He’s fighting for them
When Amy Donavan married the town playboy and left Forever, Texas, Connor McCullough wished her well—no matter how much it hurt. He got past it, but never really over it. Now the one that got away is back and needs his help...in more ways than one!
Recently divorced and fleeing her abusive ex-husband, Amy needs a safe place to hide and someone she can trust. And she’s not alone. Her fussy six-month-old son needs sanctuary, too...and Connor is determined to protect them both. It’s not his family, but it’s the family—and the woman—he’s always wanted. So when Amy’s jealous ex tracks her down, hell-bent on reclaiming his “property,” Connor’s ready to fight this time...
“All right,” he said to Amy as he headed toward the door, “then I guess I’ll say good-night and turn in.”
Connor was almost at the threshold when he heard her call after him.
“Connor?”
He turned around quickly, thinking that she had remembered something she needed. “Yes?”
Gratitude was shining in her eyes as she said, “Thank you.”
The two words caused sunshine to filter all through him. He hadn’t felt like that since they were kids in high school.
“My pleasure,” he told her.
The next moment he pulled the door closed behind him and then he was gone.
“Well, we did it, Jamie,” she whispered softly to the child, who was asleep in the nearby cradle. “We escaped. Now all we have to do is figure out what to do with the rest of our lives.”
Dear Reader,
After writing over two hundred and eighty stories, I’d like to get a little personal.
On Easter morning, Audrey, the very best dog in the whole world, passed away. We got her from the German Shepherd Rescue Society when she was eighteen months old, and we had her for ten years and three months. Despite being badly abused, Audrey had a wonderful disposition.
The second day we had her, I got a call from my son. He needed a tray of lasagna for a Christmas party at his fraternity. Since I never just made one tray, I made one for him and one for our dinner. Leaving the tray on the stove to cool, I drove to USC and then hurried home to feed Audrey. I raced into the family room and put her dog food into her dish. Only then did I see that she’d pulled the lasagna tray off the stove and devoured it while spreading the contents all over the kitchen and family room. She also “recycled” the lasagna by pooping all over. I looked at her in horror and thought, “What have I done?” because I was the one who’d pushed to get another dog. But we soon had her trained, and to her credit, she never took any other food that wasn’t given to her. She was obedient and loving to the end.
Audrey is going to be a hard act to follow.
Thank you for letting me share this very personal story, and from the bottom of my heart, I wish you someone to love who loves you back.
Marie Ferrarella
A BABY FOR CHRISTMAS
Marie Ferrarella
USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award–winning author Marie Ferrarella has written more than two hundred and seventy-five books for Harlequin, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, marieferrarella.com.
Books by Marie Ferrarella
Harlequin Western Romance
Forever, Texas
The Sheriff’s Christmas Surprise
Ramona and the Renegade
The Doctor’s Forever Family
Lassoing the Deputy
A Baby on the Ranch
A Forever Christmas
His Forever Valentine
A Small Town Thanksgiving
The Cowboy’s Christmas Surprise
Her Forever Cowboy
Cowboy for Hire
The Cowboy and the Lady
Her Mistletoe Cowboy
The Cowboy and the Baby
The Rancher and the Baby
Twins on the Doorstep
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!
Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010002
To
Audrey,
The Best Pet
In The Whole World.
Ten Years Wasn’t Nearly Long Enough.
We All Miss You
More Than Words Can Say.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Excerpt from Texas Rebels: Elias by Linda Warren
Chapter One
It was so quiet, he could literally hear himself breathe.
Maybe he needed to get a dog.
Connor McCullough frowned and shook his head.
That was the thinking of a desperate man, the twenty-eight-year-old rancher told himself. He shouldn’t be desperate. After all, he had earned all this peace and quiet. Lord knew he’d worked hard enough for it over the years.
The only trouble with peace and quiet was that it was, well, too quiet. And peaceful could also be another word for boring.
For the last twenty-eight years, the ranch house he was sitting in had seen more than its share of bustling activity—as well as its share of sorrow. His mother had died here giving birth to Cassidy twenty-three years ago and this was where his father had passed away, as well. The latter had happened a week before he was about to go off to college. The first one in his family to actually go to college.
That dream wound up being temporarily shelved, or so he told himself, because if he had gone off to college, Cody, Cole and Cassidy would have been farmed out to foster homes, most likely separate ones.
So he’d stayed on and the four of them had worked as hard as they could to eke out a living and keep the ranch, his father’s legacy, going.
It definitely hadn’t been easy.
