It Happened at Christmas

by Debbie Mason

  “If you’re happy with it, I suppose—”

  Skye stormed onto the wooden porch of the guest house, the screen door slamming behind her. “Claudia, I gotta go.” He disconnected. Picking up the suitcase, he walked toward his irate wife. “What’s wrong?”

  Wearing pink leggings and a long-sleeved black T-shirt, she stomped down the steps. “I’m not staying here. Put my suitcase back.” She wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed her fingers to her lips. “I think I’m going to be sick. There’s dead animals everywhere, Ethan. Dead animals,” she said, her voice rising on a hysterical note.

  He put a hand on her shoulder. “Calm down. I’ll take care of it.” His dad had been an avid hunter, and the guest house had served as his man cave. Knowing Skye as he did, Ethan should have anticipated her reaction, but… “You didn’t have a problem with them the last time you were here.”

  “It was dark, and we were in your bedroom, and I was…” Her face flushed. “I’d had too much to drink.”

  “You didn’t have that much to drink.” He didn’t seduce drunk women. “We didn’t make it to the bedroom until round three, cupcake.” He’d been so hot for her that they were lucky they made it through the front door. And remembering that night, he was hot all over again. “First time was—”

  “Don’t remind me. We did it in every room in there, and she”—Skye patted her flat stomach—“is the result. But that doesn’t change the fact that I am of sound mind and body right now, and I am not stepping foot in that place again.”

  “Getting yourself worked up isn’t good for either you or the baby. I told you I’d take care of it, and I will. Why don’t you go for a walk?”

  She glanced toward the stables and nodded. “I’ll visit Bandit. At least you people haven’t killed every animal on God’s green earth.” She started off, then whirled around, jerking her hand at the house. “Did you kill any of them?”

  He used to hunt with his dad all the time. But none of the stuffed heads on the wall belonged to him. It had disappointed him as a kid. Now he was thinking it was a good thing they didn’t. She’d probably divorce him. “No, none of them.”

  Her eyes narrowed at him, then she set off toward the stables. He took out his cell and texted Claudia that he’d be delayed.

  He was boxing up the head of a bighorn sheep when his mother walked in. She frowned. “What are you doing? Those are your father’s prized possessions.”

  Oh, yeah, this was going to go over real well. “Mom, if you want us to live here, I’ve gotta clear them out. Skye is an animal-rights activist. I’ll bring everything over to your place. We’ll set them up in the den.” He looked at the stack of heads on the hardwood floor. “And one of the spare bedrooms.”

  His mother pressed her lips together and crossed her arms. “Of course she’d be an animal-rights activist. Honestly, Ethan, whatever did you see in that girl? Next thing you know, you won’t be allowed to eat meat, let alone have it in your home.”

  He hadn’t thought about that. Hell, he hoped Skye wouldn’t expect him to become a vegetarian, too. “Don’t go there. And let’s not forget who pushed for this marriage.”

  “You’d already let the horse out of the barn, so what else could I do? You have an election to think about, and we always taught you to take responsibility for your mistakes. I’m not about to have an illegitimate grandchild. I just wish the baby’s mother was normal. I pity her father. She must’ve driven the poor man crazy.”

  “My baby is not a mistake, and if you don’t have anything nice to say about its mother, I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself. I mean it, Mom. This has to stop. You have to figure out a way to get along with Skye. Now, I’ve gotta get this done. I’m already late for my staff meeting.”

  She sighed and picked up a box. “I’ll finish up. What time do you expect Skye to arrive?”

  “She’s already here. She went to the stables… What’s wrong?” he asked at her wide-eyed expression.

  She dropped the box. “Doc’s coming to put down Bandit.”

  “Why the hell are you putting the horse down?” Ethan asked as he ran out the front door after her. Given Skye’s reaction to the heads on the wall, he figured his would be joining them once she heard the news.

  “Because he attacked Rebel and Shiloh.”

  Okay. All Ethan had to do was get to Skye before she found out or Doc got there. As they ran down the gravel path toward the barn, he heard a man and woman yelling in Spanish. He couldn’t understand what they were saying, but he recognized his wife’s voice—especially because she’d used that spitting-mad tone on him before.

