“You can pray for me.” He groaned. “I need sleep.”
“You should have thought of that before you got drunk. Put on your boots and coat and go feed the cattle. I’ll have a cure ready for the hangover when you get back.” She put her hands on his chest and shoved him toward the door. “And if you’ll remember, we have that ranch party to go to after church.”
“Can’t I even have a cup of coffee first?” he asked.
“No, you may not. If you want to get over this thing, you have to do things in the right order. Now get out. I’ve got things to do before we go to church,” she said.
“You’re downright mean,” he muttered as he shoved his arms into his old work coat.
“And you smell like you fell into a barrel of liquor,” she said. “Go before I change my mind about giving you my special cure.”
He jerked on his boots, grabbed a hat, and said, “I don’t need your damned old cure. I just need coffee and sleep.”
“Well, you are not getting either,” she told him.
He groaned and muttered through the morning chores and shielded his aching eyes from the bright sun when it rose up over the eastern horizon. He vowed if he never saw another bottle of Patrón or Jim Beam, it would be too soon.
When he got back to the house, he kicked off his boots at the back door, hung up his coat, and moaned all the way to the table. He didn’t even look at Bridget but sat down beside Laela and said, “Baby girl, don’t ever get drunk. The aftereffects are hell.”
Bridget threw a couple of pieces of bacon in a cast iron skillet, and the smell gagged him even worse than the doggy breath had done. While that cooked she handed him a banana and a bottle of some kind of orange drink.
“You’ve got to be kiddin’ me,” he growled.
“The orange stuff has electrolytes in it. It’s probably not as good as what I can buy in Ireland, but it’s what I give Laela. The banana has potassium. Get after them. When you get them down, I’ll have the bacon and fried eggs ready,” she told him. “And Maverick, this is the one and only time I will help you get over a hangover, so either remember the order of things, or suffer next time.”
“You really are mean,” he said.
“I am stating facts. Take it or leave it—makes no difference to me,” she said. “I do not abide men who get drunk because they’re angry.”
“Not even your precious Sean?” he asked.
“Not even Sean. If he gets drunk because he is having a good time, that’s one thing, but to go off in a fit of anger is a different thing. Grown-ups don’t go off in a fit and get drunk. They talk things out,” she said.
More of that talk crap—how could he tell her what he was battling when he couldn’t make up his mind about a damn thing? He thought for sure he’d throw the banana and that awful-tasting orange drink up, but it went down fairly smoothly.
She set the plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. “Eat that and then you can have some coffee. By the time you take a shower and we get to church, you’ll feel better. And, Maverick, I’m struggling with decisions too, but I’m willing to talk about them.”
She took Laela from the high chair. “Finish your food. We’ll be ready to go by the time you are. Meet you in the living room.” She carried the baby toward the bedroom.
“I don’t even know where to begin to put what’s in my heart into words,” he whispered.
Chapter Fifteen
Maverick was amazed at how much better he felt when he’d had a shower. Maybe Bridget did have a magic hangover cure. He whistled the tune to “All I Want for Christmas Is You” while he ran his electric razor over his face. He splashed on aftershave and opened the bathroom door a crack to peek out. The coast was clear, so with nothing more than a towel around his waist, he hurried to his bedroom.
He pulled the cleaner’s plastic from a pair of jeans and a white pearl snap shirt, and got dressed. As he was combing his hair he noticed something shiny in the reflection of the mirror above the dresser. He laid the brush down and picked up the tiny Christmas tree earring that he’d brought with him from Ireland. He wondered if Bridget even remembered that she’d lost it on that unforgettable night back in Ireland. For nearly a year it was all he had of her, but now she was here in the flesh, and to tell the truth, it scared the bejesus out of him. What if he talked her into staying in Texas, and then she was miserable? What if they got married—surprisingly enough the idea didn’t give him hives—and in a few months she hated him for not being able to send her back to Ireland for visits?
Granny had come to Texas and made a life here. He kissed the little shamrock at the top of the earring and put it back on the dresser. “I’m not sure I’d know what to do with your heart either, darlin’, not the way things are, but if you’d trust me, I’d do my best to make you the queen of mine.”
* * *
Bridget got the baby dressed first and put her in the crib. She flipped through the few dresses she’d brought from Ireland and finally pulled out the same outfit she’d worn to her grandmother’s funeral—a little emerald-green velvet dress that skimmed her knees. She’d only brought one good pair of shoes with her—black high heels, so they would have to do. Iris had told her a couple of days ago that they would go straight from church to the ranch party. According to her, there would be a big buffet of barbecue and all kinds of desserts.
She twisted her red hair up on top of her head and held it there with a clasp that had belonged to Nana’s mother. Then she opened a small pouch of jewelry—the only really good piece was a vintage ruby pendant on a fine gold chain that had also belonged to the great-grandmother that Bridget had never met. She fastened it around her neck and turned to face Laela.
“What do you think, lassie? The necklace really doesn’t go with the green dress, but red and green are Christmas colors, so I think I’ll wear it anyway. It doesn’t matter what I look like anyway. You will steal the whole show today in your pretty dress.” She turned back to look at her reflection in the mirror and then picked up a single earring—a tiny Christmas tree with a shamrock at the top rather than a star. “I wonder where the other one got to?”
