A Christmas Baby Surprise: Reclaimed by the Rancher

by Catherine Mann

  “So one would think. Too bad you didn’t bother to give her that courtesy before you climbed back into bed with her.” She fixed him with an unflinching gaze. The one she was famous for in the courtroom.

  “That’s really none of your business. I’m acting on the advice of her doctors, trying to ease her memory back.”

  As she shook her head dismissively, a tight grin spread across her face, not reaching her eyes. “You’re using that as a cop-out so you can pursue her.”

  “I want my wife back. What’s the problem with that?”

  “The problem is the way you’re going about it. I love you, son, but I also love Alaina. And no woman deserves to be tricked by a man who is supposed to love her.”

  She turned and walked away.

  Tricked?

  He wanted to call her back. To demand that she listen. He wasn’t trying to fool anyone; he’d simply been trying to buy some time to get his family in order. He was simply trying to make Alaina fall in love with him again so she would love him as much as he loved her.

  Love?

  Yes, he loved her. Just because he hadn’t said the words didn’t make them any less true.

  So why hadn’t he thought to tell her?

  * * *

  Now that her initial shock had eased, Alaina wanted to do something to fix the rift between her and Porter. She didn’t know exactly how much could be repaired, but she couldn’t leave things this way. The only question was where to start. She took a deep breath of the salt air, watching the lights on the yachts twinkle in the twilight, remembering her time on their yacht.

  She tugged her gaze back to her drawing pad, needing the comfort of her art now more than ever. Sketching a whimsical family portrait—a dream really—she whipped the charcoal across the pad. Pushing with her left foot, she rocked the hammock back and forth. An idea would come to her if she sat here long enough, she was sure of it.

  Her brow furrowed as she ran through potential ways to start her conversation with Porter. To make him understand what she’d learned about herself since the accident. About her feelings for him.

  If only she could voice her feelings with words as easily as they flowed from her fingertips onto paper—the three of them on their yacht in a tropical locale with a baby palm tree for a Christmas tree and toddler Thomas playing with a new toy boat. She had faith in them as a family. Faith that they could build a future with or without all her memories.

  She had her faith in what she wanted from the future.

  The sound of shoes shuffling on the ground drew her attention back to the present. Eyes focusing, she saw Porter approaching, a box with glittering gold wrapping paper in hand.

  Cocking her head to the side, she peered sideways at him. “What do you have there? You already gave me a gift.” She held up her hand with the ring featuring Thomas’s birthstone circled by diamonds.” The setting was a delicate band of filigree that looked handcrafted.

  “I have something else for you. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

  She swung her feet off the side of the hammock. “Please.”

  He lowered himself to sit beside her, his strong shoulder brushing hers and reminding her of the physical chemistry they’d always shared, the heightened awareness she’d always felt around him.

  She knew that because she remembered it now.

  Wordlessly, he passed her the large gold box. She opened it to find—a binder full of house designs.

  “I thought you would want to choose a new house yourself rather than having me assume I know what you want. I would like for us to live in that house together, but that’s up to you.”

  Words failed her. His gift touched her, deep in her soul. She tore her eyes away from the drawings and sketches to meet his gaze, still stunned silent.

  “Alaina, I apologize for not being up-front with you from the start.”

  “I’m the one who owes you an apology.” She sighed deeply.

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  Bracing for the talk they needed to have, she told herself that honesty and communication were their only hope at this point. That was how they’d patch things together. And it started now.

  “I think I lost my memory before the accident,” she admitted, although she wanted to see a specialist to discuss it. “I think it had something to do with being afraid to be a parent, being afraid of what happened to me with Douglas.”

  “I’ll never let him near you again.” Porter made it sound so simple, but her fears were far more jumbled than that. She didn’t fear Douglas coming after her. She feared the wreck of a woman the attack had left behind.

  “I realize he’s back in jail. I should have told you years ago about what happened and I didn’t. I’m in no position to judge you for holding things back. I think I spent so long telling myself that I would be okay, I forgot to show you the weakness behind the mask.” Maybe she had hoped that if she forgot about it, that if she never brought it into their relationship, that would be almost the same as if it had never happened.

  After her struggle with amnesia, she knew the brain had its own complicated coping mechanisms.

  “Seems to me we both have issues with trust.” He brushed a hand along her hair, a light caress she wanted to lean into. “What about now that you remember?” Even in the dying light, she could read the worry and fear sparking in his eyes. She was starting to realize just how afraid he was of losing her, of them drifting away from each other.

  “I don’t remember, not everything. Just snippets about the day of the accident.”

  “I assumed you remembered...” He rested his head against hers. “My mother said you deserve better from me, better than me. And God, Alaina, she’s right. I should have handled everything differently from the moment you woke up in the hospital, from before then, actually.”

