Christmas Cowboy

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Christmas Cowboy Page 25

by Claire Adams


  I loved this part of her life, and I if I had it my way, she’d stay pregnant for the rest of her days.

  I watched her look out the window at me, and she seemed relieved. The wind whipping through the yard shuffled the clothes on my back, and they seemed to push me to the stairs of our porch. Even the earth was beckoning I go home to her, and when she flung the door open, she stepped out—stomach first—into the cool autumn breeze.

  “How’re my two girls?” I asked. I dipped down and kissed her sweating forehead before I leaned over and kissed her stomach. I felt a small kick against my lips, and I couldn’t help but swell with pride, but that same kick that I admired almost took Cheyenne to her knees.

  “Whoa, whoa, let’s get you sitting down,” I said.

  “She’s been wreaking havoc on my life today,” she said with a grunt.

  “Like mother, like daughter.”

  “Shut up,” she groaned.

  “You know you love it.”

  It had been three years. Three years that I’d had this beautiful woman in my life, and now she was ripping her entire body apart to have my child. There wasn’t a second that went by that I never understood how incredibly lucky I was to have the devotion and passion of a woman as strong and sensual as Cheyenne, and every day I tried to show her just how much I cherished what she gave me. I sat in front of her and put her feet in my lap, and when her shirt rolled up over her stomach and showed me the purple stretch marks cascading around her belly button, all my tongue wanted to do was trace their outlines.

  “You look beautiful,” I said.

  “I’m a beached whale.”

  “Hardly.”

  “How was work?” she asked.

  “Busy, as usual. These new hours are really bringing in some decent money, but it’ll half kill me to work them.”

  “I’m telling you, you should hire someone. Especially with this little one on the way.”

  “And I told you, I officially hired Michael. He’s on vacation to figure some things out with his farm, and when he comes back, he’ll be full time.”

  “Good. You need some help over there anyway,” she said.

  Cheyenne ended up taking some of the money and creating the summer camp program she had always dreamed of. The first summer was such a hit that she added four more weeks and expanded the advertising to the surrounding areas, and the next two summers brought in enough cash flow for her to fully expand. Our relationship had blossomed in every way imaginable, and after that second summer session of camp, she officially moved in.

  The grantors weren’t happy about her moving off-site, but things had increased so much with the restaurant that I had to quit ranching altogether. After a long talk one night with Cheyenne and Tiffany, we decided to officially close Smith Ranch and instead make our ranch simply the expansion Cheyenne had been seeking. Her horse sanctuary expanded into our domain, she was able to take on more horses—and even other animals—to rehabilitate, and her farm became a full-time, fully-functioning horse preservation farm for children who wanted to come learn, ride, and take care of horses.

  She had her main summer camps there, and she did her rehabilitation work at Smith Ranch.

  Which, in all reality, was now simply her home.

  For a while, we weren’t sure what to do with her house. It stayed unused for quite some time, but eventually, it got to the point where Cheyenne needed full-time help. Bouncing between her preservation ranch and her newly-expanded animal rehabilitation sanctuary was wearing her down, and when she put herself in the hospital because she was neglecting her health, I put my foot down. She kept saying she didn’t have the funds to hire anyone full-time to help her, and I finally convinced her to let me take a look at her books.

  When I realized she had all but fully paid her ranch off, that freed up the funds necessary to hire someone full time.

  My sister was the obvious choice, but even that didn’t suffice. When the third summer camp kicked up, it took both of them to run it, leaving Michael and I to hop between the budding restaurant and Cheyenne’s Horse Sanctuary in order to keep it afloat. We hadn’t made it through the summer before we realized she would have to hire on another full-time hand for her operations, and that’s when we started interviewing people.

  There was a man from out of town who had recently moved to the area and was looking for a job. He didn’t have much in the way of experience with ranches, but he had grown up around horses all his life until his parents passed. He explained all he knew about taking care of horses and talked about how he had single-handedly taken care of his parents’ small farm a few counties over while making sure they were alright, and I could tell the story resonated with Cheyenne.

  But she was sold when he mentioned that he’d have to sell his horses if he couldn’t find a way to provide for them.

  “Why don’t you just bring them with you?” she asked.

  “I don’t have a way to get them here,” he said.

  “We could help you pick them up. You said there are only two horses, right?”

  I wasn’t sold on the idea of having some out-of-towner come randomly work her ranch full time while bringing his own horses along, but Cheyenne was dead set in her decision. We went and picked up his two beautiful horses, and we set him up in Cheyenne’s old house until he could find himself a place. A few weeks turned into a few months, and when we found out how well he was taking care of the house, we roped it into his salary and let him stay there so long as he was working full time for us.

  Everything settled into place like it needed to, and it equally divvied all the responsibilities out without anyone being run into the ground.

  Well, until we got pregnant.

