Marie Ferrarella - The Cowboy's Christmas Surprise

“Don’t see why a casualty would have you grinning from ear to ear like that,” Miss Joan observed, then ordered, “C’mon, spit it out, boy. What the devil are you talking about?”

The twinkle in the woman’s hazel eyes, Holly noted, seemed to be at odds with the question she’d just asked and the way she’d asked it. Everyone understood that Miss Joan knew it all: was privy to every secret, knew what people were doing even before they did it at times and in general was viewed as a source of information for everything that was taking place in Forever.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know,” Ray suddenly said, looking at the older woman. He was savoring every second of this—especially if it turned out that he knew something before Miss Joan actually did.

“I’m not saying one way or the other, I’m just saying that since you’re so all fired up about spilling these particular beans, you should spill them already—before someone decides to string you up.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a direct order, and if she actually did somehow know what he was about to tell Holly, he appreciated Miss Joan allowing him to be the one to make the announcement. After all, it did concern his family.

Forever was a town where very little happened. They had the customary sheriff and he had appointed three deputies—including his sister, Alma—but they spent most of their time taking care of mundane things like getting cats out of trees and occasionally locking up one of several men in Forever who had trouble holding their liquor. Occasionally the men in question had imbibed too much in their singular attempts to drown out the sound of displeased wives.

Moreover, it was a town where everyone knew everyone else’s business, so to be the first one to know something or the first one to make an announcement regarding that news was a big deal.

“Well?” Holly coaxed, waiting. “Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to shake it out of you?” It was a threat that dated back to their childhood when they were rather equally matched on the playing field because they were both incredibly skinny.

He grinned at her. “You and what army?” he teased. When she pretended to take a step forward, he held up his hands as if to stop her. Having played out the moment, he was finally ready to tell her what he’d come to say.

“You know the woman who came to our ranch to work on that box of diaries and journals my dad found in our attic?”

Holly nodded. She’d caught a glimpse or three of Samantha Monroe, the person Ray was referring to, when she’d stopped by the diner. The woman had the kind of face that looked beautiful without makeup and Holly truly envied her that. She wore very little makeup herself, but felt that if she went without any at all, she had no visible features.

“Yes,” she answered Ray patiently. “I remember. What about her?”

Ray grinned broadly. “Well, guess which brother just popped the question?” Ray’s soft brown eyes all but danced as he waited for her to make the logical assumption.

For one horrifying split second, Holly’s heart sank to the bottom of her toes as she thought Ray was referring to himself. She’d seen the way he’d initially looked at this Samantha person, and even someone paying marginal attention would have seen that he’d been clearly smitten with the attractive redhead.

And while she knew that Ray’s attraction to a woman had the sticking power of adhesive tape that had been left out in the sun for a week, there was always the silent threat hanging over her head—and her heart—that someday, some woman would come along who would knock his socks off, get her hooks into him and Ray would wind up following this woman to the ends of the earth, hopelessly in love and forever at her beck and call.

But then she realized that the smile curving his sensual mouth was more of a smirk than an actual smile. She wasn’t exactly a leading authority on the behavior of men, but she was fairly certain that a man didn’t smirk when he was talking about finding the love of his life and preparing to marry her.

So he wasn’t referring to himself.

That left only—

“Mike?” she asked, stunned as she stared at Ray. “Seriously?”

Miguel Rodriguez Jr., known to everyone but his father as Mike, was the eldest of the brothers. Unlike Ray, Mike smiled approximately as often as a blue moon appeared. If Ray dated way too much, Mike hardly dated at all. From everything she’d seen, the eldest of the Rodriguez siblings had devoted himself to working the ranch and being not just his father’s right hand, but his left one, as well.

She’d just assumed that the man would never marry. He was already married to the ranch.

“Mike asked this woman to marry him?” she asked incredulously.

She’d known all the brothers for as long as she’d known Ray, but for the most part, she knew them through Ray’s eyes and Ray’s interpretation of their actions. According to Ray, while Mike wasn’t a woman hater, he wasn’t exactly a lover of women, either. And he had no time to cultivate a relationship.

Yet, as she recalled, whenever she did see this Samantha they were talking about, she’d been in Mike’s company.

Well, what do you know. Miracles do happen.

Ray’s news gave her hope.

“Yeah.” Ray laughed at the surprised look on Holly’s face. “Knocked my boots off, too,” he admitted. “So right after Christmas—they want to get married Christmas Eve,” he added, realizing he had left that part out, “I’ll be the only single Rodriguez male walking around.” There was laughter in his eyes as he relished the image that projected.

“Maybe that’s because the girls in Forever have the good sense to know that as a husband, you’d wind up being a lot more work for them than most men,” Miss Joan quipped.

“No, it’s because I’ve got the good sense never to get married,” Ray told Miss Joan, contradicting the diner owner. He leaned his head on his upturned palm as he glanced toward one of the tables where four female customers around his age were seated, eating their breakfasts in between snippets of the conversation they were engaged in. He sighed in deep appreciation as he looked at the women. “There’re just too many beautiful flowers out there for me to pick to be confined to just a garden on my own property.”

“So now you’re a gardener?” Miss Joan asked, rolling her eyes. “Lord help us all.”

She glanced over toward Holly for a moment, her look speaking volumes. But she said nothing further out loud before leaving to wait on the sheriff, who had just walked in.

“Morning, Sheriff,” Miss Joan said, greeting him as she automatically applied a towel to the counter and wiped down an already clean area. “Have you heard the news?” She didn’t bother waiting for him to respond or even make a guess. “The last of the eligible Rodriguez boys is getting hitched.”

Sheriff Rick Santiago’s expressive eyebrows drew together in a look of confusion. Alma, in between stifled groans as she lowered her very pregnant body onto her chair, had told him the news about her brother this morning. But this little detail that Miss Joan had just sprung on him hadn’t been mentioned.

“The last?” Rick echoed. “I thought Ray was still unattached.”

Miss Joan smiled complacently. “I said eligible, Sheriff,” the woman pointed out. “That implies a good catch. Ray there—” she nodded in Ray’s direction “—is the kind you catch and then release after you realize that there’s no way he’s going to be a good fit for that kind of a position.”

Ray turned around on his stool to face the older woman. He looked more amused than annoyed as he asked, “Are you saying I’m not the marrying kind? Or the kind no one wants to marry?”