happen when they grew up and she’d hate to think that Travis wasn’t having a happy Christmas because she wasn’t with him.
The thought gave her a shudder.
Or maybe it was the cold seeping in under her shirt.
Twinkling lights decorated every tree and building in the town. Even the giant plaster russet potato perched on the roof of Spud Bank was awash in lights. The life-size heifer in front of Moo Creamery wore a sparkling wreath, and the twenty-foot pine tree in the town square served as a Christmas anchor for the entire festive event. It was Bella’s favorite time of the year, and she intended to spend every free minute of it surrounding herself with everything Christmas and that included Travis Granger, the one boy in the entire town who loved the magic of Christmas as much as she did.
“It’s beautiful from up here,” Travis said. “You’re so lucky to live so close to town. You can walk to all the events. I have to beg my dad or my brother Blake to drive me in. When I grow up I’m going to move off that old family ranch and live right here in the city.”
Bella slipped away from the window, walked over to her antique trunk, opened the lid and plopped down on the floor in front of it. The trunk had once been her maternal grandmother’s hope chest.
“No, you won’t. You’re a cowboy, and cowboys don’t belong in a crowded city. There’s no place to ride a horse. A cowboy belongs in the country on a ranch.”
Travis turned away from the window, closed it and walked over to her.
“Maybe I don’t want to be a cowboy all my life, especially on our ranch where most of the land is dedicated to growing potatoes. Maybe I don’t give one lick about potatoes. Maybe I want to be a carpenter or an astronaut or even a fireman.”
The very idea of Travis Granger wanting to be anything other than what he was born to be gave Bella a chuckle as she slipped a white lacy jacket over her long-sleeved red tee, then wrapped a black lace scarf that had once belonged to her mom’s mom around her neck. She’d never met her grandma, but she loved to dress up in her old clothes and loved to hear her mom tell stories of how her gram had married her grandpa when she was only fifteen because they were in love. Her grandpa was twenty-five.
Her grandma had her first baby while she was still fifteen, but it didn’t live more than a few days, her mama had told her. When Bella asked why, she’d told her he was born premature and his little lungs weren’t developed yet. Her grandma didn’t have another baby until she was almost forty-five. That baby was Bella’s mom.
It made Bella feel as though her grandma was still with her whenever she put on her old clothes.
“That’s just silly talk. Cowboy blood runs through your veins, just like it does with your dad and your two brothers. There ain’t nothin’ you can do about changing what’s already a fact.”
She grabbed her grandpa’s black felt cowboy hat that had seen better days and stuck it on Travis’s head. According to her dad, her grandpa had worn that hat to church every Sunday for as long as her dad could remember. It didn’t quite fit on Travis, falling over his ears, but when he went to pull it off he stopped and thought better of it, knowing darn well how much Bella loved playing dress-up.
He pulled out a piece of white paper from his pocket, unfolded it and showed Bella a sketch of a pretty little ranch-style house.
“Your dad and me have been working on this for a while. What d’ya think?”
“It’s pretty, but what is it?”
“It’s a house. Don’t you know anything?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course I know it’s a house. But whose is it?”
“It’s my house, or will be when I build it. Your dad is teaching me how to make things and as soon as he thinks I’m ready he’s going to help me build it. So will my dad and maybe those two cantankerous brothers of mine, if I let them. You can help, too. And you can live there if you want to. It’ll be big enough.”
“I might consider it if you build an extra room where it’s Christmas all year long, even in the summertime.”
He snorted and shook his head. “Nobody has a special room just for Christmas. It’s not practical.”
She stood holding her grandfather’s fringed jacket and motioned for him to put it on. It was way too big on him, but Bella still liked the way he looked, like a grown-up rancher going to town. She slipped on the tiara she’d won with her best friend, Jaycee, from when they were eight years old, then glided her feet into a pair of red suede heels her mom had discarded years ago, and pulled a long white skirt that matched her gram’s jacket up over her jeans.
Even though Bella was almost thirteen years old and knew other girls her age didn’t play dress-up anymore, Bella wasn’t ready to give it up. Now more than ever when her parents seemed to be arguing all the time. Sneaking up to the attic and dressing in her grandma’s clothes and making up stories about her gram and grandpa was exactly what she liked to do so she didn’t have to hear them fight.
“I’ll just have to build my own house so I can have a year-round Christmas room,” Bella announced.
Travis moved in closer to her. “You don’t know the first thing about building a house.”
“Then I’ll buy one already built with lots of rooms.”
He suddenly looked sad. “But I want you to live with me.”
“Not if I can’t have my Christmas room.”
He stepped in even closer. “You can have anything you want. I’ll build you two Christmas rooms if that’s what it takes.”
She leaned in and kissed him right on the lips and immediately felt all warm and sugary. The kiss didn’t last more than a few seconds, but she knew they’d be together forever, exactly like her grandma and grandpa.
“Okay, I’ll live in your house, Travis Granger, and you can be my boyfriend.”
A smile bigger than all of Idaho spread across his soft lips, he took his hat off, placed it over his chest, took her hand and kissed it.
Another sugary tingle zipped up her arm and this time goose bumps danced on her skin.
“I would be delighted, fair maiden.”
That’s when they heard her mom’s stern voice echo up the stairs. “Bella, I need you to come down here right this instant.”
Travis Granger stood on the snowy roof of Dream Weaver Inn, holding a string of colored lights in his right hand and a conundrum in his mind. The string of lights were easily dealt with using the hooks he’d installed on the chimney several years ago to accommodate the festive trimming, but the issue of Bella Biondi visiting Briggs after essentially a fifteen-year absence was something this ole cowboy couldn’t seem to wrangle his head around.
Despite the fact that he’d briefly seen her a couple of times in the first five years after she’d left with her mom, and never in the last ten, the memory of her had lingered like a habit he couldn’t break. None of the women he’d dated—and he’d dated quite a few—tugged on his heart like Bella did. Her dad, Nick Biondi, owner of the inn and close family friend, had kept him up to date with Bella’s accomplishments, and the occasional photograph had provided a visual record of how she’d changed from a twelve-year-old tomboy who could ride and rope better than most cowboys, into a twenty-eight-year-old real-estate mogul...a concept that tripped up his memory of her like two bulls living in the same pen.
His fondest recollection was her solid love for everything Christmas. When they were kids, Christmas and the days that led up to it had been elevated to more than just a religious holiday and a visit from the man in a red suit. It meant sleigh rides, ice-skating rinks, caroling in the park, buying or making gifts for just about everyone they