The Best Cowboy Christmas Ever

by June Faver

  He raised a big paw in farewell.

  At the door, Derrick helped Angelique don her jacket, and she wrapped a scarf around her neck. It was a soft wool and was about the same color as her eyes.

  “That’s new, isn’t it?” He touched the scarf.

  “Yes. Isn’t it pretty? Leah crocheted it for me. She said she and her grandma and Misty get together to make things with yarn…mostly some kind of charity blankets for newborns of drug-dependent mothers at the hospital in Amarillo. Doctor Ryan got them interested.”

  “Good project.” Derrick was familiar with the program where the infants, born addicted to various drugs, had to be detoxed and it was very hard on their tiny systems. Thank goodness there were kind people who volunteered to hold those infants and give them some attention. His own mother and her church friends had driven over to cuddle and rock the little ones.

  He escorted Angelique to his truck and helped her climb up onto the seat. When he was behind the steering wheel, he realized she was chilled and turned on the heater. The drive to Langston was quite companionable. He wanted her to be in a comfortable and conversational mood.

  “So, you never had snow in New Orleans?”

  “Oh, no. It finally gets cold late in the season, and the fact that we’re on the water makes it quite brisk.”

  “I’ll bet,” he said. “How about when you were a kid. Did you ever get to build a snowman?”

  Angelique laughed at that. “Don’t be silly. I couldn’t build a snowman when we had no snow.”

  “Did you and your mom have any special Christmas traditions?” He glanced at her profile. So beautiful. She looked pensive.

  “Well, my mother loved to cook, so we always made cookies together. When I was very young, we didn’t have much money, so the goodies would wind up in the Christmas stocking.” She gave him a pert little grin. “And pralines. My mom would always make pralines and give them as gifts. Everyone loved her pralines.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “And bread pudding,” she said. “My mom always made a delicious bread pudding.” She blinked rapidly. “Oh, I miss her so much.” She seemed to have shrunk in her seat, her hands clasped on her lap.

  They were approaching the city limits of Langston, a cluster of lights on the horizon delineating the boundaries. The Christmas lights gave them a cheery welcome to town. When Derrick pulled in at the steak house, Angelique’s mood seemed to have plummeted. He reached over to place his hand on top of hers. It was as though he could feel the tension in her much-smaller hands gripped so tightly together. “It’s okay, Angelique. I didn’t mean to bring you down.”

  She nodded, her lips pressed together. “It’s not you. I miss her so much. She was such a fine person.”

  “If she was anything like you, she was amazing.” He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them gently. “Let’s go inside and get some dinner. That should perk you right up.”

  “Sure. I’m hungry.” She reached for the door handle, but Derrick asked her to wait for him. He got out and opened her door, holding out his hand to help her down. “Thanks, Derrick. You always make me feel as though you really care about me. Like I’m a lady.”

  He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. “You are a lady…in every way.”

  * * *

  Angelique gazed up into Derrick’s eyes, knowing he spoke from his heart. “Thank you.”

  He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and walked with her up the steps of the steak house. He held the door open, and she was more than a little dismayed when it seemed that every one of the diners turned to stare at her. Derrick stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders as though he had just apprehended a felon.

  A holiday tune was playing on the music system. “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas” was the message, and the tempo was most definitely upbeat.

  The hostess approached with a wide smile. “Hello, Sheriff. Two for dinner?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave Angelique’s shoulders a squeeze. “Some place quiet.”

  The hostess led the way to a table in a back corner, but all along the way, people spoke to Derrick and stopped him to shake hands.

  He pulled out a chair for Angelique, and the hostess placed menus on the table.

  People were still staring. Angelique quickly picked up a menu and held it in front of her face.

  Derrick frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  Angelique felt a blush crawling up her cheeks. “Um, no. I-I wondered why everyone was staring. Is there something wrong with the way I look? Is it my outfit?” She patted the locket under her clothes.

  “Aw, honey. How could you even think that way? You’re always gorgeous.” He looked around, waving at a few people. “I suspect they’re checking you out. I’m a hometown boy, so everyone has to figure out who is this hot babe with the local guy.”

  She glanced at him, uncertain that this was the reason. Maybe they were speculating on Big Jim Garrett’s illegitimate daughter. Maybe they were wondering why she was in the company of the handsome sheriff. Whatever the reason, their unabashed curiosity was disconcerting to say the least. “I don’t understand why they have to stare. It’s so rude.”

  He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. A sweet kiss was enough to bring on another blush, but when she looked up, people were smiling. It was clear the hometown boy was making a public declaration of love.

  Angelique’s chest felt tight with emotion. She had found a wonderful man to fall in love with. Well, a second wonderful man.

  He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Tell me, Angelique… Do you ever miss New Orleans?”

  “Sometimes. Since my mom passed, I don’t have anything or anyone in New Orleans. There’s nothing left for me.”

  He gave her an encouraging grin. “Well, if we were to go there together, what would you show me?”

  Angelique’s face must have shown her dismay. She couldn’t imagine ever returning to the city where she had been raised. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve seen pictures of New Orleans, but mostly they’re about Mardi Gras. What else is there?”

