Chapter Twenty-One

Hannah…

I follow Jessica into the house, and just the scent of baking cookies has my stomach growling. I really do need food, real food, but for now, I hurry back to the kitchen and enter to make an announcement. “I have an urgent need for cookies. Can I get some for the road?”

Martha and Ruth laugh, and once I have a bag filled with cookies in my hand, the women sandwich me in a hug. “We’re so glad you’re back!” Martha explains.

Ruth turns me to face her, her hands on my arms. “You’re my granddaughter. Don’t forget it.” She kisses my temple and sets me away from her. “Now, go plan this festival and then sing to Snowflake. That’s an order.” She winks. “And feel free to kiss Roarke for me if you want to.”

My cheeks are, once again, heating. These women are so good at making me blush, but then they always were. It’s funny how those things you hated in your youth, you endure with fondness when you grow up.

A few minutes later, I’m in a sleek black BMW with Jessica, both of us stuffing our faces with cookies. “She’s really a brilliant baker,” Jessica says, starting the car. “I’m so lucky I have the opportunity to allow the world to taste her food.”

“It’s amazing the way you came in and turned her skills into a business.”

“From divorce attorney to entrepreneur,” she says, backing up. “I blame her cookies for inspiring me. Now you’re an entrepreneur, too. I love that this little town manages to become an opportunity for so many. I hope we can keep that going, use the festival to create more great things for more people.”

I know now why Jason loves her and Roarke approves of her place by his friend’s side. She’s really a generous, good soul.

“You know,” she says, glancing over at me. “I’m pretty excited about the festival. It showcases my two favorite people in the world: Jason and Martha.”

Funny thing is that I would have said Roarke and Ruth were my two favorite people. They were family. Right now, they still feel like family.

“Do we need to talk about this thing with you and Luke any further before we get to the courthouse?”

“There’s nothing more to tell.”

“Did you date when you were in Sweetwater?” she asks, and I suddenly wonder if this is about Roarke or me. I do believe she’s protecting him, which could bristle my nerves, but it doesn’t. I like that she’s protective. I’m envious that he has that in his life. That he has this place in his life.

“We didn’t,” I say, and while there is more to add, it comes back to one place. “I was always all about Roarke.” I glance over at her. “And that story, the one of Roarke and me, is Roarke’s to tell, not mine.”

“It’s your story, too.”

“But this is his place and his people.”

She huffs at that. “Oh please. This place and these people are yours, too. That’s quite obvious to see.”

“Nevertheless,” I say, not about to argue this point, “Roarke and I were engaged. Now we’re not. The rest is his story.”

She glances over at me, presses her lips together in an obvious effort to stop herself from asking more questions. That must not be working because she grabs a cookie and shoves it in her mouth. I laugh and do the same.

The rest of the short drive is cookies and talking about the town decorations. We pull into the courthouse with a vision of candy canes and Christmas trees to present to Luke. We find the tall, blond, and quite good-looking ex-rodeo star in his office, scowling at the paperwork in front of him. “Why the heck are you the mayor of this town?” I demand.

His gaze jerks upward, and he stands. “Holy hell, I don’t know, and get your sweet ass over here and give me a hug.”

We meet at the end of the desk, and he looks like himself in faded jeans, a button-down rodeo-style shirt, and boots. The office says otherwise. “Come here, girl.” He hugs me, which was wholly brotherly in the past, but then he adds, “You need to sing to me and get me all worked up again.” I grimace and push away from him.

“I didn’t sing to you.” I poke his chest. “I sang to the bar.”

“But damn, baby, you got me hot under the collar.”

“Tequila got you hot under the collar. You were drunk.”

“Your point?” he challenges. “I knew what I was doing. Is that why you walked me to my room and tucked me in like I was a two-year-old who needed a blankie, not a man?”

“Oh good Lord, Luke,” I say. “Stop talking. What happens in Vegas is supposed to stay in Vegas, remember? You told me that enough times that night.”

In Vegas, where he was drinking his way past his girlfriend cheating. The cheating part is what almost won me over. I related to his pain. He pulls back to look at me. “Nothing happened to stay in Vegas, though it should have. You’re as pretty as sunshine on a rainy day, and that was a rainy day. As is today, because believe you me, me behind this desk is a damn thunderstorm.”

I twist around to motion Jessica forward. “Nothing happened between us. Don’t read into this.”

“I already said that,” Luke chimes in behind me. “I told her you tucked me in like I was a two-year-old. That doesn’t exactly say we were knocking boots, babe. You were too hung up on Roarke despite him breaking your damn heart just like Karen did mine.” He eyes Jessica. “Hi, Jessica.”

“Hi, Luke,” Jessica says. “Always interesting when we meet.”

“Seriously,” I say as he shakes Jessica’s hand. “Why are you here, in this town, and mayor of all things? What’s happening? Are you still drinking tequila?”

