A Cowboy for Christmas

by Stella Bagwell

  Dee pushed absently at the curls across her forehead. “Oh well, maybe we can change her mind about that. You will try, won’t you?”

  It had been a long time since he’d spent more than a few minutes with a woman who wasn’t kin to him. He’d almost forgotten what that felt like. Until tonight when he’d brought Lucinda home with him.

  Maybe it would be nice to have Lucinda Lambert’s company for a few days, he thought. She’d definitely be a treat for his eyes. And as for him being tempted to flirt with her? Well, what would it hurt if he did? He was a man, after all, and it wasn’t as if he were going to do anything foolish like fall in love with the woman.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he told his mother.

  *

  When Lucinda woke the next morning the bedroom was cast in a gray, eerie light. She felt groggy. Probably because for the first time in months she’d slept deeply all through the night. Maybe it had been those three aspirins that had knocked her out so completely, she thought. Or maybe she’d simply felt safe here in this house that Chance Delacroix called home. Whatever the reason, Lucinda felt more rested than she had in a long time.

  Throwing back the covers, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her ankle still looked swollen and was painfully sore when she attempted to move it in any direction, but at least the constant throbbing ache had stopped.

  Carefully she raised herself off the bed and hopped on her good foot until she reached a pair of long, arched windows.

  The view outside the paned glass surprised her as much as the sight of this house had last night. From what she could see the D Bar D wasn’t just a fancy ranch house pretending to be a ranch. There were barns and sheds everywhere she looked and an endless maze of holding pens and corrals. Numerous herds of black Angus cattle stood huddled together in the falling snow. Some of the luckier ones were being driven by cowboys on horseback to a long feeding shed with a roof over it.

  Lucinda peered closely at the cowboys, trying to see if Chance might be one of them, but they were too far away for a clear look. Which was just as well, she told herself, turning away from the window. She’d gone to sleep last night with the man on her mind, now he was right back on it again this morning. She didn’t like the idea of thinking about Chance Delacroix that much, but that was hardly enough reason to make her stop.

  Hopping back to the bed, she tried to assure herself that it wasn’t strange that she found him attractive. Any woman with eyes would. On top of that, she’d never known a cowboy before, or any man who worked with animals and the outdoors. That intrigued her about him. That and a whole lot more if she were honest enough to admit it.

  Lucinda was sitting on the side of the bed, rummaging through her purse for a powder compact when a light rap sounded on the door. She pulled on the blue robe Dee had brought to her last night and tied the sash before calling, “Come in.”

  A tall, young woman wearing a long corduroy skirt and matching rust-colored sweater entered the room. She was carrying a tray with an insulated coffeepot and a thin china cup. A warm smile spread across her face as she spotted Lucinda on the side of the bed.

  “Good morning,” she said cheerfully. “I’m Sarah Jane, Chance’s sister. Sorry I didn’t make it in to meet you last night. How are you feeling this morning? Did you sleep well?”

  Obviously Sarah Jane was just as warm and gracious as her mother. “I’m feeling much better. Your brother told me it was your engagement party last night. I hope my being here didn’t create a problem,” Lucinda told her.

  Sarah Jane laughed and Lucinda realized the woman was younger than herself, perhaps not much older than nineteen. Yet she seemed uncommonly poised for her age. She had copper red hair almost as long as Lucinda’s. The natural curls were tied back at her nape with a black velvet ribbon, and just looking at this young woman made Lucinda feel very unkempt.

  “Not in the least,” Sarah Jane assured her. “We hardly ever have the treat of having visitors here on the D Bar D. I do wish the snow had held off for a while, though. Everyone got worried about the roads and left the party early.”

  She set the tray down on the nightstand. “Would you like me to help you walk to the bathroom?”

  “Oh, yes!” Lucinda said with relief. “I was just sitting here wondering if I could make it across this big room.”

  As though she’d known her for years, Sarah Jane put her arm around the back of Lucinda’s waist and gently helped her to stand on one foot. “Chance told us how he found your car. Lord, I’m glad I begged him to go after those lamb fries. Otherwise, you might have frozen out there!”

