by Marin Thomas
If he’d been even one year older, she would have felt really guilty about depriving him of that.
But Bobby would be just as happy to open his gifts from his grandmother later today. She was going to call Olive in a few hours to tell her Bobby was miraculously better and could they drop in for a visit sometime this afternoon.
“Hey there, baby boy. Merry Christmas.” She released Bobby from the captivity of his crib, changed his diaper and dressed him in flannel-lined overalls and a thick fleecy sweater.
He squirmed throughout the process, having spotted the stocking she’d helped him hang on the doorknob—since they had no fireplace—the previous evening.
Last night he didn’t have a clue about the point behind what they were doing.
But he got it now.
“Toys!” he shouted, pointing at the stocking stuffed full with some picture books and socks and an inexpensive plastic truck.
“Just a minute, honey.” She did up the last clasp on his overalls, then let him go. He ran on his stiff toddler legs to the stocking and soon he had everything pulled out and scattered on the floor.
Winnie took some pictures, then set down the camera and went to look out the window.
It had snowed. Again.
What a long winter this was going to be.
But it was pretty. A blanket of mist lay over the creek for which the town was named, and the trees on the banks were frosted with snow. Beyond the creek, the fields sparkled with new whiteness below a cornflower-blue sky.
A perfect day to take Bobby for a ride on his sled. She better get dressed and feed her son his breakfast.
But when it came time to make the oatmeal, she discovered her microwave wasn’t working. Too tired to figure out what was wrong, she took Bobby down to the café, where she put on some coffee for herself, made Bobby his oatmeal and toasted some cinnamon buns.
She had a high chair for her customers, and she put Bobby in that, along with his sippy cup and some pieces of cinnamon bun for a treat. She spooned the oatmeal for her son, and was just about to pour herself a cup of coffee when a knock sounded on the front door.
What the heck? Who on earth expected the café to be open on Christmas morning?
Bobby’s eyes brightened. He loved visitors.
Slowly Winnie went to the door and peered through the frosted glass.
She opened the door and there he was. The one person she couldn’t admit she’d been hoping to see.
“Merry Christmas, Win.”
He looked good. Too good. But she missed the smile in his eyes.
“Going to let me in?”
She was just stepping aside when Bobby caught sight of him.
“Dada!” He clapped his hands and repeated the word six times or so for good measure.
Winnie cringed. Great timing, son.
But Jackson didn’t run this time. He plucked Bobby out of the high chair and up onto his broad shoulders. “Hey, buddy. Having a good Christmas?” He galloped around the café, as fast as a six-foot-tall man could gallop in such a confined space, and Bobby giggled—until he spotted his sippy cup and pointed to that.
Jackson returned her son to his chair and his partially eaten breakfast, then finally turned to her. “We need to talk.”
She nodded. “Would you like some coffee first?”
“That sounds great.”
“Okay.” She poured two mugs full, then put out some more cinnamon buns. Jackson slid onto the stool next to hers and took a sip.
“God, you make good coffee, Win.”
It had taken him long enough to figure that one out. She took a sip herself and fought back the urge to start talking. He had come here with something to say, and she was going to let him do it.
Jackson combed his dark hair with one hand. He studied the ceiling, then the floor, and finally he looked at her squarely.
She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. She knew putting his feelings into words wasn’t easy for him.
But he had to do it.
“I’m sorry I hurt you when I ran off that morning. I thought I was over feeling guilty about Brock, but obviously I wasn’t.”
“So why are you here now?” She was afraid to get her hopes up. But it had to mean something, the way he’d gone to Bobby so easily, not seeming to mind this time that her son, for some reason, wanted to call him daddy.
“Corb and I had a good talk a while ago about Brock. He didn’t say anything I hadn’t heard before, but somehow the message got through this time. And it helped, it really did.”
“I’m glad, Jackson.” Whatever had happened between the two of them, she didn’t want him living the rest of his life with a burden of guilt that he didn’t deserve.
“Then yesterday, at Christmas Eve dinner—when you weren’t there—I was pretty disappointed.”
She glanced at her son, who had somehow worked the lid off his sippy cup and was now dunking the cinnamon bun bits into his juice. “I thought it would be easier—for both of us—if I stayed away.”
“Did you know Olive invited Maddie? And Vince?”
She nodded. “Laurel told me.”
“They didn’t talk that much. But I saw the secret looks that passed between them when they thought the other one wouldn’t notice. I think they really loved each other.”
“That’s sad.”
“It’s more than sad. It’s tragic. And it got me thinking...” He moved closer, taking her hands and pulling her up so he could look more deeply into her eyes. “I don’t want to be sixty years old, looking back on a life I spent alone, when I could have been with you.”