  She swallowed hard. “It’s a beautiful city with a long history. When I was a child, it seemed I was around people…my mother’s friends, who were always laughing and giving me food. So I guess I miss the food.”

  The waitress came with ice water and to take their order, but they hadn’t even opened the menus.

  Angelique opened the plastic-wrapped menu, scanning the offerings, but Derrick knew what he wanted and the waitress noted his selections. They both turned to her. “I’ll have the small filet with a side of green beans and a small salad.”

  When they were once again alone at the table, Angelique was relieved that the others in the restaurant seemed to have gotten over their interest in her. She released her pent-up breath, feeling the tight band around her chest loosen a bit.

  “You were telling me about your mother’s friends. Were they wealthy?”

  She was puzzled by this question. “Wealthy? Well, maybe some of them were. I really don’t know. They were people who were brought together by their love of music and good food…and they loved my mother, Sofie.” Angelique was flooded with images of her mother interacting with her friends, laughing and singing and, most of all, loving her daughter every moment of the day and night. “She was amazing.” Angelique touched her locket again. Just wearing it made her feel less alone.

  “What’s that around your neck?” Derrick asked. “I notice you touch it sometimes.”

  “Oh.” Angelique drew the locket up through the neckline of her shirt. “It was something my mother gave to me. I hardly ever take it off.” He leaned closer to examine it so she slipped it off over her head.

  “This is beautiful,” he said. “Really fine craftsmanship. Are those diamonds?”

  Angelique s
hrugged. “Probably. My mom loved pretty jewelry.”

  He turned it over and studied the inscription on the back. “What does this mean?”

  “It’s French. Mon seul et unique amour… It means ‘My one and only love.’ That’s what my mom used to call me.” There was a catch in her throat. “I miss her terribly. I always thought she would be around to help me raise Gabrielle. I need her wisdom now.”

  Derrick handed her the locket. “Better keep that tucked away. It’s too valuable to wear every day.”

  Angelique shook her head. “I will never take it off. See what she left me…” She clicked the tiny catch open and displayed two small black-and-white photographs. One was of a beautiful dark-haired woman who looked a great deal like Angelique, holding a little girl with equally dark hair and dimples. The resemblance was striking. On the other side was the image of a slightly younger Angelique, grinning in the arms of a young man.

  Derrick’s voice was raspy as he asked, “Who’s the guy?”

  “That was Remy. He was Gabrielle’s father. We were so happy then.” She could tell her words had affected Derrick. “We grew up together. From playmates as preschoolers to falling in love. Remy is dead.”

  “Oh… Sorry.” Derrick frowned. “He looks quite healthy. Was there an accident?”

  Angelique’s jaw tightened. “It was ruled an accident, but his father killed him.”

  Derrick sat up straighter. “What? Killed him! You mean he accidentally killed him?”

  She blew out a breath. “I really don’t want to talk about it. It’s still quite painful to me. I hope you can understand.”

  Derrick nodded and took a sip of his ice water before he spoke. “Yes, I understand…but, sometime, when you feel up to it, I wish you would tell me more.” He cleared his throat, but his gaze was steady and reassuring. “I love you, and I’m sure this Remy guy loved you. So I’m having a little anxiety now.”

  “What part of ‘He’s dead’ did you not understand?” Angelique felt a flash of anger, but shook it off when the waitress brought their tea. She realized Derrick was honestly expressing his feelings. She had not known men who could talk about their feelings. “I’m sorry,” she whispered when the waitress had gone. “I love you too.”

  He reached for her hand and placed a kiss on it, but continued to hold on to it, gazing at her silently until their food arrived.

  “Hope you folks enjoy your dinner.” The waitress had a high voice with a strong nasal quality.

  “Thanks,” Angelique said. “Everything looks great.”

  The waitress smiled and left them alone in the room full of other diners.

  * * *

  Derrick cut a slice of steak off and put it into his mouth. True, he was hungry, but he was also in need of something to do that didn’t require talking. He had set out to learn more about Angelique’s past, but he had found out more than he’d intended.

  He tried to reconcile his feelings. Of course he’d known he wasn’t her first love, but it had hit him like a semi truck to actually come face-to-face with a photograph of the woman he loved looking so happy in the arms of another man. The father of her child.

  He watched as Angelique delicately cut into her meat and took a small bite. She smiled and made an appreciative noise.

  Derrick took a moment to go over their conversation. She talked about her mother and her childhood, which had apparently been spent in the company of her mother, her mother’s friends, and the New Orleans world of music and food.

  When he had checked out the locket she always wore, he had seen the circlet of small diamonds arranged around the edge. The artistry and craftsmanship told him it was a one-of-a-kind piece. Her mother had liked jewelry. Maybe that characteristic had carried over to the daughter. She also wore diamond studs, but they were mostly covered by her long, thick hair.

  Most of all, he didn’t want the information on the alert to be true. He couldn’t arrest the woman he loved and charge her with theft of jewelry.

