A Christmas Wedding For The Cowboy. Mary Leo
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if it’s sittin’ in your heart the way it should.”
Carson knew he hadn’t felt the same for Marilyn Rose for a long time, but he’d made excuses for it. Nothing seemed right since he’d had to step away from rodeo life. Not only had he been busy second-guessing his relationship with his fiancée, but he’d speculated on what life would be like if he never went back into an arena, never went back to rodeo. If he worked the family ranch instead. Maybe he’d had enough of saddle bronc riding, of torturing his body, of never being home more than a few weeks at a time. Maybe he needed a change. That simple thought had sent his ego spiraling downward.
If he wasn’t a bronc rider, who was he?
“My heart’s heavy right now, Sal. I don’t know what I want or who I love.”
“Only one person you gotta love. It’s the only way you can pull yourself outta that there barrel.”
The blower sputtered again and Sal banged on it several times. This time, it hesitated, coughed and blew out a red bow from one of the many Christmas decorations on the front lawns and lining some of the walkways. The Christmas season had arrived on Howdy Street and everyone had taken the time to string lights, put up trees and wreaths, and with so much snow had created elaborate snowmen on their front lawns... Everyone except Carson. Now the chances of him celebrating the holiday with even one holly twig seemed remote.
“I already love you, Sal. Heck, I don’t need to love anyone else,” he teased as he draped his good arm around Sal’s shoulders and pulled him in closer for a moment, almost knocking both of them to the ground. Despite Sal’s height, at least six feet, he was as fragile as a bird and couldn’t weigh more than a grasshopper. His winter clothes engulfed him as if he’d shrunk down a few sizes, and his rubber boots rode his spindly legs like hoops around a stick.
“Thanks, but I’m not talkin’ about you lovin’ me. I got a whole brood of family who love me more than I can keep track of. I’m talkin’ about you lovin’ yer’self, son. Seems you forgot how. I know it’s not somthin’ a cowboy thinks about, but it’s somthin’ that either comes naturally or it’s somethin’ you gotta wrangle. You remind me of a sapling. Time to tie you to a stick to keep you upright or you’re gonna fall over and die.”
Carson chuckled at the old man’s analogy. He knew dang well that men from Sal’s generation acted mostly on reason, grit and lust. Where Sal got this whole notion of loving himself was beyond what Carson could grasp. It seemed almost as if Sal’s open-minded tolerance was tangled up in an older person’s body, and his thoughts poured out in a cowboy dialect that reminded Carson of all the old-timers he’d met on the road.
“I’ll take that under advisement, Sal. Thanks for the kick.”
“Whatever I can do,” he said, then he whacked the snowblower with his stick a couple times as they continued up the sidewalk.
* * *
EVENTUALLY CARSON GRANT showed up in Zoe’s small office located inside All About A Bride, a bridal shop owned by Greta Green, distant cousin to Milo Gump, who owned Spud Drive-In, and Belly Up Tavern. He looked like his normal self—incredibly handsome and ready to win his next buckle...kind of. So maybe he still had a limp, used a cane and couldn’t seem to lift his left arm without wincing. Zoe was sure the man was itching to get back in that bronc saddle and make the people of Briggs, Idaho, proud.
“I thought your fiancée would be with you today,” Zoe commented as he took a seat in the empty black chair next to her. He wore a dark blue shirt, a black tie, a dark blue suit coat, jeans and black Western boots. By his somewhat formal attire, Zoe concluded he took wedding planning seriously. It wasn’t what she expected, given he’d been absent for the majority of previous meetings.
They sat in front of a round glass coffee table loaded down with binders that contained swatches of fabric, vendor business cards and photos of past weddings. Her laptop was open to Carson’s account with a depiction of what he and his fiancée had already agreed upon. They wanted a country wedding, complete with a country DJ who would play some of the older hits.
“Something came up,” he said, shifting his eyes away from hers just as Piper walked into the room. Though Piper was Zoe’s opposite in almost every aspect, when it came to the love of a beautiful wedding and business acumen, they were in total agreement. Everything else about Piper, Zoe had learned to accept. Well, everything except Piper’s lack of any kind of thought filter. If something bounced around in her head, she usually had no qualms with dumping it on anyone who happened to be within earshot. Zoe had asked her a thousand times to please lock those thoughts away until a more agreeable moment, but most often Piper simply couldn’t control herself.
“I heard Marilyn Rose was in town last night but left in a hurry,” Piper said, causing Zoe to cringe. Apparently, this was one of those uncontrollable times. “Everything okay with you and your sweetie pie?” Piper asked as she took the seat next to Carson, the seat that was designated for his fiancée.
Except for her cowgirl black boots, Piper was dressed entirely in black Goth today, complete with lacy long sleeves on her silky blouse, which she wore under her black lace-up corset. “Zoe and I don’t want to be putting out all this effort, and spending all your hard-earned money, if you two are on the skids. When I was buying my morning muffin and coffee over at Holy Rollers, Amanda Gump told me she saw you storm out of Sammy’s Smokehouse last night well before your fiancée. She said you walked home in the snow, alone. Is there anything to that lonely, cold walk you want to share with us?”
Zoe held her breath and waited for Carson’s answer, her heart beating madly. If he cancelled now, Zoe wouldn’t be able to pay the rent on their office. Greta was already charging them half of what the space was worth, but she’d certainly draw the line if they stopped paying altogether, especially right before Christmas. Then there was always the storage facility they kept outside of town that held all their merchandise and supplies like folding chairs and tables, silk flowers, various types of vases, paper umbrellas and a myriad of decorations their clients could rent for a fraction of the cost of buying from local retailers.
“I’m sure Carson wouldn’t be sitting here if something that unfortunate had happened. He would’ve told me straight-out when I knocked on his door earlier to remind him of our meeting.” Zoe felt hopeful. Logic told her she was right and everyone else was merely jumping to their usual negative conclusions.
Piper donned a sly grin. “Oh, I don’t know. Guys don’t generally like to admit romantic defeat.” She turned back to Carson and waited for his answer.
He hesitated for what seemed like minutes, causing Zoe’s stomach to sour from all the healthy green juice she’d consumed earlier that morning. Then he leaned forward in his chair, clasped his hands together, resting them on his injured thigh, and said, “I’m going to ignore that bit of town gossip and get on with my wedding plans.”
Zoe instantly let out the breath she’d been holding, while Piper rattled on about whether or not to have red or white poinsettias in the church, as if everything she’d just insinuated had never left her lips.
“Personally, I think either one would do,” Carson said, looking a bit overwhelmed.
Piper pushed on. “Maybe we should wait on this meeting until your fiancée returns. After all, we’ll be deciding the details of seating arrangements, and any last-minute changes to the itinerary, and—”
“She left me in charge...for now anyway,” Carson said, cutting her off. “Marilyn Rose isn’t one for a lot of fuss. And since she, um...didn’t really want a fancy wedding in the first place, and only agreed to it because of my family, I get the honor of choosing all the last-minute details while she’s off winning the Nationals in Vegas. My sister Kayla can help if it comes to that.”
“No, that’s fine,” Zoe said, probably faster than she’d meant to, but having Kayla decide anything would be worse than if he simply called the whole thing off. The woman’s indecision on her own scuttled wedding had not only cost Zoe money and time, but had given her chronic heartburn, which she had only recently