Christmas at Twin Falls

by Dahlia Rose

  Chapter Five

  Christmas Eve brought snow and the threat of a major blizzard. Still the Fed Ex truck made it in time, and she had her gift for Beau. She looked out at the fluffy white snowflakes falling lazily to the ground and then to the gift she’d carefully wrapped that sat in her lap. Soon the snow would be so heavy she wouldn’t be able to see the circular hedge pots in the driveway. Beau was outside in the stables taking care of his horses. But when she saw him running across the driveway, she knew something was wrong. Beau usually walked with purposeful strides, never in a hurry to get anywhere but always making it in time. If he was running, there was a reason.

  Not even caring about a coat, she opened the door and stepped outside. “Beau, what’s wrong?”

  “Midnight is down. It’s colic. I’m going to get Cody to help,” Beau said.

  “I saw his truck pull out a little bit ago. He and Kaleena must be out,” Natasha said. “Can I help?”

  “Come with me.” He didn’t even wait for an answer. He moved back across the ground at a dead run.

  Natasha ran inside and grabbed her coat before sitting in the kitchen to lace up her boots. She sprinted out the door and made a beeline for the stables. She could hear him soothing the animal, so she moved toward his voice. On the floor of the stall, in the midst of fresh hay, laid the horse she’d seen him working with in the corral. She didn’t know much about horses except that when they were lying down it was bad.

  “We’ve got to get him up and walking. Lying down and thrashing his legs like he is, he can twist his intestines,” Beau said. “He won’t want to get up, but we have to make him.”

  How do we do that? she wondered but didn’t say it out loud. The horse thrashed not only because it was in pain but also because he hadn’t been tamed as yet, which made it definitely more dangerous.

  “We’re not going to hurt you,” Beau said calmly and stroked the beast’s long neck. “Let me help you. Midnight, you rascal you’ve been breaking out of your stall and overeating.”

  Beau started to hum a song she didn’t recognize, but it seemed to soothe the horse. He slipped a bridle on the horse’s head, and soon they had him up and walking the length of the stables. Fifteen-minute intervals and then they’d put him back into the stall to rest. Each time Midnight wanted to lay down, they didn’t let him. Beau was always with him and giving him medicine or gently talking to the horse. He loved his animals, and the worry on his face was evident until the tide turned and he could tell Midnight was out of danger. Still they kept on and did it for hours until the horse stopped sweating and seemed at ease. The breaking of Midnight wasn’t meant to happen in the corral but in his stall being cared for by his owner. Beau patted the horse’s neck as it looked out over the stall door.

  “No food for you, Midnight Ink,” Beau crooned. “We’ll let your stomach settle.” He moved away and held out his hand to Natasha. “Ready to go inside, honey?”

  Natasha laced her fingers with his and teased, “You smell like horse.”

  Beau laughed and wrinkled his nose. “You do too, Ms. Quinlan. We should shower.”

  “Yeah, we should and then nap,” Natasha said.

  “If I could amend that statement—shower, hot sex, and then nap,” Beau said. “I find that I get horny as hell after a crisis.”

  “I think I could fit you in,” Natasha purred. “Race you to the water.”

  The shower was hot. Steam filled the cubicle as hot passionate kisses were dispensed, and slick hands lathered each other’s bodies. Natasha was amazed at how his hands, so rough and calloused, could ignite such a fire in her body. These were a working man’s hands that fixed fences and baled hay. They were hands that labored to break horses or rope cattle. Yet the way he touched her with such gentleness, care, and infused with passion was her undoing.

  He wrapped her legs around his waist as they left the shower still soaking wet. He put her on the bed, uncaring that they were slick with water. His hands cupped the globes of her breasts, and he engorged himself on her hard nipples. Natasha moaned his name and held his head. Beau lifted her easily, and she was always amazed at how tiny and fragile he made her feel. He lay on the bed and brought her over him. Her nipples were in his mouth once more, and Natasha whimpered in pleasure. She arched her back, pushing more of her smooth globe deeper into his mouth, wanting more. The urge to be devoured by him overrode every other thought.

