Best of Cowboys Bundle

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Barbara White Daille, Judy Christenberry, Christine Wenger, Shirley Rogers, Crystal Green, Nina Bruhns, Candance Schuler, Carole Mortimer

  “He told me about her. Finally. Today.”

  “I can’t honestly speak about his mother, because she’s been gone so long I barely remember her. But his fiancée—”

  She paused, and Marissa didn’t want to push her. This unplanned pity party was bad enough, without having it degenerate into a gossip fest. Dillon already had a big enough grapevine, as Gabe had told her.

  Yet it certainly hadn’t spread the news to her about a fiancée. He had stunned her completely when he’d told her. Her heart still ached from the news. Not with jealousy, as she might have expected, but envy.

  Had he willingly courted that other woman, without her having to demand it? Had he loved her, before she left him and went away? Had he trusted her, as he never had Marissa?

  The last thought stole her breath, hitting her with a bitter truth she hadn’t understood until that moment.

  “I thought he didn’t trust me now, because I had left him once before. But he never trusted me at all, Sarah. Not even when we first came to the ranch after we were married. From the very beginning, he never thought I would stay. He never even gave me a chance.”

  “That’s likely true. After his mama left, and then years later, that other one…Well, let’s just say he didn’t use the brains he’d been born with when he hooked up with her. She was nice enough, but not meant for him. And not meant to be a ranch wife, either.”

  “Neither am I.”

  Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “I’m thinking that’s not the real Marissa talking.”

  In spite of her predicament, she found one corner of her mouth curling in a smile.

  No, that wasn’t the real Marissa Miller talking. Not anymore. Not now that she knew exactly what she wanted. And, as she had told Gabe such a short while ago, what she deserved.

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “But you have to admit, I did hurt him when I left him so soon after we were married.”

  “Sure, you did. There’s no getting around that. But he’d have been hurt no matter when you’d gone. And from what you’ve just been telling me, he’s got to shoulder some of the blame.”

  “I suppose so. The fact is, I did it, and now I have to face the consequences.” She set her teacup down on the edge of Sarah’s big oak desk. She had made another decision. “May I use your telephone?”

  Sarah looked apprehensive. “Don’t you think you both might need some more time…?”

  Marissa shook her head. “Don’t worry. It’s not Gabe I’m calling. It’s another man I need to stand up to.” She surprised herself by laughing aloud at Sarah’s expression.

  If she could laugh, she could survive. She could do whatever she needed to do.

  Gently, she swatted her friend’s arm. “I’m talking about my father.”

  “Oh.” Sarah nodded. “In that case, I’d best go back to dusting my bookshelves.”

  Left alone in the privacy of the small office, Marissa dialed the long-distance number of her father’s New York headquarters. He would be back from Europe by now. His cool voice would come through the telephone receiver—after she had gone through a series of secretaries and assistants, of course.

  His cold tone would never bother her again. No matter how much he thought she was like her mother, she was also her father’s daughter. She could be as cold and precise as he could. And she was strong enough now to stand up to him.

  After all, she had been strong enough today to do the right thing.

  To leave another man who didn’t love her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gabe stood in the dimly lit hallway after a hard day driving himself on the ranch. Trying to outrun Marissa. Trying to forget he ever had a wife.

  It didn’t work.

  Thoughts of her had kept him company through the long hours of the night. Had ridden along with him out on the ranch every minute of the day. Were with him now, in this house she’d left the day before, taking a part of him with her. Yet when she’d told him she was going, he couldn’t bring himself to beg her to stay.

  He brushed his fingers against the pine bough she’d twisted around the stair rail. Saw the wreath hanging on the wall. Couldn’t stop himself from looking into the living room.

  He saw the small pair of cowboy boots he’d brought down from the box in his old room, dusted off and set on the coffee table.

  But he also saw Marissa there. Curled up on the couch the night he’d come in to seal their bargain. Carrying a tray of hot chocolate and cookies. Sitting beside him, her eyes glowing from the lights on the Christmas tree.

  That blasted tree.

  He’d sat in front of it last night like some seven-year-old waiting for Santa. But the tree stayed dark, and whatever he might’ve hoped for never happened.

  He backed away from the door.

  Down the hall, he stopped in the guest room doorway. It had never crossed his mind to check that room yesterday. He’d had no idea the Josephsons had left.

  And now all he could see was Marissa standing there, her hands filled with silky bits of sexiness, her cheeks flushed pink, her gaze skittering away.

  He skittered, too, backpedaling from the room. And from memories not worth a damn.

  So she hadn’t taken off, after all, when he’d searched the house for her. Not then, at any rate. Not till later.

  Didn’t matter. The thought that she’d left him had been enough. Had reinforced his beliefs. Had convinced him he’d been right to hold back.

  Because she’d wound up leaving, anyhow.

  He could remember every word she’d spoken those last two times they’d been together, first in the ranch-house kitchen, then later in this very hall. He’d frozen into place looking at her, not believing she would really go.

  He scoffed. Never trust a woman. He’d learned that the hard way.

  Still, he’d made his offer. And she’d refused.

