by Barb Han
That’s where Wyatt’s empathy for the man stopped. Because everyone was dealt a bad hand at some point in his or her life. Emotions like revenge or resentment made the situation so much worse, poisoning any good left in a person.
The true measure of a man wasn’t what he did when he fell down. It was how he got back up and what he made of his life after.
And that made him rethink the resentments he’d formed toward his family. And, besides, the holiday was near. Christmas was a time for miracles...
Chapter Sixteen
Meg could scarcely believe that she was still alive and that Wyatt was standing in front of her. Both of them were completely intact if not a little worse for wear. The EMT had cleared her after treating her injuries and the Butler twins had arrived with reassurances that Aubrey was safe at the ranch. Meg was pleased that her daughter’s new family seemed protective of her already.
Meg’s left jaw burned from the pain of several blows. Feeling was returning to her hands and Wyatt’s coat was the only warmth. She wanted to hold her daughter again so badly her arms ached.
Wyatt was about the most beautiful thing she could ever see aside from Aubrey.
“I don’t care where we live or why,” he started, taking her hands in his. “All I know is that I want to make everything right for you, our daughter and our family.”
And then he looked at her with so much love in his eyes she had to steady herself.
“I have an important question to ask, Meg Anderson.” He bent down on one knee, causing what felt like a flock of birds to take flight inside her rib cage.
“I knew I was in trouble the minute we met a year ago. I was an idiot to let you walk out of my life then. But I like to think I’m smarter than that now. That I don’t make the same mistakes twice. I love you. It’s always been you and it always will be you.” He paused like he’d already said too much and there was a moment of uncertainty in his eyes as he searched hers.
“I will never love another man as much as I love you,” she said. There was so much relief playing out in his features as she said those words.
“Then there’s only one thing left to ask.” Another flash of uncertainty danced across his steel eyes, which disappeared the second Meg smiled. “Will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my wife?”
“I want to say yes,” she hedged.
“But?”
“How will we know it’s real? I mean, my hormones are out of whack and you just found out that you’re a father. It’s only natural to want—”
Wyatt pressed his lips to hers to stop her from finishing the sentence and she melted against him. He thoroughly kissed her, and when she was out of breath, he pulled back and looked into her eyes.
“Does that feel fake in any way to you?” he asked.
A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth so he kissed her there, too.
“Not in the least,” she admitted, allowing the smile to spread. “When did you know?”
“The first time we kissed the other day. Didn’t take a half second to realize in my heart that you were the only one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. My brain took a little while to get the message, but in here—” he touched her hand to the center of his chest “—there’s never been a question. At least not for me.”
He released her hand and folded his arms across his chest. “But now it’s your move.”
The minute she smiled, he had his answer. Hearing the words was even better.
“Yes, Wyatt. I’ll be your wife. I love you. It’s always been you. I knew last year that I was in trouble, and I couldn’t be happier to make the three of us official.”
With that, he stood and took her in his arms. He said in almost a whisper against her hair, “I want to spend the rest of my life making every one of your dreams come true.”
“Welcome to the family, Meg,” Dalton said. It would be strange to have so many uncles, aunts and cousins for Aubrey. Meg’s heart danced because she’d be gaining a family, too.
Meg had never seen Wyatt look so happy.
“I was an only child my entire life. I might not be good at being a brother, but I sure as hell promise to do my best,” Wyatt said to his brothers.
Dade smiled, embraced Wyatt in a bear hug and offered his well wishes. “Ella said your daughter is the sweetest thing she’s ever seen. She’s sleeping like an angel and the two of you should take your time coming back.” He smiled conspiratorially. “Between you and me I wouldn’t be surprised if Ella made her own announcement about a baby any day now.”
Dalton seemed shocked. “You think our sister’s pregnant?”
“Maybe not now. But she will be. I saw the glittery look in her eyes when she first held her niece and the way she looked at her husband after.”
“Holden’s a good guy. He’ll make a fine father someday,” Dalton said.
Niece. Brothers. Family.
Wyatt completed the picture of everything Meg had ever hoped for. For her future and her little girl’s. She couldn’t wait to start their journey as a real family. There was no better time to start than Christmas.
* * *
ED STAPLES TOOK his place at the dining table at last. It had been three days since Jonathon’s arrest. A wedding date had been set for the morning of New Year’s Eve.
“On behalf of Mike Butler, I’ve been instructed to officially welcome you to the family,” Ed said to Wyatt with a glance toward Meg and the baby cooing in her arms.
Wyatt thanked him as Meg smiled before returning her gaze to their daughter.
