Christmas in Texas

by Tina Leonard

Seagal smiled at her, a slow, sexy smile that Capri tried to discourage with a frown. “What?” she demanded.

  “I was just wondering if that’s why you asked me out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Seagal turned to Kelly. “She’s right. Ask him out. What’s the worst that can happen? He says no.”

  “Exactly,” Kelly said, “and that will stink.”

  The babies were wheeled in and Capri sat up to gaze at her children. “Look how perfect they are,” she told Seagal.

  “They’re amazing,” Kelly said. “I can’t wait to be able to hold them.”

  “Auntie Kelly wants to hold you,” Capri told the twins. “Not to mention your parents do, too.”

  “Do they have names?” Kelly asked. “Not to rush you or anything, but as an aunt-in-waiting, I’d like to be able to call them something besides Baby Number One and Baby Number Two. I feel like I’m reading out of a Dr. Seuss book.”

  Capri looked at Seagal. “We haven’t talked about it yet. Since they came early, we hadn’t had a chance to debate names.”

  “Debate?” Seagal raised a brow.

  “Do we ever have a discussion without a debate?” Capri said. “I thought it was part of your nature to dissect every detail.”

  “Yeah, but not baby names.” Seagal grinned.

  “I’ll leave you two to discuss. I think the parking lot should be clear of Daisy by now. I do wish she wouldn’t ride that motorcycle around everywhere,” Kelly griped.

  “Better than a broom,” Capri said, and Seagal laughed.

  “You girls are mean.” He went over to look in the bassinets at his children. “I’m naming the girl Lila May.”

  “That’s…not happening,” Capri said.

  “And the debate begins. Goodbye, you two. Let me know what’s going on the birth certificates.”

  Kelly left the room, and Capri raised her brows. “Lila May sounds like a name a man picks when he wants the wife to do all the work.”

  Seagal shrugged. “Probably.” He reached out to touch his daughter. “She’s so tiny we’ll have to give her a big name to compensate.”

  “Why are men always concerned with compensating?” Capri asked, still nettled by feeling what she recognized as jealousy. “Do you have to look so happy every time Daisy shows up wearing a short skirt and a smile for you?”

  He sank back on the bed beside her. “It’s an ego boost. Not a love story.”

  Capri sniffed. “Still.”

  “The babies are getting restless,” Seagal said, glancing over at the bassinets. “Aren’t you supposed to feed them?”

  “I can’t with you in the room,” Capri said primly.

  “Oh.” Seagal nodded. “You want me to leave just when things are getting interesting.”

  “Breast milk is not interesting.”

  He looked hopeful. “There’s never a time a breast isn’t interesting.”

  Capri sighed. “Hand me Carter, Seagal, please.”

  He looked at her. “Carter?”

  “Can you do better?”

  “Sara and Carter West,” Seagal said, mulling the names. “I think it’ll work. Now, can we get on to the good stuff?” he said, handing her Carter.

  “Go,” Capri said.

  “I didn’t look under the sheet,” he reminded her. “I promise not to look at anything you don’t want me to.”

  It seemed mean to cast him out when he wanted so badly to be with his children. She thought about their impending divorce, and the fact that she still hadn’t read Seagal the riot act about poking around her shop for signs of trafficking. “I’m not happy with you,” she said.

  “Daisy means nothing to me,” Seagal said, reaching out to rest an arm around her shoulder. “Trust me, she didn’t the day you asked me out.”

  Capri stared into her husband’s eyes. His expression was so sincere, and it was true that Daisy threw herself at every man.

  Capri had thrown herself at Seagal, too. And she’d never regretted that, not even when they’d decided their marriage wasn’t going to work out.

  “This isn’t as exciting as you think it is,” she said. “It just involves a pump.”

  He grinned. “Sounding kinkier all the time, babe.”

  * * *

  “THE THING YOU HAVE to understand,” Seagal told Capri an hour later as he stretched out on the rollaway the nurse had brought in for him, “is that even if I could leave you on your own, I wouldn’t.”

  The babies had been taken back to the nursery. They weren’t allowed to be out of preemie care for very long, just long enough to let Capri express some breast milk while they were in the room. Then the nurses used her milk in the feeding tubes. Capri longed for the time when she could actually hold the babies to her breast.

  “What do you mean?” she asked Seagal, distracted by the sight of her husband stretched out on the bed, distracted by thinking about her babies, and distracted in general.

  “I’m with you for two reasons. One, a man needs his children. Two, I’m protecting you. Even if you were fully ambulatory and capable, there are outstanding reasons you need me.”

  Capri thought about bursting her husband’s bubble but decided against it. “I know you were snooping around in my shop, Seagal. It’s hard to trust you when I know you either don’t trust me, or don’t think I would know if someone was using my shop as a front for some kind of nefarious operation. I really don’t appreciate it.” She looked over the bed rail at him, annoyed. “So, did you find anything?”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing there. I think the floral arrangements were a random placement opportunity. I mean, the operation was planned to a T, but it was small-time and hardly professional, where something more sinister would be. I think we have a case of inside activity rearing its ugly head in Bridesmaids Creek.”