“Jackson?” Was this really happening? Did she dare put her faith in the words he was saying?
“Which brings me to the main reason I’m here this morning.”
“And that is...” She could feel the connection between them, like a physical bond. More than the contact of their hands and eyes, it was something of the spirit. Of the soul.
“Because I love you. Win, I loved you the first time I saw you. It wasn’t right then, but it is right now. That is, if you—”
“I do, Jackson. I love you, too.”
They moved together, kissing tenderly. Jackson stroked the back of her head, her cheek, then finished with a light kiss on her forehead. For Winnie the moment felt fragile, like a delicate layer of frost on the branch of a tree. The slightest breeze might spoil everything.
“I want to believe this is real.”
“It is. Absolutely.” Jackson took her hand and pressed it to his heart. “This is yours. All yours.” He grinned. “And Bobby’s, too, of course.”
“You didn’t seem to mind him calling you daddy this time.”
“I was honored. I’m going to try to be to Bobby what Bob Lambert was to me.”
Her doubts fell away then. She could feel in her heart that something had changed in Jackson. He’d grown more sure of himself, more solid. He would be the pillar she needed. The pillar she and Bobby both needed.
She kissed him again, telling him with her eyes and her actions how deeply he was loved and needed. And when she pulled back, he gave her an excited grin.
“I have a Christmas surprise. It’s back at Silver Creek. Will you come with me?”
As if there was any doubt.
* * *
THE DOGS GREETED them at the door when Winnie and Jackson arrived thirty minutes later. It hadn’t taken Winnie long to pack a bag for her son, tucking in a gift she hadn’t been able to resist buying for Jackson.
Just in case, she’d thought at the time. Which only proved that sometimes it paid to be an optimist.
“So what’s the big surprise?” She was glad for the warmth of the big stove as she pulled off Bobby’s snowsuit and boots and then her own winter wear.<
br />
“Be patient,” Jackson teased. “Would you like coffee? Tea?”
“Maybe later.” On the drive over he’d explained that Maddie had been so worn out by the Christmas Eve festivities last evening that Olive had insisted she spend the night. “Should we call and see how Maddie is doing?”
But Jackson was already reaching for his phone and a few seconds later he was connected. “Hey, Cassidy, Merry Christmas.”
The room was quiet enough that Winnie could hear her answer. “Same to you, Jackson. You should come over. Farley and I are whipping up a marvelous brunch.”
“Maybe later. I wanted to check on Maddie. Is she okay?”
“Much better this morning. She and Mom are sitting by the fireplace gabbing like two sisters who haven’t seen each other in almost forty years.”
Jackson grinned. “Which is what they are.”
“Yeah. But it’s pretty amazing to witness.”
Winnie felt moisture gather in her eyes at the thought. The sisters’ reconciliation was the best Christmas gift the Lambert family could have hoped for.
“I’m glad, Cass.”
Winnie could tell by his voice that he was moved, too. He ended his call then and gave her a big hug.
She squeezed him back with all her might.
“Okay, now that we know Maddie’s all right, it’s time to show you your surprise.” He scooped Bobby up on his shoulder, then took her by the hand.
“Where are we going?”
“I remember touring you around the barn, but we never made it to the house. You’ve seen the dining room and the sitting room,” he said as he walked through each. Then he opened a door off a short hall. “This is Maddie’s room.”
Winnie took a short peek, then they went up a curving set of stairs. Four doors led off from a spacious landing.
“I’ve been doing some renovations lately. I was working on a list that you once gave me.”
Her heart skipped. Was he serious? She held her breath as he opened the first door.
“This was once a spare bedroom.”
The room was now painted a cheery yellow. There were empty shelving units on one wall. A pint-size sofa sat against another wall. And a tiny table and chair, made for kids, was in the center.
Bobby squirmed to be let down, and as soon as Jackson did so, he planted himself in the chair, looking terribly pleased with himself.
A playroom for Bobby...
She looked at Jackson, speechless with amazement.
Jackson fastened the child gate that had been installed at the top of the stairs, then took her hand and led her to the next room. It was empty, but freshly painted the same color as Bobby’s room back at her apartment.
A good-size bedroom for Bobby...
She let her hand trail over the smooth walls. The room was at least double the size of the one they’d made in her apartment.
They went across the hall then, to the bathroom, where Jackson had also made some improvements. A new pedestal sink and, more importantly...a big tub for soaking.
There was a picture window across from the tub with a perfect view of Square Butte Mountain.
She squeezed his hand. “This is beautiful.”
The next door led to the largest bedroom of all. “This is where I’ve been sleeping. But I converted an old sewing room into this. He opened two French doors and stepped back to let her see.
