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Christmas with a Cowboy

Page 5

by Brown, Carolyn


  The ambulance stopped and the two paramedics jumped out and swung open the door, ready to take her into the emergency room. Iris stared right into Bridget’s eyes without blinking. “I won’t let them take me out of this thing until you give me your word.”

  “I promise,” Bridget said.

  They were rolling her through the doors when Maverick and the preacher both rushed in behind them.

  “You can all wait right here. Someone will come and get you when the doctor has taken a look,” one of the paramedics said, and they pushed Iris through the waiting room and straight back into the ER area.

  Shortly after they all took a seat on the hard, plastic chairs in the waiting room, Laela began to fuss. Bridget dug around in her diaper bag for a bottle and then took the baby from Maverick. Laela hadn’t even drunk a third of the milk when a doctor came out.

  “Maverick.” He stuck out his hand. “Been a while. Seems like the last time I saw you it was to set your wrist after a bull riding event.”

  “Yep, about three years ago. How is Granny?” he asked.

  “She’s torn a couple of the staples out, and several are infected,” he answered. “If she’d been at the rehab center where I wanted her to go, we’d have already known about this. We’re admitting her for a couple or three days, and I’m going to try to talk her into going to the rehab center. But we all know Iris. She has a mind of her own. She would like to see you before we start patching her up and getting her into a room.”

  Maverick got the diaper bag. Bridget carried Laela. The preacher followed behind them as they paraded through the doors and into a curtained cubicle where Iris was lying on a bed.

  “Iris, did they give you something for the pain?” Bridget asked as she took Iris’s hand in hers.

  “Don’t worry about a thing, Granny,” Maverick said. “We’ll take care of the ranch, and we’ll bring anything you want to you. All you have to do is call.”

  “They’ve given me a shot for the pain, and it’s helping,” Iris said, “and Mav, you know how to run a ranch. So I’m not worried about that.”

  “The doctor said it’s only going to be two or three days,” Maverick said.

  “And then he wants me to go to the rehab center,” Iris told him. “I was too stubborn to do it the first time, but I don’t want to go through this again. I made up my mind. I’m going straight from here to the rehab center.”

  “I think that’s a good idea, Granny.”

  Bridget nodded. “Like Maverick said, we’ll take care of everything and have Christmas all ready for you as soon as you come back.”

  “Good. I expect y’all will get my tree up and decorated this afternoon. I want pictures of every step. Go on, now. The doctor has to get me patched up, and that pain shot is making me feel like I’ve had too much Jack Daniel’s. Besides, Laela needs to be home.”

  Bridget’s mind ran in circles as she and Maverick walked side by side to the truck. “She made me promise that I wouldn’t leave, but now that she doesn’t need me…”

  “I can keep things going on the ranch by myself, but she made us agree to help out with the Christmas stuff at church, so you’d better stick around.” Maverick took Laela from her and set the baby in her car seat. “You’d better strap her in. I couldn’t figure out all that stuff, so I just used the regular truck belt. It was only three blocks, and we had an ambulance leading the way.”

  “It’s all right.” Bridget got all the straps fastened. “So how are you with us living together in the same house?”

  “I’m fine with it. How about you?” He looked down into her green eyes.

  Her heart pounded, and her pulse raced. She hadn’t felt like that since—she tried to remember when she’d been so drawn to a man—not since Maverick had swaggered into the Shamrock Pub and flirted with her. She felt like she was sinking into his eyes as she whispered, “I gave her my word. Can we come into town and visit her often?”

  “Every day if she’ll let us.” Maverick opened the passenger door, put his hands on Bridget’s waist, and lifted her into the passenger seat. “I noticed that you had to struggle to get up into the seat when we left the ranch.”

  He’d slipped his arms around her from the back that night in Ireland, and his hands on her waist had affected her now the same way it had then. She wished that she could whip around like she had at that time, wrap her arms around his neck, and kiss him. But a year changes lives, and God only knew what all those months had really done to her and Maverick.

