Книга - A Texas Holiday Reunion

A Texas Holiday Reunion
Shannon Taylor Vannatter


His Christmas HomecomingWith her foreman out of commission, Resa McCall needs horse trainer Colson Kincaid to run her family ranch through the holidays. But having the handsome single dad back in Bandera, Texas is unsettling. Colson broke Resa’s heart years ago and she can’t risk getting close again. Still, working with him and bonding with his sweet little girl is making the ranch feel merry and bright. Being at Resa’s side stirs up emotions Colson thought were long gone. But he has a powerful secret, which could keep them apart forever. Can Colson give Resa the one Christmas present that might finally bring them back together—the truth?Texas Cowboys: Maverick hearts find their match







His Christmas Homecoming

With her foreman out of commission, Resa McCall needs horse trainer Colson Kincaid to run her family ranch through the holidays. But having the handsome single dad back in Bandera, Texas, is unsettling. Colson broke Resa’s heart years ago, and she can’t risk getting close again. Still, working with him and bonding with his sweet little girl is making the ranch feel merry and bright. Being at Resa’s side stirs up emotions Colson thought were long gone. But he has a powerful secret that could keep them apart forever. Can Colson give Resa the one Christmas present that might finally bring them back together—the truth?


“What’s going on?”

“Have a seat.” Mac gestured to the sofa.

Nerves pinging, Resa perched on the edge.

“Just tell me.”

“As you know, I saw my doctor Friday.” Apology was thick in Juan’s voice. “He wants to do a knee replacement.”

Her jaw dropped. Please, not until after Christmas. Not now. She couldn’t deal with not having a foreman.

But she tried not to let her distress show. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I took the liberty of doing that for you.” Juan turned to Colson. “I called Mr. Mac when I got the news.”

And that had what to do with Colson?

“Colson has agreed to fill Juan’s spot until his return.” Mac’s tone was confident. As if all her worries were taken care of.

Colson. The man whom, almost six years ago, she’d become friends with. Whom she’d fallen for.

And who had gone back to San Antonio without even saying goodbye. And married someone else. And now he’d be here for seven weeks? Her heart took a nosedive.

This could not be happening. She couldn’t let it.


Dear Reader (#uf97e750b-66b2-5735-a2a5-a71411503cfc),

I’ve long loved reunion romances. Those stories of obstacles keeping the hero and heroine apart for years. Until finally, they work through their baggage and get to make up for all the time they lost.

Log furniture designer, beautiful heiress, Resa McCall had it all. But the man who completed her married someone else when the sins of his past caught up with him.

Almost six years after their whirlwind romance, with Resa in desperate need of a foreman, Colson came to her rescue. And Resa finally understood why he’d abandoned her.

But Colson had a secret eating him alive. Bandera was the last place he needed to be, the one place that could blow his world apart.

Colson and Resa had to rely on God and embrace the truth before they could stop being so stubborn and trust each other. These characters had long been in my head and I’m so glad they finally made it to paper.

I hope their story reflects my core belief—romance doesn’t make the world go around—God does. Forever love is a blessing straight from Him.

Look for the final book in this series and discover why Devree, the wedding planner, is so pessimistic about taking the plunge.

Blessings,

Shannon Taylor Vannatter


SHANNON TAYLOR VANNATTER is a stay-at-home mom/pastor’s wife/award-winning author. She lives in a rural central-Arkansas community with a population of around one hundred, if you count a few cows. Contact her at shannonvannatter.com (http://www.shannonvannatter.com).


A Texas Holiday Reunion

Shannon Taylor Vannatter






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Greater love hath no man than this,

that a man lay down his life for his friends.

—John 15:13


To my husband—my own personal Superman.

On top of pastoring our church,

he makes grocery-store trips, post-office runs

and endlessly chauffeurs our son.

All so I can stay home and write.


Contents

Cover (#u37921c8b-56b3-55c0-9f42-bac0ed5cbe30)

Back Cover Text (#uadd62714-3536-5bcc-b0e7-c3fa88033fba)

Introduction (#u5be7128b-95e5-558d-87df-eeb28a4e4e6d)

Dear Reader (#ueeee196e-7011-505d-a13e-12ff12403175)

About the Author (#u7ba65f3d-b77c-5883-9016-22a994fa5bf2)

Title Page (#uec3e160a-5cb3-57b4-9849-6adb829d1615)

Bible Verse (#u818f982b-c959-5aa8-8a10-51fa80430a1e)

Dedication (#u646413fd-b06d-5516-9727-6661359694c0)

Chapter One (#u76cfaf54-dcfc-5e39-948b-2b64f4a672f5)

Chapter Two (#ub8f004b7-4473-55cc-ac24-9a8521faec4a)

Chapter Three (#uacb767dc-0f04-5d87-b065-77c4d65f3443)

Chapter Four (#u55738512-4ca3-568d-b3ff-32a59f79db49)

Chapter Five (#u6d289017-32ed-5b84-95dc-3e9bdff42090)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#uf97e750b-66b2-5735-a2a5-a71411503cfc)

As her parents exchanged their wedding vows, Resa McCall dabbed at her tears.

And tried to ignore one mind-numbing cowboy, Colson Kincaid.

She and Dad had pulled it off—surprised Mom with a renewal ceremony at the Bandera, Texas, dude ranch where they’d married thirty years ago last spring.

On this first afternoon of December, the anniversary of the day they’d met, they wore replicas of their original wedding finery. The same bridesmaids and groomsmen who’d stood up for them initially now flanked her parents. Even the thirty-five-year-old ring bearer and flower girl had come. And most of their friends and family were here, too.

But try as she might, Resa couldn’t keep her gaze from wandering to Colson now and then. Confident and still ridiculously handsome. Bandera rodeo hero, high school heartthrob with swoon-worthy, vivid green eyes. They’d worked together in their early twenties, six years ago. Fallen in love.

And then he’d left without so much as a goodbye. Spurred her vow to never trust another with her heart other than Jesus Christ.

“I now pronounce you still husband and wife.” The pastor winked and pointed to the mistletoe overhead. “Duncan, you may kiss your wife.”

Great. Resa had missed half the vows thanks to Mr. Cowboy Distraction.

Beneath the tulle-draped rafters of the great room, multicolored twinkle lights reflected off the iridescent Christmas garland as her parents laughingly kissed. Their devotion to one another was clear in their sweet embrace. As a teen, she’d longed for that kind of love. To follow in their footsteps with a committed lifetime marriage.

Until Colson Kincaid.

“Mr. and Mrs. McCall request your presence for the reception in the dining room across the foyer,” the pastor announced, as a mideighties love song started up.

Her parents turned to face their guests. Wearing blissful smiles, they retraced their steps down the white-poinsettia-lined aisle toward the foyer. The wedding party followed and then Resa and her brother, before ushers began escorting guests.

Her gaze flitted to Colson, then darted away. The last person she wanted to see. Today or any other day. She’d had to invite him. How could she not, since his father was her parents’ business partner? But she hadn’t thought he’d actually come.

In the foyer, Mom and Dad lined up with the wedding party.

“This is so wonderful.” Mom latched on to Resa’s arm. The tears started up again, and before she knew it they were blubbering, with Dad pulling them in for a hug.

“It was Dad’s idea.”

Mom kissed his cheek. “It was perfect.”

True to form, Resa’s brother, Emmett, stood off to the side. Inspecting his nails, looking bored.

“Break it up, you two.” Dad cleared his throat. “Greet our guests without getting them wet.”

“I better go make sure everything’s set in the dining room.” Resa disentangled herself, dabbed under her eyes, shot a glare at Emmett.

She stepped through the doors to the reception area. “Ceremony’s over.” Garland lined each side of the steaming buffet, which included lasagna, zucchini and seven-layer salad. “They’re greeting guests.”

“All set here,” a voice called from the kitchen.

There was a long row of tables in the center for her parents, family, close friends and the wedding party. Round tables filled each side for guests, graced by centerpieces with strings of imitation pearls woven through white poinsettias.

“Thanks.” Resa checked her appearance in a barn-wood-framed mirror. Thankfully, her waterproof mascara had lived up to its hype.

Backing to the entryway doors, she scanned the room. Intricate rockwork twin fireplaces bordered the space, with a wall of windows on the far end. Two massive chandeliers her father had crafted from iron wagon wheels nestled among the massive beams framing the wood ceiling.

Exactly the way it had looked in pictures of her parents’ original reception. Perfect. Only better, since all the current furnishings and decor had come from her family’s handcrafted log furniture store.

The door from the foyer opened. Spicy cologne filled her space. The same scent that had haunted her dreams for six years.

More like her recurring nightmare. She could feel him right behind her now. She drew in a calming breath, turned around.

Not one smart-aleck word surfaced. Probably best. Smart-aleck and Christian attitude didn’t compute. So he’d finagled his way into her heart. Told her she was the only girl for him. Then left her behind, to marry someone else. It was a long time ago. She needed to get over it already.

She forced a smile as her lungs deflated. “I’m surprised you came.”

“I got an invitation.”

“Yes, but—”

“You haven’t seen hide nor hair of me in six years.” He ducked his head. “Dad strong-armed me into coming. Said it was important to your folks.”

He was hatless for once. But his boots, jeans and Western shirt proved he hadn’t changed. He was still a cowboy through and through.

“This place is awesome.” He pointed toward the foyer. “I did those chairs out there.”

“How can you remember?” She’d designed the two cowhide wingbacks on sturdy log frames instead of the usual Queen Anne legs, but hadn’t realized he’d been the crafter.