  “I can’t wait to get back out there with my horses,” Cheyenne groaned while I massaged her feet.

  “I know you miss them, and I’m sure they miss you. But you’ve still got one more week of bedrest before the doctor comes to check on you again.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “Speaking of bedrest, why weren’t you resting when I pulled up? You were bent over fussing with something when I pulled into the driveway.”

  “You spying on me, Mr. Smith?” she asked coyly.

  “Only if I get a nice look at that wonderful backside of yours.”

  “I think there’s a mouse in the house. I hear it scurrying, but I can’t find it.”

  “I’ll set out some traps before we get to bed. Sound good?” I asked.

  “Perfect,” she said. I dug into the arch of her foot, and her eyes fluttered closed. Her ankles were swelling so bad I could no longer see their protrusion, and I started to wonder if that was something to be worried about. Bedrest was common for women in their third trimester, and the doctor said it was only precautionary, but I was ready for him to come back over and check on her. The last time he’d come, her blood pressure was a bit high, and she was a little too anemic for his liking.

  “How have you been feeling today?” I asked her.

  “Do you ever think about Bill?”

  Her question ceased my movements.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I mean, he went into witness protection, right?”

  “Yeah. Sold out all his contacts to the FBI. Why are you suddenly wondering about him?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess with Rick getting out soon and everything, it’s all just coming back.”

  I set her feet down and got up off the floor. I had a feeling she might be worried about that, so I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her swollen, beautiful body into the crook of mine.

  “You know he’ll be tracked for quite some time after he gets out of jail,” I said. “You won’t have to worry about him coming around here, either. I’ve still got those cameras up.”

  “I know, I know. I just…”

  I knew she was thinking about the letters he’d written us from jail. Apparently, he’d found God and was feeling all sorts of guilt and remorse for what he’d done, but none of us k
new if it was really true. He sent letters every week for a while, but then they dissipated to once a month. One of the reasons I hired Rick was because he was down and out and had no family, and part of me was wondering if he was simply reaching out because he was lonely.

  “You think he’s just doing it to sway the parole board?” Cheyenne asked.

  “I honestly don’t know. I mean, I hope it’s true. I hope he feels terrible for what happened and what he put you through, and I hope he gets out and does something productive with his life. But I need you to know that you’re safe here. Both of you. Forever, as long as I’m here.”

  I put my hand on her stomach, and I automatically felt another kick. Cheyenne grimaced at the feeling, but I couldn’t help the smile that slid across my lips. My little girl would be a fighter, just like her mother, and there was a part of me that took pride in the idea of raising a strong, independent young woman.

  “Do you ever regret it?” I asked.

  “Regret what?”

  “You know what I’m talking about,” I said with a snicker.

  I wondered some days. I wondered—with the life we had cultivated and the roadblocks we still hit sometimes with expansion and money—if she ever regretted not taking the job that was offered to her at the silent auction all those years ago. I wondered if there were moments where she envisioned her life going differently. I wondered sometimes if maybe she wanted to leave and try to venture out on her own again.

  I twirled the sparkling diamond ring on her left hand that I had given her just before we found out we were pregnant, and I took her hand and brought it to my lips to kiss.

  “Well, it really would’ve set me up nicely,” she said. “A retirement plan and weekends off. I wouldn’t have to deal with ordering stuff or dealing with hiring helping hands. I could have gotten out of this town that reminds me sometimes of all the bullshit we endured.”

  I held her close to me and closed my eyes. Images of her barn on fire flashed through my mind. Images of the terror in her eyes when she first heard that deafening silence as the horse trapped in the barn grew still. The memory of the flames tugged at my heart and clenched my throat.

  In the history of my lifetime, I had never felt so helpless and scared as I was at that moment when Cheyenne was hurting over the loss of that horse.

  “And I also bet the helping hands at that horse sanctuary would have provided some grade-A eye candy,” she said, with a grin.

  “Hey, now. Watch that mouth of yours.”

  “No, you idiot,” she said. “I haven’t thought about it in years.”

  She turned her head up towards mine, and as our lips connected, for a brief moment the images faded away. My chest settled, my heart fluttered, and it felt like the vice on my throat was slowly being cranked open. Hearing her say she hadn’t made a mistake made me feel like I wasn’t holding her back from her aspirations. I had always encouraged her to do what she wanted and not to take me into consideration when mapping out her future, and I was scared that I’d ripped that from her the moment she’d gotten pregnant.

  “I love you so much, Colt Smith. In a couple of months, we’re gonna be parents, and then we’ll start planning a town-wide wedding everyone can attend. Your chef can show off more of his dishes and Tiffany will love decorating the town square, and our child will be there to witness us pledge our love for one another. This is all I ever could have dreamed of or wished for when it comes to my life, and I’m just lucky that I’m marrying my best friend, my lover, and my own personal grade-A eye candy.”

