Page 2 of The Curvy Girl's Christmas Cowboy
“Greg!” Mrs. Harmon’s voice slices through our conversation, like a hot knife through butter and I’m grateful for the interruption. It’s too damn early to listen to any of Greg’s matchmaking shenanigans. “Greg!” She pops her head into the barn with a maternal smile that warms the crisp morning air. I’m thirty years old and I’ve spent so much time at their house, I consider her my second mom.
“Oh, honey,” she coos sweetly as her gaze settles on me. “I didn't know you were here.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Harmon,” I say with a smile.
“It’s nice to see you so bright and early. If you’re hungry, you’re welcome to come inside for breakfast.” She shifts her attention to Greg. “Loretta Parker’s here and needs assistance. Mind if I steal you away?”
“Sure.” Greg's expression mirrors my surprise. “Didn’t know she was such an early riser.” We both trail Greg’s mom to where Loretta is leaning over the corral railing, petting the Harmon’s newest arrival, a two-year-old sorrel colt named Pee Wee.
As we approach, the sounds of the ranch come to life around us. The low, comforting rumble of mooing cows echo from a nearby pasture, while a chorus of birds chirp in the surrounding trees, mixing with the earthy scent of hay, leather, and the clean Montana air.
Loretta’s eyes light up when she sees us. “Well, good morning, you two!” She says in a bright voice that makes me guess she’s been awake for hours. “I hope I'm not interrupting anything important.”
Greg chuckles. “Nah, it’s never too early for a neighborly chat with you, Loretta.”
“Did you need help with your car” I offer. “Or can we move something heavy for you, ma’am?”
“No, no,” she waves the question off. “What I require has nothing to do with wrenches, or lugging furniture, but I’m afraid it’s urgent. That’s why I wanted to catch you before you started your day.” She runs her hand along Pee Wee’s gleaming neck. “I’m hoping one of you can spare some time to help with the Christmas Hoe Down. First annual,” she quickly adds with a smile. “If we do this up right, it will bring much needed revenue to West Palomino.”
“Greg, you’re available, aren’t you?” Mrs. Harmon volunteers.
“I’m afraid not.” He shrugs, sending Loretta one of the secret weapon smiles he saves for emergencies. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to lend a hand, but I’ve already offered to help Tiana and Levi with their Warrior Ranch Gala.”
“Aren’t you a doll.” Mrs. Parker melts. “It’s a very worthy cause, Greg. Thank you so much for helping my son.” Loretta lovingly gives him a pat on the shoulder. And once again, I witness the embodiment of charm known as Greg Harmon. That man can wrangle his way out of or into anything. Now, all eyes are on me.Great.
“What about you, Storm? Do you have any free time available?” Loretta and Mrs. Harmon seem to be holding their breath as they stare me down. Greg, who’s standing off to the side behind them sends me a smug wink. He knows I’m trapped. There’s no way out. On the other hand, I could use a few brownie points in this town. How difficult can helping with a Christmas party be? She probably needs me to hang a few lights or deliver a tree.
“Sure. I’m in. How can I help?”
Loretta sighs in relief with a smile. “You can start by meeting me at Slice of Life bakery tonight at six.
Chapter three
Peach
My sister Cherry rushes out of the kitchen and passes a box of cookies to our brother Gunner. The Sheriff’s Department is having their holiday party early this year. “Thirty-five-star shaped sugar cookies, Mom decorated them to look like badges, thirty-five gingerbread cookies, and forty chocolate chips. Think you’ll have enough?”
“That’s plenty.” He gives her a peck on the cheek.
“Say hi to Morgan for me, okay?” I ask, as he gives me a hug. My brother is a new man since he married Cherry’s best friend. After he lost his first wife, I never thought I’d see Gunner smile again.
“Will do,” he says, before turning to mom for another quick kiss. “Thanks for going all out for me with those badges.” He grins because he knows he couldn’t stop Mom from decorating every last inch of a pastry no matter how hard he tried.
“My pleasure,” Mom says proudly. “Have fun tonight, honey. Give my love to everyone.”
We watch him head into the blustery winter night from the comfort of our family’s cozy bakery as the wind outside rattles the windows. “Thanks again for helping Loretta with the hoe down.” Mom squeezes my hand. “I had no idea they needed a venue and a band. I thought those were already booked and she only needed help the day of.
Cherry chimes in, “And I swear I’d give you a hand if I wasn’t leaving for Italy tomorrow for Jeb’s art show.”
“I believe you,” I tease. I’ve been razzing her for bailing on me and Mom for adding me to Loretta’s list, but I’m not too concerned about the hoe down anymore. This town has a way of coming together, and I’m sure someone will step up to offer a venue. As for the band, Boondocks always gives new acts a shot. I just need to find the right one for our event.
“Don’t forget to turn off the lights and lock the doors,” Mom says as she and Cherry bundle up in their heavy coats. They spin around for a final look at the decorations we’ve been working on all afternoon: stenciled cardboard letters spell out “Merry Christmas” over a snowy landscape on the front, street facing window. Glass snowflakes and white fairy lights dangle from the ceiling; and the big wooden Frosty the Snowman we painted to look like an enormous three-layer cake sits on the counter next to the register. Mom fixes her gaze on the tree. “It fits that corner perfectly.”
“Pruning all those branches did the trick.” We hug each other and I walk them out to the sidewalk where Loretta Parker is just exiting her Range Rover. She, Cherry and Mom greet each other with warm hugs while I hold the door open for Loretta.
She smells luxurious as always, like a perfume counter in a high-end department store. Dressed in a beige cashmere coat, with sumptuous leather gloves and a beautiful scarf, she exudes and aura of refinement without one flashy label.
“Have a seat and I’ll get the drinks. Hot cider?”
