The Cowboy's Christmas Lullaby

by Stella Bagwell

  Tilting her head back, he could see dark turmoil swimming in her blue eyes.

  “Denver, I remember in the beginning we both said we weren’t looking for anything serious. But things started changing with me, and I thought maybe they were changing with you.”

  His hands roaming her back, he continued to hold her close, and the warmth of her body chased away the awful ache that had gnawed at him for the past few days.

  “I’ve felt them changing, Marcella. That’s why—” Taking hold of her hand, he urged her down on the couch. “Let’s sit and I’ll try to explain.”

  “About us?” she asked.

  Her hand was still clinging to his and the warm connection helped him find the courage to go on.

  “Before I get to us, I need to tell you about me. And why I’ve gone all these years making sure I—” pausing, he drew in a deep breath “—never got close to a woman. I mean, emotionally close.”

  Her fingers tightened around his as though she understood exactly how much it was costing him to talk about a life he’d tried so hard to forget.

  “Denver, you’ve already told me your wife died from a medical condition. That’s enough—”

  “No,” he interrupted with a shake of his head. “It isn’t enough. You need to hear how everything happened. Christa’s death was senseless and I was so angry about it for such a long, long time.”

  “And now?”

  His gaze dropped to their entwined hands. Her fingers were small and pale against his big brown hand, and he told himself that in spite of her fragile appearance she was strong and healthy. He wouldn’t lose her like he lost Christa. No. He might lose her a different way. But not like that.

  “I’m not angry anymore. I just want to make sure nothing like that ever happens again. That’s why when I get close to you, when I think about making love to you, I get terrified.”

  Her gaze was roaming his face searching for answers.

  “I don’t understand, Denver. But I want to. Very much.”

  For a moment he closed his eyes and tried to gather the right words. But words couldn’t paint the picture of pain and sadness he’d carried inside him for so long.

  “All right, I’ll go back to the very beginning,” he said. “To when I left my parents’ ranch in Moorcroft and took a ranching job near Laramie. That’s when I met Christa. I was twenty at the time and she was eighteen. She was waitressing in a local café and going to college part-time.”

  Her features softened. “And the two of you fell in love.”

  He nodded. “After a few months we got married and lived in a little house provided by the ranch. We both wanted children right away, but we decided it would be best for Christa to finish her associate’s degree before we took on the added responsibility of a baby.”

  “That was logical.”

  He grimaced. “Yes. We thought we had our future planned like two mature adults. We were willing to work hard and wait for things to fall into place.”

  “And then Christa developed diabetes,” she said knowingly. “That must have hit you both pretty hard.”

  “It did. But the doctors told us if she stuck to the rules and took good care of herself, she could live a fairly normal life. So we both felt positive about her condition. Except there was one hitch in those rules and it was a big one. Attempting to carry a baby could put her life at risk.”

  Marcella nodded grimly. “Yes, in some cases of diabetes, depending on the severity, pregnancy is very risky. Hearing that warning was surely a huge disappointment for the both of you.”

  Denver grimaced. “It was a regrettable situation, but I wasn’t going to let it ruin our plans for the future. As far as I was concerned, we could adopt the children we wanted. So I told Christa that one of us needed to permanently remove the chance of an unwanted pregnancy. Preferably me.”

  The corners of her mouth dipped downward. “I don’t imagine that suggestion went over very well.”

  He shook his head. “She pleaded with me not to do anything drastic. She argued that her health might eventually improve enough to have a baby, or that medical science would advance enough to cure her. In the meantime, she promised she would faithfully remain on birth control.”

  “So you gave in to her wishes,” she said perceptively.

  Denver passed a hand over his face. “I couldn’t take away her hope of someday being the mother of her own child.”

  “That would have been a heavy blow for a woman to take. Especially one as young as your wife,” Marcella said with understanding.

  “A heavy blow would have been better in the long run,” he said bitterly. “At least she would have been alive.”

  She must have guessed what he was about to say next because her lips parted with dismay.

  “You mean she went against her doctors’ advice and broke her promise to you?”

  “That’s right. By the time she finished college she was feeling great, and without anyone knowing, including me, she quit taking her pills.” He looked away and swallowed as the memories of that time surged up to choke him. “The pregnancy almost made it to the third trimester, but then things started going wrong and she and the baby both died.”

  Long moments of silence passed before she finally murmured, “How utterly awful.”

  Drawing in a long breath, he held both her hands tightly between his. “My family, my future, was wiped out completely,” he said huskily. “I left the ranch where I’d been working. I couldn’t bear living there anymore. That’s when I moved here to Carson City and got a job on the Horn. The Calhouns saved me, so to speak. They took me in like family, and now twelve years later I’m happy to be where I am.”

  Her somber gaze traveled over his face and Denver was struck by the mist of tears he saw in her eyes. “Are you? Are you happy enough to push Christa’s tragedy behind you? Or are you still in love with the young wife you lost?”