“I remember all the pieces I build. The same as you probably remember all of your designs.”

She did. And those had been a challenge. When the order had been placed, she hadn’t been sure she could make rustic wingbacks come together. But in the end, it worked. And the second generation owners, neighbors and friends had placed more orders, until only Rusticks Log Furnishings complemented Chasing Eden Dude Ranch.

Silence hung loud and heavy, and turned awkward. He shifted his weight.

“I’m sorry about Felicity.” There, she’d said it. And she was sorry. Why was it so hard for her to say his wife’s name?

His eyes dimmed. He was obviously still grieving her. “Thanks.”

The doors opened. “Heads up.” Devree, her wedding planner, entered the dining room. “I gave the guests a nudge in this direction, so we’re about to be inundated.”

“We’re all set here.” Resa sidestepped Colson, but he chose the same direction and she smacked into him. It was like running into a brick wall.

“Whoa.” His breath fanned her forehead.

He was still solid. Her cheeks went hot as she stepped around him and opened the door to the foyer.

Mac beamed at her. “Resa, so good to see you.” Colson’s dad gave her a warm hug.

“You, too, Mac. Thank you so much for doing the best man thing again.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it.” He was such an honorable man. If only his son was as loyal.

“Please come in,” she called to the guests, gesturing toward the tables. “You’ll find name cards at each place setting and the ushers will help you find your seat.” Her smile felt forced.

Partly because of Colson. But mostly because after the reception, Mom and Dad were leaving and would be gone until Christmas Eve. They were finally taking the time to realize their dream of a Mediterranean cruise. Leaving Resa to oversee Rusticks Log Furnishings and the family ranch.

Alone.

Her gaze landed on her brother. Fun-loving, charming ladies’ man. He didn’t take anything seriously and didn’t have a speck of dependability in him.

Even though Mom had asked him to come home to help run things during their absence, Emmett would probably leave as soon as he took their parents to the airport. At least Resa wouldn’t have to worry about keeping him in line, along with everything else.

Once the reception ended, Colson would leave, too. Then maybe her heartbeat would get back to normal and she could focus on designing furniture and keeping the ranch and the store running smoothly through the Christmas rush.

Just get through this day. Concentrate on Mom and Dad. Not Colson.

* * *

The reception got under way and Colson tried to blend in. Resa’s mom was radiant as she chatted with guests at the head table.

Colson stiffened, immediately on guard when his gaze landed on Emmett sitting just down from his mom. He hadn’t noticed Resa’s elusive, prodigal brother. Hadn’t expected him to show.

But Cheyenne was safely tucked away at the McCalls’ house with his stepmom. Protected from the one man who could turn her world upside down.

With a yawn, Emmett’s ice-blue eyes scanned every attractive female in the room. Nothing had changed since high school. He was still a playboy who was always in trouble, who left a string of young girls heartbroken. But he wouldn’t get a chance at Cheyenne.

Emmett was the epitome of a spoiled rich kid, while Resa never gave off our-parents-are-loaded vibes. A kind, caring Christian. If only Colson had listened to her in high school when she’d tried to tell him about Jesus.

His life would have been so different.

But he wouldn’t have his little girl. Cheyenne was proof that good things could come out of bad decisions.

“Can you believe Maryann asked Emmett to help me at the store while they’re gone?” his dad whispered.

Colson’s insides tilted. “He’ll be here?”

“I sincerely doubt it. I’m surprised he even showed up for the ceremony. He’ll probably leave as soon as they do.”

Colson couldn’t possibly stay here if Emmett did. No way around it, he’d have to let Dad down.

Seated at the head table, Resa avoided his gaze. Maybe he should have stayed in the truck. Steered clear of Emmett. And her.

But one glimpse of Resa still twisted his insides into a pretzel.

Forget-me-not blue eyes still beautiful despite the hurt he’d put there—turned icy when she looked at him. Her silken inky hair, creamy skin, delicate features always turned heads. Her lacy red dress only highlighted her beauty. Yet she’d never married. Never even dated after him, from what he’d heard through the grapevine.

After what he’d done to her, she probably thought he and all other men were just like her brother. And Colson had purposely let her think it.

His father pushed his plate away. “There was a time when I thought you might marry her.”

Colson’s breath caught. “Who?”

“Who.” Dad chuckled. “That girl you haven’t taken your eyes off of. That spring when you worked at the ranch and y’all dated, I thought it would last.”

“I had to do the right thing.” He’d turned his back on her. “Felicity needed me. And now that she’s gone, I have to focus on Cheyenne.”

“But things are different now. And Cheyenne could use a woman in her life.” Dad patted his knee. “Just because your marriage wasn’t good—just because your mother divorced me—it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give love a chance. Look at them.”

The elder McCalls exchanged a kiss. There was a lifetime of love obvious in their smiles.

But his mother hadn’t only left Dad behind. She’d left Colson. Not because she’d died, but on purpose. One day, she’d thrown him the perfect birthday party. The next day, she ran off with another man. Never looked back, called, sent letters or emails. Nothing.

At the tender age of nine, he’d decided to never love another woman. And he hadn’t. Not even Felicity. Until Resa McCall got to him. Took him to church. Introduced him to Jesus. And by trusting in a man he couldn’t see, he’d learned to trust her. Had fallen for her.

But then his past mistakes had caught up with him. Felicity had dropped her bomb. In doing the right thing, he’d left Resa feeling abandoned, just as he’d felt when his mother had left. Trashed any chance of anything happening with the only girl he’d ever loved. Trashed her heart in the process.

Her gaze met his, then skittered away.

The longing to explain boiled in his gut. To tell her why he’d married Felicity. To share how miserable his marriage had been. To dislodge the distrust he’d embedded in Resa’s eyes. To make it up to her, the only person he’d ever intentionally hurt. His time working here would be easier if he cleared the air. But if she didn’t hate him anymore, his heart might end up in very dangerous territory.

He had to focus on his daughter. And even though Felicity had lied to him, made his life miserable, she hadn’t deserved to die. He didn’t deserve to be happy and he couldn’t risk Cheyenne’s biological family learning the truth.

Of all the places he needed to avoid, Bandera, Texas, was top of the list. Yet here he was. For the next three weeks until her parents returned. Maybe even the full seven weeks until the ranch foreman could come back to work. Gripping his secret and his heart with both fists.

Silverware clinked on glass as Duncan McCall stood. “I want to thank everyone for coming this weekend. A special thanks goes to our daughter, Resa, for pulling this together, all without letting her mother in on our scheme until our guests started showing up. And our gracious hosts went above and beyond to accommodate our guests and recreate our wedding day.

“Maryann and I have loved catching up with all of our friends over the weekend.” Duncan raised his glass of sparkling cider. “But we’ve long dreamed of going on a cruise. And since our plane leaves in a few hours, I’m afraid we need to get going.”

The four family members stood, did the group hug thing as the guests applauded.

“Maybe you can help Resa clean up,” Dad whispered.

Something squeezed in his chest. Exactly what Colson didn’t want to do. But he might as well get used to it. At least until Christmas Eve, she’d be stuck with him.

“When will you tell her about Juan?”

“After Maryann and Duncan leave.” Dad lowered his voice even more. “If they find out, they’ll cancel their cruise. I’m just glad you can stay and fill in for him. She’ll have a lot on her plate.”

Given a choice, she’d probably take letting one of her inexperienced hands attempt to run the ranch. Do without a foreman rather than work with him. But during this forced nearness between them, maybe keeping her ranch running smoothly would in some small measure make up for the way he’d hurt her six years ago.

Colson just needed to bide his time here, get his head and heart together. Once this gig was over, he could go back to Kingsville. Back where nothing mattered but Cheyenne.

* * *

“None of your usual antics.” Dad jabbed a finger at Emmett.

Resa loved her brother, but he was so transparent. He’d never step foot in the office or ranch during their absence.

“Who, me?” Emmett raised his hands in surrender, his playful smile oozing charm.

Bringing Emmett home to help had been Mom’s idea. She hoped these three weeks would give him stability, teach him responsibility. But Resa didn’t see it happening. The doubt reflected in Dad’s eyes said he didn’t, either.

“You’re here to lend a hand. Not to flirt. Be a help to your sister, not a hindrance.”

“We’ll be fine.” She gave each of her parents a reassuring hug. “Don’t worry, have fun, and get out of here or you’ll get held up at the airport and miss your flight.”

“Are you certain you’ll be all right? I hate for you to be alone through the Christmas rush.” Mom twirled a strand of Resa’s hair between her fingers. “We should have stopped taking orders months ago to cut your workload while we’re gone.”

“I’m fine. It’s only a few weeks. Juan can handle the ranch, Mac’s got the store. Emmett’s here to help and y’all will be back in time for Christmas.” She tried to sound convincing, and plastered on a smile. “You’ve looked forward to this trip your entire marriage.” She picked up a suitcase, handed it to Dad. “Now go.”

“You’re right.” Dad kissed the top of her head. “You’ve got this, with or without Emmett.”

“Hey.” Emmett glowered. “I came when you called, didn’t I? Don’t I get credit for that?”

“I’ll get a full report when we return.” Dad frowned. “No trifling with our employees. It’s against company policy.”

“If you trust me so little, why did you call me?” The hurt in Emmett’s tone was backed up by his wounded gaze.

But Dad didn’t soften. “Here’s your chance to show me what you got.”

“Stop worrying.” Mom clucked her tongue. “Emmett’s not a kid anymore. He’ll be fine.” She checked her watch. “We really should be going.”

