My Christmas Cowboy
“Not much I can do about it, though, Amanda,” she said before turning away and picking up her purse and diaper bag. “I am what I am—and that’s a very busy woman with a secret to reveal. Let’s go get it over with.”
After securing Amanda Rose in her car seat, Jolene spared a prayer that her car would start, and then slowly made the way through town and up toward the Riddell Ranch. She’d never been there, but she knew where it was. Shoot, everyone in North Texas did. Old Mr. Riddell had spent most of the past twelve years building a shrine to his family.
She’d even heard about it when she was waitressing in Dallas right after high school. Rumor had it that there was all kinds of gadgets there, and even an elevator. All in all, it was a real far step from the modest home they used to live in. Back when the Riddells lived next door to the Arnolds. Their homes had been carbon copies of each other. Plain old two bedroom homes with one bath and one living room.
Since then, things had changed a lot for both families. Too bad they’d veered in opposite directions, though. The difference was that old neighborhood had been the Riddells’ worst place to live—while it had been Jolene’s best until she’d gone out on her own and learned how to use her assets in the best way.
Thoughts of the past zipped away as she turned right onto Riddell Way, the made-up street name Mr. Riddell had put up at the beginning of their mile-long driveway. The closed gate at the front was a surprise, as was the little box that she had to push a button to talk into.
When she rolled her window down, a frozen patch of air whipped in and caught her by surprise. From the backseat, Amanda Rose let out a howl of displeasure. “I hear you, honey. Hold on now,” she murmured before pressing on the button.
Two seconds passed before Trent’s voice answered. “Yeah?”
“Trent, it’s me. Jolene.”
“Jolene?”
It was cold enough to set her nose to running, and her eyes watering, too. “Remember I told you I was coming by? I’m here.”
“Oh. Hey, any chance you could come back later? I’ve kind of got my hands full.”
And she didn’t? “No, I cannot.” Behind her, Amanda’s little whines of protest morphed into a giant howl. She had to speak a little bit louder now because Amanda Rose was threatening to burst a lung. “Hush, baby.”
“Baby? Who’s that?”
“Baby is my daughter. She’s cold because I’ve got the window down, talking to you,” she added impatiently over Amanda Rose’s carrying-on. “I’ll explain everything as much as you need me to … later. Now open the darn gate.”
Right away the gate opened.
“Praise the Lord for that,” she muttered. She rolled up the window and inched forward before Trent changed his mind and closed the gates on her.
Amanda Rose continued to cry.
Oh, but a road had never seemed so long. As the baby wailed for all she was worth, Jolene’s hands started to sweat as the house came into view.
All white and stately and gorgeous, it looked exactly like what any poor white trash Texan would produce, if he had a million dollars. A replica of J. R. Ewing’s home from Dallas.
She parked in the circular driveway, grabbed her bag, and before she could chicken out, opened the back passenger door and unbuckled the baby. With Amanda in her arms and the carrier slung over an elbow, she marched up the steps and rang the doorbell.
Not two seconds passed before Trent opened the wide oak door decorated with the fanciest Christmas wreath she’d ever seen.
“Hey,” he said.
It was cold. It was windy. Amanda Rose was crying for all she was worth.
But still Jolene was stunned into submission. Trent Riddell was a magnificent piece of man, and that was putting it mildly.
Dressed in dark jeans, black boots and a form-fitting indigo blue sweater, he looked like a model in an ad for men’s cologne. He’d either forgotten to shave, or was fostering that Brad Pitt look. The one where men constantly looked scruffy.
Boy howdy, could he pull it off.
Her mouth went dry. Oh, what was it about Trent that made her wish she was something more?
“Hey,” she said after way too long.
Looking irritated, he waved a hand across the threshold. “Well, come on in, Jo. You’re gonna freeze your ass off if you stand out here much longer.”
“Watch your mouth, Trent,” she said testily as she walked on in. “I’ve got a baby here.”
With a thud, the door closed behind her. “So I see.”
Luckily, Amanda Rose had finally taken a breather and was happily nestled against her chest, looking at Trent as if he was her new favorite toy.
