Picking Up Cowboys (10 page)

chapter twelve

The soothing scent of chocolate wrapped around Catherine.  She closed her eyes and sniffed appreciatively.  Christmas, that was what it felt like.  Gage had recreated her childhood dream.  The togetherness as they made the snow cream was a sense of family.

His dark head was bent as he stirred the contents of his bowl methodically.  Catherine grinned.  He stuck too rigidly to his plans.  Almost the way she’d been all these years.  It was time for them both to break free and to learn to live a little.  It was time for Gage to try something radically different.

Catherine scooped a large spoonful of the sweet concoction onto her spoon and advanced.  Gage’s head snapped up and his gaze met hers.

“Just a little bite.”  Catherine held the spoon out to him.

Gage crossed his arms over his chest, closed his mouth tightly and shook his head no.  Tiny crinkles of laughter around his eyes gave him away and Catherine pushed the spoon closer to his mouth.

“I’ll warn you now, I retaliate.”  Gage pointed toward the bowl of vanilla.

Catherine tilted her head to the side, allowing a slow smile to lift the corners of her mouth.  “I’ll try vanilla, if you’ll try chocolate.”

Gage grabbed his spoon and scooped up a miniature mountain.  “At the same time, on the count of three.”  He held the spoon close to her lips.

He meant to feed her, Catherine realized.  She almost backed down.  But that was something that the old Catherine would do.  The new her would try it.  What the heck?  Live a little, right? 

She took a deep breath, “One.”

Gage’s eyes darkened.  “Two.”

“Three.”

The icy smoothness of the snow cream entered her mouth, the frozen crystals melting on her tongue.  Gage drew her spoon into his mouth, closing his eyes for a minute.  Catherine watched him, her mouth going dry.  Why did he have to be so enticing in every little thing he did?  It shouldn’t tempt her to simply see him eating, but at that moment, she wanted him more than she wanted to keep her ranch. 

Gage’s eyes opened and he grinned a semi-lopsided smile at her.  Catherine’s heart kicked up a notch.  Lifting his thumb to her lower lip, he rasped the rough underside over her delicate skin, and pulled his thumb to his mouth.  Catherine’s legs almost gave out on her.

“W-what,”  she stuttered, stopped and tried again.  “What are you doing?”

“You had some vanilla on your mouth.  I didn’t want to waste it.” 

“You didn’t like the chocolate?”  She sounded half-way intelligent, amazing since she couldn’t keep a coherent thought in her mind.

“I think chocolate and vanilla complement each other. Perhaps they should...mingle.”

Catherine stared at him, unsure how to respond.  They  both knew that chocolate was a metaphor for her and vanilla for him.  Catherine just wasn’t sure she was ready to ‘mingle’ with Gage.  Did he truly want her?  Or did he want her land?  And if he did truly want her, was she ready for a relationship?  She was still finding herself.  Not that he’d mentioned a relationship exactly.  It was probably better to put him off for now, but that was the last thing her insensible self wanted.

Catherine backed up a pace and cleared her throat.  “Thanks for the snow cream, Gage.  That was wonderful.  Really sweet of you to try to give me a real Christmas.”

Gage’s face flooded with a red stain and Catherine realized she’d embarrassed him. She hid her smile. 

“We still have to build a fire.”  He rubbed his hands together and headed for the living room.

Catherine trailed after him and watched as he started some kindling, let it flame for a few minutes into hot flames and then threw on a dry log.  He reached onto the mantle and pulled down two large pine cones, settling them onto the fire. 

He grinned at her over his shoulder.  “The smell of Christmas.”

Catherine drew in a long breath, the scent of burnt pine and wood smoke filled the room.  The smell didn’t evoke any memories for her but apparently it did for Gage and tonight she was satisfied to ride along on his remembrances.

“Don’t move.”  He pushed from his haunches to a standing position and trotted from the room.

Catherine turned to the fire, staring into its depths, trying to decipher the mysteries of why some people were born into normal families and others were given torn families full of pain and bitterness.  She would never do that to a child.  Never.  If she was ever blessed with a child, nothing would ever stop her from giving it Christmas.  And love, all the love in her.

