The Christmas Cradle

by Linda Warren

  He poured the milk into a bottle with a long tube that had a sort of squeeze pump. He opened the fawn’s mouth and pushed the tube down her throat. As he squeezed the pump, gently, the milk flowed into her throat to her stomach. The fawn’s throat convulsed, and Marisa had to look away.

  “There, that should do it,” she heard Colter say, and she turned back. The poor thing was still trembling, and the sight was more than Marisa could stand.

  “Can’t you stop her from shaking like that?” she asked Colter.

  “I’ve given her an antibiotic and an anti-inflammatory. The pain will ease as soon as the medicine takes effect.”

  Marisa didn’t want to wait that long. She got to her feet and found a horse blanket, then covered the small body, hoping the warmth would stop the quaking.

  Colter watched her with a strange expression on his face, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Daddy, is she gonna live?” Ellie asked anxiously.

  “I don’t know. We’ll keep an eye on her and feed her again this evening. That’s about all we can do.”

  Marisa checked on the animal several times that afternoon. She couldn’t seem to stay away. She wanted to do something to ease the fawn’s pain, and that thought was as startling to her as it was to everyone around her. Whenever she headed for the barn, she could feel Colter’s eyes on her.

  When they went to feed her that evening, Marisa rushed over, hardly able to believe her eyes. “Look, Colter! She’s not trembling anymore. That means she’s out of pain, doesn’t it?”

  He stared into her eager eyes. Clearing his throat, he answered, “Yes. Now let’s see if we can get her to suck.”

  The little fawn still didn’t respond, so Colter squeezed more milk into her stomach. Marisa’s heart sank. She’d felt sure the animal was improving.

  She kept thinking about the fawn, but she soon got caught up in Ellie’s exuberance about Christmas. They made oatmeal cookies for Santa, under Tulley’s guidance, while Colter sat at the kitchen table drinking spicy apple cider.

  “They have to be real good, Tulley,” Ellie said, “so don’t forget anything.”

  “Are you saying I’m forgetful?”

  “No, yes, maybe.” Ellie giggled.

  Marisa laughed, a soft happy sound, and Colter reflected that this was what it would be like if they were married. He didn’t push the thought away as he normally would, and realized he was finally seeing Marisa for the woman she’d become. He liked what he saw—a warm, giving, loving person.

  Tulley closed the oven door. “The timer’s set, so all you have to do is take ’em out when it dings.”

  “I can handle that,” Marisa told him. “And I’ll clean up the kitchen.”

  Tulley removed his apron. “Thanks, and ladies, this is about as much fun as I can stand for one night. I hear my bed calling.”

  “He always hears his bed calling,” Ellie whispered to Marisa.

  “I heard that,” Tulley said as he walked toward his room.

  “I love you.” Ellie ran over and gave him a kiss.

  “Aw, shorty, that makes everything okay. ’Night, everyone.”

  Marisa began to load the dishwasher and wipe counters, and Colter helped. They worked side by side in comfortable silence. Just as she turned the dishwasher on, the oven dinged. She removed the cookies and set them on the stove to cool.

  Ellie pulled a chair to the cabinet and got down a plate with a Santa face on it.

  “This is Santa’s plate.” She jumped down, then handed it to Marisa, who placed several cookies on it. Ellie carried the plate to the table and rushed back to the refrigerator to pour a glass of milk.

  “Santa’s gonna love these,” she said, munching on a cookie. “Tulley didn’t forget a thing.”

  Marisa took a bite of one and agreed—they were good. She should’ve written the recipe down, but she could always ask Tulley. She became still as she envisioned herself always here—with Ellie. And Colter.

  “Bedtime, angelface,” Colter said.

  “Okay, Daddy, but first I have to do something.” She raced to her room. For once, Sooner didn’t follow. He was busy eating a piece of cookie Ellie had given him.

  Colter looked at Marisa. “What’s she up to?”

  “I have no idea.”

  A few minutes later, she was back and set a piece of paper by the plate. “Now I’m going to bed.” In a whirlwind she and Sooner were gone.

