by Kim Redford
“And I talked with Granny. The Chuckwagon is donating a big barbeque feed to ease the pain of us getting caught on camera with our pants down.”
“You cowboys better keep your pants on!” Sydney put her hands on her hips as she frowned at her brother. “There’ll be no mooning the camera at my photo shoot.”
Dune and Slade both broke into laughter at her reaction.
Slade raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. We’ll be good—or we’ll try to be.”
“You better be, or I’ll sic Hedy on you.”
“Oh no, please not that,” Slade said in mock horror, even as he continued to chuckle.
“Okay,” Sydney agreed. “But you’ve been warned.” She gave each guy a quelling look, then started for the house.
By the time they all tromped up to the floor of the porch, Storm stood in the open doorway, hopping from foot to foot in obvious impatience.
“Mommy!” Storm flung her small body—dressed in a bright red onesie with a green elf embroidered on the front—into Sydney’s arms.
Dune watched the incredibly strong connection between mother and daughter, and he felt warmth blossom and expand in his chest. Love. He’d been pondering one type of love between a man and a woman, but here was another kind just as powerful or maybe more powerful between a parent and a child. He understood, because he felt as protective and concerned about Storm as he did about Sydney.
He glanced over at Slade, who was watching him, understanding of the situation dawning in his hazel eyes.
Slade quickly glanced away, as if he’d glimpsed an emotion too intimate, too vulnerable to be shared with another person, particularly a cowboy. “Hey, folks, let’s get this train chugging into the station. Cider and gingerbread await us cowpokes.”
Storm giggled, then pushed away from Sydney to look up at Slade, putting her small hands on her narrow hips. “I get to be the caboose!”
“Okay. I’ll be the engine.” Slade pointed at Sydney and Dune. “They’re dining and sleeping cars.”
Sydney grinned at Dune, holding out her hand. “I take dining, so that makes you sleeping.”
“Suits me.” He clasped her fingers, enjoying the fantasy of one big, happy family. He’d never have thought it before, but now he realized just how easily he could want this type of fun on a permanent basis.
Slade stepped close to the door and held out his hand. Sydney grasped it, still holding Dune’s hand. He looked behind and saw Storm already in place as the caboose. She gave him a shy smile and held up her hand with total trust. He felt warmth expand in his chest again. He silently vowed never to do anything that would break this little girl’s trust in him. He gently grasped her small, soft hand, and she gave him a wide, happy grin.
“Choo! Choo!” Slade called out in front. “All aboard the Steele Express, bound for the best Christmas treats in the whole wide world.”
“Choo! Choo!” Storm responded in a high, sweet voice.
“All aboard!” Sydney chimed in with the others.
“Choo! Choo!” Dune added, not feeling like as big a fool to say it as he’d thought he would now that he was drawn into their family fantasy.
He stayed right up with the others as they choo-chooed their way across the living room floor of glossy oak to the sound of Gene Autry singing “Here Comes Santa Claus” softly in the background.
Dune got a quick impression of decorations that included flowery chintz, camel-back sofa with aqua wingback chairs in front of a redbrick fireplace where five decorative stockings hung on the mantel. For a moment, he wished there was a sixth stocking for him, but he wasn’t part of this family, so that wasn’t even in the realm of possibility.
He happily followed the enticing scent of fresh-baked goodies into the updated country kitchen with white appliances, glass-fronted upper cabinets, and wallpaper filled with sunflowers.
Slade stopped their train beside a battle-scarred golden oak table with eight spindle-back chairs nestled around it. A red silk poinsettia floral arrangement with three red candles took up the center. On one end, someone had placed poinsettia paper plates, napkins, and plasticware, along with a large crystal plate holding big chunks of dark-brown gingerbread stacked high in the shape of a pyramid.
“Steele Station,” Slade boomed out. “Exit now or forever hold your peace.”
