Wish Upon a Cowboy by Jennie Marts

Logan walked back to stand next to her, their shoulders not quite touching as they looked at the tree together.

“I love the star on top,” she told him. “Some people like to put an angel on the tree, but I’ve always preferred the star.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I think of the star as a promise of something amazing ahead. Like the star the wise men follow in the Christmas story. They don’t question it, they don’t second-guess it, they just believe. And it led them to everything they would ever need. They didn’t have to earn it or even deserve it. They just had to follow the star, and the promise would be fulfilled.” The lights on the tree blurred and transformed to tiny twinkling stars as she blinked back the tears filling her eyes.

“Sorry. I love the Christmas star the most, but I think stars in general are amazing. They’re so far away, and we shouldn’t even be able to see them, but we can. I think each one is like a little miracle, and maybe they shine so brightly because they hold so many of our wishes.”

She shook her head. “Gosh, that sounded so dorky. I sometimes think sappy stuff like this, but I don’t often say it out loud. I didn’t mean to get all gushy.”

“It’s not gushy at all.” Logan gazed up at the star. “We always put the star on last, but I don’t know that I’ve ever really thought about what it represents. But I like what you said, that the star is a promise of something amazing ahead.”

They were standing shoulder to shoulder and not looking at each other, but she still felt as though they were seeing each other. As though here in the glow of a hundred tiny, sparkling lights, they were each giving the other a small piece of themselves, holding it out to see if the other would take it and cherish it, or refuse it with scorn.

“I guess I’ve always thought stars represented whatever it was that you wanted,” he said. “Like your deepest desire. You know, you reach for the stars like you’re going for something you really want.” The back of his hand grazed hers, and his pinkie finger twined around hers. “We’ve always used the stars to guide us. The night sky was the original GPS. If you’re ever lost or can’t find your way, you can use the stars to lead you home.”

His words were doing nothing to quell the emotion building in her throat. She’d always loved the Christmas star, loved what it represented, but she didn’t think she’d ever said her feelings about it out loud. Or maybe she had.

Her son loved everything to do with space and the stars. She’d hoped to get him a telescope for Christmas this year. He loved to learn about the stars and the planets. One morning at breakfast, he’d told her he wanted to be an astronaut, to fly into space and be among the stars.

Harper remembered smiling and asking him why—and having her heart shatter into a million pieces when he said it was so he could be with his dad.

Thinking about Michael and Floyd and all she’d lost had pain piercing her heart. She missed them both so much. So much that she couldn’t see the right path to take or the correct choices she was supposed to make. She needed a star right now—needed something to guide her, to lead her to her deepest desire. She felt more lost than she’d ever been.

She stared into the lights of the tree and prayed for guidance and wisdom and for something to give her hope to hold on to. The ache in her chest felt as if it might turn her inside out and swallow her whole.

She started to tighten her hand into a fist and realized her fingers were now completely entwined with Logan’s. A surge of warmth had flowed through her a few seconds ago when his pinkie had gently looped around hers, but when had she taken his hand? And why was she squeezing it now as if he were the lifeline she’d been looking to cling to?

A sob threatened her throat, and she let go of his hand. She didn’t want to cling to anyone. She’d been down that road before, hanging on to other people, holding to the idea that they would save her. But there was no one to save her now. Not Michael, not her grandmother, and not the tall cowboy standing next to her.

The only one who could save her, and her boy, was her. The only one she could truly count on to come through for her was herself.

 ***

Excerpted from Wish Upon a Cowboy by Jennie Marts. © 2019 by Jennie Marts. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.