An older couple stood behind him. Where the hell had they come from?
The gentleman wore a no-nonsense expression that didn’t bode well, while the woman studied him with wide, hope-filled eyes. Ah, hell, were they the new owners?
“Mr. and Mrs. Charlton are here,” Hubert said.
“Welcome to the Crown Seven.” Reid strode forward and offered the man his hand. “Erston was by earlier to tell me he’d sold out to you. May I ask how long you’d been negotiating on this?”
The gentleman gave a firm shake. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision we arrived at after talking at length with Mr. Erston. He led us to believe you were the young man my wife has been looking for.”
He sent her a commiserating smile. “Erston mentioned it to me as well. Sorry he lied to you. Now if we can come to terms regarding the ranch—”
“May I see your nape?” Mrs. Charlton asked, the entreaty in her voice touching something deep inside him. “I was told that my son had a strawberry birthmark.”
He knelt before the short woman who seemed desperate to find her son and let her part the hair at his nape. Her heavy exhalation told him what he already knew.
“You’re not him,” Mrs. Charlton said.
Reid got to his feet. “No, ma’am. My mother was from Ireland. She died giving me life.”
“But you ended up in the Guardian Angel’s Orphan Asylum,” she said.
“Yep, along with forty other boys of differing ages.” All urchins with no kin and no hope.
“Didn’t you have any family?”
Distant relatives and a father who denounced him. “None that wanted me.”
She laid her hand on his arm. “How many boys were near your age?”
Reid frowned, thinking. “Maybe a dozen.”
“That’s what we were led to believe,” Mr. Charlton said. “We’ve tracked down over six men, and learned two have gone on to their reward.”
“Any chance you’ve found Trey March or Dade Logan yet?” he asked.
The Charltons shook their heads, and he faced the possibility that one or both of his foster brothers were dead. That would explain why they’d never defied the bogus rustling charge and come to claim their shares.
So many questions that still needed answers. Would he ever find his foster brothers again?
“I understand you have thoroughbreds,” Charlton said, and Reid welcomed the change of subject.
“Yes, sir, though I’ve got them up for sale right now.”
“You giving up on raising horses?” Charlton asked.
“For now. I need the revenue to start over.”
Charlton eyed him curiously. “Why would you want to do that when you own a share of this ranch?”
Reid spread his arms wide. “One sixth isn’t much to hang a man’s hat on.”
“You want sole ownership,” Charlton said.
He shook his head. “This ranch is the only home me, and my foster brothers, know. I wanted to keep it that way.”
“If you agree to manage the ranch for me,” Charlton said, “I’ll let you purchase your foster brothers’ shares, providing one of them isn’t our son.”
Reid smiled, liking this man already. “You’ve got a deal, sir,” he said and sealed the agreement with a firm handshake.
Moss poked his head in the parlor, eyes twinkling and pug nose red from the cold, as he scanned the room for Ellie. “I cooked enough for all of us tonight.”
“Thank you,” she said, and came to stand beside Reid as she greeted the couple. “I trust you’re staying the night.”
“If we won’t be putting you out, dear,” Mrs. Charlton said, as the jingle of sleigh bells drew close.
“I’m sure there’s enough,” she said, which Moss confirmed with a relaxed nod.
Reid peered out the window at the newcomer. Damn, he’d forgotten all about the man.
Moments later, Hubert had divested the visitor of his heavy frock coat and led him into the parlor. “Afternoon, reverend.”
“Good day to you all too,” the preacher said, glancing at the gathering. “I came as soon as I could, Mr. Barclay. Am I too late?”
Reid looked down at Ellie and smiled, certain he’d never had such a wild idea come over him. But it felt right.
“You’re just in time,” he said.
He took the cornhusk angel from Ellie and put it back atop the tree that she’d carefully decorated for his wedding. “You got to know I love you, Ellie.”
She bobbed her head and smiled up at him with tear-filled eyes. “It’s still good to hear it. You know I love you, too.”
He nodded, his throat getting tight with emotion. For a heartbeat, the enormity of what he was about to do hammered at his old fears again. This time, that suffocating punch to his gut was gone.
“Miss Eleanor Jo Cade,” he began, and dropped on a knee and had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes go wide and her soft kissable lips part. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She laughed and cried and threw herself into his arms. “Yes,” she said against his lips. “Yes.”
He allowed one quick kiss that had him craving more and stood with her tucked against his side. Yep, he’d never felt this need for another woman before. Never experienced this fear that he’d open his eyes and she’d be gone.
“You still have that ring?” he asked her.
She tugged on the ribbon around her neck and handed him the gold band set with a trio of diamonds, warm from nestling between her breasts.
And so under the watchful eye of the cornhusk angel her mama had made, the misty eyes of an old outlaw who’d mended his ways, and the couple who were giving him a second chance to follow his dream, Reid Barclay married the woman who captured his heart and made him believe Christmas wishes do come true.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2009 by Janette Kenny
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 1-4201-1307-0
A Cowboy Christmas Page 30
