A Cowboy for Christmas

by Rachel Lee

  And what if the child decided to try it? Abby shuddered at the risks.

  A knock on her doorframe alerted her. She looked up and smiled, waving Rory to come in. He perched on the couch as always, elbows on his knees. He still looked tired, too, and while he’d cleaned up earlier, going out to run with dog had left him looking a bit rumpled. His shirt was half-untucked and his hair was ruffled.

  “That was my lawyer,” he said without preamble.

  “I figured you’d called him earlier. Can I say I’m still in shock?”

  “You’re not the only one. I lived with that woman and I didn’t think she was that careless or stupid.”

  Abby just shook her head. She seemed to be running out of emotions. Maybe she was stuck in some kind of shell shock after all of this. “Dangerous” was the only word she could utter. “Was your lawyer helpful?”

  “He said—” He broke off as the phone rang. “Damn, how is that girl going to rest?”

  “Here.” Abby passed him her extension.

  He looked at the caller ID. “Stella.” For a second he looked as if he wouldn’t answer, then his face changed drastically. “Regina picked it up.”

  He took off like a shot, and Abby wasn’t far behind him. They both arrived in the living room in time to hear Regina say, “My home is here now, Mom. Sorry if you don’t like it. If you try to take me away again, I’ll tell a judge about your cocaine. About how you fired one of my nannies because she got into your stash.” A minute of silence. “Did you think I was deaf, dumb and blind because I was a kid? Well, I wasn’t. So don’t try to take me away.”

  Then Regina punched the off button and sagged. Rory went to her instantly, taking the phone from her limp hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t get it first.”

  Regina’s eyes popped open. “I’m not. I needed to say it.”

  He perched next to her on the couch. “You didn’t have to get in the middle. My lawyer was handling it. Oh, God, sweetie, I didn’t want you in the middle. You’re too young.”

  “Which is why I wound up with her last time. Well, I’m not going back, and I’m not too young to know who’s good for me. Just do me one favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Let me sleep. And make Abby my stepmother for Christmas.” Then she dozed off again.

  Silence filled the room like concrete. Almost unable to breathe, Abby hurried down the hall to her bedroom. Once there, she closed it, leaned back against it and wondered what she was supposed to do now.

  Any line-crossing they’d been worried about had just been utterly and completely crossed, putting Rory on the spot in a terrible way. She doubted she’d be able to look him in the eye again for a long time.

  The worst of it was, Regina had just voiced the deepest of her desires, one she had been hiding from herself.

  She wished the earth would open and swallow her.

  Some time later, she heard a knock on her door. She was still leaning against it, and felt it almost as much as she heard it. Rory, being quiet in case she was sleeping.

  She desperately wanted to pretend to be asleep, but she was realistic enough to know that postponing this conversation wasn’t going to make anything any easier.

  She gathered her courage, feeling like a warrior facing combat for the first time, and opened the door.

  Rory stood there, still disheveled from his run with the dog. “She sure threw the tinder on that fire,” he said quietly.

  “What fire?” Pretending to be obtuse seemed like her only option.

  He smiled crookedly. “She ruined all my plans. Am I allowed in?”

  Finally she stepped back and waved him in. The door remained open a few inches, and to her surprise Rally nosed his way in. When she sat on her rocker, he collapsed at her side. Rory once again took the couch. This scene was becoming all too familiar.

  She craved this man, she realized. Out of all reason, against all instinct, she craved him. She knew better than to risk her heart again, but she had already risked it. All that remained was the inevitable anguish. She supposed she deserved it for being so foolish.

  “I had plans,” he said finally. “They did not involve my daughter proposing on my behalf.”

  She wet her lips. Her mouth had gone dry as sand. “I’m sure. Just ignore it.” As if either of them could. But maybe they could pretend.

  “I can’t.” He looked rueful. “I was planning... I was thinking...” He sighed. “Oh, heck. I hoped that you were coming to trust me and love me. At Christmas I intended to do the bended knee and roses thing, offer you a ring and pray that you’d say yes.”

  Shock exploded in her. “You what?”

  “See?” His smile faded. “You’re still recovering from Porter. I can’t imagine how hard it’s going to be for you to trust a man again. I figured maybe in time you might trust me. But maybe not. Like you said, we’ve both got hot buttons. Chances are I’d do some fool thing that would utterly convince you I’m a jerk.”

  “Rory...” Her heart was swelling until it felt as if it would burst from her chest.

  “But maybe it’s not totally blown. Unless you’re scared out of your mind now, do you think you could hang around and give me a chance?”

  Give him a chance? She reran the words in her mind, wondering if she was misunderstanding. But no, they seemed clear. As long as her hearing wasn’t being affected by wishful thinking. “Um...I hope you’re not saying these things because of Regina.”

