“Really?”
He nodded again.
“Travis’s sister has been staying at your house for nearly four days?”
He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t smile. Vy sure did like to dig for information.
“Like pulling teeth,” she mumbled, disgruntled. She pointed to Travis and asked Michael, “Is she as pretty as this cowboy?”
Michael nearly laughed as Travis’s cheeks turned bright red. What man wanted to be called pretty? What cowboy would tolerate it?
The longer Vy watched Michael, though, the more his own discomfort grew. Travis was a good-looking guy, but his sister had him beat in that department by miles.
As Michael had noticed multiple times every day since Samantha’s arrival, she had a beauty unrivaled outside of pageants and Hollywood.
“Uh-huh, Vy,” Mick piped up. “She’s the prettiest woman on earth.”
Maybe she was, Michael agreed. Probably.
He felt his own cheeks redden.
“Ohhhh,” Vy said, infusing the simple word with all kinds of innuendo while his blush deepened. “That pretty, huh?”
Michael scowled. “Enough, Vy. Cut it out.”
Ten years younger than him, she would have been too young to remember what happened with his mother and sister.
His mother, with a fading beauty of her own, had been living out her onetime dream of stardom through her beautiful daughter.
Vy would never understand his aversion to beauty. She would only think his problem was that he was too attracted to Samantha.
Well, that was true, too, wasn’t it?
Vy only laughed at his surliness. His bad humor slid from her like water off a chestnut’s hide.
Relief came from an unexpected corner. His son. “She showed us how to make up plays.”
“Plays?” Vy softened her attitude and said, “Imagine. She did a good job teaching you, did she?”
Vy could be a PITA in many ways, but she was truly kind to children. When Mick smiled proudly, Michael could have kissed the woman.
Putting on her waitress hat, Vy took their orders of pie, coffee and glasses of milk and left.
Michael listened to Jason and Colt bringing Travis up to date on all of their adventures since arriving at his ranch. He stared out the window.
Main Street slowly began to fill with people happy to be out after the enforced isolation of the storm.
As always, the town filled him with pride, or happiness, or a fair blend of both.
He knew every shop owner in town. Across the road, Jorgenson’s Hardware and Hiram’s Pharmacy and the only hairdressing salon in town, Nelly’s ’Dos ’n’ Don’ts, came to life.
Pickup trucks lined the curbs. This was a ranching community, and vehicles needed to do more than provide just transportation.
Townspeople sported plenty of leather cowboy boots and shearling coats and fur-based felt cowboy hats. Put that in your pipe and inhale, city girl Samantha Read.
He knew his surliness was a ploy to create the distance he was going to need to say goodbye to a pair of great kids and a woman he was starting to admire.
There was something to be said for self-defense.
This was ranching country. Samantha had come to the wrong place if she wanted to judge anyone who ate meat and wore animal products.
Let it go, he scolded himself. There would be time enough for grief and self-defense in the morning.
He realized Travis was staring at him.
“What?”
“I just asked what was happening with Samantha’s car. Can she drive it to my house?”
Michael shook his head. “I called Artie Hanson about towing it to the garage, but he’s got his hands full. Likely won’t get out my way until tomorrow.”
Travis’s shoulders slumped. “I thought maybe she could come today. I’ve been waiting a long time for her and the boys to move in.”
He brightened. “What am I thinking? I can come get them. The roads to my place are cleared. You just made it into town. No reason why I can’t come out and get Sammy when we finish up here.”
Mick asked, “Get Sammy?” He edged closer to his dad.
“Yeah, Mick. We knew they’d be leaving.”
“But what about our celebration?”
“We’ll have to have her and the boys out to the house another time. Okay? Travis wants them to come home with him now.”
Why are you feeling so blue, Moreno? You wanted her gone from the moment she first set foot in your house.
“I don’t want her to go,” Mick said much too loudly. “She’s fun.”
“Samantha has to go,” Michael said. “She came here to live with Travis.”
“Jason and Colt, too?” Mick asked, peeved and not bothering to modulate his tone.
“Yep. Them, too.”
Mick’s expression turned mulish. A good kid, he had his stubborn side.
Travis watched the children with sympathy. “Y’all can come visit anytime you want.”
“Yeah,” Colt said. “Mick is my best friend. He has to come visit.”
“Colt is my best friend, too,” Mick said.
“It’s a done deal,” Travis said. “Give them a few days to settle in and then come visit.”
Food arrived and everyone ate, but the mood had shifted. Samantha’s kids seemed to have mixed feelings, happy to see their uncle at last, but already missing their new playmates before they’d even officially left them.
Michael’s son was already missing the activity and vitality Jason and Colt had brought. He corrected himself almost immediately. The vitality was all Samantha.
Jason asked Travis, “How’s your horse, Dusty?”
“Good. I checked him on the way into town. He’s as restless as all the humans who’ve been snowbound by the storm. I need to get him out.”