  Marisa and Colter walked to the table and glanced down at the paper. In bold letters Ellie had printed:

  Dear Santa,

  Thank you for sending me my mommy for Christmas.

  Love,

  Ellie Kincaid

  Tears rolled down Marisa’s cheeks. At the sight, Colter’s stomach seemed to tie itself in knots and he drew her into his arms. With one hand, he caressed the tears from her face. She looked up at him, and unable to stop himself, he kissed her. At first he kept his touch gentle, but then she whimpered deep in her throat, her hands sliding up his arms to his neck. At her response, he deepened the kiss. Rational thought was impossible as heated passion, too long denied, took over.

  He had only meant to comfort her, but the touch of her soft skin, the feel of her in his arms, was his undoing. God, he wanted her. Eight years of hate, bitterness and love had fueled a flame so intense that both were oblivious to everything but the passion consuming them.

  “Daddy, Mommy,” Ellie called, shattering the moment. Marisa pulled away instantly and went to Ellie.

  Colter stood for a moment, trying to get his emotions under control, but all he could feel was Marisa. He didn’t have the strength to continue fighting a battle he was losing.

  Slowly he made his way to Ellie’s room, feeling as if he’d just been thrown from the meanest, baddest horse in Texas.

  THEY PUT THEIR GIFTS under the tree. Then Marisa climbed the stairs to her room, while Colter talked to Becky on the phone. Marisa showered, then called Hazel to wish her a Merry Christmas. She’d sent her former landlady and friend a holiday flower arrangement, which Hazel had loved. Marisa promised to visit after Christmas.

  She crawled into bed with thoughts of Colter. He’d kissed her with a passion she remembered from the past, and she wondered if he could kiss her like that without loving her. Love and sex went hand in hand for her, and she finally had to admit she loved him as much as she ever had—the years, the heartache and separation hadn’t changed a thing.

  But how did he feel about her? He desired her; she knew that. This time, though, she wanted it all—love, home and a family. And she wanted it with Colter.

  The wind wailed outside and the temperature had dropped to the low thirties. With the cold, she wondered if the fawn was trembling again. She sat up in bed, holding her hands to her face. Why was she so deeply concerned about this small animal? Was she somehow comparing her and Ellie’s situation to the fawn’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had to check on her once more.

  She quickly slipped on her clothes and headed downstairs, grabbing her coat from the hall closet. As soon as she opened the back door, she heard a howling in the distance and the blackness of the moonless night seemed to engulf her. Thoughts of wild animals ran through her mind, but she walked stoically toward the barn.

  Opening the door, she flipped on the light. The fawn was where they’d left her, stretched unmoving on the hay. Marisa knelt and tucked the blanket tightly around her. The little thing wasn’t shaking, so that had to be good.

  She stroked her face. “You have to live, little one,” she whispered. “I know you don’t have a mother, but I’ll be your mother. I’ll take care of you. I don’t know anything about deer, but Colter does and I’m sure he’ll help me.”

  Everyone should have a mother, every living creature. She thought about her own mother, and Marisa recognized that Vanessa was probably in pain at losing her. A sob left her throat, as she gazed toward the ceiling. “If you let the fawn live, I promise to talk to my parents and maybe I can find a
measure of forgiveness.” Suddenly she felt a sense of peace.

  “What are you doing?”

  Her head swiveled around. “Colter?”

  He squatted beside her. “What are you doing?” he repeated.

  “I had to check on her one more time.” She rubbed the fawn’s head.

  “What is it with you and this baby deer?” he asked, his voice low.

  “I can’t explain it. I just don’t want her to be in pain and alone.”

  “Is that how you felt?”

  She let her eyes cling to his, knowing exactly what he meant. “Yes,” she said hoarsely. “After losing my baby, the pain was so bad I didn’t think I’d survive, and at times I didn’t want to.”

  He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry for all you’ve been through.”

  There, in the quiet of the barn, the past came full circle and slid into the present. He knew that all he had to do was reach for her to obliterate the remaining sadness.

  Instead, he helped her to her feet. “Let’s go back to the house. It’s cold out here.”

