Christmas with My Cowboy

by Diana Palmer

  Samantha snorted. “You’re joking.”

  “I mean it. I’ve invited Darcey.”

  “You’re only saying that,” Samantha moaned. “You’d never do it. You’d never do it, would you, Mum?”

  “I have. My decision. I take full responsibility.”

  “Sweet Jesus!”

  Sophie, a lapsed Catholic, spoke up. “Dearest girl, please don’t take the Lord’s name. Not at Christmas.”

  “I’m praying to Him, Mum. Are you looking to me for backup?”

  “Of course I am. You always back me up.”

  “I should have been much stricter with you.” Samantha gave a frustrated shake of the head. It was her task, after all, to curb her mother’s excesses. She and Scott had agreed on it. “You can apologize to me for not having told me sooner. Christmas is just over three weeks away. You do realize that. The invitations have gone out. Everyone will be so shocked, and I mean everyone. But no one will be as shocked and angry as Scott. He’ll go ballistic.”

  “Scott would never go ballistic with his mother,” said Sophie, believing the mother-son relationship sacred.

  “There’s always a first time,” Samantha warned. “Oh, Mum! I never know what you’re going to do from one day to the other. You invited Darcey, who betrayed not only Scott but the entire family. We all loved her. She was so beautiful and so gifted. She and Scott were set for life. He adored her. People said they had never seen two people so much in love. We all got on so wonderfully well. I don’t believe this!” she wailed. “It could ruin everything, the polo match, the ball, Ashlee’s chances with Scott.”

  “Darling girl, you well know Ashlee has no chance with Scott.” Sophie tut-tutted at the very idea.

  “But we like Ashlee,” Samantha protested. “Or we like her enough. We’ve known her forever. She’s utterly trustworthy. She’s not nerve-ridden like Darcey and she’s always been in love with Scott.”

  “Scott has only ever been in love with one woman, and that’s Darcey,” said Sophie. “My son was shot through the heart by Cupid’s arrow. There never will be anyone else for Scott but Darcey. No one will come close.”

  Samantha sighed volubly. She had to agree. “Be that as it may, you never saw the end coming, did you, Mother dear?”

  “And haven’t I done penance for that!” said Sophie.

  “We all thought Darcey was as madly in love as Scott,” Samantha lamented. “How did we get it so wrong?”

  Sophie, a pretty, petite woman with golden brown hair and golden brown eyes, suddenly seized her tall daughter by the shoulders. “The aunt was the problem,” she said, trying and not succeeding in shaking her daughter. “All right, I admit I woke up too late. I should have called a family conference. It was the meddlesome Aunt Rachael who dominated Darcey’s young life.”

  “They never did find the motorist who knocked her mother off her bicycle,” Samantha sidetracked, gently removing her mother’s small hands. The family had been greatly saddened when they found out Darcey’s mother, Ysobel Gilmore, had been out on a morning bike ride close to a quiet local park when she had been struck and killed by a motorist.

  “The coward got clean away.”

  “No one gets clean away from causing another human being’s death,” said Sophie, exuding belief in Divine justice.

  “Only some people lack a conscience, Mum.”

  “True,” Sophie conceded. “Might as well say manslaughter, not accident. The tragedy had a hugely lasting effect on Darcey.”

  “God yes!” Samantha shuddered, suddenly feeling very sorry for her ex-sister-in-law. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing her own dear mother. Or imagine how she would react after such a tragic event. “Even so, we all knew Scott didn’t betray Darcey. You’re right as usual, mum. It was the domineering aunt that caused all the mayhem. She had such a hold on Darcey.”

  “You can bet your life she worked long and hard on it,” Sophie said. “Aunt Rachael is the key to the mystery we need to unlock. It’s gone on far too long. Scott is suffering, though he never shows it. That’s the man thing. The strong, silent behaviour that has been the norm for men for generations. Silence is the reason why men are so lonely. Silence is the reason why so many men and boys get sick. Women talk to their women friends, derive comfort and support. Men put on the brave manly face. But my boy can’t hide his true feelings from his mother any more than you can. You really like Linc, don’t you?”

