Colton's Christmas Baby (12 page)

All Honey Creek's shops and businesses closed early, and a great feeling of festivity filled the air. Outside, the men tended to the huge smokers, ensuring that the meat was cooked, while inside the arena the women set out tray after tray of cooked dressing, sweet-potato casserole, green beans and rolls.

As the celebration approached, most of the ranch hands were given a break from their daily chores. Working abbreviated three-hour shifts, they rode out in groups of three or four to check on the herd and the fence, and spent the rest of their time engaged in friendly poker games under Darius's radar.

Since the ranch hands had begun to treat him like one of their own, Damien tried to participate in the games. He wanted to relish the experience, so fresh and new after years of confinement, but although he'd honed his poker skills during the years in prison, he couldn't concentrate. He could think of nothing but Eve, her beautiful bright-blue eyes gazing so expectantly at him, her full lips curving in a smile. When they were last together, they couldn't stop touching each other.

He couldn't help but wonder if they'd sit together, which would mean she'd have to sit at the head table with the rest of his family. Her sister Susan would be there with Duke, as would his Wes's and Duke's fiancées. Of course, if Eve sat by his side, that would be akin to making a public statement, something they hadn't really discussed.

The other alternative, which he liked better, would be to sit with her among her family. Same statement, but less visible.

Or, he reflected glumly, they could sit separately, which would be the most sensible option if they didn't want gossip.
He didn't really care if people talked about him, but Eve was a different matter. He'd do what he had to do to protect her even if he didn't like it.

 

Eve arrived at the Colton Ranch an hour early, hoping to catch Damien alone, but as she waited in a long line of cars on the road leading to the ranch, she realized several others had chosen to come early as well.

Teenagers were hard at work directing cars to one of the two pastures designated for parking. After Eve pulled into her slot, she checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her new green sweater looked good with her blond hair and she'd tucked her jeans into a pair of furry boots.

One hand on the car door, she swallowed. Oddly enough, she felt nervous. Though she and Damien had been getting together nearly every single night, she wasn't sure how to act here at his home with the entire town watching.

Would they sit together? The entire Colton clan usually held court at a long, raised table in the front of the crowd. Her sister Susan would be up there this year, next to her fiancé, Duke Colton, as would Lily Masterson with Wes, and Rachel Grant with Finn, and the other Colton children, Joan, Brand and Perry. If Damien asked Eve to sit there, it would mark her as of special significance, something she wasn't sure she was ready or willing to accept.

No complications,
she reminded herself. Damien understood that as well. All would be good. Still, that didn't stop her from wiping sweaty palms down the front of her jeans as she walked up to the barn.

Inside, townspeople milled around, gathering in small groups to talk. Some were claiming their seats, saving places for their friends and family. The only Colton she saw was Sharon, busy directing a small army in the placement
of the large trays of food with their accompanying warmer candles.

Moving off into a corner, Eve pulled out her phone and sent him a text.
I'm here. Where are you?

Look behind you,
came back.

Slowly she turned. He stood in the entrance, alone, watching her. Her heart leapt into her throat and she had to forcibly restrain herself to keep from running into his arms.

Keeping her expression as casual as possible, she strolled over to him. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, yourself.” His velvet-brown gaze searched her face. “Want to sit together?”

Eve froze. “Up at your family's table?” she squeaked. “I don't…”

“We don't have to.” He touched her arm, his fingers gentle. “If you don't want to sit up there, we can sit somewhere else.”

For the first time she considered what this meant to him, that he was willing to give this up. For the first time in fifteen years, he had the right to sit with his siblings and his father at the family table. Eat with them, be with them, celebrate the holiday with those closest to him. And he wanted to give this up to be with her?

Part horrified, part humbled, she looked away. Her clan, with all her brothers and sisters and their spouses, as well as extended family, usually took up two entire tables. This time, her sister Susan would be eating up front with Wes. This was to be expected, since the two were engaged to be married.

But if Eve were to sit with Damien, people would assume…

When she dragged her gaze back to him, she saw an impassive cowboy, trying hard to pretend not to care. She
knew this man and, as much as she might try to deny it, she cared about him. As a friend and…more. The realization both terrified and exhilarated her.

