Festive Faking (Rust Canyon #1)

7. Aspen

Chapter 7

Aspen

Was I avoiding Mac when I slipped out of bed before dawn, tacked my horse, and rode her hard across the frost-tipped grass until we were both breathless? Absolutely.

My lips still tingled from that kiss, the skin around them mildly abraded from the roughness of his stubble. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I was hoping the crisp morning air would help clear my head.

No such luck.

While our land was fenced in, the bucking horses we bred for competition were allowed to roam freely. The only time a rider sat atop them was during those few seconds a brave rodeo cowboy hopped on and hung on for dear life. The Sullivan Ranch was well-known for producing some of the most spirited broncs in the state, and more often than not, a rider landed on their ass in the dirt before the eight-second timer buzzed. It made our stock more desirable for event organizers because crowds loved a good show.

The rising sun’s warmth caressed my face as I gazed lovingly at a mare and her foal from a distance.

“You’re up early.” My father’s gruff voice sounded from behind me as he brought his horse to a stop alongside mine.

“Doesn’t take long to end up back on ranch time.” Those employed by the ranch were up and working hours before daybreak without complaint.

He grunted his agreement.

I blew out a breath so heavy it hung in the air like a cloud. “I miss it out here.”

Daddy hummed as he nodded. “I once thought I wanted more than this small town had to offer. I craved adventure, excitement, and seein’ the world.”

“Do you regret giving it all up?” I was referring to his days as a rodeo cowboy, riding the same kind of horses we now bred.

Placing one hand on the pommel, he turned in the saddle to face me fully. His lips twisted to the side. “Not as much as I regret seein’ your mama cry every time I got hurt.”

I’d heard stories about the final injury that had convinced him to stop competing. It wasn’t pretty.

“It feels like my heart is split in two. Half of it stays here when I’m in LA.”

His chuckle was deep. “That’s what they call having roots, darlin’.”

“I know. It’s just . . . harder than I thought it would be,” I admitted.

“You’re welcome to come home anytime you want. Our door’s always open.”

The idea of coming home for good was appealing. Sure, I complained about having no privacy and town gossip running wild like a brush fire, but the sense of community was a comfort. When I arrived in LA eight years ago, I’d learned quickly that it didn’t exist in a big city. Now that Bex was in Chicago, I was lonelier than ever—a nameless face amongst the millions.

But it wasn’t like there was much need for an architect in Rust Canyon. Most of the structures were close to one hundred years old, and you’d be hard-pressed to find someone looking for a new build.

What no one knew was that this town was my inspiration, what drove my passion. They might believe I thought I was too good to settle down here, but I wanted to bring a little bit of Rust Canyon to the world.

That was the dream, at least. Who knew if I’d ever be able to make it a reality. That would require investors, people who believed in my vision as much as I did, and I wasn’t sure it was a strong-enough pitch for those with deep pockets. They wouldn’t feel it in their bones the same way I did.

Daddy must’ve taken my silence to mean I had no interest in coming home because he cleared his throat. “Well, it’s your life, sweetheart. So long as you’re happy, I can’t want anything more for you.”

My lower lip trembled.

I wasn’t happy.

Focusing on school had kept me busy enough that I didn’t have time to dwell on the fact that maybe I’d made a mistake leaving this place. I made sure I fell into bed exhausted most nights to eliminate any chance of the doubts creeping in.

There were too many what-ifs to count.

But I couldn’t go back. Only forward. I’d chosen my path and could only pray it led me where I wanted to go.

“Best hustle back to the house. Your mama will have cooked up a feast for breakfast since we have a guest.”

The reminder of Mac’s presence had the guilt associated with fooling my family bubbling over, and I couldn’t stop a sob from bursting past my lips.

My dad didn’t do well with crying women, but that didn’t stop him from hopping off his horse and easing me from my own saddle. Tucking me into his strong arms, he ran a hand down the length of my hair, which was left loose.

“Easy there, honey. I’ve got you.” He soothed me like one of his beloved horses.

I pressed my face further into his chest. I could come clean right now, tell him the whole truth. I knew he wouldn’t be mad or even disappointed, yet something held me back.

Maybe it was the memory of that kiss—the one I couldn’t put from my mind. Something about it had made me come alive—as much as I hated to admit it, given the other participant. A piece of me wanted to chase that feeling, and though I wasn’t sure how, I was determined to find out.

If I could replicate it, maybe that would be the key to finding happiness.

I was thankful for the darkness of night as Tripp drove us into town for Rust Canyon’s annual tree-lighting ceremony.

It was the premier event of the year. Everyone in our community gathered around an enormous evergreen to celebrate the upcoming holiday together. Every business in town was involved in some way. One shop hosted pictures with Santa for the kids while another offered crafts and games to keep them entertained so the parents could mingle. Food and beverage carts lined Main Street, along with live music and dancing, in addition to the various fundraisers being run for those less fortunate.

It was cheery and festive. Growing up, it had seemed damn near magical watching those lights come alive on a tree that appeared so tall it touched the sky.

Now, the whole thing made me nervous. Or, more accurately, it was the man by my side in the backseat doing that.

