Joe was within arm’s reach when he said, “I just have to convince her that she needs me just as much as I need her. And if she’ll just give me a chance, I’ll prove it.”
“Ah hell,” Ralph said. “Women don’t need a man these days, son. What you gotta do is convince her that you’ll love her no matter what and always buy her new dresses and promise to let her mother live with you, even when you hate the old biddy.”
As much as Chloe wanted to scowl, she couldn’t help smiling at the advice Joe’s new cronies were giving him.
Nor could she tear her eyes away from the intensity and sincerity in his gaze.
He took her by the hand, and while her damaged ego and frail heart urged her to pull away, she didn’t move a muscle.
“I love you,” he said. “And I was a fool to think those awful things about you. And I was a real ass for saying them out loud. My amnesia was no excuse, but when all those memories came rushing back to me, I was overcome with all those old emotions I’d kept locked away. I didn’t know who I was, but I do now. And I want to share that man with you—and let you know that he’ll always stand beside you and always have your back.”
Emotion clogged Chloe’s throat, and she wasn’t sure she could get the words out, even if she tried.
But the truth was, she’d seen the man Joe was talking about. She’d known he was there all along. And she wanted to trust him, to believe him.
But could she?
“Okay,” Sam said, “Don’t make the devil dog grovel, missy. Can’t you just give him a second chance? If he lets you down again, he’ll have to answer to me.”
“He’ll have to answer to all of us,” Ralph said.
She almost choked on a laugh before George Eggleston added, “If Joe says he’s sorry, you can believe it. Now go on and prove it to her, boy.”
Before Chloe could respond, Joe followed the old man’s advice and did just that, lifting her in his arms and kissing her with all the love he’d said he felt.
When they came up for air, she asked, “What about the ranch?”
“What about it? You can sell it or keep it—whatever you want. I now realize that you never really wanted it. Just know that I’ll stand by whatever you decide to do. If you want to go back to nursing school, I’ll even volunteer to let you practice poking me with hypodermic needles. I just want to be with you. I love you, Chloe Dawson.”
Then he kissed her a second time while the men behind him erupted in cheers as if it was V-day all over again.
And that gave her pause—and the courage to broach the dream she’d kept hidden from him before.
“What about these guys?” she asked. “What if I wanted them to all come home and live on the ranch with us?”
Joe merely smiled, his eyes bright. “I’ve got the money to make that dream happen for you. Come to find out, I got an inheritance, too. So all you have to do is say the word.”
“The word is I love you, too, Joe Martinez Wilcox.” Then she kissed him again with all the love in her heart.
Epilogue
When Joe and Chloe arrived at Rick and Mallory’s house for Christmas, their hosts opened the front door before they could even get out of the new truck Joe purchased to replace Ol’ Greenie.
Just two weeks ago, he didn’t even know he had a family. And now he was spending the holidays with his brother and sister-in-law, his nephew, and his soon-to-be fiancée—assuming Chloe said yes when she opened her Christmas gift.
As Joe reached into the back of the truck for their presents, Chloe carried a foil-covered pan up the sidewalk.
“What do you have there?” Mallory asked. “You didn’t need to bring anything.”
“Rick will want these,” Joe said. “I used Tía Rosa’s recipe. It won’t be Christmas without them.”
“You brought tamales?” Rick asked as he ushered them inside. His eyes lit up as he breathed in the spicy scent from the still-warm pan.
“I sure did.”
Neither man mentioned the fact that most Christmases after their parents died hadn’t been merry or bright. They’d often been ruined by their uncle’s drunken escapades or alcoholic rants. But one thing they could always count on having were Tía’s tamales.
From what Joe had heard, their aunt and uncle’s home was a happy one these days. So he planned to visit them sometime next week.
“I’d planned to bring some of my cranberry orange scones,” Chloe told Mallory, “But Joe ate them all.”
“Don’t worry. Megan, Clay’s wife, has been baking up a storm and brought a ton of desserts. Come on, I’ll show you. She’s in the kitchen, setting them out.”
Joe had been looking forward to seeing Clay, his old high school buddy. He was also eager to meet Megan. He’d heard she was not only a fabulous cook, but had just launched her own line of homemade jams and preserves. There was talk of her opening a bakery, too.
“Did you hear what happened to drunk Larry?” Rick asked.
That was the driver of the Silverado that had hit Joe outside the Stagecoach Inn. “I knew his wife talked him into turning himself in right before Sheriff Hollister was going to make an arrest. And that he’s out on bail.”
“Apparently he decided to celebrate his freedom at a bar in Wexler two nights ago and was involved in another accident.”
“No kidding? You’d think he would have learned his lesson.”
“This time he hit a squad car driven by one of Wexler’s finest,” Rick said. “So it looks like he won’t be driving or drinking for a while.”