“I can help you feed him and brush him. You should see Michael’s stable and his beautiful horses. Is your stable as big as his?”
“I don’t have a stable yet. I have to build one in the spring.”
Jason furrowed his young brow. “So where’s Dusty?”
“Stabled at the Double U where I work.”
“Oh.” Jason deflated. “I thought he was at your house.”
“We can stop in on him on the way home, if you like.”
“’Kay.” Jason started talking then about Michael’s horses, naming each one and listing each unique characteristic. He rambled on about the work he’d been helping Michael with every morning, ending with, “We polished a bunch of tack, too.”
Travis said, “Hey, that’s great,” but he looked vaguely annoyed.
When the man glanced at Michael, it struck him what the real problem was. Travis was jealous of the time Michael had had with the boy.
Nature and fate had conspired to put Travis’s relatives in Michael’s home when he didn’t want them, and had deprived Travis of their first experiences in their new town.
There wasn’t a damn thing either man could do about it.
After all of the pie was consumed, they paid and stepped outside the diner.
“How about if Jason and Colt ride with me and we’ll come out to your ranch to get Samantha?”
“Now?”
What was the rush?
“Well, yeah,” Travis responded. “Might as well. I’m here with the truck. I can fit them all in and put their luggage in the bed.”
“Sure.” Michael shrugged. “Could be done.”
“Where are you parked?”
Michael gestured toward the black pickup at the far end of the street.
“I’m at the other end. Let me pull up behind you and follow you out.”
“Colt’s booster seat is in my truck.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got one in mi
ne for Rachel’s daughter.”
Michael took Mick’s hand and headed for his truck, while Travis took his nephews in the other direction.
To his shame, Michael drove home with a lead foot, on some level hoping he’d lose Travis, he guessed.
He shook his fool head.
What’s that about, Moreno?
He slowed down.
At the ranch, he pulled up in the driveway and left Travis plenty of room to park behind him.
Travis and the boys followed him into the house.
It was quiet, too quiet, the way it used to be before these people barged in. It had become full of noise and energy and life.
The house smelled like cinnamon and apples and hominess. Their days of enforced isolation had felt long at times, but now seemed like they had barely started, as though they had been a dream. He knew he would miss them.
Jason called, “Mom, we’re home and we have a surprise for you.”
“What?” she called back, but to Michael’s ear, something was wrong. He wasn’t the most sensitive man around, but he knew when a woman sounded...off.
“What is it?” she said from the kitchen.
Samantha had a great voice, mellow and sexy, but she didn’t sound like herself just now.
“Come here,” Jason said. “You have to see.”
She stepped into the hallway, looking a little sad. Worried about leaving? As he was worried about her having to leave, even though he shouldn’t?
Then Samantha saw her brother and her face lit up like a hundred-watt bulb. The contrast hit Michael hard, even if she really meant nothing to him.
“Travis,” she squealed, and threw herself into his arms. “I missed you. Oh my God, I missed you.”
He spun her around. “Hey, sis. Good to see you.”
Her voice, muffled against his shoulder, didn’t sound right. Michael thought maybe she was crying.
His throat hurt, filled with an unaccustomed envy. He’d thought he used to have that kind of warm relationship with his little sister, but then she’d left without a backward glance. Was she even alive?
He should be happy for Travis and Samantha, because they seemed like decent people, but this was hard to watch.
He started to sidle into the living room, but Samantha turned to him. “Wait, please.”
Glancing back, he asked, “Me?”
“Yes. We need to talk.”
Talk? About what? He’d thought they were getting along. “What did I do?”
“Christmas,” she whispered.
Christmas? He stiffened. He didn’t do Christmas. Ever. Never again. Lillian had died just before Christmas. No. No Christmas. “What are you talking about?”
“You can’t guess?” She looked sad and reproachful.
“I’m not a mind-reader.”
“Hey, Sammy,” Travis said. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if there’s a problem with you staying here any longer, no worries.”
Samantha turned her baby blues on her brother.
“What do you mean?” she asked Travis.
“I came to take you and the boys home.”
“Home?” She seemed disoriented.
“Yeah. To the house I bought for you. For us.”
“Oh. That home.” She didn’t sound too excited about it.
Travis hesitated. “Are you okay, Sammy?”
“Um...” She twisted her fingers. “I know you’ve waited a long time to show me the house, but I can’t come right now.”
“You can’t come?” Travis sounded like a kid who’d lost his favorite toy. “But... But why not?”
Samantha pointed toward Michael and his two kids, who were both clinging to her legs. “Because of them.”
No. No. Whatever she had in mind, just no. Whatever she was about to do would hurt him. He felt it in his bones.
“Wait a minute.” Michael was overreacting. He didn’t know what she was planning, but damn. She’d said Christmas. He couldn’t catch his breath. He pushed against whatever was going on in her head.