  “You think local people are involved and that it wasn’t an outside thing?”

  “Right. At first I was afraid we might have a cartel situation going on, or a developing gang. Because of the timing, I’m beginning to suspect that it was opportunistic because of the holidays. Only locals would know our traditions here.” He looked thoughtful. “As you know, not everybody in Bridesmaids Creek has the town’s best interests at heart. There are people here who don’t love the BC legend like most of us do.”

  “You left Bridesmaids Creek. I don’t remember you claiming to love it before.”

  “I always loved the town and its people. I wanted to move up, and that meant working in other departments in other places.” He looked thoughtful. “Opportunities to get promoted don’t come along all the time. I had to take advantage of what came my way.”

  It was true. She didn’t blame him for that. But there were moments and words she remembered that were painful.

  “I know you think I left you alone so much because I didn’t care about you, Capri. That was never the case.”

  “I wanted to believe it wasn’t,” she said softly.

  “Believe it,” Seagal said, his words clipped. “Maybe the timing wasn’t good.”

  “Probably not.” Capri sighed. The nights had been long. She’d been busy trying to take over her grandmother’s shop. “We didn’t talk a lot.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment. “We might have gotten married too soon.”

  After he and Daisy had broken up, were the unspoken words. Capri turned her head on her pillow, and put a hand on her stomach where the stitches tugged painfully. “Maybe.”<
br />
  “It felt right at the time.”

  Capri blinked away a tear. “I know.”

  Things hadn’t worked out. It wouldn’t matter in two weeks. They’d walk into the courthouse, talk to a judge, sign some papers and walk away with the babies as the only things that bound them.

  She didn’t want to think about it.

  “Anyway, we have two beautiful children,” Seagal said.

  She clicked out the light overhead, casting the room into darkness.

  “Capri?”

  “Yes?” She lay still, listening.

  “There was never another woman for me after our marriage.”

  She swallowed. “I know.”

  “What I’m trying to say is that I never thought about anybody else after you asked me out. I was gone a lot, but it was always about my job.”

  She knew he was telling the truth. Seagal was an honorable man. He would never have cheated on her.

  Even if he had still been in love with another woman. And that bothered her more than she could say.

  * * *

  TWO DAYS LATER, Seagal took Capri home. “Home sweet home,” he said.

  “It’s not a sweet home without the babies,” Capri said.

  “They’ll be here soon enough. They just need a few more days to acclimate.” Seagal helped Capri walk inside, smiling when she gasped at the sight of all the flower arrangements and fruit baskets piled in the living room. He’d crowded many of the gifts into the formal room, on top of the stuffed floral sofa, and near the white-mantled fireplace.

  Then Capri saw he’d put up a Christmas tree, and her eyes widened with delight—just as he’d hoped. “Oh, Seagal! Thank you!”

  She moved slowly to the fireplace, where he’d hung stockings her mother had brought over with the babies’ names on them. “These are darling! Carter and Sara,” she murmured, looking at the beautiful gilt-lettered red velvet stockings.

  “Your mom came by,” Seagal said. “She brought the stockings, helped me decorate the tree, put the wreaths on the doors. I was doing all right by myself, but I was glad when the cavalry arrived.”

  Capri smiled. “I don’t know when you had time to do this.”

  “I’m learning to be very organized.” He eased her toward her bedroom, but she glimpsed the tiny presents under the tree before he could.

  “What are those?”

  “Those are from Santa. They’re for the babies. Come on, Mama, let’s get you to bed. Doctor’s orders.”

  “What are they?” she asked, eying the tiny blue-and-pink-wrapped packages. There were three of them, one with a blue bow, one with pink and one with silver.

  “Santa didn’t tell me.”

  “You are Santa,” she said. “What did you buy the children?”

  He grinned. “Footballs.”

  She stared at him. “Footballs.”

  “What else does a dad get his brand-new babies? I can’t wait for them to come home so they can open them.”

  “They won’t open them, Seagal.”

  “It doesn’t matter. They’ll be here for them when they get home, and then they’ll be here when the babies are ready to play with me.”

  Capri’s expressions was adorably confused. “Footballs.”

  “Sure. A pink one for Sara and a regular one for Carter.”

  “Nerf or stuffed?”

  “Stuffed. Nice and soft, for their first catches.” He grinned. “Don’t feel left out. I got you one, too. But I’m not telling you what color yours is.”

  She glanced toward her box. “You got me a football.”

  “Was there something you would rather have had?”

  She shook her head. “I guess a football is fine.”

  “Good. Merry Christmas. Now, on to bed.” He herded her toward the hallway that led to the bedroom, but she kept glancing back toward the tree.

  “It’s beautiful, Seagal. Thank you so much for doing that. I didn’t feel like it was Christmas without the tree up. And I just ran out of time before I could get it put up.”