Gage snatched several large, fluffy pillows off his bed.  He would make them a nest, recite ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas, or what he could remember of it and propose.  It was the perfect solution.  Married they could work as a team.  The ranch would belong to both of them and they would each have what they wanted.  And he would have Cat in his bed every day.

He whistled Jingle Bells and hopped down the stairs.  Cat was still kneeling in the same spot in front of the fire, staring morosely into the flames.  Gage frowned.  He’d have to make things a little lighter and get her into a better mood before he proposed.  It probably wasn’t a good idea to propose to a woman who was in a potentially bad mood, or melancholy one at any rate.

“Here we go.”  He dropped the pillows to the floor and nudged them into a semi-circle with his foot.”

“What’s this?”  Cat’s eyes widened and she looked at him suspiciously.

“It’s time to pile in front of the fireplace and hear a Christmas story.”

Catherine smiled and Gage felt relief kick through him.  At least she was somewhat receptive to him.  Now to make her laugh.

“Okay, I don’t have the book, so bear with me.”

Catherine relaxed back on her bent elbow, head propped on her hand.  “I’m waiting.”

“Twas the night before Turkey--”

“Turkey?”  Cat sat up and wrinkled her nose.

“Who’s telling this story, you or me?”

“You, I guess.”  She relaxed back again.

Gage bit back his grin.  “And all through the ranch, not a horse was neighing.  Not even a mare?”

“Hey!”  Catherine sat up again and frowned at him.  “That didn’t even rhyme.”

“I suppose you can do better?”

“I’ll bet that tree stand over there could do better.”  Cat smiled.

Gage laughed.  “Can I finish?”

Cat gave a mock groan.  “If you must.”

“The snow cream was mixed in the kitchen with care, in hopes that vanilla would soon be there.”

Cat rolled her gaze toward the ceiling, pretending disgust.

“The horses were nestled all snug in their stalls...while visions of sugar cubes--”

“Okay, enough.”  Catherine lay on her back and threw her arms over her eyes.

“It is awful.”  Gage chuckled.  “Now you know I’m not a poet.”             

“Yes, don’t quit your day job.”

“I do better with a script.”  He leaned over her and pulled her arm off her eyes.  “Next year we’ll get a book and do it right.”

“N-next year?”  Cat was staring up at him and Gage couldn’t have prevented himself from kissing her any more than he could have stopped it from snowing. 

Their lips met.  Chocolate and vanilla, mixing.  One sweet and spicy the other down-to-earth and rugged.  Two opposing tastes, matching into one perfect sensation.  Now was the prime opportunity to propose.  Didn’t women like proposals in front of roaring fireplaces after a kiss?

He pulled back and brushed her silky hair off her forehead.  “Cat, we complement each other.”

“Hmmm?”  She lifted her arms and tried to pull him back down, warm and sensuous. 

Gage barely refrained from taking her up on her offer.  He knew if he kissed her again, it wouldn’t stop at one kiss, or two or a hundred.  Control would be gone.  What he had to say was important - probably the most important thing he’d ever said in his life and certainly not anything he’d ever said to another woman.  He took a deep breath, hoping his vocal cords would work.

“Cat, I think we should get married.”

Her eyes snapped open.  “M-married?  Are you crazy?”

“I think it’s a very practical suggestion.”  Wasn’t she supposed to say yes?  Not call him crazy.

“Practical?”  Her eyes had narrowed slightly.

“Yes, it only makes sense.  The ranch stays in the family, you already know how to help run it.  I don’t have to marry and train a new wife.”

Cat’s blue eyes narrowed even more and she sat up and hugged her knees to her chest.  Gage allowed her the extra room, realizing his proposal was a shock and probably the last thing she’d expected.

“You would ‘train’ a new wife?”

“I don’t have to.  I can marry you and you already know the ranch.”  He smiled at her, his most charming smile, she didn’t seem affected, just hugged her knees tighter.

“And I suppose it’s a good business deal.”  Her voice was even and Gage relaxed a little.

“You’ll have more free time, I can go ahead with my plans.”

“What about children?”  Cat lifted her chin a notch.

“Yes, I’d want an heir to leave the ranch to.”  Gage could see this was working out perfectly.  Cat understood where he was coming from, they got along well enough when they weren’t fighting over ownership of the ranch.

“Of course you would,”  Cat purred.

“Don’t you want children, Cat?”