  But that time she’d had a bowl of punch in her hands. This time she was wielding a pitchfork at Raul when Ethan entered the stables ahead of his mother. Skye’s hair was wild, her eyes the same, as she stood in a protective stance in front of Bandit’s stall. The horse tossed his head, kicking at the back wall.

  “Skye, get away from there before you get hurt,” Ethan ordered. He understood why she was upset. He didn’t like the idea of the horse being put down, either. But Raul and his mother wouldn’t have come to the decision lightly, and Ethan didn’t want Skye anywhere near the animal.

  “I’m not the one going to get hurt. He is if he comes near Bandit.” Her hot-tempered gaze flicked from Raul to Ethan as he approached, her eyes bright and accusing. “How could you—”

  “Loco, your wife, she is as loco as the horse,” Raul said to Ethan.

  “I’m loco? I’m not the one going to murder an animal because he’s acting like… like an animal. What is wrong with you people? You rescue a horse only to turn around and abuse it in the worst way possible.”

  “Your blood pressure, remember? Settle down. Let’s talk about…” he began as he reached for her. The horse charged to the front of the stall and bared his teeth at Ethan, forcing him to take a step back. “Skye, he’s dangerous. Come here.”

  “He’s not going to hurt me, are you boy? Show them what a good boy you are,” she spoke to the horse in a low, comforting tone—and damned if he didn’t nuzzle her neck. She set the pitchfork down, bringing her hand up to stroke Bandit.

  His mother led Shiloh out of her stall and pointed to the mare’s bandaged right foreleg. “This is why we’re putting him down, Skye. He’s attacked two horses now. We don’t know if Rebel”—she lifted her chin to the stall at the other end of the barn—“will even recover.”

  “He’s just establishing his place in the pack. This isn’t his fault. It’s yours. If you didn’t think he was ready, you shouldn’t have had him with the other horses. You don’t have to kill him. Let him go,” she said.

  Ethan saw her hand go to the latch on the gate. “Skye, don’t. You’re not letting him out.”

  “Why not?” Her delicate jaw was set in a determined line.

  Ethan took a step toward her, and Bandit stamped his hoof with an aggressive snort.

  Raul lifted his bandaged hand. “He attacked me. He is dangerous.”

  Skye rubbed her cheek against Bandit’s nose. “Right, I can see how dangerous he is.”

  “Raul, take Shiloh to the ring,” his mother said.

  The older man must have sensed the resignation on his boss’s face because he said, “Thirty-seven years working here, and you are going to listen to her over me?” Grabbing the reins from his mother’s hands, he said, “I will have nothing to do with that animal.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ll take care of him,” Skye said, and turned to hug Bandit. “We’ll show them, won’t we, boy?”

  As Raul stomped away, muttering in Spanish, Skye called after him. Ethan didn’t know what she said, but the old man threw up his hand and said, “Loco.”

  His mother sighed and went to walk away. “I’ll try and reach Doc. Save him a trip.”

  “Skye, come here. Now,” he said when she ignored him.

  She turned and arched a brow.

  “Please.” When she reluctantly did as he asked, he put his hands on he
r shoulders, ducking his head to look her in the eyes. “I understand why you’re upset. But you have to know my mother and Raul are as protective of these animals as you are.” The horse strained to reach his wife, giving Ethan the evil eye. He took a couple of steps back, bringing Skye with him.

  She glanced over her shoulder, then back at Ethan with a grin. “You’re scared of him.”

  “No, I’m not. I am not,” he said when she responded with a brow lift. “Skye, I grew up around horses. I’m not afraid of him. But I am worried about you. You and the baby. I want you to promise me that you’ll be careful.” His cell rang. He figured it was Claudia and said, “I have to get going. I’ve got a staff meeting. If you need me, I’ll be at my mom’s. No going in his stall, all right?”

  “Ethan, I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t do anything to put the baby at risk.” She crossed her arms, a defensive yet vulnerable look on her face.

  “It’s not you I’m concerned about. It’s Bandit. Just because he’s docile around you now doesn’t mean he won’t turn on you later.”

