All a Cowboy Wants for Christmas

by Anthology

  Pain flared in her eyes and he felt a sudden spike of dread. “Caroline?”

  “We didn’t make a baby.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do.” She sounded as if she were having trouble breathing.

  He slashed a hand through the air. “There was nothing to prevent it. You could be pregnant right now.”

  “I’m not.”

  He gripped her shoulders, wanting to shake her for being so dang stubborn. “There’s no way you can possibly be sure of that.”

  “There is.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she looked straight at him, her eyes deep green and wet. “I can’t have children. Ever.”

  Chapter Six

  “What?” The words jarred him like a kick to the head. “What do you mean you can’t have children ever? Why would you think that?”

  “Because it’s true!”

  He could see she believed it with everything in her. He reached for her, but she moved away. “Caroline—”

  “I need to tell you something.”

  “I wish you would.” He tracked her as she paced back and forth in front of the bed. She was huddled into herself, looking small and helpless and sad.

  She shivered. Because she was cold or because of nerves?

  What did she need to say? Impatience sawed through him, but he reined it in. She was obviously distraught.

  “Let’s go into the front room where it’s warmer,” he suggested.

  Her fine-boned features were pinched as she preceded him through the bedroom door and past the cookstove to the fireplace.

  Concerned now, he touched her shoulder. “Don’t you want to sit down?”

  “No.” Tension lashed her body as she blurted out, “The surgery I had wasn’t to remove my appendix.”

  He frowned.

  “About six months after you left, I began having some...female trouble. I went to see Stephen and he found a tumor in my stomach. Actually on my uterus. That’s where a baby grows.”

  “I know what it is,” he said hoarsely, apprehension snaking through him. “I have a sister.”

  She nodded, her cheeks flushed a deep rose. “Anyway, he had to remove my entire uterus as well as everything else so there’s no way I can become pregnant.”

  “Ever?”

  “Ever.”

  No children? Smith’s chest hollowed out as he tried to take it in. It was a blow, to be sure. So many of their plans had included a big family. The possibility that they couldn’t have one had never crossed his mind and yes, it changed things.

  Regret and a sense of loss rolled through him. If he felt this way, she must’ve been devastated. The news would take some getting used to, but he was more worried about her.

  He edged closer to her. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

  “You couldn’t have done anything.”

  “We could’ve gotten through it together,” he said softly.

  She shook her head.

  “Did you recover all right?”

  “Yes. It took almost two months, but I did.”

  “That’s when Della and William and Galloway helped you.”

  She nodded, but she wouldn’t look at him. She was trembling, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. Was she really okay?

  Hit with a sudden alarming thought, Smith went still inside. “Last night? Did I hurt you? What did the doctor say about making love?”

  “He said it was fine as long as I was fully recovered, which I am.” She finally met his gaze. “You didn’t hurt me. Not at all.”

  “Good.” He exhaled heavily in relief. “I couldn’t stand it if I caused you any pain. That’s what I care about.”

  “Didn’t you hear me say I couldn’t have children?”

  “Yes. Why didn’t you tell me this that day at school when I asked about your surgery?” He recalled their conversation about the operation. When he had referred to her appendix, she had seemed confused and nervous. Because, he realized now, she hadn’t wanted him to know the real reason for the procedure.

  His chest tightened. “You lied to me. You’ve never done that before. Did you think I wouldn’t want you?”

  “No,” she said flatly. “I knew you would say it didn’t matter.”

  “Of course, it matters.”

  She flinched.

  “Because it’s upsetting to you.”

  “And you.”

  “And me,” he admitted. “Still, it doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”

  “I expected you’d say that, too.”

  “That’s a good thing, Caroline,” he said drily. “Being childless isn’t what either of us prefer, but it doesn’t mean we can’t be together.”

  Tears filled her eyes and she turned away. There was something more going on here, Smith realized.

  Moving to stand behind her, he gently laid his hands on her shoulders. “Are you having trouble coming to terms with it?”

  “I’ve accepted that I’m not a whole woman.”

  “Of course you’re a whole woman!” Smith turned her to face him. Was that what was bothering her?

  He should’ve figured it out. She had always wanted to be a mother, expected to be one. It made sense that she would see herself differently now.

  He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. “Do you really believe that about yourself? Because I don’t. If you’d let me, I’d prove again just how much of a woman you are.”

  His attempt to coax a smile from her didn’t work. Nothing seemed to be working. Another thought hit him out of nowhere.

  “What about Galloway? Is this why you ended things with him?”

  “I told him about it, but no. I broke the engagement because he deserves to be happy, to spend his life with the right woman. I’m not that woman.”

  “That’s because you’re the right woman for me. Do you think all I care about is having kids? You think that’s the only reason I want you?”

  This was why she’d been pushing him away. Relieved to finally know the reason, Smith cautioned himself to remain patient. He just needed to reassure her.

  “You want a big family. You should have one.” Her words were clipped. “You can’t have that with me.”

