Cowboy Christmas Redemption

by Maisey Yates

  “It seems like a pretty smart venture,” she said.

  “You sound surprised.”

  “No offense. And you know that I say this with a great amount of love. But you’re not only a former bull rider, you’re a current firefighter. And you fellas have a screw loose.”

  “True enough. Although, once I’m doing this full-time, I won’t be doing the fires anymore.”

  “I...” Her heart twisted, did free-fall through her chest. “I’m actually really relieved to hear that. I tried not to be psychotic about it. But it really... It’s always scared me that you did that still.”

  “I know.”

  “What happened to Clint was... Well, it wasn’t even a freak accident. It was the result of neglect and poor safety standards on the part of the helicopter company. The odds of it happening again are so low. It was such a specific thing. But still, what you do is dangerous. And it... It scares me.”

  She couldn’t fathom losing Caleb. She didn’t want to. Ever.

  “Yeah, well, I won’t be doing it anymore. I don’t really think you have to worry about any of these Christmas trees going rogue.”

  She smirked, happy to lighten the conversation a little bit. “I don’t know. I seem to recall some late-night TV show. When Christmas Trees Attack.”

  “That seems legitimate.”

  She grinned. “Right?”

  His lips turned up into a half smile, and he looked out over the field. There was pride there on his face that resonated inside her. His eyes looked so blue in the late-afternoon light, pale though it was. He walked down one of the rows, and she watched him, his long stride, the way his broad shoulders filled up her vision. Everything inside her felt warm.

  Just looking at him made her feel... Calm. Happy.

  He was the safest of spaces. Her port in the storm, and even if he was here, that wouldn’t change.

  It wasn’t going to change between them. He would be here for her. Because he always was. The very thought made her heart feel slightly too big for her chest.

  Caleb Dalton was one of the few things she could count on in this whole world.

  “You know Amelia is going to love this,” Ellie said. “She could dress as an elf at the lot.”

  “Well, I imagine that would bring in business,” he said, turning and grinning at her.

  “During the day it could be a family-friendly affair, and after dark...you could sell the Christmas trees with no shirt on.”

  The idea made a funny little zip race through her midsection, up and then disconcertingly back down. She squeezed her thighs together.

  He arched a brow. “It’s going to be the dead of winter.”

  “Sure,” she said. “But you know, it’s not for you. It’s for your female clientele.”

  He snorted a laugh. “Should I ask you to come and wear a miniskirt, be my sexy elf?”

  Another little shimmer radiated through her, and she looked away from him, feeling slightly pinned down by the clarity and his blue gaze.

  She sucked in a sharp shot of the cold air and looked down at the ground, trying to clear up some of the heat that had flooded her cheeks.

  She looked back at him. “I don’t think me in a sexy elf costume would work. It’s well documented that women do most of the Christmas tree shopping for the household.”

  “Well, there are some women who may want to see it, Ellie.”

  “Okay, how about we don’t sexualize the Christmas tree farm,” she said.

  “Possibly for the best.” He pulled a face. “Gabe wants me to have the boys working at the lot anyway. And I don’t want them around you if you’re to be dressed as a sexy elf.”

  “No,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I am their teacher.”

  “Yeah, which means you know they already have inappropriate fantasies, but we don’t need to encourage it.”

  “Yeah. Really no.” His blue eyes were somehow just a bit too blue right then. She swallowed hard, confused by the dryness in her throat, and wandered down the same path that he was on. “I can’t believe all this is yours.”

  “That’s why I kept doing the fires,” he said. “I was able to bank most of my money. Combined with the meager winnings I still had saved up from the rodeo.”

  She laughed. “Did you ever win in the rodeo?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I might not have been a champion like Gabe, but I did win some.”

  “You didn’t stay at it very long.”

  “Yeah, Jacob was done. Clint had a wild new idea in mind...”

  “Firefighting.”

  “It seemed good. And hey, we got to travel around quite a bit. See the United States. I mean, mostly see the mountains of the United States on fire, but nonetheless.”

  She stepped into the next row, peered around the pine tree and smiled at him. “Well, I like the Christmas trees. They are impressive.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “Want to see the rest of the place?”

  “I do,” she said.

  The rest of the tour went easily, smoothly. No more strange pickups, no more moments of extreme sadness.

  And all of it served to comfort her further.

  Things might be changing, but Caleb was staying the same.

  Because that was who he was.

  Her comfort. Her safety.

  No matter where he lived, that would be true.

  She knew that she could count on that, of the many, many things she couldn’t.

  With her intent to start moving forward, changing certain things, knowing that he would be ever constant, never changing, was one of the only things that brought her real comfort.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  IT WAS STRANGE the way it happened. Mostly because Caleb was expecting some fanfare. And he really hadn’t expected that he would be the first person to run into West. Not when Gabe was the one coordinating everything; not when Gabe was the one who had been in touch with their supposed half brother. But there he was, standing in the middle of the barn on a Friday afternoon, looking like a disturbing mirror of Caleb himself.