Joe was glad to hear that.
“Come on.” Rick placed a hand on Joe’s back. “Let’s go find Clay.”
“Good idea.”
The reunion between the men—once three of Brighton Valley’s most notorious outcasts—was soon filled with good-natured teasing and laughter. They didn’t do much reminiscing, since none of them had the kind of past that had made Christmas special. But in true holiday spirit, they focused on the new blessings life had brought their way.
As Joe glanced around the crowded house, he saw that the kids were having a good time, too. His nephew Lucas, who actually did look a whole lot like him, had hit it off with Tyler, Clay and Megan’s son. The boys sat near the tree, checking out their new video games and trying to decide which one to play first. And Lisa, Tyler’s sister, was begging to go outside and try out her new soccer ball.
As Mallory passed out the eggnog, Rick stopped her long enough to pat her baby bump. A warm and tender moment passed between the obviously happy couple, which was enough to make Joe both grateful and envious at the same time. Maybe, if things went the way he hoped they would, he and Chloe would be adding to the Martinez clan one of these days.
“With the way the family is growing,” Rick said, “we may have to move this party to the ranch next Christmas.”
“I’d love that,” Chloe said as she joined Rick near the hearth.
“Speaking of the ranch,” Mallory said, “is the probate going okay?”
“Mr. McDougall seems to think it should move along without any snags. And once that’s done, we should be able to start making changes to the ranch house and open the Brighton Valley Retired Cowboys’ Home. We hope to welcome our first residents by spring.”
“Actually,” Joe said, “Sam Darnell, our first cowboy, will be moving in next week. He’s a great guy. You’ll have to come meet him. He’ll be helping me learn the ins and outs of ranching.”
“I never expected you to grow up to be a cowboy, Joey.” Rick chuckled and gave him a brotherly nudge. “Of course, I never expected you to be a soldier, either.”
“Why’s that?” Joe asked.
“Because I wouldn’t have thought you’d make it through boot camp.”
“Well, I did. And if you think that was unbeli
evable, you’re about to see a real miracle.” He grabbed the wrapped box from beneath the tree and headed toward Chloe, who was seated on the sofa, talking to both Megan and Mallory.
Joe handed her the large gift with a bright red bow. “Merry Christmas, Chloe.”
She looked at it in confusion, probably wondering when he’d had a chance to buy her anything. Then her gaze lifted to his. “But, Joe, I thought we weren’t exchanging gifts until tomorrow morning.”
Well, some of the things he’d bought her, like the black lace nightie he’d picked up at The Cowboy Connection in Houston, would have to wait until they were alone. But this was one he wanted to give her in front of his family and friends.
“I know,” he said, “but indulge me and open this tonight.” He stood before her and waited as she slowly removed the ribbon and unwrapped the box.
When she lifted the lid and spotted the red cowboy boots she’d admired, her breath caught and a smile burst across her pretty face. “Joe, you remembered!”
He grinned, his heart swelling until he felt like the hero the military claimed he was.
“Try them on,” he said.
“I’m sure they’ll fit. Besides, I’d rather try them on at home.”
“Please. Do it for me. I’d like to see how they look on you.”
She balked one more time, but at his gentle urging, she removed her shoes. Then she slipped her foot partway into the right boot and frowned. “There must be cardboard or something shoved in there to keep the shape.”
After removing her foot, she reached into the boot to retrieve whatever was stuffed inside, only to find a small, black velvet box. She gasped, then studied it in awe before realizing Joe had placed it there and had intended for her to find it.
By the time she flipped open the lid and spotted the sparkling diamond ring, Joe was down on one knee. “I love you, Chloe Dawson. Will you marry me?”
Her eyes sparkled, and she broke into a happy smile. “Yes!”
Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, making a Christmas memory neither of them would ever forget.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from A CELEBRATION CHRISTMAS by Nancy Robards Thompson
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Chapter One
Cullen Dunlevy had never begged for anything in his adult life, but right now he was desperate. “I’ll pay you triple your salary if you’ll stay for two more hours, Angie,” he said. “And you don’t have to clean up after the kids.”
“Dr. Dunlevy, there isn’t enough money in the world to make me stay.” Unmoved, the housekeeper brushed past him. She paused at the top of the stairs. “Call me when you find a home for them.”
A home for them? They’re kids, not stray animals.
Cullen glanced down at ten-year-old Megan Thomas. All the color had drained from her already pale cheeks. Then his gaze found its way back to the hall-bath toilet, which was overflowing with some kind of expanding blue goop that seemed to be growing exponentially. The prank had been the final straw, the reason for Angie’s noon phone call to Cullen at the hospital, informing him he had exactly one hour to get home because she was fed up and leaving.
What happened to the theory “it takes a village”?
