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A Covert Cowboy Christmas

By Carol James

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Rebekah stepped into her fuzzy slippers and then hung the black-sequined bridesmaid’s gown on a padded hanger.
Never wear all white or all black to a wedding.
Granny’s twenty-five-year-old admonition still resounded in her memory.
In white, you might look like you’re trying to upstage the bride, and in black, people will think you’re mourning her decision.
“Yeah, well, what about for a bridesmaid?” she muttered. “What if black’s the bride’s choice? What she wanted? Solid black.” She grabbed the pink Cinderella’s Formals garment bag and jammed the dress into it. Granny and her generation might have thought red a better choice for a December wedding, but black showed off the red roses in the bridesmaids’ bouquets…exactly as Lizzie had wanted. The zipper buzzed, its pitch rising as Rebekah jerked it upward, hiding the evidence. After all, Granny might be looking down and shaking her head. Black, white, red. People didn’t really pay attention to those outdated social conventions nowadays, anyway.
Jackson had sweetly, yet firmly, insisted she spend tonight in his house rather than having to make the long drive home after the wedding. Between Braden and him, he’d always been the more thoughtful brother. But Jen and the kids had certainly sweetened up Braden.
She stepped into the living room and draped the garment bag over the back of one of the four leather recliners. Stacked boxes of Lizzie’s stuff lined the dining room walls. A smile tugged at Rebekah’s lips. Once the happy couple returned from their honeymoon, Lizzie would spend the first few months of their marriage redecorating this man cave.
She walked back to the hall and headed toward the guest room. Marilyn jumped off one of the chairs and padded along behind her. The cream-colored golden retriever whined. Rebekah sat on the guest bed, and the dog jumped up beside her. She whined again and snuggled close.
“I know.” Rebekah scratched behind the dog’s ears and spoke in the singsong voice she reserved for babies and dogs. “You miss Jackson already. Don’t you, sweet girl?”
Marilyn placed a paw of confirmation on Rebekah’s thigh.
“Well, don’t you worry. I’ll take good care of you while your daddy’s on his honeymoon.”
The Texas December wind howled outside. Rebekah drew back the covers and slipped between the sheets. Marilyn snuggled at her feet. The temperature had already started dropping from the unseasonable warm they’d been having the last couple of weeks. Maybe having a furry foot-warmer wouldn’t be so bad tonight.
She rolled over to turn off the lamp on the nightstand, but instead she grabbed her phone. She scrolled through her photos until she found it. The picture of the six of them standing under the lilac arbor at church camp the summer after their senior year. The memory of the flowers’ smotheringly sweet perfume transported her back twenty years, awakening the past within her as if the picture were taken yesterday. The summer they’d formed the Happily Never-After Club.
They’d always been known as the brainy girls—the ones who took advanced calculus and had more time for schoolwork and each other than boys. They’d hugged and cried and vowed to the sisterhood that they’d never get married. They had too much to do. Too much to achieve. They’d be best friends for life, traveling the world together seeking fun and adventure. And for about ten years that was the case.
But then, time passed and circumstances changed. Special men came into their lives, and one by one they withdrew their vows to their friends and transferred them to their husbands. Jackson and Lizzie’s wedding tonight left Rebekah alone. The sole surviving member of the sisterhood, the death-knell being sounded by her own brother.
The photo blurred as Rebekah fought unbidden tears. For years she’d been happy, content. She’d earned every degree, achieved every goal, reached every milestone she’d set out to attain. But they no longer filled the hole in her heart. She wanted something more. Something she never thought she’d want. She placed her phone on the nightstand and turned off the lamp. Snuggling into the pillow, she closed her eyes as the tears escaped. In six months, she would celebrate her thirty-ninth birthday.
The crashing of debris pelting against the window woke her. A loud boom vibrated the entire house. Jerking up, Rebekah struggled to focus on her surroundings through the murky blackness. Lightning flashed and thunder roared again. Marilyn climbed up to the head of the bed and whimpered. Rebekah placed an arm around her. “It’s OK, girl.” December was not the usual time for thunderstorms.
She rolled over and twisted the lamp switch. Nothing. She glanced at the alarm clock. Blackness. No power.
She slipped out of bed and pulled her robe around her. The wind howled. Lightning split the darkness. Another rumble rattled the windows. Marilyn barked at the invisible intruder. “Don’t worry, sweetie.” She rubbed the dog’s head, trying to sound calmer than she felt.
Jackson hadn’t told her where he kept the flashlight or matches. Neither of those things had been on his mind as he prepared for the wedding. She fumbled around on the top of the nightstand and grasped her phone. No service. She turned on its flashlight.
Rebekah inched her way along the hall and into the living room. She peered through the panes of the French doors. Ice pellets perforated the sky, pecking against the wooden deck. She’d never seen a combination thunder and snow storm. Didn’t even know it was possible.
Lightning illuminated the landscape. A live oak was down in the yard. Lightning flashed again. Another tree lay across the grass. Thunder rolled long and loud. Lightning blazed once more. The storm had felled a third tree.
Her heart pounded. How had she slept through the earlier commotion? Fear rose up into her throat.
She made her way back to the bedroom and slipped into bed, eyes wide open. Marilyn paced back and forth in front of the doorway into the hall, alternating between rumbling a low growl and broadcasting a fierce bark. Everything would look better in the light of day…if they made it that long. Goosebumps covered her body, and her stomach churned. She drew her knees up to her chin.
Father, please keep us safe.
Rebekah began humming her go-to hymn for fearful times.
My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;
for Thee all the follies of sin I resign;
my gracious Redeemer, my Savior art thou;
if ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.

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