by Lisa Jackson
“I ran out of the shed and twisted my ankle,” Sandy said, tears streaming from her eyes. “I landed on the concrete, right on my stomach, and I felt—Oh, God, I felt like I crushed the baby.”
“Okay, let’s take a look…” As discreetly as possible, Libby examined Sandy, saw the streaks of blood on her legs, and bit her lip.
“Is it—”
“I think you’re okay. You’re bleeding, but not much…” She looked for the fire chief. “Any free ambulances?”
“Just one.”
“Put her on it.”
“Oh, Libby…” Sandy cried.
“I’ll come with you,” Libby promised. “You just stay calm.”
Within seconds, they were on their way to Bend. Despite the wailing siren and the breakneck speed, the miles seem to go by at a snail’s pace. Libby held Sandy’s hand all the way, and they prayed together. “Brett was going to call Leo. He’ll meet us at the hospital.”
“I can’t lose this baby… I just can’t…” Sandy whispered, her face as white as the sheet tucked around her neck. The fingers tightening over Libby’s were nearly bone-crushing.
Finally the ambulance ground to a stop at the hospital, and Sandy was rushed into the emergency room. Leo and Brett arrived shortly thereafter, and Libby nearly collapsed in Brett’s arms. They held each other while Leo filled out the admission forms. Then, over cups of lukewarm coffee, they waited in a room clogged with the relatives and friends of the victims of the fire.
“If only we had a clinic or somethin’ in Cascade,” Leo said as he stubbed out his third cigarette. “Lord, what’s takin’ so long?”
“They’re busy,” Libby said.
“All the more reason we should have a clinic of our own.”
Brett caught Libby’s gaze, and her throat constricted.
Nearly an hour passed before a thin doctor with a worried expression caught Leo’s attention. “Mr. Van Pelt?”
Libby’s heart stuck in her throat as the doctor took Leo aside. She braced herself against the wall, her heart nearly stopping. Then she saw a huge smile cross Leo’s lips and tears fill his eyes. “Sandy and the baby are fine,” he said as he returned. “Aside from a sprained ankle, that is. Sandy will have to rest in bed, but the baby—my boy—is okay!” Eyes gleaming, he shook Libby’s hand. “Thanks,” he whispered.
“I didn’t do anything—”
“You did everything, Libby. You probably saved my son’s life. I’ll never forget it.” He took off down the hall after the doctor, and Libby felt a warmth spread through her insides.
“He’s right, you know,” Brett said as he tucked his hand around her elbow and guided her outside. Dusk was turning the sky a soft shade of lavender, and the first few stars were visible.
When they were alone, Brett wound his arms around her and kissed her sooty forehead. “I was coming after you when I got the call about the fire,” he said. “Watching you drive away, I knew that I couldn’t let you go. Not until I told you that I love you and I want you to marry me and live with me the rest of my life.”
Time seemed to stand still.
Tears burned behind Libby’s eyes, and she hardly dared breathe. Had she heard him correctly? “But I was coming back to you. I’d seen some kids in the churchyard and knew that I’d never be happy without you…without children of our own.”
“I need you, Libby,” he said, his eyes suspiciously bright. “And the town needs you. You could set up your own clinic.”
“And what about our children?”
“Didn’t Sandy say she was thinking of babysitting? Couldn’t she start a day-care center? I bet we could find a building in town big enough to house a preschool and a clinic.”
“You think so, do you?” she asked, smiling.
“I do if you’ll marry me.”
Blinking back tears, she grinned up at him. “I’ve been waiting for five years for you to ask.”
With a hoot, he swung her off her feet. “You think the preacher could squeeze in a Christmas wedding?”
“For tomorrow?”
“Or tonight.”
“Oh, Brett, I don’t know. He’s busy.”
“No harm in asking. Come on—”
“Now?” she asked, laughing, as he led her to his Bronco.
“No time like the present. We’ll go home and change, then show up at the pageant. I’ll corner the preacher and see what he can do for us.” Once they were inside the cab, he turned on the ignition and drove back to Cascade. They passed the church, where people were preparing for the night’s festivities, then stopped at the sawmill’s parking lot to grab Libby’s suitcase from her car. There were still fire fighters and millwrights cleaning up the mess, but Brett didn’t linger. He drove up the narrow road to his cabin at Pine Mountain.
He helped her from the cab and held her tight, as if he were afraid she might disappear. The night, Christmas Eve, seemed to close around them. A thousand stars glittered above the snow-crusted forest, and Brett’s warm body hugged hers as if his very life depended upon her. “I’m going to make sure that you’ll never walk away from me again,” he vowed.
“I won’t.”
His lips found hers in a kiss that promised to last a lifetime. Far in the distance, church bells chimed, their melodic peals resounding through the mountains.
It’s Christmas, Libby realized, and I’m home. I’m finally home. With Brett. Forever.