Another round of hugs and Resa managed to hold the tears threatening to spill.

“Your mother made me promise not to check in,” Dad whispered. “But you’ll call if anything goes wrong?”

“I will. But it won’t.”

Mom tugged him out the door.

“You’re not coming back, are you?” Resa murmured to Emmett, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Of course not. You don’t need me hanging around. You got this.”

True. But just once, it would be nice to be able to count on her brother.

“I’ll be back for the Christmas open house this weekend, and then the night before their return.” Emmett followed them out, stashed their suitcases in the trunk of his Ferrari and helped Mom into the back seat.

Standing on the porch, Resa waved until they rounded a curve on the wooded property and were out of sight.

Guests began to disperse and she thanked each one for coming.

As soon as the last one exited, she crossed the lobby to help Landry, her friend and owner of the dude ranch, clean up.

“Resa, we need to talk.”

Mac.

She turned around to face him. There was Colson by his dad’s side.

“It’s business.” Mac gestured to the paneled door by the check-in counter. “Your friend said we could use the office.”

“Sure.” Why include Colson? He hadn’t been involved with the stores in six years. Resisting the urge to suck in a big breath, Resa crossed the foyer. Inside, Juan, the ranch foreman, waited in a nailhead wingback chair.

Mac settled on the leather sofa, with Colson flanking Juan in a matching chair.

“There you are.” The slight Mexican man straightened his left leg out in front of him. He’d always been kind and treated her with fatherly care. But today, his smile was jittery.

“What’s going on?”

“Have a seat.” Mac gestured to the sofa.

Nerves pinging—from Colson’s presence and Juan’s tone—Resa perched on the edge. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“Just tell me.”

“As you know, I saw my doctor Friday.” Apology was thick in Juan’s voice. “He wants to do a knee replacement.”

Her jaw dropped. Please not until after Christmas. Not now. She couldn’t deal with not having a foreman. Not until Dad was here to fix it.

Stop being selfish. Focus on Juan. “Rest assured, I’ll take care of anything your insurance doesn’t cover.”

“I appreciate that, Miss Resa. It’s terrible timing. I wanted to tell you, but I knew if your folks knew, they’d cancel their trip.”

And they would have. It was just like Juan to know that. To worry about it.

“You just do what you need to do. When is the surgery scheduled?” Her ranch hung on his response.

“My doctor had a cancellation, so he can get me in Thursday. Or I wait for three months.”

Breath clogged in her chest. As in four days away. “I know how much pain you’ve been in. I don’t want you to put this off.”

“I need to go on leave as of now. Doc wants me to take six weeks afterward. I’m so sorry, Miss Resa.”

For a total of seven weeks, starting now. And what if the surgery wasn’t a success? What then?

But she tried not to let her distress show. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I took the liberty of doing that for you.” Juan turned to Colson. “I called Mr. Mac when I got the news.”

And that had what to do with Colson?

“Colson has agreed to fill Juan’s spot until your folks return. And if needed, until Juan can come back.” Mac’s tone was confident. As if all her worries were taken care of.

Colson. In Bandera. At her ranch. For three weeks. Maybe more. Her heart took a nosedive.

This could not be happening. She couldn’t let it.


Chapter Two (#uf97e750b-66b2-5735-a2a5-a71411503cfc)

Resa’s mouth opened, clamped shut, opened again. “But what about your job?”

Colson was certain her anxiety came from being stuck with him for the foreseeable future.

“I’m on leave.” He tried for a reassuring tone. “King’s Ranch can handle my absence.” But could she handle his presence?

Curiosity sparkled in her eyes, her question clear—why was he on leave? “There’s no need for you to come here.” The muscles in her throat worked overtime. “Don’t we have a hand who can take care of things, Juan?”

“They’re not ready, and we need to move fast while prices are down and invest in more cattle. I planned to make the trip to Fredericksburg next week. We need someone who knows good stock when he sees it.”

“The timing is perfect, with Colson’s experience as a foreman at the largest ranch in Texas for the last two years. And he’s available.” His dad focused on Resa, probably pondering her panic.

“Are you on medical leave?” Her gaze bounced back to Colson’s. “Because if that’s the case, we can’t put you to work here.”

“No. Nothing like that.” The horse Felicity had died riding flashed through his mind. The one he’d supposedly broken. After the incident, memories of her death had caused him to be constantly distracted and that inattention had almost cost a ranch hand his life when Colson had underestimated a longhorn. “My boss thought I needed some personal time.” To get his head and heart together.

“Oh.” Compassion was mirrored in the blue depths of her eyes. Clearly, she thought he was still grieving Felicity. More like wallowing in guilt.

“But where will you stay?”

“Since Mac and his wife, Annette, will be house-sitting while your folks are gone—” Juan stretched his leg, as if he couldn’t get comfortable “—Colson could stay with them.”

Resa’s eyes went wide, empathy obviously forgotten.

“I can get a room here at the dude ranch if you prefer.”

“Nonsense.” Juan flexed his knee. “There’s plenty of room at the big house.”

“Good thinking.” Dad tapped his chin. “Colson can help keep an eye on the place while I’m at the store.”

“But I don’t need anyone to keep an eye on things,” Resa fisted her hands.

“I won’t bother you or disturb your space.” It was the least he could do. Watch out for her.

“All right. I guess.” Uncertainty hung in her words. “But once my parents return, Dad can handle the ranch while I see to the store. Can you stay and continue in the workshop until Juan’s return, Mac?”

“Whatever you need me to do.”

“Good.” She focused on Colson. “You’re only here for the next three weeks then.”

“Give or take a few days.” The muscle in his jaw flexed. Obviously she didn’t want him here any longer than he had to be.

“I need to go help take down decorations.” She stood.

His dad rose to his feet, as did Juan and Colson.

“You go home and rest that knee.” Resa pointed at Juan. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Yes, Miss Resa.” He bobbed his head and hobbled out of the room.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Mac.” Resa hugged the older man. She was so at ease with everyone—except Colson.

“If anything goes awry while your folks are gone, we’ll figure it out together,” his dad said.

“I’ll take you up on that.”

He gave Colson a warm hug next, with lots of back clapping. “You be a blessing here, son.”

“I will.” At least he’d try. If Resa would let him. “I’ll walk out with you.”

“I remember where I parked. Help Resa with cleanup.” Dad exited.

Resa shot from the room as if bloodhounds tailed her.

Colson followed her to the great room. All the chairs, pillars and candles were gone. Boxes full of red roses and ribbons lined the area.

There was a steady buzz of a vacuum, which Resa manhandled from another woman, taking over the chore.

“Can you help me move the furniture back in?” A familiar-looking man gestured toward a side room.

“Sure.”

“Great. Follow me.” He stopped after a few paces, turned and offered his hand. “Sorry. Chase Donovan.”

“As in Chasing Eden Dude Ranch. I remember you and your sister from high school. You were older than me and your sister was younger. Is she still around these parts, too?”

His mouth tipped down. “Eden died a year and a half ago.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“You’re Colson Kincaid, right? Your dad’s a business partner of the McCalls?”

“Right. I’m filling in as ranch foreman while Juan has knee surgery.”

“Nice. Need a place to stay?”

“I’m staying at the McCalls’.”

The man’s eyebrow lifted.

“Not with Resa. At her folks’ house. My dad and stepmom are house-sitting while they’re gone.”

He noticed Chase visibly relax at that explanation. “You’ll have to forgive me. Resa and Eden were friends, so I’m a bit protective of her. Good to know she won’t be rambling around alone over there. Your dad’s a stand-up guy.”

“Is Emmett not staying?” Colson held his breath.

“Headed back to Dallas as we speak.”

He let out a lungful of air. If Emmett had stayed, there would’ve been no way Colson could have.

“I’m not sure why her mom thought he’d stay. But I guess moms only see the good in their children.”

Not his mom. She hadn’t seen anything in him worth staying for.

Colson surveyed the feminine room stuffed with wall-to-wall furnishings. “What needs to be moved?”

“Everything frilly stays. My grandmother decorated this room. And my wife insists it stay this way. Grandpa did the rest. Everything rustic goes back into the great room.”

“So which lady is your wife?”

“The strawberry blonde in the green dress is Landry.”

“Did she go to our school?”

“No, but she, Eden and Resa were college friends. Not from around here. Didn’t you get married?”

“To Felicity Birmingham. But she...” Guilt jabbed him in the gut, the way it always did when he was forced to talk about her.

“That’s right. Sorry to hear it.” Chase lifted one end of the sofa as Colson grabbed the other and backed into the great room.

Leaving Colson to ponder what Chase had heard about Felicity’s death, exactly.

They deposited the bulky cowhide piece against one wall and Landry directed them on placement. Chase’s smile turned sappy at his wife’s nearness.

Oh, brother. How long would their bliss last?

A dozen more trips and the great room was put back together.

“Thanks for all your help.” Landry flashed him a grin.

“No problem.” Colson glanced at Resa. “If we’re done here, I’ll head to the house.”

She ignored him.

“Um, I’m not sure if that’s where Dad went.” And Annette had mentioned taking Cheyenne out for ice cream. “I might need a key.”

“Oh, of course.” Resa grabbed her purse from a small closet, dug around in it and handed him the key.

Their fingers grazed. His pulse kicked up a notch. And just for a moment, he wished she’d look at him the way Landry did Chase. But Colson had ruined that possibility six years ago and he didn’t need to fix it, because women couldn’t be trusted. Even if a few stuck around, it wasn’t worth taking the chance. Especially with his daughter in the equation.