“As you all know the sheriff hasn’t made any progress on your father’s case. However, I’ve been instructed to read this letter to you. So, if everyone’s ready.” Ed scanned the faces at the table, looking for confirmation.
“Ed’s been giving us these letters after Dad’s murder, which almost makes me believe that he knew what was coming,” Ella said.
“On the outside, your father seemed haphazard with the way he lived life, made his decisions,” Ed said after contemplating her words for a minute.
“But I knew him better than that,” Ella said.
“Maybe we’ll all know at some point but he never said anything to me. His instructions were clear. If anything happened to him, read the letters he left for me in order,” Ed supplied.
“Have you thought about giving them to the sheriff?” Ella asked.
“Your father was clear and he had me build in the controls to keep them out of court. If the sheriff asks, I’m to refuse. It would take a court order, but then I have controls in place to cover that base, too. Your father was always one step ahead,” Ed admitted.
“Which leads me to believe that he didn’t know who killed him,” Ella said. “If he’d known anything was going to happen to him, he had to know there’d be chaos after his death that could put all of us in jeopardy.”
“I’ll reserve judgment until I open the last letter,” Ed stated.
Ella gasped. She had to be thinking what Meg was... Would more Butler children come out of the woodwork?
To her credit, she’d been welcoming to Wyatt and to Meg. It was clear that she was enamored with Aubrey, and Meg suspected that Dalton had been right about what he said before. Ella would be making an announcement of her own before long. She and Holden seemed enraptured with each other, and there was a longing in Ella’s eyes when she looked at the baby.
“Two letters are left. And then there’s the reading of the will in a couple of days,” Ed said.
“I’m guessing you haven’t opened that, either,” Ella said.
Ed confirmed with a nod. “I’m to open it in the presence of all Mike’s children on Christmas Eve.”
Conversation stilled.
Dalton finally chimed in. “It’ll be strange this year.”
Dade was nodding his head in agreement along
with their older sister. “Did Cadence say when she was coming home?”
“Christmas Eve. She said she’ll be here for the reading,” Ella said.
“She’s been gone too long.” Dade put his hand on the table, palms down.
“We’re each dealing with our father’s death in our own way,” Ella reminded.
Both of the twins nodded. Strange that Meg could already tell them apart. At first glance, they looked so similar it had been impossible. But as soon as she had spent a little time around them she saw the different personalities come through.
“What’s in my letter?” Wyatt, who had been quiet until now, asked.
With a half smile and a nod, Ed opened the sealed envelope sitting in front of him.
Wyatt,
I won’t make excuses. Your mother did right by you. I didn’t. There’s no reason in the world I should’ve allowed that to happen. I’ve failed as a man, as a father. But—and if you’re reading this, something’s happened—there is something I did get right in this world. My six children. It is my sincere wish that the children who grew up under my roof haven’t adopted my cruelty. I’ve seen four of them band together because of me. I’m not proud of that, but I am of them. They showed me what it was like to have a family. I’m gone before I had a chance to express that I knew what that truly meant. Seeing them together, the way they supported each other. That’s my real legacy. Watching it has been my greatest gift. One I didn’t deserve. I hope they can embrace you and Madelyn the same. You deserve that much from me. The lake house you’ve been wanting is yours if you’ll take it. I’d always intended to give it to your mother. She wouldn’t accept it or anything else from me. She said the only hope you had of making something of yourself was to grow up like I did, with nothing. I hope you’ll consider being part of this family. If not for you, then for your children. Because I can tell you from experience, walking alone in life eventually leaves you lonely.
Yours,
M.M.
Meg looked to Wyatt, whose head was bowed. She could see a tear leak from his eye as his siblings, one by one, came over to shake his hand or embrace him.
“How’d he know that I was trying to buy the lake house?” Wyatt finally asked.
Dade shrugged his shoulders and looked to Madelyn.
“He kept tabs on us over the years,” she supplied. “Can’t say that I’m surprised.”
Meg knew for certain that the family he’d always craved was right there. For him. For Aubrey. For the three of them.
Her heart swelled as they hugged her and took turns marveling at their little girl, touching her cheek or her tiny hand. Aubrey welcomed all the attention.
“Welcome to Hereford ranch officially,” Dalton finally said. “This is as much your place as it is ours. Every family member has a home and a job here. And we’re looking forward to starting new Christmas traditions with our expanding family.”
Dade added, “We can be overwhelming at times but you’ll never find more caring than with this crazy bunch. Welcome to the family.”
“Glad to finally be home,” Wyatt said.
Dalton shook Wyatt’s hand before saying, “I’m proud to be your brother. Now let’s fire up the barbecue grill and celebrate Texas style so we can plan a proper Christmas together.”
