The Cowboy's Christmas Family

by Donna Alward

  She could use words at this moment, give assurances. But she remembered that words were just that and sometimes it was actions that were required. And right now she wanted to show him how she felt. Needed him to know that she was willing to meet him halfway, that he wasn’t alone in this.

  She wanted him to know that their relationship was a shared responsibility, not one where he gave and she did all the taking.

  So she reached for the buttons on his shirt and started to undo them, one by one, pulling the tails of his shirt out of his jeans. Desire and excitement curled through her, urging her fingers on as she pushed the open shirt wide across his chest and pressed a kiss to his warm skin. He shuddered beneath her touch and she closed her eyes for a minute, being wholly in the moment.

  “Maddy,” he whispered, and she took his hand and led him down the hall to her room.

  Quietly, reverently, they undressed in the dark, and Maddy pulled down the covers of the bed. Cole stood on the opposite side of the bed, a hungry look in his eyes. She held out her hand and they met in the middle on the soft sheets: mouth to mouth, skin to skin, heart to heart.

  And when Maddy fell back against the pillows, it truly felt like a new and awesome beginning.

  Chapter Fifteen

  She sneaked out of bed while Cole was still sleeping. Months of being a mom meant she could hear the boys stirring; she silently slipped on a robe and tiptoed out of the bedroom, quietly padding down the hall and opening their door.

  There was nothing like waking in the morning and being greeted by their smiles. Well, maybe one thing was nicer, she amended in her head. It was pretty darn fantastic waking up next to Cole.

  As quietly as she could, she got the boys up and changed their diapers before taking them downstairs to get ready for Christmas morning. She turned on the tree lights and got them each a sippy cup of juice to hold them over until breakfast when her parents got here...

  Her parents. Oh, Lord, she’d forgotten. And Cole was upstairs in bed...and she’d forgotten to stuff the stockings for the boys. Thank goodness they were too young to realize! She darted off to the closet for the little bags of stuffers she’d bought and hurriedly tucked them inside the little stockings.

  She made a pot of coffee and figured she should get Cole up soon so he could at least be dressed before her parents arrived. But there was no need. His footsteps sounded on the stairs and he arrived, fully dressed in his jeans and shirt from last night. There was a shadow of stubble on his jaw and to Maddy he looked perfect.

  “Merry Christmas,” she said softly as he got to the final step.

  “It is, isn’t it?” He grinned at her. “And look what’s under the tree.”

  She turned around and saw that the twins had crawled underneath the lowest branches and had each grabbed a stocking, pulling the contents out left and right.

  “And this is why nothing got put under the tree until just before we left last night!” Maddy laughed and jumped into the fray, trying to make some order out of the chaos. The boys thought it was a game and items went in and out of the stockings for several minutes until everyone was laughing.

  “My parents are coming over. I understand if you want to get home.” Maddy handed him a cup of coffee with one sugar. “But if you want to stay...”

  “If?”

  “Well, I am making Christmas breakfast. And dinner is at Mom and Dad’s tonight, and I know you’d be welcome. I can’t believe they were in on the secret Santa thing all along.”

  “They want you to be happy, too.”

  She curled up against his side. “Well, lucky for them,” she observed. So far the boys were ignoring the presents and playing with the contents of their stockings, so she let well enough alone. “I just feel badly that I don’t have anything for you.” She’d thought about it, right up until the day they’d parted ways. Now she wished she’d bought some little trinket he could unwrap.

  “Are you kidding? Having you and the twins under the tree today is just what I wanted. But that does remind me...”

  He extricated himself from her embrace and went to where his coat was hanging on the hook. “I seem to have a little something in here for you.”

  Cole took a small rectangular box from the pocket. It was white and tied with silver ribbon, and Maddy accepted it with trembling hands. “Cole, you shouldn’t have. Oh, gosh. When did you...”

  “I bought it a week or so ago and grabbed it before we left last night. Open it.”

  She did, and it was a heart-shaped silver pendant on a fine chain. Nothing overly extravagant, but sweet and thoughtful and a bit sentimental. Just like him, apparently, and she was incredibly touched.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, laying the pendant against her palm. “Thank you so much.”

  He took it from her hands and unhooked the clasp, putting it around her neck. “There,” he said, dropping a kiss on the back of her neck. “Perfect.”

  She turned around and pressed a kiss to his lips. “This Christmas keeps getting better and better,” she teased, and they forgot about the stocking stuffer carnage as they kissed long and deep.

  And when the kiss ended, he hugged her, which was almost as good.

  “There’s one thing I meant to ask you last night,” he said when they finally went to the sofa to sit down. “How did you find out what you did about Gavin?”

  Maddy tucked one leg beneath her and thought about what she could say and what she couldn’t. The fear in Laura’s eyes had been real. That much she was sure of.