  Samantha’s expression turned fierce. “I do not! I wish Scott had never given him the foreman’s job. Anyway, we’re not talking about me, Mum, we’re talking about you. Why you invited Darcey for Christmas.”

  “I got permission from God,” said Sophie, very simply. “I talk to Him, as you know.”

  “And God told you to do what?” Samantha asked sarcastically.

  “Write to Darcey.”

  “He didn’t suggest an email?”

  “Goodness me, no. Way too impersonal. I wanted Darcey to know how we feel. We all miss her, don’t we? Own up, Sam. You and Darcey had become very close.”

  “Like sisters,” said a bitterly disillusioned Samantha. “But much as I loved Darcey, Mum, I love my brother more. She broke his heart. She won’t have turned over a new leaf. She’s still in close contact with her horrible aunt. I’m sorry, but Darcey has long since been brainwashed. I’m amazed she was allowed to go through with the wedding.”

  “The wedding wasn’t a mistake, Sam,” Sophie said. “The divorce was the big mistake. Both of them were so wounded they took themselves out of reach. Only I can’t sit around doing nothing any longer. We can’t pretend Scott will ask Ashlee to marry him. He won’t. Even if he never saw Darcey again, it’s as I said. He will never get fully over her.”

  “Maybe there’s a limit to love,” Samantha mused. “To being in love. Things are wonderful for a couple of years, then it’s all over. A couple of years. That’s all you’re going to get.”

  Very gently Sophie took her daughter’s hand. “I never fell out of love with your father from the moment I met him to the day we lost him. He never fell out of love with me. One day soon you’ll find the right man, my darling, and fall deeply in love.”

  “I hope so, Mum,” Samantha said, without much conviction. “I don’t for a moment include you and Dad. Dad was a splendid man. We knew how happy you and he were. It’s been very hard for us: you, Scott, and me. We lost Dad. Darcey lost her mother. We can’t bring them back.”

  “No, but we will see them again. The bonds of love will carry over into the next life.”

  Samantha laughed with tears sparkling in her eyes. “Oh, Mum! Do you really believe that?”

  “I most certainly do. I don’t care what anyone says, there is a heaven where we’ll all meet up with our loved ones again. The good ones, that is.”

  Samantha bent to kiss her mother’s smooth cheek. “I long for your faith, Mum.”

  “Give it a few more years, darling,” said Sophie. “You need to see a bit more of life. Right now, we have a job to do. We have to bring Scott and Darcey back together again. We were family. We will be family again.”

  Samantha stayed silent for a moment. “I don’t have your faith, Mum, though I guess it says something Darcey is willing to come?”

  “True.” Sophie nodded.

  “When are you going to tell Scott?”

  “I’ll wait until he’s ready,” said Sophie.

  Samantha raked a hand through her russet mane, visualizing what would surely be a tempestuous event. “And when’s that? No one tells Scott what to do, even you, Mum.”

  “Being without Darcey is like torture for my son. He’s under a lot of stress he won’t let out. I’m his mother. It’s my job to take care of him in a way he needs. If Darcey and Scott haven’t communicated with each other, they need me. I know, because God told me.”

  “It’s a wonder you and God didn’t plan on allowing Darcey to show up unannounced,” Samantha retorted smartly.

  “Now, that would have bee
n a problem.”

  “Whenever you plan to tell him, I want your promise you’ll tell me first.” Samantha held her mother’s gaze.

  “You know I can’t possibly tell him without you to back me, Sam. I thought a week before?”

  Samantha’s face registered her grave concerns. “If you’re okay with that, I guess I’ll have to go along. After all, the deed is done. If either of us had any sense, we’d be running scared.”

  “I know he loves her,” said Sophie. “Nothing has really changed. We knew Ashlee and the others would rush in to take Darcey’s place. We know Ashlee and her mother have been making plans—”

  “Ashlee hates Darcey, Mum,” Samantha felt compelled to remind her mother.

  “Well, they didn’t really get on, I know.”