“I'll sit up front with you,” she said, impulsively deciding. “It's time I stopped worrying so much about what people think.”

Pure joy flashed across his face, so quickly she might have imagined it. He gave a slow nod, then took her hand, threading his large, calloused fingers through hers. Giving her a mischievous grin, he led her toward the front of the huge indoor arena.

“Let's really give them something to talk about,” he said. Then he kissed her.

Time both stood still and rushed forward. For the space of several heartbeats she couldn't move, couldn't react, then the heat of his mouth moving across hers seared her, bringing her to life.

“Ahem.” Someone cleared a throat behind them, yanking Eve right back to her surroundings. Face flaming, she pushed away and looked up, straight into her mother's curious face.

“Bonnie Gene.” Damien stepped forward. “Sorry about that. Eve looks so pretty, I just had to kiss her.”

If the ground could have opened up and swallowed her, Eve would have taken a nose dive for it. “Hi, Mom.”

Ignoring Eve, her mother looked Damien up and down. “Staking a claim?” she asked, eyes twinkling.

He gave her a wicked grin. “Maybe I am.”

She nodded. “Good.” Without another word, she turned and walked away.

Shocked, Eve stared after her. “What the heck was that about?”

His grin widened, inviting her to join in. “I think your mother just gave me her stamp of approval.”

Shaking her head, Eve began to move forward, not touching him this time. “Let's go find our seats.”

“Regretting your decision?” he asked, his voice suddenly serious. “Because if you are…”

“You'll let me go back and sit with my mother? How fun would that be now?”

“No. I was going to say that I'm not letting you out of it.” He took her arm, ignoring her resistance. “Sweetheart, if you're going to do something, you might as well do it up right.”

With that, he led her up to the front. As she took her seat next to him at the long table, she felt a bit like royalty of olden times. Banishing the feeling, she smiled at Finn and Rachel, just arriving.

Damien got up to talk to Finn, and Eve took the time alone to calm herself. She'd never been a coward and hated that she felt so nervous now. It wasn't as though she and Damien actually were an item.

The room began to fill up as more and more townspeople arrived. Sharon Colton, still busy making sure the serving lines were set up correctly, would be one of the very last to take her seat. Her husband, Darius, would, as usual, make a grand entrance and once he made it to the front, he'd tap on his wineglass to get everyone's attention. Only when the room became completely and utterly silent, would he announce it was time to eat.

After that, pandemonium would reign.

“What are you doing here?” Her sister, Susan, appeared behind Eve, eyes wide. “I saw you sitting up here all by yourself and thought I'd better rescue you. Mom and the rest of the clan are at our usual table,” she hinted.

Fidgeting, Eve felt like a little kid. “I'm here with Damien.” There. She'd said it.

Smile faltering, Susan did a double take. “With Damien? Colton? Are you sure?”

Just then Damien came up behind them. Putting his hand possessively on Eve's shoulder, he smiled. “Hi, Susan. Where's Duke?”

“He, uh, went to see if Jeremy needed any help parking the cars.” She darted a look from Damien to Eve and back again. “Eve says you're here together?” Voice rising on the last word, she made this sound like they'd just announced they were submitting to bizarre experimental drug testing in the Yucatan.

Glancing from one sister to the other, Damien frowned. Only the quirk at one corner of his mouth told Eve he was trying not to crack up. “Yes, we're together. Why? Do you have a problem with that?”

Susan immediately began backtracking. “Er, no. It's just that I didn't know Eve was seeing anyone. And I don't think Duke even knows you're dating Eve.” She began looking around wildly, trying to find her fiancé. “We need to bring him over here and fill him in, don't you think?”

Trying to keep from laughing was a battle and Eve finally lost it. “Susan,” she managed between chortles, “relax. Damien and I are just good friends.”

Before anyone could say another word, the rest of the Coltons hurried to their places. A commotion at the entrance to the arena let everyone know that Darius was preparing to make his grand entrance.