“That’s not how it goes, Uncle Slade,” Storm complained, sticking out her tongue at him.
“I’m the conductor, so I say how it goes.” Slade glanced back with a big grin at the caboose. “If you want goodies, you better exit now.”
Storm dropped Dune’s hand and rushed over to the table. “I’m starved for something yummy.”
“Guess you don’t include broccoli in your assessment of yummy?” Slade asked with a laugh.
“Broccoli isn’t even food.” Storm reached for a piece of gingerbread.
“Mind your manners.” Sydney gave Dune’s hand a squeeze before she stepped toward her daughter. “Tonight we’re going to sit down at the table and eat like ladies and gentlemen.”
Storm screwed up her face, frowning. “Do we have to?”
Slade chuckled as he walked over to the cooktop where fragrant steam rose from a big stainless steel pot. “I wouldn’t argue with the dining car, she might close the kitchen.”
“Right.” Storm quickly sat down and smiled sweetly up at her mother. “Please, may I eat?”
Slade laughed harder as he picked up a ladle and started filling big red mugs with apple cider. “Acorn didn’t fall far from the tree, did it?”
Sydney joined his laughter as she rolled her eyes at Dune. “Would you care to sit, Mr. Barrett?”
“Thank you,” Dune said, joining the game. “I’d be delighted to share a light repast with all of you.”
“Repast?” Storm squinted at Dune, as if trying to bring him into focus. “How about sharing some food?”
“That’s what he said,” Sydney explained with a chuckle. “Repast means food.”
“Oh.” Storm glanced mischievously around at them. “One word for one thing is good enough for me. I don’t know why grown-ups have to make life harder with broccoli and too many words.”
Dune couldn’t keep from chuckling along with Sydney and Slade. “I’ve got to admit, Storm, you make a really good point.”
“I do?” She looked taken back by surprise—as well as pleased as punch.
“Yep.” He glanced at Sydney, who was staring at him. “Sometimes we make life way more complicated than it needs to be.”
She nodded, as if understanding that he was talking about them.
“Out of the mouths of babes.” Slade set four mugs of cider on a red tray embellished with a big Santa Claus face. He carried the tray over to the table and set it down beside the gingerbread plate.
“Thanks,” Sydney said. “Everything looks wonderful.”
Slade sat down beside Storm and gave her a wink. “Do you think your tummy can handle more after that pecan pie?”
“Bring it on,” Storm said, chuckling. “My tummy can handle anything you can make in a kitchen.”
“Big words from a little girl.” Slade set a mug in front of her and then set two mugs on the table in front of the chairs opposite him.
Dune pulled out those two chairs, then stepped back so Sydney could sit down first, letting her know that he could play the cowboy gentleman in her home just fine and dandy.
“Before long, she’ll be a big girl.” Sydney sounded wistful as she gave Dune a thank you smile for pulling out her chair. She quickly sat down, picked up her mug, and cradled it between two hands.
“Yay!” Storm grinned from ear to ear. “Big girl means I get to eat twice as much.”
“She’s got a good point,” Dune agreed as he sat down, enjoying the sassy little girl who was fast finding a way into his heart.
Slade set pieces of gingerbread on four plates, then passed them around with forks and napkins. “Eat up, folks. There’s always more in the Steele kitchens.”
Dune took a bite and then nodded his head in appreciation. “Slade, you sure know how to cook.”
“I helped make it,” Storm said, stuffing a big piece into her mouth.
“She was a great help.” Slade gave Sydney and Dune a considering look, and then he nodded at them as if reaching a decision. “Storm, your mom’s going to be busy tomorrow working on the benefit calendar. I’m thinking we might saddle up a couple of horses and ride the range. How about it?”
Storm dropped her fork and stood up fast, screeching her chair across the floor as she backed away from the table. “Not me! I told you, no more horses or four-wheelers.”
Slade raised his eyebrows in surprise, quickly setting down his fork while he looked questioningly at Sydney as to how to go forward with Storm.
