A Cowgirl's Christmas (22 page)

“I—I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t have the same feelings for me that I have for you. I fell for you almost the first moment I saw you. It was like my father said. I just knew.”

She stared at him, unable to believe he was saying these words when just this afternoon he’d turned her away.

“I care too much about you, Callan, to take away the home that you love.”

“But—it’s what Dad wanted. To right the wrong that was done to your grandmother so many years ago.”

“I used to think it mattered what Hawksley wanted. But he’s dead. And what he put in his will—it isn’t fair and it isn’t right.”

She herself had felt that way at first. But she’d never expected Court to see things this way.

“I really enjoy working here, Callan. It’s what I feel I was born to do. But I didn’t grow up on this land. I don’t know every coulee and every rise the way you do. I don’t love the animals with the same intensity. Or have all my childhood memories wrapped up in every room, every building. I’ve seen how much you care. And I want you to have it back.”

With that Court pulled an envelope from his pocket and gave it to her.

“I went to see Ren Fletcher today. I asked him to draw up papers that would turn over my interest in the Circle C to you.”

She stared at the envelope in her hands. Just a few ounces of paper. But the papers inside had the power to restore her life to the way it had been before her father died. The Circle C would be hers. She could live here until the day she died, if she chose.

But—what had Court meant when he said he loved her? Had he really meant it?

“Where will you go?”

“Not sure. Maybe back to St. Paul. My parents are there. My old job. Or I could see if I could find a spot at a ranch someplace. Start at the bottom. Work my way up.”

“You’re giving up too much.” She handed him the envelope. “I can’t accept.”

Gently, he pressed it back to her. “It isn’t the Circle C I really want, Callan. If it was, trust me, I’d take it.”

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C
allan was still in shock thirty minutes later, when her sisters came into the study to check on her.

“Was that Court McAllister who dropped by a while ago?” Dani asked. “Why didn’t you invite him in for a drink?”

Wordlessly, Callan handed her the envelope. Dani slid out the papers, read them carefully, then shook her head. “He’s giving the Circle C to Callan.”

“What?” Mattie grabbed the papers. “Let me see. I don’t believe it.”

Sage sat down on the window seat next to Callan. Gently Sage took her sister’s hands. “Something has happened between you and Court, hasn’t it?”

“I don’t know. I mean, yes. He told me he loved me. But I never led him on. I’ve been incredibly rude to him, actually. And so terribly angry.”

“Of course you were.” Mattie settled in the chair Court had used earlier. “Anyone in your shoes would be. I feel angry on your behalf.”

“But it wasn’t really Court you were mad at, was it?” Dani asked, pulling an old armchair up to the window. “It was Hawksley.”

“Yes. I was angry at Dad. I always thought, under all his hard ways and gruff words, he really loved us. Loved me.”

“Oh, Callan,” Dani said. “You were so young when Mom died. You transferred all your need for parental approval to Dad. And you tried so hard to be tough so you could earn his love. But he’s gone now. And honey, you don’t have to be tough anymore. You can just be Callan.”

Tears were streaming down Callan’s face again. What a crazy day. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d cried, let alone this much.

“I’m not sure I even know who I am, anymore,” she confessed.

“That’s not true,” Mattie said. “I’ve never known anyone who was more true to herself than you are. It’s that feeling in your gut. The one that tells you one thing is right and another is wrong. That this is important, and something else is not.”

“Mattie’s right,” Sage said. “You’re the youngest but in many ways you’ve also been our leader. You’re the touchstone, our compass, the one who leads us home.”

“So, you’re saying I should trust my feelings...?”

“Yes,” said Mattie and Sage, over top of each other.

“Maybe not,” said Dani. “In most things, yes. But I have a hunch that you may have let your anger and hurt over dad and the will get in the way of your relationship with Court.”

Callan hesitated, not sure if she wanted to open her relationship with Court up for discussion. But her sisters had been pretty helpful so far. “Why do you say that?”

“Because there has to be some reason you didn’t start dancing and singing when Court gave you that envelope,” Dani said. “Think about it.”

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C
allan thought about it, long and hard. How was she going to feel once all her family was gone and she was alone on the Circle C again? Would the ranch—complete with Red and the guys and all the animals—provide the solace, the meaning and the companionship she required? She tried to picture Court driving away—and never seeing him again.

Then she tried a different scenario. One where Court was at her side. Where they worked and played and loved together.

Suddenly the picture was full of color and life. It even came with a soundtrack. Country music, of course.

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I
t was almost midnight when Court heard a knock at his front door. He set down his glass of bourbon and got up from the arm chair. The birch logs in the fireplace snapped and crackled as he made his way to the door. And his heart beat faster because he could imagine only one visitor at this time of night.

And it was her.

