High Country Christmas

by Joanna Sims

  “Are you okay?” Tyler asked. He was still awake.

  “Yes.” It sounded like a lie because it was a lie.

  It didn’t matter to her body that it was the wrong thing to do. It didn’t matter to her body that the timing was bad. The only thing that her body knew was that it needed Tyler’s body. She rolled onto her back, sexually frustrated once again. Was it completely wrong to ask Tyler to make love to her again when she knew that she was leaving? Was it wrong to ask Tyler to make love to her again when she knew that he wanted much more from her than she was able to give?

  “Tyler?”

  He rolled onto his back and waited for her next words to come.

  “Did you bring the condoms in from the truck?”

  Tyler closed his eyes in silent prayer. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep because he still had a raging erection. He needed London in the worst way, but he hadn’t wanted to take advantage of the situation.

  “They’re downstairs.” He turned his head to look at her profile. “Do you want me to go get them?”

  Quietly, she responded, “Yes.”

  Tyler got out of bed, quickly retrieved the condoms and returned to the loft. The moon provided just enough light for him to see London sit up to pull his shirt over her head. The sight of London sitting naked in the moonlight, her hair falling over her full, creamy breasts, made him pause just to admire her beauty.

  He ripped open the box of condoms while she pulled off her underwear.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked her once he was back in bed.

  London took his hand and guided it between her thighs. He had his answer. She needed him as much as he needed her.

  “My beautiful London,” he said right before he kissed her.

  He kissed her lightly and slowly. He didn’t want to rush this moment. He wanted to enjoy every second that he had her silky skin next to his. He wanted to enjoy every taste of her lips and the sound of every pleasurable gasp that escaped from them. He teased her with his fingers and his tongue until he was certain that she needed him as much as he needed her. London rolled onto her back, her breathing rapid and shallow. She parted her legs for him and Tyler kissed her deeply as he gradually eased his body into hers.

  She pulled her mouth away. “Faster...”

  Tyler held himself back. He put his hands on either side of her face so she had to look up at him.

  “No.” Tonight, he was in control. “This time, we’re going to do this my way.”

  Frustrated and needy, London lifted her hips and tried to take more of him, but he held his body back from her. And no matter how much she protested or squirmed beneath him, he forced her to go at his pace. He filled her body so slowly that it felt like sweet, sweet torture. She realized that she had no choice but to relinquish control, at least temporarily, to him.

  Tyler buried his face in her neck as he slowly buried himself inside her body.

  “London...” He groaned. “You feel like heaven to me.”

  Tyler sank the full length of his shaft within her willing body. He hadn’t expected it, and neither had she, but London climaxed. She knew that they were far away from prying ears, so she threw her head back and cried out loudly as waves of ecstasy rolled out from her core and fanned out over the rest of her body. Tyler held on to her tightly, held himself steady, and waited for her to ride the waves until their very end. Once she was breathless and clinging to him, Tyler gave her exactly what she had demanded from him in the beginning. He made love to her with more passion than he’d even known he was capable of. He kissed her harder and loved her harder than he had ever loved another woman before. He tried to show her with every inch of his body how much he cared about her. His unrestrained passion drove London to a second orgasm, and at the sound of her joyous cries, Tyler found his own powerful release.

  Tyler kissed her lips, her neck, and then slowly eased his body away from hers. Side by side, and on their backs, they let the chilled air cool their skin.

  London was the first to speak. “I have to admit...your way has its benefits.”

  Tyler laughed. “I’m glad you approve.”

  He was encouraged when she didn’t pull her hand back when he reached for it. He knew, in that exact moment, that he loved London. Perhaps he had loved her for a long time and out of self-preservation never admitted it to himself or to her. He loved her. He was in love with her. He needed to tell her how he felt...he would tell her. But not tonight. Tonight, for the first time in his life, Tyler would sleep with his arms around the woman he loved.

  * * *

  The following morning, the bright sunlight brought with it a heavy dose of reality. London had sprung out of bed, shaken Tyler to awaken him and then rushed downstairs so she could take the pregnancy tests. While she was in the bathroom, Tyler got dressed and waited on the love seat for her. She emerged from the bathroom carrying four tests. She sat down next to him and, one by one, laid the tests out in front of them on the coffee table.

  “I feel bad putting pee sticks on your mom’s table.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Tyler stared hard at the tests. “There’s bleach under the sink. What are we looking for?”

  London pointed to each test. “Plus sign, plus sign, two lines, two lines.”

  “If we see a plus sign or two lines, it will mean that yes, you’re pregnant?”

  She nodded. “And a negative sign or one line means that I’m not pregnant.”

  “I...think I see a second line on this one...” He leaned forward to get a closer look at one of the tests. “Do you see a second line, too?”

  London’s body crumpled forward, her hands pressed tightly into her stomach. She didn’t want to see it, but she did see a second line. And then, to make matters worse, she saw a plus sign, too. One by one, the tests came back positive. She was pregnant with Tyler Brand’s child.

