Seated at the head table, Resa avoided his gaze. Maybe he should have stayed in the truck. Steered clear of Emmett. And her.
But one glimpse of Resa still twisted his insides into a pretzel.
Forget-me-not blue eyes still beautiful despite the hurt he’d put there—turned icy when she looked at him. Her silken inky hair, creamy skin, delicate features always turned heads. Her lacy red dress only highlighted her beauty. Yet she’d never married. Never even dated after him, from what he’d heard through the grapevine.
After what he’d done to her, she probably thought he and all other men were just like her brother. And Colson had purposely let her think it.
His father pushed his plate away. “There was a time when I thought you might marry her.”
Colson’s breath caught. “Who?”
“Who.” Dad chuckled. “That girl you haven’t taken your eyes off of. That spring when you worked at the ranch and y’all dated, I thought it would last.”
“I had to do the right thing.” He’d turned his back on her. “Felicity needed me. And now that she’s gone, I have to focus on Cheyenne.”
“But things are different now. And Cheyenne could use a woman in her life.” Dad patted his knee. “Just because your marriage wasn’t good—just because your mother divorced me—it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give love a chance. Look at them.”
The elder McCalls exchanged a kiss. There was a lifetime of love obvious in their smiles.
But his mother hadn’t only left Dad behind. She’d left Colson. Not because she’d died, but on purpose. One day, she’d thrown him the perfect birthday party. The next day, she ran off with another man. Never looked back, called, sent letters or emails. Nothing.
At the tender age of nine, he’d decided to never love another woman. And he hadn’t. Not even Felicity. Until Resa McCall got to him. Took him to church. Introduced him to Jesus. And by trusting in a man he couldn’t see, he’d learned to trust her. Had fallen for her.
But then his past mistakes had caught up with him. Felicity had dropped her bomb. In doing the right thing, he’d left Resa feeling abandoned, just as he’d felt when his mother had left. Trashed any chance of anything happening with the only girl he’d ever loved. Trashed her heart in the process.
Her gaze met his, then skittered away.
The longing to explain boiled in his gut. To tell her why he’d married Felicity. To share how miserable his marriage had been. To dislodge the distrust he’d embedded in Resa’s eyes. To make it up to her, the only person he’d ever intentionally hurt. His time working here would be easier if he cleared the air. But if she didn’t hate him anymore, his heart might end up in very dangerous territory.
He had to focus on his daughter. And even though Felicity had lied to him, made his life miserable, she hadn’t deserved to die. He didn’t deserve to be happy and he couldn’t risk Cheyenne’s biological family learning the truth.
Of all the places he needed to avoid, Bandera, Texas, was top of the list. Yet here he was. For the next three weeks until her parents returned. Maybe even the full seven weeks until the ranch foreman could come back to work. Gripping his secret and his heart with both fists.
Silverware clinked on glass as Duncan McCall stood. “I want to thank everyone for coming this weekend. A special thanks goes to our daughter, Resa, for pulling this together, all without letting her mother in on our scheme until our guests started showing up. And our gracious hosts went above and beyond to accommodate our guests and recreate our wedding day.
“Maryann and I have loved catching up with all of our friends over the weekend.” Duncan raised his glass of sparkling cider. “But we’ve long dreamed of going on a cruise. And since our plane leaves in a few hours, I’m afraid we need to get going.”
The four family members stood, did the group hug thing as the guests applauded.
“Maybe you can help Resa clean up,” Dad whispered.
Something squeezed in his chest. Exactly what Colson didn’t want to do. But he might as well get used to it. At least until Christmas Eve, she’d be stuck with him.
“When will you tell her about Juan?”
“After Maryann and Duncan leave.” Dad lowered his voice even more. “If they find out, they’ll cancel their cruise. I’m just glad you can stay and fill in for him. She’ll have a lot on her plate.”
Given a choice, she’d probably take letting one of her inexperienced hands attempt to run the ranch. Do without a foreman rather than work with him. But during this forced nearness between them, maybe keeping her ranch running smoothly would in some small measure make up for the way he’d hurt her six years ago.
Colson just needed to bide his time here, get his head and heart together. Once this gig was over, he could go back to Kingsville. Back where nothing mattered but Cheyenne.
* * *
“None of your usual antics.” Dad jabbed a finger at Emmett.
Resa loved her brother, but he was so transparent. He’d never step foot in the office or ranch during their absence.
“Who, me?” Emmett raised his hands in surrender, his playful smile oozing charm.
Bringing Emmett home to help had been Mom’s idea. She hoped these three weeks would give him stability, teach him responsibility. But Resa didn’t see it happening. The doubt reflected in Dad’s eyes said he didn’t, either.
“You’re here to lend a hand. Not to flirt. Be a help to your sister, not a hindrance.”
