Cowboy’s Christmas Heart: Carson Christmas Games, #3

By Leslie North

Never fall in love with a Grinch—especially at Christmas…

 

Taison has learned to shield his heart, by pretending he doesn't have one. Ever since getting jilted two years ago, he's built up walls ten hay bales high. 

 

But Cassie won't let him be the grump he wants to be—not when she needs his help to win a crucial scholarship. In exchange, Cassie will help his Christmas tree farm have it's biggest season yet. But working with Cassie is driving him to distraction. And making his heart feel ten sizes too big…

 

Cassie solves problems. And right now, her biggest problem is trying to make Taison relax and enjoy the holidays. With Christmas right around the corner, she can almost see this sexy cowboy's heart melting right before her eyes. But for some reason, the closer she tries to get to Taison, the more he pulls away. 

 

Maybe Taison isn't a problem to solve. Maybe, just maybe, he's the solution to her lonely heart. Assuming she can get him to admit how he really feels…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Relay Publishing
• Release date: Apr 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215104989

Book preview

1

Taison was watching the snow fall when the party came to find him. It’d been a dry November, and Will’s ranch lay brown and parched under the gray sky. Only now was the snow falling thick enough to lie. By the time the party broke up, the cars parked out front would be draped in shrouds of white.

What’re you doing out here? Will squinted past him, into the building storm. Something out there that shouldn’t be? his best friend asked.

Just watching the snow.

Sarah’ll be here soon. We were all gonna—

"Here you guys are. Tad strode out to join them, the screen door slamming behind him. He spotted the snow and his face lit up. Well, would you look at that? Toboggan season at last."

The kids’ll love this, said Will. Snowmen and snow forts and skating on the pond.

Taison stood quiet and let their chatter wash over him—the kids’ winter dreams, their wishes for Santa. Tad’s upcoming wedding to Will’s little sis. This year’s Christmas Games, and who might take the prize.

Last year was a fluke, said Will. You and Sarah got lucky at trivia night. And our ice sculptures, let’s be honest, it could’ve gone either way.

Keep telling yourself that, said Tad. "We smoked you on trivia. And our gingerbread ranch was epic. You couldn’t have beat us with a forest of sticks."

Taison clenched his teeth. He’d been dreading the annual chaos known as the Games—the parties, the contests, the weeks of forced cheer. And worst of all, the memories, his own private hell.

Will thumped his shoulder. Hey, Kat’s not out there, if that’s why you’re hiding.

"I’m not hiding," said Taison, though really, he was. He’d been dreading bumping into her, here and now more than ever. Here at Tad and Sarah’s engagement party, when their own felt so recent. Just two years ago, he and Kat had been on track for a Christmas wedding, overjoyed to celebrate their engagement with their friends. They’d had their party here too, so they could use Will’s old barn—danced the night away, then later, in the hayloft…

A bitter thought occurred to him, and he narrowed his eyes. "Hold on a second. Why isn’t she here?"

Will shifted uncomfortably. She’s in Nevada for Thanksgiving.

Nevada, of course. With her brand-new in-laws. Taison’s mouth went sour, and he turned away.

I need a drink, he said. He pushed inside, frowning. It should’ve been a relief, Kat not being here. A chance to be himself without having to put on a show of being Absolutely Fine. No need to make small talk, to make nice with her friends. No need to smile at her new man, to cover his hurt and embarrassment. He could relax, so why did he want to scream?

Shh, shh, it’s the bride-to-be! Will’s mom rushed through the front room in a frenzy of excitement. Everyone take your places. Nancy, where’s Tad?

Aunt Nancy glanced behind her—Will’s aunt, not Taison’s, but with the town being so small and the community so close, every adult you knew became your aunt or uncle.

I don’t see him, she said. Tad raised his hand.

Right here, ma’am. Wouldn’t miss this for the world.

Okay, get the music.

Uncle Vince bent over the stereo. Mendelssohn’s wedding march burst from the speakers. The front door swung open and Sarah walked in, arm-in-arm with her best friend, Cassie. Cameras flashed and applause swept the room. A shower of confetti rained from above. Sarah stood blinking at the gaudy display. Cassie gasped and twirled, raising her hands to catch the sparkling bits. They caught in her dark hair and flashed as she spun. Then she was laughing, and Taison stared, bewitched—those long, black lashes, those rosy pink cheeks—

"You guys look amazing. Cassie’s little sister, Amy, swept her into a hug. Is this how you’re having it done for the wedding?"

Taison snapped back to his senses. Hair and makeup, of course. She was still the same Cassie under all that. Cassie from up the way, Sarah’s best friend. He’d known her since she was little—she’d been Sarah’s little shadow, and Sarah’d been Will’s. They couldn’t strike up a ball game without the girls joining in, couldn’t head into town, or down to the lake. Only, Cassie wasn’t so little, not anymore. She was all grown up, and damn, but that smile, and those stars in her eyes. The way her red dress moved with her, flowing over her curves.

Taison cleared his throat. He really needed that drink.

I have good news, said Cassie. She’d taken Amy by the arm, and was leading her aside, not seeming to notice that they’d moved closer to Taison. He shifted away, but his back hit the wall.

