Christmas in Texas

by Tina Leonard

  “You can’t really tell that to a woman. They don’t understand the difference between attraction and true love.”

  Seagal shook his head. “I never thought about Daisy again after Capri asked me out. That’s the truth.”

  “I know,” Jack said. “But women don’t really get that.”

  Seagal pondered the information for a moment. “It shouldn’t matter. I’m a married dad. My ‘hot’ quotient for the ladies has hit rock bottom.”

  “Dude,” Jack said with a laugh, “if anything, it’s made you even more attractive to the ladies. They love a steady-Eddie kind of guy.” He shrugged. “Deep down, wives know this stuff. It gets to them. They don’t like feeling less attractive to the opposite sex than their husbands are.”

  “This is the most existential crap I’ve ever heard you spout,” Seagal said. “You’re actually starting to bring me down. Your job is to make me feel better, give me hope, not talk a bunch of philosophical egghead nonsense.”

  “It’s true,” Jack said. “Ask her.”

  Seagal drank his beer, waved for another. “You want me to go home, ask Capri if she feels I’ve got more options with the opposite sex than she does, and that will fix my marriage.”

  “I’m saying try to see it from the chick’s point of view.”

  Seagal looked at his partner. “Look. First thing, if I called Capri a chick, she’d hand me my head. I’m just treading water with her.”

  “All right. Listen, just take on some of the Venus angle, okay? Women think differently than we do. They worry about stuff we never dream they’d worry about. Do I have to draw you a diagram?”

  “Yes,” Seagal said.

  Jack shook his head. “Right now I can assure you Capri is worried about baby weight. Lumps and bumps. Leaking breasts.”

  “I wish I could see leaking breasts,” Seagal said morosely. “Capri does not let me in the room when she’s nursing. If I go in there, she wraps up like a mummy.”

  Jack laughed. “Too much info. Why is your skull so thick?”

  “I don’t know.” He guessed it was, because Jack seemed to get it and Seagal sure didn’t. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got a cruiser going around the house every five minutes while I’m gone, and if Capri looks out the window and sees it, I’m toast. She’s fed up with the case. She says she wants her life back, and the best way to make that happen is to get me out of the house.”

  Jack nodded. “Probably right.”

  “Thanks. Help me some more, why don’t you.” He tossed tip money on the table.

  “What if there’s never a lead in the case?” Jack asked. “Your divorce is final soon and you’re out on your ear. Then what?”

  Seagal knew the pressure was on. Christmas Day was his last day to be under the same roof with Capri and the children—she’d made no bones about it. “I have a pretty good idea what’s happened. It’s a local job—some of the Bridesmaids Creek loose cannons have too much time on their hands. They were making a handoff and decided Christmastown was the best place to do it. And there were Capri’s big, beautiful Christmas arrangements, with vases big enough to hold stash.”

  “How do you know this?” Jack asked.

  “Daisy sort of told me.” Seagal leaned back in the pink vinyl booth. “When she came to the hospital to see Capri, I looked out the window as she left. She rode off on the back of Taylor Kinsler’s motorcycle.”

  “Oh, that’s bad,” Jack said. “Nothing good can come of that.”

  “Nope. He’s been spoiling to get in trouble for years. Things haven’t gone well for him at rodeo, mainly because he doesn’t like to work hard, which is a shame because his father, Judge Kinsler, is one of the hardest-working men I’ve ever known. I heard through the grapevine that Taylor picked up a bit of a weed problem when he was on the circuit. Probably thought it made him look cool to the ladies.” Seagal shrugged. “Him and his boys are trouble, always have been.”

  “The Bad.” Jack nodded. “I remember when Taylor and his friends called themselves the Bad in high school. They loved having a bad rep. Even in football, they wanted to make a blood sport out of it. It wasn’t about winning for the team—it was about who they could hurt.”

  Seagal nodded. “I guess nothing’s changed, except sometimes bad kids grow up to be criminals. It’s a slippery slope.”

  “And Daisy’s mixed up with them?”

  Seagal shrugged. “Daisy likes all the guys. You know that.”

  “Yeah, but she’s never been bad. She’s more like—”

  “Edgy.” Seagal got up from the booth. “I can’t worry about Daisy. She’s a tough girl—she can take care of herself.”

  “Shame. All that beauty and an angel face going down the road to nowhere.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not your problem, either. Unless you’re into bad girls. I’ve got to head back. It’s one of my last nights at the hacienda. I’m praying for a miracle, or I’ll be in Judge Kinsler’s court. This Santa’s probably going to be sent right out on my sleigh, unless my wife experiences some kind of epiphany.”

  “Remember what I said,” Jack called after him. “Women are different from men!”

  Seagal waved as he absorbed Jack’s nonsensical advice. Of course women were different from men—Jack was a softhearted knucklehead. And not as wily with women as he thought, or he’d have figured out that Kelly was all about him.

