Tina Radcliffe - Christmas With The Cowboy

“You don’t believe in Christmas?” She offered a dramatic sigh. “Sort of makes you like Scrooge, doesn’t it?”

“Does that make you Tiny Tim?”

She cocked her head in thought. “I’d like to think of myself as one of the benevolent characters who show you the error of your ways.”

“Right. Right.” He stared at her ridiculous blinking reindeers. “For the record, I never said I don’t believe in Christmas.”

“Could you elaborate then? What is it about Christmas that you have a problem with? I mean besides presents and Christmas parties. And by the way, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you sure have a long list of things that you have issues with.”

“Emma, you’re sort of an overanalyzer. Anybody ever mention that?”

Her eyes rounded. “You have issues with me, too?”

“Now you’re putting words in my mouth.”

“I’m a therapist. I analyze. It comes with the territory.”

“You’re a child therapist and I’m not a child.”

Emma shrugged. “The same principles apply to grown-up children.”

“You aren’t my therapist.”

Her lips formed a thin line, and Zach could practically see the steam coming out of her ears.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“You don’t want to know.”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

“I’m trying to figure out what happened to make you so disillusioned. And why does it seem like you’re angry with me? We used to be friends.”

“That was a long time ago. We were kids.”

She jerked back as though she’d been slapped.

Zach immediately regretted opening his big mouth. Emma was everything good and right in the world, and he had managed to dim her light with his special brand of darkness.

“May I see your assignment slips?” The words were clipped and flat.

“Sure.”

He pulled the crumpled papers from his pocket, smoothed them out and glanced at the words. What harm could come from putting up lights and greenery?

“Oh.” She released a long-suffering sigh.

“Oh?”

“You’re on my team.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“There’s no need to apologize.”

“Sure feels like I ought to.” He shrugged. “So where do I start?”

“Excuse me, Emma, Zach. I hate to interrupt.”

Both Zach and Emma turned to find Lucy standing close with a concerned expression.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked her sister.

“I’ve maxed out. I’m so sorry, but I’m going to have to bail on you.”

“Do you need a ride home?” Zach asked.

“Oh, how sweet of you to offer, but Travis and AJ are dropping me off. They live right down the road.” She glanced around at the room and frowned before she put a hand on Emma’s arm. “I feel horrible leaving you with cleanup.”

“Go, Lucy,” Emma said.

“Are you sure?”

“Cleanup is my specialty. You of all people know how true that is.”

“I’ll help,” Zach said. The words slipped from his mouth before he had a chance to outrun them.

Lucy and Emma turned to him, startled expressions on their faces.

He offered an embarrassed chuckle. “Come on. I think I can handle a little disaster recovery, ladies.”

Emma bit her lip, saying nothing.

When Lucy stood on tiptoes from her five-foot-two-inch height and planted a kiss on his cheek, Zach froze.

“What was that for?” he murmured.

“Just to say thank you.” She offered him and Emma a benevolent smile. “Take good care of my sister.”

“Oh, good grief,” Emma said. “Lucy, will you please go home?”

“I’m going.”

“Call me in the morning to check in,” Emma called after her. “And stay home if you need to.”

“I just might.”

“Good.” Emma grabbed a trash bag.

“Let me help with that.”

“Zach, you really don’t need to stay,” Emma said.

“I’m on your team.”

“That’s the Holiday Roundup.”

“Let me help you get out of here and home to your children.” He paused. “Besides, I just promised your sister...”

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the vinyl floor tiles. “Do I look like I need to be taken care of?”

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