His dark eyes had held mine over the breakfast table, a question resting in them. I wasn’t sure if he was more curious as to why I’d cut and run before the sun, or if he’d noticed how red and blotchy I was from crying in the field with my father. Either way, I’d broken his gaze and dug into the hearty meal my mama had prepared.

It’s not like I could just come out and say, “Hey, Mac, remember last night? You know, that part where we kissed and I totally forgot my family was there watching as I mauled you. Oh, and you were hard, by the way, which I kinda liked because I’ve never had a guy get hard from touching me before.”

Yeah, so not gonna happen.

I’d kept my distance for the rest of the day but couldn’t avoid him now. No, tonight we’d have to put on a show for the whole town. If we did a shit job, everyone would be talking about it in the morning. If we were convincing, then they’d start planning our wedding.

No matter which way you looked at it, I couldn’t win. This whole plan was a disaster from start to finish, but I was in too deep and determined to see it through to the bitter end.

Tripp parked in a lot behind the bar and cut the ignition. Turning his torso so he could peek into the backseat of his truck, he teased, “Curfew’s at ten, kids. Meet you back here at the car. Try not to get into too much trouble.”

I shoved at his shoulder. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

When Mac opened his door and the interior lights flooded the cabin, I caught Penny biting back a smile. She was such a sweet girl, and smart too, working toward obtaining her vet degree so she could work on the ranch. Her dad had been the foreman our entire lives, and Atkinses lived on the property with us. They were practically family already, and I wasn’t sure what kind of push was needed for Tripp to finally make that leap.

She was right there. All he had to do was reach out and grab her.

“You coming?” Mac’s voice was accompanied by a cold blast of air as my door was wrenched open.

“Yeah.” I allowed him to lend me a hand down from the truck. There was a surge of disappointment that I couldn’t feel his palm against my skin with the both of us wearing gloves.

What the hell is wrong with me? It was one kiss. It shouldn’t be affecting me this much.

Acting the gentleman, Mac wrapped a possessive arm around my waist before extending his free arm toward the sounds of the festive gathering. “Lead the way.”

We passed through an alleyway between the bar and the hardware store next door, emerging into the thick of the action.

“Whoa.” The impressed reaction from the man keeping me tucked to his side said it all.

Unless you’d experienced a Rust Canyon tree lighting, you didn’t know what you were missing.

The brick storefronts lining Main Street were decked out for the holidays, and it felt like we’d stepped into a greeting card. Children were laughing and running through the tight spaces between gatherings of people, the warm scent of cinnamon hung thickly in the air, and the white flakes surrounding us gave off the vibe of being inside a snow globe.

“This is insane,” Mac breathed out. “I don’t even know where to begin. I want to see it all.”

That brought a proud smile to my lips. Big cities had nothing on this.

“We should probably grab our ornaments before all the good ones have been snatched up.”

“Solid plan.” He squeezed my side.

Weaving through the mass of bodies crowded onto the shut-down street, we found our way to the stand selling ornaments. They reused the same ones every year, and the purchase was run on a donation basis. If you were able, you contributed, but if you didn’t have the funds to spare, you could still participate. No one was ever left out.

Reaching the front of the line, I pulled out of Mac’s hold and rushed into the open arms of the woman running the stand.

“Aspen,” she whispered, squeezing me tighter. “It’s so good to see you home.”

Rose Crawford had been like a second mother to me growing up. As my best friend Bex’s mother, she saw me through every major life milestone. But our reunion was bittersweet. My coming home only reminded her that her own daughter refused to return.

“Care to introduce me to your friend?” Mac’s soft tone lacked its usual teasing lilt.

I broke free from the embrace to face him. “Mrs. Crawford, this is Mac, my boyfriend.” Well, shit, if saying that out loud for the first time didn’t give me a little thrill.

“Oh, honey. You’re a grown woman now. I think it’s safe to call me by my first name.” To Mac, she said, “Rose will do just fine, young man.”

“Rose.” He extended a hand to her in greeting, which she accepted with a warm smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”

She clapped her hands. “Let’s set you two up with your ornaments! I have your favorite horse-shaped one hidden away so no one else can grab it.”

My heart swelled that she’d remembered after all these years, and I blinked furiously against the tears threatening to spill over. “Thank you.”

“Aspen!” a feminine voice called out over the din of the crowd. “Is that really you?”

In a town where everyone knew your name, it could have been anyone, so I whipped my head around to discover who was trying to gain my attention. It turned out to be an old classmate of mine, Harper, struggling to push a stroller around the crush of bodies in the street.

My first instinct was to rush to help her, and I jolted a half-step in that direction before I halted, remembering I was in the middle of a conversation.

A hand landed on my coat-clad elbow and squeezed. “Go catch up with your friend. I’ll settle us up here.”

I peeked up at Mac. “You sure?”

He gave a single nod. “Positive. When I’m done, I’ll see about getting us some drinks and come find you. Okay?”

For a split second, suspicion niggled at the back of my brain. Why was he being so nice?

But Harper’s frustrated huff demanded action, and I ducked my head. “Sounds good. Thanks.”

Taking a breath, I stepped into the crowd, bracing for a busy night of catching up with everyone I’d ever known.