Paxton was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hands. “I was wonderin’ if you were goin’ to sleep all day, brother.”
Maverick put Laela in her high chair and poured himself a cup of coffee. He stopped long enough to kiss Bridget on the forehead and then went to the table and sat down. “The sun isn’t up yet. I’d be willin’ to bet that you haven’t even been to bed. You probably closed down the Wild Cowboy Saloon and then went home with some bar bunny. Am I right?”
“I was home and in bed before eleven,” Paxton said.
“Are you sick?” Maverick asked.
“Nope.” Paxton shook his head. “I was dancin’ with this pretty little brunette, and damned if Alana didn’t show up. As soon as the song ended, I started out the door and she stepped in front of me. I ran right into her. I mean, as in a physical crash that just about sent us both to the floor.”
“What did you do?” Bridget set a platter of pancakes on the table.
“I apologized like the gentleman I am and slipped on out the door. Started to go on up to the Round Up Club in Amarillo, but she goes there too sometimes,” Paxton told her. “Looks like Laela wants us to grace this food so she can eat.”
As soon as Maverick said “Amen,” Bridget asked, “How are you ever going to live here permanently?”
“I been thinkin’ about that.” Paxton passed the platter over to Bridget to serve herself first. “I’ve got until May to figure it out.”
“Tell me why you’re avoiding her.” Bridget stacked three pancakes onto her plate, covered them with warm maple syrup, and fed Laela the first bite.
“She scares the bejesus out of me, and yet there’s something between us,” Paxton answered. “I just can’t imagine being in a relationship with her. Didn’t you ever feel like that, Mav?”
“Yep, I still feel a little like that,” he admitted.
“With me?” Bridget gasped.
“Oh, yeah,” Maverick answered, honestly. “You could do so much better than an old rough cowboy with so little to his name.”
“Yeah, you could marry anyone in this part of Texas,” Paxton teased, “or me. I’m better lookin’ than Mav, and I’m a helluva lot more romantic.”
“Hey, now!” Maverick shook his fist at Paxton. “That’s no way to treat your brother.”
Bridget thought of all the times she’d bantered like that with Deidre and was suddenly homesick. It wasn’t so much for Ireland as for the friendship that would never be the same, not with Deidre gone. Maybe if she had a sibling, things would be different, but she didn’t. Maybe she would have a brother-in-law someday and a sister-in-law if Paxton ever quit running from a serious relationship—and if Maverick didn’t change his mind about buying her that plain gold band.
* * *
Maverick couldn’t have been happier than he was that Sunday morning as he took his place on the pew between his grandmother and Bridget. Paxton was sitting right on the other side of Iris, and Laela was in his lap. Talk about a Christmas miracle—it was right there in the little white church in Daisy that morning. A year ago, he and Paxton were still working on the Rocking B for the Bakers, and he had thought he’d never see Bridget again. He hated that Granny was going to an assisted living center, but he was looking forward to making the ranch into the place it used to be. Then there was the fact that Bridget had agreed to stay in Texas. Life was good, and he was a happy cowboy to have his family and, hopefully, his future family with him that morning.
The preacher took the pulpit and motioned toward the three curtains lined up across the stage. “This morning we’ll be presenting our annual Christmas program and then there will be a potluck in the fellowship hall. We’re glad y’all are all here this morning, and we’re grateful to everyone who had a hand in getting things ready for this year’s program. Now I’m going to turn this over to our choir director. Sit back and enjoy the love and joy of Christmas.”
Matt and the lady who led the singing went forward from the front pew together. She went straight to the piano, and Matt pulled the first curtain back to reveal a huge Santa Claus cutout and a row of colored bells lined up in front of it. The little kids from age three to five came down the center aisle singing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Maverick thought they were adorable, all dressed up in their Sunday best and singing, some off-key and two words ahead of the other kids. In a couple of years, Laela would be right in there with them. He could already envision her in a red velvet dress and a big red bow in her hair.