A walk-in closet.
“The house still needs a lot of work. As you can tell, the kitchen is original.”
“I love that old kitchen. And I love you, too. You must have worked so hard to get all this done so fast.”
“I was motivated.”
She hugged him, then laughed. “It seems like you’re trying to ask me something here.”
“Going about it kind of ass-backward, aren’t I? But will you marry me, Winnie Hays? Marry me and come to live on Silver Creek Ranch?”
“I will. And I promise you something. Together we’re going to make this ranch into something special. We’ll make Maddie Turner proud.” She winked. “We may even give Coffee Creek Ranch a run for their money one day....”
Jackson whooped, circling his hands around her waist and twirling her in the air. Bobby came running then, curious and maybe a little frightened by all the ruckus. Jackson whisked him up and gave him the happy news.
“We’re going to be a family, Bobby.”
“Mine,” Bobby said, matter-of-factly.
Could he possibly understand? No, he was much too young.
“When should we have the wedding?” She felt a little nervous just asking the question. The specter of the wedding-that-wasn’t would loom heavily in her mind until she was officially Jackson’s wife.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like it to happen quickly, so Maddie can be there.”
“Yes. And let’s make it small, just family.”
He nodded. “Would December 31 be too fast?”
“As long as my parents can book some flights, I can’t imagine a better way to bring in the new year.”
* * *
THEY ENDED UP having the ceremony at Coffee Creek Ranch. Because the house was larger. Because the river rock fireplace would look great in the photos. And because Olive insisted.
“She never really changes, does she?” Winnie whispered to Jackson on the day they got together to plan the event.
“She’s like a creek in the springtime. As long as you go with flow, it’s all good.”
Winnie laughed, because for the moment, going with the flow was fine with them both. All they wanted was to seal their commitment in front of family and friends. The menu and decor hardly mattered.
And yet Olive made it all perfect.
At seven o’clock on the evening of December 31, Winnie took a minute to think of Brock. Then she set aside that sadness and focused on her future.
With the help of Bonny and Eugenia, Olive had set up an elegant buffet in the dining room. The ceremony was to take place by the fireplace in candlelight. There were dozens of vanilla-scented pillar candles and glass bowls of pale pink roses.
“Ready, sweetheart?” Jackson, so handsome and fine in his one and only suit, held out his arm.
And she clung to it.
Together they walked down the hall toward the family room, entering it together.
And suddenly Winnie’s nerves were gone, swept away by happiness as she saw the beloved faces of their family and friends.
Winnie’s parents stood on one side of the enormous fireplace, along with Corb, Laurel, Stephanie and Bobby.
In the armchair was Maddie, with Vince planted on one side and Farley, Cassidy and Sky seated at the floor by her feet.
Olive, dressed to the nines, as usual, was by the Christmas tree, which hadn’t dared to dry out under her strict orders. She had her hand tucked into the arm of her eldest son. Savannah and her sister, Regan, were on B.J.’s other side.
Winnie smiled at all of them, then turned her gaze to the cowboy by her side.
The ceremony was short. Sweet. In ten minutes it was done. They were married.
In the distance, the coyotes howled. Maybe at the full moon. Maybe in approval.
Because if there was one thing Winnie had learned in the past eighteen months, it was that life was a precious gift. And she had every intention of making the most of hers and Jackson’s and the family they would have together.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from HER WYOMING HERO by Rebecca Winters.
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Chapter One
July 10
Bar Harbor, Maine
Kit read the letter postmarked from Wyoming one more time, positive it had been sent to her by mistake. The honor to her deceased marine husband thrilled her, but didn’t make sense.
Dear Mrs. Wentworth,
My name is Carson Lundgren. You don’t know me from Adam. I served as a marine in Afghanistan before I got out of the service.
When we returned to the U.S., I, along with Buck Summerhays and Ross Livingston, fellow retired marines, went into business at the Teton Valley Dude Ranch. Our idea was to offer what we could to the families of the fallen soldiers from our various units.
Your courageous husband, Winston Pettigrew Wentworth, served our country with honor and distinction. Now we’d like to honor him by offering you and your son Andrew an expense free, one week vacation at the dude ranch anytime in August. We’ll pay for your airfare and any other travel expenses.
You’re welcome to contact your husband’s division commander, Colonel Hodges, at the phone number below. His office helped us obtain your address. If you’re interested and have questions, please call our office. We’ve also listed our web address, where you’ll find a brochure with more details about the ranch. We’ll also be happy to email you any additional information.
Please know how anxious we are to give something back to you after his great sacrifice.
With warmest regards,
Carson Lundgren.