Unluckily, Trent leaned closer and grinned. The tangy scent of that cologne he should be modeling wafted closer. Mixing in with the scent of furniture polish and money that seemed to waft from every corner of the entryway.
“Well, let me see her.” To Jolene’s amazement, he held out his hands.
“Her name is Amanda Rose.” She had no choice but to carefully place her baby—their baby—in his arms.
Jolene could hardly breathe as two sets of blue eyes looked at each other in surprise. Two sets of dark blue eyes framed with inky black lashes.
The pissed off look he’d been sporting vanished in an instant. “She’s a cutie, Jo. A real doll.”
“Thank you.”
As three-month-old Amanda stared up at him, raising one tiny fist up to his cheek, rubbing five o’clock shadow, Trent slowly turned her way. “So, who’s the daddy?” His voice was husky. Uncertain. And … flat. “Do I know him?”
She noticed he didn’t ask after her husband. Didn’t even say boyfriend. No doubt he didn’t expect that much of her.
It was time. “You.”
He stepped backward fast. And his arms looked a little shaky, too. “What did you say?”
“Give her to me before you go and drop her.”
He didn’t hesitate, holding Amanda out in front of him like she was about to pee over the front of his shirt. “Jo …”
“Hold on a sec.” Liking the unfamiliar feeling of being in control, she took her time setting down the carrier, settling Amanda in it, then crossing her arms in front of her chest and staring at Trent.
“Jolene, tell me I heard you wrong.”
“You heard me right. I doubt any bull would be big enough to injure your hearing.” Lowering her voice, she said, “This little ray of sunshine here is yours, cowboy. Or, maybe I should call you Daddy?”
Chapter Four
“Daddy?” A few choice colorful swear words erupted then.
As the air turned blue, Jolene waved a hand, as if clearing the air. “Oh, for heaven’s sakes. Settle down, Trent. And watch your mouth.”
“Dammit, Jo—what the hell are you doing, springing this on me like this?”
“I’m not springing a thing. I tried to let you know from the very beginning, but you would never return my calls.”
“I would’ve returned them if I would’ve known this was what you were calling about.”
“Why else would I have been calling you?”
His cheeks heated. “You know why.”
“You are such a piece of work, Trent. Just to let you know, not every woman in the world thinks you’re irresistible.”
“You did.”
Her voice rose. “I was drunk.”
“So was I,” he countered, giving it right back to her.
“Hold on, now! What’s going on in here?” Mr. Riddell growled as he slowly entered the entryway, looking as if each step was paining him something awful.
“Nothing, Dad,” Trent muttered.
His dad ignored him. Instead, he looked straight at her. Then smiled. “Jolene Arnold, is that you?”
“Yes, sir. It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Riddell.”
Trent looked as if he was about to pop a gasket. “Dad, really. This ain’t a good time—”
That was really the wrong thing to say. Mr. Riddell glared at Trent. “Hush, son. Now, Jolene, you better get on over here and give me a hug.”
Jolene picked up the carrier, stepped around the sputtering cowboy, and greeted Cal Riddell Sr. as though they were old friends.
Because that was what they were.
When they parted, Mr. Riddell said, “What brings you over here?”
“I came to see Trent.”
“Oh?” He looked at Trent curiously. “You didn’t tell me she was coming by.”
Trent glared at her. “I didn’t think she was going to be staying long.”
“I won’t stay long. All I needed to do was talk to you about Amanda Rose.”
Mr. Riddell grinned at the baby. “So you’re a mother now?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I am.”
After a pause, Mr. Riddell slipped an arm around Jolene’s shoulders and guided her into a swanky living room. When they stopped in front of a suede couch, he peered down at the baby. “She’s a beauty, Jo. Amanda Rose, you said?”
“Yes, sir.” Looking over her shoulder at Trent, who was standing in the doorway as though he was loitering, she raised an eyebrow.
He stared at her and scowled.
So she did the honors. “Mr. Riddell, her name is Amanda Rose Riddell.”
Mr. Riddell’s expression didn’t waver a bit. Looking fondly at the baby, he leaned a little closer and ran one finger over Amanda’s soft cheek. “Look at those eyes. Why, they are bluer than blue.” He stopped abruptly and shot a good long look her way. “I’m sorry … what did you say?”