They picked up their bells as they lined up on the stage, and their teacher held up the color they were supposed to shake so that they played “Jingle Bells.” Laela’s little head bobbed to the tune. Bridget leaned over and whispered, “When she gets old enough to do that, she’ll want to ring her bell all the time, not just when it’s her turn.”
“Yep, I can see that happening,” Maverick said out of the side of his mouth.
When the children had finished, they returned their bells to where they had picked them up except for the last little boy in the bunch. He held his close to his chest and cried so hard that his mama had to go forward and rescue him, but by golly, he kept his little yellow bell.
Then Bridget and Maverick’s group marched up to the stage just like they’d practiced at dress rehearsal and sang “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town,” as the middle set of curtains opened in the center of the stage. It looked pretty fine with the new touch-up paint job on it. Bridget nudged Maverick and whispered, “They’re doing wonderful. I’m so proud of them.”
They finished their three songs and the scuffling of feet could be heard all over the church as they marched up to the choir loft and took their places. Randy, bless his heart, didn’t put his finger to his nose one time, but then Lily Rose was sitting right beside him, so he probably knew better.
The older kids came down the aisle singing “Silent Night” and took their places on the stage in front of a Christmas tree. It looked a lot better with lights and all the decorations. Without those, it had been kind of pitiful, but with a pretty star on the top and all lit up, the part facing the congregation was downright gorgeous. One of the kids did a reading from the scripture about Mary finding out that she was going to have a child.
Maverick glanced over at Bridget. What would their child look like? Would he really get a little red-haired boy? They hadn’t discussed kids, but he really wanted a big family. What if she didn’t want to have children? What if raising Laela was all she intended to do? A cold chill shot down his back. He promised himself that he would discuss it with Bridget the very first chance he got.
That group ended their part of the program with “O Come All Ye Faithful,” and again, Matt pulled the middle curtain and opened the one on the right to reveal a manger scene, complete with wise men, shepherds, and a real lamb. There was another reading and a group of young married folks gathered together on the stage to sing, “Mary, Did You Know?”
Bridget leaned over and whispered, “Will we be singing with them next year?”
“I hope so,” Maverick said and kissed her on the cheek.
After a couple more songs, the service ended with the congregation singing “Away in a Manger.” The preacher said a final prayer and everyone stood up to go to the fellowship hall.
“That was the best one ever,” Iris said as she got a firm grip on her cane. “The tree was lovely.”
“I’m glad you couldn’t see the backside of it. It was bare,” Bridget said. “We figured that the front was what was important.”
“Good thinkin’,” Iris agreed. “Let’s go have some lunch, and then y’all can take me to the ranch so I can get my afternoon nap.”
Paxton helped her get from the sanctuary to the fellowship hall while Maverick and Bridget gathered up all the toys Laela had strewn about. Maverick hung back until he and Bridget were pretty much alone in that part of the church.
“What was your favorite part of the program?”
“The little bitty lads and l
assies,” she answered, “and after that our class of kids. They did so good, even Randy. I’ve always been sad that I was an only child. I would never want to raise Laela all alone. I guess we should discuss that seriously before we make any commitments, shouldn’t we?”
“I was thinkin’ that I’d like four kids.” He smiled.
“I was thinkin’ six.” She tiptoed and kissed him on the cheek.
“Maybe we’ll compromise with five?” he said.
“Or maybe I’ll talk you into six,” she teased.
“Honey, you could talk me into a dozen. It’s harder for me to say no to you than it is for me to refuse Laela.” He held the baby in one arm and draped the other one around Bridget’s shoulders, and together they made their way to the fellowship hall.
Chapter Twenty-four
A hard wind rattling the windows woke Bridget on Christmas Eve morning. The red numbers on the clock beside her bed told her that it was five thirty. Surely the smell of tea filling her bedroom was a figment of her imagination. The other side of the bed looked and felt empty, even though she and Maverick had never spent the night together in that bedroom—not with a baby in a crib not three feet away. She sighed and got another whiff of strong breakfast tea.