As she looked at it a shiver danced down her spine. The Texas flag had one star on it, like what was on the Christmas tree in the living room. The Irish were known for their shamrocks like the one Nana always put on the top of her tree. Which one would her nana tell her to decorate with next year—shamrock or star?
She took Laela from the crib, picked up the well-stocked diaper bag, and opened the bedroom door to find Maverick leaning against the doorjamb.
“You scared the hell out of me,” she gasped.
“I was just about to knock and ask if you needed any help.” His eyes started at her feet and traveled to her hair and then back down to her eyes. “You look gorgeous. That’s the color of the sweater you wore that night in Ireland.”
“Thank you,” she said. “You look pretty fine yourself.”
She was frozen in place. She wanted to take a step forward, but she was afraid to blink for fear he’d disappear, then she remembered the argument they’d had. The way he’d stormed out and gone to a pub, come home drunk, slept on the sofa, and gotten up grouchy.
“We should be going. It’s a sin to be late to church, and we’ve got to teach Sunday school before that.” She pushed past him.
When they reached the foyer, he put on his fleece-lined suede jacket and settled his black hat on his head. Bridget was almost ashamed of her coat. It was so plain compared to her fancy little dress, but it was what she had, so it would have to do.
“Beautiful,” Maverick said.
She whipped around to see who he was talking about, and their eyes met. Time stood still, and the world stopped turning, but only for a second. Laela squirmed and wanted down, so he stood up with her and the moment was gone.
“Are we okay?” he asked on the way to his truck. “Or are we still arguing?”
“An argument is something where a resolution can be reached if b
oth parties are willing to compromise. So since you won’t talk, I guess we are.” She opened the truck door, and together they got the baby into her car seat.
“That’s a lot of big words for a plain old rancher like me to understand.” Maverick closed that door and opened the one for her. He slipped his hands around her waist and lifted her up into the seat. “Those shoes would make it hard for you to get into the truck.”
“Thank you.” She waited for him to get into his seat before she said, “And I will be hearing no more of that crap about you being a plain old rancher. You are smart, sweet, and kind, and you understood what I said perfectly.”
He laughed. “You’ve got my number. I can’t even play the underdog with you, can I?”
“No, you can’t,” she said.
They made it to Sunday school, and afterward headed on into the church to the pew where Iris had previously sat. The people were still milling around, finding seats and trying to get settled, when Alana slid in beside Bridget.
“How did you ever get Maverick to come to church? I know he’s got a helluva hangover,” Alana whispered.
“You were there?”
Alana nodded. “I made sure that he didn’t drive home drunk. For your information, he didn’t even look at another woman the whole evening. I’m surprised that he was able to get out of bed this mornin’.”
“I gave him my hangover cure, and it was good enough for him to have to come teach Sunday school this morning,” Bridget said out of the side of her mouth. “But I’m praying that the singin’ will be real loud this morning to teach him even a bigger lesson.”
Alana stifled a giggle.
The preacher stepped up behind the pulpit and the noise level went from a good eight to a one in about a second. “I want to thank Alana, Matt, Bridget, and Maverick for getting the curtains all mended and up for next week’s program. I understand that the props will be set in this weekend and we’ll be ready for the program to be presented on Sunday. I also need to thank all the Sunday school teachers, including Bridget and Maverick, who are stepping in for Miz Iris, for working all month on their classes for the upcoming presentation. I understand that the Sunday school class who went to the nursing home yesterday was a big success, and that the teenage group will be going to the rehab center this afternoon. We’re all right proud of our youth. Now I’ll turn this over to our choir director and we’ll have a couple of congregational songs before the sermon.”
All through the singing and the service, Bridget worried about whether she might be overdressed. Alana wore a denim skirt, a red sweater, and cowboy boots that morning. If that’s what she planned to wear to the party that afternoon, then Bridget really should go back to the house and change into something less formal.
Finally, after what seemed like two hours instead of thirty minutes, the preacher called on someone to give the benediction. When the final amen was said, Bridget asked Alana, “Are you wearing what you have on to the ranch party?”
“Nope, I’ve got a cute little red satin cocktail dress, but, honey, it was cut way too low to wear to church,” Alana answered.
Bridget heaved a sigh of relief. “I was afraid I was overdressed.”
“You look great. I’m going to run by the house and change. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I hear Emily is coming, so you’ll want to meet her for sure. You’ll love her. See you in a little while. I’m going to sneak out the back door.” Alana waved as she hurried over to the far end of the pew and disappeared behind the curtains that had been hung for the program.
* * *
Maverick had told her she was gorgeous, but when they arrived at the huge ranch house, just walking into the foyer intimidated her. Nana always told her to hold her head up and not let anyone make her think less of herself, so she tried but wasn’t so sure she could pull it off. She and Maverick were standing in a foyer as big as her entire flat over in Ireland. There was a curved staircase on either side that led up to a second floor. A huge credenza decorated for Christmas with a large mirror above it was situated between the two staircases. A sitting area on the other side had a small settee and two matching deep red velvet chairs. It was like a rich and famous house featured in a magazine.
