A Texas Holiday Reunion

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter

  He let out a heavy breath. “Felicity couldn’t help the way she was. Her mom was cold toward her, let the nanny raise her. Her dad tried to make up for it, and spoiled her terribly. She could never see past what she wanted, as if no one else mattered in her world. I hope I’m not following their pattern with Cheyenne.”

  “You’re not. You’re a great dad and I don’t see any sign of you spoiling her.”

  “I try.” His vulnerability tugged at Resa.

  She yawned. “I better get to my room, before I fall asleep sitting here.”

  He stood, followed her to the door. “Maybe we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Maybe.” More than anything, she wanted to hug him. To feel his arms around her. Give him comfort. Instead, she turned to the door, tugged it open and bolted across the hall to her room. Her longing to get away from him warred with her longing to get closer to him.

  * * *

  It had been a long day, much of it filled once again with thoughts of father and daughter. Why did she miss them? Not him, just Cheyenne. Yeah, right.

  As Resa slid in her key card, the door across the hall behind her opened. She squeezed her eyes shut, both eager for and dreading the sight of him.

  “Resa!”

  She turned, just in time to catch Cheyenne as she hurled herself into her legs. “Hey, sweet pea. Did you play on the beach today?”

  “Me and Daddy built a huge sand castle and we picked up little bitty shells.” She dug in her pocket, pulled out a handful of treasures. “It was weird. The water would rush in and the shells wash up, but some of them sucked down into the sand. Daddy said there were little sea creatures living in them. But I picked up empty shells.”

  “They’re beautiful.” Resa knelt to eye level with the child, but chanced a glance at Colson. He was leaning against the door to their room, hands stuffed in his pockets.

  “Are you done working for the day?” The hopeful lilt in Cheyenne’s tone turned Resa’s insides to jelly.

  “Yes. But I’m so tired.”

  “Oh.” Cheyenne’s bottom lip stuck out in a sulk. “I was hoping you’d come to supper with us. We’re going to Snoopy’s Pier.”

  “I love seafood. But I was planning to order room service.” In her jammies. And eat in bed.

  “But we won’t make you run or nothing. You’ll just get to sit there and eat.”

  Resa chuckled.

  “Don’t bother Resa, princess. Let’s go so she can get some rest.”

  “She’s not bothering me.” Resa’s gaze dueled it out with his.

  “Then you’ll come with us?” Cheyenne prompted.

  “I’d love to.”

  “Yay!” Cheyenne clapped her hands. “Let’s go.”

  “Can you give me a minute? Let me freshen up.”

  “You don’t need to. You’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you, sweet pea, but—”

  “Isn’t she beautiful, Daddy?”

  Colson cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. But I think Resa might want to grab her flip-flops. She’d have a hard time walking the beach in her heels and skirt.”

  “I doubt there’ll be much beach walking, since it’s dark, but my feet are killing me. Tell you what, y’all go down to the lobby and I’ll meet you there in just a few minutes.”

  “Okay.” Cheyenne took Colson’s hand and they headed for the elevator.

  Resa opened her door, stepped inside, leaned her back against the wall and kicked her shoes off. How had she ended up agreeing to dinner with them? While she was falling in love with his daughter, it seemed Colson had also finagled his way into her heart again. How had she let it happen?

  * * *

  “Yum.” Cheyenne’s fish and chips were half-gone.

  Once their food arrived, things had gone quiet. For the first time, Colson noticed the chatter among other diners.

  Resa had barely said a word. He glanced at her, then away, out the window beside their table overlooking the beach. There was just a sliver of moon, but the restaurant lighting cast a glow over the shore. Enough to see movement below.

  “Look at the ghost crabs.” Colson pointed with his fork.

  “Why are they ghosts, Daddy?”

  “They’re not, and I told you, there’s no such thing as ghosts. They just call them that because they’re the same color as the sand and it makes it hard to see them.”

  “Oh. Do they pinch people?”

  “Maybe if you try to pick them up or accidentally step on them.”

  “Were they on the beach when we were there today, Daddy?”

  “No, princess. They mostly come out at night to eat.”

  “I don’t wanna walk the beach at night then.”

  “It’s probably too cool, anyway.”

  The clatter of silverware drew his gaze back to Resa.

  Her blue eyes large, she swallowed hard, and Colson suddenly noticed splotches all over her neck.

  “Resa, you’re all spotted.” Cheyenne frowned.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I think I’m having—” she gasped “—an allergic reaction.” She dug in her purse.

  “What can I do?” He got up, went to her side.

  She pulled something out of her purse, jammed it into her outer thigh, held it there for several seconds. “EpiPen.”

  “Should I call 911?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  He grabbed his phone, jabbed in the numbers, ready to hit Send.

  “I think I’ll be okay. Maybe outside. I need some air.”

  “Check, please.”

  Big tears rolled down Cheyenne’s face. He pulled her into his lap.

  “I’ll be okay.” Resa managed a tremulous smile. “Don’t worry.”

  Her breathing seemed to have eased, but her lips looked swollen.

  The waiter’s eyes went wide when he brought their ticket. “Ma’am, are you all right? Are you allergic to fish? Or shellfish?”