  Marcella’s last question caught him by surprise. Maybe because he’d never stripped it all down to such a simple approach to his feelings. “Why, no,” he said after a moment. “I haven’t been in love with Christa’s ghost for all these years. I’m not even sure I was in love with her when she died.”

  The harsh intake of her breath had Denver casting her a rueful glance.

  “Don’t take that in the wrong way, Marcella. I loved Christa. And I desperately wanted her to live. I wanted us to have a future together. But I’ll admit that when she deliberately deceived me about the pregnancy, it crushed something special between us and I was never able to get it back.”

  “Well, for some women the need to have a baby is so strong it dictates their reasoning. I’m sure in Christa’s mind, she was telling herself everything would be all right. That your baby would be born healthy and the three of you would be happy. In the long run she wasn’t really deceiving you by getting pregnant, Denver. She was deceiving herself. Pretending that she was just like any normal, healthy woman.”

  Bending his head, he drew his hands from hers and raked them through both sides of his hair. “A part of me knows that, Marcella,” he mumbled. “And I’ve tried to forgive her, tried to forget and move on, but—”

  Suddenly her hands were cupping his face, and when he lifted his head, the compassion he saw in her eyes was like a soothing balm, coating all the raw, rough edges of his heart.

  “Oh, Denver, what happened to Christa isn’t going to happen to me. I’m healthy. Besides, I’m a nurse. I know not to put my health at risk. You have to forgive her and move on. Otherwise, there’s no room inside you for me or any woman.”

  As he studied her sweet face, sudden resolve washed over him, and for the first time since Christa had died, he saw a different future for himself. It wasn’t black or filled with loneliness. “Any woman? Oh, Marcella, I don’t want just any woman. I want you. I’ve wanted you
from the moment you walked into my dirty kitchen.”

  Smiling seductively, she moved closer and slipped her arm across his chest. As she leaned into him and whispered against his cheek, Denver realized his resistance had disappeared like a dust cloud on the desert.

  “And I want you, Denver. More than you can imagine. We can make this work. Just give me the chance to show you.”

  Groaning with need, he pressed his lips to the corner of hers and wondered if she could actually show him how to love again.

  “I’m all yours, darlin’,” he murmured, then closed his lips over hers.

  * * *

  As Denver’s kiss deepened to a hungry search, Marcella’s senses began to float around the room and dance like starlight on a rippling lake. Everything was different now. She could feel it in the way his hands were touching her. The way his lips were kissing her with hot abandon. And she couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t begin to satiate the need he was creating deep within her body, her very soul.

  When he finally lifted his head enough for them to breathe, she whispered, “The bedroom.”

  His hands gently cradled her face. “Are you certain?”

  Marcella didn’t have to think about his question. From his very first kiss, her body had been screaming the answer. She wanted to be connected to this man in every intimate way.

  “Completely certain,” she said, placing her lips next to his. “And don’t worry—I’m protected with the pill. And Nurse Marcella never forgets to take her medicine.”

  “I’m not worried about that. Not now.”

  “No?”

  He answered her question by rising to his feet and lifting her into the cradle of his arms. As he carried her out of the room, she anchored her arms around his neck and tried not to wonder if he was carrying her to paradise or a broken heart.

  You just told Denver you were certain about this. It’s too late to start having second thoughts now, Marcella. It’s time for you to be woman enough to make him forget about everything except wanting you.

  By the time they entered the small bedroom and he set her on her feet at the side of the double bed, she’d pushed the words of warning from her mind. These past few days she’d decided there was little to no hope of them having a future together. Now here she was about to make love to him, and the idea was causing every cell in her body to throb with excitement.

  Standing in the circle of his arms, with his lips continuing to feast on hers, she went to work releasing the snaps on the front of his shirt. At the same time, his hands delved beneath the hem of her baggy sweater and walked their way upward until they reached her breasts.

  The fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra must have shocked him, because for one split second she felt his hands hesitate before his fingers finally curled around her naked breasts. The contact of his rough skin against hers was both sweet and erotic, prompting her eyes to close and her body to arch into his.

  Even through the heavy denim of his jeans, Marcella could feel his erection, and it sent a thrill of feminine triumph soaring through her. After years of not having a man in her life, she’d almost forgotten how exhilarating it felt to have someone want her this much. For her to want this much. Or had she ever really felt like this?

  When his mouth finally tore away from hers, she knew the answer to that. She’d never had her senses spin so out of control that she had to keep telling herself to breathe. The taste of his lips, the scent of his skin, had whirled her into orbit and she didn’t care if she ever returned to earth.

  She was hardly aware of him tugging off her sweater or tossing it to the floor. But when his head dipped and his lips began to nuzzle both her breasts, she drew in a sharp breath and latched her hands tightly over the tops of his shoulders.

  It wasn’t until he’d taken one hard budded nipple between his teeth and laved it with his tongue that the pent-up air rushed from her lungs. And by then it didn’t matter that her mind had ceased to think rationally. All she wanted was to have his hands moving over her body. To have him inside her, driving hard and fast.