  He had darker hair and a slightly broader build, but he had those Dalton blue eyes, and even Caleb could immediately see all the similarities in their features.

  “Well,” Caleb said. “You must be West Caldwell.”

  “And you’re a Dalton,” West said.

  “That I am,” he responded. “I didn’t think you were getting here today.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t think I gave a time.”

  “I’m not Gabe,” Caleb said.

  “I didn’t figure.”

  “I’m Caleb. Caleb Dalton.”

  He stuck his hand out, and the other man took it, shaking it hard.

  At least he had a good handshake, so there was that.

  It would’ve been a shame to be related to someone who had a weak grip.

  Caleb didn’t need to be best friends with the guy, but it would be helpful if he could respect him.

  “I don’t know what... I don’t know what Gabe has told you about the place. But it’s not like this is a job that pays well.”

  “I’m not here for money,” West said. “I’m here to see what the hell all this is about. Imagine my surprise when I got a letter from a guy claiming to be my half brother. Saying that Hank Dalton was my father. My mom never told me that.”

  “She never told you? Because you know she tried to extort money out of my dad.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Not exactly. I guess my mother paid her off. Sent her away, and the other women, too.”

  “Yeah, Gabe mentioned something about that. That there are other women. Others like me.”

  The silence that fell between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t entirely free of tension, either. Caleb felt the urge to defend Hank, and he couldn’t for the
life of him figure out why since his father’s behavior was pretty indefensible.

  And honestly, he’d probably been avoiding this because it forced him to contend with just how indefensible head-on.

  “Our...our father,” Caleb said, “has a checkered past.”

  “Going back more than thirty years,” West said dryly.

  “Yeah,” Caleb agreed. “So why is it you’re here? Hank is in good health, so he’s not kicking the bucket anytime soon, and your presence wouldn’t be required for you to get a cut of the inheritance even if it did. And this gig at the school doesn’t pay that well.”

  “Believe it or not, Dalton, I don’t need your family money. Even if it’s mine, too.”

  “Then forgive me, but what is it you’re after?”

  His mouth quirked into a half smile, and he rocked back on his heels, his arms crossed over his chest. And Caleb realized they were standing with the exact same posture. “Would you believe it if I said a family?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have a reason to disbelieve you.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I’ll be honest. I’m curious about you. But to an extent... I kind of just want to watch Hank Dalton twist in the wind.”

  Caleb couldn’t even begrudge West that feeling. Not really.

  “Well, I don’t mind someone being bloodthirsty. Especially when there’s a reason behind it. But you know, these boys here at the ranch, they don’t deserve to get entangled in the middle of that. If you’re going to be working with them...”

  “Hell, I am them,” he said. “Petty criminal, and general no-good who did all right for himself for a while. I had a decent life. Big house, big ranch. Gorgeous wife. Too bad she turned out to be a liar.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I just spent two years in jail. She implicated me in an embezzlement scheme that it turns out she and her lover were actually involved in. I wouldn’t screw with white-collar crime. I never have. I’m blue-collar through and through. If it comes down to it, I’ll get my hands dirty. But I’m not about to get them stained with money. I don’t steal, not from people who are out there working hard. It’s not in me. I don’t have a lot of scruples, but that’s one of them.”

  “So you’re a convict. And you’re here to...help with troubled youth.”

  “Yep. That’s about the size of it.” He laughed. “I mean, if I’m honest, it was a good time to get out of Texas, as much as it was anything else.”

  “Well, that might just be perfect.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Welcome to the Dalton ranch.”

  * * *

  ELLIE WAS SWEATY. And she was surrounded by open boxes. She had decided to tackle item one on her list.

  Her Christmas wish list.

  It had been weighing heavily on her the past few days.

  And even after she had been soothed by the time spent with Caleb at his ranch, she still wanted to go ahead with it.

  Item one: buy a new dress, was where she had begun.

  So she had made the most of the varied and brought options and online shopping, and rush-delivered a great many different dresses to her door, and now that Amelia was asleep, she had wine, and she was wiggling herself into fabrics and shapes she hadn’t touched since well before she’d given birth.

  She was currently wearing a red dress that forced her to walk like her thighs had been taped together.

  The shoes didn’t exactly help.

  They were the kind of shoes that were best worn when horizontal, and not when standing.

  She hadn’t had occasion for shoes like this in a great while, either, and she’d actually gotten rid of most of her heels years ago.

  And there were new styles now.

  She’d seen these shoes while online shopping for the dresses and hadn’t been able to resist.