Wyatt shot a smile at Meg, a real smile. And she could see that they finally fit in somewhere. Together. As a family. With a real place to call home.
* * * * *
Look for the next book in USA Today
bestselling author Barb Han’s
Crisis: Cattle Barge miniseries,
Murder And Mistletoe, available next month.
And don’t miss the previous books in the series:
Sudden Setup
Endangered Heiress
Texas Grit
Available now from Harlequin Intrigue!
SPECIAL EXCERPT FROM
When wealthy cattleman Callen Laramie is called back home to Coldwater, Texas, for a Christmas wedding, he has no idea just how much his
attendance will matter to his family...and to the woman who’s never been far from his thoughts—or his heart.
Read on for a sneak preview of
Lone Star Christmas
by USA TODAY bestselling author
Delores Fossen.
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Lone Star Christmas
by Delores Fossen
CHAPTER ONE
DEAD STUFFED THINGS just didn’t scream Christmas wedding invitation for Callen Laramie. Even when the dead stuffed thing—an armadillo named Billy—was draped with gold tinsel, a bridal veil and was holding a bouquet of what appeared to be tiny poinsettias in his little armadillo hands.
Then again, when the bride-to-be, Rosy Muldoon, was a taxidermist, Callen supposed a photo like that hit the more normal range of possibilities for invitation choices.
Well, normal-ish anyway.
No one had ever accused Rosy of being conventional, and even though he hadn’t seen her in close to fourteen years, Billy’s bridal picture was proof that her nonnormalcy hadn’t changed during that time.
Dragging in a long breath that Callen figured he might need, he opened the invitation. What was printed inside wasn’t completely unexpected, not really, but he was glad he’d taken that breath. Like most invitations, it meant he’d have to do something, and doing something like this often meant trudging through the past.
Y’all are invited to the wedding of Buck McCall and Rosy Muldoon. Christmas Eve at Noon in the Lightning Bug Inn on Main Street, Coldwater, Texas. Reception to follow.
So, Buck had finally popped the question, and Rosy had accepted. Again, no surprise. Not on the surface anyway, since Buck had started “courting” Rosy several years after both of them had lost their spouses about a decade and a half ago.
But Callen still got a bad feeling about this.
The bad feeling went up a notch when he saw that the printed RSVP at the bottom had been lined through and the words handwritten there. “Please come. Buck needs to see you. Rosy.”
Yes, this would require him to do something.
She’d underlined the please and the needs, and it was just as effective as a heavyweight’s punch to Callen’s gut. One that knocked him into a time machine and took him back eighteen years. To that time when he’d first laid eyes on Buck and then on Rosy shortly thereafter.
Oh man.
Callen had just turne
d fourteen, and the raw anger and bad memories had been eating holes in him. Sometimes, they still did. Buck had helped with that. Heck, maybe Rosy had, too, but the four mostly good years he’d spent with Buck couldn’t erase the fourteen awful ones that came before them.
He dropped the invitation back on his desk and steeled himself up when he heard the woodpecker taps of high heels coming toward his office. Several taps later, his assistant, Havana Mayfield, stuck her head in the open doorway.
Today, her hair was pumpkin orange with streaks of golden brown, the color of a roasted turkey. Probably to coordinate with Thanksgiving, since it’d been just the day before.
Callen wasn’t sure what coordination goal Havana had been going for with the lime-green pants and top or the lipstick-red stilettos, but as he had done with Rosy and just about everyone else from his past, he’d long since given up trying to figure out his assistant’s life choices. Havana was an efficient workaholic, like him, which meant he overlooked her wardrobe, her biting sarcasm and the occasional judgmental observations about him—even if they weren’t any of her business.
“Your two o’clock is here,” Havana said, setting some contracts and more mail in his inbox. Then she promptly took the stack from his outbox. “George Niedermeyer,” she added, and bobbled her eyebrows. “He brought his mother with him. She wants to tell you about her granddaughter, the lawyer.”
Great.
Callen silently groaned. George was in his sixties and was looking for a good deal on some Angus. Which Callen could and would give him. George’s mother, Myrtle, was nearing ninety, and despite her advanced age, she was someone Callen would classify as a woman with too much time on her hands. Myrtle would try to do some matchmaking with her lawyer granddaughter, gossip about things that Callen didn’t want to hear and prolong what should be a half-hour meeting into an hour or more.
“Myrtle said you’re better looking than a litter of fat spotted pups,” Havana added, clearly enjoying this. “That’s what you get for being a hotshot cattle broker with a pretty face.” She poked her tongue against her cheek. “Women just can’t resist you and want to spend time with you. The older ones want to fix you up with their offspring.”