He doesn’t laugh. He scrubs his jaw and motions to the seats in front of his desk. “Let me tell you two pretty ladies a story. And for the record, I might need tequila before this job is done with me.”

We claim our seats, and he rests his arms on the desk that is a big ol’ wooden thing but looks small compared to him. He’s big, tall, and muscular from wrestling bulls. “I thought your parents moved to Dallas and you were a rodeo star? I’m living in the Twilight Zone.”

“My dad hated the big city. He came back here and took over as, you guessed it, mayor. He then proceeded to rupture a disc in his back. I was on a break, six months off until I go back to the circuit as a judge this time. He made me acting mayor, which yes, that can happen in Sweetwater. It did.” He rubs his hands together. “So, let me get to mayor duty for this town and doing what good I can while I’m here. We’re having a festival. Do I get to ride a damn bull for this festival or is it all just gingerbread men and candy canes?”

“You,” Jessica says, “get to be auctioned off for charity. You do not have to kiss your date, but you do have to smile real pretty at her.”

He groans. “Old Lady Misty will buy me. I’m screwed.”

We both laugh because Old Lady Misty is also the cat lady who has lived here for as long as I have walked this earth. She’s eccentric but sweet. “This is for the children’s hospital, right?” I ask.

“Yes,” Jessica says. “A good cause.”

“A very good cause,” I say. “And if she wins you, you get to play with kittens.” His eyes light, and I point. “Don’t make a bad joke about another kind of kitten.”

He holds up his hands. “I’m innocent. Don’t make Jessica think I’m a dirty cowboy.”

“I went to school with you. You are a dirty cowboy.”

“Not anymore. And fine. Fine. I’ll do it because Lord only knows I’m still the single-est bastard in this town.” He eyes me. “Next to Roarke, but then you’re back. You back with him?”

“Roarke and I are none of your business,” I say because I’m not inviting a proposition. And the truth is, part of me wants to scream at the idea of Roarke being single and free. I want to claim him, and that’s a scary reaction.

“Let’s talk about those gingerbread men and a whole bunch of candy canes.”

Jessica and I chime in and find out that the town has pretty much no budget. Luke does, though, and he donated ten grand to be used for the festival or the charity. We leave in a happy place and end up at the diner down the road, where I have my first meal of the day at six o’clock.

“He’s a good guy,” Jessica says, once we’ve ordered.

“He’s always been a good guy. This town is pretty good at making them that way, I think.”

“You didn’t tell him that you’re not with Roarke.”

“Luke and I are not a future couple. Luke, however, has been burned by a woman, and I think he just doesn’t want to be alone anymore. I don’t need him making me his backup plan.”

“He’s gorgeous and smart. He’s a rodeo star. What’s wrong with him? Why is he alone?”

“He’s jaded, I think, after his girlfriend cheated on him. And I know he has a lot of groupies on the road, which is great at first, but those people don’t really care about you. I imagine much like Jason must have experienced in baseball.”

“That’s true. He did. Buckles Bunnies. That’s the groupies, and don’t even get me started on that. Bottom line. He was cold and guarded when I met him, but you and Luke—”

“Never happened. Won’t happen. I’ve already told you, he even told you, that I’ve always been all about Roarke.” The waitress fills our coffee cups, and I grab the creamer. “Even in L.A.”

She links her fingers under her chin. “Did you date?”

“I did. I even had a few who stuck around a bit, but my heart just wasn’t in it. Roarke ruined all men to follow.” I want to ask what she knows about Roarke’s recent history, but I bite back the questions.

“You can’t hold a torch for him all these years. You have to be with him or let him go. The same goes for him. This isn’t healthy.”

“I have no idea what Roarke has been doing all these years.”

“He wasn’t falling in love with another woman, I can tell you that. What is wrong with you two? Why aren’t you together?”

I inhale and let it out. “I’m sorry. It’s— I can’t talk about this. It’s complicated. It’s between me and Roarke.”

She flattens her hands on the table. “Good grief, we hired the right person to keep things private around here. I’m in the inner circle, and even I can’t get any gossip.”

I laugh. “How about some fashion world gossip instead?”

“I’d love some fashion world gossip, but damn it, woman. I can tell how much you love Roarke. Life is short. Don’t lose each other again. And one way or the other, you have to free your hearts for each other or someone else.”

She’s right. I realize in this moment, with Jessica, that she is absolutely right. “You think Roarke has held on, too?”

“Honey, I know he has. I’ve talked to Jason about this. You’re it for that man.”

I pick up my coffee and sip, drinking in her words with the warm beverage. “We lost each other a long time ago,” I say, glancing at her, “but being back, being with him again, I meant what I said earlier. Maybe we’ll find friendship again.”

“I don’t know what happened between you two, but I’m here if you need to talk.” She pulls out a folder from her bag. “But now, let’s cheer up and get all wrapped up in Christmas even though I’m going to secretly hope that you get all wrapped up in Roarke.”

I did, I think. Last night. The problem is that I’m still all wrapped up in Roarke.