Show Me a Family for Christmas : Small-Town Single-Father Cowboy Romance (Cowboy Crossing Romances Book 6)

by Alexa Verde

  Wanna go to an amusement park? Let’s go!

  How about a zoo? It didn’t matter if it was several states away. If the girls wanted to see a giraffe, their mother was booking the tickets.

  They had gone to Disneyland like other families went to the movies.

  Wanna a dollhouse? Let’s go shopping!

  A kitten? Sure!

  Sometimes Gwendolyn thought they could’ve asked for a live giraffe and gotten it, too. Her sister, Vanessa, had certainly suggested it to her.

  Their father had rarely been with them. Mommy said he cared about his job more than he cared about them. Bad Daddy! Gwendolyn screamed, and she and Vanessa had refused to kiss him in the rare times he came home from trips.

  He was a grouch who didn’t like parties. Worse, Gwendolyn had overheard him shouting at their wonderful, fun mother. Gwendolyn had stomped on the floor then, ran to him, and hit his legs with her tiny fists, demanding him to stop yelling at Mommy.

  Bad Daddy, she’d repeated to herself when he’d awkwardly read her a bedtime story. She’d kept her eyes shut and hugged one of the many plush toys Mommy had lavished on her precious, precious, so precious girls.

  Then something horrible happened. Her grouchy, cruel father took her away from the wonderful mother, friends, sister, and the cake-baking nanny. Away from the castle and their fluffy white cat.

  “Not fair! Not fair!” she’d screamed until she was hoarse. She’d outgrown her pink princess dress, but she wanted everything else back.

  They moved to a tiny apartment with gray walls that the dolls in her sparkling three-floor pink dollhouse would laugh at.

  On the contrary, Gwendolyn wasn’t laughing. She was crying. A lot.

  Her grandpa moved in with them to take care of her while her father was on trips, making the apartment even smaller. Grandpa didn’t smell of cake, but of leather and horses—she knew from the few times they’d gone riding. At first, he seemed as grouchy as her father.

  It took her a long time to accept the new situation and warm up to her grandpa. Horses helped.

  Grandpa worked part-time on a ranch and took his scared, hurting granddaughter to them. First to the ponies. She watched him groom horses, walk them, talk to them while he somehow managed to keep an eye on her. His kindness to horses finally allowed her to trust him.

  That trust made her believe him when years later she learned the true story about her parents.

  Amazing how her childhood memories changed over time. It was like one of her toys—a kaleidoscope, tiny pieces of colorful glass encased in a white tube. Every time she’d shaken up the tube, a different picture appeared through the glass peephole. The myriad of colorful miniature glasses remained the same. But they’d arranged themselves in a new way each time, the effect magnified by the reflections in many angled mirrors.

  Wasn’t it incredible how things—no, perceptions, but often perceptions was all that mattered—could change, once shaken up?

  Chapter Eight

  Conner’s lips widened as the children sang carols in front of one of Cowboy Crossing’s homes. They were a little off-key, but what they might lack in musical talent, they made up for in enthusiasm—and volume.

  The elderly couple in the doorframe smiled as they hugged each other. Their wrinkled faces were so peaceful, and their pale blue eyes were so shiny that wistfulness unraveled inside him.

  Joining the tune, he stole a glance at Gwendolyn, who was mostly opening her mouth instead of singing. When he’d married the first time, he’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with Annika, loving her forever, growing old with her like this couple.

  He’d wanted to tell her “Ich liebe dich” until the rest of his days.

  Then he’d discovered nothing was forever.

  Except maybe pain.

  Gwendolyn’s lovely face glowed while she placed her palms on the children’s shoulders. His daughter sang the glory of God at the top of her lungs. As his heart soared with the rising tempo, he wanted to believe in that simple dream again, and something started changing inside him.

  He’d spent so much time punishing himself, blaming himself for many things, from Tara running away to his mother’s unhappiness to Annika’s accident. Apparently, guilt and grief were best buddies who’d often hang out together, and he winced.

  Enough.

