Christmas With the Mustang Man

by Stella Bagwell

  She’d never expected such an endearing reaction from Hayley. In fact, she’d thought the girl would probably resent the intrusion of having a guest in the house.

  “Thank you for the compliment, Hayley, but I’m just average-looking. I have two sisters who are much prettier than I am.”

  “Wow, you have two sisters?” she asked, then like a switch had been flipped, her expression turned glum. “I wish I had a sister or even a brother. But I guess all I’ll ever have is just me.”

  Dallas let out a silent groan. Babies. She just couldn’t get away from the subject tonight.

  “Your father is still young,” Dallas said with as much encouragement as she could muster. “He might marry again and have more children.”

  Shaking her head, Hayley leaned toward Dallas and lowered her voice. “Dad wouldn’t like it if he heard me talking about this kind of stuff. And I don’t ever—but you’re a grown-up woman and I don’t get to talk to anybody like you.”

  Dallas was perplexed. “What about your friends? Surely they have mothers you can talk with?”

  The girl wrinkled up her nose. “I don’t trust any of them. They’re all friends of my dad’s and whatever I said might get back to him. And then I’d be grounded for weeks.”

  “Oh. I see.” Dallas reached over and patted the girl’s hand. “Well, for what it’s worth, you can trust me. I’ll keep our conversation in confidence.”

  Sighing with relief, Hayley quickly leaned closer and lowered her voice another notch. “Well, the reason I don’t think I’ll ever get a brother or sister is ’cause Dad doesn’t want to ever get married again. Because my mother was so awful. And he says that so many years would be between me and a little brother or sister that we most likely wouldn’t be close. But I believe we would. Dad just uses that for an excuse. And it’s a dumb one.”

  Dallas ached for this young girl with sad brown eyes and a wish in her heart to belong to a whole family. “Do you see your mother often?”

  Hayley shot her a puzzled, almost comical look. “Often? Shoot, I never see her. Dad says I was three the last time she came around. But I don’t remember it.”

  Dazed by what she was hearing, Dallas hardly knew how to respond to this girl who seemed so hungry for female guidance. “I’m sorry, Hayley. That must be rough.”

  The girl shrugged one shoulder as though to say she wasn’t bothered by the fact. But Dallas could see that being abandoned by her mother had obviously had a profound effect on the child.

  Hayley said, “I don’t sweat it that much. I mean, I don’t remember her, so there’s not a lot for me to miss. Dad says she had psychological problems and had to live in a mental clinic for a while. Now I guess she’s well enough. She’s married to someone else. Once in a while I get a postcard from her. But that’s about it.”

  Oh, God, what kind of woman could simply walk away from her own daughter? A woman who had some sort of mental or emotional breakdown, Dallas realized. But if she’d gotten well enough to remarry, what was her reason for staying away from Hayley now? Boone? No. Dallas couldn’t imagine him keeping his ex-wife away from their daughter just for spiteful reasons.

  “So your mother didn’t have any more children?” Dallas asked while trying to tell herself she wasn’t prying. Hayley clearly needed to talk and it wasn’t like Dallas was going to take the information and spread it.

  Dropping her head in a guilty manner, Hayley mumbled, “No. Something happened after I was born and she couldn’t have more kids. That’s what my grandma Elsa told me once.” Turning a wistful expression on Dallas, she asked, “Do you have a nice mother?”

  Hayley’s ingenuous question caused tears to sting the back of Dallas’s eyes. “Yes. She’s a wonderful mother. Her name is Fiona. And my grandmother, Kate, lives with us, too. And I have three brothers, also.”

  “Boy, your house must be full of people.”

  “Most of the time it is.” Dallas reached for another cookie. “Your father said you baked these. They’re delicious.”

  Hayley shrugged again. “Cookies are no big deal. I’ve been making them for a long time. I’m learning to cook whole meals now. Dad says I’m doing good. But sometimes I burn things.”

  At Hayley’s age, Dallas had hated doing anything in the kitchen, and she still wasn’t all that good at putting a meal together. Clearly Hayley wasn’t nearly as much of a tomboy as Dallas had been.

