Page 21 of A Cowboy Holiday
She pressed her nose on the window and repeated in an awe-struck tone, “Holiday Lane.”
Tanner caught my indulgent smile and responded in kind. Which made me scowl…and then he laughed. The sound echoed in the truck as I drove into town.
We passed the market, a post office, and at least half a dozen tourist boutiques. I spotted places Tanner had mentioned like Elves R Us, Donner’s Diner, Rudolph’s Fudge Shop, Vicki the Vixen’s Coffee Café and Soup Cantina, and Moody’s Marvelous Bah Humbug Bookshop. Fake webs and spiders, and witches on broomsticks were mixed with traditional holiday wreaths and garlands. The calendar claimed it was almost Halloween, but if this was a contest, Christmas was winning…hands down.
We parked on a residential street three blocks away. It was the best we’d do, according to Tanner.
Phee practically jumped out of the truck in a cotton-candy haze, wrapping her tiny fingers around mine and tugging insistently.
“Hold your horses,” I chided lightly. “We’re not in a hurry.”
“Yes, we are, Daddy! We have to see Santa!”
I didn’t argue. It seemed harmless, but?—
Shit.This was weird. What was I doing? Whatever had possessed me to agree to an afternoon with Tanner Spade? Phee was here, and I never mixed my personal life with business or pleasure. Not anymore. I wasn’t necessarily opposed to the concept. I’d simply never met anyone I’d thought might be worth the effort.
Yet here I was, waltzing up Holiday Lane with my pint-sized girl and a man who was hotter than sin.
I squeezed Phee’s hand and let her pull me along the congested sidewalk as she gaped at the sights and sounds of a wholesome fusion of spooky meets kitschy.
“See the skeleton nutcracker?” Tanner asked, pointing in a storefront window.
Phee giggled. “Ew! He has a spider hat.”
“A creepy, crawly hat. Should we see if they have one in your size?”
“No, thank you.” She bugged her eyes out, but a ghost and goblin snow globe had her attention, followed by a witch dressed like one of Santa’s elves and a display of sugar cookies shaped like Christmas trees and decorated with orange and black icing.
We popped into boutiques, checked out the toy store, bought fudge, and browsed the bookstore. And everywhere we went, folks hollered a greeting to Tanner.
“Hey, Tan!”
“How’s it going, Tanner?”
“How’re Nelly’s kids?”
Tanner waved and occasionally stopped to chat. He introduced us to shop owners, clients, friends, and a few ranchers who happened to be there for the parade.
Josh, one of the dairy farmers on staff had a daughter named Abby, who was roughly Phee’s age. Abby was dressed as Glinda. Needless to say, the girls bonded quickly, oohing and ahhing over macabre costumes and friendly ghost books on display at Moody’s store.
I might not always have much to say, but I was a keen observer. Not that it took much insight to know that Tanner was well-liked and well-respected. People sought him out to ask about the ranch, his brother, their favorite animal. The teenager behind the counter at the Holly Jolly Folly Shop had a thing for Rodney, an ornery appaloosa. The middle-aged woman who ran the ornament emporium loved the cows, especially Maud.
“It could be the name,” she admitted with an absent shrug. “My Aunt Maud was a hoot. She did cartwheels on her lawn with our children well into her eighties, if you can believe that.”
Phee and Abby chuckled, hopping like kangaroos on a sugar high. “I can do a cartwheel!”
“Me too.”
“Let’s wait till we get to the park to do gymnastics,” I suggested.
“I can take the girls now,” Josh’s wife offered, her witch’s hat tilting as she rested a maternal hand on her elder daughter’s shoulder. “If you’re okay with that, of course.”
“Yay! Please, Daddy. Can I go?”
“Uh…”
“It’s just one block over,” Josh said, bouncing a drooling toddler on his hip. “The parade starts in an hour, so there’s still plenty of time. We can meet you there or back at the bookstore. Hudson and Moody saved us a spot to watch, so we don’t have to squat at the curb to wait with squirrely munchkins.”