  London stared at the four positive tests, her hand over her mouth to stop herself from saying something horrible she might regret later. She wanted to scream and curse and throw something so hard that it would shatter into a thousand pieces. But she couldn’t. So she just sat there, staring and knowing that going to Tyler’s room that night had been a terrible mistake.

  Tyler was staring at the four positive tests as well. Even though he’d known this was a real possibility, he still felt a little bit in shock. And he didn’t know what the heck he should say to London. He had the certain feeling that anything he said was going to be wrong.

  “You’re pregnant,” Tyler said robotically.

  She looked at him as though he was the dullest nail in the toolbox before she stood up, gathered up the offending tests and shoved them back into the bag.

  “I know,” she snapped at him.

  “Do you want to talk about it now?”

  “No.” She jerked a knot into the top of the bag to make certain that the tests wouldn’t fall out when she threw them away. “I don’t want to talk about it. We should head back.”

  Tyler was actually relieved she didn’t want to talk. They both needed some time to adjust to the idea. In his family, there was no such thing as pregnancy without marriage. He was just getting used to the idea of being in love for the first time and now he was on track to be a father. Other than his responsibility to ranching, maturity had never really been high on his priority list. Babies and marriage, especially with a woman like London, would take all manner of maturity.

  He cleaned up downstairs while London tackled the loft. She quickly made the bed and then sat down on the edge of the mattress to look out the window. The world outside that window was so pretty and peaceful and simple. She placed a hand on her flat stomach.

  Pregnant.

  She quickly began to mentally count out the months in her head. If she kept the baby, she’d still be able to finish her last sem
ester as planned. But she would be very pregnant by graduation and she wouldn’t be able to hide it.

  “What have I done?” London closed her eyes tightly and forced the flood of emotions bubbling up inside her back down. There was no sense getting all weepy. It wouldn’t do her a bit of good.

  London stood up, plumped the pillows and then headed down the spiral staircase. Tyler was waiting for her; he watched her closely but didn’t detect any hint that she might have been crying while she was upstairs. He wasn’t all that surprised—she had a stiff-upper-lip attitude. Even so, at the door, he put both hands lightly on her shoulders and waited for her to look at him.

  “London...I promise you,” he said sincerely. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “That’s not a promise you can keep, Tyler.”

  “Yes, it is.” Tyler wrapped his arms tightly around her body, a body that seemed to be trembling from the inside out. “Yes. It is.”

  Chapter Four

  They returned to the ranch undetected and went their separate ways. They both had jobs to do there, and those jobs weren’t going to wait from them to sort out their problems. At the end of his day, Tyler found London in the foaling barn watching over his mother’s mare.

  “How’s she doing?” Tyler asked London quietly.

  London glanced at him to let him know that she had heard him before she focused her attention back to Rising Star. She had moved the mare into the foaling stall located at the quieter end of the stable. Horses liked quiet, dimly lit areas to give birth and often waited until nighttime to foal.

  London used a calm, quiet voice to answer his question. “She’s been showing some pretty strong signs that she’s going into labor. Her nipples are thicker and hanging down lower...”

  “Any sign of waxing?”

  London nodded. Some mares developed a waxy coating on their nipples a couple of days before giving birth, which signaled that they were getting ready to foal. “I was just about to tie up her tail and put down a fresh bed of hay for her.”

  “I’ll grab the hay.”

  While London set herself to the task of wrapping Rising Star’s thick, long tail up and out of the way of the birth canal, Tyler stacked fresh bales of hay outside the stall. They worked in silence, methodically preparing for the birth. Once the tail was wrapped, London left the stall to mix a warm, soapy solution. When she returned with a bucket and sponge, Tyler had already spread the hay around the stall, creating a soft, clean bed for Rising Star.

  London quickly washed Rising Star’s teats, udder, hind legs and muscular buttocks. Tyler grabbed the feed and water buckets, and then they both left Rising Star alone, in peace. They had done everything they could do to help the mare have a successful birth, but the rest was up to her. All they could do now was wait. Watch and wait.

  London slipped into the adjacent stall and sat down in a patch of hay. From her vantage point, she could have her eyes on the pregnant mare without disturbing her. Tyler, to her surprise, joined her in the stall.

  “I thought you were going out with your sisters tonight,” London whispered to him.

  “I never miss a birth at Bent Tree.”

  Tyler leaned back, one leg stretched out straight, the other one bent. He dropped his worn Stetson onto the ground next to him, rested one arm atop his bent knee and riffled his longish light brown hair. Then he dropped his head backward to rest it on one of the stall’s wooden slats and closed his eyes with a long, tired sigh.

  London frowned at him. “If you have to stay, you know you have to be quiet, right?”

  “You’re the one who’s talking.” Tyler’s mouth lifted at the corner, but he didn’t open his eyes.

  “Shh.” She scooted away from him an inch or two. “And quit crowding me.”

  Tyler crossed his arms over her chest. “Wake me when it’s time.”