* * * * *
Can a former bad boy and the woman he never forgot find true love during one unforgettable Christmas? Find out in CHRISTMASTIME COWBOY, the sizzling new Copper Ridge novel from New York Times bestselling author Maisey Yates. Read on for your sneak peek…
CHAPTER ONE
Liam Donnelly was nobody’s favorite.
Though being a favorite in their household growing up would never have meant much, Liam was confident that as much as both of his parents disdained their younger son, Alex, they hated Liam more.
And as much as his brothers loved him—or whatever you wanted to call their brand of affection—Liam knew he wasn’t the one they’d carry out if there was a house fire. That was fine too.
It wasn’t self-pity. It was just a fact.
But while he wasn’t anyone’s particular favorite, he knew he was at least one person’s least favorite.
Sabrina Leighton hated him with every ounce of her beautiful, petite being. Not that he blamed her. But, considering they were having a business meeting today, he did hope that she could keep some of the hatred bottled up.
Liam got out of his truck and put his cowboy hat on, surveying his surroundings. The winery spread was beautiful, with a large, picturesque house overlooking the grounds. The winery and the road leading up to it were carved into an Oregon mountainside. Trees and forest surrounded the facility on three sides, creating a secluded feeling. Like the winery was part of another world. In front of the first renovated barn was a sprawling lawn and a path that led down to the river. There was a seating area there and Liam knew that during the warmer months it was a nice place to hang out. Right now, it was too damned cold, and the damp air that blew up from the rushing water sent a chill straight through him.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept on walking. There were three rustic barns on the property that they used for weddings and dinners, and one that had been fully remodeled into a dining and tasting room.
He had seen the new additions online. He hadn’t actually been to Grassroots Winery in the past thirteen years. That was part of the deal. The deal that had been struck back when Jamison Leighton was still owner of the place.
Back when Liam had been nothing more than a good-for-nothing, low-class troublemaker with a couple of misdemeanors to his credit.
Times changed.
Liam might still be all those things at heart, but he was also a successful businessman. And Jamison Leighton no longer owned Grassroots.
Some things, however, hadn’t changed. The presence of Sabrina Leighton being one of them.
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It had been thirteen years. But he couldn’t pretend he thought everything was all right and forgiven. Not considering the way she had reacted when she had seen him at Ace’s bar the past few months. Small towns.
Like everybody was at the same party and could only avoid each other for so long.
If it wasn’t at the bar, they would most certainly end up at a four-way stop at the same time, or in the same aisle at the grocery store.
But today’s meeting would not be accidental. Today’s meeting was planned. He wondered if something would get thrown at him. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.
He walked across the gravel lot and into the dining room. It was empty, since the facility—a rustic barn with a wooden chandelier hanging in the center—had yet to open for the day. There was a bar with stools positioned at the front, and tables set up around the room. Back when he had worked here there had been one basic tasting room, and nowhere for anyone to sit. Most of the wine had been sent out to retail stores for sale, rather than making the winery itself some kind of destination.
He wondered when all of that had changed. He imagined it had something to do with Lindy, the new owner and ex-wife of Jamison Leighton’s son, Damien. As far as Liam knew, and he knew enough—considering he didn’t get involved with business ventures without figuring out what he was getting into—Damien had drafted the world’s dumbest prenuptial agreement. At least, it was dumb for a man who clearly had problems keeping his dick in his pants.
Though why Sabrina was still working at the winery when her sister-in-law had current ownership, and her brother had been deposed, and her parents were—from what he had read in public records—apoplectic about the loss of their family legacy, he didn’t know. But he assumed he would find out. At about the same time he found out whether or not something was going to get thrown at his head.
The door from the back opened, and he gritted his teeth. Because, no matter how prepared he felt philosophically to see Sabrina, he knew that there would be impact. There always was. A damned funny thing, that one woman could live in the back of his mind the way she had for so long. That no matter how many years or how many women he put between them, she still burned bright and hot in his memory.
That no matter that he had steeled himself to run into her—because he knew how small towns worked—the impact was like a brick to the side of his head every single time.
She appeared a moment after the door opened, looking severe. Overly so. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and she was wearing a black sheath dress that went down past her knee, but conformed to curves that were more generous than they’d been thirteen years ago.
In a good way.
“Hello, Liam,” she said, her tone impersonal. Had she not used his first name, it might have been easy to pretend that she didn’t know who he was.
“Sabrina.”
“Lindy told me that you wanted to talk about a potential joint venture. And since that falls under my jurisdiction as manager of the tasting room, she thought we might want to work together.”
Now she was smiling.
The smile was so brittle it looked like it might crack her face.
“Yes, I’m familiar with the details. Particularly since this venture was my idea.” He let a small silence hang there for a beat before continuing. “I’m looking at an empty building on the end of Main Street. It would be more than just a tasting room. It would be a small café with some retail space.”
“How would it differ from Lane Donnelly’s store? She already offers specialty foods.”
“Well, we would focus on Grassroots wine and Laughing Irish cheese. Also, I would happily purchase products from Lane’s to give the menu a local focus. The café would be nothing big. Just a small lunch place with wine. Very limited selection. Very specialty. But I feel like in a tourist location, that’s what you want.”