  “You like to cook?” she asked the girl.

  “Sure. There’s not much else to do around here. And I like helping Dad. He works so hard. With the horses and all. And he never spends any money on himself. He’s saving it all for me. So that I can go to college. I wish he wouldn’t do that. But he won’t listen to me,” she said, ending her declaration with an exaggerated sigh. “I guess dads are just like that.”

  Yes, the good ones, Dallas thought. And she was beginning to see that Boone was one of the good ones. He might not understand all of Hayley’s feminine needs, but he obviously was making sure her home and future were secure.

  “My father worked hard and sacrificed for his children, too,” she told the girl.

  “What does he do?”

  “He’s mostly retired now. But he raises Thoroughbred horses and races them. Do you know what they are?”

  Her eyes suddenly glowing, Hayley bobbed her head and Dallas decided this was the first real excitement she’d seen on the girl’s face.

  “Oh, yeah! One time we went to Elko to the fair. They were having races and we went to the paddock and watched them saddle the Thoroughbreds. They were so big and beautiful and I told Dad we should get some. But he said we wouldn’t have any use for those kinds of horses on the ranch. He said they were only for running fast.” Hayley gave her eyes an impatient roll. “He should know that some of us like to run fast just for the fun of it. Don’t you?”

  Dallas found it impossible to hide her smile. Especially when she could easily recall how it was to be Hayley’s age, to swing upon a horse’s back and race across the open field with the wind blowing in her face and the rush of exhilaration humming through her. There had been countless occasions when her father, Doyle, had admonished Dallas for riding recklessly. But she’d been young and fierce then. Just the way she suspected Hayley was now.

  “Yes, I do like to go fast,” Dallas admitted, “and Thoroughbreds are good at other jobs, too. But I’m sure the mustangs your father have are equally nice—in different ways.”

  Hayley’s nose wrinkled as she considered Dallas’s diplomatic statement. “Well, most of them are smart,” she agreed. “And Dad says that not everything has to be beautiful to be worth something.”

  During her teenage years and beyond, Dallas had often felt overshadowed by her lovely sisters. They were both petite women with soft, feminine appearances. Dallas had always thought of herself as the big, coarse Donovan sister. But thankfully she’d grown beyond those foolish thoughts and learned that true beauty had nothing to do with the outside and everything to do with the heart.

  “I think your Dad is a very wise man,” Dallas said gently and was surprised at how very much she meant it.

  While Hayley’s gaze dropped uncomfortably to her lap, Dallas noticed the bright pink polish on the girl’s fingernails was terribly chipped and the elastic in her beaded bracelet frayed. Did the girl get any maternal guidance? Dallas wondered. The mother was obviously out of the picture and Boone had only mentioned having his father, so that meant his mother was either dead or moved away. From what Hayley had told her earlier, there didn’t seem to be any other woman around that she felt comfortable talking to. The idea bothered Dallas greatly.

  “Yeah, but sometimes he just doesn’t get it,” she mumbled. “He doesn’t understand what it’s like to be a girl.”

  Chuckling softly, Dallas did her best to keep the moment light. “Don’t feel badly. My dad has never understood girl stuff, either.”

  Hayley looked up and a tiny semblance of a smile curved her mouth. “I’d better go. It’
s my night to wash dishes.” She jumped to her feet. “I wouldn’t bother waiting around on Dad to get off the phone. Billy is a big talker.”

  Well, it wasn’t as if Boone was supposed to hang around and keep her entertained, Dallas thought. In fact, it was probably a good thing that business had called him away. The break had given her a chance to catch her breath and remember why she’d ever come to this ranch in the first place.

  Hayley pointed to a remote control lying on a table near the armchair. “Watch TV if you like. We only get three channels, but I guess that’s better than nothing. We have a few movies for the DVD player, but they’re mostly old.”

  Plucking up her coffee mug, Dallas rose from the sofa. “Why don’t I just help you with the dishes?” she suggested. “That sounds like more fun to me.”