  “And we’re dealing with it.”

  “You can’t tell me you’re willing to give up the future you wanted.”

  “The future we wanted.” He searched her tortured green eyes. “It would’ve been nice to have children, but I can live without them. What I can’t do, won’t do, is live without you.”

  “You might feel that way now, but when our friends begin having children, you’ll want them, too. And you should have them.”

  “As long as you and I are together, I’ll be just fine.”

  She shook her head, looking defeated.

  Smith’s heart ached. “You’ve accepted that you can’t bear children. Why do you think I can’t accept it?”

  “You shouldn’t have to.”

  “Neither should you, but that’s life.” He dragged a hand down his face, unsure if he should reach for her or not. Every time he got close, she backed away. “I don’t know how to reassure you.”

  She wiped at her wet eyes. “My mother died trying to give my father one more child. Do you know how many times she miscarried? Do you remember the two babies who were stillborn?”

  “We aren’t your parents, sweetheart.”

  “They were happy and in love when they married,” she cried. “But with each failed pregnancy, my father’s resentment grew. I couldn’t bear for you to look at me like that, to blame me.”

  “Don’t paint me with the same brush as your father. I know what’s more important—our being together, staying together. You think my parents haven’t had problems?”

  “I’m sure they have.”

  “As a new bride, my ma didn’t want to move here from Missouri, but she did. Now she loves it as much as my pa. It took years for that to happen, but she stuck by him. Just like I’ll stick by you.”
/>   “I can’t marry you.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling as if he were drowning. “Not being able to have a family is hard, a loss for both of us, but it’s not a reason to spend our lives apart.”

  “I’m trying to put your feelings first!” Her voice cracked. “The way you’ve always done for me.”

  “If that’s true, then marry me.”

  “You’ve always wanted children and I can’t—”

  “I’ve always wanted you.”

  “When I fail to give you the family you want and deserve, you’ll despise me just as my father did my mother.”

  “Gil Curtis was a fool,” he snapped. “He treated you and Adelaide as if you were failures, didn’t recognize what he had in your mother or you, either. I know exactly what I have in you, with you. Do I like the idea of having a child that’s part of both of us? Yes, but I don’t need it. Not like I need you.”

  How could he make her understand? Anger edging out the patience he’d managed until now, he struggled to keep his voice down. “When I was in prison, you know what I dreamed about? Just you. Not you and a house full of kids. I figured out real quick what was important and what wasn’t. A life with you is what I want. Why can’t you accept that?”

  “I wish I hadn’t told you.”

  Her words were so soft he almost missed them. His eyes narrowed. “If I hadn’t pressed you on this, you wouldn’t have told me that you can’t have children?”

  “Not if I could help it.”

  It was as if she’d just punched the breath out of him.

  “I know your sense of duty. You’re too good, too honorable to walk away from me because of this, but I know how it will be when you finally accept that our lives will be childless.”

  “Staying with you doesn’t have one damn thing to do with duty or being honorable! You’re the only woman for me, Caroline. You always will be.” He snagged her hand. “I love you. That means through everything, not just for the times when I get what I want.”

  Pulling away, she went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “My father said the same to my mother and in the end, it was the only thing that did matter. She died from childbed fever after delivering a stillborn son, her eleventh attempt to give him the family he wanted. I couldn’t bear for you to look at me the hateful hideous way he looked at her.”

  “You know me better than that.” His chest cracked open. Desperate to change her mind, he searched for a way to make her understand. “Don’t you think there will be times in our marriage when you’ll be disappointed in me? That I’ll sometimes hurt you, deliberately or not?”

  She blinked and he could tell she hadn’t considered that, but before he could say more, she jumped in.

  “It’s not the same thing. Every couple has disagreements and fights, but you calm down, apologize and move on. This is more than a disagreement, Smith. This is something you want at your core, something we both thought we could have and we can’t because of me.”

  He wanted to put his fist through the wall. “And I say I want you. Only you.”

  “You should have the kind of life you’ve always wanted.”

  “I can’t have that without you, for better or for a hell of a lot worse. Do you think you’re somehow protecting me? Is that what this is?”

  “I only want you to have the family you planned.”

  “What about what I want?”

  Every soft line of her body was rigid and tears spilled down her cheeks.

  He cursed. Why couldn’t he get through to her? “You thought I was dead and would never return. After all the time we’ve lost, you want to throw us away?”

  “I’m giving you what you won’t admit you want more than anything.”

  It was as though she’d grabbed hold of his heart and twisted. For a moment, he couldn’t speak around what felt like shards of glass in his throat.

  “No,” he finally managed quietly, coldly. “You’re deciding my life for me.”

  Black fury razored through him. Barely aware of moving, he limped to the bedroom for his boots and jerked them on.

  Seething, he grabbed his coat, hat and gloves from the sofa and headed for the door. Once there, he turned, stabbing a finger toward her. “You don’t get to decide what I want or what I should have.”