  The bits of Porter she remembered from before the accident would have never said something so tender or allowed himself to be so vulnerable. She recalled how locked in he’d been on the goal of building the family and life he’d thought they should have. She glanced at his gifts—the choices for house plans, the understated but heartfelt ring. These were the gifts of the man she had sensed he might become.

  A man she could build her life with.

  “I trust you. If you say you love me, then you do.”

  “But I haven’t said it.”

  “Yet. You will.” A smile spread across her lips as she reached for him, fingers twining with his.

  “Confident, are you?”

  “I’m learning to trust my feelings rather than rely on some black-and-white memory of the past. Feelings, emotions...love...well, that comes in layers and textures that defy simple images.”

  “Love, you say?” He moved closer. “You love me?”

  “I’m still waiting for you to say the words first.”

  He squeezed her hand tight. Brought his lips to her fingertips and kissed her gently. Butterflies stirred in her stomach.

  His mouth brushed hers again. “Then by all means, I’m more than ready. Alaina Rutger, you are the one and only woman for me, the love of my life, the mother of my child. My partner. My lover. My life.”

  She took his face in her hands. “Porter, my love, my partner, father of my child. You are my soul mate for all time even if our minds and memories fade.” And she meant it. Every syllable.

  Porter dropped to one knee. “Will you marry me?”

  “But we’re already married.” Her eyes widened in a mixture of disbelief and excitement.

  “You’ll get your memory back someday. I’m confident of that. But even if you don’t, I would like for us both to remember the day, the vows.” The starlight and Christmas lights caught in his eyes, making them dance with the promise of family and love.

  “I adore that plan. I adore
you. Yes. Let’s get married all over again.”

  “Renew our vows on New Year’s at our Tallahassee house?”

  “Perfection.” She kissed him deeply. So sure of him. Of them. Of what they could accomplish together as a team.

  He pulled away to whisper in her ear. “Yes, you are perfect, Alaina. Absolutely perfect.”

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  “Merry Christmas, my love,” Porter said, kissing his wife, the sun warm on his shoulders as they lounged on the upper deck of their yacht.

  “Merry Christmas to you, too.” She slid from her lounge chair to his, curling up beside him with a happy sigh. “This has been the most amazing family Christmas ever.”

  Their son napped in his cabin with his grandmother and her new husband keeping watch. Who would have thought Barry would be a keeper? But his mom was happy.

  And so was Porter.

  He stroked down his wife’s arm, linking fingers with her. “I’m glad you found a way to enjoy the yacht.”

  “Trips together have been a fun escape—” she squeezed his hand back “—and a chance to grow closer as a family.”

  Waves slapped the side of the craft, chimes singing on their Christmas palm tree. He never would have believed this possible before her accident. But then, he hadn’t bought the yacht with the intent of traveling. He’d missed the whole point of a vacation home and the boat, a symbol for his bigger problem.

  Life was meant to be enjoyed.

  And this past year he’d enjoyed his life more than he could ever remember doing, thanks to his fresh start with Alaina and Thomas.

  He stroked a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear. “So you never told me. Why did you choose the Florida Keys for Christmas?”

  She tapped her temple. “A week with minimal contact from the outside world?” She grinned. “What’s not to love? I have my husband and son, my family, for the holidays.”

  Thomas was out of a cast for now, due for another surgery later, but free to crawl around in the sand. He would be a late walker because of his clubfoot, but the doctors expected a full recovery. He was a gloriously healthy child.

  They had everything in their life that mattered.

  It hadn’t always been easy. But they worked at it, finding new paths to make their marriage thrive.

  They played this game of surprise often. Her memory had never returned fully, so Porter had suggested she make choices and surprise him. Some small things like dinner dates or larger plans like vacations.

  He soaked up the feeling of her skin against his, her bikini leaving a delicious amount of flesh for him to explore with his eyes and hands. “I enjoy your choices for vacations.”

  “And I appreciate the way you’ve worked to help me feel more in control of my world. I wish I could have regained all of those missing years, but I’m beginning to accept that may never happen.”

  He searched her eyes for signs of the pain she’d experienced last year as she began to accept that her memory might not ever come back. She’d remembered good moments and some arguments they’d had, as well. He’d asked to hear every one of them, and as he’d listened, it had helped him hear her side of things. Helped them cement the bond they’d found after the accident.

  They had made peace with that past and grown individually, as a couple, too.

  He kissed her on her pink nose. “You still haven’t fully answered my question. Why the Keys? There are plenty of places for isolation.”

  She sat up and pulled a box from under her lounge chair. “Why don’t you pull the wrapping from your gift and see. That’s why I asked you to come up here.”