  “You said you gave Granny your word about stayin’? Was that why she wanted you in the ambulance?” Maverick asked when he was behind the steering wheel. “She sure changed her mind about rehab in a hurry.”

  “I have no idea if that’s why she wanted me to ride with her, but she was so insistent that I promised. Why didn’t she listen to the doctor and go to rehab from the beginning?” Bridget asked.

  “Paxton and I both tried to talk her into it, but as she said, she was just too stubborn then.”

  Maverick started the engine, backed out of the parking space, and headed toward what Bridget assumed was the ranch. She’d gotten so turned around in the ambulance that she didn’t know where she was.

  “We told her back then that we’d come take care of the ranch,” Maverick went on. “But like I said, she’s stubborn and independent. She told us that she’d have a lady here the day she went home, and our neighbor, Alana, had volunteered to stay with her until you arrived.”

  “There was no one there but Iris when I got there, and she was sleeping on the sofa,” Bridget said.

  Maverick chuckled. “She didn’t say that she’d taken Alana up on the offer, so technically she didn’t lie to me, but I’d bet my hat and boots that she stretched the truth.”

  “Sounds like my nana.” Bridget smiled. “They must’ve been cut from the same bolt of Irish plaid.”

  “You’re probably right.” He turned east out of town and she began to recognize some of the sites she’d seen on the way to church that morning. “Do you always go to church in Ireland?”

  “Nana insisted.” Bridget nodded. “It didn’t matter if I’d worked until two the night before, she would ring me up at nine and tell me to get dressed for church. She always said that working in a pub, I had one foot on a banana peel and the other one dangling over the flames of hell, and the only way I wouldn’t slip and fall right into the fire was to go to church on Sunday morning. But I’ve got to admit, my mind wandered this morning.”

  “Mine too. I heard the part about God having a plan for us all, and then I kind of blocked a lot of the rest out. What were you thinking about instead of listening?” he asked.

  “My best friend Deidre and the fun we had when we were kids,” she answered. “I really, really miss her. We were both only children and were more like sisters than simply friends. She lived with Nana’s friend who fostered a child at a time.”

  “Why didn’t that friend want to take in Laela?” Maverick asked.

  “She died two years ago, leaving Deidre with no family, not even a foster mother. All she had was me and Nana, and Jimmy. He’d been raised in Dublin in a foster home, and they met at the pub.” She paused. “What were you thinking about?” she asked.

  “I was wondering”—he shrugged—“what God has planned for me.”

  “Well, I can tell you what we’ve got planned for the rest of today. We’re going to have Sunday dinner, and then put up Iris’s tree. And we’re sending pictures to her cell phone to prove it.” Before coming to Texas, Bridget had only met Iris once and that was when she was a little girl, but Nana had talked about her a lot, especially in those last days. Knowing as much as she did about her grandmother’s best friend had helped her make the decision to leave Ireland, but getting to know Iris better the past few days had taught her that anyone would have to be bat shit crazy to cross the old girl.

  Maverick chuckled, and for a minute she thought he could read her mind. “What’s so funny?”

  �
�Granny’s fall kept me from having to answer questions about why I showed up in church with a baby in my arms, and it kept you from having to try to remember all the people’s names that she would have introduced you to.” Maverick parked in front of the house. “I’ll get the baby if you’ll grab the diaper bag.”

  Just like at church, he held Laela in one arm and carried the diaper bag with the other. “You sure look pretty today in your orange dress, and so does your mama in her green one.” He talked to the baby, but Bridget could hear him as she walked away from the truck. “Ireland green is her color with all that gorgeous red hair.”

  “Thank you, but flattery doesn’t get you any points,” Bridget threw over her shoulder.

  It did at one time. That niggling voice in the back of her head said loudly.

  But a year has passed, and I’m not that the same girl as I was back then, she argued.

  “Laela just now told me that she likes to be complimented,” Maverick said from behind her.