“Great,” she said, her smile remaining completely immobile.
He took that moment to examine her more closely. The changes in her face over the years. She was more beautiful now than she had been at seventeen. Her slightly round, soft face had refined in the ensuing years, her cheekbones now more prominent, the angle of her chin sharper.
Her eyebrows looked different too. When she’d been a teenager they’d been thinner, rounder. Now they were a bit stronger, more angular.
“Great,” he returned. “I guess we can go down and have a look at the space sometime this week. Gage West is the owner of the property, and he hasn’t listed it yet. Handily, my sister-in-law is good friends with his wife. Both of my sisters-in-law, actually. So I got the inside track on that.”
Her expression turned bland. “How impressive.”
She sounded absolutely unimpressed. “It wasn’t intended to be impressive. Just useful.”
She sighed slowly. “Did you have a day of the week in mind to go view the property? Because I really am very busy.”
“Are you?”
“Yes,” she responded, that smile spreading over her face again. “This is a very demanding job, plus, I do have a life.”
She stopped short of saying exactly what that life entailed.
“Too busy to do this, which is part of your actual job?” he asked.
On the surface she looked calm, but he could sense a dark energy beneath that spoke of a need to savage him. “I had my schedule sorted out for the next couple of weeks. This is coming together more quickly than expected.”
“I’ll work something out with Gage and give Lindy a call, how about that?”
“You don’t have to call Lindy. I’ll give you my phone number. You can call or text me directly.”
She reached over to the counter and took a card from the rustic surface, extending her hand toward him. He reached out and took the card, their fingertips brushing as they made the handoff.
And he felt it. Straight down to his groin, where he had always felt things for her, even though it was impossible. Even though he was all wrong for her. And even though now they were doing a business deal together, and she looked like she would cheerfully chew through his flesh if given half the chance.
She might be smiling, but he didn’t trust that smile. He was still waiting. Waiting for her to shout recriminations at him now that they were alone. Every other time he had encountered her over the past four months it had been in public. Twice in Ace’s bar, and once walking down the street, where she had made a very quick sharp left to avoid walking past him.
It had not been subtle, and it had certainly not spoken of somebody who was over the past.
So his assumption had been that if the two of them were ever alone she was going to let them have it. But she didn’t. Instead, she gave him that card, and then began to look… Bored.
“Did you need anything else?” she asked.
“Not really. Though I have some spreadsheet information that you might want to look over. Ideas that I have for the layout, the menu. It is getting a little ahead of ourselves, in case we end up not liking the venue.”
“You’ve been to look at the venue already, haven’t you?” It was vaguely accusatory.
“I have been there, yes. But again, I believe in preparedness. I was hardly going to get very deep into this if I didn’t think it was viable. Personally, I’m interested in making sure that we have diverse interests. The economy doesn’t typically favor farms, Sabrina. And that is essentially what my brothers and I have. I expect an uphill fight to make that place successful.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Like you said, you do your research.”
Her friendliness was beginning to slip. And he waited. For something else. For something to get thrown at him. It didn’t happen.
“That I do. Take these,” he said, handing her the folder that he was holding onto. He made sure their fingers didn’t touch this time. “And we’ll talk next week.”
Then he turned and walked away from her, and he resisted the strong impulse to turn back and get one more glance
at her. It wasn’t the first time he had resisted that.
He had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.
* * *
As soon Liam walked out of the tasting room Sabrina let out a breath that had been killing her to keep in. A breath that contained about a thousand insults and recriminations. And more than a few very colorful swear word combinations. A breath that nearly burned her throat, because it was full of so many sharp and terrible things.
She lifted her hands to her face, and realized they were shaking. It had been thirteen years. Why did he still affect her like this? Maybe, just maybe, if she had ever found a man that made her feel even half of what Liam did it wouldn’t have such a hard time dealing with him. The feelings wouldn’t be so strong.
But she hadn’t. So that supposition was basically moot.
The worst part was the tattoos. He’d had about three when he’d been nineteen. Now, they covered both of his arms, and she had the strongest urge to make them as familiar to her as the original tattoos had been. To memorize each and every detail about them.
The tree was the one that really caught her attention. The Celtic knots, she knew, were likely a nod to his Irish heritage, but the tree—whose branches she could see stretching down from his shoulder—she was curious about what that meant.
“And you are spending too much time thinking about him,” she admonished herself.
She shouldn’t be thinking about him at all. She should just focus on congratulating herself for saying nothing stupid. At least she hadn’t cried and demanded answers for the night he had completely laid waste to her every feeling.
“How did it go?”
Sabrina turned and saw her sister-in-law Lindy come in. People would be forgiven for thinking that she and Lindy were actually biological sisters. In fact, they looked much more alike than Sabrina and her younger sister Beatrix did.
Like Sabrina, Lindy had long, straight blonde hair. Bea, on the other hand, had freckles all over her face and a wild riot of reddish brown curls that resisted taming almost as strongly as the youngest Leighton sibling herself did.