A Cowgirl's Christmas (23 page)

To their right on the long end of the sofa were the twins, Portia and Wren. They looked so grown up, now. Only a few years ago, they, like Savannah, would have been begging their mother for permission to have more chocolate. But they were much too mature for that now, instead both preferring a small glass of the port that had been served with dessert. Beside Portia sat Nat, and next to him, Mattie, her left hand resting on Nat’s shoulder, the gold band on her fourth finger looking like it had been there forever.

So far Nat’s disease remained in remission, and they were enjoying life to the fullest.

On the other side of the room, sitting in Dad’s old chair, was Dani, pregnant again, this time with Eliot’s child. They’d been married this summer, a small, lovely ceremony at Eliot’s family’s cottage on the Hood Canal. Baby Bev wasn’t walking yet, but she could crawl like nobody’s business, and Eliot had his hands full keeping her from yanking down the ornaments from the Christmas tree.

“So what’s the surprise, Eliza?” Dani asked. She had her hands on her small belly, looking like she wished she could take back that decision to have a second piece of pumpkin pie.

Eliza opened the box Marshall had set next to the tree and began handing out rectangular shaped gifts wrapped in red paper with gold bows. She gave one to great aunt Mabel first, and then the Carrigan sisters: Mattie, Dani, Sage and Callan. As soon as she felt hers, Callan knew it was a book.

She ripped aside the paper eagerly, and there it was. Eliza had completed the Brambles of Marietta, A Family History.

“I hope you’ll all like it,” Eliza said nervously. “I was honest about your mother, but I didn’t mention any of the Sheenans by name. I hope that’s okay.”

“We’re good with the truth, Eliza,” Mattie reassured her. “Thank you so much for this. It will help all of us remember who we are and where we came from.”

“Plus, with all the recipes at the back,” Sage teased, “Maybe next year Callan can do the cooking for Christmas dinner.”

“Dream on,” Callan deflected the joke with a wave of her hand. She was looking forward to reading the family history, but she already knew everything that mattered. It had taken six months for her to gather the courage to read her mother’s diaries.

The frank account of Beverly Carrigan’s struggle to deal with Hawksley’s small cruelties had broken her heart. But her mother had also been honest enough to admit that some of the marital problems had been caused by her own distaste for ranching life and her affair with Bill Sheenan.

In the end, her mother’s tragically shortened life had been filled with joys as well as sorrows and the choices she’d made were the very reason they were all gathered in this room, tonight.

As for Hawksley, whether he had truly loved his daughters or not, the important thing, Callan had decided, was that she had loved him.

Maybe for the next generation of Carrigans life would be easier. All Callan knew for sure was that they were headed in the right direction.

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THE END

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If you enjoyed this story, you will also love these other books

by C.J. Carmichael:

Hawksley Carrigan, owner of the Circle C Ranch south of Marietta, Montana, always wanted a son to carry on the family name. Unfortunately for him,

he ended up with four daughters.

Book 1: Promise Me, Cowboy

Sage Carrigan’s story – buy it now!

Book 2: Good Together

Mattie Carrigan’s story – buy it now!

Book 3: Close to Her Heart

Dani Carrigan’s story  - buy it now!

Book 4: Snowbound in Montana

Eliza Bramble’s story - buy it now!

Book 5: A Cowgirl’s Christmas

Callan Carrigan’s story

An Excerpt from

Promise Me, Cowboy

By C. J. Carmichael

Copyright © 2013

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A
lot of people believe you can’t keep a secret in a small town, but that simply wasn’t true. Sage Carrigan was only twenty-nine years old and already she had two that would blow the minds of her sisters and her father and the girlfriends who thought they knew every little thing about her.

And one of those secrets was just now stepping into her chocolate shop.

Sage stepped behind the counter, needing something solid to lean on. It was really him, Dawson O’Dell, her biggest secret, her biggest mistake... her biggest weakness.

Right now O’Dell was one of the top ranked cowboys in professional rodeo. She’d met him back in her barrel-racing days, but five years hadn’t changed him much. He still dressed like the bronc-rider he was, in Wrangler jeans and dusty boots, western shirt unbuttoned to the white T shirt beneath. His dark blonde hair was a little too long, and his green eyes a little too astute.

The second his eyes met hers she knew this was no chance encounter.

“Sage.”

He walked right up to the counter and gave her a look that made her instantly remember all the things she had once found so irresistible about this man.

“It’s been a long time,” he added.