  Within minutes of shutting his eyes, Tyler fell asleep sitting upright. She’d never seen anything like it before. But then again, she’d never seen anyone like Tyler Brand before. He was such a hard worker, dedicated to the ranch and his family. Tall. Lean. Cowboy rugged. Cowboy handsome. And he made her laugh. It had been a chore to push him away. There had been chemistry between them from the start—he had felt it, and even though she had consistently denied it to his face, she had felt it, too. She just couldn’t allow herself to act on the attraction and risk losing focus on her primary goal: get her degree and get back to Virginia ASAP.

  For nearly two hours, London sat very still, waiting for the mare to begin labor. As one hour blended into the second, nighttime cooled the air and dimmed the light in the barn. The sounds of the ranch quieted as the last of the ranch workers started their trucks and slammed their doors, their loud voices fading as they drove away. Knowing that mares were known to wait until the stillness of the night to give birth, London had turned on a low-wattage light in the foaling stall so she could still see Rising Star as day transitioned to night.

  Tyler was still asleep, it was dark and a little cold, and she had to pee really badly, but she didn’t dare move. The slightest noise could stop the mare from starting labor. Fifteen minutes later, her patience paid off. Rising Star began to pace in the stall, making short, tight circles. The mare nipped at her flanks several times before her legs buckled at the knees and she lay down on her side with a moan. Flat on her side, legs extended, her nose nuzzled into the thick bed of hay, Rising Star was in labor.

  London hit Tyler on the leg. He stirred but was savvy enough not to make a noise. In a spontaneous show of excitement, they reached for each other’s hands, squeezing tightly. This was the moment she had been working toward since she had arrived at Bent Tree. She felt a personal connection with this foal. During her junior-year internship, Tyler’s mom had asked her to research bloodlines and select a sire for Rising Star’s insemination. When she returned to the ranch to start her summer job, she discovered that Rising Star was pregnant by the sire she had chosen. She felt honored to be the one to care for the mare and her unborn foal in the last stages of a pregnancy. And, now that she knew for certain that Rising Star was in labor, she had to be kind to her bladder.

  A quick bathroom break, then back to her post. It was so still in the barn, she could hear the sound of Tyler’s breathing intermingled with her own. He shifted every once in a while, his arm brushing against hers, but other than that, he was a perfect witness to the beginning of the birth of her foal.

  She checked the time on her phone. Rising Star had been down for thirty minutes, but the white amniotic sac hadn’t appeared. London had an odd, sick feeling in her gut. She shook her head as she stood up.

  “We need to try to get her on her feet,” she told Tyler.

  Tyler switched on the aisle lights before he followed London into the foaling stall. London had hooked a lead line on the mare’s halter and she was talking in a sweet, calming voice to the horse.

  “She’s having hard contractions,” London confirmed. “We should have seen the sac by now. I’m concerned that the foal might be presented wrong.”

  “Dystocia.” Tyler positioned himself at the mare’s hindquarters.

  London looked at him, surprised. “Yes. Help me get her up.”

  He had heard about London’s ability to stay perfectly cool under pressure, but he’d never witnessed it firsthand. She was calm, confident and certain of every move. She was elegance in motion.

  After several attempts, they coaxed the mare to stand.

  “Come on, Star...” London led the mare out of the stall. “Let’s you and me go for a little walk...”

  The three of them walked together, up and down, up and down the long, wide breezeway of the barn. Tyler stayed at the mare’s flank to stop her from lying down in the aisle when the contractions started to cause her pain.

  “We’ll walk her for ten more minutes and then take her b
ack. Hopefully the walking has repositioned the foal and Star will be able to do this on her own,” London told him.

  Tyler didn’t usually take a backseat in the deliveries on the ranch, but he knew that London had devised a birthing plan with the vet. She needed to run the show. He didn’t care about being in charge—all he cared about was seeing Star safely deliver a healthy foal.

  “If this doesn’t work, then we’ll have to call the vet and let him know that he needs to stand by for a possible breech,” London continued. “After we get her back in the stall, we’ll give this a chance to resolve naturally, but if it doesn’t, I’ll have to glove up and try to reposition the foal manually and—”

  “London,” Tyler interrupted her. “The placenta...”

  They took Star back to the stall, dimmed the aisle lights and went back to their post. This was the hardest part—remaining still and silent so as not to disturb the birth.

  “We have hooves...” Tyler whispered next to her ear.

  Excited, she grabbed his arm and squeezed it tightly before she let go. Hooves first meant that the foal had repositioned during their walk and was presented properly now. And it appeared that the fetal sac, a sac that protected the foal once the placenta had broken, was still intact. For a second or two, London closed her eyes and thanked God. But her initial excitement shifted back to concern when Star was pushing and pushing without any success. The mare was already exhausted and the foal wasn’t halfway into the world.

  “We have to assist. If not, we’re going to have a dead foal on our hands.”

  The mare’s neck was drenched with sweat. Tyler knelt down by her head and started to talk to Star, reassuring her, while London slipped on a gown that covered the front of her clothing and gloves that went up well past her elbows.

  “All right, girl...” London positioned herself behind the mare. “Looks like we’re going to have to get this done together.”