For the next three weeks, he had to help Resa with the ranch. Buy livestock, stay on top of upkeep and make sure everything ran smoothly. But that was all. He couldn’t let himself get involved with her on a personal level. His heart was reserved for Cheyenne. And after what he’d done to Felicity, he had no right to anything more.

* * *

As the door shut behind Colson, Resa relaxed.

“Do tell.” Landry was on to her.

Resa shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“You might as well spill.” Devree sealed the last box of silk flowers with a screech from the strapping tape dispenser. “My sister won’t leave you alone until you do.”

“She’s right.” Chase pecked his wife on the cheek. “I’m off to do something manly to make up for all this wedding fluff.”

“You know you love it.” Landry shot him a wink.

“No. But I love you.” He blew her a kiss and exited.

Maybe Landry would go all to mush and forget about Colson.

“So?”

Wishful thinking. “His dad is my parents’ business partner. We went to school together. He was a year ahead of me.”

“Is he the friend you mentioned once?”

Why did Landry have to have such a good memory? “We were friends once.”

“More than friends?”

“I thought we were. But it turned out he wasn’t who I thought he was.”

“Really? He seemed so nice.”

“Yeah. I thought so, too. But I learned my lesson.” After he left third-degree burns on her heart.

“Hmm.” Landry huffed. “I take it back. I don’t like him at all. But you’ll have to tell me why I don’t like him someday.”

“Trust me. Not everyone is destined for happily-ever-after.” Devree rolled her eyes.

“Says the hardened wedding planner.” Landry tsked as if there was no hope for her sister.

“I can’t change the facts.” Devree dragged the tape across a box of twinkle lights with another screech. “I bet out of all the weddings I’ve done, only a dozen couples, maybe less, are still married.”

“That doesn’t mean you should give up.”

“It means why bother?” Resa held her hand up for a high five and Devree slapped it.

“Well, while you two spend your lonely evening bemoaning the state of happily-ever-afters, I have a wonderful husband to cuddle up to.” Landry smirked.

The very thing Resa had once dreamed of. But her dream had died. A slow, painful, tormented death. And now she was stuck with Mr. Dream Killer himself.

“That’s it.” Landry stashed the last of the boxes in the closet.

“The ceremony was perfect and I never could have done it without you, Devree.” Resa hugged Landry, then crossed the foyer. “I’ll see you soon.”

The waning sun greeted her as she stepped outside. She was bone tired. The chore of keeping this day secret for months, while contacting her parents’ friends and relatives without letting Mom find out, had been daunting.

For the next three weeks, she’d have her hands full overseeing the store and the ranch, plus her designs. Dealing with Colson only added to her chores. If someone had told her this morning that she’d spend half her day with him and end up with him as a neighbor at home and work, she’d have laughed. And possibly cried.

Surely once Dad returned, he’d agree to cut Colson loose and let Mac stay until Juan could come back. Maybe she’d move her work to the store in the meantime.

But she’d tried that fresh out of college. The windowless office in the back of the store sapped all her creativity. While whinnies, stamping of hooves and the low murmur of ranch hands stoked her productivity.

She’d just have to pull up her big-girl boots and ignore his presence.

* * *

Most people moaned and groaned through Mondays. But Resa saw the first workday of each week as a new opportunity, filled with possibilities. Except today, she had to avoid Colson.

Nearing the barn, she darted to her office at the side door. A bright sunny morning. Nickers and whinnies, a freshly weaned calf bawling. The smells of hay and animals. No sign of the cowboy.

Tense muscles relaxed as she unlocked her office door, flipped the light switch and stashed her purse. Another flip of a switch brought to life the Christmas tree and the string of multicolored twinkle lights framing her picture window.

Blueprints for a massive cowhide-lined desk were where she’d left them on her drafting table. A desk for Colson’s father-in-law. Or would that be former father-in-law now? When the order came in, she’d never imagined Colson would be here. At her ranch. She picked up her pencil, adjusted her T-square ruler and shaded along a few lines.

A new sound, like a child’s giggle, interrupted her. She looked out the window. A little girl stood on the bottom rail of the fence, wearing boots and a hat almost as big as she was. Not an adult in sight. A daughter of one of the hands? Resa didn’t mind employees bringing their kids to the ranch, but not leaving them alone. A child could get hurt or lost.

Resa stood, hurried for the back door, pushed it open. And nearly whacked Colson with it.

“Whoa, what’s your hurry?” He stepped aside.

“That child. No one’s watching her?”

“Hello?” He raised his hands, palms up.

“Oh. Well, you should stick close to her. She’s so little, she could slip through the fence before you could get to her.”

The little girl paid them no attention, her gaze transfixed on the mare heavy with her colt in the barn lot.

“But she won’t.” He crossed his arms, leaned against the barn, the sole of one booted foot planted against it like a plywood cowboy silhouette. “She’s been raised on a ranch her entire five years of life. She knows that under no uncertain terms is she supposed to put one toe inside any fence.”

“Who did she come here with?”

“Me. She’s my daughter—Cheyenne.”

Her gaze swung to his.

A mixture of emotions battled it out in his green eyes—regret maybe. Pride definitely.

Everything shifted into focus, made sense. Five years old.

That spring he came to work for her father. Almost six years ago. Realizing he wasn’t as wild as he’d been in high school. Becoming friends. Inviting him to church. Watching him commit his life to Christ. Falling for him. Six weeks of sweet, fairy-tale romance.

And the next thing she knew he’d gone back to San Antonio without even saying goodbye, and married Felicity Birmingham. His on-again off-again girlfriend since high school. The one he’d told Resa he’d broken up with when he came to work at the ranch that long-ago spring. And maybe he had. But Felicity had obviously been pregnant.

With his child.


Chapter Three (#uf97e750b-66b2-5735-a2a5-a71411503cfc)

Colson watched her do the math and saw the moment she realized he’d fathered a child out of wedlock. But he hadn’t realized during their brief relationship that he had a pregnant ex-girlfriend waiting in the wings.

More worrisome than Resa believing he was on shaky moral ground would be if she recognized the truth in Cheyenne’s eyes.

“Your folks never told you?”

“We don’t really talk about you.” Resa’s mouth formed a tight line. “I’ve been much too busy to keep up with your life.”

Of course. “Can you say hello, Cheyenne?” The little girl didn’t budge—nor make a sound. She was back in her shell. He should have known uprooting her might be jarring.

“Shouldn’t she be in school?”

“She only turned five last month, so she won’t start kindergarten until next fall. Missing a few weeks of preschool before Christmas break won’t hurt anything.” He’d just reinforced the fact that only a matter of months after he’d romanced Resa, Felicity had given birth to Cheyenne. A child he’d thought was his.

He saw her swallow hard. A bitter pill?

“She’s a great kid. Won’t be any trouble.”

“My only concern is you being distracted by work and her wandering off.”

Back to business. “She won’t. Dad’s wife agreed to babysit. Annette’s really good with her.” Colson’s gaze went back to Cheyenne. “She’s everything to me.”

“I can see that.” Resa turned toward the barn. “I better get back to my office.”

“What time does the store open?”

“Ten. But my office is here.”

“Here?” As in at her house? He hadn’t seen that coming.

“In the barn.” She gestured to the door she’d almost taken him out with.

“You design furniture for Rusticks—in the barn?” He’d thought it odd when he’d seen the huge picture window on the back of the wood structure.

She chuckled. “I’m not really the corporate, windowless-office type. I have a conference room at the store where I meet with clients. But I do my drafting and designing here.” Her gaze went past the fence to the horses grazing in the distance, the massive expanse of clear blue sky. “The sounds of the ranch, the smells.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’m inspired here.”

This wasn’t what he’d signed up for. The reasons he shouldn’t be here just kept stacking up. He’d expected her to be at the store from dawn to dusk. Instead, she’d be right here with a massive window on his world. On his daughter.

Lord, don’t let her see what I see when I look into Cheyenne’s eyes.

But did he see the evidence only because he knew the truth? He’d been clueless for several years. Maybe Resa would be, too.

He’d held on to this secret too long for it all to fall apart now.

“See ya later.” She opened the barn door, stepped inside.

Would working in such close proximity stir up his old feelings for her? He’d just have to man up and make sure it didn’t.

Because no matter how beautiful she was, how vulnerable or how caring, she was a woman. And women couldn’t be trusted.

Not when she represented a very real and present danger for Cheyenne. And at all costs, he had to protect his daughter.

“Ready to go inside, princess?” He strode to the fence, sidled up beside her. Baby shampoo and innocence untied the knots in his insides.

“Un-uh, Daddy.” Dark silky hair tumbled with a decisive shake of her head.

And hearing her call him Daddy melted him like butter.

“See how big that mare’s belly is.”

Huge blue eyes met his—a tinge of fear in their depths. “Is there a baby in there?”

“There sure is. She should have a foal sometime while we’re here.”

“I don’t wanna pet it.” Her chin trembled.

He scooped her up. “You don’t have to. But it’ll be really small, so you might change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Her arms locked around his neck and she buried her face in his shoulder.

“It’s up to you, princess.” If only he could take away her fear. Take away her memories. No child should watch her father kill her mother.

* * *

The blueprints blurred and Resa’s traitorous gaze bounced up to the window.

Colson was holding her now. The little girl’s knees were clamped at his waist, arms tight around his shoulders, her face hidden in his neck. He had a child.

How had she not known that?