At times it was damn near impossible, but somehow, they’d always wound up managing, thanks to hard work and the kindness of their fellow neighbors in Forever—especially Miss Joan, the redheaded, wisecracking, dour-faced guardian angel who ran the diner that had been, and still was, the small town’s only restaurant.
Looking back, he kind of missed those years. Missed working so hard that he fell into bed, bone tired and asleep before his head had a chance to hit his pillow.
Missed hearing his siblings arguing about whose turn it was to do what chore.
At times, he recalled, it had gotten so noisy, he couldn’t hear himself think.
Well, he certainly could hear himself think now. But all he could really think of was that he missed the arguing. Missed all the sounds of a family living together.
One by one, Cody, then Cassidy and finally Cole had found the one they were supposed to be with and they had all gotten married in what seemed to him to be, now that he looked back, an amazingly short amount of time. All three
were now married with kids. And, of course, they were all here every Sunday. Sunday dinners were pure bedlam and he loved it. But in contrast it made the rest of the week feel almost as quiet as a tomb.
At least, that was the way the evenings felt.
Most of the time Rita, his housekeeper, was around. The woman wasn’t exactly a chatterbox, but she did talk on occasion and the sound of her voice took away the oppressive feeling of loneliness.
But Rita had gone to visit her sister in Austin for a few days. He didn’t miss her cooking—although the woman did have a spectacular knack for making everything she put her hand to taste good. What he missed, now that the others were gone, was her company.
Granted that Cole was here during the week, helping him around the ranch, but when six o’clock came, Cole was gone.
Which was as it should be. He wanted his siblings to have families of their own. Wanted them to be happy.
For the last few days, with Rita gone, if he wanted company when the sun went down, he turned on the television set. But somehow, that felt way too artificial to him.
He needed to communicate with something living and breathing. Which was why he’d started entertaining the idea of getting a dog.
Finishing up dinner—Rita had prepared several casseroles for him before she’d left—he began forming a plan. He’d go into town tomorrow and get a cup of coffee—maybe even lunch—at Miss Joan’s and ask her if anyone’s dog had had pups recently. If anyone would know, it would be Miss Joan. The woman was the unofficial source of information for the whole town. He could swear that she had a way of knowing about things before they even happened.
He liked that idea, Connor thought as he took his lone plate from the kitchen table to the sink.
Turning on the hot water and dabbing some liquid hand soap onto the dish, he smiled to himself.
A dog.
Okay, so most of the time he had more than enough to do around the ranch, even with Cole’s added help. But once the sun went down, he could stand to have a pair of soulful brown eyes looking up at him for—
Connor turned off the running water and listened, his dirty-blond hair falling into his eyes. He pushed it back.
Was that knocking he heard?
He gave it to the count of five.
Nothing.
Shrugging, he went back to rinsing off the solitary dish, as well as the knife and fork he’d used. It was the middle of the week, no reason to believe that—
He stopped and turned off the water again, cocking his head toward the front door, the direction of what he perceived was the source of the sound.
This time, rather than just standing and listening to see if he could hear it again, he wiped his hands on the back of his jeans and went to the living room.
No point in wondering whether or not there was anyone knocking on his door when he could just as easily open it and check if there was anyone there.
“You’re a little more than one year away from turning thirty. That’s too young to be hearing things and imagining people on your doorstep,” Connor upbraided himself.
He was definitely going to talk to Miss Joan about getting a dog.
Although he didn’t hear any further knocking, Connor still twisted the doorknob and pulled open the door just to make sure there was no one there so he could put his mind at rest.
He wound up doing the exact opposite.
Chapter Two
There weren’t very many things that could catch Connor McCullough off his guard these days. One of the reasons for that was a great deal had happened in the last year and a half.
Cody had shown up with a newborn whom he’d helped a stranded mother-to-be give birth to in her dilapidated, stalled secondhand car. Not all that long after that, Cassidy had turned up, dripping wet and clutching a baby she’d helped rescue from the river during an unexpected flash flood.
And then Cole had topped both of them when he’d brought home twins who had been left in a basket on the doorstep. He had almost tripped over them when he’d walked out of the bunkhouse one morning.
All in all, Connor would have been the first to say that he didn’t think there was anything that would surprise him anymore.
With that in his mind, he was in no way prepared for what he saw when he swung open his front door to look outside.
A wan, breathless Amy Donavan was standing on his doorstep, holding what looked to be a six-month-old baby in her arms.
For a moment, he thought that he’d somehow managed to fall asleep in the kitchen and was dreaming this, or hallucinating it, or whatever it was called when a man’s mind conjured up an image of the only woman he had ever loved standing on his doorstep, looking utterly helpless and needy.
