Longing for a Cowboy Christmas

by Leigh Greenwood

  Rebel turned her gaze toward the church, and her feet followed. Soon she stood at the front where some prayer candles burned. She picked up a long, thin match and lit a wick for Travis.

  Boot heels struck the floor behind her, but she barely heard them so intent was she on her prayer.

  A large hand touched her shoulder. A man cleared his throat. “Hello, darlin’.”

  Rebel whirled and threw her arms around his neck. Was he real or nothing more than a figment of her imagination? She touched his cheek and jaw, his hair. He seemed real.

  “I waited so long.” Tears slid down her face. Nothing had ever felt as good as his arms around her, holding her. “Don’t ever let me go, Travis.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on it.” Travis held Rebel against him, and the wild heartbeat of the woman he’d walk a million miles to claim raced against his chest.

  She laughed and tilted her face toward him. So vibrant and alive, she took his breath. He tumbled into the depths of her beautiful green eyes that glittered in the light streaming in through the windows. His breath catching in his throat, he lifted a dark strand of hair curling about her shoulders. How had he gotten so lucky? The husky sound of her voice tethered her to him like strips of rawhide.

  He pulled his lady close for a long kiss, and for a moment, everything seemed right in the world.

  How long they stood there, wrapped in the warmth of their love, he didn’t know.

  Travis thought of nothing but the woman in his arms.

  He slanted another kiss across her lips and took a long drink of the sweet nectar he’d missed all these months. God, he loved the taste of her. Loved kissing her. She was everything he wanted.

  But she was pale and thinner. Had she caught something?

  “I told you to forget me and go on with your life, but I’m mighty glad you waited.”

  “I had nothing to go on for.” She laid a hand on his face. “You’re all I wanted.”

  He was home, and Rebel was in his arms. She was the woman he’d give up everything he owned to spend one more night with. Two years ago, she’d first captured his attention in the Wildcat Saloon in Cimarron, and he’d been unable to take his eyes off her. Her flashing green eyes and lush, midnight waterfall of dark hair had filled his dreams then, and her bold kisses sent fire to his belly now. She excited him in ways no other woman ever had.

  Finally, he raised his head. “Let’s get out of here. I have a lot to tell you.”

  He tucked her securely at his side, but they were besieged the moment they stepped outside. It seemed everyone in town had gathered. They clapped, then Clay strode to hug him. “Welcome home, brother.”

  When Clay stepped aside, Jack took his place, then Ridge, and one by one, the other men and women told him how worried they’d been, and how nice it was to have him back.

  Travis laughed and winked at Rebel. “You’d think I was a prodigal child and had taken off of my own volition to wander aimlessly.”

  A child’s yells split the air, and Jenny came running with Ely beside her. “Mr. Travis!”

  He scooped Jenny up. The two orphaned siblings had endured more in their short lives than most adults. He wanted to give them everything they’d been denied. Come hell or high water, this Christmas would be the best he could possibly make it.

  “God, I’ve missed all of you!” His gaze moved from the children to Rebel, and he reached for her hand. “Let’s find some privacy.”

  Six

  The soddy looked like the best thing Travis had seen in months. He knocked the snow off his boots and stepped inside. He removed his hat and hung it with his coat, then moved to the table where Rebel told him about the storm and the broken window while she scurried around making coffee. Her flushed face and heated glances told him she had some time to make up in mind. He propped his elbows on the smooth wood, his eyes on the woman who filled his world.

  Her hair curled over her shoulders and spilled down her back, hanging to her slim waist. He was finally home.

  Jenny patted his arm. “Mr. Travis, we missed you real bad.”

  “I missed you too, honey.” He lifted her into his lap. “Tell me what’s been happening.”

  “Well, Billy Truman is an old meanie, and he fights with Ely.”

  Travis ruffled Ely’s hair. A slow grin crossed the boy’s face. “That true?” Travis asked quietly.