  As the song ended, the couple clapped and then rewarded the children with cookies.

  As Conner, Gwendolyn, and the children walked to the next house, he said, “Gwendolyn, I love the costumes you made for the children. You have many talents.”

  Her cheeks pinked. “It’s not a big deal. Jenna helped. As for many talents and skills, as you can see, singing isn’t one of them.”

  He found her even prettier in the glow of lantern light and Christmas lights. “But humbleness is. Um, may I ask why you don’t sing with us?”

  Her blush deepened. “Because if I do, people will start asking who is torturing the cat.”

  Daisy looked up, her eyes big. “Someone would torture a cat?”

  Such horror underplayed those words that he hurried to explain. “No, Sweetie Pie. Of course not.”

  Gwendolyn sighed. “But it would sound like it if I tried to sing.”

  Danica hiked her chin. “Sometimes you just gotta have fun. Right?” She turned to the other children.

  “Yeah!” they said in unison, and Conner grinned. These children—his nieces and nephews—were quite the kids. And if the adults were like these children, maybe he’d made a mistake of not telling them who he was from the get-go.

  His heart warmed as he readjusted his daughter’s multicolored knit hat while they approached a redbrick house with inflated snowmen in front of it.

  During their short time in Cowboy Crossing, the changes in his child made his chest swell. With Gwendolyn’s inclusion of her into the children’s games, with everyone accepting her and outspoken Danica—so opposite in character from Daisy—taking his daughter under her wing, Daisy had smiled more than he’d seen her smile in years. She’d started to blossom under Gwendolyn’s loving attention. And the children had accepted his daughter as one of them.

  He flinched from a stab of guilt as he pressed the doorbell. He’d been afraid the Clark kids would be spoiled and maybe even arrogant, considering the family wealth. He’d transferred his prejudices from his biological father onto innocent children.

  The longer he kept his identity a secret, the more difficult revealing it would be. To the family and to Gwendolyn.

  As they waited, an older navy-blue sedan drove by, the license plate obscured with snow, and he felt rather than saw Gwendolyn tense. He recalled what she’d said about this car.

  His stomach clenched at the alarm in her eyes, and he leaned to her. “Again the same car as the one your father drove?”

  He remembered the feeling of being watched sometimes in the last five years, but he could never explain it. But in her case, it wasn’t a feeling. It was real.

  She visibly swallowed. “Yes. I mean, I know it’s a popular make and model. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  As she looked away, she clearly wasn’t. Although an older model, the car could be a coincidence, but not combined with the decorations and the sticker. He needed to look into this. His protective instincts woke up. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to her.

  After the doorbell chimed again, a gray-haired woman in her sixties opened the front door, holding a calico cat in her arms, the feline appearing especially large against her petite frame. The cat’s claws were firmly in the woman’s Christmas sweater as if he was afraid she’d let him go.

  Daisy darted forward. “Oh, a kitty!” Then she moved back as if remembering their mission. As they sang, the woman’s face brightened, and even the cat seemed to smile.

  Then... then he heard Gwendolyn joining them, at first tentatively, then a little louder. She was willing to venture off her familiar path now.

  Was he?

  Gwendolyn on a background of Chri
stmas lights tugged at him. It was unfair she had associated Christmas with a tragedy, and he was eager to change that.

  Sadness lingered in her beautiful hazel eyes, and he ached to erase it, too. He needed to be truthful with her and the Clark family, but he didn’t want to ruin the holidays. He was going to tell them at Christmas.

  He gave her an encouraging nod as the song lifted to the sky together with his prayer for a Christmas miracle.

  * * *

  Christmas Day was always the hardest for Gwendolyn. Granted, thanks to Conner and his daughter, this holiday season was her best one yet. But she’d learned the hard way that one never felt as lonely as among the crowd.

  When she’d been a child, during Christmas, she’d stop by her neighbors’ windows and imagine her family was the one by the fireplace, with both parents smiling at their children and a large fluffy cat curling up at their feet. Then she’d miss her mother and sister a little less for a few blissful moments before returning to reality.