Callan wore her red down vest over her plaid shirt. Snowflakes dusted her glossy, dark hair. She was carrying a flashlight. And the envelope.

What could this mean? Was he foolish to hope?

“Come in. I’ll pour you a drink.”

She pulled off her boots, revealing red and green striped socks. “No thanks. I just want to talk.”

She seemed unsure of herself, which was something he’d never imagined Callan ever feeling. “Want to sit by the fire?”

“That sounds nice.”

She settled on one side of the sofa, twisted to face the fireplace. He added an extra log, then closed the screen and turned back to face her.

He’d laid his heart open to her. Never had he felt more vulnerable. But never more sure he’d done the right thing, either. If she was here to give him a pretty thank-you and go on her way, he’d just have to take the pain and deal with it later.

“Would you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

Wordlessly he settled on the other side of the sofa, his back to the fire, so he could see her.

“I’m a little bit...emotional today. I want to make sure I understood you correctly.” She cleared her throat, glanced down at the envelope, then back to him. “Did you just tell me that my happiness was more important to you than owning the Circle C?”

He hesitated, reaffirming for himself the truth of the words. “I did.”

“Well then. This won’t work.” She held out the envelope.

“I don’t understand.”

To his astonishment, she rose and went to the fire. First she pushed aside the wire screen, then tossed the envelope inside. The edges went brown and began to curl. The flames devoured the paper greedily. Within seconds the envelope was nothing but ashes.

“But—why did you do that?”

“It won’t make me happy if I get the ranch and you leave. I need to have both, Court. You
and
the Circle C.”

He almost didn’t believe her. But Callan always shot straight from the hip. “You actually mean that?” He went to her. Circled his arms around her waist. Her eyes shone up at him, the love naked within.

In that instant, as his heart flared with happiness, he had his first hint of what it would be like to be loved by this woman. She would be fierce, loyal and true. And he would never, ever, let her down.

“I love you, Callan.” And then he kissed her.

The heat between them built quickly, just as it had earlier, in the barn. This time, though, there would be no stopping. No turning back.

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C
hristmas dinner, a year later

“Well, that was a tasty meal,” great aunt Mabel announced. “Thank you Callan and Court for your hospitality.”

“The least we could do was supply the hospitality,” Callan said. “Since we didn’t do any of the cooking.” Her sisters had prepared all the side dishes and desserts, thank heavens. She couldn’t imagine hosting a holiday without them.

“Excuse me,” Court said, in mock affront. “Are you forgetting who hauled that thirty-pound bruiser in and out of the oven?”

“I’m glad you did, because it was delicious. But I couldn’t eat another bite. I really mean it. Not even one of Sage’s chocolates.” Marshall McKenzie got up from the table, and started to clear away dishes.

Marshall was cousin Eliza’s rugged, outdoor adventuring new husband. They’d met last Christmas on a Nordic ski trip that had turned into a snowbound adventure. They’d been inseparable ever since and had finally tied the knot in a small ceremony at Bramble House two months ago.

“Leave the dishes, please,” Callan said. “Eliza wants us to gather in the family room. She said something about a special Christmas surprise.”

“But we’ve already opened our gifts,” Savannah said, clearly nursing a hope that there might be one or two more left under the tree.

“I think this is something for the grown-ups,” Dawson warned her. He’d eaten dinner with one hand, since his other was monopolized by his seven-month old son. “But you can have another Christmas chocolate if you want. I saw a tray of them in there.”

“Can I have one for Braden, too?” This was a new trick of Savannah’s, something she’d started after the birth of her brother.

Sage laughed. “Why not. Before you know it Braden’s going to be big enough to eat his own treats.”

In the family room, Court settled great aunt Mabel in the hard-backed chair she preferred, before going to sit with Callan on the stone ledge that ran the length of the fireplace. Callan entwined her fingers with his, giving him a smile that she hoped showed him how much she appreciated all he’d done to help the holidays pass so smoothly. Last year she’d been so miserable over the holidays. Yet everything had turned around for her,when she’d opened herself up to the love Court had offered.

Their small wedding had been perfect. They’d had it at the Circle C—which was now legally owned by the both of them—and best of all, Court’s mother had been able to dance a foxtrot with both her husband and Court at the celebration afterward.

Court was the best possible partner for her, in every sense of the world. Under his management style—so different from her father’s—the Circle C was thriving, not just financially, but in other ways, too. Court was fair and kind, as well as strong and smart. He made Red and the other men feel like valued members of the team.

And with her, he was a passionate and giving lover. Maybe one day they’d have children, but for now, her heart was completely full with love for this man and the life they were building together.

Across from them, settled on the short end of the sectional sofa, sat Sage and Dawson, still holding the baby, while Savannah crouched next to the coffee table to contemplate her chocolate selection.