  On the other hand, Seagal would take any advice if it would win his wife back. It was the only Christmas gift he wanted.

  * * *

  AN HOUR LATER, Seagal was still giving Capri space. He’d texted her once, and she’d texted back not to rush to return. That sounded like wife code for “I’m really enjoying the peace and quiet,” so he drove around Bridesmaids Creek’s courthouse another time, looking at the bright Christmas lights and decorations around the square.

  Wasn’t the season supposed to be about hope, about miracles?

  He parked his truck across from Capri’s shop and shut the engine off. Though it was dark outside, he had a fairly good view of her store. There were lights on under the pink-and-white-striped awnings that most shops had over their storefronts. He remembered Capri had ordered the new awning when she took over her grandmother’s florist shop—it was the one thing she’d changed.

  She’d said there was no reason to change what was working.

  Not long after that, Capri had said she thought it would be better if they separated. He’d been working in Dallas, polishing his résumé and putting in some extra training hours.

  She’d gone from an assistant in the Bridesmaids Bouquet shop to owner and manager when her grandmother had died. He knew things had been tough for her. He’d agreed to the separation, figuring maybe she’d feel better in time. Months had passed, and still she didn’t call—though he hoped desperately that she would. Capri had taken the lead in the beginning of their relationship; it had stood to reason he’d be in good shape if he let her take the lead when she’d processed whatever she was going through.

  But she never called.

  Seagal leaned back, glancing around the square. He’d missed it here, more than he realized. Last Christmas he’d been gone most of the holiday season. Same thing this year, until he’d heard about the drug ring. Capri’s shop had come up as a possible place the drugs were being hidden—and then her brother, Beau, had called, dropping the earth-shattering bomb on him that he was going to be a dad.

  Seagal had requested a transfer with lightning speed—and bent
every department ear he could find about letting him be assigned to his wife.

  Maybe he’d made matters worse.

  Sudden tapping at his window startled him. He rolled down the window to glare at Daisy.

  “What are you doing out at this hour?” he demanded.

  She laughed. “Is eight o’clock late in your world now, Seagal?”

  He wasn’t going to fall for her obvious reference to his not-wild lifestyle. “What can I do for you, Daze?”

  Daisy’s smile was sweet, angelic. Just like Jack had said. Only, Jack was stupid. And I’m not.

  “Get tired of changing diapers?” she asked. “Is that why you’re sitting here alone in the dark?”

  “I doubt I’ll ever tire of changing diapers. Good times, as far as I’m concerned.” It was the truth. He loved spending time with his daughter and his son. Diapers were no big deal—just part of taking care of babies. He glanced over at her ride to change the subject. “Nice bike.”

  “Yeah.” She glanced at her super-hot-pink motorcycle with pride. “A girl’s gotta have wheels.”

  “I guess.” He wouldn’t classify those as just any old wheels. “I’m going to have to shove off.”

  Daisy looked at him, full-on sex appeal in her tight black rider duds. She hadn’t worn a helmet. Her long brown hair was tousled and sexy from the wind. She looked wild and free, and he got why the guys dug her—he had, too, once upon a time.

  Before he’d realized he could actually have Capri Snow, the smartest, cutest, most uptight girl in the town.

  “I’m glad you came back to Bridesmaids Creek, Seagal.”

  “Don’t see why you’d care, Daisy.”

  She shrugged. “You’re a nice guy. There aren’t a lot of men like you around.”

  This conversation was starting to sound a bit dangerous, like it might be all about stroking his ego. He didn’t have an ego these days; it was totally invested in Capri and his kids. “Plenty of nice guys. Though I hear you’re not always spending your time with the best.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Saw you ride off the other night with Taylor Kinsler,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Her frown turned into a sexy smile. “Jealous, Seagal?”

  He started to say no, not by a long shot, but she leaned over and kissed him on the lips. Seagal drew back as if he’d been struck by a snake. “Not cool, Daze,” he said, started his engine, and drove away.

  * * *

  “AND THEN SHE KISSED HIM,” Mrs. Penny said, “right on the mouth.”

  Capri blinked. “Are you sure it was Seagal?”

  That was a dumb question, and she knew it. Nobody drove a truck like Seagal’s. She wasn’t surprised he was still staking out her store, either. He was determined the drugs were being trafficked through her shop, no matter how many times she told him it was impossible.

  Mathilda nodded. “I could see clear as anything with the new streetlights. The only reason I’m telling you, Capri, is so you’ll know that Seagal took off like the wind immediately. Daisy would have had to throw herself into the truck bed to catch him.”

  The two women sat in the formal room, in front of the pretty Christmas tree Seagal and her mother had decorated. The colored lights glowed softly, catching against the silver and gold ornaments. She and Mathilda were going over the Christmastown event, trying to figure out what could be improved for next year.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Capri didn’t want it to matter, but her heart ached. She had two beautiful children; she was a mom. There was no time in her life for stressing about Daisy Donovan anymore.