  As for the cat, due to her father traveling a lot, he didn’t think having one was a good idea. But sometimes, she’d suspected he vetoed the cat because her mother had taken theirs when she’d left, despite Cuddles’s loud protests. She’d said, obviously, they couldn’t divide the pet in two.

  Cuddles had meowed even louder when he’d heard that.

  Gwendolyn’s gut twisted at the memory. It must’ve been difficult for her father to lose a wife, a daughter, and a pet in one swoop. It had been heartbreaking for Gwendolyn.

  A sting of guilt made her grimace, but she hid it fast. The adults exchanged gifts with the boys’ help as messengers, excited and loud. It was a great ending to a day filled with enjoying the church service, giving thanks to the Lord, and savoring a scrumptious dinner.

  And yesterday with Conner and Gwendolyn, dinner was just as scrumptious. She’d found recipes online and cooked a duck with apples and onion stuffing, then red cabbage for the side. She’d made potato dumplings, too, hoping it was all in German Christmas traditions. She’d bought pfeffernuesse before for dessert. The shine in Conner’s and Daisy’s eyes was the best reward.

  Today, children’s laughter mixed with the adults’ many thanks, and the scents of pine needles overlaid the aromas of turkey and pies.

  The nativity scene wasn’t just for show. This was a God-honoring family and a charitable one, as well. Many families in town benefited from their gifts and the charities they donated to, not only during Christmas.

  She did her best to smile.

  This was Christ’s birthday, a time to rejoice and be grateful.

  Forgive me, Lord. Please. Thank You for Your amazing gift.

  The question formed in her mind, and she did the best to hold it back.

  Why did some people have large, loving, close-knit families while others had to be alone?

  Even if the Clark family treated her like one of their own from the start, she wasn’t part of them, and that stabbed sharper among the happy chaos. Instead of looking into the window at Christmas, like she’d done as a child, she was inside the house now. But she wasn’t part of this family, no matter how much she longed to be.

  And she missed her father like never before.

  He was different from the man Mommy had portrayed him to be. While he’d worked all the time to provide for them, Mommy had lived beyond their means. If he’d cut up her credit cards, she’d gotten new ones. She’d borrowed from their friends because she knew he’d grudgingly return debts when back. After a fight, he’d get loans to cover her purchases.

  She’d drained him like doctors drained patients’ blood in old times. Like those doctors, she’d somehow believed she was doing the right thing. She and her daughters deserved the best things in life. Dad loved her so much he forgave her every time.

  Even when he’d come home to find both cars repossessed and the house on the verge of foreclosure.

  Then Mommy had realized she’d drained him dry. He couldn’t give her what she’d needed any longer. Or wanted—which in her eyes was the same. So she’d left him for a man with a new shining palace and a new shining carriage—ahem, luxury car. The hiccup in the plan was the man didn’t want to raise two spoiled daughters who weren’t his. He already had a spoiled daughter, so one more was a max.

  Well, Dad was going to keep at least one daughter anyway and let Mom know, too. She hadn’t flinched, just tilted her head coyly, and said, “Take Gwendolyn then. She’s going to be less fun and more work. She takes after you, after all.”

  Her next husband wasn’t as susceptible to her melodic laugh and carefree character and tried to curtail her spending. So she’d eventually moved on to another one, taking Vanessa with her.

  Gwendolyn didn’t warm up to her father overnight after that long and honest conversation with her grandpa. But then she’d remembered how her father read her stories even when she’d pretended to be asleep. She’d started noticing how he gave her the best food at meals, helped her with homework, and then found fun things to do that didn’t cost much.

  After some time, they’d become a team of three. She, Dad, and Grandpa. Until she became a team of one.

  It had taken Dad years to pay off her mother’s debts while living frugally. Gwendolyn learned there was a high price to pay for loving someone too much....

  Back in the present, her gaze met Conner’s across the room, and their gazes held for longer than they should have. Warmth pooled in the pit of her stomach, even as she shivered. She’d have to say goodbye to him and Daisy soon. Probably right after the New Year.