She threw off the covers and got dressed. On the way to the kitchen she combed her hair with her fingers and secured her hair in a ponytail with a holder she had in the pocket of her pants. Light flowed from the kitchen doorway out into the foyer, and she could hear Iris whispering to Ducky and Dolly.
“Good morning,” she called out as she entered the room.
“Mornin’ to you. Scones right out of the oven. It sure feels good to be able to get around and do a few things.” Iris motioned toward the table. “Breakfast tea in the pot. Sit and talk to me until it’s time to get bacon and eggs ready for the boys.”
Bridget poured a cup of tea, inhaled its aroma before she took the first sip, and sighed. “Where did you get this?”
“Your nana sent me a big box of good Irish tea every year at Christmas. I kept it in the freezer so it wouldn’t go stale. This is the last of last year’s stash. Fitting, don’t you think, that I should be sharing my last pot with you on Christmas Eve morning?” Iris asked.
“I bet you’re the one who sent her American chocolates, aren’t you?” Bridget sipped her tea slowly.
Iris nodded. “It was our little tradition. I’ve got some things to say to you that is just between us girls. Have a scone while they’re still hot. I’ve already eaten two.”
Iris did not beat around the bush about anything, and she was sharing the very last of her imported tea with Bridget. That meant she was serious about what she was about to say. Bridget’s hands shook a little as she smeared strawberry jam on a warm scone.
“First thing is that I’ll need some help packing this evening. I’ve visited friends at this place, so I know exactly what my little apartment will look like, and much of my stuff will have to stay here. It shouldn’t take long.”
“Of course I’ll help you pack,” Bridget said.
“But what we need to talk about most of all is you and Maverick,” Iris said. “You two belong together, and I have every faith that someday you will be the granddaughter I never had. This is going to be your house, so move whatever you want. I already like what you did with the desk. I’d also like to see my bedroom made into a nursery for Laela. She needs a place that she can call her own from now until she grows up and leaves.”
“But, Iris, you’ll be coming home to visit, and…” Bridget grabbed a napkin from the dispenser in the middle of the table and wiped a tear.
“Yes, I am, and when I do, I’ll stay in the guest room, which is the bedroom you’re using now. I need to cut ties from the ranch and this house. It will make me happy to see Laela in that room rather than guests.” Iris laid a hand on Bridget’s arm.
“Why would you want to cut the ties?” Bridget sniffled.
“I’m bossy.” Iris smiled. “It’s just the way I am. These boys need to stand on their own two feet and run this place. They’ll make good decisions, but they’ll also make mistakes. If I was right here every day, it will never be their ranch. It will always be mine. Since my Thomas died, I’ve been lonely. I’m glad to be close to Wanda and my other friends from this area who are already at the retirement center. I’ll get to spend more time with them, and I won’t be spending nights wondering what to do with myself.”
Bridget finished off her scone and picked up another one. “Then I’m happy for you, but please know that you are welcome here anytime you want to come home, and for as long as you want.”
“Thank you, darlin’,” Iris said.
Bridget almost pinched herself to see if she was dreaming.
Iris gently squeezed her arm. “I can’t think of a better woman to take up the reins of Callahan Ranch. It takes a special kind of lady to live on a ranch and keep her man happy. I learned that when I married Thomas Callahan. It’s a wonderful life, but a busy one, and I think your nana would be happy with you making it your life. Maverick would never be happy without you, now that he’s figured things out. He’s just waiting for the right time to pop the question. Men are like that. They have to do things in their own time.” Iris removed her hand. “I hear them coming down the hall.” She cocked her head to the side. “And Maverick is bringing Laela with him.”
“How do you know that?” Bridget asked.
“He’s talkin’ to her,” Iris replied. “My body is tired and old, but I’ve still got good hearing.”
Paxton was the first one to come through the door. “Do I get a hug this mornin’, Bridget?” he teased.
