A Cowboy's Christmas Reunion (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Boones of Texas, Book 1)

by Sasha Summers

  “I know.” Eli arched an eyebrow, grinning.

  Hunter shook his head, but he smiled. God, he loved his boy.

  He was lucky—he knew it. He had a job he loved. The research he and his brothers had been doing on the ranch had led to a partnership with the state agricultural agency. Their hard work and dedication had made Boone Ranch one of the biggest conservation and rehabilitation sites in this part of the country. They’d had a plan, a good plan. And once Hunter had a plan, he stayed with it until the end.

  Losing Jo hadn’t been part of the plan. And nothing had ever hurt like that.

  Jo.

  He fisted his hands, wishing he could stop wanting her, needing her. She was here, so close, yet still out of his reach. Seeing her now reminded him of everything he’d had and lost. Thinking about her wouldn’t bring her back, wouldn’t change what he’d done—

  “Do you still love her, Dad?” Eli was looking at him.

  He hadn’t realized that he wasn’t looking at his computer anymore. His gaze had wandered, and he’d been blindly staring out the window.

  “I’m supposed to go to Tommy’s house tomorrow night. Remember?” Eli asked. “Don’t want to leave you alone if it’ll be...weird,” Eli finished.

  Fisher had already told them he wouldn’t be coming, but he hadn’t offered up an explanation.

  Hunter glanced at his son. “Guess it’s a good thing her dad’s coming for dinner, too.”

  “Why?” Eli asked.

  “Because when Jo and I are alone, we tend to fight.”

  * * *

  JOSIE WAS TIRED. And stressed. And tired of being stressed. And now she was getting a headache. Probably because she was heading to dinner with the love of her life and the only person she’d ever hated. Not hated...just actively disliked. That was why she’d made her father and Annabeth promise not to bring up anything to do with Amy. Or Hunter. She didn’t like who she was, how she felt, where Amy was concerned.

  “Holy crap,” Josie breathed as she pulled through the huge stone entranceway, the intricate wrought-iron gate open wide. This was nothing like the Boone ranch she remembered. This was something else. She drove slowly, following the twisting limestone drive until she reached three outbuildings.

  One was obviously a ranger station. It was elevated, with a two-story ladder the only way up. A small building sat next to it, a long ranch house of sorts with two large trucks parked beside it. Then there was the main building, several stories tall, all wood and native stone and rather impressive.

  Almost as impressive as the man sitting on the porch. She sighed. Hunter sat, a laptop on his knees. He looked gorgeous—and a little bit dangerous to what remained of her heart.

  She put the car in Park, trying not to stare as he smiled at her. He closed the laptop and walked down the steps to greet her.

  The throbbing in her head was matched by the pounding of her heart. Whether it was from nerves or exhaustion, she didn’t know. But watching him walk to her car did little to calm her nerves. It was going to be a long night.

  She rolled down the passenger window as he leaned forward to say, “Hi.”

  “Hi.” She forced a smile. “Dad bailed at the last minute.” Which had led to a thirty-minute argument. At least Eli would be there as a buffer.

  A strange look crossed Hunter’s face and then he smiled. “His hip giving him trouble?”

  “Yes.” That’s what her father had told her, though she suspected he was trying to play matchmaker. Why her father was trying to fix her up with a married man was a mystery. After the hell her mother’s indiscretions had put him through, she’d expected him to place a little more value on the whole faithful vow thing. He’d always been on the eccentric side, but this was ridiculous. Hunter was off-limits, no if, ands or buts about it.

  “Can you give me a ride?” he asked. “Or we can take some horses.”

  “How much farther is the main house?” She let her eyes travel over the buildings again. “And why don’t I recognize any of this?”

  His eyes traveled over her face. “Did you think you’d recognize it?”

  “Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I figured you’d made some changes, and you obviously have, but...”

  “I didn’t own this when we... In high school this wasn’t part of the family ranch. We bought this about six years ago.” He paused.