  “Wasn’t there a reason for that? Ashlee has always been in love with Scott, then along came Darcey and snatched him away.”

  “She did no such thing. It was love at first sight.”

  “Only it didn’t last, did it, Mum? Do you really think Ashlee will be able to control herself when Darcey shows up?”

  “I’ll be keeping a close watch,” said Sophie.

  “Only it’s not settled yet, Mum. Scott will probably forbid it.”

  “If he’s that upset, we’ll cancel it,” said Sophie, fingers and toes crossed.

  Chapter Two

  Things had moved so fast she really hadn’t had enough time to consider the huge step she had taken. Now it was too late. The three-hour domestic flight from Brisbane to Longreach in Outback Queensland was coming in to land. She was to be met at the airport by someone from the station. She didn’t for one moment think it would be Scott. No matter what soothing words Sophie had offered, she knew Scott would be furious his mother had invited her for Christmas.

  The big question, however, was not why Sophie had invited her. It was why she had accepted Sophie’s invitation. The divorce had been very public. The MacArthurs were among the nation’s pioneering families.

  Scott, when she had confronted him with his alleged betrayal, had reacted with a proud man’s fury and utter disbelief. He had called her, among other deeply upsetting names, a “gullible little fool.” According to Scott she had been hypnotized for years by her aunt. “Aren’t I supposed to come first with you, not your ego maniac aunt?” Rebecca was “a conniving bitch with the IQ of an onion” who had never impressed him as Darcey’s friend. Rather, Becky was a parasite who had fed off Darcey and her “foolishly kind heart.”

  The husband she had adored treating her like a hapless teenager had been the last straw for Darcey. Where was the respect? Scott’s tirade had left her distraught and overwhelmed. She had retaliated from the bottom of her beaten-to-a-pulp heart. Her trust in Scott, her husband, had been profound. When subjected to his real opinion of her and his violent dislike of the aunt who had always been there for her threw her into a quandary that could only be solved by separation. Divorce? She had shuddered away from that at the beginning even as she was aware she had made herself dependent not only on her aunt but the husband she had adored. She had felt undervalued and unrespected. The time had surely come for her to emerge from the chrysalis of her tragic youth.

  Marry in haste, repent at leisure.

  The fallout from their separation had been enormous. Family and friends had taken sides as in a mammoth battle. Her father, while not exactly on Scott’s side, had found Scott’s alleged betrayal extremely hard to believe.

  “I can see Rachael’s meddlesome fingers in all this, but God knows why! She used to fancy herself in competition with your mother, believe it or not. But that could hardly apply to you.”

  It was impossible to believe her aunt would lie to her. Aunt Rachael had trained herself to be utterly truthful, as Darcey was herself. Aunt Rachael held to her solemn belief she had been doing the right thing warning her niece. Her opinion held a lot of sway. Rachael Richardson was known to be an upstanding woman within the wide community and a scrupulously honest businesswoman. Her devotion to her niece was well known. Besides, there was Rebecca’s testimony, to which Rebecca held fast. Rebecca had had nothing to gain but the loss of a well-connected and generous friend.

  At that terrible time, both she and Scott had not been able to get their emotions under control. Both had erected huge impregnable walls around themselves, with one side refusing to acknowledge the other until the divorce had gone through. The MacArthurs were amongst the wealthiest families in the country. Darcey had been adamant she wanted no settlement. She had been advised by her lawyers to accept one. She had never in the intervening two years touched a cent of it.

  Ultimately she had to confront the fact she had trusted her aunt above the husband she had professed to love. Agony though it was, her decision at the time had seemed straightforward. She couldn’t live with betrayal. She wasn’t the first woman, she wouldn’t be the last. Could any man be relied upon to be utterly faithful? Aunt Rachael said not. Adultery struck at the very foundation of marriage. She had come to terms with the fact the past and her vulnerable nature had made her overly emotional. Her basic confidence had been shot to pieces by the death of her mother.