  Someone touched her hand, and she winced and glanced in their direction.

  “There’s a gift for you.” Vera pointed at Landon standing with a box in front of Gwendolyn. Vera’s gaze was pensive as if she could guess Gwendolyn’s thoughts. Concern etched in her friend’s features.

  Apparently, Gwendolyn had zoned out and hadn’t heard her name called. Being so distracted wasn’t an acceptable quality for a bodyguard and could get her or her client killed.

  But she didn’t expect many gifts, and the fact they had cared to do it touched her.

  “Thank you.” Gwendolyn accepted the box and smiled at Landon, then at Vera.

  From the inscription, the gift was from Vera, and Gwendolyn gave her friend another warm smile. For the next few minutes, she paid more attention. The pile of gifts near her rose with surprising speed, and she smiled apologetically at a few people for whom she hadn’t bought presents.

  They hadn’t done it just for her. Daisy had received a lot of gifts, too, and Gwendolyn loved the grin on the girl’s face.

  Could she have a ridiculous hope that Conner and Daisy would want to stay here?

  More petals unfurled on that budding hope. She’d fallen in love with this small town as much as she’d fallen in love with this family, or maybe those things were related. Somewhere between watching Christmas lights in the quaint homes, participating in the gift drive, or caroling—her, singing, who’d think?—she realized she could see herself here.

  Of course, if the Clark family didn’t need her services any longer, she’d have to find a different job—a different career, actually. But hadn’t Vera changed her life and become happy with the results?

  Gwendolyn glanced at her.

  Her friend leaned toward her and mouthed, “Are you okay?”

  Gwendolyn wasn’t, but she nodded nevertheless. “Thank you for everything,” she mouthed back.

  Liberty hand-delivered her present. “You’re welcome to stay here indefinitely if you want to. The children love you. Actually, we all do.”

  A pleasant wave rose in Gwendolyn. “I appreciate it more than you know.”

  Lord, please guide me. Please help my heart find a home.

  She needed to figure out who was behind her father’s murder, so time off could come in handy. But it would be great to know she’d have a place to return to instead of leaving one assignment for another.

  Conner got up as if he were going to say som
ething, and she froze.

  What was going on?

  Then the youngest brother in the family and his wife, Heather, announced they were expecting twins. Conner sat down again. As much as she was happy for the growing family, longing for her own child to love unraveled in her heart.

  Then longing sharpened as her gaze returned to Daisy, who grinned at her. Minutes later, Gwendolyn understood the meaning of that grin better when Nehemiah delivered Daisy’s gift for her, a self-made necklace and a drawing. After Gwendolyn thanked the girl and placed the necklace over her Christmas sweater, tears she couldn’t explain prickled her eyes.

  Conner seemed to make a second attempt to speak, but a marriage proposal to Jenna interrupted him. Everyone joined in congratulations, including Gwendolyn and Conner.

  Premonition twisted Gwendolyn’s heart. What... what did he want to talk about?

  “I’m so happy for you, Jenna.” Liberty snatched her sister into her signature bear hug. “Well, look at us. All the Clark siblings finding love the same year.”

  Gwendolyn stared at Conner.

  Could she find love like all the members of this family? Could he have feelings for her, too? Her feelings for him grew every day, but she forced her features to remain neutral. She’d worked as a human shield long enough to learn to conceal her emotions.

  For the most part.

  She didn’t want anyone to know she was falling for Conner.

  Including herself.

  Chapter Nine

  Conner had never had pangs of conscience this painful his entire life. He’d had the opportunity to reveal to the Clark family and Gwendolyn who he was—even with all the interruptions—and he hadn’t used it.

  Okay, okay, it wasn’t too late. But a nagging feeling in his gut wouldn’t go away.

  “Daddy, can we stay here?” Hugging a plush toy cat she’d received yesterday among other gifts, Daisy lifted pleading eyes after he finished braiding her hair in their room in the B&B.

  His heart about stopped. “Don’t you... don’t you miss our big house in Texas? Your room and toys?”