Page 12 of Cowboy's Christmas Girlfriend

Suzanna stopped breathing as understanding set in. “You mean—”

“I mean those things weigh six hundred pounds. You were about to be crushed.”

Suzanna choked on a whimper. Had she just almost...died?

“You’re okay,” muttered Will. “You’re fine; it’s all fine.” He loosened his grip, cleared his throat, and for a while they just lay there, catching their breath. She didn’t want to picture what had almost just happened. What would be happening right now if Will hadn’t grabbed her. If he hadn’t moved fast enough; if the hay had trapped them both.

“You’re a menace with that camera.” He sat up at last, and helped her sit up too.

You could’ve helped, she thought, but she swallowed her retort, and her irritation along with it. He had saved her life. That left one thing to say, and she said it with feeling.

“Thanks, Will,” she told him. “I owe you my life.”

Her gratitude had soured some by the time dinner was done, the aches and pains of the day settling into her bones. She half-lay by the fire, stretched out on the couch, barely able to lift her head when Will sat down beside her.

“I brought you some cider,” he said.

Suzanna glanced at it longingly and let out a groan. “I can’t move my arms.”

“Not even for this?” He waved the steam in her face and Suzanna’s mouth watered.

“Okay, maybe for that.” She took the drink stiffly and tried a cautious sip. Her eyes fluttered shut at the sweet, fruity taste. “Mm. That’s amazing.”

“Amazing enough for you to tell me what’s wrong?” Will flashed her a crooked smile, and Suzanna looked up, guilty. She felt a little ungrateful—he’d saved her life, and here she was sulking. Even so...

“It’s just, I’ve held up my end,” she said. “Playing your girlfriend, even when no one’s watching. But you said you’d help me too. You said you’d shoot me working your ranch, but I hand you my phone and you look at me like I’m—”

“Let me stop you right there.” Will reached for her phone and tapped on her videos. “This is you feeding Apple,” he said, tilting the screen so she could see. Suzanna’s eyes went wide. She’d thought she’d done well, but in truth she looked lost, flinching instinctively when Apple nuzzled her palm; patting awkwardly at her muzzle, unsure where to stroke.

“This is you shoveling snow.” Will tapped on a clip of her straining at her task. “And here, digging postholes. Falling into a posthole—”

Suzanna pushed the phone away. “I get it. I’m hopeless.”

“You’re not,” said Will. “But this was your first day. You can’t expect to come in and just—”

“Dad? Can we make s’mores?” Ann had crept up behind them and was peering over the couch. Beth was hiding behind her, smiling hopefully.

“S’mores? I don’t know.” Will scratched his chin. “Did you finish your chores?”

“Yes,” said the twins, in perfect unison.

“Then they’ve earned their chocolate.” Suzanna winked at Beth, who was sheltering in Ann’s shadow. Beth looked startled, then smiled sweetly in return. Will’s own frown softened and he reached out to muss both girls’ hair.

“All right, then. S’mores it is.”

“I’ll show you my trick for roasting the perfect marshmallow,” said Suzanna, and Beth crept forth at last, and sat at her feet. Will went to the kitchen and came back with the goodies. It didn’t take long for Suzanna to get the girls roasting marshmallows, then Will was right there with the graham crackers and chocolate. Suzanna accepted the crackers but waved off the chocolate. “Not my thing,” she explained.

“You don’t like chocolate?” Ann’s eyes had gone round. “Who doesn’t like chocolate?”

Suzanna just shook her head, nausea rising in her throat. She’d never forget her tenth birthday, sneaking down after midnight for one last slice of cake. Cramming her mouth full of frosting to find it covered in pepper. For your own good, Mom had said, and she’d—

“I’ve got a trick of my own,” said Will, his voice gone gruff with some undefined emotion. “White chocolate peppermint bark instead of milk chocolate. It sounds weird, I know, but you wanna give it a try?” He squeezed Suzanna’s shoulder and she felt she was melting already, warmed by Beth’s shy smile, and by Will’s understanding.

“That actually sounds great,” she said. Milk or dark chocolate turned her stomach, but she’d always been fine with white. She lay back on the couch as Will went for the bark and made more s’mores, listening to Ann rattle on about life on the ranch—her favorite cows, the piglets she’d helped birth. Beth threw in her own two cents every now and then, looking to Suzanna for her approval. Suzanna smiled every time, and every time Beth crept closer, till by the time all the s’mores were gone, she was in Suzanna’s lap.

Life on the ranch could be sweet after all.

5

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