The envelope came, and it’s thick. She dug in her purse and pulled out a fat parcel. You wanna open it, or should I?

Amy covered her eyes. You do it. I can’t.

Cassie tore into the envelope and pulled out a thick sheaf of papers and glossy brochures. She smoothed out the top page and read aloud.

Dear Amy—that’s you—Congratulations! I am delighted to inform you that you have been selected for admission to the Seton School for Performing—

Amy let out a shriek, so loud Taison cringed. She jumped, did a spin, and Cassie seized her by the shoulders.

But, wait. There’s more. She held up the letter. They’re inviting you to audition for their musical theater honors program.

Amy stopped jumping. Wait, they are? I didn’t even apply. It’s so exclusive, I didn’t think—

If you’re accepted, placement in the program comes with a scholarship, Cassie said, still reading the letter. "Wow, a great scholarship. This would cover everything—tuition, food, housing, even a stipend for books. You just have to send a video, let them see you shine."

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Amy snatched the letter and stared at it, wide-eyed. I’ll need to stand out. To do something, I don’t know... She bounced on the balls of her feet. Something unforgettable. Something that makes them go ‘her. She’s the one.’ She let out a fresh shriek. I have to tell Uncle Vince. And Aunt Patty, Aunt Viv—"

Amy bounded off, clutching her letter to her chest. Cassie watched her go, smiling.

She’s so happy, she said. Was it like that for you?

Taison glanced around him. Are you asking me?

Who else would I be asking? It’s just us here.

I don’t think I screamed like that, said Taison. But I had a big party the night I got accepted. Me and Will got our letters the same afternoon, so we sort of went crazy, hit the town hard. Well, as hard as you can on just one six-pack.

Beer? Cassie frowned. I’d better not catch Amy doing any of that. She shot Amy a dark look, then her face lit up. Hey, seeing you reminds me, it’s nearly time to get my Christmas tree. You’ll be opening soon, right? Remind me of your hours?

Taison listed them on autopilot. His family had run the Christmas tree farm since before he was born. He could spout off the schedule before he could recite the alphabet.

And how are…things? she asked delicately. I know last year was rough.

Taison tried not to flinch at the part she’d left unsaid. It’d been rough without Kat, without her help. She’d stepped up after Mom’s dementia got bad and she’d moved into assisted living, taking Dad with her and leaving Taison to handle the ranch by himself. The ranch and the tree farm. Taking over the ranch had been natural enough—his dad had always trained him for that. But somehow, it had never occurred to him that the tree farm would be his responsibility, too. It’d always been Mom’s thing, her passion project.

That season, Kat had handled the Christmas sales—chatting with customers, ringing them up. Then last year, Aunt Val had helped, but it had been hard. Her time was limited, not like Kat’s had been. Taison had done his best to fill the gap, but working the tree farm made him think of Kat. He couldn’t be jolly, or schmooze like she had. He’d killed the mood, maybe the business itself.

I’m actually thinking of selling, he said, trying to sound nonchalant. The tree farm was Mom’s thing, and I’ve got my horses.

Selling the tree farm? Cassie looked as shocked as if he’d said he was joining a cult. Why?

It’s a time suck, and it’s not like it brings in a ton of money, especially the past few years. If I sell off that land, I could build a new barn. Expand my stud program. He shrugged, embarrassed. "It’s not that I want to sell. It’s just, it’s a lot, and I’m only one guy. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was just raising trees, but ringing up sales eats up most of the day, and that’s without counting setup, decorations, printing and posting flyers, and all the rest. It’s just... It’s not me."

Couldn’t you hire someone to manage it for you?

I don’t know, maybe. But I doubt the budget would stretch that far. The tree lot’s not a big moneymaker. Add a manager’s salary, I doubt I’d break even.

Still, no more Copps Tree Farm. It’ll be the end of an era. Cassie’s eyes had gone mournful, all big and sad. It made Taison’s chest tight to see her that way.

It’s open for this year.

I guess there’s that. Cassie bit her lip. "You know, my first Christmas memory’s tied up in that place, me and Mom and Dad picking our tree. I’d been crying all day—I’d lost my best doll—and your mom made me cocoa and read me a book. The Fir Tree, you know that one?"

Taison nodded. Sad story.

Not the way your mom told it, said Cassie. She skipped the part where Christmas is over and they throw out the tree. In her version, they planted it in the garden so it could have Christmas every day of the year.

That’s my mom, said Taison. His eyes stung and he blinked. Can I get you a drink, or—

"How is your mom? Still doing okay?"

Dad says she’s happy, he said. He went to the wet bar and poured himself a whisky, mostly for something to do with his hands. "They keep her pretty active—dance class and spin class and water aerobics. She still knows him most days, still remembers their wedding. But there’s less and less days when she’ll recognize me. His voice cracked and he swallowed. She usually thinks I’m her brother, the one who died young. She’s always glad to see him, but it’s not..." He stared into his whisky. He’d run out of words.

I’m sorry, said Cassie. I shouldn’t have asked.

No, she’ll be glad. Glad you’re thinking of her. He gulped his drink, coughing at the burn. "She probably still knows who you are, at least four-year-old you. She remembers the old