Page 21 of Cowboy's Christmas Girlfriend

“So it’ll almost be like I’m not lying at all.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Will. He pointed up the drive. “Speak of the devil, looks like we got company.”

Suzanna shielded her eyes, squinting into the sun’s glare. Sure enough, they’d arrived, a convoy of vans beetling down the main drive.

“We’ve got this,” said Will, and Suzanna’s heart swelled with gratitude. He’d said we, not you. Whatever came next, she wouldn’t face it alone.

* * *

“I told you it’d be easy,” said Will. “For you, anyway.” He scrubbed at his cheek, pulled his hand away pinkish. “I can’t show my face around the ranch like this. How do I get it off?”

Suzanna bit back laughter. Will in makeup—that, she hadn’t expected. “Soap and water,” she said. “You should do that at home, though. The soap you’ve got here is too harsh for your face.”

“I’m not going out there with my face full of crud.” Will leaned over the sink and turned the water on full blast. Suzanna winced as he reached for the soap, a hard, scratchy bar stamped ANTISEPTIC. Will had fared worse than she had through the whole ordeal: they’d spent the bulk of their time in hair and makeup, being primped and painted and wired for sound. Then they’d posed for a series of canned “action shots,” pretending the cameras had surprised them going about their chores. The interview proper had flown by in a flash—questions from fans, mostly. How’d you learn to ride? Does Will bale hay shirtless? Suzanna had fielded them all with aplomb, the lies mingled with half-truths tripping off her tongue.

Will stood up stiffly, cheeks scrubbed bright red. “Did I get it all?”

Suzanna rose on tiptoe to thumb mascara off his cheek. “You’re good,” she said. “Sorry they made you do that.”

“As long as you got what you needed.” He sneezed, rubbed his face, and set his hat on his head. “I need to check on the girls. Let’s swing by the house.”

They tramped up the hill, Will in the lead. He’d gone quiet, brooding, perhaps stewing over the indignity he’d just endured. She was sorry for that and wished she could make it up to him.

“Dad!” Ann charged out to meet them, Beth close behind. Both twins were red-faced, on the verge of tears. Will knelt down to catch them and gathered them in his arms.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

“Lucky!” Ann burst out wailing, burying her face in his chest. He held her and rocked her, bent his head to hers.

“Lucky? Our Lucky? What’d he do this time?”

“He ate our tap shoes,” said Beth, and began to cry herself. “The closet was open, and he—he—”

“He ruined our talent,” cried Ann. “We can’t do our dance now, and talent night’s tomorrow. We’ll lose, and they’ll laugh at us, and he ruined it. Stupid Lucky.”

“You could still sing,” said Suzanna. “You’re both great at that.”

Ann fixed her with a look of pure six-year-old scorn. “There’s no singing on talent night. Singing’s for karaoke.”

“You can still do your dance, right?” Will lifted the twins up, one on each hip. “It’ll be a little less noisy, but you’ll still—”

“It’s a tap dance,” said Ann. She looked up at Will, her tearstained face tragic. “If we don’t have our tap shoes, it’s just...it’s just...”

“Us in our normal shoes, kicking the stage.” Beth wiped her nose. “Stupid Lucky.”

“I might have an idea,” said Suzanna. “Now, don’t laugh, but...” She smiled, self-conscious, and spun through an axel turn into a skidding fan kick. “The ice kind of ruined it, but—”

“What was that?” Ann squirmed in Will’s arms, wanting let down. Beth slid down as well and tried a spin of her own. She slipped on the ice and plopped down on her butt.

“It’s from my big jazz routine,” said Suzanna, avoiding Will’s eye. If he laughed right now, she’d dissolve where she stood. “Mom made me take lessons back in third grade. I never made dance squad, but Lord knows I tried. We had to learn this piece for the audition, and I must’ve run through the steps a million times. But, when the day came, I—well, never mind.”

“No, what? What happened?” Beth’s eyes had gone round.

“I got nervous, tripped, and fell flat on my face. Everyone laughed, and I ran out of there. But the good news is, after all that practice, I remember every step. If you want, I can teach you.”

Beth and Ann exchanged glances.

“I like it,” said Beth. “I liked the high kick.”

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