Colton Christmas Rescue

by Beth Cornelison

  She shook her head, confusion creasing her brow. “A few days ago, you pushed me away. You told me to find someone else to fall in love with.”

  He heaved a sigh. “I know. I’m sorry. I was scared.”

  “Of me?”

  “Of my feelings for you. Losing my wife and daughter hurt....” He paused as the familiar pain swelled in his chest. “So much. I barely crawled out of the pit of my grief and learned to put one foot in front of the other. One day at a time. I didn’t ever want to hurt that much again, and I thought that meant never investing my emotions in anyone again. I thought I could protect myself from that pain if I didn’t let myself love anyone else the way I’d loved them.”

  He read hesitancy in her eyes, a trepidation to risk her heart because of past betrayals, and a tender ache gripped him. Curling his fingers against her scalp, he nudged her closer and held her gaze. With the appeal in his eyes, he opened his soul to her. “I know Cheyenne’s father made you feel unwanted, unloved. From talking to your sisters, I know your father was cold and demanding toward his kids. I know why you are reluctant to risk your heart again. But...I love you, Amanda Colton. And I love Cheyenne.”

  She blinked rapidly, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “The truth is,” he continued, wiping her face with his thumb, “I tried not to fall in love with you, but Cheyenne’s laughter and innocence snuck past my defenses. And once she opened that crack in my heart, you barreled in with your strength and integrity and fire. Your tremendous love for your daughter. Those sexy eyes and smokin’ body...”

  That earned a small grin.

  “Maybe Cheyenne’s father hurt you. Deeply. But I’m glad he’s not in your life, because I want to be the one holding you at night and helping you raise Cheyenne and working beside you to save horses with colic. I want you, Amanda. In my bed. In my life. In my heart. For always.”

  She surged forward and caught his mouth in a tooth-clicking, lip-bruising kiss that shot straight to his soul. He angled his head, softening the kiss while amping up the heat. When she pulled back enough to catch her breath, she whispered, “See, I told you you had the soul of a poet. That was the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  “Oh, yeah? How about this— Will you marry me? I want you and Cheyenne to be my family and make a fresh start.”

  Her beautiful gold eyes widened, and she gaped for a moment before a slow teasing grin tugged her cheek. “Naw...”

  Now he gaped. “You won’t marry me?”

  “Oh, I probably will.” Humor lit her eyes. “But the other thing you said about wanting me for always in your life and your heart and how Cheyenne’s laugh cracked your defenses. That’s still the most romantic, I think.”

  He chuckled. “I see. But you’ll marry me?”

  “I have to check with Cheyenne first. This decision affects her, too. But if she’s on board—and judging by the way her eyes light up when she sees you, I can’t imagine she wouldn’t be—then I’d say you have a deal, cowboy.”

  He smiled and smacked another kiss on her lips. “Perfect.”

  Epilogue

  “Perfect,” Catherine said as she put the finishing touches on Gabriella’s hair, Christmas Eve morning. “Hit her, Amanda. Quick, before it falls.”

  Amanda, wearing a formfitting, Christmas-red bridesmaid dress, stepped forward. Armed with a can of hairspray, she liberally doused her sister’s hairdo.

  Gabby coughed and waved at the cloud that enveloped her. “Hey, whoa! That’s enough!”

  Amanda shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t use this stuff, and Cath didn’t want it to fall.”

  Gabby patted her stiff hair. “Well, it won’t. I don’t think a hurricane would muss it up now.”

  Amanda stepped back and studied her youngest sister. Gabby positively glowed as Cath, in her maternity version of the red bridesmaid gown, helped pin Gabby’s ivory lace veil in place. “Gab, you look beautiful. Trevor is a lucky, lucky man.”

  “Thanks,” Gabby said, meeting Amanda’s gaze in the mirror and smiling broadly. “I’m lucky, too. Trevor and Avery are the world to me.” She cocked her head, her expression speculative. “So when do we start planning your wedding?”

  A warmth swelled inside Amanda, as she thought of her future with Slade. “Soon. Let’s get you married today, and then we’ll talk. But I’m thinking it’d be nice to be a June bride.”

  “Oh, good! I was afraid you’d want it earlier, and I’d be a blimp in all the pictures,” Catherine said with a relieved sigh.

  “Speaking of weddings, did I tell you all Jagger and Mia sent us a Christmas card?” Gabriella said. “They’re planning a wedding in the next few months, too.”

  “How wonderful!” Cath smiled and rubbed her swollen belly.

  Amanda returned her attention to the bride. Her sister’s expression was pensive.

  “Gabby, what’s wrong?”

  Gabriella perked a bit and flashed a sad smile. “Just...thinking. I always thought that on my wedding day, Dad would walk me down the aisle. And even knowing everything we do about his deception and crimes and ill-gotten gains, a small part of me still wishes he could escort me at the ceremony.”

  Silence fell in the room, and the sisters exchanged commiserating glances. Amanda had filled her sisters in on all she and Slade had discovered about Jethro’s past, the murder he’d covered up, the kidnapping he’d faked...the whole sordid story. When all was said and done, Jethro was not the man they’d thought he was and was not a man whose legacy they wanted any part of.