“We’ll be fine.” She gave each of her parents a reassuring hug. “Don’t worry, have fun, and get out of here or you’ll get held up at the airport and miss your flight.”
“Are you certain you’ll be all right? I hate for you to be alone through the Christmas rush.” Mom twirled a strand of Resa’s hair between her fingers. “We should have stopped taking orders months ago to cut your workload while we’re gone.”
“I’m fine. It’s only a few weeks. Juan can handle the ranch, Mac’s got the store. Emmett’s here to help and y’all will be back in time for Christmas.” She tried to sound convincing, and plastered on a smile. “You’ve looked forward to this trip your entire marriage.” She picked up a suitcase, handed it to Dad. “Now go.”
“You’re right.” Dad kissed the top of her head. “You’ve got this, with or without Emmett.”
“Hey.” Emmett glowered. “I came when you called, didn’t I? Don’t I get credit for that?”
“I’ll get a full report when we return.” Dad frowned. “No trifling with our employees. It’s against company policy.”
“If you trust me so little, why did you call me?” The hurt in Emmett’s tone was backed up by his wounded gaze.
But Dad didn’t soften. “Here’s your chance to show me what you got.”
“Stop worrying.” Mom clucked her tongue. “Emmett’s not a kid anymore. He’ll be fine.” She checked her watch. “We really should be going.”
Another round of hugs and Resa managed to hold the tears threatening to spill.
“Your mother made me promise not to check in,” Dad whispered. “But you’ll call if anything goes wrong?”
“I will. But it won’t.”
Mom tugged him out the door.
“You’re not coming back, are you?” Resa murmured to Emmett, just loud enough for him to hear.
“Of course not. You don’t need me hanging around. You got this.”
True. But just once, it would be nice to be able to count on her brother.
“I’ll be back for the Christmas open house this weekend, and then the night before their return.” Emmett followed them out, stashed their suitcases in the trunk of his Ferrari and helped Mom into the back seat.
Standing on the porch, Resa waved until they rounded a curve on the wooded property and were out of sight.
Guests began
to disperse and she thanked each one for coming.
As soon as the last one exited, she crossed the lobby to help Landry, her friend and owner of the dude ranch, clean up.
“Resa, we need to talk.”
Mac.
She turned around to face him. There was Colson by his dad’s side.
“It’s business.” Mac gestured to the paneled door by the check-in counter. “Your friend said we could use the office.”
“Sure.” Why include Colson? He hadn’t been involved with the stores in six years. Resisting the urge to suck in a big breath, Resa crossed the foyer. Inside, Juan, the ranch foreman, waited in a nailhead wingback chair.
Mac settled on the leather sofa, with Colson flanking Juan in a matching chair.
“There you are.” The slight Mexican man straightened his left leg out in front of him. He’d always been kind and treated her with fatherly care. But today, his smile was jittery.
“What’s going on?”
“Have a seat.” Mac gestured to the sofa.
Nerves pinging—from Colson’s presence and Juan’s tone—Resa perched on the edge. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
“Just tell me.”
“As you know, I saw my doctor Friday.” Apology was thick in Juan’s voice. “He wants to do a knee replacement.”
Her jaw dropped. Please not until after Christmas. Not now. She couldn’t deal with not having a foreman. Not until Dad was here to fix it.
Stop being selfish. Focus on Juan. “Rest assured, I’ll take care of anything your insurance doesn’t cover.”
“I appreciate that, Miss Resa. It’s terrible timing. I wanted to tell you, but I knew if your folks knew, they’d cancel their trip.”
And they would have. It was just like Juan to know that. To worry about it.
“You just do what you need to do. When is the surgery scheduled?” Her ranch hung on his response.
“My doctor had a cancellation, so he can get me in Thursday. Or I wait for three months.”
Breath clogged in her chest. As in four days away. “I know how much pain you’ve been in. I don’t want you to put this off.”
“I need to go on leave as of now. Doc wants me to take six weeks afterward. I’m so sorry, Miss Resa.”
For a total of seven weeks, starting now. And what if the surgery wasn’t a success? What then?
But she tried not to let her distress show. “We’ll figure it out.”
“I took the liberty of doing that for you.” Juan turned to Colson. “I called Mr. Mac when I got the news.”
And that had what to do with Colson?
“Colson has agreed to fill Juan’s spot until your folks return. And if needed, until Juan can come back.” Mac’s tone was confident. As if all her worries were taken care of.
Colson. In Bandera. At her ranch. For three weeks. Maybe more. Her heart took a nosedive.
This could not be happening. She couldn’t let it.
Copyright © 2017 by Shannon Taylor Vannatter
ISBN-13: 9781488078859
The Lawman’s Yuletide Baby
Copyright © 2017 by Ruth M. Blodgett
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