A bustling, thriving tourist trap tucked into the side of a mountain, Pinetop was chock full of gift boutiques. Across Arizona, they were known as the place to do one’s holiday shopping. On just about any given day, they had more visitors than permanent residents browsing through their stores. On snow days, most of the roads leading to bigger towns were closed until Pinetop’s tiny road crew could safely clear the way. Today was probably one of those days, which meant the streets and sidewalks would be jammed with traffic all evening.
Going for a sleigh ride was the perfect way for Ames to avoid the crowds and have Laura all to himself for a couple of hours. Since he was in the presence of a fellow black coffee enthusiast at the moment, he didn’t mind grumbling a little about the Gingerbread House behind their back.
“Apparently, those froo-froo drinks they make on the strip take half a century to brew.” He grimaced at the memory of getting schooled on how to properly froth hot milk. “I was worried I might be stuck there the rest of the night and miss our sleigh ride altogether.”
Mr. Billings guffawed. “Didn’t have you pegged as a froo-froo kinda cowboy.”
“Far from it, sir. I normally take my coffee black, same as you. The froo-froo stuff is for my friend, Laura.” Ames settled back against the pair of quilts Mr. Billings had tossed into the sleigh. There was another side bench across from the one he was sitting on. His goal was to use only one of them this evening.
“Your friend, eh?” Flash Billings swiveled his head around just long enough to wink at him. “I was wondering if this was your first date or something.”
“Or something.” Ames glanced across the snowy terrain. “She’s been through a lot. Not sure when she’ll be ready to date again.” He would continue to make it very clear to her this evening that he was available to fill that vacancy the moment she reached that point.
“So I’ve heard.” Mr. Billings gave him a speculative look from his peripheral vision. “If it comes down to a fight, my money’s on you, you loco bronc rider. I was as sorry as I could be to find out her ex had arrived in town this morning. Her parents aren’t sure what he’s got up his sleeve this time.”
Ames’ jaw dropped. For the second time in the space of a few minutes, he nearly spilled the coffee he was clutching in each gloved hand. “Did you say her ex is in town?” Since when? He cleared his throat, hoping he’d heard wrong even though he was pretty sure he hadn’t. Though his exact age was a bit of a mystery, Flash Billings was probably the oldest citizen in town. A guy who knew everything there was to know about everybody around him.
“Yup. Sorry for being the bearer of bad news. Figured you already knew.” The aging postmaster’s voice waxed sympathetic as he guided his team of horses around a copse of evergreens.
“Nope.” Ames angrily popped the P at the end of the word. His mind raced over all the possibilities of why Laura hadn’t told him. Was she happy to see her ex? Was she still hopeful of picking up where they’d left off?
Ames didn’t have all the details about their breakup. All he really knew was that her fiancé had broken things off only days before their wedding was supposed to have taken place.
“Believe me, his sudden appearance in town caught Laura’s parents off guard, too.” Flash Billings shook his head. “Ol’ Haruki Lee wasn’t sure how to break the news to her that Brex Morrison,” his voice turned mocking, “the last of the gypsies, had decided to grace our small town with his presence.” He raised a gloved hand to put air quotes around the words, the last of the gypsies.
Ames snorted. “The last of the who-sy what-ies?”
Mr. Billings shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. All I can tell you is that’s what the fella wrote on his vendor application for the Sweetheart Spectacular. Who knows? Maybe this whole gypsy business means more to the Lees than it does to the rest of us.”
A gypsy? It sounded like something out of a storybook to Ames. Color me not impressed. He didn’t care what the guy called himself. It didn’t change the fact that he was a spineless commitment-phobe, who’d broken the heart of a genuinely kind and decent woman.
He sat forward on the bench, resting his forearms on his knees in an attempt to keep the two espresso cups level. “So, that’s his excuse for showing his face around here, eh?” Signing up as a craft fair vendor felt like the guy was grasping at straws. Was there any significance to the fact that he’d chosen to participate in Pinetop’s annual Valentine themed fair? There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of other craft fairs around the country he could’ve chosen to participate in.
He shot a curious look at Flash Billings’ gaunt shoulder blades. “What’s he peddling, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Hand-crafted wooden toys.” The postmaster’s voice was grim.
“No kidding?” Ames tasted disgust. Apparently, that was something else Laura’s ex had in common with her and her family. He was a blasted toy maker.
Technically, the Lees were certified furniture specialists. However, they’d made a name for themselves as the Merry Woodmakers, producing heirloom-quality Christmas toys. They’d got their start in an RV, roving from craft fair to craft fair across the country. A year ago, however, their fortune had changed after negotiating a contract to design toys exclusively for Santa’s Toy Factory on Main Street. For the first time in years, they had a permanent address. They’d even purchased one of the chalets dotting the side of the mountain.
The last thing Laura Lee needed right now was some blast from her past skidding into town and yanking up the roots she was trying so hard to put down —certainly not some rolling stone who claimed to be the last of the gypsies. What did that even mean?
You’ll have to go through me to get to her, buddy. Only when the coffee lid popped off the cup in his right hand did Ames realize how hard he’d been squeezing the cups. He spent the remaining few minutes of the drive to the Lees’ home trying to clamp the loose lid back into place without spilling the espresso. His efforts proved futile.
Man! Two defunct coffee lids and the unexpected appearance of Laura’s ex-fiancé were a rough start to the perfect evening he’d planned to treat her to.
I can still salvage this. He mentally braced himself as Flash Billings pulled across the front lawn of the Lee family’s three-story chalet. It was a lovely cedar home overlooking the heart of Pinetop. Its snow-drenched roof made it look every bit a part of the postcard town sprawled below it.
Bronc riders are no sissies. I’ve got this!
Though Ames was no master toy maker like Brex Morrison apparently was, he was far from a nobody. He and his two brothers had spent most of their adult lives risking life and limb to make a name for themselves as rodeo champs. They had drawers full of buckles to prove it.
Ever since his oldest brother lost his lower right arm in a highway accident, however, the Carson brothers had been working hard to make a new name for themselves as indoor rodeo performers. The one-of-a-kind acting job was what had brought them to the festive mountain town and kept them there for the better part of a year.
Ames didn’t know how long they’d remain there. Show ratings could be a fickle thing. However, there was one thing he was very sure about. He was desperate to know what it felt like to kiss Laura Lee before he returned to Dallas. If she didn’t feel the same way about him, he’d soon be long gone. If she did return his feelings, though…
He shook his head at the direction of his thoughts, struggling not to spill the espresso sloshing around in the dented, capless coffee cup. As soon as Mr. Billings brought his horses to a standstill, Ames bent to set the two cups of coffee on the floorboard. Then he gingerly stepped out of the sleigh, trying not to rock it too much in the process.