  “I’ve eaten it—” she sucked in air “—my whole life.”

  “Dr. Stan, over here,” the waiter urged.

  A silver-haired man got up from a table on the other side, rushed toward them.

  “See, there’s a doctor here.” Colson moved out of the way back to his side of the table, rocked Cheyenne, wiped her cheeks. “He’ll make sure Resa is okay.”

  “Please.” Resa pressed a hand against her throat. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you allergic to anything?” The doctor settled beside Resa, took her wrist, checked his watch. “Is this your plate? Fish, shrimp, crab?”

  “Yes. I’m allergic to bees. I already used my EpiPen.”

  “Did you get stung?”

  “No.”

  “Any fish or shellfish allergies?”

  “No.”

  “Until now.”

  “But I’ve eaten seafood my entire life.”

  “Shellfish allergies are known to develop well into adulthood.”

  “So I can’t eat shrimp or crab anymore?” Resa sounded as if her life might be over.

  “Not unless you like feeling like this.”

  “My face feels funny.” She pressed a hand to her mouth and her eyes widened. “Are my lips swollen?”

  “Just a little.”

  “Actually, a lot. You look kind of like Daffy Duck.” Cheyenne giggled.

  Resa laughed.

  At least Cheyenne wasn’t scared anymore, but Colson needed to talk to her about not hurting feelings with her honesty.

  “Do you have another EpiPen—just in case?” the doctor asked.

  “Yes.”

  He turned to Colson. “Take her to the ER to make sure her symptoms don’t return.”

  �
�I will.”

  “Good.” He patted Resa’s arm. “After the ER, rest. Get some fresh air. Take Benadryl. Use cold compresses. Avoid hot showers and the sun.”

  “Thank you.” Colson stood, shook the man’s hand.

  “Don’t you worry, little darling, your mommy will be just fine.” The doctor gave Cheyenne a reassuring smile and returned to his table.

  “See?” Cheyenne looked up at him, all innocent. “Everybody thinks Resa is my mommy. So you should marry her, Daddy.”

  Resa scrambled to her feet. “I need air.” She fled for the exit as the waiter brought the receipt.

  Colson scribbled his name. “Young lady, stop with the mommy stuff.”

  “But I want Resa to be my new mommy.”

  “Trust me, I realize that. But Resa is sick. She doesn’t need anything else making her uncomfortable. And we don’t have that kind of relationship, anyway. Right now, can you focus on helping Resa feel better?”

  “Yes, Daddy.” Cheyenne’s gaze dropped to the floor.

  He scooped her up and hurried after Resa.

  * * *

  Resa opened her bedroom door.

  Colson was sprawled on her couch, Cheyenne asleep on the love seat.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Morning.” He sat up. “How do you feel?”

  “Fuzzy.”

  “You’re rocking the Angelina Jolie look.”

  Her hand went to her mouth. “Or Donald Duck.” She glanced at Cheyenne, who hadn’t even stirred since they started talking. “You stayed here last night?”

  “Cheyenne was worried about you. Let me get you some coffee.” He stood, strode to the kitchen.

  “I can’t even describe how awesome that sounds.” She followed and sank into a chair.

  “Knocked the stuffing out of you, huh?”

  “I called Nina when I woke up. Thanks for letting her know why I was a no-show for packing up this morning.”

  “No worries. Still three creamers, three sugars?”

  “Yep. A little coffee with my cream and sugar.”

  He handed her a steaming mug.

  “At least I’ve still got coffee.” She moaned. “No seafood ever again.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “I don’t remember anything after leaving the hospital.”

  “You zonked out as soon as we hit the road. I had to carry you in. Thankfully, Cheyenne stayed awake until we got to your room.”

  Carried her in? Her cheeks steamed. Safe and protected in Colson’s arms. Right where she wanted to be. Right where she couldn’t be. “Poor child. I ruined her supper.”

  “She was fine once you were.”

  Memories whirled. The doctor calling her Cheyenne’s mommy. Cheyenne’s challenge for them to make it so. Resa’s face heated, causing her cheeks to itch.

  “I need a cool shower. I still feel itchy.” She stood, cradled her mug in both hands.

  “Maybe after Cheyenne wakes up, we could go stroll the beach before we head out. You’ve worked so much, you never got to do that.”

  “Maybe.” Or she could hide in her room. Avoid him as she’d planned, until it was time to load up his truck.

  “What time do you want to leave?”

  “I’d like to make it home in time for evening services, since I missed this morning.”

  “We’ll be packed and ready.”

  She stopped, turned to face him. “I’m glad y’all were here. I’d have been all alone in the restaurant last night and ended up in an ambulance.”

  “Actually, you’d have ordered room service and not gotten sick. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  This afternoon, they’d make the three-hour drive home. Then maybe things would get back to normal. And she might get her heart under control.

  Yet deep down, she wished they didn’t have to leave. That they could stay here forever and enjoy idyllic days on the beach together.

  Chapter Twelve

  The bedroom door opened. Resa emerged looking fresh. Wearing long shorts, a royal blue T-shirt, light sweater and flip-flops, she walked toward them, causing Colson’s stomach to flip.