He looked at her as if he knew her inside and out. Which he did. Or at least
he had.
Then his gaze swept the shop, the shelves of attractively packaged chocolate. However you liked it, she had it. Dark chocolate covering silky mint creams, milk chocolate over salt-flecked toffee, chocolate shavings and chocolate mixed with nuts. Bars of dark, milk or white chocolate. Chocolate in the shape of horses, cowboy boots...or the letters from A to Z. And more.

“Quite a departure from barrel-racing.”

“That was kind of the point.” Finally she’d found her voice. And now that the shock of seeing him was settling down, anger began seeping into its place. “If you’re here to buy something—please do it quickly. Otherwise, it would be best if you just left.” She looked pointedly at the door, hoping she’d kept the nerves out of her voice.

He rubbed the side of his face, using his left hand. No wedding ring, she noticed. But then there hadn’t been last time, either.

He gave her a lopsided smile. “Sounds like you’re still a little angry
.”

“I’m not angry, O’Dell. Just really not interested in seeing you. Or talking to you. Or even breathing the same air as you.”

His eyebrows went up. “That’s harsh.”

Obviously not harsh enough because he didn’t leave. Instead he wandered to the display of chocolate letters and selected an “S.”

For Sage?

“ I owe you an apology,” he allowed.

“Five years ago you owed me an apology. Now, you just need to walk out that door and let me go on pretending I never met you.”

He sighed like she was the dolt in the classroom who just didn’t
get it.
“I did
try
to apologize. But you left town mighty fast.”

Less than twenty-four hours after she crashed on that second barrel, her father had shown up in Casper, Wyoming and had whisked her home. But there
had
been time for Dawson to reach her. If he’d wanted to.

That had been the last rodeo she’d ever competed in. And it had been the last time she’d let herself get tangled up with a cowboy, too.

“Sage, even if it is a little late, I still want to say it. I was sorry then, and I’m sorry now.”

Damn, if he didn’t look sincere. But she hardened her heart. Facts were facts and how sorry could he be if he’d waited so long to find her?

Keeping her tone artificially sweet, she asked, “What exactly are you sorry for? Would that be for sleeping with me even though you were married?”

He winced.

“Or for your wife catching me butt naked in your bed and then pointing a rifle in my face?”

His gaze dropped to the counter and he swallowed hard. The words—she’d never spoken them aloud before—hung out there, embarrassing, and true, damn it. All too true.

“Sure sounds bad, when you put it like that.”

“They are the plain and simple facts Now, may I point you in the direction of the door one more time?” She glanced out the window, seeing scores of shoppers out on the street.
Would one of you please come in and buy some chocolate? Save me from having to say anything more to this guy?

“I’ll be on my way soon,” he promised. “Let me pay for this first.” He put the “S” on the counter. He’d chosen milk chocolate. She preferred dark.

“That’ll be ten dollars.”

His eyebrows went up. “That’s a lot of money for one piece of chocolate.”

“It’s premium quality. Made from scratch in-house. I buy the beans myself, directly from Venezuela. But if you want to put it back, go right ahead.”

“No, no, I’ll take it.” He pulled out his wallet and counted out a five and some ones.

“For someone special?” she couldn’t resist asking, after placing the confection in a cute paper bag and tying the handles with some copper ribbon. “Susan, maybe? Sandra? Sonya?”

“Savannah, actually.”

She was such a fool for thinking, for even a second, that he’d selected it for her. “Here you go.”

As she handed him the bag, she noticed him checking out her fingers. Oh my God, was he looking to see if she was married, too?  What about this Savannah girl? The man was incorrigible.

And lucky. She couldn’t believe they hadn’t been interrupted by another customer during all this time.

“O’Dell?” He was looking at her like she was a toy in a catalogue that he couldn’t afford. “Shouldn’t you be leaving now?”

“Yup. Just wanted to say, it was nice to see you, Sage. You’re even prettier than I remembered.”

She couldn’t help softening at those words, and the sincere look in his eyes as he said them. But then she remembered how she’d felt staring down the barrel of that shotgun, and her resolve was back, stronger than ever. “Goodbye, O’Dell.”

On his way out the door, he turned over the “Open” sign in the window.

Had he... ?

He gave her a wink and another one of his killer smiles. “Didn’t want anyone walking in on us, did I?”

Damn it, he had.

But she still managed to get the last word. “You mean like last time?”

Promise Me, Cowboy

Buy now!