“Yes, I want children.”  She rose to her feet and stood looking down her nose at him with all the ceremony of a queen.  “I just don’t want your children.”

Gage felt like he’d been kicked in the chest.  He hadn’t really allowed himself to think about children with Cat but now that she’d said she didn’t want to have them with him a deep sense of loss filled him.

“We don’t have to have children.”  Gage said quietly, already regretting it. 

Cat stamped her foot.  “You inconsiderate, cold-hearted businessman.  I will never marry you.  Do you understand?  Never.  Not ever. Never.”

Gage felt the fire of anger start to burn in his gut.  He’d never proposed to a woman before and the first one he decided to propose to couldn’t even be decent enough to be polite in her refusal.  Of course, what had he expected out of a Claiborne.  His mistake.

“I get you loud and clear.”

“No, I don’t think you do.  I have never been so insulted in my life.  I am not some business deal and I can’t be bought and sold, the same as my ranch.”

Cat stopped, her chest heaving.  Gage pushed to his feet, refusing to remain in the vulnerable position of looking up at her, he’d made himself as vulnerable as he ever intended to again.

He glared down at her and was struck by the stab of pain that flickered through her eyes.  He looked at her a little closer and noted how pinched her lips were, like she was barely holding back sobs.  Had he insulted her unwittingly?             

“You will not get control of my ranch by marrying me.  Do you understand?  I’m not that easily bought.”

Before he could reply, Cat spun on her heel and ran up the stairs, her bedroom door slamming behind her.  Gage winced at the loud thump.

He was an idiot.  What had he been thinking to present marriage as a business deal?  Of course Catherine would find that insulting.  But it truly was the most sensible solution to their battle over the ranch.  Neither was willing to sell and they certainly couldn’t live together indefinitely and not kill one another over the changes that needed to be done.

Gage frowned.  Cat was different than anything he would have expected out of Mustang Claiborne’s daughter.  She couldn’t be manipulated or bought.  Perhaps it was time to be honest with her.  Perhaps he should mention how her father had swindled him out of this ranch.  It was rightfully his anyway.  Once she saw that, surely her sense of fairness would take over and she’d be forced to agree to marry him and allow him control of this land. 
His
land.

But, he would wait until after he’d given her Christmas.  It might hurt her to know that her father was a swindler.  She deserved one true Christmas, she’d never had one.

Chapter thirteen

Catherine tugged the blankets over her head, trying to block out the cheerful sunlight peeking through her curtains.  What right did the sun have to be cheerful?  A sexy hunk of a devil had proposed to her, the type of man any woman would dream of, and it had been the worst moment of her life.

Business deal.  She shoved the blanket down and threw a glare at the sunlight marking a beam on her wood floor.  Another Christmas.  That’s all today was.  Another day to get through and try not to be disappointed.  Catherine quickly showered, dressed and ran a comb through her hair.  No point in taking extra effort.  It was just another day.  As long as she could keep telling herself that, perhaps she wouldn’t be as heartbroken when it truly did turn out that way.

Her father was dead.  No more wishing that he had remembered, just this one Christmas.  No more.  It was too late.  He would never be able to buy her a gift, even had he wanted to.  Catherine’s throat tightened and she cleared it.

This was ridiculous, she’d quit believing in Santa when she was five and he hadn’t shown up for the second year she could remember.  No reason to think that mythical figure had appeared last night.  Nevertheless she listened for a moment, oddly half expecting to hear the jingle of sleigh bells.

She laughed.  “You’re losing it, Catherine.  Santa died when your mother did.”

The smooth metal of the doorknob felt icy to her touch, she twisted and opened the door.  It creaked loudly.  Catherine winced, noticing that Gage’s door was still firmly closed.  No reason to wake the sleeping beast, she tiptoed down the hall, skipped over that squeaky third step, and halted at the bottom of the stairs.

Catherine faced the front door, a part of her knew it would be best to go to the kitchen, put on a pot of coffee and treat this like any other day.  Another part of her felt the pull of magic, the tales of Santa leaving presents under the tree.  What if, just this once, it was true?  What if she didn’t believe and missed out?

Catherine held her hand to her heart, the ache almost unbearable from the fierce longing she still couldn’t control after all these years.  She was supposed to be becoming a new person, not repeating this old pattern over and over again.  A new Catherine.  The new Catherine needed to just walk into the kitchen and never even glance into the living room.  The old Catherine couldn’t stand it.