  She stared at the deer. “Will she live?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll know by morning.”

  He took her hand, then flipped off the light and they stepped into the darkness, the wind whipping fiercely around them. They could hear howling in the distance. Marisa instinctively moved closer to Colter and he squeezed her hand.

  “It’s only a coyote foraging for food. They don’t come near the ranch.”

  His touch and his words warmed her against the chilly night.

  As they walked into the house, he asked, “Now can you get to sleep?”

  “Yes,” she answered, taking off her coat. “Thank you.”

  He watched the light in her eyes, then touched her cheek with his fingers.

  The unexpected touch made Marisa catch her breath. Her eyes flew to his and she saw an emotion that stole her breath. He wanted her. His hand curved around her neck and she swayed toward him. “Colter,” she whispered a moment before his mouth covered hers. Her lips parted eagerly as longing enveloped her. His tongue moved into her mouth, to taste, to probe, and a fire coursed through her. She quivered uncontrollably.

  “Marisa,” he groaned, his body trembling. He pulled her closer, kissing her hard and furiously. They strained together, lips touching lips, heart on heart, striving to say with their bodies what they hadn’t been able to say with words. Marisa’s hands traveled hungrily over his face, as if she were trying to imprint the feel of him on her fingertips. Colter kissed her again and again.

  He felt himself exploding with all the emotions he’d kept inside, and he gave them full rein. He didn’t want to think. He just wanted to feel—to feel all those wonderful sensations that were a part of her. Nothing else mattered, not their differences, not the past—just this moment, this feeling.

  As he slid a hand beneath her blouse and caressed her heated skin, she couldn’t control the whimpering deep in her throat. She wanted him, plain and simple, and she couldn’t hide it. She returned his kisses with equal fervor, each taking and giving until nothing existed but the two of them. Finally, he rested his forehead against hers.

  “Marisa…”

  She placed her fingers over his lips. “Please don’t apologize. Please…”

  They stared at each other, both realizing that their anger was gone. Hers had faded into nothingness, and she could tell his had, too.

  “I’m not.” He drew a ragged breath and released her. “But we should slow down.”

  “Yes,” she said, knowing he was right. This time they had to be clear about what they wanted. She gave him a brief smile. “It’s Christmas Eve—Santa’s going to be here soon.”

  He grinned. “You’ve been listening to Ellie too long.”

  She ran for the stairs singing, “You’d better watch out, you’d better not pout, you’d better not…”

  Falling into bed, she felt young and very much in love. She touched her lips, still tender from his kisses. She loved him and wanted to be with him, but she couldn’t make love with him unless she knew he loved her just as much. Maybe she was wishing for the impossible. Maybe the forever kind of love didn’t exist in real life. Like Ellie, though, she believed.

  And it was Christmas.

  CHRISTMAS MORNING CAME very early and Ellie’s excited shouts echoed through the house. She tore into her gifts like a hurricane, hardly giving Marisa and Colter time to fully wake up.

  Pulling out the rhinestone studded jeans, she screeched, “Oh boy. Oh boy.” Then she immediately slipped them on over her pajamas.

  “Ellie,” Colter sighed, but Ellie wasn’t listening. She proceeded to dress completely in the outfit, whirling around for everyone to see.

  “Don’t I look cool, Tulley?”

  “You’re so cool I’m about to get frostbite,” Tulley joked, working the video camera.

  “My mommy gave them to me.” She hugged Marisa, and Marisa held her tight, her eyes meeting Colter’s. Their first Christmas…

  Marisa could hardly breathe as she opened Ellie’s gift. It was a plaster of Paris imprint of two hands, with Ellie’s name and the date written beneath it. “That’s my hand,” Ellie said, as if she needed to explain. “I made it in kindergarten for Daddy, but he said I could give it to you. And I got you this, too.” It was a school photo of Ellie in a silver frame. “You can put it on your nightstand and see me all the time.”

  “Thank you, baby. I love them.”