  “Resa.” Cheyenne darted toward her, then stopped. After a furtive glance toward Colson, she closed the gap between them slowly and gave her a gentle hug.

  At least she’d remembered his caution about Resa being weak.

  “I won’t break. You can hug me better than that.”

  “Daddy said you’re weak and itchy.”

  “The shower helped the itchy, but I am kind of puny.”

  “Can we go to the beach now?”

  “Resa might not be up for that.” The instinct to cradle her in his arms, protect her, welled within Colson. “You hungry?”

  “I’m starving.” Resa clasped a hand to her empty stomach.

  “We could go back to Snoopy’s Pier, since we didn’t get to finish eating last night.” Cheyenne’s eyes widened and she clamped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, sweet pea. There’s still lots of other things I can eat.”

  “We could have a picnic on the beach.” Cheyenne cast hopeful eyes on Resa.

  “I can’t think of anything better. But my stomach may not be up to food just yet.”

  “The water’s too cold, but we can pick up shells!” Cheyenne gave her usual little bounce.

  “And then you can take a nap.”

  “I’m not sure I can stay out that long, though. The sun might make me itchy.”

  “But we have one of those huge umbrellas. It’s in our room.”

  “We’ll see how it goes.”

  “Come on.” Cheyenne grabbed Resa’s hand, jumped up and down.

  “Don’t rush her, princess.”

  “I’m fine.” Resa smiled. “Let’s go.”

  She was obviously enamored with his child. With her niece.

  Colson gathered the blanket and umbrella and they made their way to the elevator. Other travelers—a few businessmen, a couple and a boisterous family—surrounded them. Several smiles were sent their way, as if they were a cute family.

  The long walk to the beach seemed to tire Resa. He spread the blanket well away from the damp sand and set up the umbrella.

  “Everything okay with the trade show?”

  “Fine. We made lots of sales, took a boatload of orders. Nina and the crew loaded all the leftovers in the truck.”

  “Come wade with me, Resa.” Cheyenne wiggled her toes in the sand.

  “Let me sit here a minute.” She sank to the blanket, in the shade of the umbrella.

  “I think Resa might need to rest after all that walking.” Colson tugged his daughter toward the beach. “I’ll wade with you.”

  “Okay.” She smiled up at him, as if he was still the center of her world.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he called to Resa.

  “It’s wonderful to be outside. Go on, I’ll be right here.”

  He and Cheyenne ran toward the water, staying a few feet away from the wet sand. Her squeal as the tide rushed toward them warmed his heart. More squealing sounded as, hand in hand, they ran along the shore as the waves rolled in and out.

  After several hundred yards, they turned around and went back the way they’d come. Cheyenne picked up a few shells, put them in the plastic bag he’d brought along.

  “Did you see that, Daddy?”

  “What?”

  “That shell just sucked down in the sand.”

  “I want to see.” Resa joined them.

  Cheyenne clasped her hand. “Watch the shells on the beach real close when the tide rolls out.”

  The water rushed out and, sure enough, several shells were sucked down into
the sand.

  “Cool.” Resa knelt to pick up one that stayed still.

  But Colson grabbed her hand. “In light of what happened last night, do you think you should touch them.”

  “I hadn’t even thought of it.” Her gaze dropped to his hand, still holding hers.

  He let go, picked up the shell for her and stashed it in Cheyenne’s bag.

  “I bet if we go way over there—” Resa pointed “—where there are fewer people, we could find more shells.”

  Colson scanned the beach peppered with tourists, then the expanse of unoccupied sand in the distance. “That’s quite a way off. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  “If we go slow.” Resa shielded her eyes from the sun. “I’m having the time of my life. It’s not every day I get to help Cheyenne find shells.”

  “If you get tired, we’ll rest. And I can carry you back if I need to.” His heart pinged. He certainly wouldn’t mind having her in his arms again. “And we’ll take the umbrella.” He went and dug it out of the sand, then held it over her as they strolled along.

  “I have a shell book at home.” Resa scanned the horizon.

  “A shell book?” The wonder in Cheyenne’s words was infectious.

  “It has pictures of all different kinds of shells and tells what kind they are, what kinds of creatures live in them, where to find them and how to tell them apart.”

  “Wow.”

  “When we get back to the ranch, we’ll use it to see what kind of shells we’ve gathered.”

  “Where did you get it? Your book?”

  “My mom got it for me. I’ve always loved seashells.”

  “Have you been here before?”

  “Once. My family always visited Surfside Beach on vacation. It’s close to Galveston. I have a whole shell collection from there. I’ll let you see it if you want.”

  “Wow.”

  As the bond between them strengthened, Colson was powerless to stop it. Everything in him wanted to grab Cheyenne up and flee. But he couldn’t. He was stuck at the ranch for another week. Helplessly watching Cheyenne bond with her aunt. With guilt eating at him for keeping them in the dark.

  * * *

  After a long first day back at his home-away-from-home, Colson headed to the house. He’d survived watching over Resa following the shellfish incident, the day at the beach spent with her, the drive home. He’d sat near her at evening services last night, then managed to avoid her all day today.