The Christmas Bride - A Western Romance Novella (Book 4, Burnett Brides Series)

by Sylvia McDaniel

  “This is why men don’t belong in the birthing room,” she said under her breath.

  “Is he all right?” Sarah cried in between short breaths.

  “He’s fine,” Eugenia said, her focus on her daughter-in-law and her new grandchild. Her son would be fine once he awoke. “Come on, Sarah, one more push and this baby will be here. Push hard.”

  Sarah screamed as she pushed, and the baby slid into the hands of its grandmother.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s a girl! A baby girl,” Eugenia cried, holding the infant in her arms. “A sweet, precious, baby girl.”

  Rose handed her a damp cloth, and she wiped off the infant’s face. The baby began to howl in protest, screaming, her eyes glued tightly shut, her arms and legs flailing.

  Eugenia began to cry, her eyes flooding with tears as she gazed on her fourth grandchild. “Another granddaughter. She’s beautiful.”

  A moan came from the floor, and Tucker raised up. “What happened?”

  Realizing what was going on, he jumped to his feet. “Did I miss it?”

  Eugenia wrapped up the crying baby and handed her to Tucker. “Show your wife your new child while I deliver the afterbirth and clean Sarah up.

  A few minutes later, Rose and Eugenia walked out of the room, leaving the couple to enjoy a few minutes alone with their new daughter.

  When Eugenia stepped out into the living room, Travis and Tanner looked at them expectantly, and she burst into tears. The last few days caught up with her, and she sat down in a chair and cried.

  Rose smiled and told the waiting men. “Baby and mother are fine. Eugenia brought her new granddaughter into the world. We’re giving the new parents a few minutes alone to get acquainted with their daughter.”

  #

  Several hours later, Eugenia sat in the bedroom watching the baby suckle at Sarah’s breast.

  “Dammit, Mother!” Tucker exclaimed quietly. “You won’t even let us pay you respect by naming the baby after you and Sarah’s mother.”

  “I’m not sticking my beautiful granddaughter with my name. You may choose my middle name, but please do not give her the name Eugenia. I appreciate what you’re doing, but I love this child too much to saddle her with this monstrosity. . She would hate me.”

  Sarah laughed from the bed, gazing with love at her baby daughter. “Thank you, Eugenia. I love you, but your name is a mouthful. It sounds more like a country than a woman’s name.”

  “See, my daughter-in-law appreciates me. Ellen Marie would be a lovely name for my granddaughter.”

  Tucker gazed at his wife, and she smiled at him and nodded her head. “I think it’s lovely.”

  He ran his hand over his daughter’s fuzzy head. “Welcome to the world, Ellen Marie. Please don’t inherit your grandmother's stubbornness, or we could have problems. I’m your daddy, and I’m the marshal, so listen up.”

  The baby snuggled in closer to Sarah, her mouth all pouty after her feeding.

  “Thank you for naming her after me. It means so much to me that I delivered my granddaughter and was the first one to see her sweet, precious face,” Eugenia said, her emotions bubbling to the surface like a hot apple pie.

  A day that had started out wonderful and turned harrowing was once again beautiful. It would forever be memorable. This granddaughter’s birthday would be remembered as the day that Wyatt ended their relationship, and that left Eugenia sad until the baby arrived.

  It was a mixed blessings kind of day.

  “Will you stay here a few days and help Sarah until she’s feeling better?” Tucker asked.

  Eugenia smiled. She needed something to keep her busy and her mind off her loss. Sarah and the baby would be a welcome distraction.

  “Of course, I will. The Christmas play is the day after tomorrow on Christmas Eve. I’d be glad to help out,” she said, suddenly dreading the play. The idea of seeing Wyatt again made her chest ache. She missed him. Tears pricked her eyes, and she swallowed, holding them back.

  Sarah glanced at her husband. “Did you tell your mother we invited Wyatt to Christmas dinner?”

  Oh no! How could she see him again without crying?