  He would have to investigate further…find out who the jewelry in New Orleans had been stolen from. Surely it would turn out to be a mistake. He would stake his badge on it.

  Chapter 16

  Big Jim had rocked Gabrielle to sleep. He couldn’t resist holding her for a while, rocking gently. It reminded him of the way he had rocked his sons when they were young. Of course, he had merely been the dad…and his kids had been blessed to have been born to his lovely Elizabeth, so his role was more of a helper with the kids.

  Elizabeth had made all the decisions about their day-to-day care, the food they ate, the time they were laid down for naps and bedtime, the clothes they wore.

  Big Jim’s role was to be the cowboy. He was the one who arose before daylight, grabbed some coffee, and headed out to take care of the stock. When he returned to the house, he would find his wife and sons doing well. The kids were clean, had been fed, and were excited to see their daddy. Then when his beloved Elizabeth had been so cruelly taken from him, he’d had to step up his game and manage to perform all of his usual tasks as well as figure out how to stand in for the best mother on the planet.

  Thankfully, he had established the habit of gathering his sons in the big rocking chair for stories and the comfort of the soothing motion. Yes, there was something almost magical about a rocking chair.

  Big Jim forced himself to abandon the sanctuary of the chair. He stood with Gabrielle in his arms and walked slowly to the room she shared with her mother. He stepped into the darkened room and eased the sleeping child onto her bed. The nightlight cast a dim glow in the room, allowing him to see and admire his granddaughter.

  Her dark hair was tousled and curled around her face, a counterpoint for her very fair skin. Her dark lashes lay as a thick fringe on her cheeks.

  As quietly as possible, he backed out of the room, leaving the door open. He presumed Angelique would be home when she was ready to return, so he was trying to come to terms with this. He accepted that he felt differently about having his daughter stay out all night than he had as a father of sons.

  Double standard? You betcha. He smiled in the darkness. He could guarantee that he would be there to defend both his daughter and his granddaughter if need be. He was their fierce protector, above all.

  * * *

  Derrick had seemed to be somewhat distracted during their dinner, but when they left the restaurant, he pulled her into a passionate embrace on the parking lot. Although the temperature was falling, his kisses lit a fire to keep her warm.

  “Wow! What brought that on?” she asked.

  He tried to laugh it off, but it was clear he was feeling something deeper. “Can’t a man just plant a kiss on the woman he loves?”

  She tried to match his mood. “Sure, Derrick. Plant one on me anytime.”

  He helped her into the truck and ran around to climb in on the driver side. “Brrr. It’s going to be a cold one tonight.” He stuck the key in the ignition and started the motor, revving it a few times. “Let’s let it warm up a little.” He reached over to stroke her cheek. “How about it? Do you want to go see a movie at the cinema?”

  Angelique’s breath came out in a white cloud in front of her. She shook her head. “I better get back to Gabrielle. I left her with my dad, and she’s probably asleep by now.”

  “Want to stop by my house on the way to your home?”

  She knew what he was asking. “Yes, that would be nice.”

  He reached for her hand and placed it on his very muscular thigh. He caressed her hand and then turned on the heater. The windows immediately fogged up, but he switched to defrost and returned his hand to hers as they watched the windshield clear.

  Derrick drove to his ranch, jubilant that she had wanted to be with him. That she loved him and maybe she entertained the idea that they could have a future together…but first he had to clear her name.

  W
hen they arrived at his house, he left the motor running to keep Angelique warm while he ran up on the porch to unlock the house. There was no wind, but he felt as though he had just stepped inside a freezer. He crunched through the snow to turn off the ignition and then scooped Angelique off the passenger seat and carried her into the house. It was his plan to warm her inside and out, but he thought it might be easier to start with a warm girlfriend.

  She was grinning when he nudged the front door open and carried her inside. He made sure to give her a kiss before he set her on her feet.

  Just as he was securing the front door, the landline rang. It was an old-fashioned phone, a soft creamy yellow, mounted on the wall of the kitchen and with a snarled-up curly cord. Derrick blew out a deep breath. “Will you join me in the kitchen?” He held out his hand and walked quickly to the back of the house.

  He gestured for Angelique to have a seat on one of the stools situated at the breakfast bar, then picked up the receiver. “Hello, Mom.”

  Angelique tilted her head to one side, her brows raised in question, but she began to shed her outer layers—the scarf, the gloves, the coat.

  “Hello, Derrick.” His mother’s voice sounded way too cheerful. “How did you know it was me?”

  He winked at Angelique. “Well, Mom, it was a fifty-fifty guess. It had to be either you or Dad because you’re the only ones who still call me on the landline.”

  His mother made a scoffing noise. “Don’t be silly, Derrick. We don’t want to bother you at work. You might be arresting someone, and if your phone rings, you might let them get away.”

  “I see. What can I do for you tonight, Mom?” Derrick reached to take Angelique’s hand.

  “Well, of course your father and I want to know if you’re coming home for Christmas.”

  There was a long silence.

  Derrick cleared his throat. “Mom, this is my home. You and Dad are the ones who moved to San Antonio. You abandoned me here. Remember?”