  Hayley was amazed. “Really?”

  Laughing, Dallas motioned toward the open doorway. “Sure. Lead the way.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Boone entered the kitchen just as Hayley was washing the last plate and Dallas was putting silverware away in a drawer. For a moment the domestic sight brought him up short. Since his mother, Elsa, had passed away, there had been no adult women in the house. Seeing Dallas working side by side with his daughter was a blunt reminder of all the things that Hayley was missing, all the things she needed that he couldn’t provide.

  Moving deeper into the room, he asked, “Since when do we put a guest to work, Hayley?”

  “Don’t blame her,” Dallas quickly defended. “I wanted to help.”

  “That’s right, Dad,” Hayley added for good measure. “And it would have been rude for me to refuse.”

  Hayley looked over to Dallas and the two of them exchanged conspiring grins. Boone was totally surprised at his daughter’s sudden change in attitude. Normally, getting a smile out of her was like pulling a tooth. She’d never been one to take to strangers, particularly women. The mistrust of females had something to do with her mother deserting her, Boone figured. But tonight he couldn’t see a drop of wariness toward Dallas. And he didn’t know whether to be glad or worried about this sudden bond she’d developed with Dallas. More than likely the woman would be gone tomorrow. Hayley needed to remember that their guest was just that—a temporary guest.

  He walked over to Hayley. “Okay, but you’d better finish up here and get to bed,” he told his daughter. “Tomorrow is a school day, remember?”

  “Aw, Dad, how could I forget? It’s only Wednesday!” Once again she glanced at Dallas. “And I haven’t finished my math assignment. Dallas says she’ll help me with my homework.”

  Totally bewildered now, Boone looked over at the woman, who’d quickly made herself at home in his house and with his daughter.

  “I thought you said you had your own problems with math.”

  He might have imagined it, but Dallas’s shoulders seem to draw up and her back straighten.

  “You misunderstood. I said I didn’t like it,” she politely corrected. “But once my parents explained exactly how important math was, I studied hard and changed that D into A’s.”

  He couldn’t argue with that, Boone decided. And why would he want to? For the first time, in a long, long time his daughter was showing interest in something other than talking on the phone or holing up in her room with a CD player blasting music.

  “All right,” he said to Dallas. To his daughter, he slanted a pointed look. “I expect you to be in bed in forty minutes. No more.”

  Heaving out a relieved breath, Hayley flashed a smile at Dallas. “I promise, Dad.”

  Close to an hour later, Boone was sitting at a rolltop desk that was situated in an out-of-the-way corner of the kitchen, entering monthly expenditures into the ranch’s bookkeeping ledger. Usually at this late hour, he was in bed, or at the very least, retired to his bedroom to read. But tonight, with a guest in the house, he’d decided to stay up until he was certain she no longer needed anything.

  “Oh. Excuse me.”

  The sound of Dallas’s voice made him jerk his head up and he glanced over his shoulder to see she was standing just inside the doorway. She’d changed into blue pajamas and a robe and though the garments covered every inch of her, they still looked like bedclothes, a thought that sent his senses into overdrive and left him gawking like a teenager.

  As though she could read his thoughts, she clutched the collar of her pajamas to her throat. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just needed a drink of water. To take a pill.” She held up the caplet for him to see. “My bossy doctor sister would have my hide if I didn’t take it.”

  Twisting the swivel chair so that he was facing her, Boone gestured to the refrigerator. “Help yourself. You’ll find a container of chilled water in the fridge.”

  She walked over to the cabinet, pulled down a small juice glass, then stepped over to the refrigerator. As Boone watched her movements he tried to remember the last time he’d felt this physically attracted to woman, but try as he might he couldn’t recall any woman affecting his senses this much.

  “You have…a health problem?” Hell, for all he knew that pill squeezed between her fingers could be birth control, he silently cursed. The notion made the stirring in his loins even more uncomfortable. “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”

  She took a moment to swallow the pill, then replied, “No major health problems. I just need a little extra iron.” Chuckling, she used one hand to motion down her body. “Doesn’t look like I’d have that problem, does it? I take after my grandma Kate, I look as stout as a horse.”