  “I’ve been around horses since I was in diapers, Ethan. I think I know what I’m doing.” She stepped away from him. “Honestly, how do you expect an animal that’s born to run free to behave when you take away its freedom and trap it in a five-by-five stall?”

  Ethan couldn’t help but think his free-spirited wife was talking more about herself than the horse. “He didn’t know any different, Skye. His previous owner mistreated him and… look, don’t judge Mom and Raul until you’ve spent some time around Bandit.”

  * * *

  Skye winced as she lifted the lasagna out of the oven. She’d have to be careful to hide the reaction from Ethan. Bandit had swung his head, sending her flying, when Raul approached his stall earlier. Who was she kidding? The older man probably ran to Ethan as soon as she’d left the stable. She’d find out soon enough, she thought, hearing footsteps on the front porch.

  “Hi,” she said when Ethan came through to the kitchen. He’d changed into well-worn jeans and a white button-down shirt for his meeting. He filled both to perfection, and her female parts were apparently very happy to see him. Holding the pan with her oven-mittened hands, she cast a surreptitious glance at her chest to see if he’d be able to tell just how happy her female parts were, angling her body away from him when she realized he most definitely would. “How was your meeting?”

  He leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his arms. “Fine. How was the rest of your day?”

  Oh, yeah, he knew. He had his lawyer face on again. Granted, it was a very hot lawyer’s face, all chiseled jaw, firm lips, and a touch of steel in his hazel eyes. “Good. I did an energy cleanse on the house, got settled in, went to the grocery store, and made your dinner.” She set the pan on the wooden cutting board, giving him a bright smile and fluttering her lashes.

  She’d have to remember to do that more often, she thought, as his expression softened and his eyes warmed. Then she realized he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at the pan of lasagna. With all his attention zeroed in on her, he mustn’t have noticed until now. She didn’t mind cooking for him so that was good. It was the least she could do since he refused her offer to split their living expenses and insisted on paying for her hospital stay. But there was a part of her that wished it was her smile that had taken him from annoyed to nice.

  “You cooked for me?”

  “Yeah, well for—” She broke off at the sound of his mother’s voice.

  “Hi,” Liz said, coming into the kitchen with a foil-wrapped dish in her hands. “Rosa made you your favorite, honey. Chicken and dumplings.” She glanced at him. “You look tired.”

  “Uh, Mom, Skye made dinner for me.”

  “Oh, I didn’t think… Well that’s fine. We can put one in the fridge for tomorrow. Which would you prefer tonight, honey, chicken or lasagna?”

  Unable to help herself, Skye said, “Yes, honey, which would you prefer?”

  With a glint of what looked to be amusement in his eyes, Ethan said, “No contest. Your lasagna, cupcake.”

  A warm, fuzzy feeling filled Skye at both his answer and the expression on his face. She frowned at her reaction. She didn’t want him making her feel warm and fuzzy, making her feel like this was real. Ground rules, that was what they needed. And as soon as his mother left…

  “That’s fine,” Liz said, walking over to put the dish in the fridge. “Do you want me to make a salad, Skye?”

  “I already made one. Thanks,” she said, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows at Ethan. He grimaced and gave her a what-can-I-say look.

  “Okay, I see it here.” Liz pulled her head out of the fridge. “Ethan, why don’t you open a bottle of wine and we can toast the baby? A cabernet would go well with the lasagna, I think.”

  It would, but it wasn’t like Skye could have a glass.

  “Here’s some apple juice for you, Skye,” his mother said, plunking the container on the counter along with the salad. She then opened a drawer and handed Ethan three place mats. “Here, dear, set the table. And while you’re at it, put on a fire.”

  Oh, yes, Ethan, do put on a fire. We’ll have a lovely romantic dinner. You, me… and your mother. As soon as the snippy thought entered her mind, Skye realized having Liz around was probably for the best. Nothing like a mother-in-law to curb those warm-and-fuzzies.

  “I thought you were a vegetarian,” Liz said when Skye placed a slice of lasagna on her plate.

  “Vegan,” Skye replied as she sat across from her mother-in-law at the table.

  “So you eat meat on occasion?”