  “That makes sense. So, if I remember correctly, this must be the guest lodge?” She took it all in, impressed. “Am I right?” She waited for him to nod. “Well, wow, congratulations. Looks like your big plans are coming together.”

  “Most of them.” He nodded, his eyes boring into hers. “So horses or driving?”

  She looked down at her skirt. “Driving. Didn’t know horses were part of the evening.”

  He opened the passenger door and climbed in. “Just stay on the drive to the left. It’s a ways down yet.”

  She drove on, and her small red four-door rental seemed to shrink as the silence stretched on.

  It was too quiet. The pounding in her head seemed to echo. “Too bad you didn’t have paved roads when you taught me to drive. Maybe I wouldn’t have totaled that truck.”

  “You didn’t. That thing was like a tank.” He looked at her. “It wasn’t for a lack of trying, though.”

  “I guess I should blame my teacher.” She flashed him a grin.

  He chuckled. “Sure. If that makes you feel better about wrecking my granddad’s truck, you just go on telling yourself that.”

  “God, I felt terrible.” She shook her head. “I still do.”

  “Don’t. Still drive it back and forth around here when I need to run errands or deliver something. Imagine I’ll teach Eli to drive in it.” Hunter rested his head against the headrest.

  As they crested the next hill, Josie saw the ranch house. It had always been a special place, where her most treasured memories took place. She was hit with a case of nerves so intense she almost turned the car around. Instead, she did what she always did when she was nervous. She talked.

  “You’ve made a lot of improvements to the house. I knew you’d never tear it down, since your grandmother was born here.” She paused, but he didn’t say anything. “I guess it’s nice to have some privacy for you and your family. I mean, you haven’t said anything about the way the ranch works now, but I remember the way you said you wanted it to work. Population studies. Rehabilitation center. Animal preserve. Did you ever get the white-tail deer breeding program started?” Her head felt as if it had a band tightening around it. “Guess you’re keeping cattle, too, since Eli is raising a calf?” She stopped as the car pulled up in front of the house. Crippling anxiety gripped her, the throbbing pulse around her skull excruciating.

  Any second Amy was going to walk out that front door. Any second Hunter was going to put his arm around Amy, his wife, and they were all going inside to have a meal together. Why had she come? She felt very nauseous.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She looked at him, watching the traces of amusement turn into concern. “I’m not sure. I’m feeling a little...off.”

  His forehead creased as he stared at her face. “You’re really pale.” His hand touched her cheeks and forehead. His touch felt so good. “But you feel cool. Let’s get you something to drink.”

  He climbed out of the car and walked around to her side. He opened the door, but she was paralyzed with fear.

  “Maybe I should go home. I feel weird about leaving Dad home alone.” Which was partly true.

  “Okay,” he said slowly. “You can leave. Once there’s some color in your cheeks and you don’t look like you’re gonna pass out. Don’t think this car would take a beating the way Granddad’s truck did.”

  She glared up at him. She pinched her cheeks, then smiled thinly. “There. Color in my cheeks.”

  He laughed. “Don’t make me pick you up, Jo.”

  She slipped from the car, grasping the roof for support.

  They stood th
ere, regarding each other in the warm rays of the setting sun. No one came out to greet them. Other than the faint coo of a dove, the moo of a distant cow and the slightly rhythmic whump of the windmill’s blades, it was quiet.

  “Drink?” he asked. He held out his hand awkwardly.

  She stared at it and pushed off her car, not taking it. “I think I can manage to walk to the door, Hunter. I’ll have my drink and hit the road and you can have a peaceful evening with the family.”

  “Eli’s out.” He sounded amused. “Fish, Archer and Ryder all have places of their own. But Renata still lives with Dad so she can take care of him. She always was a daddy’s girl.”

  Josie felt bile in her throat. He wanted her to sit through dinner with him and Amy? She felt angry suddenly.

  “Don’t you think it might be a little awkward?” She turned toward him. “Okay, a lot awkward.”

  “Why?” He looked genuinely surprised. “Why would being alone with me be awkward?”