  But she already had and he wasn’t sure he could forgive her for it.

  Even worse, he didn’t know if he should even try.

  * * *

  The look Smith fixed on her before he walked out was savage enough to weaken her knees. Come back! Caroline wanted to cry out, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

  The slam of the door reverberated in the early morning quiet, rattled through her small house. A chill lingered and behind her the fire crackled and hissed. Heat warmed her backside, but she was numb, eaten up with misery and resentment over what life had dealt her.

  Smith loved her and she loved him. It just wasn’t enough.

  Legs wobbly, she curled one hand over the back of the sofa. As much as she hated what had just happened between them, it had been the right thing to do. If not, it wouldn’t hurt so terribly, would it?

  The look on his face—disbelief then raw naked pain then derision—was seared into her brain and a pulsing pain filled her.

  All she wanted was for him to have everything that was within her power to give.

  She wanted to crawl under the covers and cry until there were no tears left. If it hadn’t been for William, she would have, but she didn’t want the boy to be alone when he woke up. Didn’t want him to be alone any more than he already had.

  She made biscuits, put them in the cookstove to bake and went to dress. In no mood for cinching up today, she went without a corset. She donned her flannel chemise and petticoats then her thickest wool stockings. Leaving her hair loose, she pulled it back with a kerchief.

  She stared at the bed, the rumpled sheets that reminded her of her night with Smith. His masculine outdoorsy scent lingered.

  He would probably always think of last night with bitterness, but she wouldn’t. Until she had ruined things earlier, it had been all she’d ever hoped and she was going to remember it that way.

  Anxious to get to William, fighting thoughts of Smith, Caroline cooked a large helping of bacon, covered it and packed it with the biscuits. She was washing the skillet and baking pan when a knock sounded on her door.

  Her pulse skipped at the thought that her visitor might be Smith, but that was foolish. The vicious hurt and anger in his eyes when he’d left had told her he wouldn’t be coming back.

  Untying her apron and wiping her hands on the garment, she made her way to the door and opened it. Her breath seeped out. It was Smith, tall and dark with a cold forbidding look in his eyes she had never seen.

  Was he here to try to change her mind? If so, Caroline knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.

  No, she could tell by the way his face closed against her that he hadn’t come for reconciliation.

  There was no forgiveness in his midnight-black eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw and he turned his head away as though he couldn’t bear to look at her.

  A sob caught in her throat. Everything in her wanted to reach for him. Instead she clasped her suddenly clammy hands together and waited.

  Snow fell in fat wet flakes behind him. Everything was covered in white. It must have snowed all night.

  Her gaze moved down his full length and back up, searching for some clue as to what was wrong or if he was hurt. “Smith?”

  His big frame rigid, face like stone, he thrust a piece of folded paper at her. She took it, recognizing the careful printing on the outside flap as William’s.

  To Teacher and Mr. S. Jennings

  She fumbled the note open and quickly scanned the first few lines then scanned them again. Her breath backed up in her lungs.

  Shocked, she looked at Smith, her voice cracking. “William’s run away because he’s afraid he’ll be sent to an orphanage?”

  She gripped the door
frame to steady herself.

  Smith’s rugged features softened then hardened again so quickly she thought she imagined it. He stepped inside, nudging her back and closing the door.

  Still struggling to understand, she read more of the letter. “His mother was put on an orphan train when she was a child. He’s afraid he will be, too. Doesn’t he know we would never let that happen?”

  “Evidently not.”

  The resentment in Smith’s voice registered as she pushed the letter back at him. “We have to find him.”

  She grabbed her cape from the peg beside the door as Smith walked over to bank the fire in the fireplace. The fire he’d started after they had woken up together. It felt like days had passed since then.

  While he tamped out the flame in the cookstove, she rearranged her kerchief so that it covered her ears. She wrapped a shawl around her head, pulled on her gloves.

  “I woke Stephen and Kate,” Smith said stiffly. “They didn’t know the boy was gone. Stephen is gathering the town together for a search.”

  “Okay.” Her gaze went to the small basket she’d packed. “I made breakfast for him. Should I take it?”

  “Good idea.”

  She picked up the woven container. “We should check his house first.”

  “Already did. He’s not there, not at church or the school, either.”

  “Where could he be?”

  “I’ve been to the livery.” Smith’s big hand covered the doorknob. “His mule’s gone.”

  “He really doesn’t mean to come back,” she whispered. Something about Smith’s arrival nagged at her, something other than William’s disappearance. “Where did you find the letter?”

  “Tacked to your door frame. On the outside edge.”

  Which explained why she hadn’t seen it when Smith had left. “It’s a good thing you noticed it.”

  He nodded sharply. “Ready?”

  She skirted the sofa and met him at the door. “How long do you think he’s been gone?”

  “Hard to know.”

  “Long enough for you to check everywhere—” She broke off, suddenly hit with a realization. Her gaze sliced to him. “When did you find this?”

  “When I left your house.”