The Cowboy's Christmas Lullaby

by Stella Bagwell

  Before they start asking why their mom is growing a belly, Marcella thought helplessly. “I’m planning on telling them at Christmas. I keep thinking that maybe—”

  When she broke off with an anguished sigh, her mother reached over and clasped her hand. “That maybe the cowboy will have a change of heart?”

  Marcella’s response was something between a sob and a groan. “Stupid of me, isn’t it? I told him I never wanted to see him again. But my heart is still aching for him. After Gordon turned out to be a loser, I never thought I’d find myself feeling this way about any man.”

  “So you’ve forgiven Denver? You’re going to forget he accused you of being deceitful and manipulative?” she asked.

  The sarcasm in her mother’s voice couldn’t be missed. Marcella had to admit the sound mirrored the bitter feelings she’d been struggling to put behind her. “I have to forgive him, Mother. For the sake of my unborn child and my boys. And for my own sake.”

  Saundra shook her head. “You have far more mercy in you than I could ever have. So in other words, you’re telling me you’d take him back?”

  Marcella’s short laugh was full of pain. “Don’t worry, Mom. I don’t see any chance of the two of us getting back together. When I first met Denver, he made it clear he didn’t want a wife or a child. I made the mistake of believing I was the woman he might change for—that he’d feel different with me.”

  * * *

  The next day saw clear blue skies and bright sun shining down on the ranch. That afternoon, when Denver and Rafe rode their horses away from the ranch yard and headed west, only patches of snow remained on the ground. The wind had settled to a pleasant breeze and, to be only a few days before Christmas, it was beautiful weather.

  “I’ve made Griff and Ronnie mad at me,” Rafe said as the horses walked briskly abreast of each other. “They wanted to do this chore themselves. You know Griff, if he thinks there’s going to be a little excitement, he wants to be in on it.”

  Denver glanced to a rough ridge of hills to the far southwest, where the two men expected to find a sick bull. Their plan was to rope and secure him, then give him an injection of long-lasting antibiotic. But the motley-colored bull with crooked horns had a wild streak. Several times Orin had threatened to sell the animal that the ranch hands had dubbed Crowbait. But Rafe had become attached to the ornery critter and, oddly enough, so had Denver. So whenever Crowbait needed attention, Denver and Rafe took on the dangerous responsibility of caring for him.

  “I don’t think we’ll have much trouble with the ole boy today.” Denver tugged the brim of his black hat a bit lower on his forehead. “Especially if he isn’t feeling his best.”

  “Hmmp. He just has a few sniffles, and that might make him meaner. We’ll see.” Rafe glanced his way. “I got busy yesterday and forgot to thank you for coming to Dad’s little get-together.”

  Denver shrugged. “I’m glad I did. It’s good to see Orin so happy. Noreen has turned him into a different man.”

  Rafe nodded. “Damned right she has. You remember how Dad was after Mom died. He turned himself into a recluse and was behaving like an old man. Who would have thought he’d look sideways at a woman twenty years his junior? Just goes to show you how life can take unexpected turns.”

  Denver was well experienced with unexpected turns. He’d had plenty of them during his young life and now he was facing more. These past days since Marcella had told him about the baby, his whole world felt as if it was turning out of control. He wanted to stop the chaos in his head and the torment in his heart. But he didn’t know how to start. Or even if he had the courage to try.

  Rafe’s chuckle interrupted Denver’s dismal thoughts.

  “Females are so hard to figure. For some unexplainable reason, little Colleen thinks you’re Prince Charming. I’ve tried to tell her you ride a horse and get cow manure on your hands just like her daddy does. But that doesn’t seem to dim her attraction for you. If this next baby is a girl, I’m not going to let you near her until she’s a grown woman and old enough to see you’re nothing but a grizzled cowboy,” he joked.

  This next baby. Rafe’s words snagged Denver’s attention and he looked over at his friend while wondering if he’d misunderstood.

  “Uh—Rafe, you said next baby. Are you and Lilly planning on having another child?”