  Ely sat silent, running a finger across the wood grains of the table.

  “That mean, ol’ Billy Truman called you a no-account killer, Mr. Travis,” Jenny huffed, evidently tired of waiting for her brother to reply.

  “That true, Ely?”

  “Yeah.” The boy uttered the word so softly that it was difficult to hear.

  Travis’s stomach clenched. He’d always known this was coming but hadn’t expected to bring his sorry past to bear on these kids so soon.

  “Listen, Ely. You don’t have to defend me. I can do that myself.” Travis put a hand on his shoulder. “Fighting isn’t any way to settle a score. You beat an opponent by outthinking and outsmarting him, not with your fists. Words hurt sometimes, but words are all they are, all they’ll ever be, unless you give them power by using your fists.”

  Ely glanced up. “Did you ever get so mad you had to hit something?”

  “I used to fight a lot until a wise old man took me aside. You know what he said?”

  “No.”

  “He said never to wrestle with a pig. It’ll only get you dirty, and besides, the pig likes a fight. I think this Billy enjoys tussling.”

  A tiny smile tried to curve Ely’s mouth. “Yeah, that’s because his brothers always make him eat a lot of dirt. Thanks, Mr. Travis.”

  “I don’t like big pigs.” Jenny wrinkled her freckled nose. “I only like the cute babies.”

  “You know, I like the babies, too. They’re cuddly.” Travis kissed her cheek. “Like you.”

  Jenny leaned back to look up. “Are we throwaways?”

  The question caught Travis off guard. “No, honey, of course not.”

  “Billy said we were.” Jenny’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t wanna be thrown away.”

  Clearly, Billy Truman was a troublemaker who liked to jab, opening wounds.

  Travis wiped Jenny’s eyes. These children were starved for attention. He meant to give them all they could stand in the coming days. “Don’t worry. It’ll never happen as long as I’m alive.”

  Jenny snuggled against him. “And Billy called Ely a dummard, too, and made Ely real mad.”

  A muscle in Travis’s jaw worked. “Why did Billy say that?”

  Anger crossed Ely’s face. “’Cause I’m dumb. Arithmetic is hard. I just can’t do it.”

  “I’ll work with you on that. All right? You’re not dumb. You just need a little more time to catch on and someone to help you figure it out. I’m here now, and we’ll get it.”

  “I hate school.”

  “I didn’t especially like it either when I was your age,” Travis confessed. “But I’m glad I toughed it out and learned how to get by in the world. It’s bad when you can’t. I’ve seen grown men unable to write their name, and it embarrasses the heck out of them.”

  Rebel had a bout of coughing that worried Travis. “Are you all right?”

  “It’s nothing.” She waved her hands as though shooing it away. “I’m fine.”

  Maybe he was making more out of it than it was, but that was because he loved her so much.

  A few minutes later, she slid a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. Travis relished the brush of her hand against his. After seven long months, the sparks still sizzled.

  Her lazy smile held a promise of soft sheets and long wintry nights.

  He grinned over the cup. “What about you, Miss Rebel? Any news?”

  She sat and, with his hand in hers, to
ld him about needing Christmas spirit and the wooden Advent calendar Tobias was making. “We lit the first candle in church today, and we open the first door of the calendar tomorrow. I hope the children will stop fighting.”

  “Sometimes they just need an outlet for worry and making sense of things.” Travis tucked a strand of beautiful hair behind her ear.

  After soaking up his fill of male companionship for the moment, Ely went back to his loft. The boy seemed better settled. Travis’s heart went out to him. Ely had a lot to overcome.

  A few moments later, Jenny got down from his lap and wandered off, leaving Travis alone with his love.

  Rebel caressed his jaw. “I’ve been out of my mind imagining all sorts of things. I thought they surely must’ve hung you. Do I need to hide you?”