  He thought again of how she’d walked out on him. No way in hell would he have begged her to stay. No way would he have told her he loved her.

  And he did love her, more than he’d ever believed possible.

  Only, he’d wanted her to be different from the people who’d left him before. He’d wanted her to stay on the ranch forever. To love him even longer than that.

  Slowly, he moved down the hall again, letting his feet lead the way without his mind thinking about it, like when he’d had to let Sunrise bring him home.

  Upstairs, he passed the open door of his bedroom without stopping, not wanting to see Marissa in there.

  Instead, he came to a halt, finally, in his son’s bedroom.

  Everything looked neat and shiny new, from the paint on the walls to the ribbons tying the bumpers against the rails.

  He touched the crib, imagined his son sleeping there.

  Then he waited, watched, held his breath and said a silent prayer that came from deep inside him.

  Again, whatever he hoped and prayed for never happened.

  Like Santa, Marissa didn’t show.

  ICY RAIN SLASHED the bookstore window.

  Marissa set aside the inventory list Sarah had given her to check. She’d needed something to occupy her mind and hands.

  Nothing could fill her heart.

  She looked out through the streaked pane, feeling as miserable as the stormy weather.

  Just two days had passed since she had driven away from the ranch. Away from Gabe. Already it felt like a lifetime.

  She’d done the right thing, for her and the baby. She knew it.

  So why did it feel so wrong?

  The phone call to Father yesterday, to tell him about her pregnancy, had only made things worse.

  “And this child? Boy? Or girl?”

  “It’s a boy, Father.”

  “And you’re now planning to stay in Texas?”

  “I don’t know yet. We’re trying to work things out.”

  “Work things out,” he repeated, spacing the words. “This cowboy.” He said it as he would have said “cockroach.” “Is he prepared to
take care of the child?”

  “I have to go now, Father.” Tears came to her eyes and in spite of her determination to keep her voice as cold and clipped as he did, her words were shaky. “I’ll keep in touch. Goodbye.”

  As he had started to speak, she hung up.

  She cringed now, thinking of her failure to stand up to him as she should have.

  As she would have, if her own words hadn’t tripped her up.

  But he’d demanded answers she didn’t have.

  Worse, the lack of emotion in his tone had almost brought her to tears again, as she realized how much alike he and Gabe were, how similar the situations had become.

  All her life, she had wanted love and emotional support, something neither of them could offer her.

  The fancy schooling Father had provided, the little bit of courting Gabe had done, the financial security she’d gotten from them both—that wasn’t important.

  Only the emotional connection counted.

  Especially with Gabe. All along, she had hated herself for not being able to separate her physical attraction to him from the emotional bonding she craved. And, all along, she should have worked at blending them together. It was the combination that would bring two people together in a happy marriage.

  She knew that now. But how, with her upbringing, could she have known it before?

  It was too late for any kind of relationship with Father.

  And too late to mend her marriage to Gabe.

  The bell over The Book Cellar’s front door jingled, signaling a customer. Marissa picked up Sarah’s list again, grateful for anything that would take her from her thoughts.

  “Marissa?” Sarah stood in the doorway. “You’ve got a visitor.”

  Marissa’s heart leaped.

  Gabe.

  She could barely believe it. After everything he wouldn’t do, everything he refused to say, he had come to her.

  But Sarah shook her head. “It’s not him.”

  “Oh.” She linked her fingers across her stomach, trying to hold back the hurt. Then she gave Sarah a smile. Small and crooked, maybe, but a genuine smile. “Only forty-eight hours in your company, and already you can read my mind. Why can’t men catch on as quickly? Or, at least, one particular man?”

  “If we knew that,” Sarah said, “we could save the world.”

  Bitterness and mirth mixed in Marissa’s laugh. “That’s probably true. Is it Doc again?” Doc had visited her the evening before, as full of kindness and concern as always. But he’d have office hours now. “Or Mrs. Gannett?”

  “He says he’s your father.”

  She gasped. “Father? That’s impossible.”

  “Tall and thin. White hair. And—nothing personal—but a voice that could chill a side of beef.”

  Stunned, Marissa nodded. “That sounds right.”

  “You want me to send him back here?”

  “Yes, please.”

  A moment later, he walked into the room.

  She swallowed hard. “What brings you to Dillon, Father?”

  “Our conversation yesterday was not productive.”

  “In what way?”

  “Have you found out yet whether that…cowboy is prepared to take care of the child?”

  “That cowboy is my husband, and his name is Gabe Miller.”

  Her words triggered a memory, this time of another phone conversation. Of Gabe taking the receiver from her and announcing that he was her husband—and that he was hanging up on Father.

  “Gabe and I haven’t come to any agreement yet.”

  “That’s not acceptable.”

  “Excuse me?” she asked, astonished by his statement.

  And all too aware of his icy tone. It matched her own when she felt most frustrated with Gabe. She winced. She was more her father’s daughter than she had realized.

  “Obviously, the man isn’t willing to take care of the child. I am.”

  “You?”

  “He will be my heir.”

  “That’s not enough.”

