by June Faver
When he first sighted his own house, Big Jim was filled with a sense of fury. That damned Derrick Shelton is still there inside my darkened house.
He was filled with thoughts of all he was going to do to that young rascal. How could he take advantage of my Angelique?
Big Jim slammed to a stop and climbed out, in a near-murderous rage. He charged up to the house, finding the front door locked. Danged asshole is shacked up with my daughter, and I’m gonna break his fool neck.
He unlocked the door and crept inside in stealth mode, imagining the worst. But when he stepped into the den, he found Derrick alone and asleep. Thank heavens the young man was fully clothed and didn’t appear to have removed anything other than his leather jacket and Stetson.
Big Jim heaved a deep sigh, allowing all his anger to slide away. He approached the sleeping man and touched his shoulder.
Derrick stirred and opened his eyes. “Hey, Big Jim,” he said in a sleepy voice.
“Hey, yourself.” Big Jim gestured to the back of the house. “You wanna stay over? It’s pretty late.”
“No thanks, sir. I better be getting home.” He stretched his long arms and legs. “I didn’t want to leave Angelique and Gabi all alone out here. I know it’s unlikely that someone would come way out here to break in, but somehow I didn’t want to leave them.” He rose and gathered his jacket and hat.
Big Jim gave him a couple of pats on the back as he walked the young man to the front door. “You did the right thing, son. Thanks for takin’ care of my girls.”
* * *
Angelique lay in bed, relaxed and comfortable for the first time in so long she couldn’t recall when she’d felt so good.
It was hope that was flexing its muscle deep inside her. She hadn’t dared to feel hopeful in a long time…maybe never. Maybe there had always been that skinny tightrope underfoot, and maybe her life had always been teetering on the edge.
She stretched her arms and legs, flexing her wrists and ankles. The sheets felt cool in the places where her body had not warmed them. It was still dark outside. She craned her neck to see the small clock on the nightstand. It was just after four in the morning, but considering that she had fallen in bed relatively early, she wasn’t ready to roll over and go back to sleep. She crept out of bed, placing her bare feet on the soft carpet, and made her way over to the small twin-size bed. Gabrielle was on her back, her little mouth agape. She looked very angelic in the soft moonglow.
Angelique pulled the blanket up around her child, although the leggings and knit top she’d worn the night before were probably keeping her plenty warm.
The window looked out on the land to the north side of the Garrett house. Angelique leaned against the windowsill and gazed out at the scene. It didn’t look real. It was as though someone had created it using a roll of quilt batting over everything. The snow was deep and fresh. It glistened as though it was paved with diamond dust.
She looked at the moon, sitting in the blackest of skies. Only a few of the brightest stars were visible, causing her to wonder where the rest of the little twinklers were hiding.
The house was quiet, but not eerie. It was snug, like a fortress, impenetrable by the enemies who sought her. Those who did not wish her well.
Angelique stifled a shudder. Although she was feeling safe at the moment, she must not let her guard down. She couldn’t pretend that Alfonse Benoit would ever give up. He would eventually find her, so great was his evil reach. The best she could hope for was to embed her daughter safely within the Garrett family. Perhaps if Benoit could punish Angelique, he might overlook Gabrielle.
And then there was Derrick. Such a sweet man.
Angelique heaved a huge sigh. Too bad nothing could come of it. The first sweet man she had fallen in love with—the man who had fathered Gabrielle—had lost his life, and it was her fault. At least according to his father.
Still, Derrick was a charming and honorable man. He had no problem giving her a kiss good night and letting her take her child to bed. No demands. No pressure. He truly did seem to have all the qualities one could attribute to a Southern gentleman.
Like Big Jim.
Her father was a Southern gentleman, and she was certain he would have married her mother if he had known she was pregnant with his child. She wondered how her life would have been different if she had grown up here on the Garrett ranch, with Big Jim and her mother as parents. How would it have been to have a protective father?
She heaved another big sigh. Too late for what-ifs. She had survived her childhood and adolescence without a father. And with no brothers. But now the kaleidoscope had twisted into a new pattern. She had a father and brothers, some of whom acted as though they liked her. She had at least one sister-in-law who liked her. One did not, and the third was unknown. But most important, Gabrielle had a grandfather who adored her. Angelique’s daughter would be safe here in the Garrett compound. If worse came to worst, Angelique could go away. She could lead her pursuers away from the child she would give her life for.
* * *
For Derrick, mornings started early. His first task was to open a can of cat food for the twenty-pound cat he had inherited when his parents had moved. Meow, so named because she was quite talkative and seemed to be saying “now” when she demanded attention.
It was his custom to grab a cup of coffee on his way to the barn. His herd of cattle were more pets than profit. He let them graze and supplemented their feed with a grain mix recommended by Jenna Kincaid, the local veterinarian. But it was winter now and the pastures were covered with a blanket of snow, so Derrick rolled out bales of hay to feed his bovine friends.
This morning, though it was still dark, the herd had gathered close to the fence where a feeding trough had been placed. Streams of white vapor arose from their nostrils as they snorted in the chill morning air.