  “I’m very grateful to him. To all of you for your kindness,” Lucinda told her.

  Sarah Jane waved away her thanks. “It’s nothing. Really.”

  But it was something to Lucinda, who’d spent nearly all of her growing-up years in an orphanage. Without the kindness and generosity of strangers back then, she would have been lost and alone. The same way she would have been last night if Chance hadn’t come to her rescue.

  With Sarah Jane’s help, Lucinda managed to walk to the bathroom. While she made use of the facilities, Sarah Jane stood outside the door and chatted.

  “Doc says you should be walking fine by Christmas.”

  “Well, I guess that’s something to look forward to,” Lucinda said as cheerfully as she could. Though it was hard to look on the bright side when she knew her Christmas would be spent entirely alone.

  There was a hairbrush on the vanity. Lucinda pulled it through her tangled hair. It needed shampooing terribly, but she supposed that could wait until she got to a motel room. Which might be as soon as this evening, if the weather cleared and the wrecker service delivered her car.

  “Chance said you were from Chicago,” Sarah Jane spoke up again. “Are you vacationing?”

  “No.” With her hair finally free of tangles and brushed away from her face, she moistened a washcloth with warm water and pressed it to her eyes. “I’m actually—moving.”

  “Oh, really? How exciting! I’ve lived in this same house ever since I was born. I can’t wait to move.”

  Lucinda’s mouth twisted wryly at Sarah Jane’s comment. For so many years she’d longed to have a family and a real permanent home such as this. But that would be hard to explain to someone who’d never been without such things.

  “You don’t think you’ll miss your mother and brother?”

  “Oh, sure I will. But I’m only moving about five miles from here. If I want to visit, all I’ll have to do is ride or drive over.”

  Lucinda couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have such a network of family and friends, to know that if she had any sort of crisis in her life, there would always be someone close to help her through it.

  “I’m sure your family is pleased about that.”

  “Oh, yes. Especially Chance. He thinks I’m too young to be married anyway. And this way, he’ll be able to keep an eye on me.”

  Lucinda frowned at her pale image in the mirror. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “Not really. Oh, he’s overprotective most of the time. But he’s only that way because he loves me.”

  Yeah, Lucinda thought wearily, she’d heard that all before. Each time she’d caught Richard watching her every move, he’d told her he was doing it because he loved her. Well, as far as Lucinda was concerned she could do without that sort of love.

  Finished in the bathroom, Lucinda opened the door to find Sarah Jane waiting to help her back across the room. At the bed, she picked out a skirt and sweater from the things Dee had brought her last night and carried them behind a dressing screen.

  Sarah Jane made herself at home on the foot of the bed. “What did you do back in Chicago, Lucy?”

  “I design clothes.”

  Sarah Jane let out a small gasp of surprise. “Oh my, you must be very talented to make a living doing that. I mean, that’s not the sort of thing just anybody can go out and do.”

  Lucinda p
ulled a rose-colored sweater over her head. It fell past her hips and over a full skirt printed with tiny matching roses. “Don’t get me wrong, Sarah Jane, I’m only small-scale. But I sold enough things out of a little shop in Chicago to make a living for myself.”

  “Well, that’s certainly a start! A pretty grand one, I’d say.” She clapped her hands together. “Wait till Mother hears about this! She’ll love it!”

  Lucinda stepped from behind the screen and Sarah Jane immediately laughed. “I guess I’m a little taller than you.”

  Laughing with her, Lucinda glanced down at her borrowed clothes. “Only about five inches, but long hemlines are in style now. Especially when they hide a swollen ankle.”

  “If you’d rather, I could get you a pair of jeans,” Sarah Jane offered.

  “Oh no,” Lucinda assured her. “The skirt is very nice. I love the colors.”

  “You look very pretty in it.” Sarah Jane left her seat on the bed and began to carefully pull Lucinda’s hair out from the neck band of the sweater.