Dune glanced from one to the other, realizing they didn’t know how to reach Storm at this point. An idea popped into his mind. He hoped he wouldn’t be stepping out of line if he suggested it, but he couldn’t stand to see a little girl frozen in fear. “Storm, how are you at roping and tying?”
She twisted her hands together in an agitated motion. “Not so good yet.”
“I’ve done some roping and tying in my day.”
“You have?” She edged toward him, rubbing her palms against her onesie as if to still her worry. “Are you any good?”
“I won a few buckles and some other stuff.” He glanced at Sydney, and she gave him a subtle nod to go ahead with his line of thought.
“Me too.” Storm suddenly smiled at him, but then frowned as worry returned to her hazel eyes. “But not now. It’s no good without my pony.”
“No need for a horse,” Dune said with conviction. “If we had a goat-tying dummy and goat rope, I could show you a few tricks. Maybe we could practice together.”
Storm brightened, giving him a bigger smile. “I got a goat-tying dummy last Christmas. And I got pink goat rope, too!”
“She hasn’t used it much yet,” Sydney explained with a nod toward her daughter. “She’s just now getting big enough for the dummy.”
“I’m plenty big now.” Storm puffed out her small chest.
“Dune and I can surely make time to practice goat tying,” Sydney said.
“Yay!” Storm ran around the table, gave Dune a big hug, then plopped back down in her chair.
“Thanks.” Sydney squeezed Dune’s hand under the table. “You came up with just the right thing at the right time.”
“You said it,” Slade agreed. “We all need to pull together for family at Christmas.”
“I’m glad to help spread a little cheer.” Dune finished off his gingerbread, then took a sip of cider.
Slade looked from one to the other, cocked his head as if in thought, and abruptly stood up. “Tell you what. I bet you two need to make more plans for the calendar and Sure-Shot tonight. Why don’t I take Storm home with me? I’ll take her down to the café early tomorrow, and that will leave us free for the photo shoot.”
“That’s thoughtful,” Sydney said, “but Storm might want to stay here with me.”
“Storm,” Slade said, “do you want to go home with me and cook popcorn in the fireplace?”
“Yay! I’m getting my stuff right now.” Storm jumped up and ran out of the room.
“Not fair,” Sydney said. “You know that’s one of her favorite winter things to do.”
Slade simply grinned at her. “You two finish the snacks while I walk Storm over to my house.” He headed toward the living room, then stopped in the open doorway and looked back.
“Brother dear, you get your way too much.” Sydney threw her balled-up napkin at him in mock annoyance, but it landed short.
“That’s not what that last bull I rode had to say.” Slade chuckled, even as he appeared pained at the memory.
“I hear you,” Dune agreed, knowing what all cowboys knew—at a rodeo or on a ranch, the luck was with you or it wasn’t.
Storm raced into the living room wearing red satin slippers and carrying a backpack. “Bye, Mommy! And Mr. Barrett!” She gave a quick wave, opened the front door, and rushed into the night.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Slade gave Sydney and Dune a mischievous grin, stepped outside, and shut the door firmly behind him.
Sydney leaned her elbows on the table and put her face in her hands. “I’m trying not to be embarrassed by my family.”
“No need. They’re terrific.”
“Do you really think so?” She raised her head and looked at him with worry in her big hazel eyes.
“Yes. They’re great—just like you.”
“Thanks.” She smiled at him, revealing relief and pleasure at his complimentary words.
“I’m the one who owes you thanks for inviting me into your beautiful home.” He glanced around the cozy kitchen. Nothing had felt more right to him in a long, long time.
Chapter 17
Sydney tightened her grip on the red mug of cider as the last strains of Willie—and his sister Bobbie—Nelson’s “Joy to the World” faded away, leaving the farmhouse silent except for the crackling flames in the living room fireplace. She was so used to Storm’s laughter and chatter, as well as Slade’s comings and goings, that the house seemed much too quiet. And yet it also felt right with Dune by her side.
