Christmas Baby for the Cowboy (Sweethearts of the Rodeo #4)

Chapter Seven

Taylor

T aylor’s muscles screamed in protest as he hauled himself onto the back of Thunderclap, the meanest bull in Trent’s pen. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, a stark contrast to the dark, brooding mass of the animal beneath him. Taylor had been awake since 4:30 a.m., his body pushed to its limits after a grueling twelve-hour shift as a ranch hand. But he couldn’t afford to be tired now. Not when he was on the back of two thousand pounds of rage.

“Keep your core tight, and don’t let him dictate the rhythm. You’re in control, not him,” Trent called from outside the chute.

Taylor nodded, too focused to speak. He wrapped the rope around his hand, feeling the familiar burn as he tightened his grip. The bull shifted restlessly beneath him, as if sensing the impending battle.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Trent said.

Taylor nodded. The chute flew open, and Thunderclap exploded into the training pit.

The world became a blur of motion and sound. Taylor’s body moved on instinct, years of bullfighting experience translating into a primal understanding of the animal’s movements. He could feel every twitch of Thunderclap’s powerful muscles, every shift in direction.

One second. Two. Three.

Taylor’s arm whipped through the air, his body twisting to counteract the bull’s violent bucks. His thighs burned from the effort of staying centered.

Four seconds. Five. Six.

Thunderclap spun sharply to the left, nearly dislodging Taylor. But he held on, gritting his teeth against the strain.

Seven seconds. Eight.

The buzzer sounded, and Taylor felt a surge of triumph. He’d done it. Eight seconds on the meanest bull in Trent’s stable.

As he prepared to dismount, Thunderclap had other ideas. The bull gave one last massive buck, sending Taylor flying. He hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact. Adrenaline dulled the pain, but he knew he’d be feeling it come morning.

“Nice ride.” Trent jogged over, offering a hand to help him up while one of the other trainers encouraged Thunderclap through the exit chute. “I’ve seen a lot of improvement in your form.”

Taylor accepted the help, wincing as he got to his feet. “Thanks. It still feels like I’m getting tossed in a blender, though.”

“That feeling never really goes away. But you’re anticipating the bull’s movements more. Keep this up, and you’ll be ready to take the UPRC by storm in February.”

That was what he’d been working toward, pushing his body to its limit, day after day. The chance to prove himself, to step out of his father’s shadow and make a name for himself as a bull rider.

As Trent walked him through some technical pointers, Taylor’s mind wandered to Loretta and Georgie. He’d missed going to the Christmas parade with them this morning because he was working. The guilt gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside. It would all be worth it in the end, he told himself. When he was winning rodeos and providing for his family, these sacrifices would pay off.

“Taylor?” Trent’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You still with me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Taylor shook his head, refocusing. “Just tired, I guess.”

“I know you’re pushing yourself hard. But remember, rest is just as important as practice. You can’t perform at your best if you’re running on empty.”

Taylor nodded, knowing Trent was right but unsure how to ease up when he was so close to his goal. Before he could respond, a woman approached them from the bleachers. She was well dressed, in a smart business suit and heels. Definitely out of place in the dusty ranch. She was bearing down on them with a keen look in her eye that immediately put Taylor on alert.

Lawyer? Taylor didn’t think he was being sued and hoped Trent wasn’t either.

“Excuse me,” the woman said, extending his hand. “I couldn’t help but watch your practice. I’m Riley Preston. I’m a movie producer.”

Taylor shook the offered hand, confusion and skepticism warring within him. “Taylor Keating. Nice to meet you, ma’am. What brings a movie producer to a bull-riding school in Last Stand?”

Riley smiled, practiced charm in her expression. “I’m working on a rodeo film for a pay TV channel. We’re looking for someone to consult, to make sure we get the details right. I asked Trent first, but he’s too busy.”

Taylor glanced at Trent, who nodded in confirmation.

“After watching you ride, I think you might be just the man we need.”

Taylor’s eyebrows shot up. “Me?” It was probably because she knew he was Barney’s son. But she hadn’t mentioned his father’s name yet and he wasn’t going to offer it up.

“How does a thousand dollars sound?”

The amount made Taylor’s head spin. A thousand dollars would go a long way toward their savings for an apartment, maybe even allow them to move out of the Winnebago sooner than planned. But the thought of taking on more work, of giving up his precious days off was a big red flag for him. He was pushing the limit of his endurance as it was.

