble Gum, making me laugh.

The next day I received another delivery from the same exhausted-looking man. This package contained ten lords a leaping, consisting of all three
Lord of the Ring
movies,
Lord of the Flies,
and six racy romance novels with
Lord
in the title. The covers made me blush, so I hid them in the bottom of my laundry basket
.
He’d signed that gift from Lord Cootie Catcher.

Day eleven brought poppers popping—eleven bags of Pop Rocks. His ingenious gifts left me wondering why he spent all his money on me. I was just plain Lizzie. He was handsome-as-heck Rawson Law. He could be on the cover of one of those steamy romance novels he’d given me, while I was pretty much invisible.

A ruckus outside made me roll off my bed. “What in the world?” I muttered as I lifted the slats of my blinds.

Flames danced on my front lawn.

“Elizabeth!” Mom yelled from downstairs.

Hurrying down, I ran into Daddy.

“Come outside,” he said with a huge grin. “This is amazing.”

He led me out behind Mom. “Who is this secret admirer of yours?” she asked.

“Just a friend.”

She huffed at my generic answer, but it was true. Rawson was a friend who apparently didn’t mind spending an exorbitant amount of money on me.

I stopped as my eyes adjusted to the dark. Twelve shirtless Polynesian men in grass skirts formed a half circle around us. Tiki torches illuminated their muscular frames. One of them chanted, and in unison they began beating an island Christmas rhythm on their drums. I clapped as I put Rawson’s last gift together in my head. Twelve drummers drumming.

The Polynesian group danced and did syncopated drum numbers as our neighbors all crept out to watch their top-notch performance. After they left, I deflected my parents’ questions about my admirer. Pleading exhaustion, I hugged Dad and went to my bedroom to be alone with my thoughts.

Stopping in front of my full length mirror, I wondered again what Rawson saw in me. I was tall and thin, not curvy. My hair was obnoxiously curly, and since I knew he hated it in a ponytail or bun, I usually sported those just to spite him. I didn’t wear much makeup. My clothes were usually dusty and worn. My hair was dirty blond…my eyes a boring brown. There was absolutely nothing special about me. So why did he try so hard to impress me? Was it because I was hard to get?

I knocked my head with my hand. “Duh.”

Rawson Law was used to getting what he wanted, so when he dangled a carrot before me and I didn’t bite, I suddenly became a challenge his ego must knock down.

My phone dinged with a text. I glanced at my clock to see that it was midnight.

 

Rawson:
On this real day of Christmas, I wanted to wish you goodnight. We all miss you here, but me most. Dream of Santa and pistachio ice cream. I’ll dream of pralines and cream. -Your true love ReBeL

BOOK: Between Hope & the Highway
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