by Susan Fox
His wife’s arms held him tight, her internal muscles hugged him, and the pressure built within him, the drive to stop teasing and to come. He fought it off, but it intensified.
When he reached between their bodies, she shifted to give him easier access to her clit. He strummed that sensitive bud with his finger.
She caught her breath and gazed into his eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Miriam.”
Then he plunged deep and hard, taking them both over the top as they clung and shuddered together.
Drained, physically satisfied, full of love and joy, he slowly collapsed on top of her. Before his weight could get too heavy, he eased his body off hers and lay beside her.
Sprawled on her back, Miriam stretched and gave a contented sigh. “You haven’t lost your touch, Mr. Bly.”
“Good to know.” He rolled onto his side and studied her profile. Her lips were curved in a contented smile. “You look happy.”
She turned her head to look at him, her blue-gray eyes soft, almost luminous, in the pale afternoon light. “Very happy. I have something to tell you.”
Something good, he gathered, so he smiled expectantly. “Yes?”
“You know when you carried me across the threshold?”
“Yeah?”
“It wasn’t just me.” Now her smile turned radiant. “Wade, I’m pregnant!”
“What? Oh my God, Miriam, that’s terrific.” A year ago, they’d decided it was time to go off birth control and have a second child. And now it was happening. “Wow.”
He leaned over to kiss her and she met his lips eagerly. Then he ran his hand down her body, across her flat belly. “You just found out?”
“Two days ago. I suspected, did a home test, then went to the doctor. I’m barely six weeks along.”
A little hurt, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”
“I wanted to wait until everything was settled. Your parents on their way south, us in our home here. It seemed like the right time.”
The right time. To tell him—yes, he heard what she was saying and it made sense.
But . . . was it the right time to have a child? When they’d decided to have a second kid, he had a salary from his pa, Miriam was working part-time at the vet’s, and they were saving for a small house. Now they had a huge mortgage. He’d have to be careful how much money he took out of the ranching business, and they really needed Miriam’s income. But when she had Jessie, they’d both agreed she’d stay home for three or four years. With this baby—
“Wade?” Concern tugged at her brow. “You are happy about it, aren’t you?”
What expression had she read on his face? Quickly, he said, “Of course I am.” No, he wasn’t going to share his worries. In fact, he wasn’t going to worry. He and Miriam wanted more children, another girl and two boys if they got their way. There was no point waiting. They were together, they loved each other, they were healthy and happy.
He patted her tummy gently, thinking about the little boy or girl he was going to love like crazy. “It’s terrific news, honey. The best.”
Her face cleared. “In two weeks, it’ll be Christmas. Christmas in our new home. You, me, Jessica, and this little one growing inside me. It’s going to be wonderful. Oh, Wade, when I think of everything that’s ahead of us, it’s so exciting.”
“It is. It really is.” He glanced at his bedside clock. “Jessie won’t be back for another hour. What do you want to do?”
A dimple flashed. “I really should start on dinner.”
“I didn’t ask ‘should,’ I asked ‘want.’ ”
“Well, in that case . . .” She rose lithely and straddled him.
Oh yes, with this wonderful woman as his partner, everything was going to work out just great.
Chapter 3
Sounds penetrated the woolly borders of Miriam’s safe cocoon. Jarring noises. Loud voices, the clatter of something metal, feet thudding down the hall. Noises that made her anxious. Something was wrong, very wrong.
No, she didn’t want to face it. Couldn’t deal with it.
Running feet.
That sound could be a good thing. She believed in focusing on the positive.
Running feet. Waking to the sound of running feet . . .
She remembered waking once before to hear that sound in the hallway, as she lay cozy and warm beside Wade on a very special day.
Miriam woke to the sound of running footsteps thudding down the upstairs hall toward the staircase. That would be Jessica, hurrying downstairs to see if Santa had filled the stockings.
She rolled over and spooned her sleeping husband, wrapping her arm around him. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
“Hmm?” He stirred, clasped her hand.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
“Oh, right.” He turned over to face her. “It’s Christmas. Cool.”
“Our first Christmas in our new house.” She loved Christmas, and this one was going to be extra special. Oh yes, she could relate to her daughter’s eagerness to get the day under way.
She and Wade kissed, but when he teased his tongue between her lips, she pulled back regretfully. “Don’t get carried away. Our daughter’s on the move.”
They pulled themselves up in bed, propping pillows behind their backs and straightening their flannel pajamas. He clicked on the light just as Jessica flung the door open. Normally, there was a “knock first” rule, but rules went out the window on Christmas morning.
“Santa found us!” Jessica cried, clutching three overstuffed red stockings with fluffy white trim. “He ate all the cookies, too.”