Because her parents knew how badly he’d hurt her, and his name had been off-limits since she’d learned he’d married Felicity.

She should have at least said hi to the little girl. But she’d been too shocked to think. And the child had never even looked her way, she’d just focused on the mare. So quiet and withdrawn. Was she shy, or somehow traumatized by her mother’s death?

Colson kissed the top of his daughter’s head and Resa’s heart did a flip. Why did a cowboy with a little girl make her go all warm and fuzzy?

Because he wasn’t just any cowboy.

The Bonanza theme song started up on her cell phone. Mom.

“Hey. Are you on the boat yet?”

“About to board.” She sounded happy. “All our guests got home safely?”

“I haven’t heard any different.”

“It was so nice seeing everyone. Everything okay there? Emmett’s not giving you trouble?”

The least of her worries and long gone. “Everything’s fine.” Except Juan’s having surgery. Colson is here to take his place. And he has a daughter y’all never warned me about. But if they knew any of that, they’d be on the first plane back. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

“I know you do. Your father and I have complete confidence in you.”

“So, stop worrying about me and have fun. I love you.”

“I love you. Your father wants to say hi.”

“Hey, Dad. Go have fun. And don’t call me again.”

His warm chuckle eased her tense shoulders. “Don’t you want to know when we get on the boat?”

“Text me pictures. But don’t check in. Everything’s fine here. Enjoy your cruise. I love you. And goodbye.”

“I love you, Miss Bossypants.”

“You’re the one who left me in charge.” She ended the call, looked back to the window.

Deep, rich laughter. Colson held his daughter belly up, tickling her tummy. She writhed and cackled with glee. Okay, maybe she wasn’t so withdrawn, after all. At least not with her father.

The realization that Cheyenne even existed was still sinking in.

Maybe tonight, Resa would fix them a meal, make a point to get to know the child and prove to Colson she really was over him.

* * *

It was suppertime, but food was the last thing on Colson’s mind. He’d let Cheyenne spend an hour with him this morning to get her acclimated to their temporary home. But his day had stretched long after Annette retrieved her. His heart did triple time as he let himself in the McCalls’ house, the way it always did when he’d been away from his daughter, even if only for a few hours.

Last night he’d seen that the house was much as he remembered. Large, but not as grand as the McCalls could have afforded. Massive beams, rustic design, a veritable showroom full of Rustick’s furnishings. A lot like his dad’s. He could hear Dad’s voice, Annette’s, and a child’s giggle that warmed him from the inside out.

Cheyenne lay on the yellow pine floor, her dark curtain of hair framing her face, a frown of concentration there as she colored a princess’s hair pink. Dad and Annette were smiling on from the nailhead log couch.

Colson plopped down beside Cheyenne.

“Daddy.” She shrieked, pushed up and barreled into him.

“How’s my little beauty? Do you like the new digs?”

“It’s okay.” But she only had eyes for him.

If he could just bottle these moments...

“Wanna color?”

“Can’t wait.”

She wiggled out of his arms, returned to her coloring book, pointed to the prince next to her page. “You can do him.”

“What color hair should he have?” He lay flat on his belly beside her.

“Blue since he’s a boy.”

“Blue it is.” He grabbed the crayon and went to work. He looked up when he felt his dad’s and Annette’s scrutiny. They were holding hands, both of them grinning at him. Married four years, they were obviously still crazy about each other. “What?”

“Adorable.” Annette shot him a fond wink.

“Thanks for helping out with her.”

“We had fun. I felt like a teacher again. Cheyenne will keep me in practice for subbing again next year.”

Though Annette clearly loved teaching, she didn’t seem to regret going from full-time to being a substitute when she’d relocated to marry his dad. At first, Colson had been leery of the new woman in Dad’s life. He hadn’t wanted to see his father get hurt again. And his hackles had gone up when Annette had gently suggested Cheyenne needed counseling last year.

But she’d been right. He’d watched his little girl slowly come out of her shell over the last few months. Annette had been good for Dad. Good for all of them. Colson had sympathized when he’d learned her first husband had cheated on her, left her for another woman. She’d been just as wounded as Dad, so Colson had gotten to know her. Trust her even, which was rare for him.

“I better do something about supper.” Annette stood.

“You don’t have to slave over us.” Colson finished the prince’s hair. “I’ll make us sandwiches or something.”

“Nonsense. Cheyenne needs more than deli meat to grow on.” She headed for the kitchen.

This hiccup would be rough on all of them. New surroundings for Cheyenne. Her biological family—still in the dark—within a stone’s throw. Dad and Annette uprooting their lives, sharing a house with Colson.

If his dad only knew the pickle Colson was in. But he’d let Dad down so much in the past. And Dad had never asked much of him. The least he could do was keep the McCall ranch running well during their absence. He’d just have to ignore Resa.

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it. But it feels funny answering the McCalls’ door.” Dad hurried to the front of the house.

Colson could hear a feminine voice. He couldn’t make out the words, but he knew it was definitely Resa, making herself hard to ignore. Two sets of footfalls sounded as they made their way back to the great room.

Colson stiffened. No, Dad, keep her away from Cheyenne.

Maybe he should have told him the truth. But he knew his dad would want him to tell Resa. And he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t risk losing Cheyenne.

Colson looked up, shifted his position as his old rodeo injury flared heat through his shoulder.

“Isn’t this nice.” Dad held a large red pot with hot pads. “Resa brought us chicken and dumplings. And perfect timing, since Annette was just about to rustle us up a meal. I better go head her off.” He continued toward the kitchen.

“I love to color.” Resa shoved her hands in her pockets. Awkward, but her eyes softened as she watched Cheyenne. There was no judgment or teasing toward him, even though he currently held a crayon labeled cornflower blue.

Cheyenne’s gaze never left her work; her crayon never stopped moving.

“We didn’t get to meet this morning. I’m Resa.” She strolled over, then settled across from Cheyenne.

She glanced up at Resa, her eyes widening because of this new adult invading her space, then focused once again on her picture.

“I really like the princess’s hair pink.” Resa smiled.

Seeing Cheyenne’s pale blue eyes didn’t seem to bring any new awareness to Resa.

Colson relaxed a bit.

“My teacher always wanted me to make it yellow, or brown, or black,” his daughter murmured. “But I told her pink is for girls.”

How had Resa gotten her talking? Usually Cheyenne clammed up around anyone she didn’t know.

“I like the way you think.”

Cheyenne glanced up at her again.

“I always wished I had purple hair.” Resa tentatively reached over, twirled a strand of Cheyenne’s hair around her finger.

“Really?” Cheyenne’s crayon broke. “Uh-oh.” She reached for another pink one. “But pink would be better.”

“I agree. Maybe we can color together sometime.”

“Maybe.” Cheyenne’s voice rose an octave. Interested? Or nervous?

Resa stood. “I’ll let myself out.”

The right thing to say battled in Colson’s throat. “Sure you don’t wanna stay for supper, since you cooked it?”

“I appreciate the offer. But I’m good.”

“Thanks for the dumplings.” Relief ebbed through his stiff muscles. “My favorite.”

“Yeah, I remember.” She shrugged. “And most kids like them. I didn’t know what Mom left in the fridge or if Annette had a chance to go shopping. So I thought I’d help y’all get settled in.” She scurried for the door. “See you tomorrow.”

And the next day. And the one after that. He rolled over on his back.

“Daddy, you’re not finished.”

“I know, princess. Just resting my shoulder.” She wiggled over to him, buried her head in his chest.

He’d passed the test. Resa had seen Cheyenne up close and personal. And hadn’t figured out that Emmett was his daughter’s true father.


Chapter Four (#uf97e750b-66b2-5735-a2a5-a71411503cfc)

Christmas lights bordered the entire storefront, casting a glow on Jed. Rustick’s former furniture crafter had his head bent, intent on his work.

“Morning, Jed.” Resa neared the church pew that had sat outside her family’s store for as long as she could remember. The grizzled man seated there was as much of a fixture as the pew. Wood chips and curls surrounded his feet as he dug his knife into the stock of the cane, forming an intricate pattern.

He looked up from his work, gave her a wink. “Morning.”

“Got that cane about finished? I may have it sold.” She adjusted the blueprint tube under her arm.

“I’m working as fast as these hands will let me.” They were gnarled and twisted with arthritis, but that didn’t stop him.

“It’s starting to get cold. You know you’re always welcome in the workroom.”

“It’s still pleasant enough so far. Your folks’ ceremony sure was nice. How’s the cruise?”

“I’m worrying they may decide to never come home. They’ve been sending me pictures from the ship. I can’t believe this is only the second day they’ve been gone.”

“Heard about Juan.” Jed nodded, never looking up from his task. “And the Kincaid boy.”

“You probably remember Colson when he trained with Dad and Mac here. Before we expanded to San Antonio.” Her heart did a painful thud. Why was it still hard to say his name? “I better get inside. I’m meeting with a client.”

She entered the store. There was a massive tree by the door covered in rustic wooden star, cross and dove ornaments—each intricately carved by Jed long ago. Christmas lights surrounded cedar mirrors, barnwood-framed paintings and even an ash dining table.

“Morning, Nina. The decorations look nice.”

“Thank you.” Tall, with salt-and-pepper hair and always stylish from head to toe, Nina had been with the store since Resa’s teenage years.

There were no customers yet. “Everything running smoothly here?”

“Like a well-oiled machine. Heard from your folks?”

“Having the time of their lives. Show Mrs. Birmingham to the conference room when she arrives.”

“Of course.”

