She reacted as if he had given her a time bomb instead of a gift. Lips tightening in distress, she protested, “But...it’s not Christmas yet. I haven’t even gotten you your gift.”
Like he cared what she gave him, if she let him fully into her and her son’s life, the way he desperately wanted to be. He regarded her steadily. “I want you to have this now,” he told her solemnly, giving her hands another gentle squeeze. “So you’ll feel better right away.”
Still holding his gaze, Molly drew a deep breath, some of her usual good cheer returning. “Well, now I’m curious...”
She eased open the seal. Unfolded the contract. Read quietly. Blinked once and then again. She stared at him uncomprehendingly. “You’re gifting me half ownership of Mistletoe?” She narrowed her eyes as if it couldn’t possibly be true.
Heart filling with all he felt for her, he confirmed, “And Braden will get half ownership in Mistletoe Jr.” Imagining the little tyke’s reaction, Chance grinned. “So he actually will have all his wishes come true and get a Leo and Lizzie train set and a real live bull for Christmas. Which, of course, will be kept at Bullhaven Ranch.”
The pages detailing the gift fluttered to her lap. One hand splayed across her heart. “This is crazy,” she gasped.
“It’s what you and Braden deserve,” he said. And so much more!
Molly thrust the papers back at him. Pushing him aside with one arm, she shot to her feet. “Chance, you can’t do this on a whim!”
“I’m not.” It hurt that she would even think that.
Her delicate brow arched.
“I’ve been thinking about it for days,” he rushed to confess. “Wanting to do it.” Just not sure how...
She stared at him, clearly not believing a word he said. “You never share interest in your bulls or co-own them with anybody!”
“Until now,” he admitted. “You’re right. I haven’t.”
Expression grim, she snatched up the gift notification and waved it in front of his face. “This is worth—”
“Millions, yes.” If that didn’t prove his devotion to her and to Braden, what would?
Molly swallowed, tears filling her eyes. “And it’s completely one-sided,” she said as if he had just plotted to utterly destroy her, heart and soul. Instead of make her feel as safe and secure as she had always wanted to be. “You’re giving me a ton of revenue.”
Including stud fees and endorsements for the retired Mistletoe? Potential winnings for Mistletoe Jr.? He nodded. “Six figures annually, easy.” Enough to make relocating herself and her son completely unnecessary. Starting now.
Molly’s chin quivered. “And I’m giving you nothing in return.”
Okay, maybe he should have considered how the ultra-independent and self-reliant Molly would feel about any one-sided arrangement.
He could still fix this.
“I wouldn’t say that.” He attempted a joke to lighten the mood. “I wouldn’t mind, say, a lifetime supply of breakfast stollen or homemade German pastries and cookies.”
She shook her head. “Chance, this is too much. It’s way too much. It’s—” Her voice caught on a small sob. She gulped, unable to go on.
Oh, God, he’d hurt her. Which was the last thing he wanted. He pulled her into his arms. Abruptly feeling like his whole life was on the line, he buried his face in the softness of her hair. “The best Christmas gift I could think of to give you.”
Her slender body hunched in defeat. “Just like with the Leo and Lizzie train set,” she recollected sadly.
He knew he’d gone way overboard there. Maybe here, too. But they had fixed that. And they could fix this, too, if she gave him half a chance. “I care about you and Braden.” He let her go long enough to get down on one knee, take both her hands in his. “And if this is what it takes to persuade you to stay in Laramie County, then...” His voice got rusty.
“Wow.” Molly shook her head, still looking completely shell-shocked, and something else he couldn’t identify. Something really treacherous. Her low voice was taut as a string on a violin. “I don’t know what to say.” She disengaged their hands.
Trying not to read too much into her stiff posture, he rose. Leaning down, he massaged the tense muscles of her shoulders and whispered in her ear, “How about yes?”
“Braden’s daddy wanted to pay us to go away.” Her voice rich with irony, she placed both her hands on his chest and shoved him away. “Now you’re trying to pay us to stay!”
She shook her head, tears flowing from her eyes. “What’s that saying?” she asked as if something inside her had been broken irrevocably. Staring at him, she lifted her chin. “The rich really are different?”
Her words stung. He was not the one here with a cash register for a heart. “You act like I’m trying to insult you,” he fired back just as angrily.
Amber eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you?”
Gut tightening, he stepped back. Aware that the thought of a life without her and Braden was more than he could bear, he reminded her, “You’re the one who’s always said what you really want is that big financial safety net so you’ll never have to worry.” He paused to let the weight of his words, the sheer enormity of his gift, sink in. He spoke slowly and deliberately, so if she thought about it long and hard enough, she would understand this was a gift from the heart, pure and simple. “I’m giving you that.” He was offering to extend his family and merge it with hers. There was no greater gift.
She nodded, her expression maddeningly inscrutable. “Because, as you’ve said before, money means nothing to you.”
“Well, you can’t take it with you.” Once again, his attempt to lighten the mood with a joke fell flat. He tried again. “You know money doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“Except it does mean something to you, Chance, just in a very different way.” Her low voice trembled with emotion. “For you, it’s the freedom to do what you want, when you want, how you want. Without ever having to worry about it.”