“Amanda is a Riddell. She’s your granddaughter,” she said softly. Feeling embarrassed and proud and suddenly shy.
Mr. Riddell stilled. “Trent?”
“We don’t know that for sure. She just sprang the news on me,” he said as he stepped forward. “Dammit, Jo. You’re really going to do this … really?”
“Like I said, I’ve been trying to let you know. I must have called you two dozen times. But you wouldn’t pick up the phone. She’s your baby. She’s our baby.”
Trent looked pale as a ghost. “She might be mine. We won’t know for certain until she gets tested.”
“What?”
“I mean, I get tested,” he sputtered. “Shit. I mean, hell, Jo. We gotta get a paternity test.”
“Really? You think I’m making this up?”
“I mean there’s no telling who the daddy is. Could be anyone …”
“Trent Wallace, you better watch your mouth …”
Slamming a palm on top of a very expensive coffee table, Mr. Riddell’s voice turned low. “Enough of this nonsense. Look at her eyes, Trent. She’s yours. Even if you don’t believe me, those eyes ought to tell you the truth.”
“She really is yours, Trent,” Jo tried to explain. “I promise, I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”
“And I’m telling you, I need proof.”
When Trent stepped closer, his father looked him over as though he was no better than slime under a boot. “I’ve rarely been so disappointed in a son, Trent. You make this right.”
Jolene’s mouth went dry as Trent slumped right there in front of them both.
As she was trying to get her mind wrapped around that, Mr. Riddell engulfed her in a wiry hug. “She’s a beautiful baby, Jolene. You should be proud.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“How ‘bout you start calling me Cal? We’re relatives, now,” he said with a wink.
“Yes, sir. I mean, Cal.”
He gave her another pat. “Now, don’t you worry about a thing. Everything’s going to be just fine, now. You’re no longer alone.”
Just like that, her eyes filled with tears. Trent’s dad had known exactly the right words to say.
After pressing a kiss to her brow, he stepped away and glared at Trent one more time. “You and me will talk later.”
When they were alone, Trent practically collapsed on the couch. “Great job, Jolene. Couldn’t you have waited to involve my dad until I had at least two minutes to process the news?”
“This isn’t my fault. You were there, too.”
“Oh, I know.” He ran a hand over his cheeks. “From what I recall, anyway.” As the minutes ticked by, he rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head. “What do you want? Money?”
No way did she want to go lower in his estimation and be the trashy girl who was seeking him out only for money. She might not be the next June Cleaver, but she sure as hell wasn’t that girl, either.
“I’m not sure.”
“Come on, darlin’. You had to have had something in mind when you called me up and drove over here. I mean, good job. You got what you wanted, huh?”
Chin up, she stared right back at him. Oh, she hated that vaguely condescending, holier-than-thou tone of voice. No, she hadn’t been a virgin when they’d gone at it all night long. But dammit, he hadn’t been, either. Sometimes the double standards were enough to drive her nuts.
His eyes narrowed as the baby made a cute little cooing noise.
And because the only thing Jolene had ever had going for her was too much sass, she smiled. “I didn’t plan on having a baby. But I did. And I don’t regret it. Amanda Rose is the best thing I’ve ever done in my life and I’m proud of her. I’m her momma and I’m always going to be here for her. Always.”
The look he gave her felt like a slap in the face. It was filled with sadness. With a touch of regret. With a sense that for a split second, he’d expected more from the girl who used to follow him around in kindergarten, and she’d disappointed him again.
A lump formed in her throat. She lifted her chin and struggled to swallow.
Then, as soon as she was able, she spoke. “Like I said before, I’ve just been trying to tell you about Amanda. Are you finally ready to listen?”
Chapter Five
Trent didn’t want to be alone with Jolene. And he had made it his number one goal to stay away from moms. Single mothers sought stability—and he was not up for anything remotely resembling that. He made a living on the back of a bull, after all.
And, well, no offense to Jolene, but one day—in the distant future—when he was ready for a relationship, he’d settle down with someone who had class. Someone people respected.
Someone nice.
Trent thought about that some more. What he wanted was a nice girl. Yeah. That’s right. What he was going to want was a lady.