  Grinning broadly, Rafe shook his head. “We’re not thinking about it, Denver. We’ve already got the ball rolling. Lilly just made a trip to the doctor. She’s about six weeks pregnant. I shouldn’t be telling you—we haven’t yet spread the news to the family. But what the heck, you’re my best bud in the world. And I wanted you to know.”

  If circumstances had been different, Denver would’ve probably burst out laughing. He and his best friend having babies at the same time was too far-fetched to ever dream possible. Especially when Denver had never planned to have a child of his own. Period. And suddenly it all became too much for him to hold inside.

  “Congratulations, Rafe. I’m happy for you. Really happy. And I—”

  As he broke off, searching for the right words, Rafe drew his horse to a halt, forcing Denver to do the same.

  “What’s wrong?” Rafe asked. “You look half-sick or something. Look, man, Lilly is the one with the nausea. The word pregnant shouldn’t put a green look on your face.”

  “Let’s dismount,” Denver said. “I need to talk to you.”

  Sensing the seriousness in Denver’s voice, Rafe nodded and the two men climbed from their saddles.

  Rafe pointed to an outcropping of rocks shaded by a large Joshua tree. “Let’s go sit on those boulders over there.”

  With both horses trained to stay ground-tied, the two men simply let the reins down and left the animals where they stood.

  At the boulders, Rafe brushed off a bit of snow, then sat on the cold rock. A short space over, Denver did the same.

  “Okay,” Rafe said, leveling a look on him. “Fire away. Are you trying to ask for a raise? If you are, you don’t need to be so worried about it. I’m sure Dad will come through for you.”

  In spite of the misery inside him, Denver grunted a short laugh. “Oh Lord, Rafe, are you crazy? The salary the Silver Horn pays me is so much it’s practically indecent. Besides, don’t you remember? Last year on my birthday Orin gave me that share in one of his copper mines. The dividends on that is paying me more money than I know what to do with. No. Money is not the issue. It’s Marcella.”

  “Oh. So you’re still thinking about her.”

  “Thinking about her!” Denver threw up his gloved hands. “Rafe, you have no idea!”

  “And I won’t have an idea until you tell me,” Rafe impatiently prodded.

  Denver took a deep breath and expelled it. “Marcella is pregnant with my baby.”

  For several long seconds a stunned expression was frozen on Rafe’s face, and then he let out a loud yelp of joy. “You and Marcella. Me and Lilly. Having babies at the same time? This is great! Really great!”

  “For you, maybe. Things are a lot different for me.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Denver sputtered. “Do I need to draw a picture? Lilly is your wife. You already have two children.”

  Rafe shot him an impatient look. “That’s supposed to explain things? Marcella could be your wife. If you wanted her to be. Then you’d have a wife and two kids, too.”

  Snorting, Denver said in a tight voice, “Marcella isn’t speaking to me. She never wants to see me again. She hardly wants to become my wife.”

  Rafe’s eyes narrowed with speculation. “Do you want her to be your wife?”

  Swallowing at the hard lump in his throat, Denver looked across the valley floor to the distant mountains. “All these years since Christa died I never wanted to be married again.”

  “You’ve s
aid that much to me before,” Rafe said. “And for a long time I thought it was because you were still grieving over the woman you lost. Though these past few years I’m not so sure. Dad thought Mom was the only woman on this earth, but even he’s managed to move on. You haven’t.”

  Denver had to choke out his next words, and he hated showing this vulnerable side of himself to Rafe. But he was tired of always being the strong, sturdy one. Tired of hiding the pain he’d carried with him for so long. “It’s not just getting over losing a wife, Rafe. I...I lost a baby, too.”

  Rafe studied him for long moments and Denver expected him to come out with the standard I’m sorry, or how terrible. Instead, he surprised him by saying, “I wish you had told me this years ago.”

  “Why?” Denver asked dourly. “What good would that have done?”

  “Sharing your burdens makes the load a lot lighter to bear, Denver.”

  “It’s something that hurts to talk about—to even think about,” Denver tried to reason. “You see, Christa wasn’t supposed to get pregnant. Her condition made it far too risky. But she went behind my back and quit taking her birth control pills. She died carrying my baby.”