  She passed him a two-foot square box with a huge red bow.

  They’d already exchanged presents earlier and one of his had a note inside promising his “special” gift would be given later on the top deck. He’d assumed she meant sex.

  This was another surprise.

  He tore the large red ribbon from the gift box, lifted the lid. A framed sketch rested inside a satin lining. The charcoal image showed a family of three on their yacht in a tropical locale with a baby palm tree for a Christmas tree and toddler Thomas playing with a new toy boat.

  She rested her hand on his elbow. “I was drawing that a year ago when you found me in the hammock and told me you love me. This,” she said, tapping the edge of the gift, “was my dream for our family. My hope. And now it’s our reality.”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  “The very best Christmas gift ever and I get to enjoy it year-round.” Her smile was brighter than the noonday sun. “Thank you.”

  He traced her mouth and winked. “I guess that means I should cancel our flight out of Miami to Paris.”

  Laughing, she kissed him, her palms flat against his chest. “Don’t you dare. I can’t wait to go to the Louvre.”

  She’d seen the photos of their first trip, one she’d forgotten. Seeing the frustration on her face over that lost moment, he’d known right away what to get her for Christmas.

  He set aside the incredible sketch, a treasure for his office, and gathered his wife into his arms to make love. They would experience Paris all over again for New Year’s. Some couples didn’t get second chances at forever.

  He was grateful for every minute of this second chance with Alaina. Each day a beautiful surprise with the love of his life.

  * * * * *

  If you liked this tale of family drama and romance, pick up these other stories from USA TODAY bestselling author Catherine Mann

  HONORABLE INTENTIONS

  BILLIONAIRE’S JET SET BABIES

  YULETIDE BABY SURPRISE

  FOR THE SAKE OF THEIR SON

  Available now from Harlequin Desire!

  And don’t miss the next BILLIONAIRES AND BABIES story

  TRIPLETS UNDER THE TREE

  from Kat Cantrell

  Available December 2015!

  If you’re on Twitter, tell us what you think of Harlequin Desire! #harlequindesire

  RECLAIMED BY THE RANCHER

  Janice Maynard

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  One

  Not much rattled Jeff Hartley. At twenty-nine, he owned and operated the family ranch where he had grown up during a near-idyllic childhood. His parents had taken early retirement back in the spring and had headed off to a condo on Galveston Bay, leaving their only son to carry on the tradition.

  Jeff was a full member of the prestigious Texas Cattleman’s Club, a venerable establishment where the movers and shakers of Royal, Texas, met to shoot the breeze and oftentimes conduct business. Jeff prided himself on being mature, efficient, easygoing and practical.

  But when he opened his door on a warm October afternoon and saw Lucy Peyton standing on his front porch, it felt as if a bull had kicked him in the chest. First there was the dearth of oxygen, a damned scary feeling. Then the pain set in. After that, he had the impulse to flee before the bull could take another shot.

  He stared at his visitor, his gaze as level and dispassionate as he could make it. “I plan to vote Democrat this year. I don’t need any magazine subscriptions. And
I already have a church home,” he said. “But thanks for stopping by.”

  He almost had the door closed before she spoke. “Jeff. Please. I need to talk to you.”

  Damn it. How could a woman say his name—one measly syllable—and make his insides go all wonky? Her voice was every bit the same as he remembered. Soft and husky...as if she were on the verge of laryngitis. Or perhaps about to offer some lucky man naughty, unspeakable pleasure in the bedroom.

  The sound of eight words, no matter how urgently spoken, shouldn’t have made him weak in the knees.

  Her looks hadn’t changed, either, though she was a bit thinner than he remembered. Her dark brown hair, all one length but parted on the side, brushed her shoulders. Hazel eyes still reminded him of an autumn pond filled with fallen leaves.

  She was tall, at least five-eight...and though she was athletic and graceful, she had plenty of curves to add interest to the map. Some of those curves still kept him awake on dark, troubled nights.

  “Unless you’re here to apologize,” he said, his words deliberately curt, “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

  When she shoved her shoulder against the door, he had to step back or risk hurting her. Even so, he planted himself in the doorway, drawing a metaphorical line in the sand.

  Her eyes widened, even as they flashed with temper. “How dare you try to play the wronged party, you lying, cheating, sonofa—”

  Either she ran out of adjectives, or she suddenly realized that insulting a man was no way to gain entry into his home.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You were saying?”

  His mild tone seemed to enrage her further, though to her credit, she managed to swallow whatever additional words trembled on her tongue. Was it bad of him to remember that small pink tongue wetting his— Oh, hell. Now he was the one who pulled up short. Nothing stood to be gained by indulging in a sentimental stroll down memory lane.

  No tongues. No nothing.