And, exactly as he'd done every other year, he did. Moving up the center aisle, shaking hands on one side and then the other, and basking in the adulation as if he were a rock star. Completely used to this, Eve sat back and watched, amused. Beside her, she felt Damien's sudden tension and remembered he'd been in prison for the last fifteen years. The entire production, with its familiar
ceremony and almost ritualistic feel, would seem strange to him.

She wondered what he'd done while in prison. Thinking this made her realize how little he talked about his experiences there. Maybe because the memories were too painful.

Then Darius climbed the steps to the platform and the Colton family table. As he made his way to his seat in the center, his gaze locked on Eve, and the hard look in his eyes wasn't the least bit friendly. In fact, he looked downright dangerous.

L
uckily, Sharon Colton bustled up to the table next, drawing Darius's gaze away from Eve. Troubled, Eve looked down at her plate, wondering if she'd imagined the disturbing malice in the look the Colton patriarch had given her. Surely she must have. After all, what reason would the head of the Colton family have to dislike her? If it was because she was a Kelley, she'd think her sister Susan would draw more of his ire—especially since Susan was actually marrying his son Duke. Eve was merely Damien's guest.

Darius intoned the traditional blessing, finishing as he always did, with a request to form lines at the buffet. When he turned to take his seat, his gaze drifted impersonally over his collective family, before narrowing on Eve.

Again, she felt the force of his glare. Telling herself it was due to an overactive imagination didn't help—not when the man kept shooting her venom-filled looks. Resolving to ask Damien later, Eve decided to let it go for now.

Next to her, Damien talked with his twin brother, Duke, her own sister's fiancé. Eve forced herself to relax, leaning back in her chair and watching as the crowd surged to form lines near the self-serve buffet tables. A veritable army of servers stood by, carving meat and constantly refilling trays of food, making sure everything was hot.

The Coltons, as hosts of the banquet, had the right to go to the head of either line whenever they wanted. Maisie and Jeremy went first, followed by Finn and Rachel and Wes and Lily. Duke and Susan, contentedly holding hands, waited a few minutes longer until the first group came back with their plates.

“Are you coming?” Duke asked Damien, giving Eve a friendly smile.

“In a minute,” Damien answered, his voice tense. With a nod, Duke moved off, one arm around Susan.

“What's wrong?” Eve murmured, wondering if Damien, too, had noticed his father's odd behavior.

“Nothing.” He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. “Are you ready?” Though he asked the question in a light voice, Damien touched her arm, as if giving her a warning.

Dubious, she glanced around him to where Darius and Sharon still stood, like benevolent rulers surveying their kingdom. As ashamed as she would be to admit it out loud, she was afraid if she moved that she'd once again draw Darius's cold stare.

“I'm not sure,” she admitted with a slight grimace. “Shouldn't your father and stepmother go first?”

Glancing at him, she saw him eyeing his father, who now had started once again to glower in their direction.

“What's the matter with him?” she asked. “Is he mad about me being here?”

“Who knows?” His attempt to sound unconcerned fell flat, especially since he tightened his arm around her. “He's
been acting kind of weird lately. It's probably best if we ignore it. Do you want to eat?”

She nodded, getting slowly to her feet at the same time as Damien. Trying to avoid glancing out into the crowd, she still felt as if she had a hundred pairs of eyes on her, many of them mirroring the disapproval she'd seen in Darius's. No doubt the gossip had already started.

She told herself she didn't care, reminding herself she'd better get used to being an object of scandal. The speculation and rumors would start to swirl in earnest once people realized she was pregnant. And when she refused to reveal the father or the circumstances concerning her pregnancy, the rumors would become outrageous. At some point she expected to be asked if her baby had been fathered by aliens. No lie.

As Damien turned to help lead the way down, a shadow fell over the table. After pushing her chair back in, Eve looked up. Darius had stepped in front of them, back to the crowd, completely blocking their way down.

“Son, aren't you going to introduce your little friend?” Darius asked, tone dripping venom.

Wary, Eve instinctively moved closer to Damien as he performed a quick introduction.

“Pleased to meet you,” Darius said, sounding anything but. Giving her hand a quick squeeze, the older man quickly released it, returning his attention to his son.