Resa continued to the back of the store, entered the conference room, removed the blueprints from the tube and arranged them on the long table. Nina had been here, too. A small fiber-optic tree lit a shelf in one corner of the room.

The phone at the end of the table buzzed. An in-house call.

She grabbed it. “Resa speaking.”

“Colson Kincaid would like to see you.” Nina’s tone was all business.

But the phone almost slid from Resa’s grasp. The soft, instrumental, Christian background music usually soothed her, but every nerve ending she possessed jangled.

Nina cleared her throat on the other end of the line.

“Give me a minute.” Resa sucked in a quivery breath. “And then send him in.” She hung up, pressed her hands on the glossy live edge cypress table. Counted to ten. Out loud.

A knock sounded at the door.

She straightened, raised her chin. “Come in.”

“Sorry to bother you, but the feed store won’t let me put anything on the ranch account.” Hat clasped to his chest, Colson cocked an eyebrow.

Why could she never get enough air when he was around? His mere presence drained all oxygen from the room.

“I’m sorry. I failed to let them know you were on staff.” She grabbed a paper clip from the corner of the table, straightening and bending it between her fingers. “I have a meeting with a client, but I’ll make the call as soon as we’re finished.”

“I thought maybe you’d decided to work here to avoid me.” He sank into one of the chairs at the long table, ignoring her subtle hint for him to go.

She swallowed hard. No. She wouldn’t fall under his spell. It had been six years since he’d broken her heart. And she hadn’t missed him. Not one iota.

Even though she understood why he’d left her, he should have been man enough to tell her the truth instead of pulling a disappearing act.

“I’m not hiding.” Her mouth went taut and she gestured to the blueprints. “I’m meeting with your mother-in-law, actually.” Or was it former mother-in-law, since Felicity’s death?

“Hyacinth is coming here?” He jumped up, clamped his hat on his head.

“Any minute. I was shocked when she placed the order. Her first one with us. Always struck me as the Queen Anne type, but apparently her husband bought a cabin.”

“I have to get out of here.” He strode to the door.

The phone buzzed. “That’s probably her.” Did they not get along?

“I haven’t told her we’re here yet.” Colson scanned the room as if looking for a place to bust through the wall. “It’s complicated—I wanted to get Cheyenne settled first.”

“I’ll hold her off if you want to slip out the back.” Resa picked up the phone. “Yes, Nina.”

“Mrs. Birmingham is here.”

“Give me a few minutes.” She hung up, gestured to the back of the building. “Turn right in the hall.”

“Thanks.” He opened the door.

“Colson?” Hyacinth Birmingham said from a distance.

But not for long. Colson backed into the conference room as his mother-in-law approached.

Hyacinth stalked inside, her nose in the air. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

Nina was right on her heels.

“Thank you for showing Mrs. Birmingham in,” Resa told her. More like blasted her way in.

Nina splayed her hands, stepped out and shut the door.

“Is Cheyenne with you?” The woman, a San Antonio blue blood, was positively irate.

And Resa wanted to bolt for the door herself.

“I was going to call you.” Colson’s tone attempted to soothe.

“How long will you be here? When can we see Cheyenne?”

“I’m the foreman at Resa’s ranch until Christmas Eve. We’ll set something up soon.”

Hyacinth’s fists clenched. “Almost all month. Why haven’t you called us?”

Oh dear. “Colson just arrived Sunday and it was all very last-minute,” Resa interjected. “I’m certain he’d love for you to see your granddaughter.”

Why was she defending him? Because she didn’t need this kind of drama in her store? Because she’d seen the evidence that he was a good father?

Both. But also probably because it was happening all over again—she was being drawn to him.

“Who’s watching her while you’re at work? What about school?”

“She’s with Annette and they’re staying brushed up on her preschooling, so she’ll be ready for kindergarten next year.”

“Of course.” Hyacinth looked toward the ceiling. “A woman she’s no blood relation to.”

Colson’s jaw tensed; his eyes turned steely. “Are you offering to preschool her?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

If only Resa could melt through the floor.

“Of course not. But she could stay with us. We keep a nanny on staff.”

“Absolutely not.” He swallowed hard. “I like having her near and she loves Annette, who’s actually a teacher.”

“Just wait until Nigel hears about this.” Hyacinth propped her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe you plan to keep Cheyenne away from us. How dare you—after you killed our daughter.”

Resa swung her gaze to Colson.

All color drained from his face.

* * *

“It’s not like that, Hyacinth. I can assure you.” Colson clenched his teeth. “I was just trying to get Cheyenne settled in. You know it’s hard for her to adjust to change.” And she’s scared of you. Actually, truth be told, he was, too.

“Well, having her grandparents near would lessen the change.” Her nose went higher in the air. Still snooty.

“Mimi. Let’s go already.” Hyacinth’s other granddaughter, Jasmine, now nine or so, flounced into the conference room. Hands on hips, tapping her Gucci-clad foot, she was the spitting image of her mother—Felicity’s sister, Lucinda—in looks and attitude.

“I’m sorry.” Nina rushed in. “She got away from me.”

“Jasmine.” Hyacinth glared at Nina. “I told you to stay with the nice lady.”

“It’s okay, Nina. Babysitting isn’t in your job description.” Resa smiled at her flustered employee, then turned to her customer. “I’m sorry, but my floor manager has work to do.”

Hyacinth tugged at the hem of her thousand-dollar jacket. “I didn’t have any choice other than to bring her. The nanny just up and quit. With no notice.”

Colson had a pretty good idea why. He slipped his phone from his pocket. “Jasmine can play a game on my cell while you and Resa talk furniture.”

“Puhlease. I’ve got my own phone.” The little girl crossed her arms and perched on the edge of the sofa, as if she didn’t plan to stay long.

He couldn’t risk alienating a wealthy client like Hyacinth by giving her rude grandchild a tongue-lashing. If she left the store unhappy, half of Texas would hear about it. Besides, he needed to stay in her good graces. Make her irate enough and she just might try to take Cheyenne from him. Especially if the truth got out.

“I’m excited about your desk and I’m glad you’re here.” Resa pulled out a chair. “I’ve got some ideas I wanted to run by you.”

“Maybe I should come back once I get a new nanny. Come along, Jasmine.” Hyacinth patted her immovable hair, tucked in a perfect chignon at the base of her neck. He’d made the mistake of calling it a bun once.

The little girl spewed out an exasperated sigh and flounced to the door.

“Call me, Colson.” Hyacinth pursed her lips. “We’ll expect a visit tonight.”

“Aren’t you taking Cheyenne to the Trail of Lights tonight?” Resa asked.

Huh? Was she giving him a reprieve?

“I was so busy with my parents’ renewal service, we missed the parade,” she added. “But the lights are on until New Year’s. Why don’t you join us, Hyacinth?”

Did she just throw him under the tractor?

“Oh, I don’t know.” His mother-in-law pinched the high-dollar fabric of her skirt. “Nigel and I don’t usually bother.”

“I’ll arrange a hayride for us. Bring Jasmine along.”

“Excuse me.” The girl rolled her eyes. “I’m too old for baby stuff.”

“Well, I’m not.” Resa shot the child a wink. “We’ll see you there, Hyacinth?”

The older woman’s mouth opened, closed, opened again.

At a loss for words. Something he’d never seen. He needed to take lessons from Resa on how to handle her.

“I’m bored, Mimi,” Jasmine whined.

“All right.” Hyacinth took her by the hand. “I guess we’ll see you tonight.”

“You can’t make me go,” the girl wailed as Hyacinth ushered her out.

When the door shut behind them, Colson blew out a big breath. “That’s why I haven’t called them. I don’t want Hyacinth turning Cheyenne into a snooty copy of herself.”

Or discovering the truth. “Felicity had her faults, but she was nothing like the other women in her family. They’ve seen Cheyenne exactly three times, and Hyacinth only clamored for more because she had an audience today. Cheyenne’s afraid of her.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “I kind of am, too.”

“Me, too.” Resa giggled. “But I don’t mind taking her money.”

Colson squeezed his eyes closed, tried to block out the image. “I didn’t kill Felicity.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“You’d be in jail if you did.”

“She was taking a horse I’d recently broken for a ride. We had an argument and she took off. The horse threw her.” Clear as the day it happened he could still see Felicity lying there, her neck at an odd angle. “I should have known the horse wasn’t safe.”

“You couldn’t have known. Horses are unpredictable. Not even you can read their minds.”

“I shouldn’t have argued with her. Not with her on the horse. I probably agitated him.”

Resa’s slim hand touched his arm. “It’s not your fault.”

He met her gaze. Her hand fell away. His guilt didn’t budge.

“Why did you give me the perfect excuse to avoid Hyacinth tonight and then insist she come along?”

“If you don’t arrange for Cheyenne to spend time with her, the woman might get ugly about it.”

True enough. She might take him to court. Which might lead to DNA testing. Which would prove he had no claim on Cheyenne.

“This way, your daughter will enjoy herself, even though Hyacinth will be there. I figured it was better than a one-on-one situation.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“So are you and Cheyenne coming?”

“We’re in.” It went against all his plans of keeping Cheyenne away from her biological family. But Resa obviously hadn’t caught on—even though Cheyenne was a miniature version of her. “We’ll meet you there.”

“See you around seven?”

“We’ll be there.”

“In the meantime, don’t you have a ranch to run?”

“The feed store.”

“Oh yes. Sorry.” Resa rolled up the blueprints, stashed them in a cardboard tube and tucked it under her arm. “I’m done here, so let’s just go there.”