  “I can’t tell you. And it’s not that I want to have secrets. I don’t, Cole. But I promised I wouldn’t say a word, and I have to keep that promise until I’m told otherwise. No one is even supposed to know, and you can’t say anything. I do hope I can tell you someday, though.” She paused, took his hand in hers. “All I can say is that it doesn’t matter now. I mean, I wish I could exonerate him. But I understand why I can’t. And I know that doesn’t help you at all.” She gave a short laugh. “I guess what I’m saying is, the important thing is that it’s all good. And it really is.” She lifted his hand and placed a kiss on his knuckles.

  “If it’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me. Whatever happened, I’m glad.”

  “Mummm mummm mummm.”

  Maddy looked down to find Luke holding a square box, bouncing on his chubby knees. “Hold on, sweetie,” she said, taking the box from him. At the same time she saw her parents’ car pull in behind Cole’s truck. “Mom and Dad are here.”

  “Well, then let’s wish them merry Christmas.” He got up and pulled her close for one last kiss. “To tide me over until we’re alone again,” he said, nipping at her lip.

  She stood on tiptoe and gave him a tight hug. “Cole?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I thought of something I can give you for Christmas.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “I thought you did that last night.”

  Her parents were coming up the walk. “Not that.” She put her hand on the side of his face. “I love you, Cole.”

  His smile was wide and joyous. “And that,” he replied, “is the best gift ever.”

  * * * * *

  Look for Donna Alward’s next American Romance novel, THE COWBOY’S CONVENIENT BRIDE, available in January 2016 wherever

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from HER HOLIDAY RANCHER by Cathy McDavid

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  Her Holiday Rancher

  by Cathy McDavid

  Chapter One

  What the small brown mare lacked in size, she more than made up for in muscle and determination. Lowering her head, she put all her weight into her forequarters and plowed up the mountainside. With each powerful step, dirt and small rocks exploded from beneath her hooves, tumbling downward like a miniature landslide.

  Gabriel Dempsey rode the mare hard to the top of the rise. Once there, they stopped to rest, both of them breathing hard, their legs trembling. Despite her exertion, the mare would keep going if he asked. She wasn’t just young and strong. The blood from generations of wild mustangs ran in her veins, infusing her with a spirit and unbreakable will unmatched by any other breed of horse.

  No, it was Gabe who couldn’t go on. He was spent. Utterly and completely exhausted. Not from the trail ride, but from the emotional events of the past four days.

  Exactly seventeen months and twenty-three days after the doctor’s initial prognosis, cancer had taken his father’s life.

  Today, the family had memorialized him in a service that had brought out half the town of Mustang Valley, along with a hundred other mourners from all over Arizona. Tomorrow Gabe and his family would spread August Dempsey’s ashes in the flower garden behind the house.

  His father would spend eternity where he, Gabe’s grandfather and great-grandfather had lived and toiled their entire lives, on the three-thousand-acre Dos Estrellas Ranch.

  Shading his eyes against the glaring afternoon sun, Gabe stared at the ranch nestled in the valley below. From this distance, the house, barns and outbuildings appeared deceptively small, like a painting hanging on a wall. Adding to the illusion were horses in the back pastures and sixteen hundred head of cattle dotting the extensive grazing lands beyond the pastures.

  Grief suddenly gripped Gabe’s chest like a giant metal vise, colder than the November wind ripping across the rise from the slopes of the nearby McDowell Mountains.

  He sat straight in the saddle, refusing to succumb to emotion or show the slightest sign of weakness. Even out here, where there wasn’t another living soul for two miles in any direction. The battle facing him at home promised to be a difficult one. This was only the beginning.

  Among all the mourners gathered at the ranch to pay their final respects to one of Mustang Valley’s greatest citizens were two strangers. Gabe’s half brothers. August Dempsey’s legitimate sons. Rumor had it, they’d come to claim their share of the Dos Estrellas Ranch, left to them by the father they barely knew. Gabe would know for sure tomorrow afternoon at the reading of the will.

  If they did inherit, he intended to fight them tooth and nail, regardless if he had a legal right to the ranch or not. He was the son who’d worked side by side with their father for over two decades. The son who was proud of his heritage and treasured it. Who loved the ranch with the same fervor and devotion as any Dempsey before him. He hadn’t left as a kid and never returned.

  Giving the mare a nudge, Gabe followed the narrow deer trail south as it alternately dipped, climbed and snaked. Not far below him, a line of barbed wire fencing ran parallel to the trail.

  The fence separated Dos Estrellas from its nearest neighbor and longtime cattle-ranching rival, the Small Change, though small was a misnomer. The ranch was twice the size of Dos Estrellas and these days, owner Theo McGraw ran close to thirty-five hundred head of fat, sassy cattle.

  Cancer was a greedy disease and had taken more than Gabe’s father. Astronomical medical bills continued to pour in daily, many of which weren’t covered by health insurance. With no choice, Gabe and his mother had sold off what they could, depleting Dos Estrellas’s resources. It wasn’t enough, and the wolves continued to prowl outside their door. Gabe and his half brothers might well wind up fighting over a pile of scraps.