  Lucinda was touched by the simple gesture and wondered if it might have been like this if she’d had a sister. “Thanks,” she murmured once Sarah Jane had freed her hair, then hobbled over to the dresser where she’d left her purse and what little makeup she carried in it.

  While she dabbed on a bit of face powder and lipstick, Sarah Jane asked, “Are you married?”

  Lucinda shook her head. The word marriage left her cold now. She knew she shouldn’t feel that way. But she couldn’t help herself. “No. I think it’s not meant for me to be married.”

  Sarah Jane clucked her tongue, then laughed softly. “That’s what Chance says, too. But I think he’s wrong. I think you’re probably wrong, too.”

  Lucinda smiled wanly. It was obvious that Sarah Jane was young and in love and marriage seemed like a bright, beautiful union of two hearts. But that wasn’t the way it would have turned out for Lucinda.

  A few minutes later, the two women left the bedroom and went down to the kitchen where Dee had a cup of coffee and a wooden cane waiting for Lucinda.

  “I thought it would get you around until you’re able to put a little more weight on your foot,” she said of the cane.

  Lucinda was once again amazed. These people didn’t know her. They didn’t know what sort of life she’d led, or what kind of person she might be. But they treated her warmly and generously just the same.

  “Thanks, I’m sure it will be a big help,” she said, taking a seat at the breakfast counter.

  While she sipped the richly brewed coffee, Lucinda looked around the long room, which was actually part kitchen, part dining area. It was decorated with all sorts of Christmas items. There was everything from a tablecloth printed with prancing reindeer, to Santa Claus-shaped pot holders. Real spruce, pinecones and holly berries made up a huge centerpiece in the middle of the dining table, while poinsettia plants ranging from deep red to pale white sat on worktables, cabinet counters and atop the refrigerator.

  “This is all so beautiful,” Lucinda exclaimed. “I’ve never seen a kitchen decorated for Christmas before.”

  Dee smiled at Lucinda’s awed expression. “After you drink your coffee, you should go in and look at the living room, while Sarah Jane and I get breakfast ready. Chance should be in from the feedlots soon and then we’ll all eat.”

  The rest of the house turned out to be just as beautifully decorated as the kitchen. She was staring up at the huge Virginia pine in the living room when Chance’s voice sounded behind her.

  “We normally don’t put up the tree until a few days before Christmas, but this year we made an exception because of Sarah Jane’s party.”

  Lucinda turned to look at him and instantly felt her heart begin to hammer with foolish anticipation. She was glad to see him. There was no way she could deny it. Dee and Sarah Jane had been nice and helpful to her, but Chance was the one who’d gotten her out of the car and carried her through the snow, twice. He was her rescuer and she couldn’t help but feel a little bit close to him.

  “It’s magnificent. Did you help decorate it?”

  His gray eyes roamed over her rather than the tree. Lucinda didn’t know if the path of his gaze was intentional or not. But either way, she felt touched by him.

  “My job is to put on the lights. Mother and Sarah Jane do the rest.”

  He was wearing jeans and boots and a dark blue denim shirt. At the open throat she could see the banded neck of a thermal undershirt, to help keep him warm. This morning he was wearing a black hat similar to the one he’d worn last night, only this one was stained around the band with dirt and sweat. The brim was bent in places and rolled up in a tighter curl on the sides. Lucinda thought the hat fit him perfectly. It had much more character than the one she’d seen on him last night. Maybe that was because she somehow knew this particular hat was probably always on his head or in his hands.

  “I see you’ve been out working. Is the weather getting any better?”

  He shrugged. “Well, it’s not blizzard conditions anymore, but it is still snowing.” He took a few steps toward her. “How’s your ankle? Do you think you should be trying to hobble around on it this morning?”

  “If it hurts, I’ll quit,” she assured him.

  Chance was close enough to her now to see the infinite shades of green in her eyes, the smooth porcelain quality of her skin and the dusky pink color that stained her lips. He had a thousand things to do, but right now looking at her seemed to be the most important.