Her body turned, almost with a will of its own and she stepped hesitantly into the living room.  A lifetime history of disappointments made her steps heavy.  Memories of Christmas after Christmas of hoping and having that hope knocked down and stomped on surged through her.  The trip from the foot of the stairs to the tree seemed to take forever.  Catherine halted just in front of the evergreen, her vision so blurred by tears she couldn’t focus on anything. 

She glanced toward the ceiling, trying to rein in her tears.  Closing her eyes tightly, she took a deep breath as she sent up a prayer she herself was barely aware of.  Catherine looked down.  A present.  A single, small, wrapped in red with a silver bow present.

Catherine’s breath left her is a loud whoosh.  She shook her head to clear her vision, but the package was still there.  She bent down to get a closer look. 
To Catherine
.  That was all it said.  She fell into a sitting position and hugged the present to her.  She sniffed.  All these years, all the waiting, all the hopes and dreams, and finally here was a present.

Large, warm tears rolled down her cheeks until she could taste their salt.  A portion of her soul that she had closed off in her childhood broke free. 

“Looks like Santa visited.”  Gage’s voice was like hot liquid being poured on ice. 

Cat turned her face from him, not willing to let him see her tears.  She could hear the soft pad of his socks as he drew nearer.

“Cat, are you okay?”

And she was on her feet and into his arms.  She felt the comfort of warm arms wrapped around her shoulders and he patted her awkwardly on the back.  Cat buried her face in his shoulder and the emotions she’d held in check for so many years poured out onto his shirt.

The feather-soft whisper of his lips against her forehead soothed her.  Cat took a shuddering breath and leaned back slightly.  “Thank you.”

Gage brushed his thumb over her jawbone, stopping at the sensitive spot beneath her ear and messaging in tiny circles.  “Merry Christmas, Cat.  I hope you like it.”

He seemed suddenly nervous.  Cat thought it was endearing.  “I don’t think I’ll even open it.”

“You don’t want it?”  A brief shadow crossed his eyes.

Cat smiled.  “I do want it.  But you see, this is the first present I’ve ever found under my tree on Christmas morning.  I’d like to savor it a while.  Leave it there.”

Gage frowned slightly.  “You’re sure?” 

“Yes,  I’ll make coffee for us and we’ll have some breakfast and then I may open it.”

Gage sent another longing glance at the tree and followed her into the kitchen.  Cat smiled.  He seemed awfully anxious for her to open his present.  What had he gotten her?  A sudden thought almost stopped her in her tracks.  What if it was a ring?

He’d proposed last night after all.  How would she handle it if he’d given her a ring, knowing he only wanted her for her ranch?  She slid a sideways look at him and busied herself making coffee.  Maybe there was more than one reason to delay unwrapping that package.

“Let’s cook a dinner,”  Catherine said the first thing that came to mind.

“Do we have anything?”

“I have a ham I can defrost in the microwave and I can scrounge up the rest.  A real Christmas dinner.  Can we?”

“Sounds like a good idea.”                Gage smiled and his dimple appeared.

Catherine sighed.  He was certainly hard to resist.  “I‘ll get started on the ham.”

“Can I do anything?”  He crossed to stand behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist. 

“N-no,”  Catherine stumbled over her words.

“Cat, I’m sorry about last night.  What an unromantic proposal.  I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Catherine almost choked on her response.  “Of course.  Let’s just forget it ever happened.”

“But--”

Catherine interrupted him, “I’d better get this started or it will never be unthawed.”  She shooed him away.

“I’m going to go call my mother and sister to wish them a Merry Christmas.”

“Okay.”  Catherine opened the freezer door and searched for the ham.  She heard him sigh and then he left the room.

She released the breath she’d been holding.  It was going to be a long day if he kept touching her like that.  She’d just have to find better ways to distract him.

Gage smiled.  His present had put a sparkle in Cat’s eyes.  He had never seen someone get so excited over a gift.  She would probably be perfectly happy to never open it, just to have the wrapped package to look at and remind her of the first Christmas she’d had a present waiting under the tree.