  “Now, that sounds more like it,” I said. I nibbled at her lips with a kiss, and her swollen body turned into mine. In an instant, my blood began to heat. No matter how much she complained about her stomach and no matter how many stretch marks tore into her body, she could still rile me up even after the hardest of days. Her tongue danced along mine while her bouncing breasts mashed against my chest, and I slid to the floor between her legs before I started shimmying her out of her pants.

  “Feels like someone could use a little treat,” I said.

  “God, yes,” Cheyenne whispered.

  I peeled her layers back until her red, juicy pussy was bared only for me, and I pressed my lips to it before I slicked my tongue into her depths. For as long as I lived, I’d never get tired of the way she would buck into my face and wrap her legs around my head. I’d never get tired of how tightly she’d grip my hair and how close she’d want me to her body, but the best part was the words that easily fell from her lips whenever I could finally throw her plump, pregnant body over the edge.

  “I love you, Colt Smith, I love you.”

  I would happily do this every day for the rest of her life just to hear those words from her lips.

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  25 DAYS

  By Claire Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams

  Chapter One

  Chloe

  "I honestly have no clue why you're bitching," Seth grumbled as he flopped down on my roommate's bed. "I'd give my left arm to spend Christmas in Aspen.”

  "That's a lie and you know it." I turned back to the mirror and ran my brush back through my long blonde hair as I ignored his jab. He had it far better than any of us, seeing that his father had not only paid for everything from the minute he stepped on campus at UCLA, but was willing to pay the school to bend the rules to get him through.

  "It's not. I love skiing and snowboarding." He sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. His messy blond hair and regal good looks were the only reason I dated him. Nothing else about us made sense. He was a meathead jock with a bend toward beer and any game on TV, while I was a designer, a swimmer, and hated team sports with a passion.

  "I'm talking about you giving up your left arm." I swirled around in my chair and smirked. "You're going to be a big football star, remember?"

  "Yep, and you'll be sorry you left me." He shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair.

  "Speaking of..." I wanted to push the topic of us breaking up, but the last time I did, the poor guy broke down in tears. It was ugly.

  "Not this again." He stood and moved toward me. "You know how I feel about us."

  "Yeah, but I'm moving on with my life, Seth. I care about you, I really do, but we're headed in separate directions. It's been a great ride, though."

  He slid his arms around my waist and snuggled his face against my neck. "It doesn't have to stop, Chloe. Just because you're going to your Dad's for a month doesn't mean shit. You'll come back, and we can just pick back up. Let's just consider it a break for now."

  "And, what if you meet someone while I'm gone?" I pushed at his chest, wanting to see his dark blue eyes once more before I ejected him from my life.

  He chuckled and touched the side of my face. "Then you're shit out of luck, toots. She's here, and you're not."

  I couldn't help but smile. His warped sense of humor was appreciated, but in all honestly, I hoped like hell he would meet someone while I was gone. Breaking his heart seemed impossible, but our time together was over.

  His additional year at UCLA was going to be good for him, and I had a battle to fight in the middle of the arctic with my old man. I shivered at the thought of the cold weather before pushing Seth's hand away.

  "Alright. Get out. I have to finish packing and catch my flight. I'll see you after Christmas for graduation."

  He leaned in and brushed
his lips against mine before jogging to the door. "No falling in love while you're gone. I'm going to be a big star one day, and I need a hot blonde beside me. That's you, baby doll." He winked, and I rolled my eyes.

  There was no way in hell I was going to be some man's arm candy. I had too many dreams for that drama.

  Yeah, our relationship was over. He could call it a break if that helped him.

  The door clicked closed, and I got busy finishing my packing for the trip. It had been a good semester for a final semester. My college career was ending six months early because of the classes I picked up the summer before. I was getting weary of studying and drawing designs only to have them downgraded and torn apart piece by piece in the name of education.

  I was grateful when the buzzing of my phone pulled me from my thoughts. School had been a bitch, and I was glad to have it done and over with.

  "Hello?"

  "You all packed up?" It was my sixteen-year-old brother, Parker.

  "I am. Are you coming to pick me up at the airport?" I pressed the phone to the side of my face and finished emptying my drawers. The only thing left was a pair of candy panties Seth had bought as a joke for my birthday—or at least I had thought it was a joke until he asked to eat them off of me. I rolled my eyes at the thought.

  "Hell, no. Dad won't let me drive in the snow." My brother let out a huff that caused me to smile. Spending the next twenty-five days with my father was going to be a bit torturous, but having Parker beside me would make it all worthwhile.

  "So, you're without a car for the whole winter season? That sucks."

  "Parents suck." He chuckled. "I'm honestly surprised you agreed to this. I know you hate the cold. What did he offer you?"

  I hadn't shared the deal my father laid on the table with anyone, namely because it seemed ridiculous. "Twenty-five days in Aspen with you guys for the seed money for my clothing line."

 

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