Page 3 of Dear Santa, Send Me a Cowboy
“Nothing,” he grunted before turning to face me. In his gaze, all I could see was, “please, don’t leave me here,” and it broke my heart. If I could take him back home, I would, but Jaxon and I had already agreed to this.
And I had no desire to go back to court, so there wasn’t much I could do.
“I’ll be back in a few days, okay?” I cupped his face with my palms. No longer holding his little boy features, he now was turning into a young man. “If you need anything, call or text me, okay? I’ll have my phone on me at all times.”
With a tear falling from the corner of my eye, I placed a salty kiss onto his forehead.
“I love you so much, I’ll miss you.”
A reluctant sigh escaped Silvan as his arms went around me. “I love you too.” The sincerity in his tone warmed my heart.
Returning his hug, I placed a flurry of kisses onto the top of his head before pulling away to acknowledge his father.
With his hands shoved into his pockets, he stepped to the side, granting Silvan access to the inside of his home. As soon as he vanished from view, I glared heavily at Jaxon.
“Please don’t fuck this up like you did last time,” I snarled with a finger jabbed in his direction.
His response was to roll his eyes.
“I won’t. I got all kinds of shit planned for us to do.”
Right…
I wanted to believe him, but his track record of keeping promises wasn’t the best.
“Keep him safe, okay?” I pleaded, the vulnerability in my voice exposed.
“You know I will.” He sighed.
And with a tearful nod, I reluctantly turned around and went back to my car with a slightly cracked heart.
The holidays weren’t going to be the same without Silvan. The only things I could do now was embrace the solitude for a couple more days until I could finally feel whole again.
Chapter Two
DIANA
Iwas a sucker for Hallmark Christmas movies. There was something about the unrealistic, cheesy plotlines that brought comfort into my mundane, lonely existence. Though the romance could be a tad bit spicier, I still enjoyed the swoon-worthy scenes of the small-town hero and the city girl. With my favorite holiday candles burning, a fresh batch of homemade cookies cooling off on my favorite snowman-shaped tray, and an endless selection of Christmas movies to choose from, I was set up for the perfect night in.
The lights were dimmed, creating the perfect, cozy ambience while just beyond the glass-paned window, a heavy downpour of snow was falling. Even though I wished Silvan was here, it was nice to have some time to myself where I didn’t have to think about what was for dinner or if I switched the laundry over. Instead, I could lounge on the couch all night and eat every single one of these cookies without judgment or him trying to steal them all.
The only thing missing, and I do mean the only thing missing in my “Christmas Town” decorated home, was the main attraction.
The tree.
Every year, the sweetest old man, Fred, from Boone’s Tree Farm would make a special trip to my house to drop off the perfect tree. A few years ago, Silvan and I had taken a drive to his farm to pick out a tree but, unfortunately, due to my lack of driving skills in the snow, we ended up in a ditch. Granted, no one was hurt, but Fred now demanded that every year he’d personally drop a tree off so I wouldn’t have to risk ending up in another ditch.
I, of course, argued being the “I can do it myself” type of woman, but reluctantly agreed to his persistent demand.
With Christmas only a couple weeks away, I figured it’d be any day now that Fred would come knocking on my door. I had everything prepared and sitting in the spot where the tree was going to be. From my box of ornaments to the red and green tinsel that I had ordered off amazon.
From the years prior, I estimated either tomorrow or the next couple days he would show up, but just then, as I was about to take a bite of a freshly made sugar cookie, the sound of knocking on the front door interrupted me. At first, I wasn’t sure if I had even heard a knock, or if something had just blown over in the wind, but when a series of persistent knocks came soon after, I realized to my confusion that someone was here.
With tentative movements, I lowered the cookie down onto the tray in front of me and slowly rose from the couch. My heart rate climbed as I began to walk the short distance to the door, wondering who might be waiting on the other side.
Could it be Fred? Surely he wouldn’t come by at this hour… or would he?
As I finally came to a stop at the door, the sound of ragged, labored breaths reached my ears—definitely the breathing of a man. When I finally summoned enough courage to peer through the peephole, all my senses went completely blank.