  “You know how she is,” Mathilda said. “She’s always been fast.”

  Seagal had once loved fast. Capri sighed. “I was never fast. Sexy is not what men see in me.”

  “True,” Mathilda said, with her customary forthrightness. “I think Seagal sees something he likes better.”

  Capri considered her husband as she looked around her beautiful formal room. “Sometimes I don’t think we were really all that well-suited. He hated this sofa, for example, and I loved it.”

  Mathilda smiled at the flowery, feminine sofa. “Men don’t care about living rooms. The den is usually their cave. Wherever the television remote is.”

  Capri smiled. “He did enjoy our den. Lots of leather and wood. I told him to decorate that room any way he liked, and he did. Iron stuff. Manly things.”

  “Exactly.” Mathilda nodded. “Anyway, don’t think about this. I just didn’t want you to be surprised when Seagal tells you about Daisy.”

  Shocked, she looked at her planning partner. “You think he’ll tell me?”

  “Sure. Seagal isn’t going to want you to hear it from anyone else, least of all Daisy.”

  “Oh.” Capri pondered that. “I guess you’re right.”

  “I am. He’s going to want his conscience clean. He wants to keep his marriage,” Mathilda said simply. “The best way to do that is not to have any secrets.”

  “But he wouldn’t admit he was staking out my shop,” Capri said, and Mathilda said, “What?”

  “Never mind.” Capri sighed.

  “He’s staking out your shop? Is that what he was doing parked across the street?”

  “It was just an expression.” If there was an investigation under way, Seagal wouldn’t want the details out. It would get him in all kinds of hot water with the department. And Mrs. Penny, bless her, was the town telephone. “I have no idea why he was parked by the courthouse.”

  “You have those two darling babies to think of,” Mathilda said. “I was married for fifty-four years. Divorce is hard on the kids, and hard on you, too. Not that it’s any of my business,” she said, “but I wouldn’t give up on my marriage just because of Daisy.”

  “It’s not quite like that,” Capri murmured.

  “Well, it’s none of my business.” Mathilda gave her a gentle smile. “I imagine you’ll want to give up your position on the committee for the annual Bridesmaids Creek swim. You’ve got a lot on your hands.”

  Capri shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I want to stay busy.” Part of living in Bridesmaids Creek was trying to benefit the town. The town meant a lot to her. She’d been born here, raised here, knew most of the people. She cared about what the citizens of Bridesmaids Creek cared about—they pulled together through thick and thin.

  “What about the charity race at Best Man’s Fork? You’ll surely not want to co-chair that, too?”

  Capri laughed. “I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to say I have too much to do, now that I’m a mom. That I should give up my committees. The thing is, my grandmother had four children and held these positions for years. I plan to do the same.”

  “Of course, your grandmother had her children one at a time,” Mathilda pointed out. “I’ve got to think it’s easier to be a mom one baby at a time. Especially if you really think you’re determined to be a single mom.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She’d have to be.

  “People will still order their flowers for all their events at your shop if you don’t sit on every committee in town.”

  “I know.” If there was still a shop after Seagal finished poking around in it. The thought that drugs were being run through her store—it was ludicrous.

  But if there were, she feared people wouldn’t want to patronize her store anymore. Gossip would swirl for years. Illegal activity would make her shop infamous.

  She was scared.
Her shop was her livelihood.

  “I need my store,” Capri said, thinking about the case Seagal was working on. Why had he been staking out her store? Had something happened? Did he know something he wasn’t telling her?

  It wouldn’t be the first time.

  Chapter Eight

  Capri sat in her nightgown, staring at the beautiful Christmas tree, feeling the holiday spirit surround her despite the anxiety Mrs. Penny’s visit had inadvertently stirred inside her—until Seagal burst through the front door.

  She stared at her husband.

  “You don’t look so good,” Capri said. “What happened?”

  He sat next to her on the flowery sofa. “I ran into Daisy Donovan tonight.”

  She blinked. “Is that why you look like you’ve run through a wind tunnel?”

  “I think I probably always look this way.” He turned toward her. “There was some lip action involved, and it didn’t mean anything, and I don’t want you to think it did.”

  Capri looked at Seagal. “I already heard.”

  “Oh.” His face fell. “That’s the one thing about Bridesmaids Creek I don’t like. Gossip runs faster than an electrical current.” He drew a deep breath. “So, who told you?”

  “Mrs. Penny.”

  “So the whole town will know by morning.”

  “I doubt it this time.” Capri got up. “I’m going to check on the babies.”

  “Wait.” He didn’t speak until she turned to face him. “It meant nothing.”

  “We’ve been separated for months, Seagal. It doesn’t matter.”

  His expression didn’t change. Capri realized that was one thing about her husband the cop—he’d always been good at schooling his emotions, and she’d never known exactly what he was thinking. She looked at Seagal for a long moment, her heart aching. “Do you want to tell me why you were sitting outside my store?”

  “What does that matter?”