Wade, who’d eaten most of those Christmas cookies himself, said, “Told you I sent him a change-of-address notice.”
Jessica flung herself on the bed between them and handed out the stockings. “I can’t wait to see what he brought us.” She upended her stocking so the goodies poured out haphazardly.
Miriam’s gaze met Wade’s and they smiled as their daughter pawed through the little toys and candy, exclaiming happily. She and her husband had been raised to be frugal, and Jessica didn’t have as many fancy toys as some of her friends, but she wasn’t a greedy child. Besides, she was so in love with horses that being in the barn or going riding was her idea of heaven. Miriam couldn’t wait to see their daughter’s face when she found out about her big Christmas present.
“Mommy, Pa, what did you get?” Jessica demanded, drawing her mom’s attention. “Why aren’t you opening your stockings?”
“We were enjoying watching you,” Miriam said. “But it’s my turn next.” She emptied out her stocking, delighting in the combination of treasures her husband had put together for her: a Sue Grafton mystery, a cassette tape of Christmas songs by Willie Nelson, a framed photo of Wade and Jessica on horseback, a small box of chocolate-covered cherries, and the obligatory mandarin orange in the toe of the stocking.
Wade took his turn, beaming over the tooled leather key fob that read “Bly Ranch,” the Faith Hill cassette, and hand warmers to go inside his gloves when he took hay to the livestock and mended fences.
They all trailed downstairs in pajamas, robes, and slippers to eat a Christmas breakfast of pancakes and bacon. Then it was present time, in the front room. While her husband got the fire going, Miriam put her new Willie Nelson tape in the cassette deck and Jessica plugged in the lights on the Christmas tree.
Bly family tradition was to put up the tree on Christmas Eve. Yesterday, Wade had cut the tree on their own—my God, she still couldn’t believe Bly Ranch was theirs!—property, a perfectly shaped Douglas fir that reached the ceiling and filled the room with a green, outdoorsy scent. They’d decorated it after dinner, stringing chains of popcorn and cranberries and hanging the ornaments they’d accumulated over the years, with the best display space going to ones Jessica had made at school. This year’s were pictures of horses cut out of magazines that she’d mounted on cardboard and decorated with glitter. Miriam had snapped photos
all evening, and this morning had her camera ready for the present unwrapping.
Under the tree were their own gifts to each other, together with presents from Wade’s parents and other relatives and friends. Miriam and Wade sat side by side on the couch, with Jessica delivering wrapped packages, then crouching on the hearth to open her own.
Most of the gifts were practical: pretty new sweaters and scarves, new cowboy boots for the ever-growing Jessica, a cookbook for Miriam. But she’d also scrimped to buy Wade the binoculars he’d been wanting, and she discovered that the gorgeous silver-wrapped box contained a skimpy lacy negligee.
“Mommy,” Jessica said critically, “that nightie’s not going to keep you warm.”
“You’re right,” she said, “but it’s the thought that counts.” She tossed her husband a wink, very much appreciating that thought. Even though they’d been married eight years, Wade still made the occasional romantic gesture, letting her know he found her attractive and sexy.
Jessica unwrapped a children’s book about raising a foal, a present from Grandma and Grandpa Bly, who knew what Wade and Miriam had planned. But it wasn’t until she opened the final gift, a miniature halter—just the right size for a foal—that her mouth opened and she stared at her parents. “Who’s this for?”
Miriam squeezed Wade’s hand. “You tell her.”
“Your first horse, Jessie,” he said. “We’re giving you Whisper’s foal.” The mare, one of the Bly Ranch horses, was a dark dapple gray, in foal to a midnight black stallion named Rapscallion. Miriam and Wade figured that raising a foal would be a great exercise in responsibility for their horse-crazy daughter.
Jessica gave an earsplitting screech as she sprang from the hearth and rushed over to throw her arms around her parents. “Can I go see Whisper now? I want to tell her.”
“Sure,” Wade said. “And you can feed and water the horses while you’re out there.”
Their daughter ran off, abandoning the pile of gifts and wrapping paper.
“We made our girl happy,” Wade said contentedly.
“We did. I only hope she’s half as excited when she learns she’s going to have a baby brother or sister.”
He chuckled. “I’m excited. Does that count?” He pulled her into the curve of his arm. “When do you want to tell people, hon?”
“After the new year? Right now, I kind of like it being just between the two of us.”
“Sounds good to me.”
She snuggled close. God, how she loved this man and their life together. But it would be a busy day—everything a pleasure, but still involving effort—so she separated herself again and rose. “Better get going. Loads to do before we head into town.” They were going to her parents’ for a snack-style lunch and another round of gift giving.