Couldn’t Angie have a little heart? Sure, the four of them were unruly, but anyone with an ounce of compassion could see their disobedience stemmed from grief.
The kids had lost both their parents in a car accident. Their dad, Greg Thomas, had been Cullen’s lifelong friend. Given the lingering sting of his own grief, he couldn’t imagine what the kids must be going through. They were homeless and alone in the world except for each other. And they were at the mercy of the Texas Department of Family and Protective Services.
A pang of guilt coursed through Cullen. He had room for them in this big, empty house, but was that enough? Didn’t kids deserve two loving parents? He was married to a job that demanded sixteen-hour days. He worked and slept, only to get up day after day to repeat the routine. He didn’t know anything about raising kids. Hell, he’d thought he was doing the right thing by leaving them with Angie.
Obviously that had been a colossal mistake.
Standing there, alternating glances between Megan and the creeping blue foam, Cullen realized if he were any further out of his element he might sprout fins and gills and start flopping on the tile.
He swallowed an expletive and reminded himself that he might not be the best candidate to parent his friends’ children, but the one thing he could do to honor Greg and his wife, Rosa, would be to make sure the kids stayed together. The kids would live with him until he found the right family that would take all four of them.
In the meantime, he needed to convince Angie to stay just a little longer.
The kids ranged in age from five to ten years old. They were relatively self-sufficient. In other words, Angie wouldn’t be warming bottles and changing diapers. Just one more hour—give or take a few minutes—during which she could go on about her usual housecleaning duties, toilet-clogging blue foam exempted, while he interviewed Lily Palmer, the nanny candidate. At least Lily had agreed to change her schedule and move up their interview to one o’clock that afternoon.
Until he’d explained his dire straits, she hadn’t been free until the end of the week. At least she was flexible. Of course, he’d cushioned the story, telling her that his temporary child care had fallen through and he was in a pinch. There was no way he was going to scare her off with the gory details of pranks and temper tantrums. He prayed to God that she was right for the kids and available to start immediately.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Cullen,” said Megan. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. He’d known Megan and her brother and two sisters since birth. Hell, he’d known their father since the two of them were in kindergarten. Uncle Cullen was an honorary title that he didn’t take lightly, especially now that Greg was gone.
“I told George not to dump the potion in the toilet,” she continued earnestly.
Nine-year-old George was the second oldest after Megan, and he was conspicuously absent at the moment.
As chief of staff at Celebration Memorial Hospital, Cullen ran a tight ship and prided himself on being unshakable even in the face of the most horrific medical emergencies. However, after taking in Greg’s kids, Cullen had discovered he wasn’t as unflinching as he thought.
But wait—
“The potion?” Cullen asked, Megan’s words belatedly sinking in.
“Yeah,” said the little girl. “We like to pretend we’re scientists and the bathroom is our lab. We make potions out of all the things we find in there.”
He tried to remember where Angie stored the cleaning supplies that produced noxious fumes if mixed together—like bleach and ammonia.
“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” he said. “But it can be kind of dangerous. So you have to be careful. What did you mix together to make the potion expand like that?”
The girl had started to give him a laundry list of ingredients when Angie called from downstairs, “Goodbye, Dr. Dunlevy. I’m leaving now.”
He’d let her
go downstairs to cool off a bit, hoping he could talk some sense into her. Or bribe her.
“Angie, please wait.”
He looked at the little girl. “I need to go apologize to Angie and try and talk her into staying. We’ll talk about the potion later. In the meantime, please don’t conduct any more chemistry experiments. And don’t flush anything else down the toilet. Will you please make sure your brother and sisters don’t, either? I’m counting on you, okay?”
Megan nodded and swiped at her tears. He ruffled her hair to show her he wasn’t mad at her. He was mad at the situation, but what else could he do except go down and plead with Angie?
He was so out of his league. But when he’d gotten Megan’s distress call three days ago, he’d had no choice but to bring the kids to live with him.
People could say a lot of things about Cullen Dunlevy, but no one could deny that he was a man of his word.
Six months ago, after Greg and Rosa’s funeral, it seemed as if the kids were settled. They were set to move in with a great couple. Dan and Carla, friends of Greg and Rosa, had agreed to take in the kids—all four of them. They’d promised to love them as their own. But then Carla had gotten sick. Terminally ill. In the weeks before the adoption was to become final, they had to back out.
No warning. No opportunity for Cullen to point out that he wouldn’t make a good guardian since he practically lived at the hospital. But he’d made a promise to Megan at her parents’ funeral. He’d told her if she needed anything—anything at all—she could call him and he’d be there.
When he’d made that promise, he’d intended anything at all to mean money, a ride, advice. He’d never imagined the little girl would call, asking him to give her and her brother and sisters a temporary home.
But she had called, and he intended to keep his word for as long as it took to find the kids a new adoptive family where they could stay together—all four of them.
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