  “No, I don’t eat meat or any animal by-products.” Well, she hadn’t until she’d come to Christmas and developed a cupcake obsession. And now, because Nurse Ratched had terrified her, Skye had bought some free-range eggs at the grocery store today. She refocused on Liz and saw the way she eyed the lasagna. “It’s polenta pesto with soy cheese.”

  His mother exchanged an I-told-you-so look with Ethan, which he pointedly ignored as he took a tentative bite.

  “Don’t worry, honey.” His mother patted his hand. “You can come home for dinner anytime. He’s just like his father,” she confided to Skye, “a meat-and-potatoes man.”

  * * *

  Three hours later, Liz left. Skye, sitting cross-legged on the couch, looked at Ethan, who sat on the other end. “Your mother needs to get a life or get la…” She trailed off, realizing that wasn’t something she should say to an uptight conservative like her husband. Really, it wasn’t the type of comment to make to any man about his mother, but dinner had gone from bad to worse with Liz marking her territory at every opportunity.

  Ethan choked on a mouthful of coffee. He put the mug on the table and turned to her. “Did you just tell me that my mother needs to get… laid?” he asked, and started to laugh when she grimaced and nodded.

  His reaction surprised her, and that worried her. She didn’t want him to have a sense of humor, and she could do without that deep, sexy laugh, too.

  “You’re right, about the life part at least. Gage and I have been trying to set up our parents for a while now. As you can tell, it hasn’t been working.”

  “Of course it hasn’t. They have nothing in common.”

  “Now wait a minute. You’re the one who said they’d be a perfect match.” At her confused look, he said, “Last Christmas at the pageant? Matching auras?”

  “I forgot all about that.” She hadn’t forgotten about seeing Ethan for the first time, though. He’d driven her and Vivi from the Denver airport to Christmas last December. She’d never felt that instant attraction, that crazy zing of chemistry, with anyone else. “I was going to suggest Richard, but you know your mother better than I do. And auras don’t lie.”

  Sitting back, he rested his arm along the back of the couch and twirled her hair around his finger. “Sorry about how tonight turned out. I didn’t plan on my mother joining us, but I couldn’t say no. She’s lonely since my dad died
.” He gently tweaked her hair. “I liked the lasagna, you know.”

  “I know.” She smiled. “You told me about ten times. I don’t think your mother did.”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that,” he said, rubbing her arm. His eyes narrowed when she wasn’t able to hide her wince of pain. “Raul said Bandit knocked you around. You seemed fine, but obviously you’re not. Let me have a look.”

  “No.” She moved her arm. “I am fine. He head-butted me. Oh no, don’t give me that I-told-you-so look. It was Raul’s fault. Bandit doesn’t like him.”

  He wrapped his strong fingers around her wrist. “Show me.”

  She sighed and did as he asked, pushing up her sleeve. Tiny sparks danced under her skin as he gently probed the outer edges of the bruise. He shifted closer, enveloping her in his familiar, masculine scent. He smelled so good, clean, with a hint of spicy, expensive cologne, that she found herself leaning into him. At the feel of his warm, hard body against hers, she squirmed on the couch. He raised his gaze to hold hers. “You okay?” he asked, but the corner of his mouth quirked, and she realized he knew exactly how she was feeling.

  “Ethan, I, uh, I think we need to lay down some ground rules.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Skye.” Ethan tapped on her half-closed door, pushing it open when she didn’t respond. Her suitcase sat in the middle of the bed, clothes spilling onto the quilt, a lacy pink bra and thong panties catching his eye. Considering the ground rules she’d laid down last night, Ethan figured that was about as close to seeing her bra and panties as he was going to get.

  He’d agreed that making the house a politics-free zone was a good idea. Her moratorium on sex? Not so much. But he didn’t have a chance to argue, because she went to bed as soon as she’d laid down the law. He’d been determined to talk to her about it today, but seeing as how she’d yet to unpack, and it didn’t look like she intended to, he decided to bide his time so he wouldn’t send her running for the door.

  He knew she was as attracted to him as he was to her. He’d seen the way her breathing had quickened when he touched her soft skin last night, the way her caramel eyes had darkened with desire. Oh, yeah, she wanted him. And he planned to remind her of that today.