  Amanda spoke first. “I know it’s probably bad form to talk about such things before Dad’s even dead, but...I’ve decided to donate my inheritance to the Center for Missing and Exploited Children. I’ve known the nightmare of having my baby missing, and if I can help even one child be returned safely to his parent, I’m all in.”

  “Are you sure? All of it?” Gabby asked.

  Amanda nodded confidently. “Slade wants to return to ranching. His career as a lawman was largely to honor his father and give him the means to find his father’s killer. He’s done that now, and he says his time here has reminded him how much ranching means to him.”

  Cath squeezed her sister’s arm. “That’s terrific. I know you’ll be happier on a ranch than living in the city.”

  Amanda set her shoulders, feeling more and more certain about the plans she and Slade had made together. “I can set up a vet practice wherever we land and also help out with our animals.”

  “I’m planning to give my inheritance away, too,” Cath said. “I could never spend money I knew Dad got through such nefarious means. We can live off of Gray’s salary as a policeman until the baby is old enough for me to go to work.”

  Amanda gave her sisters a serious look. “Along the same lines...I think we should sell the ranch. Not dismantle it. I don’t want any of the staff to lose their jobs, but sell it at a fair price to someone else. As is.”

  Her sisters nodded their agreement.

  “But if we sell, the troubled teens I work with will need a new place to meet.” Gabby bit her lip in thought, then her face brightened. “So I’ll use my share of the inheritance and sale of the ranch to build a teen center in town and develop programming that will give kids guidance, job training, family therapy when needed... It will be great!”

  “So all of Dad’s money will go for good causes.” Cath smiled her satisfaction. “I like it. It’s the perfect solution.”

  Gabby frowned. “What about Levi and Dylan? They deserve a share of Dad’s inheritance. They’re his children as much as we are.”

  “Of course,” Amanda said. “It’s only fair.”

  “Levi has already rejected his share of the estate, but I think we should insist he get his cut.” Cath divided a look between Amanda and Gabby. “He could use the money to
pay for medical school bills or open a free medical clinic or throw it all in a river if he wants. But it should be his.”

  “Agreed,” Amanda said, and Gabby nodded. “As far as Dylan goes...we have no way of getting it to him.”

  “Then we’ll give his share away to a cause he’d have approved of. A horse rescue and rehabilitation center or a domestic violence shelter for women,” Gabby said.

  Catherine smiled her approval. “Yes. An even split. I think he’d like that.”

  Amanda grinned slyly. “I rather like giving all of Dad’s millions away. After the way he’s hoarded it and refused to use it to help others in need all these years, it’s about time the money did some good.”

  “Oh!” Catherine gasped, putting a hand on her belly. “Judging by the dance the baby’s doing on my kidneys, I’d say she agrees!”

  A knock on the door interrupted their shared laugh.

  Slade, looking especially delicious in his dark suit and holding Cheyenne on his hip, poked his head in the room. “Are you ladies ready? I was sent to tell you they’re all set at the chapel.”

  Amanda rushed over to take Cheyenne from him. “Hey, now, you’re not supposed to be lifting anything heavy. Doctor’s orders.”

  He snorted and dodged her attempt to take Cheyenne. “The princess is not heavy, and I feel fine. I told you, I’m a fast healer.”

  Gray appeared behind Slade, carrying Avery. “What’s the verdict? The crowd’s getting antsy.”

  Gabby did a final check in the mirror and faced the men. “Ready.” Seeing the babies, who wore matching ivory dresses with red sashes, she cooed. “Aw, don’t you two look precious!”

  “Thanks, Gabby,” Gray said, grinning. “But I’m a happily married man.”

  Cath play-punched his shoulder.

  Levi arrived and wolf-whistled. “Ladies, you all look stunning.”

  “Why, thank you, sir.” Gabby gathered her bouquet of Christmas greenery and poinsettia blossoms and held her arm out as she approached Levi. “Dr. Colton, would you do me the honor of walking me down the aisle?”

  He blinked, clearly startled by her request. “Me?”

  “You are my brother. I can’t think of anyone better to give me away.”

  Emotion filled his face, and he cleared his throat. “I’d be honored.” He took her arm and escorted her out of the room.

  Gray and Catherine followed, and Slade held his arm out to Amanda. “Shall we?”

  She hooked her arm with his and sighed contentedly. “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “Just thinking.” She smiled up at him. “Despite all the hell this family’s been through in the last few months, we’ve been so blessed, too. I have two brothers now, Darla and her kids are out of our house, and all four of my siblings and I are starting new lives with someone they love dearly.”

  Slade gave her a kiss. “Sounds like Santa Claus came early to Dead River Ranch, and all the good boys and girls here got their deepest wish.”

  “Yes, he did, cowboy,” Amanda said, tweaking Cheyenne’s chin, then quoting, “But I heard him exclaim, ’ere he drove out of sight...”

  “Happy Christmas to all,” Slade joined her, “and to all a good night!”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from SEDUCED BY HIS TARGET by Gail Barrett.

