A Christmas Wedding For The Cowboy. Mary Leo

before at the rehearsal dinner, but when it came time for Kayla to get out of his SUV, she wouldn’t budge. The whole way to the church, he’d tried to convince her that Jimmy Bartley was her soul mate, but Kayla would have none of it. He’d learned long ago that once his baby sister made up her mind, nothing short of divine intervention was going to change it.

      He clearly remembered Zoe’s stunned expression when he’d driven away that morning with the bride still sitting in the backseat of his SUV, sobbing uncontrollably. In fact, he hadn’t been able to stop watching the wedding planner in his rearview mirror, noticing her shoulders slump, and her head moving from side to side in disbelief. It was almost as if their gazes were one in that frozen moment. Suddenly he wasn’t sure whom he felt worse for, his confused sister, Jimmy Bartley—patiently waiting at the altar inside the church for his beautiful bride—or their wedding planner. He knew Kayla had put Zoe Smart through hell changing her mind at least five times about every little detail.

      Since that horrible day, he had deliberately steered clear of Zoe and made up excuses to his fiancée as to why he couldn’t attend any of the meetings about their wedding. If he’d known about the meeting today, he would have done something to get out of it. Yet here he was, staring at Zoe Smart standing in his doorway.

      Whatever Marilyn Rose and Zoe planned for the wedding had always been fine with him. Carson had simply nodded and agreed whenever he was asked a question. The wedding details were his fiancée’s responsibility. His job was planning the honeymoon.

      Damn. He’d made the final payment and confirmed their two-week Hawaiian trip just last week.

      “In order,” Zoe began, “it’s now past noon, so you’re extremely late and in the realm of standing me up. I don’t usually make house calls unless I’m invited, which I was not. However, I tried calling you, but you didn’t pick up. Also, I couldn’t leave a message, because you’ve reached your limit on your cell phone. You should really take care of that. It’s annoying to your callers. I tried texting, and again no reply. You left me no alternative. You and your fiancée have to decide on your flowers for the church today or you might not be able to get what you want.” She paused a moment as if considering his appearance and foul mood. “But again, if this is inconvenient for you, I can try to hold the florist off for another day or so.”

      He stared at Zoe and smiled as he ran a hand through his tousled hair, trying to make some sense out of his mixed-up life. Normally, he would invite her inside where it was relatively warm. Unfortunately, there was nothing normal about this situation, so Carson decided to ignore his good manners and left her out on the front stoop, a condition she should be somewhat used to from their last encounter.

      “No, this is, um, convenient,” he told her, lying. It was a horrible time. The absolute worst time. There couldn’t be a more pitiful moment for his wedding planner to show up asking him to decide on flowers for the church. There would be no church. No flowers. No wedding. No bride. Just a pathetic, broken-down cowboy wondering what had happened to his promising life.

      Carson absentmindedly let out a sigh, then caught himself before he told her the truth of the matter. He wasn’t about to blurt out that his fiancée had dumped him, so the entire town would know that not only was he still home licking his physical wounds from his last competition, but the one woman he thought he’d lassoed for life had discarded him like a pair of old boots. He could only imagine all the sympathy meals and phone calls he’d get for that one. Besides, there was no way he was ready to face his family with the news, even though they’d probably be delighted. Marilyn Rose’s dour personality never did sit well with his easygoing folks and siblings.

      Nope, before he told Zoe Smart the wedding had been called off, he needed a shower, a cup of tea and a little snow blowing with Sal.

      “Let’s meet in your office in, say, three hours. Will that work?” he asked, trying to sound as positive as his muddled brain could muster.

      “That’s perfect. It will give me time to set up everything I want to show you and Marilyn Rose.”

      He started to tell her that his fiancée wouldn’t be there, but instantly changed his mind. They said their goodbyes, and as he closed the door, he hoped three hours was enough time to pull his thoughts together and prepare for the onslaught of questions he would no doubt have to find answers for during the next few weeks, leading up to Christmas Day. It wouldn’t be so bad if he hadn’t announced to the entire town last Christmas that he and Marilyn Rose were engaged and planned to get married on Christmas Day the following year.

      Her idea, not his.

      Most definitely not his.

      But now she’d called it off on the exact day he’d proposed a year ago. Dang, he would try to keep that little detail to himself.

      * * *

      “SOUNDS TO ME like you done fell into a barrel of shucks and can’t get yer’self out of the bottom of that there barrel,” Sal offered as he and Carson shuffled along behind the noisy snowblower. Carson held on to the handle and Sal directed their movement up the walkways and driveways. “You gotta start thinkin’ of how to break free of all them shucks. They’ll suffocate ya after too long.”

      The snowblower sputtered and Sal hit it with a long stick he kept handy. They methodically moved forward, pure white snow piling up along the outer edges of the sidewalk. The streets were empty, but plowed clean. Most of the cars were tucked away in garages or pulled up into the driveways so the plows had an easy time of it. Ever since Carson had moved back to town, he’d learned the rhythm of its people and tried to comply. He no longer parked his SUV on the street, pulled his garbage cans in after the trucks emptied them and had learned to be friendly to his neighbors, Sal being the result of that friendliness.

      “I wanted to work it out, but she didn’t want to hear it,” Carson said as he pushed the blower along his other neighbor’s front walkway. They’d already cleared both their own and now they were onto the rest of the block. There were ten houses on their block and it usually took them about an hour and a half to get through them all. He had a feeling today’s cleanup might take longer, but he didn’t mind. Talking to Sal was already helping his sour mood.

      “Workin’ it out with a woman who already moved on ain’t reasonable. It’s like tryin’ to convince the wind not to blow in a hurricane. Ain’t no negotiatin’ with somethin’ that already is.”

      Sal had a way of putting everything into perspective. “But I’m still in love with her.” The words came out more as a defense rather than an expression of his true emotions.

      “Is that a fact?”

      “Of course it is,” Carson insisted, even though he wasn’t sure about anything anymore, including his feelings for his now ex-fiancée.

      They walked in silence for a while, the roar of the blower drowning out any other sound. Carson favored his left leg and Sal shuffled his feet as the two men made their way up the sidewalk. They were quite the pair.

      Then Sal shook his head as if he was giving his thoughts a jump start. “Seems to me not too long ago you was tellin’ me how your feelin’s for her was slippin’ away. Now that she don’t want you no more, that love done returned? Better think what love is, son, ’cause it don’t sound as if it’s sittin’ in your heart the way it should.”

      Carson knew he hadn’t felt the same for Marilyn Rose for a long time, but he’d made excuses for it. Nothing seemed right since he’d had to step away from rodeo life. Not only had he been busy second-guessing his relationship with his fiancée, but he’d speculated on what life would be like if he never went back into an arena, never went back to rodeo. If he worked the family ranch instead. Maybe he’d had enough of saddle bronc riding, of torturing his body, of never being home more than a few weeks at a time. Maybe he needed a change. That simple thought had sent his ego spiraling downward.

      If he wasn’t a bronc rider, who was he?

      “My heart’s heavy right now, Sal. I don’t know what I want or who I love.”

      “Only