  As a young girl she had experienced intense grief and uncertainty over what life might bring. Her father had organized therapy for her. The therapy had helped. She had developed to the extent she performed exceptionally well at university and made many friends. University had proved to be a “safe” environment.

  Once she had graduated with a first class architectural degree, her father’s old firm had approached her. Flattered, she had signed on. Her work became her life. People regarded her as a clever, capable young woman.

  Everyone had their secrets.

  She had returned to her old firm six months after the divorce had been finalized. This current year she had won a prestigious award for her design for a country farmhouse. She had not exceeded her youngish clients’ relatively modest budget, but she had delivered a farmhouse everyone in the farming district they lived in admired.

  Since then she had gone freelance with surprising success. She was her own boss! Success had to be applauded. Her father and Anne had told her many times how proud they were of her. Indeed, they had wanted her to come to London, but as a Queenslander she didn’t know how she would cope long term with the English climate and the everlasting rain. As an English dignitary once said to a visiting Arab prince, “I believe you worship the sun,” to which the prince replied, “So would you if you ever saw it.”

  The domestic flight touched down right on time, releasing the passengers into Outback heat. The tarmac was red hot, the air thick as molasses. She was glad she had travelled in lightweight clothing, navy loose-legged pants with a double white stripe and a white cotton camisole edged in navy, with open-toed leather sandals on her feet. Her long blue-black hair she had pulled back from her face and secured in an updated knot. She was shaking with nerves inside though no one would have known it from her composed face and demeanour. One of the rewards of therapy.

  The way she had acted with Scott . . . Dear God! Her cringeworthy behaviour couldn’t have been farther from her norm. She had flown at him in an unprecedented rage, rejecting out of hand his instant furious redhead’s response. She could still hear that hateful voice she had somehow acquired like a tinnitus in her head. Where had the hostility come from after all they had shared together? The answer? The love of her life had betrayed her. Threatened all that she had held dear. Such a loss had been unbearable for her. Didn’t Scott understand that? Grief was all in the mind, her analyst had assured her, only she had not yet learned to control her mind. She could control her body. Her daily run, her hard work and devotion to her profession kept her sane.

  Success or not, you’re in a rut.

  Then another grace note sent out of the blue. Sophie had written to her. It was one of Sophie’s grand gestures. Once upon a time Darcey and her mother-in-law had been very close. Sophie had many of the same heart-warming qualities as the mother Da
rcey had lost. She had written her acceptance reply half sobbing all the while, signing off, With love, Darcey.

  She wanted to go back to Planet Downs. She wanted to see the family again. They had been so kind to her. They had been shattered by her and Scott’s mutual decision to divorce. Above all she wanted to see Scott again. Things had to be put right. Accounts had to be settled. Christmas surely had to be the best time for reconciliation.

  Inside the large light-filled terminal it was blessedly cool. The locals back home from trips to the “Big Smoke” were being met by family members. Tourists en route to Darwin, the gateway to Australia, wandered back and forth to a lively thrum of noise and conversation.

  She needed to wait for the passenger luggage to be unloaded. It shouldn’t take long. She had brought two large pieces with her. The evening dress for the ball had taken up one piece alone. It wouldn’t be her first ball on the station. Such wonderful times! Her memories threatened to make her cry. She had always been too emotional. After Scott, she had found she couldn’t respond to other men. While she gave out no come-on signals, there were quite a few wanting to take his place. Only no one measured up to her Scott, the husband she had once loved with all her heart.

  Even in the crowded terminal she became aware of a ripple that was stirring up the air. There was an abrupt cessation of conversation as well. What was happening? She was sufficiently curious to turn her head.

  What she saw took her breath away.

  A stunningly handsome man well over six feet wearing a dark blue Lacoste polo shirt, fitted jeans, high boots on his feet had entered the terminal. He had a shock of dark auburn hair, burnished when it caught a stray ray of sunlight; hair that would catch anyone’s attention.

  Scott!

  Her mind jammed.

  She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak.

  Past and present blurred.

  There was such a hard pressure of her every breath she might have been a woman suffering from broken ribs. Whatever she had imagined, it wasn’t this.