He followed her out. He had to keep the Birminghams happy. And clueless. His gut did a sick twist. If they somehow learned the truth, Hyacinth would stop at nothing to get custody of Cheyenne. To let a nanny raise her. To add the child to her possessions.

Over his dead body.

But Resa couldn’t learn the truth, either. A delicate tightrope stretched taut underneath him. And the wire kept shifting under his feet.

* * *

Despite Colson, his dad and Annette surrounding her, Cheyenne had gone silent and withdrawn when she’d seen Hyacinth.

Resa absorbed all Colson’s tension. Cheyenne’s discomfort was her fault.

Hyacinth reluctantly sat on a hay bale and paid more attention to the damage the straws supposedly made in her pricey pantsuit than to her granddaughter. Jasmine had pulled a no-show. Probably a good thing. Resa’s friends Landry and Chase, along with his parents, made up the rest of the crew. Putting some space between Resa and Colson.

The ranch truck pulling the wagon rounded the corner and they got the first glimpse of the lights. Cheyenne audibly gasped and seemed to forget all about her grandmother.

Nigel Birmingham, just as down-to-earth as his wife was snooty, focused completely on his granddaughter. “There’s a cowboy boot bigger than would fit any cowboy I’ve ever known.” He was clearly intent on soothing her with his heartwarming, silly running commentary on each display.

The little girl giggled, obviously at ease with her grandfather.

“Except Big Tex. You ever been to the State Fair of Texas?”

Cheyenne’s eyes widened. “Daddy took me this year. Big Tex is really big and I was scared of him cause he talks. But Daddy says he’s just a big old statue with a recorded voice and they take him apart and put him in a truck once the fair is over.”

“I think somebody stole Big Tex’s boot. What do you think?”

She giggled again.

“Which one’s yours, Resa?” Nigel asked.

“The nativity.”

“Ah.” He grinned. “It’s nice.”

“Do you have one?”

The wagon hit a pothole, jostling them a bit.

“The angels overlooking the nativity.”

“We have a display?” Hyacinth whipped around to face her husband.

“For years. It doesn’t cost much. You can’t have a nativity without angels, and it makes people happy. You can’t put a price on that, dear.”

“You helped put up the lights, Poppy?” Cheyenne moved a bit closer.

“Nope. I just pay to have the angels put up every year. But there are lots of Christmas festivities to come. We could get in on Singing in the Saddle in a few weeks.”

“Really, Nigel, don’t encourage her.” Hyacinth scoffed.

“What’s Singing in the Saddle?” Cheyenne, her face aglow from the lights surrounding them, ignored her grandmother.

“It’s a trail ride of sorts with caroling. People ride horses or wagons around Bandera.”

“But I don’t want to ride a horse.”

“How about a wagon?” Resa patted the hay bale where she sat. “You can ride in this very wagon.”

“Can we go, Daddy? Can we?”

“We’ll see.”

“It wouldn’t be Christmas caroling without you.” Nigel sent Colson a hopeful smile. “But just in case, we can sing now.” Nigel started “Silent Night” off, his deep rich baritone echoing through the crisp air.

As voices joined, Landry elbowed Resa. “So why is the cowboy still here?”

Resa whispered the explanation.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s no big deal.”

“And the little girl is his?”

“He was married. But his wife died two years ago.”

“Hmm.”

“There’s no ‘hmm.’”

“So why did you invite him on the hayride if you don’t like him?”

“I invited Cheyenne on the hayride.” She whispered the whole thing about Hyacinth demanding a visit.

“And you care about this child because?”

“I don’t know.” Resa shrugged. “She’s just a little girl. Who lost her mother. And now she’s had to move away from everything she’s ever known because of me. The least I can do is ease her discomfort with Christmas lights.”

“Hmm.”

“You already said that. It’s temporary. They’ll only be here until my parents get back. And then they’ll move back to Kingsville.”

So why did that thought make her feel sad and lonely?


Chapter Five (#uf97e750b-66b2-5735-a2a5-a71411503cfc)

Colson pulled into the lit church parking lot and parked.

“Do we have to go here, Daddy?” The insecure little voice from the back seat tugged at his insides.

“God wants us to gather for worship and fellowship.” And maybe there would be kids her age to make friends with and help with her transition.

“I know. But it’s big and scary.”

“Church isn’t scary. You may not know the people here, but church folks are usually nice. Grandpa Mac and Nette will be here.” He closed his eyes. “And Resa.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.”

He got out, opened the back door and helped her down from her car seat, which she’d already unfastened. Hand in hand, they crossed the parking lot and slipped inside. Several people greeted them and he immediately felt welcomed, just as when he’d attended six years before. But none of the greeters had any children with them. And as each person spoke to them, Cheyenne withdrew more.

Resa was already here, flanked by Landry and Chase on one side, Annette and his dad on the other. She looked up when he took his seat beside Dad. Colson flashed her a smile. She waved as he settled Cheyenne in his lap. Thankfully, the pianist started up and the song director called out a page number.

The stained glass windows splashed multicolored prisms on the walls. Not much had changed. The hundred-year-old church was like a time capsule. If only it could comfort Cheyenne the way it did him.

Three songs later, all the kids and a few adults got up and headed for the back of the sanctuary. Except Cheyenne. Apparently they had classes on Wednesday night, but he knew she’d never go.

A kind-eyed lady stopped at their pew. “I’m Marilyn Whitlow.”

“I’m Colson Kincaid and this is Cheyenne.” Little arms wrapped around his neck.

“What a pretty name. You look just about the age to come to my class. We’ll read a story about Jesus, maybe do some coloring and sing some songs. Would you like to join us?”

Cheyenne buried her face in his chest.

“Maybe next time.”

“Of course.” Marilyn turned away.

“Is she gone?” The muffled question was warm against his heart.

“Yes. But she seemed really nice and you love to color. Wouldn’t you rather go have fun with kids than stay here with me?”

“Don’t make me go.”

“It’s okay. You can stay with me.” He rubbed her back.

“Can I sit in Resa’s lap?”

The breath went out of his lungs. “I’m not sure she’s up for that.” He sure wasn’t.

“Please.”

He leaned forward, looked around Dad and Annette.

Resa noticed him.

She wants to sit with you, he mouthed.

A smile took over her entire face and she nodded.

“She said yes.”

Cheyenne pulled away from him, taking a piece of his heart with her. She clambered down, over Dad’s and Annette’s feet, and Resa helped his child into her lap.

He didn’t breathe after that. And didn’t hear any of the lesson.

With Cheyenne so enamored with Resa, how would he resist her?

And more than that, how would he keep his secret?

* * *

Cheyenne’s slight weight got heavier as she drifted off. Resa could get way too attached. Especially since the shy little girl seemed drawn to her.

Deep down, she was glad Colson had come to Bible study this evening. She just wished he’d chosen another church. She wasn’t ready to forgive him.

She was stuck working with him until Christmas. Forced to count on him to keep her ranch running smoothly. But none of that trumped that he’d once broken her heart. And even though she understood his reasons now, she couldn’t allow herself to let her guard down around him. He wasn’t here to stay this time, either.

Colson. In her parents’ house. In her office. In her store. And now in her church. How had her life come to this?

Amens echoed around her and she raised her head. She hadn’t heard a word of the closing prayer. Or the study, for that matter. Why was he so...distracting?

“Let me take her.” He scooped Cheyenne out of her arms.

The brush of his fingers against her arm sent goose bumps over her.

Burden lifted, she stood and made her way to the aisle, as a hand clamped on her shoulder from behind.

“Resa.”

“Evening, Jed.” She turned and gave him a quick hug over the pew. “Remember to bring your wares soon. Open house is this weekend.”

“I appreciate you including me.”

“Are you kidding? Your stuff brings customers in.”

“Glad to hear it. Say, reckon you could come on over tonight? I’ve got two walking canes, three table lamps and half a dozen candlesticks. It would be easier on me if I didn’t have to load it all.”

“Of course. I didn’t even think about that.”

“Maybe the Kincaid boy could help,” Marilyn suggested. “Might get his little girl comfortable with me. Enough for her to come to my class next week.”

“I knew I married you for more than your beauty.” Jed winked at his wife.

“Colson,” Marilyn called as he neared the exit. “Could you help us out?”

“Sure.” He strolled toward them with Cheyenne still sleeping on his shoulder.

“Oh, I didn’t realize she was asleep. Never mind.” Marilyn stroked the little girl’s hair.

“I was just trying to wake her.” Colson’s narrowed gaze settled on Resa. “I don’t usually let her sleep through church. And if she naps this late, she won’t go to bed.”

And she was supposed to know that? “You remember Jed, don’t you? He probably visited the Bandera store back when you were training with your dad.”

“It’s been a while.” Colson clasped the hand Jed offered.

“I’ve got some carved items ready for delivery to Resa’s store.” Jed clapped him on the back. “We were wondering if you could follow us to the house and load up.”

“And I was hoping to get to know this little darling.” Marilyn smoothed her hand down the sleeping child’s back.

“I’d be happy to help.”

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. “Thank you, Colson. It’s settled then—you can follow Jed there.” And Resa would go straight home.

“But Jed has something he needs to show you.” Marilyn clasped her elbow.

“Now, Marilyn, I told you they’re not ready.”

“Oh, pooh.” Marilyn waved her husband’s protests aside with her hand. “I don’t know how they could get any more ready.”

“You’ve got something new?” Resa’s insides warmed. She’d known Jed since she was a kid. And had mourned with him when arthritis threatened his work.

