The Gift of Family: Merry Christmas, CowboySmoky Mountain Christmas (Cowboys of Eden Valley)

by Ford, Linda

  Rachel couldn’t help but smile, thankful for such good friends. “They are a force of nature, to be sure.” At her touch on his knee, he lowered his hands to his lap and gazed at her. “I’m glad you came.”

  One dark brow quirked up. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “It’s true. I’ve been thinking...maybe the best way to stop the gossip is to let them see us together like we are now, talking and acting normally. They’ll soon realize there’s nothing to talk about. Their curiosity will be assuaged.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.” Still, his shoulders were set in an uncomfortable line.

  “Cole, you never gave anyone the chance to get to know you. All they remember is the surly loner with a permanent scowl on his face. Once they’ve had a chance to talk with you, to see you interact with Abby, they’ll realize you’re a normal man. Not a threat.”

  “I’m not sure they’ll ever look at me and not see my father.”

  The defeat in his flat tone saddened her. “So you’re not even going to try? Look, maybe if you get more involved in the community, those men will abandon their plan to run you out of town.”

  He covered her hand with his own, the heavy weight and warmth of it soothing. Cole’s touch felt right and good.

  “Hey—” he dipped his head to catch her gaze

  “—let me worry about that, all right? A week has passed and nothing more has happened. Maybe they decided to back off.”

  Rachel couldn’t help but think they wouldn’t give up so easily. And she was fairly certain he didn’t think so, either.

  “Cole—”

  A commotion to their left brought both their heads up.

  “What’s the meaning of this?”

  Her father’s booming voice halted all conversation, and for the second time that night, everyone froze, their attention swinging back and forth between her and Cole and her parents.

  So much for acting normal.

  * * *

  Beside him, Rachel went rigid. The tension radiating from her body ensnared him, spiking his pulse, his own muscles bracing for the coming confrontation. He removed his hand from hers and, setting the garland aside, stood to his feet, foolishly wishing he could spare her this humiliation.

  Lawrence advanced, eyes blazing and nostrils flared, meaty hands fisted. Lydia and Stephen hung back. Out of the corner of his eye, Cole noticed Sam O’Malley move in close, ready to defend. Somewhere Josh and his brother Nathan were no doubt making their way toward them. At least he had help.

  His father-in-law loomed at the end of the pew a few feet away, his disgusted gaze passing over Rachel to latch on to Cole. “You have some nerve, Prescott, insinuating yourself into this gathering as if you’ve done nothing wrong. What makes you think anything’s changed? No one wants you around. You’re not welcome here.” He glanced around, addressing the crowd. “Why are you all standing idly by while this filthy animal works his wiles on my daughter?”

  Rachel gasped. Her head jerked up. “Father, please—” her face twisted in embarrassment “—don’t do this.”

  Uneasy murmurs skirted the room.

  “Have you forgotten who he is and what he’s done? The man is a coward, Rachel. Like his pa, he took what he wanted and walked away without a thought! It was easy for him to walk away from you!”

  Rachel’s wide eyes shot to Cole, tears shimmering in the blue depths. Her face crumpled.

  White-hot fury burned in his belly.

  “This is not the place to discuss my sins,” he growled, barely reining in his temper. “Think of your daughter and granddaughter.”

  “He’s right, Lawrence,” Sam O’Malley inserted, “family business should be discussed in private.”

  “He’s not part of my family,” he shouted, his face flushing. Something wild entered his eyes. “Get out!” He lunged forward. “Leave before I drag you out by your—”

  “That’s enough.” Sheriff Timmons’s voice cracked like a whip. He clamped his hand on the older man’s shoulder and hauled him backward. “If you don’t calm down, you’ll be the one leaving this party.”

  “Come on, Pa,” Stephen urged. “Let’s go outside for a bit. Get some fresh air.”

  “I’m not sticking around to watch this.” He shook a finger at Rachel. “This ain’t over, missy.”