“I’d rather you tried on your Christmas present,” he groused good-naturedly as he started to collect wrapping paper.
“Tonight,” she promised. “If you’re a good boy.”
She went into the kitchen to make stuffing for the turkey, and he headed out to feed the cattle. With snow on the ground, he couldn’t go a day without harnessing the draft horses and toting hay to the hungry beasts.
Kitchen chores finished, Miriam showered and dressed in figure-hugging black pants and a long red sweater. As she was putting playful Christmas tree earrings in her ears, Wade rushed in and headed for the shower. She laid out clothes for him: charcoal cords, a sage green shirt, and the new green sweater his parents had given him. Then she went to make sure Jessica was dressed. They called Wade’s parents in Phoenix and shared Christmas greetings and thank-yous, and then it was time to go.
They loaded the car with gifts and tins of mincemeat tarts she’d baked, and then the three of them drove west into Caribou Crossing. They were ten miles out of town, and the drive was scenic: split-rail fences lining the road, an occasional house with outbuildings, vast expanses of rolling ranch land now blanketed with snow, and a backdrop of low hills.
Reaching town, Wade drove down the main street. Caribou Crossing was a bit of an odd mix. Several heritage buildings had been restored, other storefronts had a tired fifties look, and some, like The Gold Nugget Saloon, were tawdry. Still, today everything looked festive with garlands of holly and strings of white lights. Firefighters, using their ladder truck, had decorated the huge fir in the town square where she and Wade had held their wedding reception. On the snowy lawn of the town hall, a jolly Santa waved from a sleigh towed by wire-framed creatures that anyone outside Caribou Crossing would call reindeer, but here were called caribou.
Too bad these wire beasts were the only caribou ever seen in town. Though the chamber of commerce had set out road-crossing signs—like the ones in school zones but with “Caribou Crossing” and a black silhouette of the mammal on them—those were purely for tourism. The caribou that had once roamed free had fled to more remote territory long ago.
Caribou might be scarce, but a number of people strolled the sidewalks, decked out in colorful hats and scarves, many carrying gaily wrapped packages. As Wade cruised slowly down the main street, Miriam opened the window on the passenger side to let in crisp, snowy air and warm holiday greetings.
Her friend Jane, who’d gone to school with Miriam and Wade and was now a lawyer in town, said, “Lunch next week?” and she happily agreed. Elderly Mrs. Vey asked when the vet’s office, where Miriam worked part-time, would be open, and Miriam told her, “The twenty-seventh. But if it’s an emergency, call Dr. Christian.” Main Street was always like this; you couldn’t go twenty feet without stopping for a chat.
Wade made a couple of turns, entering one of the nicer areas of town, then pulled up outside her parents’ two-story wood-framed house, where multicolored lights sparkled at the windows and eaves. It was the family home where they’d raised four kids. Only their fifteen-year-old daughter, Andie, still lived at home.
Most days, her mom complained that the three of them rattled around in all that space, but today the downstairs was full. Andie’s longtime BFF was there. Logan, who lived down in Vancouver where he went to college, had brought his girlfriend—a student from India—home for the holidays. Kate, the middle sister, was there with her husband, baby, and in-laws. Add in a few close friends of their parents’ and it was a noisy, cheerful crowd, rosy cheeked from excitement, the warmth of the fire, and Miriam’s mom’s brandy-spiked eggnog.
Jessica lost no time telling everyone she was now a horse owner. “Or at least I will be as soon as it’s born this spring,” she added. “I think my horse is going to be a rodeo star. Or maybe a racehorse.”
“Can’t say she isn’t ambitious,” Miriam commented to Wade.
“I’d say she’s a dreamer,” he said dryly.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she defended her daughter. “Look at us. Remember all those dreams we had, the day we got married? Now they’re all coming true.” Gently, subtly, she touched her belly, thinking of baby number two and not for one moment regretting that she’d have to turn down her mom’s delicious eggnog.
Her dad clapped his hands and announced it was time to open presents, and they all settled in for another round of tearing off wrapping paper. The highlight, for Miriam and Wade, was their gift from her parents: a personal computer. They’d wanted one—a few of their friends had them and raved about e-mail and games—but they hadn’t been able to justify the expense. “Thanks, Mom and Dad. This is terrific!” Miriam exclaimed.
“Here.” Her father handed her another parcel. “This goes with it.”
She opened it eagerly, expecting a game, and found a box with the label QuickBooks. Inside was a CD and a hefty manual. A bookkeeping program? “Um, thanks,” she said dubiously. Though her dad was a banker, she’d never been fond of math and had always been grateful he didn’t talk shop at home.