  She unlocked the door with the key that Iris had given her the first day she was in Texas and went inside. “And she told me that she’s got on a soggy nappy, and that she’s hungry.”

  Bridget took the baby from him. “I’ll change her and then check on the roast in the oven. Wait for me in the living room.”

  “Does Laela have to eat that nasty stuff in jars?” Maverick removed his coat and hat, hung them both on the hall tree, and followed her into her bedroom.

  “No, Laela hates it. She eats whatever I do,” Bridget answered.

  “Is that all right? I thought all babies had to eat baby food.”

  “She has oatmeal for breakfast, and I smash her vegetables and fruits. So far, I haven’t given her meats. The doctor says she shouldn’t have that until she had the proper number of teeth to chew it.” Bridget laid her in the crib to remove her coat and hat and then changed her diaper.

  Maverick reached down and picked Laela up. “Come on, pretty girl. Let’s go see if the pot roast has burned.”

  Bridget threw her coat and scarf on the bed and followed him to the kitchen. The aroma of onions, potatoes, carrots, and beef filled the room. She took the pan from the oven and set the lid aside. “This would be a nice lamb or maybe a pork roast in Ireland.”

  “We eat more beef in Texas, especially since we raise it right here,” he said.

  Laela started to squirm and lean toward the high chair. “Guess she’s telling me it’s time to eat,” Maverick said. “I like babies and little kids, but to tell the truth, I’m not too smart about all that goes on behind the scenes. I’ve never changed a diaper or fed a baby. Mostly, I just get to play with them a while and give them back to their mamas.”

  “I had to learn pretty fast.” Bridget got down the plates to set the table. “But I’d say that liking the wee ones is a good start.”

  And speaking of starts, is it possible for us to start again? Bridget wondered.

  Chapter Four

  Right after dinner, Laela started rubbing her eyes and fussing. She’d had a big morning with no nap other than the short one she’d taken in church. Maverick tried to appease her with a toy or two, but she tossed them to the floor.

  “Did I do something wrong?” he asked. “This morning she wanted me to hold her.”

  “Nap time,” Bridget said. “I was hoping she’d stay awake for the tree decorating.”

  “Why don’t you go on and get her to sleep? I’ll take care of the cleanup here, and then go get all the Christmas decorations hauled up here from the barn,” Maverick offered.

  “That would be great. She can have a little rest while we do most of the tree, then she’ll be all fresh for when we turn on the lights.” Bridget smiled as she got the baby from the high chair. “It amazed me that Iris had a crib here. She said that she borrowed them from the church.”

  “She’s got contacts everywhere,” Maverick said.

  “Well, it was a welcome sight to see that crib. I thought I might have to sleep with Laela.” Bridget headed out of the room with the baby in her arms. Just when she thought she couldn’t take another change or problem, this had popped right up. She wasn’t sure how much more she could stand. Now she had days of living in a house alone with Maverick, who’d no doubt go right back to his wild, freewheeling days as soon as Iris came home permanently. She had to hold herself at a distance or she’d go home to Ireland with a broken heart, and that on top of everything else might just break more than her heart.

  She stopped by the bathroom and washed Laela’s hands and face and then went on to the bedroom, where she sat down in the rocking chair. The baby’s little eyes fluttered shut. Dark lashes like her mama’s fanned out on her plump little cheeks, and with a long sigh, she was asleep. Bridget continued to rock her for several minutes until she gave a familiar little sigh that said she was truly sound asleep. Until that moment, if Bridget tried to put her in the crib, her eyes would pop wide open and her chin would begin to quiver.

  “Sleep, little darlin’,” Bridget whispered. “And when you awake, we’ve got a big surprise for you. I wish your mama could see your eyes when you look upon your first Christmas tree.”

  Bridget kept the tears at bay when she thought of all that Deidre would never get to experience with Laela. Life wasn’t fair to take her and her fiancé away at such a young age, but Bridget vowed that she’d do her best to tell Laela all about her mother and keep her memory alive.

  “Is she asleep?” Maverick whispered from right outside the door.