“Wait till you see them.” Marilyn’s smile broadened. “He always second-guesses himself, but I’m trying to talk him into going on a bigger scale with these.”

“She don’t need to see. They’re not ready.”

“Please, Jed.” Resa’s voice blended with his wife’s.

“Aw, shucks.” He turned crimson. “I reckon. But if you don’t think they’re up to par, just say the word. Nothing amateur is going under the Rusticks name.”

“Oh, good.” Marilyn clapped her hands. “I’ve got a dessert I’ve been dying to thaw. That Mrs. Edwards sure can turn out a mean turtle pie.”

“I’m in.” Colson let out a low whistle.

“Y’all could ride together?” Jed suggested.

“No.” The protest ripped from Resa. “I mean—we’d just have to come back here and get my car. It’s easier if we both drive.”

“All righty then.”

She wanted to see Jed’s newest creation. Wanted to encourage his one-of-a-kind craftsmanship. But it was bad enough that Colson was coming, too. Bad enough that she had to share pie with him. No way would she share a ride with him, as well.

* * *

“How about we go see the chickens.” Marilyn offered her hand.

Though her eyes filled with wonder, Cheyenne clenched Colson’s fingers tighter.

“They can’t get out. They’re all safe in the coop,” he prompted. “I’ll be right here in Jed’s workshop.”

Her grip loosened, let go, then latched on to Marilyn.

Maybe the kind women of small-town Bandera were just what Cheyenne needed. Even though this broadening of her horizons was good for her, letting her go was hard on him. He refocused.

Smooth wood, perfect gloss, no imperfections. Colson opened the lid of the box. Black velvet-lined compartments. The smell of cedar filled the workshop.

“This doohickey comes out.” Jed lifted the top tray to reveal more compartments. “And there’s a card with my number, so they can order a silver plate with their name engraved on it.”

“For an extra charge?” Resa inspected the card.

“Nope. If they buy the box the engraving is free. I figure they’ll have to come back to the store to pick up the plate and maybe they’ll buy something else.” Jed carefully set the tray back in place. “Tell it to me straight. No two-steppin’ around it.”

“They’re beautiful.” Resa’s voice was filled with awe and appreciation.

“You think?” Pride warmed Jed’s smile.

“As beautiful as the one you gave me for graduation.”

“Wait, you’ve made these before?” Colson set the cedar jewelry box down among the others. “Do we carry them in the store?”

“It’s been a long time since I made any. Did one as a gift a few years back. Gave me a hankering to make some more.”

“The one you gave to Landry.” Resa’s eyes glistened. “I saw it. Such a sweet gesture and it meant the world to her.”

“She’s obviously biased.” Jed rubbed the back of his neck. “You sure they’re good enough quality, Colson? You’re not just trying to make an old man feel good?”

“You should feel good about these, Jed.”

“Can we show them at our open house?” Resa propped her hands in a steeple, a visual plea.

Jed inspected the row of boxes on the shelf in his workshop. “If you’re sure they’re ready.”

“They’re ready. I’d stake the reputation of Rusticks on them.”

“I reckon you’re doing that.”

She stood on tiptoe, kissed his grizzled cheek, which quickly turned scarlet.

“Let’s go have some pie.” Jed gestured them to the door.

“Where’s the chicken coop?” Colson trailed Resa as Jed turned the light off. Eager to retrieve his daughter, he stepped outside, searched the yard by the glow of Christmas lights lining the house. No sign of them.

“Looks like they already went inside.”

Cheyenne never warmed to anyone that fast.

Five strides and they stepped into the cozy kitchen, where Cheyenne sat beside Marilyn at a farmhouse table with log legs. Five saucers, each bearing a generous slice of pie, waited. A Christmas tree with multicolored blinking lights, decorated with small American Flags and ornaments in red, white and blue, captured Cheyenne’s attention almost more than the pie.

“I don’t think I want any pie made from turtles, Daddy.” She scrunched her nose.

“That’s just what they call it, darling.” Marilyn patted the small head. “It’s really made from yummy stuff.”

“I think you’ll really like it.” Colson settled on her other side.

Everyone placed their drink orders and Resa helped Marilyn serve.

Chocolate, caramel and whipped cream melted on his tongue, complemented by the crunch of pecans. The only thing better than the pie was seeing Cheyenne blossom. And having Resa seated beside him. Still clueless about his daughter’s parentage.

Cheyenne spooned a minuscule bite into her mouth and her eyes rounded. “You’re right, Ms. Marilyn, it is yummy.”

“I’m glad you like it. This is nice.” Marilyn sipped her coffee. “Having young folks around. Since our kids got grown and moved to the city, it’s just us old folks milling about most of the time.”

“They remind me of us, when we were dating.” Jed shot Resa a wink.

“We’re not dating.” Her voice quivered.

“You will be.” Jed set his cup down. “I can spot it. Called it with Landry and Chase. When I been knowing a young’un for so long, I can tell.”

“Stop it, Jed.” Marilyn rolled her eyes. “You’re making her turn the color of those plums.”

Colson resisted the urge to see how purple looked on her. Partly because his face felt just as warm.

“What’s dating?” Cheyenne popped another bite of pie in her mouth.

“I’ll explain later.” Colson focused on Jed. “How long have y’all known each other?”

“I was friends with her granddad. Knew yours, too.” Jed shot her a wink. “Known her since she was born.”

“Jed was the main crafter here at the Bandera store.” Resa scooped another bite of pie on her fork. “Before your dad.”

“Until the arthritis hit. I couldn’t keep up after that.”

“But Resa and her dad encouraged Jed to do what he could, keep crafting at his own pace.” Marilyn’s gaze, full of love and respect, rested on her husband. “They’ve sold a lot of Jed’s work through the years. And won’t even take a commission.”

Resa stayed focused on the table. “Jed put his hours in for us. Sold a lot of furniture for us. Just returning the favor.”

“I’m trying to talk him into building hope chests again.”

Resa’s gaze bounced up to Jed, her excited smile lighting a sparkle in her blue eyes. “You have to do it. I never got one.”

“I’ll make you a deal, young’un.” Jed shot her another wink. “You get married and I’ll make you one.” His scrutiny shifted to Colson.

Colson shoved the last bite of pie in his mouth, took a swig of coffee. “It’s getting late. We best be on our way.”

“Look what you’ve done with all your teasing, Jed.” Marilyn clucked her tongue. “You’ve run them off.”

Running scared. The last thing Colson needed to ponder on was marrying Resa. Because even though he didn’t trust women, and had vowed to never remarry, after a mere four days Resa was starting to look good to him all over again. In a permanent sort of way.

She pushed her plate away. “It’s probably getting close to Cheyenne’s bedtime and I’ve got an early morning trip to San Antonio tomorrow.”

“Do we have to go, Daddy?” Cheyenne yawned, despite sleeping through church.

“You can come back anytime.” Marilyn patted her hand.

But not with Resa. From now on Colson had to avoid her at all costs. Only work-related contact. Period. And unfortunately, there would be a lot of that over the next three weeks.

“Thanks for the pie, Marilyn.” Colson stood, pulled out Cheyenne’s chair and took her tiny hand in his.

“Maybe I’ll see you in my class next week.” Marilyn patted the little girl’s shoulder.

“Maybe.” Cheyenne blushed.

Resa hugged their hosts and Colson opened the door for her.

Thousands of stars and an almost full moon lit the sky as they stepped outside.

“What time is Juan’s surgery?”

Her eyes widened. “Eight. You remembered.”

“The reason I’m here.” How could he not remember? He’d come prepared to stay until Juan’s return. If her dad didn’t let him off the hook, his six-week calendar officially started ticking tomorrow. “I met a breeder from San Antonio at the sale barn yesterday. I have an appointment with him tomorrow to check out a bull, so I thought I’d see about Juan while I was there.”

“I get to go, too.” Cheyenne yawned again. “You should ride with us, Resa.”

“Oh. I don’t know.”

So much for avoiding her. “I guess it really doesn’t make much sense for both of us to make the drive. We could drop you at the hospital, then go meet the breeder, check on Juan, pick you up and head home.”

“But I want to stay until he’s out of surgery.”

“Not a problem. Cheyenne is always up for killing time at the zoo.”

“Please, Resa.”

He watched the softening of her eyes as Cheyenne melted her resistance.

“Okay. I guess I’ll see y’all in the morning.”

“Six thirty-ish? In case traffic is bad.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She got in her vehicle as he settled Cheyenne in her car seat in the back of his truck.

By the time he got on the road, she was asleep.

An hour’s drive with Resa in the morning. And another back home. At least he wouldn’t be hanging out at the hospital with her all day. He needed to figure out a way to teach Cheyenne not to invite her along in the future. Even though he’d taught her to be kind. He still had three weeks of navigating around Resa. And the time couldn’t pass fast enough.

* * *

How had he ended up at the zoo with Cheyenne—and Resa?

“I can’t believe they haven’t gotten Juan into surgery yet.” She checked her watch again. “It’s almost ten.”

“Must have been a serious emergency for the hospital to get off schedule so badly. I can take you back. You didn’t have to come with us.”

“Yes, I most certainly did.” She smiled down at Cheyenne between them, her hands in each of theirs, fascinated by the alligators and crocodiles. “She asked me. But what about the bull?”

“If I buy him, I have no desire to keep a bull kicking around in the trailer for any longer than I have to. I told Mr. Mendez I’d call him once Juan went into surgery. That way, by the time he gets out, I’ll be back to get you. Bull or no bull.”





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