Freddie, the longhorn bull and patriarch of this bovine family, pushed forward, offering his nose in greeting. There were younger bulls, Freddie’s offspring, but the old man kept his place as boss of the herd.
Derrick rubbed Freddie’s nose and scrabbled his way up to the wide space between the bull’s eyes, a favorite spot for scratching. “Hey, old fellow. You been keeping the ladies satisfied?”
The large brown eyes blinked, perhaps confirming that he was doing his duty to the cows.
“Atta boy.” Derrick scooped grain into the feed trough and watched as his four-hooved darlings gathered around the dinner table.
Satisfied, he took a step back to watch the first lightening of the sky to the east. It was always a thrill, no matter how many times he experienced it. Morning came to call at his ranch every day, and every day it was welcomed with proper awe and reverence.
As a man who had been raised to respect nature and love the land, he tried to take nothing for granted. With all the talk of global warming, he always did his part to conserve natural resources.
His next stop was the stables. He only had three horses. A mare, a stallion, and a foal, the product of their coupling. He knew his neighbor, Big Jim Garrett, spent a lot of time and energy making sure each and every colt was the perfect pairing of his equine genetics. But for Derrick, it was a much smaller microcosm of flora and fauna. He was proud to be able to farm enough to provide silage for his own animals. He planted oats and grain sorghum, and in the fall rye grass. Just seeing the small herd of Texas longhorn cattle living on and enjoying his land gave him great satisfaction.
It took him no time at all to feed the horses and muck out their stalls. They needed exercise, but the sheriff had to drive into town. It was with regret that he turned the horses out into the corral. “After work, I promise.”
Derrick pulled off his work boots by the back door and set them just inside to dry. Then he headed for the shower to make himself presentable to meet his constituents or whoever might need him this fine winter day.
&n
bsp; * * *
Colton Garrett was trying to keep from letting his feelings about his supposed half-sister ruin his Christmas spirit. He’d gotten up early and cooked bacon while the coffee brewed.
Misty was getting ready for work, having an immense loyalty to Breckenridge T. Ryan, her lawyer boss. He seemed to be comfortable with her running the office and keeping his clients and their information intact, leaving him free to defend his clients at the county courthouse, arrange bail for some and create wills for others. All this while spending time as a gentleman rancher, also a time-consuming business.
“I’m late.” Misty came bounding around the corner and into the kitchen of their ranch house, which occupied a lovely site on the Garrett ranch compound.
“Hang on,” Colt said. “The weather is crappy. I really doubt there is a line of people waiting to get into the law office.”
Tilting her head to one side, she pursed her lips. “Maybe, but I still need to get there and open up.”
Colt handed her a cup of coffee with just the right amount of hazelnut creamer in it…her favorite. “You can take a moment to enjoy this nice breakfast I’m making for you. Now sit down and relax.”
Closing her eyes, she inhaled the fragrant aroma of the coffee. “Ooh, I don’t have time.”
Colt frowned at her. “You are not encouraging me to get up and make breakfast.”
Misty smiled and leaned in for a kiss. She stroked his cheek with one hand. “Okay, but sit with me. I’ll have some bacon.”
Colt shook his head in defeat, but placed the plate of bacon on the table and took a seat beside her. “Seriously, honey. Give the sand trucks a chance to get out on the road.”
“You put those amazing snow tires on my truck,” she said. “I’m perfectly safe, especially if you let me get on the road soon.” Misty picked up a slice of crispy bacon and munched it emphatically.
“Don’t you want me to drive you? I can pick you up later.”
Misty gazed at him silently.
Colt could feel her unspoken hostility. “Is there a problem?”
She drew in a deep breath and set her coffee mug down on the table. “I feel distinctly insulted when you reveal how little confidence you have in me.”
“Aw, baby. You shouldn’t feel that way. I have all the confidence in you. You know that.”
Her lips tightened. “Well, you don’t seem to think that poor little me could drive herself to work on a perfectly clear winter day.”
“No, that’s not…” He started to get to his feet, but she was faster.
She shoved her chair back and grabbed another slice of bacon. “I’ll see you later.”
And Colt was left to watch his wife storm off in a snit. Not what he had planned. He had intended to serve her a sumptuous breakfast for which he had thought she would be appreciative.
He just caught up with her before she pulled out. “Wait, Misty. I’m sorry.” He opened the driver’s side door and gazed at his totally irritated wife.
She heaved a sigh and turned off the ignition. “You’re really sorry?”
“I—I’m sorry if you thought I was putting you down. I love you, y’know?”
Her expression softened. “I know.”
He reached to stroke her cheek. Then leaned in for a kiss. “Sorry if I hurt your feelings. I wanted to protect you. I’m an ass.”
She flashed her dimpled grin. “Yeah, sometimes…but you’re my ass.”
When she drove away, Colt stood in the snow, fists on his hips, considering how to take his wife’s words.
Chapter 8
“Dad, you don’t have to always cook for me.” Angelique flashed a grin at Big Jim as he placed a plate with way too much food in front of her. “I can cook, y’know? In fact, I’m a damned good cook.” She scooted Gabrielle up to the table, ensconced on the booster seat like a princess on her throne.