  “Oh, Beau, please more,” she moaned.

  Natasha could feel his thick cock between her legs making her want and ache to have him inside her. She rubbed against him, the friction on her clit causing sweet pleasure, and he groaned in response.

  “Lord, girl, I’ll fuck you hard if you don’t stop doing that,” he muttered.

  “Do it. Fill me and fuck me hard,” she begged feverishly.

  “Oh no, honey. I like to take my time on each and every curve,” he growled. “I want to have your taste on my tongue.”

  “Make me come with your mouth.” Natasha climbed off him and lay back on the pillows.

  She panted, not feeling like she was getting enough air. She spread her legs and exposed her sex to him, and the heat from his eyes made her juice flow. With a guttural moan, he buried his face between her legs and tasted the core of her sex. Her back arched, and pleasure lanced through her like a bolt of energy. She screamed and clutched the damp sheets beneath her. Beau licked and sucked at her clit before she felt his fingers circle the sensitive flesh of her entrance. He slid his fingers inside her over and over again. She cried out, and she moved her hips, pressing herself more intimately against his lips and seeking hands. She slipped her hands into his thick hair and bucked against him. She could feel herself reaching for the pinnacle of her release. He fucked her harder with his fingers until she came with such force that her body tensed and she lost her breath. Natasha cried out as each sensation assaulted her body, and she came apart under his mouth.

  “I want you inside me. Now, damn it. Beau, now,” she demanded.

  “Oh yes, yes.” His voice was a harsh whisper, and he pulled her over him and brought her down hard onto his cock.

  He was so long and hard he touched places inside her that made her shudder and whimper his name. Half the time she didn’t know if she could take him all, yet knew that she craved every inch.

  “Damn, you so tight. I need more of you.” He pulled her hips down again hard and sent himself deeper inside her. She cried out in ecstasy, and she undulated on the object of her pleasure. Beau groaned and buried his face in the valley of her breasts. His hand reached around and gripped her shoulders pulling her hard against him. The repetitive movements made her tremble until she screamed his name, and his voice combined with hers in a guttural cry.

  “God, yes!” She grabbed his hair and pulled his head from her breasts. They kissed long, hard, and passionately before she pleaded, “Come with me, Beau. Come with me.”

  He pumped himself inside her in deep strokes, pushing himself to the hilt. Her hips rose to meet his every thrust, and she tightened her legs around him. They were glossy with sweat, and she could hear their bodies meet with wet, slick sounds.

  “God, I love you. God, I love you so much,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

  “I’m yours forever, Beau. I love you too,” she gasped out.

  It was as if the dam broke inside her, and Natasha screamed as her body shook from the intensity of her orgasm. Beau called her name and pounded himself inside her until he followed her into his own release. Their bodies heaved as they tried to catch their breath. Natasha lost track of the frantic beats of her heart and just kept her eyes closed until it at last resumed a normal rhythm.

  “I think I need another shower. The last one was dirty,” she murmured.

  “Hmmm.” He sighed in contentment before moving toward her plaint body. “God, I do love you, darling.”

  “I love you too, Beau,” she said. “Is it time for the nap part of the program?”

  “Not quite yet
,” he said and rolled them both until she was beneath him.

  His cock was hard and ready again. He filled her once more and began a slow rhythm that she matched easily. A deep, lingering kiss and then he took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked it deeply between his lips.

  “Oh, God, yes,” she moaned and lifted her hips higher to take him deeper.

  He kissed her long, slow, and deep before giving her a wicked grin. “When it comes to you, baby, my appetite will never be satisfied.”

  Natasha gave in to the need once more and let it consume her. It was after frozen pizza in bed and ice cream that she finally settled in for that nap—in the arms of the man she loved a few hours before Christmas morning.

  * * * *

  She smelled cinnamon, and it tickled her nostrils, tempting her to awaken. She felt around the bed for her man, her Beau. He was gone of course, and she gave a husky laugh. Natasha knew she better get used to it. Men like Beau got up before the sun, but the smell of cinnamon was the curious thing that had her rolling out of bed. What is he up to?