  How a man that tall could sneak up on her like that was a total mystery. Bridget nodded and stood. She laid Laela in the crib and put her favorite teddy bear close to her.

  “I’m done in the kitchen and going out to the barn for the Christmas stuff,” he whispered.

  “What should I do to get the living room ready?” She made sure when she passed by him that she didn’t touch him. Maybe if she starved the electricity between them, it would simply die.

  He followed right behind her, close enough that she got a whiff of his shaving lotion, but she was determined not to let his charm or that delicious smell deter her from her decision to steer clear of him. “If you could move that little table and the lamp”—he pointed toward the big picture window that looked out over the front yard—“over to that corner. Granny likes the tree in front of the window. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “I’ll have things ready for you.” She started toward the table but stopped midway and watched him swagger out to his truck. “Stop it! I can’t change some things, but this one I can, and I will,” she scolded herself in her Irish tongue.

  He brought in more than a dozen boxes later, including one with a picture of a tree on the front. He’d barely gotten it off his shoulders when his phone rang. He fished it out of his hip pocket, answered it, and then said, “Yes, ma’am. You are now on speaker with me and Bridget here in the living room with all the Christmas stuff around us.”

  “I want the tree up and the place all pretty even though I won’t be there. And I want y’all to go to the Rockin’ B Christmas party next Sunday evening. It’s not that much of a drive, and you can be home in time for supper,” she said.

  “Are you bossin’ us from your hospital bed?” Maverick asked.

  “If you want to call it that, then go ahead. Way I see it is that I’m directin’ you. I called to tell you that I’m in a room. I’m hooked up to an IV, and the doctor says that since I’ve agreed to go to the rehab center that he’ll let me go tomorrow evening. Don’t come see me tomorrow. I’ll be trying to get adjusted. You can come on Tuesday and Thursday this week, but I might call on the other days during the visiting hour. Other than that, they’ll have us in therapy sessions,” Iris said.

  “Granny, we will be there to see you every day,” Maverick said.

  “No, you won’t. You’ve got work to do, Christmas to take care of, and a party to get ready for a week from today. If you come any other day than what I just said, there’ll be hell to pay,”
she threatened.

  “Granny—” Maverick started.

  “I’m getting sleepy now,” Iris interrupted before he could finish. “You heard me. I will see you both on Tuesday and bring Laela. Bye now,” she said.

  She ended the call before either of them could say a word.

  “I guess we’ve got our walking orders.” Maverick put the phone back in his pocket. “I swear, she’ll still be bossin’ me when she’s in her grave.” He clamped a hand over his mouth. “I’m so sorry. That was insensitive of me to say something like that when your grandmother has just passed away.”

  “But it’d be the truth.” Bridget nodded. “Nana still bosses me from the grave. She just pops into my head at the craziest moments. Sometimes I think she’s right behind me.”

  “My grandpa does that,” Maverick admitted.

  “It’s the way we cope with losing them.”

  * * *

  Maverick could feel Bridget’s vulnerability in that moment. Her eyes were brimming with tears that she wouldn’t allow to flow down her cheeks, and her face was a study in absolute sadness. She’d had so much happen in such a short time, and now there was still yet another change. He’d like to have a second chance with her, but not at the expense of breaking her.

  Are you ready to be a father? His grandpa’s voice was loud and clear in his head.

  Maverick couldn’t answer the question. He liked holding Laela, but he could always give her back to Bridget when she got fussy or needed a diaper change. To take on that responsibility full-time—he wasn’t so sure that he was ready for that. Why did life have to be so damned complicated, anyway?

  Bridget opened the first box and pulled out a gold garland. “Does this go up first or the lights?”

  “Lights first.” Maverick opened a second box. “And then the garland. Did you help your grandmother put up a tree?”

  Bridget opened the box with the lights. “Every year, but we usually bought a real tree. It wasn’t very big, though. I kept a lot of the ornaments.”

  “Where are they?” Maverick asked.

 

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