  As the sheriff escorted him outside, conversations sprung up once again. Cole dropped to his seat beside Rachel, longing to comfort her but guessing she wouldn’t welcome his touch right about now. He was the reason for her unhappiness.

  “I’m sorry.” Useless words, but he felt the need to say them.

  Her head was bent so that he could see only the curve of her cheek. In her lap, her fingers were clenched tight, knuckles white. “I’m going outside for a few minutes,” she uttered softly, “please don’t follow me.”

  “Rachel, please—”

  “Can you ask Megan to bring Abby out in a bit? I don’t feel like decorating anymore tonight.”

  “Sure.”

  “Thank you.”

  Torn, Cole watched her leave. He felt like punching something. Outrage thrummed through his veins. How could a father do that to his child? Was the man blind? Had he not seen how much his outburst had hurt her?

  Sam, whose presence he’d quite forgotten, squeezed his shoulder. “Give it some time, son. Lawrence will cool off eventually.” His kind face was wreathed in sympathy.

  “I’m not convinced.”

  “He needs time to adjust. Once he realizes you’re not going anywhere, he’ll have no choice but to accept your presence in Rachel and Abby’s lives.”

  “You sound pretty sure of yourself. How do you know I won’t skip town again?”

  Behind the glasses, Sam’s blue eyes were wise. “I can see it in your eyes. The way you look at those two, it’s plain to see nothing in this world could tear you away.” When Cole just stared at him, he laughed and patted his back. “If you need anything, anything at all, let me know.”

  Cole finally found his voice. “I appreciate that, sir.”

  Watching him walk away, he prayed he’d be half as good a father as Sam. The thought brought him up short. For the first time, a crack splintered his rock-solid determination to be a father to Abby. What if things didn’t improve? What if the townspeople never accepted him? What kind of life could Abigail have? He’d die before he subjected her to the same kind of behavior he’d endured. The sneers and stares. The blatant snubs. Always on the outside looking in, wishing for acceptance while pretending he didn’t care. He wanted far better for his sweet little girl.

  Troubled, he went to fetch her from Megan. He’d take her to Rachel himself.

  When he emerged from the church, she and her mother were having a heated exchange at the bottom of the stairs.

  “You’re tearing this family apart!” The strident accusation carried on the wind.

  Hearing his footsteps, Lydia glanced up, her mouth thinning in displeasure. Sniffing as if his presence tainted the air, she spun and hurried into the darkness toward their wagon.

  Cole descended the steps until he reached her, the two of them not speaking as Lawrence led his team down the lane. When they’d gone, he turned to her.

  “Let me take you and Abigail home in the wagon.”

  “All right.”

  He’d been prepared to argue the point, so he hesitated at her quick acceptance. He recovered quickly, though, balancing the baby on one shoulder and taking Rachel’s arm with his free hand. Once they were settled, blankets tucked around their laps, he tied Cocoa to the back and then climbed up to take the reins.

  They were about a mile outside of town when he finally broke the silence. “I’m sorry you had to endure that back there. Had I known your father would react that way, I wouldn’t have come.”

 
; “Please don’t apologize.” Though moonlight bathed her face in a pale glow, her eyes were dark, shadowed. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have put a stop to this from the beginning. If I had, perhaps things wouldn’t have deteriorated to this point.”

  Cole gaped. She was apologizing to him? “Your parents made up their minds about me long before our marriage. I doubt anything you could’ve said or done would’ve made much of a difference.”

  “You’re my husband. They should respect that.”

  A husband she didn’t want, he reminded himself, one she’d been forced to accept.

  “I should’ve stood up for you, and I regret now that I didn’t.”

  “You’re their only daughter. Naturally they want what’s best for you. Let’s face it,” he huffed grimly, “I’ve caused nothing but heartache for you since the night of that ill-fated party.”

  Averting her eyes, she tightened her hold on Abigail. “If it weren’t for you,” she whispered, “I wouldn’t have Abby. And I wouldn’t trade her for the world.”