  Josie was distracted by the shift of emotions on his face. The tone of his voice was soft but coaxing. He seemed to take a step toward her, rattling her from her silence.

  “Alone?” A full-fledged pounding began at the base of her skull. Shooting pain focused right behind her left eye.

  He nodded. “Let’s get you inside. You can lie down, have your drink, and once you’re better, you can leave, if that’s what you want to do.”

  “I should go now,” she argued. “Pretty sure it’s a migraine and once it gets started—”

  “You’ll be down for the count.” He nodded, slipping his arm around her for support. “You’re not driving, Jo. It wouldn’t be right or gentlemanly.”

  “You could be a gentleman and drive me home now.” She didn’t have the energy to argue, but she refused to lean into him.

  “In a bit.” He swung her up into his arms.

  “Hunter—” His name escaped on a startled breath, right before she was bombarded with his scent. Everything about him was familiar. The earthy spice of him, the strength of his arms, the warmth he exuded, the feel of his breath against her forehead. It was sweet torture. “I can walk,” she bit out, sitting rigidly in his arms. She would not relax. She would not melt in his arms and press herself to him. She would not kiss his neck or run her hands through his thick, dark blond hair. She would not think of doing those things, either.

  He carried her into the house, ratcheting up her nerves. This was how she was going to see Amy? In his arms? Her whisper was urgent. “Please put me down.”

  And he did. On the couch. “Sit,” he murmured before leaving the room.

  “Bark bark,” she muttered childishly. Her gaze bounced around the room, searching, waiting.

  He laughed. “You still do that?”

  “You still order people around?” she snapped.

  He left and then walked back with a glass of water and a bottle of pain pills. He sat on the coffee table opposite the couch, offering them to her.

  She stared at him, deciding whether to take the offered answer to her pain or suffer through out of sheer stubbornness. She took the bottle and the water.

  “Still get migraines?” he asked.

  She shrugged, pouring a couple of pain relievers into her hand before putting the lid back on the bottle. “Sometimes.” She glanced at him. “Still have sneezing fits?”

  “Sometimes.” He smiled. “Still painting? I mean, other than your illustrations.”

  “Yes.” It was ironic that, even though she’d been desperate to leave the state of Texas and everything about it, Texas landscapes were one of her favorite things to paint. “Still write poetry?”

  “No.” He stared down at her. “You wanna lie down? Eli’s room is a mess, but you can rest in mine if you want.”

  Rest in his room? Amy’s room?

  She shook her head. “No, thank you. If I lie here for a minute, will you let me leave?”

  He stood over her, still smiling. “I’m not kidnapping you, Jo. You can go whenever you want to go. As long as you can make it all the way back into town with no problems.”

  She sat up and felt instantly nauseous.

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “Stop being so stubborn and lie down.”

  “I’m stubborn?” she snapped as she lay back on the cushions of the couch.

  “Relax for a few. Dinner’s almost ready.” He winked at her. “The protein’ll do you some good.”

  She pulled her gaze from him, shaking her head. “Where is everyone again?” Being alone with him wasn’t good for her. She didn’t like feeling so vulnerable, so needy. As a matter a fact, she was feeling way too much right now. Even with her pounding head, she was preoccupied with thoughts of being wrapped in his arms.

  “Eli’s spending the night with a friend. My brothers have their own places. They’re probably off doing what grown men do.” Hunter shrugged.

  “That sounds...dangerous,” she muttered, waiting for the rest. But Hunter didn’t say a thing about Amy. She narrowed her eyes. He was going to make her ask, wasn’t he? She started to, but couldn’t. It had taken her a long time not to wince just thinking Amy’s name. She sure as hell wasn’t going to say it, out loud, here.

  She’d turn up sooner or later—she always did.

  “No interruptions. You rest. I’ll work. You can eat later and I’ll drive you home.”

  She continued to glare at him, even as she lay back on the couch cushions. Her head was pounding, making her ears ring. She closed her eyes, trying to relax. But she couldn’t.

  She was alone with Hunter. Just the two of them. She opened her eyes, looking for him.