  He shook his head. “She kind of forced my hand. But I wouldn’t marry anyone just because Regina wanted it. Just as I wouldn’t marry anyone she hated. She’s part of the decision, but this is between you and me. I come with a daughter attached. Her feelings count, but they aren’t the deciding factor unless she hates someone. Did I make that clear? I feel like I’m wandering here.”

  “You are,” she admitted. “You know I love Regina.”

  “Yeah, I do.” His words were emphatic. “For that reason alone, I want you to know you can stay here as long as you want, no strings. She’s attached to you. I’d never try to break that. But, big but, I’m attached to her. And I’d kind of like it if this was a package deal.”

  Uncertainty was building in her again. Package deal? What kind of package deal? Had she misunderstood him when he talked about marriage?

  She closed her eyes a moment, her hands clenching. She wanted to leap across the space between them and feel his strong arms around her, but that would only make matters muddier right now. “Rory...” She opened her eyes. “What’s a package deal?”

  His eyes widened a shade, then he astonished her by laughing.

  “Lousy word choice,” he said. “Okay. Let me be perfectly clear.”

  “Please. In so many words.”

  He smiled, rose and came to kneel before her, taking her hands in his. “Abby, I love you. I fell in love with you before I even realized it, but I know it now to the deepest part of my soul. I want you in my life forever, I want you to be my bride, my wife and maybe mother to some future kids. I want to grow old with you at my side, and we’ll sit on a front porch swing and I’ll play and sing for you as the sun begins to set. Forever.”

  She felt tears moisten her eyes, and one escaped, running down her cheek. Joy filled her until she grew certain she couldn’t contain it. “You know that homesickness we talked about, that thing you long for and can’t quite remember?”

  He nodded.

  “I found it with you. I’m not homesick for something I can’t remember anymore. I’m homesick for you.”

  She fell forward into his arms then, and, kneeling on the floor, they embraced tightly. He kissed her deeply, unleashing all the hunger and need and caring they felt.

  “I love you,” he said again. “Love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she answered, burying her face
in his shoulder. “Ah, Rory, I love you so much.”

  Just then, Rally shoved his head between them, pushing them apart. Rory fell back on his hands, and Abby caught herself on the edge of the rocker.

  “Hey,” said Rory. “I was hugging my lady here.”

  The dog gave them each a sloppy kiss before sitting down and grinning at them.

  Abby looked at Rory and they both burst into laughter. “I guess he was feeling left out,” Rory said. Then he pulled Abby into his arms again and lifted her to the pinnacle of happiness.

  Epilogue

  Rory and Abby married in a quiet ceremony at home two days before Christmas, giving Regina her wish. Regina had gone to town with the Christmas theme, and the living room was filled with a huge decorated tree, sparkling white lights and big red velvet bows. Dozens of poinsettias lined the room. The scent of pine perfumed the air.

  Their parents attended as did some of their friends, but it wasn’t a large gathering. Regina had written another song for the occasion, this time with Rory’s help, and unsurprisingly it held the words, “The sun rises and sets in your eyes.”

  Stella had dropped her custody battle quickly and attempted to play the martyred mother, but that story didn’t sell well, so she began to say that she had chosen to give her daughter a more stable life with her father, who had given up touring.

  He had, too. For at least eight years. He promised both Abby and Regina that he would always be here with them.

  He’d also done some remarkable things for Abby’s parents. Her mom no longer needed to work, and they now lived in Abby’s old apartment in the back of the house, once again among family and their old life-long friends. Rory’s parents were returning to their home in Jamaica after New Year’s, and promises of many future visits had flown in both directions.

  But all of that faded into the background as Abby, in a simple white dress adorned with a big red bow, eased around a Great Dane and crossed the living room to stand in front of the minister with Rory. One look in his smiling blue eyes, and nothing else existed.

  She was where she had always belonged, with the man she had waited her whole life for, and as Regina’s flute-like voice faded along with the piano on the last notes of the song, she felt her heart take wing.

  The journey had begun.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from HIS TEXAS CHRISTMAS BRIDE by Nancy Robards Thompson.

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  His Texas Christmas Bride

  Nancy Robards Thompson

  Chapter One

  Becca Flannigan wasn’t a gambler. For as far back as she could remember, she usually leaned toward the tried and true. She’d choose dependable, low-risk options over games of chance any day.

  That’s why it was particularly baffling when she discovered peace and the meaning of unconditional love with the simple flip of a coin.

  Figuratively, of course. But she’d heard it said when you’re uncertain about something, you should flip a coin. Even before the result turns up, you’ll know what you want.

  It was true.

  The trip to Celebration Memorial Hospital’s emergency room had been Becca Flannigan’s bright, shiny quarter spinning in the air.

  As she lay on the emergency room bed, one hand curled into the sheet and the other splayed protectively over her belly, she knew exactly what she wanted: she wanted—no, she needed—her unborn baby to be safe and healthy and unharmed by the bout of food poisoning that had landed her here in the hospital.