Slade had practically thrown Dune into her lap as an early Christmas gift, revealing just how concerned her family must be about her living as a single parent, seeing no one special, and taking no interest in forming her own family again. What would Dune think about being practically thrown at her? She hoped he wasn’t trying to figure out how to get out the front door as fast as possible without leaving hard feelings behind him.
And yet she didn’t think that was the case. They’d spent long hours together, flirting and working and kissing, jump-starting their relationship. She hadn’t planned on it, but Dune simply brought her alive. She finally felt as if she could move on with her life. Maybe it was his gentle caring, his strong support, and his sensitivity to Storm’s fear. Maybe it was that she’d been too long without a man. Maybe it was that she’d shouldered so much responsibility for too long alone. She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to try to figure it out.
If Dune could get past Slade’s clumsy matchmaking and if he wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him, then maybe he’d stay—at least for a little bit—and she could bask in the warmth of his presence. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, because she was setting off down an unknown path.
“Do you want a refill?” She set down her almost empty mug of cider and turned to look at him.
“Let me get it.” He quickly rose from his chair, holding his mug with one hand and picking hers up with the other.
“You don’t have to get our refills.” She took another deep breath before she plunged ahead. “And you don’t need to stay if you have other things to do at home.”
“Not stay?” He set the mugs on the countertop and then looked over at her with an intense stare. “Do you want me to go?”
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard pain in his voice that matched what she felt at the thought of him leaving her. “No. Never. I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to stay after Slade so obviously left with Storm in a rush to leave us here alone together.”
“Oh, that.” A smile spread across Dune’s face and lit up his dark-blue eyes with an inner fire. “I guess subtlety isn’t his strong suit.”
“Not hardly. He’s a bull rider, not a poet.” She stood up, unable to sit still a moment longer as energy came bubbling up in her.
“I want to stay awhile, if you want me.”
“Oh yes.” She returned his smile, feeling complete
ly happy. “Let’s take our drinks in by the fire. It’ll be more comfortable there.”
“And more like Christmas.” He ladled cider into both their mugs, then turned off the flame beneath the steaming pot. “I was thinking about going home to the Hill Country for Christmas, but after the last several days—”
“Oh, I didn’t think—please, don’t let me stop you from being with your own family.” She accepted the full mug he handed to her. “Now I feel guilty for drawing you into my plans when you’re bound to have your own.”
He picked up his mug and walked over to her. “Don’t feel guilty. I’d been putting off making a decision about going down to the ranch. I guess I really don’t want to go this year.”
“Why not?” She led the way into the living room, realizing she didn’t know too much about his background, but of course he’d have family and other commitments. She stopped in front of the two wingback chairs in front of the fireplace.
“My parents are on a Christmas cruise in the Bahamas.”
“Really?” She felt shocked at the idea, because never in a million years would her family even consider being separated at Christmas.
He gave a slight chuckle. “My brother Dan’s got a new girlfriend, and they’re spending the holidays with her family. I’m up here. Maybe my parents felt rejected by their two sons. Maybe they figured we were all grown up and didn’t need or want a traditional Christmas anymore. Maybe they just wanted to get away from their family and ranch responsibilities. I don’t know.”
“Maybe they simply wanted to be alone together.” She set her mug on the redbrick hearth, thinking that’s what she wanted this very night.
He nodded, appearing thoughtful. “I hadn’t considered that idea.”
“Could it be a second honeymoon for them?”
“Now that you mention it, Mom said something on the phone about renewing their marriage vows.”
“It sounds romantic.” She gestured toward a chair and watched as he eased his big frame down onto it.
He looked up at her. “I come from a big family that’s been in Texas since the first settlers. That’s a lot of land, a lot of cattle, and a lot of people to ride herd on from dusk to dawn, seven days a week.”