He shrugged, not about to argue that. “I agree. It’s a means to an end.”
“Something that allows you to buy whatever you want and or need? Like, say, me?”
He would never be that coarse and manipulative. And if she thought that...did she really know him at all? Did they know each other? His frustration rising, he bit out, “I’m not asking you to be my mistress, Molly.”
To his surprise, she looked even more betrayed. “Don’t you get it, Chance?” Her voice was as flat and final as the look in her eyes. “I wouldn’t accept a gift like this from you even if I were your wife!”
Clearly, Chance noted, that was something not about to happen, either. Unless he miraculously managed to fix things.
He spread his hands wide. Tried again. “You’re taking this all wrong—”
This time it was she who cut him off with an imperious lift of her hand.
“No, Chance,” she reiterated. “I’m not. In fact, I understand exactly what you’re trying to do here. And that’s fix something that can’t be fixed by throwing money at it.”
He was getting a little tired of being accused of being mercenary when she was the one all about cold hard cash! He glared right back. “There are worse things than searching for a solution, Molly.”
“Not like that, not in my view.” She steamrolled past, gorgeous ice princess on parade. Her lips pursed. “Which is why this affair has to end.”
Another sucker punch to the gut. What little holiday cheer he had in him evaporated completely.
“You’re breaking up with me?” he asked, staring at her in disbelief. “Because you didn’t like my gift?”
She grabbed her coat and bag and rushed out the door as if her heart were breaking, pausing only to send him one last glance. “You’re damn right I am.”
Chapter Fifte
en
Early on December 24th, Molly put her personal devastation aside, and set out, as per tradition, to deliver her holiday gifts while Braden played with friends. First stop? The beloved Circle H Ranch.
A warm and welcoming look on her face, Lucille ushered Molly into the bunkhouse where the matriarch planned to continue to live until after the holidays. At which point she’d relocate to the recently renovated main ranch house. She accepted the festive platter of German holiday cookies. “Did you bake all these?”
With Chance’s help.
But that had been when he’d been at her home almost nightly. Now that seemed unlikely to ever happen again.
A fact Braden was lamenting, too.
Her son hadn’t stopped asking for Cowboy Chance.
And Chance was keeping his distance. Going so far as secreting the Leo and Lizzie train set over to Molly’s house via his little sister, Sage. So it would be there for her to wrap and Braden to receive “from Santa” Christmas morning, as planned.
Had things turned out otherwise, had Chance not shown her how different they were and always would be, he would have been there, too.
Sharing in the joy. Making the three of them feel like family.
Pushing away the dreams of what might have been, Molly smiled at his mother. “I wanted to say thank you for all you’ve done for me and for Braden over the last year,” she said sincerely.
Lucille responded with a warm hug. “It was my pleasure. And now I have something for you!” She brought something from her desk. “Here is the list of people who’ve contacted me since the Open House about you doing some work for them.”
Molly looked at the printout containing twenty names. She forced a wry smile. “Who says Christmas can’t come early?”
Lucille beamed as proudly as if she had been Molly’s mother. “Women in my circle like to redecorate yearly, and thanks to the work you did at the ranch house, they all want you.”
Molly was pleased with the results. She could not, however, take full credit. “It wasn’t just me and my contractors. Chance and his craftsmen put in a lot of effort, too.”
Lucille poured Molly a cup of coffee and gestured for her to have a seat at the long plank table. “The two of you make a really good team.”
A lump rose in Molly’s throat. “We did.”
Lucille brought cream and sugar to the table. She sat down. “So it’s over?”
So over. Yet even as she thought it, it sounded so final. Too final...
Her heart aching, Molly wiped at a tear spilling down her cheek. Had he only understood her. But he hadn’t. “He tried to bribe me into staying here in Laramie.”
Lucille frowned. “That was wrong. What you do with your future should be your decision. Period.”
The irony was Molly had just about decided to stay in Laramie, not just until summer but permanently. Would have, had Chance not shown her what he really thought of her. Although she supposed at least some of that was her fault, since up to now she had based all her life goals on the premise of one day earning more money and securing a very healthy nest egg to fall back on.
“You have to do what is right for you and your son,” Lucille continued, patting the back of Molly’s hand. She drew back and looked in her eyes, advising gently, “Just don’t let your pride stand in the way.”
Pride? Could that be all it was? Molly hesitated. Ready to partake of the older woman’s wisdom, she asked, “What do you mean?”
Lucille ran her hand over the rim of her coffee cup. “When my late husband and I dreamed up the Lockhart Foundation, I am ashamed to admit, it was as much about increasing the stellar reputation of our family as the good works we planned to do with all our accumulated wealth.”
Molly paused. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
Lucille exhaled in regret. “Maybe not now, but I’ve learned some hard lessons along the way.”
Molly guessed Lucille was referring to the financial scandal with the foundation the previous summer that had since been resolved.