  Eugenia’s chest and lungs squeezed tightly at the sound of his name and the possibility he would come to dinner.

  Tucker shook his head. “He declined. Said thank you, but he couldn’t come.”

  She wanted to see him. She missed him. She wanted to tell him about baby Ellen. She wanted to tell him about Sarah. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and kiss him until they were both breathless.

  Eugenia stood. “It’s just as well the old coot doesn’t come. He would have eaten all the turkey.”

  She walked out of the room, her eyes watering, her vision filled with tears that seemed to spring out of nowhere. Why was she so emotional these past few days? Every little thing made her cry.

  There was a restlessness in her soul that wouldn’t let go. She felt bereft, as if she’d lost her best friend. And she had. She’d lost Wyatt.

  #

  The night of the Christmas Eve play was bitterly cold with the wind howling out of the north and sending the parishioners hurrying into the warm church.

  Wyatt stood in the door wishing everyone a merry Christmas as they entered the building, avoiding the back where the children were lining up for the play. If he went back there, he’d see Eugenia, and he needed to avoid her as much as possible.

  After the days of lovemaking, the pain of her rejection was enough to convince him that maybe he should rethink his decision to remarry. Maybe he wasn’t meant for marriage. Maybe he should stay alone.

  He smiled at the people streaming into the church, and when everyone was seated, he went to check on the wise men. When he entered the curtained off area away from the other kids, he found them slipping on their robes.

  “Okay guys, does everyone remember their lines?”

  They nodded.

  “You guys look ready,” he said, thinking only one more hour and this would all be behind him.

  “My stomach hurts,” Frank said. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

  The kid’s face was chalky white and pale. He couldn’t get sick. It had to be a bad case of nerves.

  “No, you’re going to be fine, Frank. It’s nerves. When you get out there, don’t look at the people in the audience. Just look at the other players. You’ll do great,” Wyatt reassured the boy.

  Suddenly the kid began to make retching noises, and Wyatt grabbed a bucket and put it under the child and leaned him over.

  “It's okay, son. Just relax.”

  The boy finished throwing up just about the time that Eugenia threw open the curtain. “What’s wrong?”

  “Frank is feeling a little puny. But you’re okay now, right boy?”

  The youngster coughed. “Yes, sir. I feel better.”

  Eugenia looked at Frank and then at Wyatt. In the space of that look, he wanted to grab her and cover her mouth with his. He wanted to remind her of the love they’d experienced, but instead he looked at Frank, keeping his distance.

  “You’re going to be okay?” Eugenia asked the child.

  “It’s just a bad case of nerves, and he has it under control now. Right, Frank?”

  “I’m okay,” the boy said, smiling.

  “Good. Everyone needs to take their places,” Eugenia said, rushing off.

  Wyatt watched her walk away and felt like part of his heart went with her. He patted Frank on the arm. “You sure you’re going to make it?”

  The boy grinned. “I think so.”

  “Then let’s get the wise men lined up.”

  The music started, and the narrator began to read the story of Christmas. Wyatt stood right inside the curtain where he could watch the play but also keep an eye on the children. Eugenia was directing, but this way he could see everything without being close to her. He had to keep his distance. He had to protect his heart. He had to give her what she wanted even when he didn’t want to.

  Mary and Jo
seph came out riding a live borrowed donkey, and soon they were ensconced in the barn. And then magically a baby appeared in Mary’s arms, and the story went on. The angels went on stage next and finally the wise men.

  All of the children were on stage except for Wyatt’s three wise-ass boys. The play would soon be over, and his involvement with Eugenia would draw to a close. He could rest easy knowing that this would be behind him.

  Sure, they’d see each other in town, but keeping his distance would be easier.

  “Wyatt?” Eugenia said, coming up next to him.

  “Yes?” he whispered, refusing to look at her. He was not going to give her the time of day if possible. He had to protect his heart.

  “I want to apologize for the other day.”