  Natasha knew exactly where to find his T-shirts and sweats, and soon she was clothed heading downstairs. She found quite a sight waiting for her. Breakfast had been set up in front of the fireplace close to the Christmas tree. Beau stood there wearing a Santa’s hat and a fake beard. He held two cups of coffee and a big grin. Natasha paused at the bottom of the steps and took it in before laughing in amazement.

  “What’s all this? Santa in my house wearing a T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms?” she asked stepping into the room.

  “Santa decided to stay and visit with his favorite elf,” Beau said. “Come here and give old Santa a kiss.”

  “I thought after last night, Santa might still be asleep.” Natasha walked into his arms.

  He kissed her gently. “I wanted to do something nice for my favorite girl.”

  “One second, I have to get you my gift.” Natasha ran to the window seat and picked up her package from the cushions. She came back to sit close to him at their makeshift Christmas breakfast picnic. “Here, this is for you. Merry Christmas, Beau.”

  He looked down at the package in his lap and then to her. “When did you have time to shop?”

  “I didn’t. I kinda of threw this together,” Natasha said. “Open it.”

  He tore the paper off and looked down at the hunter green book in his hand. He traced his finger over the golden embossed letters that spelled out the family name, The Everett Family. She watched him as he opened the book to reveal its contents. Pictures of his family, fragments of time forever saved in a book she put together. His parents wedding pictures, them in front of the newly built house, Beau and Cody’s first day home as babies, first birthdays, and family picnics. Beau standing with his blue ribbon at his first rodeo, him and Cody in their football uniforms with Go Huntsford Bulls as the caption. She tried to capture every holiday and birthday and each special event of their lives. She watched him thumb through the pages carefully to the final picture of the family one year before his parents’ death—that final Christmas with all of them by the Christmas tree.

  “Where did you find these pictures?” he asked in a subdued tone.

  “In the crawlspace under the stairs,” Natasha explained. “They were just under there gathering dust and disintegrating. I wanted to give you all the good memories in one place.”

  “You shouldn’t have,” he said.

  “It wasn’t any trouble. That day I went into town I took all the pictures, scanned them into my computer, and fixed the areas that were fading. Biff-bam-boom I built the book and sent it in to my designer, and he got it to me by Fed Ex yesterday before Midnight got sick.” Her explanation was met with silent. “Beau?”

  “I mean you shouldn’t have literally. Natasha, what gave you the right to be searching through my house?” He stood.

  “Really? You’re getting upset because I made you a book of pictures of your family?” Natasha rose and put her hand on his shoulder. “Beau, talk to me.”

  “I told you I wasn’t ready to talk, but you put yourself right in the thick of it trying to make me open up,” he snapped. “Jesus, can’t a man keep any part of himself?”

  Natasha felt her irritation rise. “Whoa, hold up. How is my trying to do something nice for you prying into your dark and secret places? I never asked you to tell me anything.”

  “Well I put those there for a reason, so I wouldn’t have to see them,” Beau said. “This is doing nothing but…”

  “But what?” Natasha demanded. “Making you remember you had parents? Or even better that you had a happy life? Beau they died. They weren’t erased from existence. Hiding the pictures in boxes behind closed doors won’t change that.”

  “What would you know? Did you lose your parents? Did they die because you and your father were having a screaming match?” He turned tortured eyes to her.

  “No, my father and mother are in Florida safe and sound,” Natasha said. “But my mother, hell and me and my dad, have had seriously awful arguments. If they died tomorrow, I would never think they died not loving me. I knew your parents. I saw the pride in their faces every time they came to one of your games at school. I saw your dad, the very same one you argued with in town, telling people how his boy got into Notre Dame not because of a football scholarship but because of his mind. How the hell can you think he’d love you any less because of an argument?”