  Boone could have told her that she looked incredibly healthy, vibrant and beautiful to him. But he never said such words to any woman. Once, long ago, he’d said flowery things to Joan, things that he’d thought his wife had wanted and needed to hear. Unfortunately, the words had simply gone into one ear and out the other. She’d been too lost in her own private misery to grasp much of what anyone said to her. Now, so many years had passed since then that Boone doubted he could have that sort of intimate conversation with a woman.

  “That’s good,” he said awkwardly. “That your health is…good.”

  Leaning a hip against the cabinet counter, she folded her arms loosely around her waist and suddenly Boone was wondering what she would look like beneath all those thick bedclothes. Would the rest of her skin look as creamy as her face, would her breasts be full and the nipples pale pink?

  Hell, Boone. Hell, hell! What are you thinking? She isn’t your style. She’s way out of your league. She’ll be gone soon.

  And if those three reasons weren’t enough to steer clear of the woman, Boone thought, there was one more. And it was probably the most important reason of all. She was a good woman. Not a woman to take to his bed.

  “I want you to know I enjoyed Hayley’s company tonight,” she said. “She’s a lovely child and very bright. You must be so proud of her.”

  The mention of his daughter was enough to dampen his erotic thoughts, at least for the moment.

  “It’s not always been easy raising her,” he admitted. “Hayley was only two when Joan left us. And up until then the most I’d ever done was hold a bottle to her mouth or change her diaper. Mom tried to help as best she could, but she always had her hands more than full with Dad. I guess you could say with me and Hayley it was one of those learn as you go things.”

  Even with a few feet separating them, he could see curiosity in her eyes and he wondered if she was viewing his life as some sort of badly written soap opera.

  If so, she wouldn’t be far off, Boone thought wryly. The Barnetts had never been what most people considered normal folks. His family had all the key ingredients for a continuing saga: tragedy, desertions, addictions and heartaches. Oh, yes, Boone’s dour thoughts continued, there’d been plenty of drama, heartaches and loneliness.

  “Your mother isn’t with you anymore?” she asked gently.

  Tossing the pencil onto a stack of statements, he raked a hand through his hair. He didn’t much like talking about his
mother. Not that he hadn’t loved Elsa Barnett. He had. But her love and loyalty had always been directed at her worthless husband. Boone had only gotten the scraps of her affection. Still, she’d tried to do the best she could for her son and that had been far more than Joan had ever managed to do for Hayley.

  “My mom died of a heart attack about five years ago. Since then, Dad’s drinking has gotten a whole lot worse. He blames himself for her death.”

  “Should he?”

  Biting back a sigh, Boone swiped a weary hand over his face. Thinking about his parents, about the years his father had wasted—even worse, the years his mother had lost while she waited for her husband to turn into an upright human being—always left him feeling cold and empty.

  “I’ll put it this way. If I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t find it easy to live with myself.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  He frowned at her. “You’ve been saying that to me a lot this evening. You must be thinking I have a miserable life and family.”

  Surprise widened her eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry,” she said again, and then blushing with embarrassment, she shook her head. “Forgive me, Boone. I’ve not been thinking anything like that. I…actually, I’ve been thinking how different your life is from mine. I mean, things haven’t always been perfect for me, either. And I wish—well, I wish that some things could have been better for you. That’s all.”

  Switching off the lamp on the desk, he rose to his feet and walked over to where she stood with her back resting against the cabinet counter. The scent of flowers drifted to him and lured his senses like a sweet, soft whisper.

  “You’re way off base, Dallas, if you’re feeling sorry for me.”

  Suddenly she tossed her head back and not for the first time since she’d walked into the room, Boone noticed that she’d brushed her hair and the tresses now waved thickly and wildly upon her shoulders. Funny, how his fingers were suddenly tingling to touch and slide against all that silkiness.

  “That,” she said succinctly, “is not what I meant at all.”