Suddenly, Bridget fully understood exactly what Alana was talking about. This was where Tag and Hud had grown up, and even though they were Maverick’s good friends, she could see where he would feel like the country cousin. A lady appeared from the end of the area, took their coats, and disappeared down a long hallway with them.
So many people!
That’s all Bridget could think when she and Maverick reached the living room.
“I’ll have to be careful to not let you out of my sight tonight,” Maverick said. “Every bachelor in this place will want to run away with someone as gorgeous as you are.”
“Oh, stop it.” She sighed. “I’m plain compared to other ranch women. Look at them in their fancy dresses.”
“Darlin’, you’d look good in a feed sack dress tied up around your tiny waist with a piece of rope,” Maverick said.
Alana took her by the arm before he could say anything else. “Come with me. Emily is dying to meet you.”
“What if Laela…” she started.
“Laela and I are fine,” Maverick assured her. “I’ll just take her around and show her off a little.”
“Are you sure?” Bridget asked. “I could take her with me.”
“I’m positive. We may get us a plate of food and find a corner. Don’t worry. I won’t feed her anything that you wouldn’t,” he said.
Alana slung an arm around her shoulders and led her through the dining room, where caterers were serving barbecue with all the sides. “We’ll eat later. Right now let’s get out of this crowd. It’s always like this for about an hour, and then it’ll thin out. I grew up with these parties, but all these people still make me claustrophobic.”
“I didn’t think anything would make you nervous. You always look so poised and classy,” Bridget said as she weaved among the people.
“Well, thank you, ma’am, but I never felt like that in my life. I was always the tallest kid in class, and it took a long time for me to get comfortable in my skin.” Alana went past the open door into the kitchen and rapped on the next one.
“Y’all come on in,” a voice called out.
They went into an office. A desk was set so that whoever was working could look out a glass wall over a flower garden. It would be beautiful in the spring, but right then the only things growing in it were a few pansies.
“Hello, Bridget. I’m Emily.” A tall pregnant woman stood up and stuck out her hand.
Bridget shook hands with her. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Where’s the baby that Iris has told me all about?” Emily asked.
“Maverick is showing her around right now,” Bridget answered. “I hear that you have a wee babe coming into your family.”
Lord, please don’t ever let her and Retta know what I thought about them and Maverick, she sent up a silent prayer.
Emily laid a hand on her stomach. “Yes, and Justin and I are so happy about it. God, I hate these big parties, but my grandmother insists that I come every year.”
“You really don’t like this kind of thing?” Bridget asked, amazed that a woman who grew up in this house wouldn’t love to dress up and go to parties.
“It’s a ranchin’ wife’s job,” Alana said. “And if you’re the daughter of a rancher, you have responsibilities too.”
“I don’t want to talk about parties.” Emily grinned. “I want to hear about you and Maverick. I need some good juicy details to take back to Sunset with me.”
Bridget felt the blush start on her neck and travel all the way to her cheeks. “We’re friends—at least I think we are—we argued last night and he went to the pub—no that would be the honky-tonk here in Texas—and he got drunk off his arse.”
“Well, that’s a good sign.” Emily was beautiful, but when she smiled the whole room
lit up.
“How in the bloody hell could it be a good sign?” Bridget asked.
“It means that he feels something for you, and he’s fightin’ it. Men are like that. I have three brothers, and I saw Tag act the same way this past summer,” Emily said.
Maverick poked his head in the door. “The baby won’t eat for me. Emily!” He came on in the office and crossed the room to hug her. “I’ve been trying to find you, so I could show off Laela to you.”
“You know how I hate crowds.” She hugged him and the baby together. “Now step back and let me look at this child. Oh, I hope I get one that looks like her.”
“You might. Justin has dark hair.” Maverick smiled.
Emily let out a long sigh and swept the tail of her long green dress to the side. “I’d rather stay in here and talk to you girls all afternoon, but Granny will have my hide tacked to the smokehouse door if I’m not social. Bridget, we’ve got to get better acquainted. I’ll give you a call when I get back to Sunset.”
“I’d love that,” Bridget told her.
Alana followed her. “I’m going to get out there and see if I can find a good-lookin’ cowboy who likes big girls.”
“You’re not big, honey.” Emily slung her arm around Alana’s shoulder. “I’m the plus-size girl. You’re just tall.”
They slipped out the door, and Maverick’s grin got bigger and bigger until finally he chuckled. “Looks like you girls were having a good time. Did you tell her that you thought she was having my baby?”
“I did not! And don’t you dare tell that either. I would be mortified,” Bridget said.
“I’m going to leave the baby in here with you.” Maverick put her on the floor. “I’ll go get y’all a plate fixed and bring it in here. She’s hungry, but with so many people around to get her attention, she won’t eat. What do you want?”
“Just fix it, and I’ll eat it,” she said.
“All right then. Be back in a minute.” He smiled.
Christmas with a Cowboy Page 16