  “No apologies are necessary,” he said, still refusing to look at her.

  “I don’t feel right about what happened between us,” she said. “Please, can we talk about this after the program?”

  He shook his head, his heart splintering. He wanted nothing more than to say yes, but until she agreed to marry him, there was nothing more to say.

  “No. All the talking has been done. I’m going home afterwards.”

  “Oh,” she said, seeming surprised. “So, I guess it’s over then.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I believe it is,” he said, still watching the play, not looking at her. Inside, his chest was cracking like ice in spring, fracturing and splintering to pieces. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and tell her that he didn’t want it to end. He wanted their life together to be beginning.

  A trumpet announced the arrival of the wise men bearing gifts for the new born child, and the donkey brayed wildly. The jackass butted Joseph, sending him into Mary and the baby before running across the stage, his eyes frantic as he searched for an exit. He clomped down the steps and out the back of the church.

  For a moment, Wyatt was stunned and so were the children. The audience roared until Frank began to sing “We Three Kings” and the choir joined him as they sang the song.

  “Excuse me, I have to go find an ass,” Wyatt said, grateful for any reason to escape Eugenia.

  #

  After the play, the family gathered at Sarah and Tucker’s home. The new baby slept soundly. The other children were running around excited, eagerly awaiting Santa Claus.

  Her sons and their wives were sitting on the couch talking and she watched them, happy to see her boys and their families together celebrating the holidays. They were married, and they were happy. She had grandchildren. So why did she feel so sad?

  The Christmas play had been a success, even with the unhappy donkey. The children had presented her with a gift at the end. Still, she hadn’t felt the same fulfillment this year. Sure, she’d enjoyed working with the children, but after tonight’s performance, her chest felt heavy, and she knew why.

  Wyatt Jones. He’d barely looked in her direction today. He’d avoided her, and when she’d finally pinned him down, he’d told her they were done.

  She’d made her decision, and he was no longer pursuing. And now her heart was breaking at the finality of it all. Her chest ached with a loneliness she’d never experienced. How could she marry Wyatt? How could she let another man take control of her life again? How could she give him the power?

  “Mom, are you okay?” Travis asked.

  “I’m fine. Just sitting here thinking of Christmases past. And how blessed we are to have a new member of the family.”

  Yet even tonight, Wyatt had conceded the play to her when everyone asked about the production. Over and over again, she’d heard him tell everyone that he was just a helper, that she’d done it all.

  He’d even taken care of Frank when the boy had become ill and made sure that the wise men made it on stage.

  It suddenly occurred to her that Wyatt was a caregiver and Thomas had been a caretaker. The difference in the two men was that one was giving, and one was always taking.

  Could a man and a woman have a real partnership where they both gave and took? She glanced around at her sons and their wives. Is this what they were doing? Taking care of one another?

  “So tell me-in each of your families-who makes the decisions?” she suddenly asked.

  They looked at her as if she’d sprouted three heads. Finally Rose, who always seemed to understand her, said, “Travis and I make major decisions together. But I trust him to make decisions about the ranch since he knows cattle and I don’t. I guess you could say I trust him to take care of our family.”

  Travis nodded his head. “Rose is my wife, and I depend on her judgment. She sees things differently than I do, and she’s the person I turn to when I have doubts and don’t know what to do.”

  Beth smiled. “It’s the same with us. Tanner may be the husband, but we’re a team, and we make decisions together that will affect our family.”

  Tanner reached over and kissed her on the cheek. “My wife is my life, and I couldn’t imagine making a major decision without her support and love.”

  Sarah glanced down at the baby in her arms. “Since the day we married, we made a vow to each other to always work out our problems. Tucker helps me make decisions about my medical practice, and he knows I don’t want him to take any unnecessary risks in his job. We’re a family, and he may be the head, but I’m the neck, and I support the head.”

  Eugenia laughed at the way her medical doctor daughter-in-law phrased her response.