  A feeling of anticipation flowed through her as she watched Colter open his gift from her. She’d been torn with indecision about what to get him on such short notice. A sigh of relief escaped her when he seemed pleased with the green pullover sweater she’d finally chosen. And Tulley liked the leather gloves she’d given him.

  Colter handed her a large box and she quickly unwrapped it. A pair of dark brown cowboy boots lay inside. “Oh, my,” she whispered.

  “I had them specially made at our factory. I got your shoe size from your heels.”

  She kicked off her slippers and pulled on the boots. Then she stood up and whirled around. “What do you think?”

  “Cool, Mommy—just like a cowgirl,” Ellie said. “Except you probably need to wear jeans instead of a bathrobe.”

  Marisa made a face.

  Colter couldn’t take his eyes off her, but forced himself to reach for another gift. And these—” he gave her the package “—are for when you’re mucking around in the corrals with Ellie.”

  She removed a pair of black rubber boots from the box. “Thank you.” She smiled and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, looking into her eyes.

  “Daddy, Mommy,” Ellie shouted, interrupting their silent communication. “Come on! I gotta ride my bike.”

  They spent the next hour teaching their daughter to ride her new bicycle. With Colter on one side and Marisa on the other, Ellie was soon off on her own, Sooner barking and racing after her. As she circled the driveway, the darkness of the night faded into another Texas winter morning. The wind whistled through the trees and the dew glistened on the grass like happy tears. It was going to be a chilly yet beautiful day.

  “Becky’s on the phone,” Tulley called from the foyer.

  Colter went inside, and Marisa continued to supervise Ellie’s cycling. The child pedaled up the walk and Marisa caught the bicycle because Ellie hadn’t learned to brake yet.

  A few minutes later, Colter came running out. “They had to take Jen to the emergency room and the doctor admitted her. They were able to stop her labor, thank God. She’s doing fine, but the doctor wants to keep an eye on her.” He took a breath. “That now means we’ll be staying home for Christmas.”

  “I’ll see what I can rustle up for lunch,” Tulley said.

  “Are we going to the hospital, Daddy?”

  “This afternoon we’ll all go.” He glanced at Marisa. “Is that okay?”

  “Yes,” she answered, touched that he was incl
uding her.

  Before breakfast, they went to check on the deer. When Colter opened the door, a surprise met them—the fawn was holding her head up, gazing around with wide-open eyes!

  Ellie dashed over to her. “Look, Daddy! She’s better.” The fawn started to lick Ellie’s hand. “And she’s hungry.”

  This time she sucked her bottle readily as Marisa and Ellie hovered over her. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Marisa gently stroked the little head, examining the white spotted body.

  “Let’s call her Beauty,” Ellie suggested.

  “Wait a minute.” Colter held up a hand. “When she’s healthy again, I’ll call the game warden and—”

  “No, Daddy! No.” Ellie cried. “He’ll take her away. Why can’t we keep her? I’ll take care of her.”

  “And I’ll help,” Marisa said, her dark eyes holding his.

  Colter stared at Marisa, then at Ellie and then back at Marisa. “Okay.” He gave in with a frown. “But just remember. When she gets old enough, we have to let her go. She’s a wild animal and needs to be free. It would be inhuman to keep her penned up.”

  Marisa felt a moment of pure joy. His acquiescence meant he accepted her presence here in the future. The thought gave her hope—hope that one day he’d love and trust her again.

  A warm glow lit her heart, and the holiday spirit seemed to embrace them in a world all their own.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They all pitched in to help Tulley with dinner. He had a chicken roasting and had made corn bread for the dressing. Green beans and yams waited on the counter. It was plain that he had everything under control.

  Marisa and Ellie set the table in the dining room, and Colter prepared iced tea and apple cider. They were happily absorbed in their tasks, and Marisa soaked up the atmosphere and that sense of family, something she’d never felt before. Most of all she just watched Ellie, and she had to resist the impulse to hug Ellie every few seconds.

  The phone rang, interrupting the silence. Colter answered it and talked for a few minutes; he hung up, saying, “That was Becky. She’s on her way over with dessert. She said she’s not going to miss seeing Ellie at Christmas.”