Saving the Cowboy’s Christmas (Rowdy Ranch #12)

Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

L ani had promised Desiree she’d participate in the caroling and she prided herself on keeping promises. Her parents had chosen to stay home and be serenaded, so she’d borrowed their truck for the drive over to the ranch house.

The yard in front of the barn bustled with activity. Multicolored Christmas lights decorated Buck’s pickup and the railings on the flatbed. She quickly located Rance hauling hay bales and sliding them into position on the trailer floor. Her stomach did a few backflips.

She’d avoid him as much as possible and hope nobody noticed. After pinpointing Sara, she made her way to her sister without crossing his path. “Can I do anything?”

“Not right now. I was standing here waiting for you. The guys have this part under control, Desiree and Marybeth are inside prepping the hot chocolate for later, and Angie’s gathering old blankets from the house. We can help her spread them over the bales once she shows up.”

“Okay.” That might involve interacting with Rance, but she’d handle it. The ball was in his court so she’d fake polite disinterest until he was ready to talk.

Sara handed over some sheet music. “Faye and Gil printed these and I took an extra for you.”

“Thanks. I’m rusty on some of the lyrics. I was just gonna go la-la-la.”

“That works, too.”

“Where’s Kieran?”

“Over by the barn practicing the unfamiliar ones with Beau.”

“Why? You could teach him.”

“Rance and Clint grabbed hay bale duty and Beau was desperate for a job. Kieran mentioned he didn’t know all the tunes and Beau immediately offered to fix that problem.”

“I don’t see Jess and the kids. Or any kids.”

“Everybody decided they’re too young for something like this. But Jess insisted Beau should be part of it. Mav will love seeing him goof around, which guaranteed he will. But he feels a little lost without them here.”

“That’s sweet.” Thinking of Mav recalled last night’s adorable scene — Rance holding her while she waved her baby turtle in his face. Time to focus on something else. “The lights look good on the truck and the flatbed.”

“Andy and Sky are trying to connect more strands. Andy wants to make a bigger splash with the lights. Desiree loves ’em.”

“So I’ve gathered. Is that Irving Quick?” She pointed to a tall man wearing a topcoat and a Russian-style furry hat.

“That’s him. He keeps trying to strike up conversations with folks and they either ignore him or quickly find a way to escape.”

“You’d think he’d take the hint and drive back to town.”

“From what I hear, he’s on a mission to get Desiree and Rance to forgive him.”

“Good luck with that.”

“He’s also found out Rance has written something, although I don’t think he knows what.”

“How? I was sure nobody would?—”

“He made a good guess and Rance gave it away that he’s writing.”

“Oh, no.” She looked toward the flatbed as the man she adored put down another hay bale and hopped up on the low-slung trailer to shove it into place. “He must hate that.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“Nothing’s working out the way he wanted and now he has to put up with his deadbeat dad.”

Sara gave her a sideways hug. “Not your fault, sis.”

“I know, but?—”

“He had unrealistic expectations.”

“And I gave him false hope. Which reminds me. Is Granny here?” She had mixed feelings about seeing Granny. That lady might understand her position, but she also loved Rance and wouldn’t like to see him suffering.

“She didn’t come. Like Mom and Dad, she decided to stay put and be serenaded. Which is good. If everybody wanted in, we wouldn’t all fit on the trailer and we’d have nobody to sing to. Kieran’s looking forward to it. He—oh, damn. Here comes Irving.”

“Is there a way we can dodge him?”

“We could say we have to go in the house and help, but he might offer to go with us. Nobody inside would thank us for that.”

“Then maybe we can be the most help by keeping him occupied out here.”

“That’s my thought. Hello, Irving. I don’t think you’ve met my sister Lani.”

“Haven’t had the pleasure.” He thrust out his gloved hand. “That’s why I came over.”

She shook his hand, glad that she was also wearing gloves, which minimized the contact. She used to be in awe of successful writers, but her job had muted that reaction. For the most part. She’d still be tongue-tied if she ever came face-to-face with Stephen King.

Through her work she’d discovered that writers were just people. She’d never had a reason to actively dislike a famous author.

Until now.

What kind of man fathers a child, abandons him for twenty-nine years and then pops up and makes a pest of himself? Irving Quick’s moral compass had to be seriously off-kilter.

But his face — oh, my God — his face was Rance’s with thirty years gently added. He was still a handsome devil and his smile was so like Rance’s it gave her goosebumps.

“I guess you and I are the outliers.”

“We are?”

“The only two who don’t live here.”

“Oh.” She hated being lumped into a category with him but he was correct. “I guess so.”

“I hear you’re in publishing.”