“Amy?” he asked uncertainly, half expecting the sound of his own voice to wake him up.
Except that it didn’t.
And then his hallucination spoke.
“I’m sorry, Connor. I just didn’t know where else to turn.” Her eyes, those beautiful, mesmerizing blue orbs that he always used to get lost in, were now the eyes of a woman who looked as if she was on a first-name basis with fear. “I’d understand if you don’t want to let me in,” the petite strawberry blonde added hesitantly, already taking a step back from the doorway.
“Maybe you might, but I wouldn’t.” Connor took hold of her elbow and drew her into his house.
Once she was in, Connor closed the door behind her and then did something that he normally didn’t do because he lived in Forever, where everyone trusted everyone else. He locked his front door.
Connor turned to look at the young woman, still stunned that she was actually here.
It had been a little over five years since he had seen her. A little over five years since Amy had left town. At the time, she’d been swept right off her feet and hopelessly in love with Clay Patton. Handsome to a fault, self-assured to the point, many felt, of being cocky, Clay was the town’s “bad boy.” He had a tongue that was dipped in honey and could sweet-talk the feathers off a pair of lovebirds.
When it became clear that Amy was falling for Clay, Connor began to worry about her. Worry about her getting hurt. But Amy seemed to be so genuinely in love and so determined to make things work between Clay and herself, he just couldn’t find it in his heart to stand in her way.
So he didn’t.
He also didn’t tell her how he felt about her.
Instead, he played his part as a steadfast friend, wished her well and told her that if she ever needed him, for any reason at all, all she had to do was pick up a phone and call him. No matter where he was, he’d find her and be there for her.
All this time and she hadn’t called. Instead, she’d come in person.
The Amy Donavan who had left town floating on a cloud and full of dreams was a far cry from the wan, frightened-looking young woman he saw standing in his living room tonight.
Ushering her and her baby over to the sofa, Connor coaxed, “Why don’t you sit down, Amy?”
Very gently, he had her take a seat on the sofa. It was almost like handling someone who was sleepwalking. “Can I get you anything?” he asked. “Some tea? Something to eat? Maybe some milk for the baby?”
The word baby seemed to snap her out of the temporary daze that had slipped over her the moment she sat down on the sofa.
“My baby,” she said as if she suddenly realized that she was holding the child in her arms. She pressed the tiny bundle to her chest.
Lord, but Amy appeared incredibly weary, he thought. He was afraid that any moment, Amy’s arms might give way and she’d wind up dropping the baby. “If you’d like to put her—”
“Him,” Amy was quick to correct. “My baby’s a ‘him.’”
“Him,” Connor amended without missing a beat. “If you’d like to put him
down, I’ve got a cradle in the back bedroom down here. You could put the baby in there and give your arms a rest,” he told her tactfully.
Connor’s eyes washed over her. In his estimation, Amy seemed beyond exhausted. Not only that, but she looked like she’d lost at least ten, maybe even fifteen, pounds since he’d last seen her. Life with Clay Patton had not been good to her.
She gazed up at him, instantly alert because of the suggestion he’d just made.
“A cradle,” she repeated, coming to the only conclusion she could. “You have a baby.”
Why else would anyone have a cradle? She was stupid to have thought that life had been put on hold for everyone else after she’d left Forever, she admonished herself.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude,” Amy apologized. Holding the baby against her, she was already struggling to her feet. “I just—”
The baby began to whimper.
“No, I don’t have a baby,” Connor assured her as he lightly took hold of her arm and then gently urged her to sit back down on the sofa.
All the fight had been taken out of her long before she’d walked into Connor’s living room. Consequently, when Connor tugged on her arm, she practically collapsed onto the sofa. But she continued tightly holding on to her child.
“I have a cradle,” Connor told her again, then set her mind at ease. “But I don’t have a baby.”
The reason for the cradle was a story for another time. Right now, the immediate problem was getting Amy to tell him what she was doing here after such a long absence. And why she looked so beaten down and frightened.
“I’ll bring the cradle out,” he offered. “You can set the baby down in it and have that cup of tea I promised you. It’ll do you good. And once you’ve finished your tea, you can tell me what this is all about.”
“Connor, you don’t have to...” Amy began, not wanting to make him feel obligated to go out of his way for her.
Rather than stay and argue with her, Connor disappeared into the side bedroom and fetched the cradle he’d mentioned to her. Carrying it out, he placed it on the floor right next to where Amy was sitting.
A Baby for Christmas Page 1