Bridget blushed. “No, but Iris has the coffee already made so you can have a cup of that while I make breakfast.”
“I thought for sure I’d get a hug since it’s Christmas Eve.” He grinned.
“If you want a hug, I’ll call Alana,” Bridget shot back at him.
He laid a hand over his heart. “Ouch!”
“Looks like you done met your match, brother.” Maverick brought Laela into the room and went straight to Bridget. They shared a three-way hug and then he kissed Bridget on the cheek.
“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it in.” Iris laughed and reached for the baby. “I’ll take my morning hugs from this sweet little girl still in her pajamas.”
Maverick handed her to his grandmother. “All changed, and I would have gotten her dressed, but I didn’t know what Bridget wanted her to wear.”
“Oven omelet and toast for breakfast?” Bridget asked.
“Sounds great!” Maverick poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Paxton.
“I’m going to ride along this morning while y’all do chores,” Iris said.
“No need for you to do that, Granny.” Paxton pulled out a chair and sat down beside her. “It’s cold out there. You can stay in where it’s warm. Don’t you have packages to wrap?”
“I got that done last night, and I do have packing to do, but that can be done this afternoon. This morning, I’m going with y’all, so don’t argue with me,” Iris said, sternly.
“Yes, Mam,” Maverick agreed.
Bridget smiled and started half a pound of sausage to frying in a cast iron skillet. Someday she hoped to be every bit as bossy with her children as Iris was with “the boys,” and she also wanted to know when it was time to step down and retire. She could visualize sitting on the front porch swing with Maverick right beside her, the two of them watching their grandchildren build a snowman. She made a mental note not to lose that old hat and the scarf on the snowman still in the front yard. When the Callahan grandchildren built their snowmen, she’d bring both items for them to use again.
* * *
Maverick started to help Iris up into the passenger seat of his truck, but she shook her head. “I’ll sit in the back, and I learned how to do this by myself at rehab. Open the door for me, and I’ll show you.”
He didn’t argue but did what she said. “I
just use my cane and the handhold at the top edge of the door, like this.” Without even a wince she lifted herself up and settled into her seat and was pulling the belt around her body.
“You going to hoist bags of feed this morning too?” Paxton asked as he got into the truck.
“I could if I wanted to, but that’s y’all’s job now,” she told them. “I’m here to boss you around one last time.”
“Are you dyin’?” Maverick asked. “That’s the only time you’ll ever stop bossin’.”
“Not that I know of, but after tomorrow, this ranch is y’all’s, not only by deed but by me handing it over to you. What you do with it will be your legacy,” she said. “And there’s a few things you need to know. I’ve already given Bridget her talkin’ to this mornin’ before y’all even got out of bed.” She told them briefly what she’d said about the house.
“But I haven’t even proposed to her.” Maverick hoped to hell that Bridget hadn’t found his grandmother totally overwhelming.
“Then it’s time for you to start thinking along those lines. This is for you when you quit dragging your feet.” She passed a small velvet box over the seat.
Maverick took it from her and brought the truck to a complete stop. “If this is what I think it is, then I can’t take it. I should pick out a ring myself, and besides, she said she didn’t even want an engagement ring. She just wants a plain gold band.”
“That’s good to hear, but that ring is special, and you should give it to her when you propose. A woman needs something to show the world that she’s taken. That is the ring that your great-grandfather Callahan gave to your great-grandmother when they got engaged. It was passed down to Thomas and he gave it to me. Your father refused to give it to your mother, which is a damn good thing, since she would have probably thrown it away when he died. It’s always gone to the oldest son to give to his bride-to-be. Open the box,” she said.
Maverick flipped it open to find a gold Claddagh ring with a brilliant diamond in the middle of the heart. It would match the bracelet he had found for her at the mall perfectly. He’d only bought two charms: a Claddagh and one shaped like Texas. He’d written a note and put it inside the box saying that it was to remind her of her past and her future.
Christmas with a Cowboy Page 25