  When her fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, he swiftly pushed her hands aside and lifted his head. “Let me,” he whispered. “It’ll be faster.”

  Leaving him to handle the task, she focused on removing the remainder of her own clothing while he stripped down to nothing but a pair of white boxers. The lone garment was a vivid contrast against his dark skin, and though she didn’t want to stare, she couldn’t tear her gaze off his hard-muscled chest and arms, lean waist and long, sinewy legs.

  When he finally turned to see her standing next to him wearing only a pair of black lace panties, he paused and let his gaze travel up and down the length of her.

  “Wow, I was expecting you to look good, but not this good,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “Perfect.”

  Considering the fact that she’d been celibate for so long, she’d expected to feel awkward about standing naked in front of this man. But oddly enough she felt no sort of embarrassment or need to hide from Denver’s smoldering gaze. Her body was hardly perfect, but the sizzling glint in his eyes said she looked good to him. And that was enough. Just to please him and know that he wanted her and only her.

  “I never realized you’re half-blind. Lucky me,” she said, a provocative smile tilting her lips. “You can’t see what you’re really getting.”

  Grinning, he reached for her, and as his lips made a hot foray over hers, Marcella was certain she was going to wilt with pleasure. Thankfully, just before her knees gave way, he lowered both of them onto the bed.

  Once they were lying face-to-face in the middle of the mattress, he smoothed a hand down her bare arm and whispered, “My vision hasn’t been this clear in years.”

  Marcella touched her fingertips to his cheek. Immediately he caught her hand and turned the palm up to his lips. The gesture caused her heart to swell and tears to sting her eyes.

  “Denver, if you’re concerned about...me getting pregnant, I won’t mind if you want to use your own birth control. If that would make you feel better.”

  His brown gaze searched hers. “No. I don’t want things to start out that way with us. I need to learn to trust again.”

  His admission brought a rush of moisture to her eyes. “I do, too,” she murmured. “So we’ll learn together.”

  “Together. I like the sound of that.”

  His hand began to roam the curve of her hip and down the slope of her thigh. The warm touch of his calloused palm sent shivers of anticipation over her skin. Her lips tilted upward at the corners.

  “How long has it been since you made love to a woman in the middle of the morning?” she asked.

  A chuckle rumbled from his throat. “Is that a trick question?”

  Her soft laugh joined his as she snuggled her head beneath his chin. “I’m only teasing. Not trying to pry a confession from you.”

  “So you’re a teaser, are you?” Pulling his head back slightly, he picked up a handful of her vibrant hair. “Where did that come from? All this red hair?”

  Smiling slyly, she allowed her fingers to dance across his chest. “Mmm, could be. I have a few red hot chili peppers in me, too.”

  His hand slipped to the small of her back and pressed her even closer. “I’d better be careful,” he whispered, his lips moving against her cheek. “I might get scorched.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m a nurse. I can take care of your burns.”

  That brought another chuckle from him, and then his mouth was crushing down on hers, shooting her senses off in a thousand different directions.

  The kiss went on and on until Marcella hardly knew if she was in her own bed or floating on a cloud with the hot sun sizzling over her skin, melting her into helpless puddles of flesh.

  Desire that she’d never known existed inside her was
rapidly spiraling out of control. It pushed her hands into a frantic search of his body and caused her hips to arch against his hard manhood.

  The needy groan in her throat was close to being a whimper, and the sound caused him to lift his mouth from hers. His drowsy eyes were full of concern as they looked into hers.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “Only because I want you so much. Make love to me, Denver,” she pleaded. “Make the ache go away.”

  “Oh, Marcella. My sweet. Let me show you how much I want you. So much. Too much.”

  Rolling her onto her back, he quickly peeled off her panties and tossed them to the floor. Marcella watched, her body tingling with need as he slipped the boxers off his hips and allowed them to slide to the floor.

  The sight of his hard arousal caused the ache between her legs to deepen, her breaths to quicken. When he finally positioned himself over her, she expected him to immediately connect their bodies. Instead, he delayed her torment by lowering his head until his tongue was tracing a wet circle around one nipple and then the other.

  Marcella was on fire, every inch of her burning until she felt like a flame rising higher and higher. And then suddenly he was entering her, slowly, sweetly, until there was no space between them. Only hot flesh.

  Somewhere through a fog of desire, she heard his guttural groan, and then he began to move, sending delicious waves of pleasure undulating from her head to her toes.

  When she finally managed to catch her breath, she began to match the rhythm of his strokes. Their bodies melded perfectly and before long Marcella was totally lost in him and the moment. The only important thing was to try to give him all the incredible sensations he was giving her.

  Forever. That was how long it would take for her to get enough of this man. She wanted to hold him to her like this until love had bound them together so tightly nothing could tear them apart.

  As she clung to him, the thought continued to swirl in her subconscious. But that sweet forever place in her mind was suddenly interrupted as the pace of his body quickened and she recognized he was racing toward that same spot she was seeking.