Not a woman half the men in the town knew too well.
Knowing he was in that group of know-it-alls didn’t help his peace of mind none, either.
Jolene’s past—and his part in it—did mean he needed to treat her with respect. His dad would expect that much. So would his conscience. Looking at her closer, seeing the longing in her eyes, brought him back to their past. Back to when he’d first realized that he had so much and she had so little.
“Jo, if it’s money you need …”
“I don’t want a handout.”
He bit his lip, steeling his resolve. He felt bad for her situation, and also a little irritated with her, too, for putting him in this position. He wanted to help her, but he also wanted some time to process what she’d just sprung on him. He wanted to take her to the door and tell her that he’d see her later. But the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings.
Fact was, she made him nervous. All of a sudden, he couldn’t help but recall just how well those lips had fit on his. Just how well they’d parted for him. How sweet she’d tasted.
How, for just a second, he’d felt tender toward her.
But he’d been drunk.
Since he was sober now, he needed to remember that Jolene was in his past. She was a nice woman, but she was never going to be much more than a gal on the trashy side.
Their paths really didn’t need to cross again. Ever.
At least, that’s what he’d planned on. He was a man who liked things being exactly what they seemed. These new developments with Jolene? Well, they were making him crazy, and that was a fact.
She was still standing there in that snug red sweater, looking like a cornered hen just hours before a Sunday dinner. When their eyes met, her chin went up. “Don’t you have anything to say, Trent?”
By now he’d forgotten what they were even talking about. Desperately, he tried to smooth her ruffled feathers. “Jolene, don’t get all emotional, now.”
She adjusted that ugly purse on her shoulder and picked up the baby in the carrier. “You haven’t even seen emotional from me. Of course, I don’t know if you’d even know what honest emotion was if it bit you in the butt.”
That made him squirm. “I would. We were plenty emotional the night we got together.”
“I’m surprised you even remember. We, uh, weren’t at our best.”
“No, we weren’t.” All that whiskey had bypassed his empty stomach and gone straight to his head. But because he wasn’t proud of his behavior, and because she was acting so snippy—he struck back. “I don’t suppose it mattered all that much to you anyway, Jo. I mean, I was just one of many men rolling on your carpet, right?”
Fire flickered in her eyes. “Trent Riddell, comments like that show you don’t know anything. At all.” And before he could open his mouth to defend himself, she walked out of the room and through the front door.
He managed to get it together, and followed her outside.
A burst of wind greeted them both. The sky was dark and the vehicle she was walking to looked like it had seen better days in 1989. “Hey, Jo, let me give you a couple of hundred,” he said, pulling out his money clip.
She paused as she buckled the baby’s carrier in. “I don’t need charity.”
“It’s not a handout. Consider it payment for …” His voice drifted off. He couldn’t really think of anything to say.
“For sleeping with you?” She slammed Amanda Rose’s door, surprising a startled cry from the baby. “That would have to mean that what we did together was good, Trent. And believe me, it was hardly worth a nickel.” She drawled out her last words as she looked him up and down. “I’ve had better sex from men double your age.”
Double?
He was still trying to come up with a sharp retort when she drove out of sight.
DRIVE. INHALE. EXHALE. Brake at stop sign.
As Amanda Rose cooed and jabbered in her carrier, Jolene did her best to concentrate on what she had to do. Did her best to concentrate on getting them back to their apartment in one piece. At the moment, she didn’t know if that was going to be possible because her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
Jolene was sure there were dozens of times she’d been more embarrassed, but she sure couldn’t remember when.
Trent Riddell had looked at her as if she was no better than the burst of snow that had blown in with her when she’d arrived. Maybe “no better” wasn’t an apt description. Maybe it was fair to say he didn’t have any feelings for her. At all.
She’d been mortified. So mortified that she found herself being glad that Amanda wasn’t old enough to realize that her mother was being judged and found wanting.
Oh, that look on his face!
Around her, snow swirled and blew pretty designs in the night sky. The patterns reminded her of one of those geometric screen savers on the computer she used to have. If you blinked, the pattern changed and morphed into something entirely different.