  The place had changed, but it still felt the same. The inside had obviously been gutted and redone. The walls were painted a warm cream with knotty wood trim. The ceiling was dark, with heavy exposed beams. The cast-iron wagon-wheel chandelier was the same. So was the wood-burning stove in the far corner.

  But the room felt bigger—was bigger. The dining room was now part of this room—separated by a long brown leather sofa. On the far wall, beneath a huge picture window, was Hunter’s old-fashioned drafting table. Her mouth went dry at the memories that table stirred up.

  They’d spent most of that morning bringing in the round hay bales in the tractor. Once they’d been left alone, she’d dragged him inside with obvious intentions. Her lips had fastened on his neck, tasting the salt of his sweat. When her lips suckled and nipped at his earlobe, he’d tugged her jeans off, tossing them hurriedly over his shoulder before grasping her hips and setting her onto the table. With his jeans around his ankles, he’d loved her hard and fast. How could she remember the feel of him, as though he was with her now?

  They’d been young, too young... But they’d loved each other, really loved each other. And then life—Amy—had gotten in the way.

  She swallowed. Her head was spinning. She needed to get the hell out of here. She needed to put as much space between them as possible. The only way to do that was to get rid of her headache.

  She took a slow, steady breath and forced herself to relax against the pillows.

  * * *

  HUNTER SET THE TABLE as quietly as he could.

  She’d been asleep for almost an hour. But he knew the longer she slept, the better she’d feel.

  He moved to the couch and stared down at her.

  The years hadn’t touched her. She’d never been a fan of makeup, so her skin was still smooth and silky. She had some faint lines bracketing her mouth and eyes, where she crinkled when she laughed. And when she laughed, she looked so damn beautiful.

  He ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. If he could go back in time, follow her, he would.

  No, he wouldn’t. Because then he wouldn’t have Eli. And as much as he regretted losing Jo, he loved his son.

  Jo stirred, her movements capturing his attention. Her mouth parted, then smiled slightly as she turned onto her side. There was a flutter of movement under her eyelids, and she sighed.

  He spread the
blanket from the back of the couch over her before heading into the kitchen. He turned down the stove and put the salad back in the refrigerator. Dinner would keep—she needed sleep.

  Once he’d turned off all the lights, he went to his desk and opened his laptop. He glanced at her, then at the desk. He’d had to patch the lid after Amy had ripped it off at the hinges. She couldn’t stand the H.B. + J.S. that he’d carved into the wood. Even though he’d been the one to replace the lid, he still looked for the carving whenever he opened the desk for supplies.

  Did Jo have someone special? As much as he wanted her, he wanted her happiness more. He wondered if she’d made any other men as happy as she’d made him. She probably had. Eleven years was a long time to go without. And Jo was a passionate woman. He remembered that about her with great fondness.

  Everything about her was like a living, breathing fire. From her sparkling eyes and lightning-fast humor to her equally fast temper and her instant and all-consuming desire. She’d been every young man’s dream.

  His gaze wandered back to her. She was still his dream.

  A distant rumbling made him glance out the window. The sky was flashing. They needed the rain. There was a burn ban in effect and two fires had already claimed thousands of acres on surrounding properties. All it took was one asshole throwing his still burning cigarette butt out the window and, poof, a whole season’s worth of work was up in smoke.

  Maybe he should wake her. If it rained too hard too fast, the road would wash out and he wouldn’t be able to get her back home. Not home, to Carl’s, he reminded himself. She didn’t live here anymore and Texas had never been her idea of home. He’d thought he might be able to change that once, but he knew he didn’t have that kind of clout now.

  He forced himself to work, reading over his students’ notes on the dog they had in clinic at the moment. Vitals were good. The leg was healing. He flipped the page back, skimming the latest X-rays of the fracture. If they kept on track, they’d be able to send him home before Christmas, which meant Hunter might be patient-free for the holidays.

  The windowpane rattled as thunder hit—closer now. A blinding flash of lightning flooded the room with white light.