  But she felt like an impostor now, standing there in this red...bandage that was more likely to fit the Elf on the Shelf than it was to fit her.

  She meandered to the mirror in the entryway of the farmhouse and stared at herself.

  She was not used to seeing this much of her breasts.

  Or her legs.

  Or wearing anything that might outline the width of her hips to this degree. She turned and eyed her rear end critically. Then poked at the line she could see just above her underwear.

  It wasn’t...bad, she supposed. It just didn’t use to be...quite so prominent.

  She turned to the side and curled her lip. Her stomach was not flat. Not even close. She supposed it was a triumph that her ass stuck out farther.

  Still, she did not think this was the kind of dress that would lead men to want to dance with her.

  The very idea made her stomach feel like it was withering, falling.

  Going out and dancing?

  She would probably be...six years older than half the women in there. And she had a sudden vision of herself, looking tired and frazzled in a too-tight dress, being passed over for women just old enough to drink whose dresses molded over their bodies with nary a fat bubble in sight.

  She had stretch marks.

  She could not imagine this going well.

  Granted, she had not had a very long time in her life of even trying to date. But from what she remembered, it seemed the kind of men who were out on the prowl were either overconfident and smarmy, or under confident and incredibly nervous.

  And she honestly didn’t have the patience for either. Not now.

  Clint was the only man she’d ever been with.

  And she’d known him well when she got naked with him. Very well.

  Their connection hadn’t been an explosion. It had been sweet, and he had been patient with her. Kind and deferential to her virginity. He’d waited to sleep with her for a whole year after they’d started dating and he’d never pressured her into anything.

  Not that she hadn’t done stuff for him.

  She had, of course.

  She’d been scared, though, and she’d wanted to be sure she was in absolute control of herself and her life.

  What he’d shown her about sex was the same thing he’d taught her about relationships in general: they could be fun.

  It had been revelatory to her. That closeness could be sweet and light. That you could laugh while you were under the covers with someone. She missed that. She wanted to find it again.

  Not a relationship. But maybe...maybe that physical closeness. A little bit of light fun. A little bit of pleasure.

  Okay, she wasn’t going to jump into bed with someone immediately.

  She wanted... Well, first she wanted to find a decent dress. Then she wanted to dance.

  She wanted to feel pretty.

  She was not sure the stress was going to accomplish it.

  There was a knock on her front door, and she straightened, holding the wineglass up and freezing on her very tall shoes. A second later her phone buzzed.

  She walked over to where she had tossed it on the couch and picked it up.

  It’s me.

  The message was from Caleb.

  She suddenly felt ridiculous, standing in the middle of her living room wearing a cocktail dress, drinking wine by herself. Especially now that she’d been caught.

  She jerked the door open. “Yes?” She peered through a crack in the door, not opening it any wider.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “West is at the ranch.”

  She forgot herself for a moment, holding the door open all the way. “What?”

  Caleb jerked back, his eyes sweeping her up and down, his lips thinning into a firm line. “What the hell is that?”

  “What?”

  It only took a moment for heat to flood her face, realizing she was in the very brief dress still. “It’s a m
erlot, Caleb,” she said, holding the wine in front of her and jiggling the glass slightly. “Would you like a glass?”

  “I’ll take a bottle,” he said, pushing in past her.

  His manner was strange, his posture stiff as he maneuvered himself to the far end of the room away from her.

  “So?”

  “No, let’s talk about your dress first,” Caleb said.

  “I hate it,” she said. “In fact, if you’re here, you’re about to be subjected to a fashion show.”

  She might as well. After all, Caleb was a man, but he was more of a safe space than any of the men out there in the bars would be.

  “Okay,” he said slowly.

  “I’m putting on the next one now.”

  “What’s wrong with that one?” he asked.

  “What do you mean what’s wrong with that one? It’s like a size too small, first of all.”

  He looked her over, his blue eyes darting back and forth, the expression on his face that of a man trying to do a very difficult math equation. “I...”

  “You don’t think it’s too tight?”

  “I don’t think that’s a question you can ask men,” he said, his expression blank.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t think such a thing exists, as far as we’re concerned.”

  “Oh, please,” she said, patting her stomach. “No one wants to see this.” She picked up one of the other boxes and squirreled it away to the bathroom that was just down the hall. She peeled her dress off, pulling out the navy blue velvet garment that was still inside the box.

  She wiggled into it and looked at herself critically. It had a wide, deep square neck, and also showed off a fair amount of boob, but it didn’t cling quite so tightly to her amplified curves.

  She began to exit the bathroom again and froze.

  Caleb didn’t think the dress had looked too tight on her. Which meant he had liked the look of her body.

  And she had no idea what to do with that.

  You like the look of his body. He’s a good-looking man.

  True. She had made a joke earlier today about him selling Christmas trees with his shirt off. It wasn’t any different.