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  Chapter 1

  It was the perfect day for a kidnapping.

  Steel-gray clouds hovered over the mountains, obscuring their escape route. Thunder rumbled in the distance, promising to mask any cries for help. The local farmers, exhausted after a brutal day spent toiling in the Peruvian highlands, had taken shelter in their drab mud huts, oblivious to the terrorists preparing to pounce.

  Gazing through his binoculars, Rasheed Davar lay flat on his belly in a tuft of chiliwua grass, studying the American medical team milling around their camp below. “Which one is the target?”

  The terrorist beside him lowered his binoculars, his silver tooth gleaming in the dwindling light. “She’s not here yet.”

  She? Rasheed shifted, a sliver of uneasiness stirring inside him, but he clamped down hard on the doubt. He couldn’t react, couldn’t show any hesitation or concern. Too many lives depended on this mission’s success—including his.

  Schooling his expression into indifference, he thumbed the focus on his binoculars and continued to survey the camp. A young blond woman fed kindling into the campfire. A gray-haired man sat beside her, stirring something in a metal pot. Both wore scrubs, typical attire for the volunteer medical teams that traveled through the remote villages in the Andes Mountains doing humanitarian work. Another woman, a brunette in a bulky parka, knelt on a tarp laden with pharmaceutical supplies, sorting and packing them into various bags. On the periphery of the camp, beyond a cluster of dome-shaped tents, a brown-skinned man, his chullo hat and poncho marking him as a Peruvian native, tended the tethered mules.

  “So what’s the plan?” Rasheed asked.

  The terrorist looked at him again. Known only as Amir, he had cold, flat eyes as black as death, and promising as much. Rasheed had met hundreds of men like him during the years he’d lived in the mountains of Jaziirastan, working his way through the training camps. Ruthless. Callous. Inured to all human feelings except one—sheer, unbridled hate. Men who would kill in a heartbeat, whose goal was the annihilation of anyone who didn’t submit to their way of life. Zealots who destroyed innocents with utter disinterest, murdering women and children with no remorse.

  Like Rasheed’s pregnant wife.

  “We’ll wait for the woman to show up,” Amir told him in his native Jaziirastani. “As soon as we identify her tent, we’ll rejoin Manzoor. We’ll move in tonight when the rain hits. Manzoor and I’ll stand guard. You’ll grab the woman. Just make sure you get the right one.”

  “I’ll get her,” he promised. He had no choice. He had to play his part.

  But why did they want a prisoner? This crack terror cell, the Rising Light’s most elite contingent, had come to Peru for one reason only—to join up with the South American drug cartel that would ferry them into the United States. Or so Rasheed had thought. This surprise detour to capture an American doctor didn’t make sense.

  But he didn’t dare question their plans. Neither Amir nor Manzoor, their small cell’s leader, trusted him completely, even though he’d been careful not to cause any doubt. He’d paid his dues. He’d spent years proving his loyalty as he rose through the Rising Light’s ranks. And thanks to his Jaziirastani parents—and the CIA’s most talented forgers—he had the linguistic skills and documents to pass as a native of that land. Whether the terrorists suspected him of being a traitor or were withholding information out of their usual paranoia, Rasheed didn’t know. But he needed to show them the blind obedience they expected to keep from tipping them off.

  “We’ll exit that way,” Amir continued, pointing toward a slot between the hills. “We’ll need to move fast. God willing, we’ll have success.”

  Rasheed gave the expected response. But his idea of success didn’t match
Amir’s. He’d only celebrate when he’d thwarted the upcoming attack and brought down the terrorists’ kingpin, the financier who’d murdered his wife.

  Thunder drummed across the steep terrain. The wind bore down, sweeping through the wheat-colored clumps of grass, bringing with it the threat of rain. Then a movement on the trail below them caught his attention, and he aimed his binoculars that way, careful to keep the lens from reflecting the waning light. Two people, a man and a woman, came into view, both carting backpacks, both wearing jackets over their surgical scrubs.

  Rasheed’s pulse began to speed up.

  The man led the way. He was tall, thin, probably in his mid-thirties, with a long, narrow face and a large hooked nose. He had a short, scraggly beard, and blisters on his nose and ears, thanks to the scorching, high-altitude sun.

  The woman walked beside him, her head bent, her face hidden beneath her wide-brimmed hat. Rasheed stayed stone-still, keeping his binoculars trained on her as she hiked along. Then suddenly, she raised her head and glanced around, as if sensing his scrutiny, and he finally caught a glimpse of her face.

  His breath made a hitch. His heart stumbled through several beats. “That’s the target?” he blurted out, unable to conceal his disbelief.

  “That’s her.”

  She was beautiful. Strikingly so with high, sculpted cheekbones, delicately winged black brows and a full, lush mouth in her tawny face. Her skin was satin smooth, her lips a tempting pink. She wore her long black hair in a single braid, but the wind had worked the shorter strands loose, sending them dancing around her face. She moved with an athletic grace, hinting at a slender build beneath her coat. But it was her remarkable face that held him spellbound, making it damned near impossible to breathe.