  Cole’s throat grew thick, his own feelings mirroring hers. Abigail was worth it all.

  He desperately wanted to make her grand promises. That he’d be everything she needed him to be, that they’d be happy and their future would be bright. But he couldn’t. Too many unknowns stared him in the face.

  At the cabin, she didn’t invite him inside, murmuring a quick goodbye before slipping inside and shutting the door in his face. He stood there, shivering not from the crisp night air but from longing and need. This was his home. His and Rachel’s. The one he’d built with his own two hands.

  He should be in there with his wife, not alone out here, and certainly not in that flimsy excuse of a cabin his ma had let fall to ruin. Defeated, the loneliness weighing heavy in his chest, he climbed back up on the seat and signaled for his team to head out.

  Chapter Eight

  Sunday morning, Rachel and Abby arrived at the church later than usual, both exhausted and a tad cranky. Abby had slept fitfully, eager to nurse yet fussing when she attempted to do so. Rachel put it down to an upset tummy.

  “May Abby and I sit with you?”

  She paused at the end of the pew, her focus pinned on Cole, alone on the back row.

  Surprised pleasure flashed across his freshly shaven face as he rose effortlessly to his feet and moving aside, gestured for her sit. When she was settled, her dove-gray skirts smoothed and the baby situated on her lap, Rachel dared to turn and look at him.

  He was in black again, except this morning his vest was paisley silk in rich burgundy, an elegant addition that lent him a civilized air. Her gaze surveying his close-cropped brown hair, she decided she preferred this clean-cut version of him, as opposed to the longer locks and scruffy beard he used to wear. His chiseled bone structure and strong jawline were on display, his masculine beauty no longer hidden. She inhaled his spicy aftershave. Her fingers itched to caress his smooth skin....

  His hazel eyes darkened and lowered to her lips, then slowly, reluctantly, lifted back to hers. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she wrenched her gaze to the empty podium. Services wouldn’t start for another ten minutes, and here she was mooning at her husband. The attraction was still there between them, an invisible, magnetic pull. Risky. Tempting.

  This weakness was exactly why she’d rudely left him standing on the front porch last night, all but slamming the door in his face.

  Hurting and vulnerable, she’d battled the desire to invite him inside the entire ride home. She’d been so lonely, needing comfort, but at what price? Already, her heart was softening toward him, her mind conveniently forgetting the anguish he’d inflicted. But he seems sincere in his apologies, the hopeful part of her pointed out. Determined to be a part of your lives.

  No, the more realistic side insisted, a part of Abby’s life. Not yours. He never said he wanted you back. He came here to divorce you, remember? The only reason he’s staying is for his daughter.

  Right.

  “Rachel?” He leaned in close, his breath brushing her ear and charging off a riot of goose bumps along her shoulders. “Are you sure you want to sit with me? Don’t get me wrong, I want you beside me. It’s just that, well, I don’t want another repeat of last night, and I’m sure you don’t, either.”

  “I’m sure,” she said softly. “They will have to learn to accept my decision.” She hoped the consequences wouldn’t be too severe or long lasting.

  With a swift intake of breath, he angled his face so that their gazes met, his burning bright and intense. “What decision? Are you saying you’re ready to give me another chance?”

  She froze. He looked eager and...happy. “N-no. I haven’t...that is, I was referring to my decision to present a united front to the community. And to cease tolerating my parents’ hostile behavior. You’re right, it isn’t healthy for Abby to be around that.”

  The flame of hope sputtered out, leaving his green-gold eyes flat and cold. “I see.”

  She hated hurting him, but how could she trust him? Or herself? “Cole—”

  Abby wriggled in her lap and began to fuss.

  “It’s okay, Rachel. I simply misunderstood.” Avoiding her gaze, he lifted the baby into his arms and held her against his chest, patting her back and gently bouncing her. The movement silenced her. Her fist made its way to her mouth, and she contented herself with gnawing on it.