  “Nope.” He kissed her fingers. “I’m free. At least for the crime of stage robbery. Funny thing, the one they charged me with was one I didn’t do. I had the damnedest lawyer, though. He put on a real show in the courtroom. Pulled his gun and fired into the ceiling a couple of times. Scared the jurors, and they dove under their chairs. The judge, too.” He nuzzled her neck.

  She tipped her head back to give him greater access. “He sounds like a character.”

  “For a fact. He scared the witnesses so bad that they all left town, and the judge had no option but to dismiss the case.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Rebel frowned. “But will they come to drag you back later?”

  “Nope.” Travis grinned. “You want to hear something funny? For a while, they thought I was Brushy Tom Oliver. It seemed in my best interest to play the part, since Brushy only had one charge against him, but they got that straightened out pretty quick.” He pushed back her hair and kissed behind her ear. “You don’t know how often I dreamed of you in the dead of night, thinking of being back here, kissing you, making love. I missed you, pretty lady.”

  “I ached for you with every fiber of my being.” Rebel’s voice trembled with emotion, and he knew what a toll this waiting had taken on her.

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think sitting in my cell, and I have something in mind.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s get married on Christmas Day.”

  Shock rippled across her face. “Married? You still want to marry me?”

  “Is that so farfetched?”

  “Oh, Travis!” Rebel jerked from her chair and landed in his lap, her arms around his neck. “You don’t know how happy this makes me.” Her breasts pressed against his chest, and she planted a kiss on his lips.

  A second later, she drew back to stare. “But that’s just a little over four weeks off! And I gave Eleanor Crump the red satin fabric I’d been saving. I don’t have anything to make a dress.”

  “Don’t sound so flustered, darlin’. I don’t care if you wear a sack. I just want to make you my wife.”

  “I’d just as soon stand before the preacher tomorrow.” She pouted. “I don’t want to wait.”

  “Nope, Christmas. Anticipation will make it all the sweeter.” He tweaked the tip of her nose.

  Rebel sighed. “You drive a very hard bargain, but I see a glimmer of gold at the end.”

  “When did Hope’s Crossing get a church? I thought I was seeing things.”

  “Right after the bounty hunter took you, a man of the cloth named Pastor Paul rode into town along with a schoolmaster, Todd Denver. After the lumber arrived, it took no time to build the church, which doubles as a school.” Rebel lowered her eyes. “I wasn’t sure they’d welcome someone like me.”

  “They damn sure better, or I’ll have something to say,” Travis growled.

  She put two fingers on his lips. “Let me finish, sweetheart. No one said a word. They don’t treat me any different from the other women. It’s this town. We all come from a stained past. You and the other men are outlaws. Some of the women are a product of an asylum, and others like me made a living in smoke-filled saloons and dingy rooms. No one is better than anyone else.”

  “Except apparently this Billy Truman. Maybe I should speak to his parents.”

  Rebel shook her head. “The Trumans are good, decent people.” She told him about the family of ten boys and how they were running wild these days. “Martha, bless her heart, doesn’t feel up to chasing after them, and Sid is gone all the time.”

  “Then it’s up to us men to fill in.” He scratched his stubbled jaw in thought.

  “We hope having the children make gifts for one another will help.”

  Travis gave her a look of admiration. One thing he loved about Rebel was her quick mind. Maybe that came from the hard life she’d lived in the rough town of Cimarron, where killings were a daily occurrence. He wanted to make her forget all that and put new memories in her pretty head.

  Nothing about her was ordinary or would ever be. He hadn’t thought much of his chances with her, being younger and all, but they’d hit it off. Rebel Avery had a lot more experience in everything, while he only knew one thing well—how to draw and shoot in a split second. Nothing else. Way he saw it, the beauty was way too good for someone like him.

  Another thing. While most of the women wore high-necked dresses, she left hers unbuttoned above the swell of her breast. His heart beat faster. Tonight, he’d take his time showing her how much she meant to him and how lost and alone he’d be without her.

  She was the woman he loved for now and forever.