“I don’t know,” Taylor said slowly. How could he turn this down? But how could he fit one more thing into his day? “How many hours are we looking at?”

Riley smiled at him. “I understand you’re a busy man. We can work around your schedule. A few hours here and there, whenever you can manage it. What do you say?”

“What exactly are you looking for me to consult on?” he asked.

“Ideally, we would want you on the set, watching the actors to make sure they’re being authentic. If you see us doing something wrong or too ‘Hollywood,’” Riley used finger quotes around Hollywood, “we want you to correct us. But you can also watch the dailies and give us pointers.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” It actually sounded like money for nothing. Still, Taylor hesitated, torn between the opportunity and his already overwhelming commitments. He thought of Loretta and Georgie and of the life he wanted to provide for them. “All right,” he said finally. “I’ll do it.”

“Excellent, here’s my card. Put me in your phone and I’ll be in touch soon.” As Riley tottered away on impractical heels, a mix of excitement and apprehension settled in his gut. He’d figure out how to make it work. He had to.

The walk home from Trent’s school felt longer than usual, Taylor’s tired muscles protesting every step. The sun had fully set now, the crisp December air nipping at his exposed skin. As he approached the Winnebago, he smiled at the sight of the cheerful Christmas lights Loretta had strung around the windows. No matter how exhausted he was, coming home to his little family always lifted his spirits.

Inside, he found Loretta putting the finishing touches on Georgie’s holiday outfit, a tiny sweater with reindeer prancing across the front. She looked up as he entered.

“Hey, cowboy, how was practice?”

Taylor crossed the small space, and gave her a kiss before gently stroking Georgie’s chubby cheek. “It was good. I rode Thunderclap for the full eight seconds.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah, it was. But something interesting happened after practice. A movie producer was at Trent’s place. She approached me to consult on a rodeo film they’re making.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “For real? Are you sure it’s not a scam?”

He shrugged. “Trent knew her.” As Taylor gave Loretta the gist of the offer, he watched a range of emotions flash across her face—surprise, excitement, and finally, a hint of worry.

“A thousand dollars would be a big help,” she said carefully. “But when will you have time for this? You’re already stretching yourself so thin.”

“I know, I know.” Taylor sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I’ll make it work somehow. Maybe cut back on some practice hours.”

Loretta nodded, but Taylor could see the concern lingering in her eyes. Before she could voice any further doubts, he changed the subject. “Hey, we should get going. We don’t want to be late for Santa at the tree lighting and Christkindlmarkt.”

“Right. Let’s get going. Georgie’s been extra fussy today. I think he’s picking up on all the excitement around here. Alissa and Pearl were bouncing off the walls all day today. I think watching the lights and listening to the Christmas music should be a nice distraction for him.”

As they bundled up Georgie and themselves against the chilly night air, Taylor felt a second wind coming on. The thought of spending the evening with his family, surrounded by the magic of the holiday season, gave him a much-needed burst of energy. Also downing two ibuprofen chased with a big mug of coffee didn’t hurt either.

The short drive into town was filled with Loretta’s animated descriptions of the morning’s parade. Taylor listened with a mixture of joy and regret, trying to picture through her words the colorful floats decorated as train engines and the Peach Queen in all her glory.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” he said as they approached the town square. “I promise I’ll make it up to you both.”

Loretta squeezed his hand. “There’s nothing to make up. You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

He was glad it hadn’t even occurred to him to stay home to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

The town square was a vision of holiday cheer. A massive Christmas tree stood unlit in front of the library, surrounded by a crowd of excited townsfolk. Children darted about, their laughter mixing with the strains of carols being sung by a local choir.

As they found a spot to watch the tree lighting, some of the tension from the day began to melt away. Georgie, wide-eyed and alert in Loretta’s arms, was mesmerized by the festive atmosphere.

A hush fell over the crowd as the mayor stepped forward to give a short speech. Taylor’s attention wandered. He was more focused on Loretta pressed against his side and Georgie’s wonder-filled expression.

When the tree burst into light, a collective gasp of awe rose from the gathered crowd. Georgie let out a delighted squeal, his little hands reaching out toward the twinkling lights.

“Look at that, buddy,” Taylor murmured, taking Georgie from Loretta so she could snap a few pictures. “Pretty amazing, huh?”