Mustang Claiborne had been a first rate scoundrel.  If he was around, Gage would have happily planted a fist in his face.  No longer simply because the man had cheated his mother out of the land and therefore him, but because of the way he’d treated his daughter.

Gage punched the numbers into the keypad for his mother’s home in Boston.  His mother had moved the family to Boston shortly after Mustang had stolen the ranch.  Gage frowned.  He’d never thought to ask his mother where she’d found the money to buy them a house in Boston.  He’d always assumed some sympathetic relative had helped them out, he’d have to find out who so he could repay them now that he was able.

His mother answered on the fourth ring, sounding a little out of breath.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Gage, where the heck have you been?  I’ve been calling for weeks.”

Gage laughed. Once a mother always a mother.  “Aspen Trails.”

Silence stretched on the other end until Gage began to wonder if they’d been disconnected.

His mother cleared her throat.  Not once.  Not twice. Several times.  “What are you doing there?”

“I own it now.”

His mother screeched and Gage held the phone from his ear.

“Actually, I own half of it.  Mustang left it to me.  Must have been a guilty conscience,” he said dryly.

“That double-crossing, no-good--”

“Yeah, I feel the same way about him.  His daughter seems different though.”  Gage almost surprised himself by saying it.

“Listen to me, Gage.  I want you off that ranch and back in Boston now.”  A stifled sob escaped.

“What’s wrong?”  He sat up.  “Is Anna sick?”

“No.  Your sister is fine.  I mean it, Gage.  Get in your car today and drive home.”

“Unless you give me a better reason, I’m afraid not.  I’ve been trying to get back here too long to just run out.”

“And I worked too hard to get you out of there to have it all ruined now.”  His mother’s voice was shrill.

Gage frowned.  He’d known his mother hated ranch life, had heard his parents argue about it often, but he hadn’t realized she hated it to this degree.

“I called to say Merry Christmas, Mother.  But just one thing before I hang up, this is my home. Where I was raised and where I intend to raise my own children.”  Gage gently replaced the receiver in the cradle and looked up, his gaze colliding with Cat’s accusing blue one.

“You were raised here.”  It wasn’t a question.  Cat was stating a fact she’d just heard him say.

Gage forced his tense shoulders to relax, a niggling memory trying to edge its way out, but he couldn’t focus on it with Catherine standing in front of him, feet slightly apart, hands on hips.

Gage nodded.  “Yes.  My father owned this ranch, he intended to pass it down to me.”

“Then why sell it?  And why do you want it back now?  After all this time.”

“I didn’t sell it, my mother did.  But only because she was swindled.”

Catherine moved closer and laid her hand on his arm.  “I’m sorry, Gage.  How awful that must have been for you.  Why didn’t you tell me?”

“The man was my partner, Catherine.” 

Catherine nodded sympathetically, apparently unaware that her father had been his business partner.

“He stole my plans to turn this place into a dude ranch and then swindled my mother into selling out to him at a ridiculous price.”

Catherine paled a little and her breath began to come in short pants of air.  “My father turned this place into a dude ranch.”

“Exactly.”  The words dripped from his lips, cold enough to form icicles.

“You can’t mean...”  Catherine stared at him with her mouth hanging loose.  “You don’t actually think my father swindled your mother.”

“I don’t think it.  I know it.  He took my idea and stole my land.”

Catherine shoved away from him, putting the distance of the room between them before she turned to glare at him.  “My father would never do such a thing.”  Her words were strong and clear, but a flicker of doubt passed over her eyes.

Gage felt his lips curl back in a sneer.  “Oh, yes, he was such a wonderful man.  He couldn’t even be bothered to remember his only child at Christmas but he sure as heck could remember where to get a bottle of booze.”

Cat paled noticeably.  “That’s not fair.  He had a drinking problem.  That doesn’t make him a thief.”

Gage pushed to his feet, pacing the room restlessly.  “No, the booze didn’t make him a thief.  I’d say he was a born con artist.”

Cat put her hands to her ears as if trying to shut out his words.  “I don’t believe you.  You just want to get me to sell my half of the ranch to you.  You’d do anything to get this place.”

“It’s rightfully mine anyway.”

Cat sputtered, “How can you say that?  This was my father’s ranch.  He built it from the ground up and he bought it fair and square.”

“No, he stole it.  And I think you know it.”