  He brought his thoughts back to the Truman boys. “I think us men might have a few ideas of our own. We’ll keep those kids so busy they won’t have time to wipe their noses or think about causing hell. You say there’s ten of them?”

  “Yes, but sometimes it seems more like double that. They range in age from twelve to two, and Martha has another baby just about due. We’re all praying she gets her girl.”

  Travis chuckled softly. “I can see why.”

  Rebel rose to get the pot and refilled his cup. He was afraid to blink for fear this was all a dream.

  * * *

  Rebel soaked up the sight of Travis. She loved the corded muscles along his forearms and the cleft in his chin that deepened when he smiled, but it was his blue eyes, the shade of deep, still water that never failed to set her blood pumping. Some might not think him a handsome man, and maybe he wasn’t the best-looking with his hard, angular jawline and high cheekbones. But she’d seen his caring, his commitment, and real love shining on his face. He was perfect in her eyes.

  They were going to be married on Christmas Day! Her stomach flipped over.

  She leaned forward and ran her fingertips over the stubble marking his jaw. Heat darkened his eyes, and his breathing roughened.

  “You don’t know how much I want you, Rebel.”

  “Kiss me, Travis.”

  He reached for her and, with the ease of a man used to working with his hands, lifted her onto his lap and claimed her lips. His touch sent her thoughts whirling and hunger overpowering her senses.

  Rebel slid an arm around his neck, her fingers tangling in his dark-blond hair. She lost all track of time and space.

  The man she loved was home, and loneliness and worry would no longer hammer her night and day.

  The sound of the children moving about in the other room finally penetrated her senses, and she stood, straightening her hair. “Goodness, look at the time. I have supper to get.”

  The clear hunger for something more than food shining in Travis’s eyes made her stomach quicken. “I wouldn’t mind missing it to keep holding you.”

  “I think the children might protest.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “Now, let me cook.”

  “Not just yet.” He called the children, and they sat at the table. “Miss Rebel and I have some news—we’re going to get married.”

  “For true?” Ely asked.

  Rebel laughed. “Yes, on Christmas Day.�
��

  Jenny squealed and scrambled into Travis’s lap. “We can be a fam’ly?”

  “Yes. A real family.” Travis hugged the four-year-old.

  Ely sat silent, watching.

  “What’s the matter? Aren’t you happy, Ely?” Rebel asked.

  “Does this mean our last name will be Lassiter?”

  Rebel met Travis’s troubled gaze and imagined he was wondering what grief he’d saddle the children with. “How would you feel about that, sweetheart?”

  “I’d like it just fine, but I reckon the kids can choose whatever name they want.” Travis’s gaze swung to Ely. “Would you like to take my name, son?”

  The boy’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t want to be Carver anymore. Our daddy threw us away because he didn’t want us, so I reckon we’ll throw him away. I’ll be Ely Lassiter now.”

  “An’ I’ll be Jenny Lass’ter.” The child twisted her hair. “Is that hard to spell?”

  “I’ll teach you, pretty girl,” Travis assured her.

  This was all well and good, but Rebel didn’t know how one went about changing a name. Did it cost money? The nearest lawyer would probably be in Tascosa or Springer. She’d do anything, make any sacrifice to give these children a happier future. Lord knows, the Carver name had brought nothing but horror and despair.

  “Good. Now that that’s settled, I’ll start supper.”

  And what a meal she prepared with her limited larder! They celebrated Travis’s return, and even the snow stopped. The four of them sat around the table talking long after she finished the supper dishes. Travis told about his adventures as a boy in the swamps of Louisiana, but no mention was made of time spent recently in a Texas jail.

  After they’d eaten, a knock came on the door. Rebel opened it. “Nora, how nice to see you. Come in.”

  Nora stepped inside. “I just wanted to see if you’d like me to keep Jenny and Ely overnight. You two have some…talking…to do.”

  Rebel laughed at the underlying meaning. “Yes, we do. I’ll get them ready. Thank you.”