“Well, well, well. I wasn't aware you were this serious,” Darius smirked. “Good for me, bad for you.”

Though his words made no sense, Damien's sudden tense grip on her arm told Eve that he at least understood what his father meant by the odd statement.

“Don't even go there,” Damien warned. “This isn't about her.”

“You keep your nose out of my business, and I'll keep
mine out of yours.” Suddenly affable, Darius held out his hand. “Deal?”

Stone-faced, Damien made no move to accept his father's offer.

As the silence stretched out, Darius's smile faded. Finally, he lowered his arm, his expression going hard again. “I should have known. So that's the way it's going to be?”

“Excuse us,” Damien said firmly, steering Eve around his father. “We're going to go eat.”

Darius stepped aside without a word.

On the way down, they passed the others returning. Even though Damien stood protectively close, Eve swore she could still feel Darius's rancor-filled gaze burning into her back.

“What was that all about?” she asked softly as they made their way toward the buffet table.

“I'll tell you later.” Squeezing her arm in a too-hard gesture that he'd no doubt meant to be reassuring, he gave her a smile tinged with anger.

Filling her plate with the piping-hot food, Eve tried and failed to recapture her earlier contentment. The look in Damien's father's eyes had been tinged with madness, a very real, almost feral look that seemed as dangerous as an actual physical threat.

No one else appeared to have noticed a thing. Following Damien's lead, she smiled and chatted with several people in the serving line, ignoring the question in many of their gazes. None of them were quite bold enough to ask her outright why she was sitting with the Coltons, but she knew that would wear off by Tuesday. In fact, she anticipated twice the amount of traffic in her hair salon, with women stopping by just to “visit.”

Plates filled, she and Damien made their way back to
their seats. Throughout the entire meal, despite the friendly overtures made by Damien's brothers, she couldn't help but feel conscious of Darius's hostile glare, especially since he sent it her way every time she looked toward him.

When they'd finished eating, pastors of the various churches announced the date, time and meeting location for each of their annual Christmas carol sings. The Coltons' church traditionally had theirs Christmas Eve, with caroling that afternoon, before the holiday service.

Sitting at the front table was a completely different experience for Eve. Her family's table, situated in the thick of things, usually ended up empty as various family members socialized with their friends and neighbors. Once everyone had eaten, they roamed, standing in small clusters and talking, before moving on to the next group.

The Coltons were different. As if they were forbidden to leave, not a single one of them left their seats. Instead, everyone came to them, swarming the table like bees to a hive. Bemused, Eve caught her sister's eye. Susan shrugged and went back to looking for her friends so she could wave them over.

Meanwhile, the food was cleared and trays of desserts brought in. Pumpkin, pecan and apple pies, and there had to be at least ten cakes, most baked by the attendees. When all had been set out, along with coffee, many people went for the sweets while others continued to visit.

All in all, Eve thought, a pleasant way to spend an afternoon. In the past, this particular event had been the galvanizing event to give her a dose of the holiday spirit.

This year should have been no different, but as she glanced uneasily at Darius, holding court over his cronies, she realized it had been. If it weren't for Damien, she would have scurried back to her own family like a chastened mouse. Instead, she sat calmly, viewing a group of six
dowagers from her mother's quilting club who were bearing down on her. The glint in their eyes promised she was in for the kind of grilling only a true gossip hound can produce.

As if he saw them coming, Damien put his arm around her and joined her in facing them. This didn't slow them one bit in their determined progress and Eve steeled herself for the questions.

To her surprise, just as they approached the table, Sharon Colton stepped in front of them, asking them something about the Christmas-caroling committee.

“Divertive missile launched,” Damien muttered dryly. “You are so lucky.”

Watching as Sharon led them away, Eve couldn't help but laugh. “Yes, I am.”

As the afternoon wore on, more and more people took their leave. Bonnie Gene came up and gave both Eve and Susan a hug before leaving.

“You look good together,” she whispered in Eve's ear, indicating Damien with a thumbs-up sign.

To her dismay, Eve felt her face flush. “Thanks,” she managed.

A few minutes after her family left, finally Eve felt as if it was time to go.