“I’m sure you are.” Big Jim sat down at the table beside her, bearing his own plate piled high with bacon and sausages, eggs, a potato casserole, and toast. “But humor an old man. I’m making up for all those years I didn’t get to cook for you.”
A tightness in her throat kept her from responding. She pressed her lips together, biting her inner cheek to keep from tearing up. She didn’t know why she had suddenly become so sensitive about the subject of her one-parent childhood. It had been tough growing up without a father. She had been bullied in school, but Remy had always stood up for her.
Remy had been her hero, in grade school and all the way through their troubled relationship. Not troubled by Remy, but by his parents, Alphonse and Cecile Benoit.
They lived in a beautiful mansion in the Quarter. Angelique had thought it was a palace, especially when compared to the cramped apartment she shared with her mother.
Angelique had always felt the Benoits’ contempt. It was understandable. After all, her mother was among the working class…the poorer working class.
“So, how is it?” Big Jim broke into her reverie, leaning a bit toward her.
She looked at him in confusion. “What?”
“The eggs? The potatoes? Did I get them right?” He gestured to the small plate he had set in front of Gabrielle. “Gabi seems to like ’em okay.”
His granddaughter was using a spoon and her fingers to feed herself the delicious morsels.
“Oh, um—yes. It’s fabulous.” She scooped some of the potato mixture into her mouth. She tasted the concoction and realized it truly was fabulous. “It’s delicious.”
Big Jim chuckled. “Glad you think so.”
“What’s in this scrumptious stuff?”
“Lots of good things. My boys loved it growing up.”
Angelique kept eating but wondered how it might have been, growing up here on this sprawling ranch with a father who loved her…and cooked for her.
* * *
After breakfast, Big Jim told Angelique to get herself and Gabrielle bundled up. When they were properly attired, he wrapped Gabrielle in a wool throw and carried her outside.
Intrigued, Angelique followed, her feet sinking into the crispy white snow. She tried to step in the tracks made by Big Jim, but his stride was too long for her shorter legs.
“Here we go, ladies.” He opened a door in the side of a wooden building, holding it wide for Angelique to enter.
She stepped up into the interior, noticing immediately a strong odor. “Phew! What is that horrible smell?”
He grinned, closing the door behind himself. “That’s perfume to a cowboy, Angelique. This is the stable, and what you smell are my beautiful black Arabian horses. I haven’t cleaned out their stalls today, or let them out into the corral. They need the exercise.”
Angelique sucked in a breath, making a face. “You do this every morning?”
“Sure do. I love these horses. Arabians are a special breed.”
“You ride them every day?” She was fascinated as she heard the sound of hooves stamping and horses snorting and making a sound.
“Of course I do. These are my beautiful little babies.”
Angelique let out a laugh. “Are you kidding? The horses are huge. I would be terrified to get up on one.”
Big Jim gave her a look she thought was amused, but maybe a little sad too.
She swallowed hard. “I-I guess if I had been raised here I would be riding horses from the time I could walk.”
Big Jim nodded. “I was thinkin’ that very thing.” He gave her a one-armed hug. “But I think you turned out pretty good without me.”
A rush of tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. If only she could tell him how totally screwed up her life had turned out. “Thanks.” She wiped at her tears, but smiled. She felt safe wrapped in this big man’s arm.
Gabrielle reached over to pat Angelique’s hair. “Don’t cwy, Mommy.”
This
struck her as funny, and she began laughing and couldn’t stop. It was hard to breathe, and soon she was giggling and gasping for air. “Oh, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She kissed Gabrielle’s hand and held it.
Big Jim gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Not a damn thing.”
It felt as though something that had been holding her back, some restraint, had broken away. She nestled her head on Big Jim’s shoulder. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Come on over here with me and let me show you these little darlings.” He urged her to go toward the horse stalls. “This here’s my Ebony. She’s got a great bloodline.”
The horse gazed at Angelique, large dark eyes alert and interested.
“She wants a treat.”
Gabrielle reached out a hand to the mare, and Big Jim leaned down so she could touch the horse’s nose. Gabrielle squealed in delight.
Big Jim stroked the horse’s nose, and Gabrielle leaned back to do the same. “Horse. This is a horsey.”
“Horsey!” she shouted.
Angelique watched, fighting down a sense of fear, telling herself that her daughter would be all right in the arms of her loving grandfather.
“Yessiree, little lady. Your grampa will make sure you learn to handle yourself on a horsey.” He smiled at Angelique. “And you, my dear daughter… You will learn to ride too. I’ll pick out a really gentle mare for you.”
“Oh my! No, I’m not really the cowgirl type.” She held up her hands as though surrendering.
Big Jim huffed out a single laugh. “Sure you are. You just don’t know it yet.”
She shook her head, but chuckled. “That’s for sure. I have no idea how to be a cowgirl.”
“Not to worry. That’s what your old daddy is for. I’ll be happy to teach you how to ride.”
“What if—what if I’m afraid of horses?”