Forcefully, he said, “I didn’t do a darn thing to you other than take you in when you needed help. Don’t interfere in my life.”
“Don’t yell at my sister,” Travis shouted.
Lily burst into tears.
Samantha picked her up and rubbed her back. “Shh. Shh.”
She raised a hand palm-out to the men and apologized. “I’m handling this badly.”
“What is it, Sammy?” Travis asked quietly.
“I can’t leave yet because...”
Michael watched Samantha as she seemed to gather her resources, or courage, or something.
“I need to stay a little longer, another week, because...” Again she hesitated and then blurted, “This family needs me.”
Chapter Ten
Stunned, Michael could only stare. What was she talking about? They didn’t need her. He didn’t need her.
Doubts niggled at him, though. Hadn’t he stepped into this house not ten minutes ago and thought it was too quiet?
Hadn’t he dragged his heels walking in knowing that soon those two great kids and their mother would be walking out?
No. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t need them. Couldn’t need her.
He turned his back on Samantha and stormed into the living room.
He heard her say quietly, “Travis, I’m so sorry. Please trust me on this?”
Travis mumbled something, but Michael didn’t catch it.
No wonder. He could barely hear a thing over the roaring in his ears.
Who did Samantha think she was to force herself onto him and his children for another week? He hadn’t invited her. She hadn’t asked. She’d made the decision on her own, meddling yet again.
Both of his children suddenly cheered. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t forcing herself on them. They were happy she was staying.
But didn’t he get a say in this?
Then her children cheered. He didn’t know what she was saying to them other than that it was good news. For them. For him it meant another week of wrestling with demons.
All too aware that this would merely delay the inevitable heartache, he thought maybe they all needed to rip this bandage off and say goodbye today. This very minute.
There was more whispered conversation, but Michael didn’t catch it. Nor did he care about it.
He had half a mind to confront her, to boot her out of his house. Got that? he thought. His house. Not hers. She should have no control over what went on here.
He heard the front door open and close. He heard the children whispering. He heard her voice, soft and husky now, talking to them.
He tapped his knuckles on the fireplace mantel, working hard to control his anger. Control was paramount. It kept him whole and calm. When he had control, his life made sense.
And suddenly Samantha was behind him. He hadn’t heard her enter the room. He sensed her, though. She was there now, not speaking, and barely breathing.
He didn’t know how he could be so aware of her, so in tune with her presence. Where this woman was concerned, he was like a divining rod drawn to water.
“Why didn’t you give your children a Christmas celebration?” she asked softly.
There was not one ounce of reproach in her voice, but guilt hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. He’d known it wasn’t fair, but selfishly he’d wanted to ignore the season. His pain and his grief and his despair had clouded his judgment.
He’d thought his children were young enough not to know the difference or what they were missing. He’d been wrong. So damned wrong.
But he didn’t need this woman, this stranger, to rub his face in his failures.
He loved his children and they loved him. Period.
“Would you tell me what happened?” Th
ere was a soft plea in her voice. “Please?”
What? Bleed here in front of her? Slit his wrists and expose three years of agony?
He didn’t respond.
“Why don’t you celebrate Christmas?”
“Let it go,” Michael said through a constricted throat.
No Christmas talk. No sorrow. Leave it buried where it belongs.
“Why not celebrate for the children?”
“That’s enough,” he shouted and stormed from the room.
“Daddy? Daddeeeeee,” Lily wailed from the hallway and ran after him. He heard Samantha hushing the child. He hoped she was holding her.
He couldn’t. He’d reached his limit. He’d given and given and given of himself until he’d bled. He’d nursed his wife himself. He’d done the foulest jobs because he loved her. He’d held her when she was nothing more than skin and bones. How much was a man supposed to bear, for God’s sake?
“Shh. Shh. Everything will be okay.”
Even from back here staring out to his yard and outbuildings, he could hear Samantha’s voice and it pained him.
He should be the one comforting his children.
* * *
WHEN THE CHILDREN calmed down, Samantha set Lily on her own two feet and stood. “Jason, go to the kitchen and get snacks for you and the children. Ask the younger ones to set the table. Make sure you each get a couple of cookies. Okay?”
“Sure, Mom. Want me to get the rest of the groceries from the truck first?”
She nodded.
Only after all of the children were in the kitchen did Samantha look for Michael. She didn’t have to go far.
He stood at the end of the hallway, in the mudroom, at the back door with one hand high on the doorjamb and the other tucked into his pant pocket.
His shoulders were rigid.
He stared outside. What did he see? A winter wonderland? Or was his vision turned inward, to the dark internal hell of his lovely wife’s death?
“Are you all right?” she asked quietly. Now that she’d seen the photographs of his wife and witnessed the depth of his love for her, his reactions made sense.
There was only one option now and that was to push through with her plan, but her heart pounded.
“I’m a good father.” He sounded belligerent, but also like maybe he was trying to convince himself.
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