“I am.” Chances were good he’d never heard of the company, but she said the name anyway, out of company loyalty. “Square Glasses Press.”

He chuckled. “Cute. For Benny Franklin, right?”

“Right.” He probably thought calling him Benny was clever.

“Sounds like a boutique outfit.”

Sara jumped in, bless her. “It’s a great company. They have an excellent reputation. Lani’s worked with some amazing authors.”

“Good editing is so important. I’ve had some decent editors but inevitably they leave and I have to break in another one.”

“How terribly sad for you.”

Lani managed to turn her laughter into a cough. Would Irving take offense at Sara’s sarcasm?

“You said it. Sad and incredibly frustrating.”

Looked like Irving wasn’t easily offended.

And he clearly relished having an audience. “You know, I almost envy the writers who skip the traditional route and go indie. Then you get to choose your editor. I think Rance would be smart to take that path.”

“Hm.” Wouldn’t he love that? He might think then he wouldn’t have to risk seeing Rance’s bestseller sitting in the front of the bookstore, possibly beating out his.

“In fact, Desiree should absolutely consider it, too. She has an editorial board right here. The Wenches could cover edits and Lucky’s marketing guru Trent could handle promo. Find a cover artist and she’s in business.”

And she’d still outsell this stuffed shirt.

“I stopped by L’Amour and More this afternoon. It’s charming. The perfect venue for her genre and she can always be assured her books will be in the front window.”

“I spent a lot of time in New York before I moved here in the fall.” Sara gave Lani a covert nudge. “M.R. Morrison’s books are everywhere, including in the front window of bookstores.”

He looked like he’d just sucked on a lemon. “Well, yeah. Going indie probably won’t change that if she maintains her connections. Anyway, she’d be crazy not to publish her own books, considering she has all this built-in support. I haven’t told her so, but I probably will before I leave. She might not have thought of it.”

Lani wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand there listening to Irving’s claptrap. Then Angie came out on the porch loaded down with blankets. “Hey, Sara, Angie’s got the?—.”

“Blankets! Right! Sorry, Irv, we gotta run.” Sara wasn’t kidding. She race-walked as she headed for the porch.

Lani jogged to catch up with her. “Indie publishing indeed,” she muttered.

Sara slowed down. “He’s late to the party. Desiree’s already thought of it and she may give it a try.”

“Huh. She made a reference to it yesterday but I didn’t think she was serious.”

“Now that she’s uncloaked herself, her publisher wants to send her around to bookstores. She’d rather have readers come to her, which is the whole point of the M.R. Morrison tours.”

“I can see the appeal, for her anyway. Rance shouldn’t go that route, though.” She shifted her attention to Angie, who wasn’t moving very fast. “That’s a big-ass pile of blankets, girlfriend!”

“I won’t lie. They’re heavier than I expected.” She paused to catch her breath as they approached. “Mom’s a big fan of wool.”

“I thought you’d never come out.” Sara relieved her of several. “We got stuck with Irving.”

“I’m sorry.”

“We survived.” Lani took her share and they set off for the flatbed. “That man is a piece of work, though.”

“That’s what everybody says.”

“Oh, and get this,” Sara added. “He thinks L’Amour and More is the perfect little venue for your mom’s books, a place where she can dominate the front window since she owns the store.”

Angie laughed. “Then he’s been in there. He must have been shocked to discover that Lucky doesn’t have any of his books.”

“I think he’d reframe it,” Lani said. “Lucky doesn’t have his books because they fly off the shelves and Lucky can’t keep up with the demand.”

Sara nodded. “That sounds about right. So Angie, how did you get along with Adam Bridger?”

“Very charismatic. Mom took to him right away and vice-versa. She and Lucky are stoked about turning a Victorian into a bookshop. Trent’s ready to sink his teeth into a new marketing challenge. But if the state doesn’t fix that treacherous road, we’d burn a lot of hours going the long way.”

“Then I hope they get on that road project. Kieran’s so excited about working on a Victorian and being part of creating Lucky’s third bookshop.”

“I could tell. Kendall didn’t make it into town to meet Adam, but she’s all for it, too, especially if the road gets fixed.”

A twinge of envy caught Lani by surprise. Opening a branch of L’Amour and More in an old Victorian sounded like fun, especially because so many family members would be involved. Locally owned bookshops were a passion she shared with the McLintocks.

She couldn’t be in the thick of the planning and executing of the new venture, but she’d have to be okay with that. As she’d learned years ago, saying yes to one thing meant saying no to something else.

Or someone else. Saying no to Rance was tough — tougher than anything she’d ever done in her life.