  “Of course not. I haven’t outlined my plans. You will come back with me to New York. You will have use of the Fifth Avenue penthouse and live-in child care. Should you wish to return to work, you will have your choice of the Manhattan hotels.”

  She shook her head.

  “Be reasonable, Marissa. It’s a win-win situation.”

  She wanted to cry at the coldness of his offer.

  As cold as the one Gabe had made to her, to live with him but keep their lives apart.

  “No, Father, it’s not a good situation for any of us. And my baby isn’t a business deal.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “What will you give him?”

  “What I gave you from the time you came to live under my roof. That roof over your head, an opportunity for the best schooling, gainful employment. Everything that matters.”

  Marissa studied her hands.

  How did she have such luck, that the two men closest to her cared nothing about what really mattered?

  She was looking for love, something neither of them was capable of giving. And, in that way, Father had been right. She was acting like her mother, after all, though not in the way he had meant.

  They were both looking for love. But while her mother went from man to man, Marissa wanted a lifetime love. And now, she knew she deserved it. Unlike her mother, she would have the real thing someday.

  That’s why, though she loved Gabe, she couldn’t stay with him.

  Because he couldn’t love her.

  That’s why she couldn’t accept what Father had offered.

  She looked up at him again. “What you want to give the baby, that list of material things. That’s not enough.”

  “I see you’ve learned some negotiating skills. What else do you want?”

  “For me? Nothing. For my baby?” She raised her chin and looked him in the eye. “Love. Understanding. Compassion. A grandfather who will feed him. Bathe him. Read to him before bedtime.”

  The expression on his face nearly made her laugh.

  “Is that what you consider most important?” His scathing tone chilled her. “Use your head, Marissa. What about that child’s welfare? How will you support it, with no home to speak of, no ready employment, and therefore no income?”

  Several weeks ago, on her way out West, things had all seemed so much less complicated than they did right now. Several weeks ago, she hadn’t been so far along in her pregnancy. Or so close to facing her future.

  She folded her hands over her stomach, bowed her head and gave a deep, shuddering sigh. Now, she couldn’t think about what she had done wrong in her past, what she’d missed growing up, what she wanted and needed and wished for herself.

  Now, she could think only of one thing.

  What was best for her baby.

  COLD RAIN SOAKED Gabe’s jacket, dripped off the brim of his Stetson. Fast-dropping temperatures turned his fingers numb, even inside his lined leather gloves.

  Texas weather could change in a hurry, and the minor winter storm prediction had escalated into cause for major alarm. Swollen clouds scudded overhead, shoved by the fierce wind. A bolt of lightning split the dark sky.

  He set to work with pliers and wire, mending the broken fence post in front of him. He didn’t mind doing this job himself. Tedious work in a freezing rainstorm had suited his temperament for the past couple days. He’d been unfit to live with since his last conversations with Marissa.

  Finished with his task, he shook the fence post to test its strength, then gave it a swift kick out of his own frustration.

  Back in his pickup, he gunned the engine. Its powerful roar made a puny echo of the emotion raging inside him.

  Not far along, he came to a stand of pines giving shelter to a few head of cattle. A half-grown calf, born just this past spring, stood close to its mother. Couldn’t miss the pair, with its matched set of spotted forelegs.

  A blast of icy rain hit the pickup. For a minute, Gabe couldn’t see a foot in
front of his face. Then the windshield cleared again.

  Mama stood cuddling closer to her calf.

  He thought of Marissa and how she would care for their baby. How she would shelter and cuddle their child.

  He looked again at mama and calf, saw nature taking care of its own. Nature always knew best about things. Even when to let go. Sometimes, mamas rejected their babies, as his own mama had rejected him.

  Just as he’d rejected Marissa and their son.

  The thought sucked the wind from his lungs and stilled the beat of his heart. He was gut-punched by how badly he’d screwed up.

  And how close he was coming to losing her.

  All because he’d fought to be tough enough to live with her and not lose his heart. All because he’d been afraid she would reject him.

  And what had she done, really, except try to love him, without knowing why he couldn’t trust her, why he couldn’t love her in return?

  For the first time, he saw clearly what he could have, if only he’d take the chance. His wife. His son. His family.

  Something he’d never wanted before, because he couldn’t chance wishing for something that would never be his.

  He gripped the steering wheel, fighting to steady his hands and struggling to hold back a groan.

  Now, the joy of keeping Marissa and his child mattered a far sight more than his fear of rejection. Now, instead of being too afraid to trust, he was more afraid of losing everything. And so, he’d have to risk it all.

  He’d have to risk his heart.

  He threw the pickup into gear and floored it.

  He had to get to Marissa.

  It didn’t matter now who knew his marriage was a sham, so long as he had the chance to make it real. To fix it. To save it.

  Less than a mile later, he caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. A horse—and its rider waving to get his attention.

  None of his boys would drive a horse that hard, not in this weather. Not unless they’d had an emergency. He looked at the phone cradle on the dashboard. Damn, he’d forgotten the cell.

  The lone horse and rider approached. It was Warren, on Ranger. Gabe braked to a halt and jumped out of the pickup into the cold rain.

  “What the hell? You oughtn’t be out here in this weather—”