Lucille fingered the pearls at her neck. “Although I’d sat on many boards, I’d never actually run a nonprofit.”
Molly sipped her coffee. “And that was a problem?”
Grimly, Lucille recollected, “From the very beginning, I realized I was in over my head, but I’d made such a big deal about being the CEO, and I knew it was what Frank had envisioned for my future before he died, so I stayed on the wrong path for much longer than I should have. Because I didn’t want to admit I’d made the wrong decision.”
Like she was making a mistake now? Molly wondered uneasily.
“Don’t let your understandable anger with Chance now rob you of the long-term security that you crave.”
Aware Lucille was the closest thing she’d had to a mother in a very long time, Molly fought back the tears clogging her throat. “You think I should stay in Laramie?” In the community where I grew up, with all my friends? And, like it or not, the man who still turns my heart inside out with just a glance?
Tenderly, Lucille shook her head. “Only you can intuit what is right for you and Braden, Molly. Just know that if you find yourself headed in the wrong direction, like I once was, that U-turns are not just allowed—they’re recommended.”
* * *
ON THE MORNING OF Christmas Eve, Chance sat in his kitchen, looking at the set of legal papers he had tried to give Molly before she had shown him the door.
Slowly, he unwrapped the last tiny bit of Christmas stollen he’d stored in his fridge and took a bite. Once fragrant, soft and delicious, it was now hard, dry and...still delicious. Like a yuletide biscotti.
He sighed, swallowing the last bite he’d been—up till now—unable to part with. Maybe because he had known in his heart that he and Molly would never work out the way he wanted.
Would it have made a difference if he’d told her how he felt about her and Braden, before he’d shown her the legal papers he had hoped would create their family and cement their future?
He didn’t know.
Now, would never know...
Outside, he heard the sound of multiple vehicles. Doors slamming. Footsteps coming across his porch.
Grimacing—because he had an idea who this was—he rose and went to answer the insistent knock on his door.
All four of his siblings stood on the porch. Including Zane, his youngest brother, a Special Ops soldier who was usually deployed to parts unknown.
“What happened to you?” Chance gave Zane a hug. Glad to see he was all in one piece, even if Zane did sport a fading bruise across his jaw, and a thick bandage encompassed his left hand.
“The usual,” Zane replied cheerfully, looking happy to be home in time for Christmas—something that had almost never happened since he had enlisted.
“You could tell me, but then you’d have to...” Chance mimed a knockout, finishing the age-old combat joke.
“Sounds like I might need to do that anyway,” Zane said, hugging him fiercely, before striding in. “What were you thinking? Giving your woman two live bulls for Christmas!”
“They weren’t her only Christmas gift!” Chance retorted. He’d had something even better and more romantic planned for that. Not that he’d ever gotten an opportunity to give that present to her.
Wyatt followed, still in ranch clothes. “Just an enticement?”
Chance threw up his hands. “I was trying to give her a reason to stay here in Laramie County, where she belongs.”
Garrett strolled in, too. Now happily married himself, he seemed to be the resident expert on domestic bliss. He prodded, “Just not the right reason?”
Chance exhaled in exasperation. “Molly’s never made any secret of the fact she wants real financial security for herself and her son. Big-time connections. She could have had all
that with me.” Even if social climbing was definitely not his thing.
“Just not what every woman wants most of all,” Sage murmured, shutting the door behind them.
“And what is that?” Chance asked in frustration. What was everyone seeing that he was missing?
“If you don’t know the answer,” she scoffed, “you’re more clueless than any of us thought!”
Silence fell all around.
Still on the hot seat, Chance eventually asked Sage, “I’m guessing you organized this?”
His little sister nodded, appearing as ridiculously romantic as ever. “I figured you might not listen to me.”
True, Chance thought.
“But with all of us here,” she insisted stubbornly, “we might have a chance of getting through to you.”
He appreciated the sentiment behind their support, if not their actual interference. Chance folded his arms across his chest. “Thanks, but I don’t need help with my love life.”
Garrett squinted. “The facts say you do.”
Wyatt made himself at home. “Look, Chance, we can all see that Molly is the one for you.”
Still favoring his injured hand, Zane eased onto a stool, too. “From what I’ve heard from Mom, the only one.”
Glad his Special Forces brother had made it through whatever calamitous event caused his injuries, Chance asked, “Why isn’t Mom here, if this is a family meeting?”
“Because,” Garrett said triumphantly, “she’s at the Circle H, talking to Molly.”
Hope rose within Chance. He knew how much Molly loved and respected his mother. If anyone could get his woman—and he admitted he still considered Molly to be his woman—to reconsider their breakup, it was bound to be the matchmaking Lucille.
He studied the faces of his siblings. “Is Mom having any success?”
Shrugs all around. “No clue. You’ll have to meet up with Molly to find that out,” Wyatt advised.
“The point is,” Sage added, “you have an opportunity to make this Christmas the most memorable one you’ve ever had, Chance, if you can find it in your heart to stop trying to steer the situation to your advantage. Ignore the shield Molly is hiding behind. And give her what she really wants and needs, most of all.”
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