  “Did you tell Marcella about this?” Rafe asked.

  Denver nodded. “She assured me that nothing would happen to her. That she wouldn’t get pregnant. But she did. And I—well, when she told me she was carrying our child, I couldn’t handle it. I ended up saying some awful things to her.”

  Rafe’s jaw dropped as he stared at Denver in disbelief. “Awful things? Are you crazy, Denver? Marcella is one of the sweetest, most gentle souls on this earth. You should have been smothering her with kisses. Down on your knees thanking her for giving you a child. What were you thinking?”

  Heaving out a long breath, Denver stood and jammed his gloved hands in his coat pockets. “I wasn’t. I couldn’t think, Rafe! Suddenly I was seeing Christa in the hospital hooked up to all sorts of tubes and machines as the doctors tried to save her and the baby. I was remembering how she cheated us out of the chance to have a life together.”

  Rafe remained quiet for so long that Denver decided his friend had nothing else to say. But finally he rose to his feet and walked over to stand in front of Denver. The expression on his friend’s face was nothing close to empathetic; it was downright angry.

  “You can’t forgive your late wife for deceiving you and even dying on you, so you take all that bitterness out on Marcella.” He snorted with disgust. “I don’t blame Marcella for never wanting to see you again. You don’t deserve her or her sons.”

  “All right! Beat me up! You think that will make me feel any worse than I already do?” Denver practically shouted at him. “When Marcella told me she was pregnant, I went into a cold shock. I couldn’t even remember driving back to the ranch. And then when I finally got part of my senses back, I realized I was scared to death. I’m still scared to death!”

  He grabbed the front of Rafe’s coat and gently shook him for answers. “What if something happens to Marcella? To the baby? I couldn’t stand it again, Rafe.”

  Rafe clamped a hand on Denver’s shoulder and said in a steadying voice, “Anything can happen. At any time. That’s life, Denver. I lost my sister Darci when she was only two. I was five at the time and I considered her my little buddy. After she died, I clung to my mother for a long, long time. I was afraid to let her out of my sight. Afraid Mom would leave me, too. Eventually, she also died, and that was tragic. But I, and the rest of my family, had to move on. A person can’t live their whole life in fear. That’s not really living. Just ask Dad.”

  Denver dropped his head and stared at the cold ground. In a few months the patches of snow would be gone. Grass would sprout and sage would bloom. The arrival of his child would be growing nearer, and Denver wanted to be there to welcome it into the world and his arms. He wanted to be with Marcella. Not just as a man who’d fathered her baby, but as a husband who loved her deeply.

  He lifted his head. “I’ve been wrong, Rafe. No—change that to guilty. I shouldn’t have relied on Christa to be solely responsible for birth control. I should’ve used my own to make certain she wouldn’t get pregnant. As for Marcella, God help me, but I think deep down I ignored the responsibility because I...wanted a baby with her. But then when her pregnancy became an actuality, I panicked.”

  Rafe nodded soberly. “I can understand that. It’s a jolt for a man to hear he’s going to be a father. Even when the event is planned. It’s a big responsibility to be given a tiny human being that can’t talk or walk and you have to help it grow into a man or a woman. I get it, Denver. In your case, I really do understand your fears.”

  Denver shook his head. “I’m not a coward, Rafe. I’ve got to make this right with Marcella. I love her.”

  Rafe’s faint smile was all-knowing. “You didn’t have to tell me that. I can see it all over your face.” He gave Denver’s shoulder an encouraging slap. “Come on, let’s mount up. We still have Crowbait to deal with. And when we get back to the ranch, I want you to hightail it to town and find Marcella. Even if you have to go to the ER to do it.”

  Less than a half hour later, they found the motley bull in a muddy ravine barely wide enough to ride the horses through. As soon as the ornery animal spotted them, he took off at a defiant trot.

  Eventually, Crowbait decided the ravine wasn’t a place he wanted to be with two horses on his tail. When he climbed onto open land, Denver quickly maneuvered his horse close enough to rope the bull’s horns. Rafe followed and snagged a loop around the animal’s heels. Once they had the bull safely secured on the ground, Denver retrieved medication from a satchel tied to the back of his saddle.