  “You don’t take orders very well, do you?”

  Lucinda had never heard a true Texas accent until she’d driven into the state yesterday and stopped in Amarillo to eat and service her car. Yet none of the men she’d encountered there had sounded quite like Chance Delacroix. His voice was deep, rich and slow. It shivered over her, curled around her with a warmth all its own.

  That warmth melted the cool distance she wanted to keep between them, and before she knew it, a smile was tilting the corners of her mouth. “Actually, I don’t.”

  “Then how are you with invitations?”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “You’re inviting me somewhere?”

  He held his arm out to her. “To breakfast. Have you ever eaten chorizo and eggs?”

  She took his arm and instantly scolded herself for liking the feel of it beneath her hand. “No. I haven’t.”

  “Do you like things hot?”

  Just what sort of things? she wondered, and glanced up to see a grin on his face that could only be described as sexy. before she could stop it, a deep blush of red swept across her cheeks.

  “Your food, Lucy. Do you like it hot?”

  “Sometimes. But I’ve never tried it for breakfast. Usually I’m in too big of a rush to eat anything in the mornings.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been living too fast,” Chance said.

  Lucinda had never considered her life fast. Back in Chicago she’d spent her days at work and her nights at home, alone. She’d certainly not had a man like Chance Delacroix inviting her to breakfast with him. And even if there had been an invitation from a man, Richard’s stalking would have made it impossible for her to accept it.

  Yet here she was in Texas, hanging on to Chance’s big arm and blushing like a schoolgirl. Had she lost her mind? Or had she just now become brave enough to live again?

  Chapter Four

  Scrambled with Mexican sausage and served with soft tortillas, the eggs were very hot, and equally delicious. Instead of the small breakfast counter, the four of them ate at the dining table.

  Lucinda sat at Sarah Jane’s right and directly across the table from Chance. She caught his eyes on her often and, each time she did, it jolted her right down to her toes.

  “Chance, did you know that Lucinda designs clothes?” Sarah Jane spoke up between bites of food. “She sold her things out of a shop in Chicago. Isn’t that the most exciting thing you’ve ever heard?”

  Chance glanced from his sister to Lucinda. “Is
that what you were doing when you left Chicago?” he asked.

  Lucinda nodded, wondering why she found it so difficult to think of Chance Delacroix as any other man. What was it about him that made her insides hot and shaky? Why did she notice every little thing about him?

  She didn’t know why she was intrigued by the way his black hair waved away from his forehead, the way his darkly tanned skin had been bitten by the cold wind and was now flushed red from the indoor heat. He hadn’t shaved this morning and she could see his beard was black and heavy. If she were to rub her cheek against his, she knew it would scrape her skin. Yet she knew it would be a pleasant sensation.

  “I—yes, I was,” she answered as she desperately tried to shove aside the thoughts running through her head.

  “Is that what you’re planning to do when you get to—” His brows lifted in question. “You never did say where you were going, did you?”

  Lucinda took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She knew he was purposefully trying to pull information out of her. And she supposed she shouldn’t blame him. If a stranger was staying in her house, she’d probably feel she was entitled to know a few things about the person. Still, she wasn’t used to confiding anything to anyone. Especially these past months when she’d had to watch everything she’d said and done in fear that Richard might pick up the information through a mutual friend.

  “No. I guess I didn’t say,” she told him.

  Chance frowned and reached for his coffee cup. Across the table, Sarah Jane said to him, “Lucinda is moving.”

  “Moving? Where?” Dee asked curiously.

  It was obvious she could no longer avoid their questions, and perhaps it wouldn’t make any difference anyway. If she made it to California without Richard tracking her, then she could probably lose herself in one of the state’s major cities.

  “California,” she answered. “I’ve always wanted to see the West Coast.”

  Chance eyed her over the rim of his coffee cup. “So you’re going to design clothes and try to sell them out there? Isn’t that an iffy thing to do? If you were making a living in Chicago, looks like you’d want to stay where you already have customers who know you.”