  Cole frowned. “She doesn’t seem like herself today.”

  “She didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “Which means you didn’t, either.”

  There was movement directly behind them. And then her father and mother passed them without a word, making their way up the aisle to their regular seat near the front. Stephen followed, aiming a wave and a smile their direction before going to join Lawrence and Lydia. The hushed conversations stalled as everyone waited to see if there would be another incident. But the reverend approached the podium then and, signaling his wife to start the music, led the crowd in a hymn.

  Her emotions were a mess, a curious mix of sorrow and anger and longing concerning Cole and dread in regard to her parents. She found it nigh to impossible to heed the sermon, but she did catch the words about not judging others and not having a critical attitude. A coincidence? She didn’t think so. She only hoped his message would have a positive effect.

  By the time he concluded the services, her stomach was queasy and palms clammy. Her heart beat an uneven rhythm against her ribs. Would her father cause another scene?

  Cole, perhaps thinking the same thing, quickly ushered her outside into the weak sunshine and escorted her to Cocoa’s side. When she looked back at the church and saw her father strong-arming his way through the crowd streaming down the steps, she gasped in dismay. She would not escape his wrath as she’d thought.

  “Do you want me to stay?” Cole asked in a strained voice.

  Of course she did. But neither did she want the two men to come to blows. “No. I think it would be best if you didn’t.”

  He gestured to a sleeping Abby. “She’s pretty comfortable. I’ll wait by the wagon until he’s finished.” Before turning away, he cast her a warning glance. “If things get out of hand, I will step in.”

  Rachel watched him go, praying it wouldn’t come to that. Please, Lord.

  Her father drew closer, his expression thunderous, more angry than she’d ever seen him. Her mother’s drawn face appeared more worried than angry.

  “I can see you’ve decided to disregard my warnings.”

  “Cole is my husband and Abby’s father. He deserves some sort of respect, which you’ve never given him. Why can’t you just try to get to know him?”

  “Treat him with respect?” he spat. “That vermin? You’re not thinking clearly, daughter!”

  Rachel choked back her indignat
ion. Arguing wouldn’t solve a thing. “I’m doing what I think is best. I’m not a little girl anymore. Both of you will have to accept that our marriage is our business.”

  His manner immediately turned frosty. “If you insist on accepting him back into your life, then don’t bother coming around anymore. You are no longer welcome in my home.”

  Her stomach dropped. Lydia gasped and jerked his arm. “Lawrence, don’t! Think of what you’re doing!”

  “Surely you don’t mean—” she began, but he was already turning away, stalking in the direction of his wagon.

  “Ma, please.” Her parents had been there for her in her darkest hours, and while they didn’t always see eye to eye, she loved them. That her father found it so easy to banish her from their lives stung. She swiped at the moisture on her cheeks. “Can’t you talk to him?”

  Her mother seemed to age before her eyes, sorrow deepening the lines and creases. “You know your father. Once he sets his mind to something, he won’t sway. The only thing that will change his mind is if you turn Cole away.” She seized her arm, pleading. “Make him leave town, Rachel. Then life can go back to the way it was.”

  What if she didn’t want it to go back?

  “I can’t.”

  “You mean, you won’t.” Disbelief thinned her lips. “When he hurts you again, you know where to find us.”

  Rachel watched her mother leave, wanting to call her back yet knowing it would gain nothing. She’d made her decision. She didn’t sense Cole’s presence beside her until his fingers lightly grazed her arm.

  “Are you okay?” The compassion lacing his quiet question brought all her emotions rushing to the forefront. Blinking fast, she nodded.

  “That was a dumb question.” He shook his head in disgust. “Of course you’re not okay. Let me take you home.”

  Allowing him to guide her, she trained her gaze on the brown grass beneath her boots. People were watching the drama unfold, she knew. Wouldn’t they think it hilarious if she lost it right here and now? When he abruptly stopped, she opened her mouth to question him but was cut off.