  The trail abruptly veered west. Gabe and the mare dropped down into the mouth of a ravine thick with creosote, sage and cacti. Last month’s heavy rains had resulted in abundant desert foliage that had survived the recent cold snap and remained a vibrant green.

  At the bottom of the ravine, the mare halted. Lifting her head, she smelled the air, her ears pricked forward.

  “What do you see, Bonita?”

  Gabe had been raised around horses and trusted their instincts, especially those of a mustang born in the wild. Something was amiss.

  He sat still and listened, his eyes scanning the uneven horizon. Coyotes and bobcats regularly traveled this ravine, along with the occasional mountain lion. None were an immediate threat. Desert predators usually avoided humans. The mare’s survival instincts, however, were powerful, and she might attempt to flee.

  She didn’t, which Gabe found interesting. Whatever lurked in the bush clearly wasn’t a predator. What, then—

  A sharp, shrill screech pierced the air followed by a faint cry of distress. Pausing long enough to choose the best course, he set off in the direction of the sounds, taking the steep trail at a brisk trot, the fastest he dare go without endangering himself or Bonita.

  At the top of the rise, his heart stopped cold. The entire back half of a horse was submerged in a sinkhole, nearly up to the saddle horn. The horse’s head and front legs stuck out of the narrow opening at a painful and impossible angle, almost as if he were standing up. Covered with mud and wide-eyed with fright, the horse flailed helplessly.

  On the ground in front of the horse, beyond the reach of the sinkhole, a woman attempted to free him by jerking on the reins and calling out encouragements. Both woman and horse were clearly done in from the struggle. Without help, the horse would eventually die. Every moment counted.

  Gabe dug his boot heels into Bonita’s sides. The mare didn’t hesitate and carried them down the steep slope. More than once she nearly lost her footing, slipping and sliding over the rocky terrain. At the bottom, Gabe tugged hard on the reins, slowing Bonita and bringing her under control.

  “Are you okay?” he called to the woman, covering the remaining distance at a lope.

  “I need help.” She spared him the briefest of glances, paused for a fraction of a second, then went right back to pulling on the reins.

  Gabe’s brain registered two things simultaneously. First, there was no way in hell she was ever going to save that horse by herself. Maybe no one could. Second, he’d seen the woman a mere four hours earlier at the funeral. She’d sat in the rear pew of the crowded church next to her father, Theo McGraw, Gabe’s father’s rival.

  “Hang on.” Gabe jumped off Bonita and, leading the mare, approached Reese McGraw. “Got yourself in a fix here.”

  “I missed the hole. It was covered with twigs and dead leaves.”

  Sinkholes weren’t uncommon in the desert, especially after heavy rains, though they were generally larger. This particular hazard was deceptively small, measuring three and a half feet at its widest point, and easy to miss.

  “It happens,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Can you help me get him out?”

  “I’ll try.”

  She swallowed, and Gabe noticed the dried streaks on her cheeks. Had she been crying or was the cold wind responsible for her tears?

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No.” She shook her head, and a hank of shoulder-length strawberry blond hair loosened from its clip. As if sensing his gaze, she said, “I lost my hat when I bailed off.”

  “We’ll find it later.” The hat didn’t matter. He was simply trying to calm her. She’d need all her strength for the ordeal ahead, along with her concentration.


  She continued tugging on the reins, which the confused horse fought, jerking his big head to the side rather than using the added momentum to hoist himself out of the hole.

  “Take it easy,” Gabe said.

  “I can’t. If I do, he’ll sink deeper.”

  “No, he won’t. Trust me.” Gabe put up a restraining hand. “Hold steady, but don’t pull. Not yet. Wait until I tell you to.”

  “What are you going to do?” Worry filled her eyes.

  Gabe hadn’t noticed their vibrant green color before. Then again, he generally avoided Reese. “Well, if we can’t drag him out, I’ll ride for help.”

  Neither of them voiced aloud what they were doubtless thinking; there may not be time for that. Who knew the depth of the hole? One wrong move, and the horse’s own weight could drag him under the mud.

  Gabe decided he’d seen enough death for one week. If it was at all humanly possible, he would save this horse.

  “Focus on keeping his head up,” he told Reese.

  Gabe lined up Bonita next to her. The mare obediently stood quiet. Next, he removed the coil of rope from his saddlebag and fastened one end to a metal ring on the right side of his saddle. Letting out rope a foot at a time, he neared the panicked horse.

  “Easy now, partner,” he cooed. “That’s right.”

  Sides heaving and nostrils flaring, the big paint stared at Gabe. Perhaps his imagination was working overtime, but he swore the horse understood he was trying to help.

  He continued talking to the paint as he pondered how best to fasten the rope. Simply around the head wouldn’t provide enough leverage. They’d strangle the horse before they rescued him. No way could he feed the rope beneath the horse’s chest and behind his front legs, which would be ideal. He’d likely injure his hand in the process.