  “You don’t understand,” Beau said miserably. “The day they died, that morning, I called from Notre Dame and said I wasn’t coming home for Christmas. My mom was so disappointed that I heard the tears in her voice. But hey, there were always other holidays? I’d been invited to some swanky thing in Boston. My dad tore me a new one, told me I hurt my mom and that it was a family tradition to be together for the holidays. I accused him to trying to keep me a country hick. Why the hell did I get sent away to college if I was going to be dragged back to this one horse town? I was a cold-hearted bastard.”

  Even though he said he didn’t want to Beau was telling her everything. It was as if the story was buried inside him and the walls finally crumbled and he had to let it free. Natasha said nothing. She let him pace the room and get it all out. Maybe he’d let himself grieve and forgive himself for something that wasn’t his fault.

  “How could I say that to the man who gave up everything to give me and my brother everything?” Beau raged at himself. “Jesus, the man worked his fingers to the bone to build this ranch, and I pissed on it. He hung up without another word, and in my gut I knew I should’ve called back. But hell I was young, dumb, and full of come so I swaggered off. That night I slept so badly I got up and said fuck it I’m going home.”

  “I got here early Christmas morning, and they were in town at morning service in church. I was going to surprise them and apologize. I even checked my answering machine back in my dorm and heard my mom’s message saying she loved me. She said ‘Merry Christmas, Beau. I’ll love you to the stars and beyond.’” Beau chuckled mirthlessly. “I hated that she still said it, but to her, Cody and I would always be her baby boys. Cody slapped me on the back and told me that we’d all have a laugh over it later. But that didn’t happen.”

  Natasha got up and stopped him from pacing. Their breakfast was forgotten, cold as she made him sit on the couch. He rested his hands on his knees and hung his head.

  “It wasn’t their truck that came up the driveway but the Sheriff.” He heaved a long sigh. “They hit a slick spot and went into the lake and were gone. The doc said they probably froze and were unconscious before they had a chance to drown. My mom was still seatbelted in, but my dad wasn’t. He could have gotten out, but there was no way he would’ve left Mom. So he stayed in the car with her, died with her.”

  “Oh, Beau,” she said softly. Natasha never knew the details, only that they died in the crash, but Beau would have asked to hear it all no matter how bad. He carried it and so much guilt inside him for all these years.

  �
��They died with my hateful words in their ears.”

  “Beau, look at me.” Natasha grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. “They died loving you. Your mom left you a Christmas message on your answering machine. Your dad would’ve hugged the hell out of you, and you would have gone riding in the evening. Later on you’d all be in town with friends and laughing. Life didn’t work out that way. They were taken from you. But, Beau, it wasn’t your fault. Dear God, can’t you see none of it was your fault? Icy roads, a slick patch, these roads are treacherous sometimes in the winter.” She grabbed the book and put it on his lap. “Don’t lock them away. Don’t dishonor them like that. Keep all these for your children, so they will know what wonderful people their grandparents were.”

  “My children, are you planning on having children with me?” His big hand cupped her cheek and caressed her skin. Natasha closed her eyes and leaned into his warm caress.

  “Maybe if you weren’t such a big jerk face,” she murmured. “Yelling at me for doing something nice.”

  “I’m sorry. It was a shock, and it made me confront things I didn’t want to think about. The holidays are hard, and with you here I figured I could write over the past and pretend it’s all ok. But it wasn’t. They’re still dead.”

  “And you’re alive. They would’ve wanted you to live and be happy and make babies with me,” Natasha said gently.

  Beau chuckled. “Yes, they would. You never know. With all the loving we’ve been doing, there might be a little Everett on the way.”

  “Maybe two,” Natasha teased and watched his face turn chalk white. “Remember twins run in the family.”

  “Ok, then I’d better do this before we start a family.” Beau reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. “Natasha Quinlan, I’ve loved and wanted you for so long that I can’t even remember not thinking about you. Marry me and help me build a good life here, raise children here, and carry on something wonderful my parents started.” He took out an elegant ring, silver with startling blue gems running along the ornate plaited lines. “Mom gave me this when I was seventeen. It was my grandmother’s, and she said and I quote. . . ‘For when you finally catch Natasha Quinlan.’”