  After he injected the antibiotic under the bull’s tough skin, he patted his neck. “There, ole boy. By this time tomorrow your sniffles will just about be gone.”

  “Yeah, maybe he’ll send us a thank-you card,” Rafe joked. “Right now, he’s pretty damned angry. Once we take these lariats off him, we’re going to have to run like hell.”

  “I’m ready if you are,” Denver told him. “Let’s do it!”

  Rafe uncoiled the rope from the bull’s heels while Denver gingerly eased the loop off the wide set of horns.

  Freed from the confines, the bull jumped to his feet. While he shook the mud from his hide, Denver and Rafe raced toward the horses.

  Behind them the bull began to bellow loudly, and both men glanced anxiously over their shoulders to see the bull pawing the ground, sending mud and snow flying in the air.

  “He’s going to charge, Denver!” Rafe shouted. “We can’t make it to the horses! Run for those rocks over there!”

  Struggling against the bulky weight of their chaps and boots, the two men raced toward a pile of large boulders, but they weren’t fast enough. Before they could reach safety, Crowbait took aim and rammed Denver square in the back. The impact tossed him several feet in the air, before he landed like a rag doll near a bed of prickly pear.

  The next thing Denver knew, his face was pressed into the dirt and a hot, piercing pain was spreading up and down his side. Half-conscious, he could hear Rafe behind him, yelling at the bull, then a set of hoofbeats striking the ground. If the bull charged the horses, they would definitely run and leave him and Rafe afoot. The frantic thought rushed through his dazed mind and he tried to lift himself up to look, but the pain in his side wouldn’t allow him to move.

  Suddenly Rafe was lifting his head off the ground and propping it on his thigh. “Denver! Can you hear me?”

  Denver opened his eyes and tried to draw in a breath, but very little air seemed to fill his lungs.

  “Rafe,” he said in a wheezy voice. “Is the bull gone?”

  “Yes, he’s run off. Afraid I’d shoot him, no doubt. He’d better be damned glad I didn’t have my rifle with me!”

  “No! Leave him...alone,” Denve
r said between gasps for breaths. “He was only trying to...protect himself.”

  Jerking a bandanna from the back pocket of his jeans, Rafe started wiping dirt and bits of vegetation from Denver’s face. “Oh God, are you hurt badly?”

  “I don’t know. I can hardly breathe. I think I’ve broken a rib or something. Are the horses still here?”

  “Yeah. They’re the best two buddies we ever had. Most horses would’ve headed for the heels when Crowbait went crazy.” Satisfied he’d gotten most of the dirt off Denver’s face, he quickly unbuttoned his coat. “Let me take a look. We need to know if you’re bleeding.”

  After locating his hat, Rafe stuffed it beneath Denver’s head for a pillow, then turned his attention to the wound in his side. Even the movement of easing back the shirt fabric sent shards of pain up and down Denver’s rib cage.

  “The flesh hasn’t been broken,” he reported. “I guess the padding of your coat prevented that from happening. But there’s a huge blue lump starting to form. We’ve got to get you back to the ranch and to the doctor as soon as possible. If your rib has punctured a lung, that could be mighty serious.”

  “Just get me to my horse,” Denver told him. “I can make it.”

  “Hell no! I’m going to ride back for help.”

  Denver muttered a curse. “What kind of help? No vehicle can get back here.”

  “A four-wheeler can make it.”

  “Skipper can give me a far smoother ride than a damned four-wheeler. Now quit arguing and help me up.”

  Rafe helped him to a sitting position, then went after the horses. Once Skipper was standing directly next to Denver, Rafe helped him to his feet. By the time he climbed into the saddle, he was very close to passing out from the pain.

  “Damn it, this is crazy!” Rafe protested. “You can’t make it all the way back to the ranch! We’re several miles out! You might be bleeding inside.”

  “Give me the reins,” Denver ordered through clenched teeth. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve got to get to town—to see Marcella.”