As the crowd began to disperse, many headed toward Main Street where the Christkindlmarkt was set up. The aroma of cinnamon and roasted nuts filled the air, mixing with the crisp scent of pine from the evergreen garlands strung between booths. Cheerful German Christmas music played from hidden speakers, adding to the festive atmosphere.

They wandered from stall to stall, admiring handcrafted ornaments and sampling thickly salted doughy pretzels and stuffed meat kolaches. Georgie, now fully awake and alert, babbled excitedly at each new sight and sound. Loretta took business cards from every vendor and when Taylor asked her why, she just shrugged and said, “Networking.”

It was as good an answer as any, he supposed. But he suspected she might be collecting them to do some Christmas shopping on the sly. Taylor had no idea what to get her for Christmas. They couldn’t afford much, but he wanted Georgie’s first Christmas to be extra memorable and special. He didn’t think he could do that with a token gift. He made a mental note to call Dolly and pick her brain. She had a way of finding things that were meaningful. The best Taylor was coming up with was a fleece robe and slippers. That was a gift you gave your mom, not the love of your life. He didn’t want to give her flowers because they died too quickly and a plant would just add clutter to their already tight living space.

“Want to try some lebkuchen?” Loretta asked, pointing to a booth selling the traditional German gingerbread. “I’ve always wanted to taste the real thing.”

Taylor nodded, fishing out his wallet. As they munched on the spicy-sweet cookies, he found himself relaxing for the first time in what felt like weeks. The weight of his demanding schedule, the pressure of his bull-riding dreams, all faded into the background. He’d figure something out for Christmas. And it would be perfect because they would be together.

“Next year, you should have a booth here,” Taylor said.

Loretta gave him a strange look, but a smile took over her face. “Next year?”

“If we’re still here, that is,” he said.

“I’d like that. But I’d have to start painting some Christmas scenes in the summertime.”

“Christmas in July.” He grinned at her.

“That’s one way to keep cool. I don’t think I would do watercolors or oils though. I think colored drawings might be the way to go. I’ve been dying to try those new art markers they have out.”

Ding. Ding. Ding. Christmas present alert.

She shook her head. “They’re so expensive, though. Like eight bucks a piece.”

Sad trombone noise.

“But are they worth it?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “They were created by Castilla de Roynes. She studied with Liu Xiaodong and Cecily Brown.”

Taylor assumed those were all famous artists. He nodded but made a note of the names on his phone. He’d look them up later. At the very least, it would give them something to talk about other than Georgie.

They paused in front of a beautifully crafted nativity scene, the delicate figurines lit from within, casting a soft glow on the surrounding area. Georgie reached out, fascinated by the lights.

“Let me take a picture of the two of you in front of the nativity,” Loretta said.

“Okay.” Brushing the crumbs off his hands, Taylor took Georgie from her.

“Da…da…” Georgie babbled, his chubby fingers grasping at the air. “Dada.”

Taylor and Loretta froze, eyes wide as they stared at their son. “Did he just…?” Loretta whispered.

“Dada,” Georgie repeated, more insistently this time, turning to look directly at Taylor.

A wave of emotion crashed over Taylor, nearly overwhelming in its intensity. He pulled Georgie close, pressing a kiss to his downy head. “That’s right, buddy,” he murmured. “I’m your dada.”

Loretta’s eyes shimmered with happy tears as she wrapped her arms around them both. “His first word,” she said softly. “Oh, Taylor…”

In that moment, surrounded by the joy and wonder of the holiday season, with his son’s first word ringing in his ears, Taylor experienced an elation that beat out going eight seconds on Thunderclap. He turned to Loretta, cupping her face gently in his free hand. “Thank you.”

Loretta’s smile was radiant as she leaned in, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. “For what?”

“For Georgie. For everything.”

They shared another kiss that could have gone on forever, except Georgie was getting squirmy. After taking a photo in front of the nativity, they continued their stroll through the Christkindlmarkt, Georgie now enthusiastically repeating “Dada” at regular intervals.

Loretta nudged him over to one booth that was selling wooden ornaments. She flipped through their rotating display until she found a miniature pair of baby boots with the year inscribed on the sole.

“To commemorate Georgie’s first word,” Loretta said, showing it to him for his approval before she bought it.

Throat tight, he could only nod. That was the best Christmas present he’d ever received.