“Are you ready?” Damien asked, making her wonder if he'd read her mind.

She nodded, keeping her head high as she rose, feeling Darius's malevolent glare on her back all the way to the door.

Damien followed her home in his truck.

Max greeted him in the enthusiastic way boxers have, overjoyed to see his new friend. Eve measured out her dog's kibble, then, while he ate, she poured two glasses of
nonalcoholic wine and carried them into her living room, where Damien had lit a fire.

“This is nice.” Accepting the glass, Damien sat on the couch, stretching his legs. “You were a trouper today.”

“Thanks. I actually enjoyed it,” she said honestly. “Except for the weirdness with your father. What was all that about?”

What he told her next stunned her.

“Your own father stole your inheritance?”

“Not just mine, but possibly my brothers' and sisters', too.” He looked grim, taking a long drink of wine. “And when I asked him about it, he threatened me.”

“What do you mean? Threatened you how?”

“Like he wanted to kill me.” The bleakness in his deep voice tugged at her memory.

“You know, Sharon said something similar when she was in for her hair appointment the other day. She said she was worried her own husband was trying to kill her.”

“Since he attacked her with a fireplace poker, I'm not surprised. Something's got to be done about Darius, but I don't know what. We've had a family meeting about it, but nothing got resolved.”

Though hesitant to do so, she knew she should tell him everything she knew. “You know, I've heard the FBI is investigating him. No one in town is sure what for, but that's the ongoing rumor.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, just to show he shouldn't take her seriously.

To her surprise, he did. “They
are
investigating him. Racketeering and money-laundering are just two of the items they've mentioned. They actually approached me about being an informant.”

Her mouth fell open. “On your own father?”

“Yes,” he said bitterly. “On my own father. What's worse, at one point I actually considered it.

Hurriedly, she took a sip of her drink, trying to compose her expression. “You did?”

“At one point. But not now. Darius's problems are family business. If he's broken the law, they'll need to prove it without my help.”

Aching, she touched his arm. “You sound as though you think he has.”

“Broken the law?” He gave a harsh laugh. “A man who would steal from his own son? I have no doubt Darius has done things he should go to prison for. But I've been in prison, and no matter how evil he seems to be, I wouldn't wish that on any man, especially not my own father.”

“It must have been awful for you,” she said softly. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip.

Staring off into the distance, he didn't respond. The pain etched in his rugged face tore at her heart.

She loved this man.
The realization hit her like a lightning bolt, so awful and glorious and strong she had to push herself up off the couch. When had this happened and how? Galvanized into motion, she strode into the kitchen, needing the comforting ritual of making coffee, something, anything, to keep her hands busy and purge her mind.

“I should go,” he said from behind her.

For one terrible instant she froze, on the verge of unreasonable and unwarranted tears. Then, getting a grip on herself, she nodded, making herself turn and face him with a completely insincere smile.

“I am kind of tired,” she lied. Throat aching, she managed to keep the smile in place as he uncoiled himself from the sofa and headed toward her.

“One kiss.” Low-voiced, more of a command than a request.

She could do this. She could, without giving herself away. Walking into his arms was easy, as was lifting her
face to his. But when his mouth covered hers, soft and warm, familiar and beloved, her self-restraint vanished.

Now fully aware of her feelings, heat and passion flooded her. Her burning desire ignited his own, and they wound up back on the couch, naked limbs intertwined, making love with such a deep yet tender urgency that she wanted to weep.

When it was over he held her, silent. Lying in his arms felt good and right, making her hate herself for betraying her own rules. No strings. They'd both agreed. Worse, she knew if she told him her feelings had changed, he'd run fast and far. So she kept her mouth shut, cherishing the feel of him, and steeled herself for the moment when he had to leave.

As if he sensed her turbulent emotions, he kissed her softly before easing out of her arms. “Don't worry so much.”

Startled, she stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I can see it in your face. You're worried about something. If it's my father, don't be. He has as little as possible to do with my life, and vice versa.”

Relieved, and feeling somewhat better, she nodded. “Okay.” She swallowed, then gathering up her nerve, she said, “Stay.”