  Tucker smiled at his wife and kissed the top of their baby’s head. “I just do what my wife tells me to do because it makes her happy.”

  They all laughed, and Eugenia felt a piercing in her chest. Her children had done so much better than she had at this love thing. They were happy, and they had good spouses that she’d helped pick. They were married couples who worked together. What did she have?

  “Mom, did you and Dad work together like us?” Tanner asked.

  She laughed at the idea of her and Thomas working together. Their life had been good, but they’d never been a team. “No. If he were still alive, our marriage would be different. But I think the reason I can say that is because I’m not the woman he married. I’m so much stronger. I look around at my daughters-in-law, and I’m so grateful you married my sons. You’re strong, vibrant women who won’t let my boys get away with not working as a family, and I admire that in all of you.”

  Rose stared at Eugenia. “You could have that, too.”

  Eugenia stopped and considered her words.

  “I think if you gave Wyatt even half a chance, he would give you the world, but not insist on his way all the time. As long as he was by your side, he’d be happy,” Rose said quietly.

  Eugenia loved this girl who’d never had a family life of her own until Travis.

  Rose looked at her. “Or would you rather spend the rest of your life alone? Never experiencing the love you obviously wanted for your children?”

  Eugenia stopped. Was that true?

  Why wasn’t she taking this chance? Did she want to live the rest of her life alone? Why couldn’t she let go of the past and give Wyatt a chance? Why was she letting Thomas keep her from finding love again?

  They said people died from broken hearts. Now she understood why. Now she knew the true meaning of love. She put her head in her hands.

  “Mom?” Travis asked and put his hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m the biggest damn fool. I let a good man get away from me.”

  #

  Christmas morning Wyatt sat drinking coffee, reading a book while he waited for the men to gather for Christmas lunch. Since his wife’s death, they gathered in the barn to celebrate, and the cook made lunch for everyone.

  This morning he sat wondering what Eugenia was doing, his heart filled with sadness that she’d refused to see how their life together would have been good. That was the past, and he’d made the decision to move on, though it would take awhile to get back to normal. He doubted he could look at Eugenia again and not feel sadness t
hat she’d thrown away his love.

  He took a sip of coffee, hearing his hounds howling. The sun was shining bright, but the temperature was cold outside. This wasn’t a simple alert to warn off a varmint. No this was a warning. He stood and glanced out the window and saw two buggies coming down the lane.

  Burnett buggies. His heart started beating wildly, but his mind refused to give hope. What the hell was going on?

  He strode to the door and threw it open. The preacher was with them? Travis Burnett pulled the brake on the wagon and then helped his mother down. She reached back into the wagon and pulled something out.

  A casserole dish.

  For a moment, his heart stopped, and then she came to the door where he stood waiting while her family remained in the buggy.

  She stopped before him. “Merry Christmas, Wyatt.”

  “Merry Christmas, Eugenia,” he said, looking down at the dish, wondering if his old heart could take the disappointment if this didn’t mean what he hoped it meant.

  She stared at him, her blue eyes misty with tears.

  “What’s that?”

  “The last casserole any woman’s bringing you.”

  His heart was pounding so hard he almost felt faint. “That’s a great Christmas present, Eugenia. The best.”

  She held up her hand. “Let me say my piece.” She took a deep breath. “Sometimes I’m a stubborn woman who doesn’t know what she wants until she’s lost it. I had to learn to let go of the past and remember that I’m a different woman today than I was twenty-five years ago. I’m stronger. I’m better.”

  He nodded but didn’t say anything. She had to tell him. She had to say the words or there could be nothing.

  “If you promise me that our marriage would be a partnership with both of us making the decisions-neither one answering for the other-then I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “Oh, Eugenia,” he said, gathering her up in his arms and hugging her to his chest. “God, I never thought you would come to your damn senses.”

  Against his chest she said, “I love you, Wyatt Jones, and these last few days without you have been hard. I’ve missed you more than my next breath. Please tell me you still want to marry me.”