That was kind of how she felt at the moment. She’d realized that Trent Riddell thought of her in a completely different way than she thought of herself. She imagined herself fairly organized and a survivor.
He thought of her as white trash.
She’d imagined that though they’d slept together after a few shots of Jack, their long history and friendship would have been brought to the forefront again. He’d remember that underneath all that eyeliner, she was a nice person. A person who was trying to do her best.
A person he was once friends with. A person his whole family had been friends with.
He, obviously, only viewed her as some kind of easy floozy. And a mistake. A big mistake.
Of course, Trent was right. Seeing him in that big house with the marble and the woodwork and the leather couches in the living room, she’d been all the more aware of her status. Of her look in gray slacks and boots and thrift-store coat.
And of how different she must look from the women he probably dated. When, you know, he wasn’t catting around in honky-tonks.
The women he took out to dinner probably wore gold watches and had facials and manicures. Their sweaters probably came from Neiman Marcus. Their boots from Lucchese.
Twenty minutes later, she pulled into her parking place and shook her head in dismay at her sweet baby. Of course Amanda Rose was now sound asleep. A ride in the car never failed to do that to her. Jolene knew the moment that they entered the apartment little Amanda was going to open her eyes and start fussing. Just when her momma needed to settle down after her tangle with Trent Jerkface Riddell.
She’d just unhooked the carrier, locked her car and swung her purse on her shoulder when one of her neighbors called out.
“Jo, is that you?”
Addison Thomas. She struggled to keep her voice even. “Yep.”
Before she could think of anything more to say, he was trotting over. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing much. I’m just getting home.”
He reached out to help her carry Amanda. With a bit of reluctance, she let him. Her biceps would appreciate the break, even though a part of her hated to give up her baby’s care. Ever.
“Home from where?”
No way was she going to tell him about the disastrous meeting with Trent. “Nowhere special.”
“Oh. I’ve just been working out.” He grinned.
“That sounds like fun.” She fought to smile as they walked side by side through the dark, snowy parking lot. Addison was not exactly all brawn. Actually, he was more along the lines of lean and stringy. With a bit of belly flab built in.
“It wasn’t fun at all. Did I tell you I started working with a personal trainer? He’s kicking my butt.”
“I thought that was the point.”
“Maybe … maybe not.”
Now they made it to her door. “You can just set Amanda Rose down, Addison. I’ll get her inside.”
“I’ve got time. I’ll wait until you unlock your door.”
She was getting uncomfortable. “All right,” she said slowly. She dug a hand in her purse and fished around for her keys. And then fished some more. Finally, when she located the key and slid it into the lock, a good two minutes had passed.
To her dismay, he turned the knob and walked right inside. She flicked on the light behind him. “Well, thanks again.”
After carefully setting the still sleeping baby down, he turned to her. “So, since you’re not doing anything now, how about we visit for a while?”
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty tired.”
“You’re not ready for bed, are you? It’s only nine.”
The innocent question was accompanied by a look of wanting. “No. But I am ready to just sit. Thanks again, Addison. I’ll see you around.”
Instead of stepping toward the door, he leaned back against the white paint of the wall. “You look sad. How about some company?”
“No thanks. I’m not in a very good mood. I wouldn’t be much of a conversationalist.”
“We wouldn’t have to talk, Jo.”
So, that was where his kindness had been leading. Why was she even surprised?
Oh, but her hand ached to slap him. But they were neighbors. And that was her reputation. The good-time girl. So she laughed him off. “Good night, Addison.”
Surprise knotted his brows. “You’re serious, huh?”
“I am. Good night.”
“Well, sure. ‘Night, Jo.”
The moment he walked through her doorway, she closed the door with a snap and dead bolted it. Oh, he made her want to take a shower!
As Amanda Rose slept on, Jolene went to go do just that. Maybe the hot water flowing over her shoulders would relax the knots that had suddenly appeared there.
Maybe all her worries would disappear down the shower drain, too.
She had bills and a baby and a reputation in ruins.
And only about another month’s worth of money in her checking account.
And very few options.
Moments later, she learned that even the cleansing water of her shower did no good. No matter where she went, her problems seemed to be glued to her. No amount of soap was going to wash them off.