  “It’s not like you didn’t have anything better to do.” He finally got her into the hall—but he didn’t get her into her bedroom before she’d spied that the door to the nursery was closed.

  “Why is that door shut?” Capri demanded.

  “To keep the warm air out here in the hall,” Seagal said, knowing very well his quick-thinking wife wasn’t going to buy that lame excuse.

  She went to the nursery, pushing open the door. “Oh, my goodness!”

  It was a baby wonderland, if he did say so himself. He waited for Capri’s reaction to the amazing nursery that had bloomed in her absence.

  “Did you do all this?” she asked, moving into the room, gently running her hands over the two new white cribs.

  “The nursery I cannot take credit for. I wouldn’t know the first thing to buy babies.”

  “Footballs,” she said, smiling, moving to touch the soft blankets in each crib and the mobiles hanging overhead.

  “Okay, I wouldn’t know the first practical thing to buy babies. Mrs. Penny and your mother had a little baby shower in here. I guess that’s what you’d call it. The folks from the Boo in the Night Society, the Honeymoon Hotel, the Wedding Diner, Mosey Montgomery’s Etiquette and Cotillion, the Wed & Bed B&B, and even the sheriff’s Murder, He Votes club came by. It was a houseful.” He smiled. “The Murder, He Votes guys put together the cribs and hung the curtains, fixed mobiles and baby swings. The heavy lifting.”

  He watched his wife continue to walk around the room, examining each bit of baby paraphernalia with a smile. It was good to see Capri happy. Ever since he’d come back to town and figured out a way to move into the house with her, it seemed she hadn’t smiled much. Of course, she hadn’t felt much like smiling, maybe—she’d once said she felt as if she’d swallowed a Christmas turkey—and she’d been anxious about the babies once the doctor put her on bed rest.

  It was good to see her smile.

  “The ladies weren’t sure what colors you wanted. They left receipts for everything, in case you wanted to swap any of the—”

  “It’s perfect.” She turned to him, her eyes shining. “Nothing will need to be swapped. I’m so grateful for all of our friends.”

  He started when she said our. He couldn’t remember Capri speaking of them as an “our” in the past couple of weeks. It felt good.

  But he didn’t want to spook her, so he merely said, “If I don’t get you in bed, I’m going to get in trouble with Doc.”

  She looked around the nursery one last time. “Thank you, Seagal. Even though you’re not admitting that you did any of this, I’m pretty sure you had a hand in it.”

  He warmed under her appreciation. “Well, I did take a lot of pictures. Your mother is going to start a baby photo album for you.”

  Capri smiled. “Thank you. For everything.”

  He nodded. “You’re welcome.”

  She didn’t say anything else as she walked past him down the hall. He glanced around the nursery one last time, taking in all the amazing and beautiful things their friends had bought for the babies.

  He so badly wanted to be here every night of the babies’ lives, watching over them, taking care of them.

  He turned off the light and closed the door.

  Chapter Seven

  When the babies finally came home two days before Christmas, Seagal was amazed by how much different the house felt. The house literally changed.

/>   “You can’t believe the difference,” he told Jack. “It’s like the house is magical now or something. It’s beautiful. I thought it would be panic and craziness—and it is—but mostly, it just feels so awesome.”

  Jack raised a beer to him in the Wedding Diner. “Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

  Seagal wasn’t sure he’d been doing much thinking. Right now he was more into feeling. With the babies and Capri, everything was open and new and exciting. “The divorce will be final the day after Christmas. Yes, the court does have office hours that day, despite the holiday season. I’m going to have to face a Grinch in a black robe and sign off from my marriage.”

  Jack stared at him. “You’re going through with it?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “I don’t know.” Jack looked at him. “Do you?”

  “I don’t think so. My wife hasn’t indicated there’s to be a change in plans.”

  “You may have to help her with that.”

  Seagal winced. “Capri isn’t easily swayed. For instance, she threw me out for the afternoon. She told me that she didn’t need a bodyguard, she needed sleep, and while the babies were napping she was going to sleep like a rock, and I was going to leave the house or she was going to sue the department for harassment.”

  Jack laughed. “Did she really threaten to call the chief? And the sheriff?”

  “I don’t think it was an idle threat.” Seagal sipped his beer. “How am I supposed to change her mind?” He’d done everything he knew how to do, which was nothing more than continue being her husband. “I love her so much. I just don’t think Capri feels the same way.”

  “Oh, I think she does.” Jack glanced around the pink-and-white walls of the Wedding Diner. “Kelly says she thinks Capri loves you madly. But things were kind of rocky from the beginning. At least that’s what Kelly says.”

  Seagal blinked. “What else does Kelly say?”

  “That Capri feels like she stole you from Daisy.”

  “That’s dumb.”

  “And that you never got over Daisy.”

  “That’s even dumber,” Seagal said. “If I wanted to be with Daisy, I would be.”