  So, this was unconditional love, Becca thought as she tried to make sense of the foreign emotions that had commandeered her heart.

  She’d never known a conviction like the one that had rooted itself deep in her soul; a certainty that she would die for the little being growing inside of her. But in this case, she couldn’t die, because now there was something so much more important than herself to live for.

  A few hours ago, the stabbing pain from the food poisoning had been so bad that death might have seemed preferable. But the terrifying realization that being this sick might cause her to lose the baby transcended the discomfort and became all consuming.

  At barely three months pregnant, she hadn’t been sure how she felt about her situation. Single and alone, she’d called it a predicament, a dilemma, a mess, a pickle—a gamble she’d taken and lost. She’d called it all those things, but she hadn’t called it love until she’d faced the very real possibility of losing her child.

  Here, under the harsh lights of the ER, something had cracked open inside her, and her previously muddied feelings had spilled away and everything important had crystallized.

  Despite the fact that she didn’t know how to find her child’s father. She hadn’t told her parents. Kate Thayer, her boss and best friend, was the only one who knew. The only reason Kate knew was because she’d been there with her in the ER when Becca had told the doctor.

  Now the only thing that mattered was that the child growing inside her was safe and healthy.

  This child was her everything.

  At twelve weeks, she wasn’t showing yet—although her body had started changing, a subtle transformation, adapting itself for the nine-month journey. She was thicker and her clothes fit snugly. People probably thought she’d gained weight. Just last week, her mother had made a snide comment about Becca spending too much time with Ben & Jerry’s. Little did she know.

  As Becca lay there with IV tubes in her arm and various machines beeping and humming, a restrained orchestration to accompany the chorus of emergency room sounds and voices on the other side of the cubicle curtain, she took back every negative or uncertain thought that had ever crossed her mind about this unplanned pregnancy.

  She was single and only twenty-five years old. A baby hadn’t been part of her plan at this juncture. They’d used protection that night. She wasn’t supposed to take away a living, growing souvenir.

  * * *

  But now, faced with the possibility of losing her child, everything was suddenly different. If she lost this baby, this new capacity to love would surely die right along with it. Becca closed her eyes against the thought.

  It wasn’t going to happen. She wouldn’t let it happen.

  “How are you feeling, hon?” Becca opened her eyes to see Kate standing at the opening in the privacy curtain. Kate had driven Becca to the emergency room as soon as the nausea and pain had started.

  The onset had hit Becca like an iron fist. One moment she was fine, walking from her desk to Kate’s office with the mail, just as she did every single day, and the next thing she knew, she was doubled over in pain. Sensing something, or maybe Kate had heard Becca whimper, Kate had insisted on taking her to the hospital. “I got you some ice chips,” Kate said. “I tried for water, but this was the best I could do. The nurse said she wants to make sure you can handle ice before she lets you have the hard stuff. They’re pretty busy out there, and they’re getting ready for a staff change. She said she’ll try to pop in before she clocks out, but if she can’t, she said the doctor who’s coming on duty will be in to see you.”

  Becca did her
best to smile as she accepted the white foam cup from Kate’s outstretched hand. She felt like a wrung-out dishrag, but she was stable and the baby was okay.

  Now she just wanted to go home.

  “Thank you,” Becca said, trying to steady her thin, shaky voice.

  “I’d feed them to you, but—” Kate crinkled her nose as she held up her hands, motioning around with one “—it’s a hospital and I haven’t washed my hands. Plus, you’d probably bite me if I tried.”

  She smiled her sweet Kate smile. Becca did her best to smile back.

  “Feeding me would be going above and beyond. I can handle it, thank you.”

  As Kate sat down, Becca lifted a piece of ice to her mouth, letting it linger on her parched lips. It melted on contact, leaving behind a cool, clean moisture. As she licked the droplets of water, Becca thought it was possibly the freshest, most delicious thing she’d ever tasted in her life. She placed another chip on her tongue. Surely this was what they meant when they’d said nectar of the gods.

  Whoever they were. The ones who imparted such great wisdom about flipping coins and drinks fit for deities.

  “How’s the ice settling?” Kate asked.

  Becca turned her head toward her friend, who had seated herself on a chair in the tiny space.

  “I can’t recall ever tasting anything so good,” Becca said. “I highly recommend it.”

  She smiled at Kate, but Kate’s smile didn’t reach her worried eyes. “I’m glad you and the baby are going to be okay.”

  She knew her friend’s words were sincere, but an unspoken question hung between them.

  “No one else knows,” Becca said. “About the baby, I mean. No one except you. And the doctor and nurses.”

  “You haven’t told your family yet?”

  Becca shook her head. She moved the cup of ice chips from her stomach to rest on the side of the bed. She needed to tell them. She probably should’ve already told them—before anyone else.

  She’d wanted to be sure she’d make it through the first trimester...though, if she were being honest with herself, she hadn’t really thought about telling them until now. But it made sense. No use in causing a family uproar for naught.