Wyoming Winter--A Small-Town Christmas Romance

by Diana Palmer

  Colie had never wanted anything, though, he recalled. She wouldn’t even let him buy her a meal. He winced at the memory. He’d accused her of being mercenary, the last thing she was.

  The waitress brought his order to the counter. While he was paying for it, Lucy’s phone rang.

  “It’s Colie’s husband!” Lucy exclaimed. “Yes,” she spoke into the phone. “Yes, Reverend Thompson’s on his way...What? It’s a girl! Colie has a little girl!”

  There was pandemonium at Lucy’s table. J.C. lost his concentration and had to dig in his pocket for another five to add to the bill. He accepted his change, gathered his order and walked out the door in a fog.

  A little girl. Maybe she’d look like Colie, with the same wavy dark hair and green eyes. A little girl who’d grow up to be like her mother, sweet and gentle and kind. He bit down on the pain. Very likely it was his child. His daughter. He paused by his SUV and closed his eyes on a wave of pain that hit him in the gut like a body blow.

  He could have been at the hospital with Colie, welcoming the child, comforting her, reassuring her. But she was married. He was alone and apart, as he’d always been. Nobody would know that the little girl she’d just delivered wasn’t the child of her husband.

  But he would know. He would blame himself as long as he lived for denying her, for not believing Colie. For ruining her life, and his. And the pain would never stop.

  CHAPTER TEN

  COLIE WAS BARELY aware when they put the baby in her arms. It had been a long and painful labor. She hadn’t dilated enough at the end of several hours of agony, so the obstetrician made the decision to do a c-section.

  “It’s a little girl, sweetheart,” Darby whispered in her ear. “She’s so beautiful!”

  “A girl.” She managed a smile. She felt the pain all the way through her heart. Things should have been so different. She should be married to J.C. He should be here, looking at his daughter, holding her for the first time, loving her. Loving Colie.

  Instead, this kind man who’d given her his name was being a father for the first time. He was having all the experiences that belonged to an unforgiving man who’d thrown away a woman who loved him, and his child, all at once.

  Tears ran down her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to cry. “Hurts,” she managed, letting poor Darby think it was physical pain, not emotional pain, that prompted the hot tears.

  “I’ll tell them,” he whispered. “Everything’s all right now. Everything’s fine.”

  It wasn’t. It never would be.

  * * *

  SHE SLEPT. WHEN SHE opened her eyes, foggy from the pain meds, her father was bending over her. There were tears in his eyes.

  “She’s beautiful,” he whispered. “Colie, she looks just like you did when you were born,” he said, choking up.

  She managed a smile. “We were going to do Lamaze,” she whispered. “Natural childbirth. Darby and I went to classes.”

  “You can never tell what’s going to happen,” her father replied. “Just trust that God knows what He’s doing, even when we don’t,” he chuckled. “Your minister’s here, too.”

  “Reverend Blair?”

  He nodded. “He’s coming in to see you, but we all agreed that I should go first,” he added with a wisp of humor. “We’ve all been worried.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she promised. “So sleepy. I want to see her.”

  “Soon,” he promised.

  Her eyes closed again.

  * * *

  “SHE REALLY IS BEAUTIFUL.” Colie choked up when they placed the tiny child in her arms. “She’s perfect!” She was touching little fingers and toes, a sweet little nose, the shock of reddish-blond hair on the child’s head. “Daddy, I think she’s going to be a redhead,” she laughed.

  He looked troubled. She knew why. There were no redheads in the whole family, anywhere.

  “Maybe far back in our line,” she said.

  “Recessive genes,” Reverend Blair, the local Jacobsville Methodist pastor, commented easily, smiling. “That’s where red hair and light eyes come from. Brown hair and eyes are dominant.”

  “Smart man,” Reverend Thompson commented with a grin.

  Jake Blair shrugged. “I did a course in biology when I was in the military, years before I went to seminary. I remember genetics.”

  “Recessive genes.” Colie’s father relaxed a little. They were both remembering that J.C. had once told him that his mother had red hair and gray eyes. Neither she nor her father was comfortable thinking that the child might be her image.

  “I live in Jacobsville, now, Daddy,” Colie reminded her father when they were alone just briefly. “Even if J.C. saw her, he’d never think she was his. Rod told him that another man was her father. He met him at the airport with the news.” She was still bitter about her brother’s betrayal.

  Reverend Thompson’s face was sad. “I still don’t understand why he’d do such a thing.”

  “I’m sure he had his reasons,” she replied. She couldn’t tell her father what Rod was really doing with his life. She didn’t want to put him in danger. Supposedly, Rod was even more involved with the drug trade than he’d been before she left town. Her departure had reassured her brother that she wouldn’t sell him out. She hoped it did. She couldn’t bear the thought of her child being in danger.

  The reverend looked at the child in her arms. She’d named the baby Beth Louise, for her mother. She’d be called Ludie, the same nickname her late mother had. Colie was feeding Ludie with a bottle, because she was recovering very slowly from the C-section and she couldn’t nurse her.

  “I never told you, but J.C. called.”

  Her heart jumped. She hated the pleasure the knowledge gave her, but she clamped down on it, hard. “Did he?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Yes. About three weeks after you left town.” He sighed and slid his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t speak to him. I just put the receiver down.” He grimaced. “Perhaps I should haven’t have done that, Colie. I understand he went to see Lucy, too, trying to find you.”

  Had he believed her, at last? Had he regretted what he’d said to her? Had he wanted to patch things up?

  She felt hard as rock inside. “I told Lucy not to tell him where I was going,” she said quietly. “I made her promise.” Lucy had never mentioned that J.C. had spoken to her; probably to spare Colie any more hurt. She looked up. “I’ve hurt you enough already.”

  He looked guilty. “I never tried to see things from your point of view. I don’t really move with the times. I live in a world where people were moral, where being honorable and upright actually meant something. I can’t change...”

  “I would never ask you to,” she cut him off. “J.C. refused to believe that I hadn’t lied to him. What sort of relationship would that have been, Daddy? If you love someone, if you truly love someone, you believe what they tell you. J.C. never trusted me. He doesn’t trust anyone, and he doesn’t forgive.” She looked back down at the baby. “I don’t think he wanted to make up with me,” she said sadly. “Maybe he just wanted to make sure that I was okay.” Her chest rose and fell and she grimaced, because any movement hurt. “I don’t believe he thought Ludie was his, or that he’d want her. He isn’t the fatherly type, and he said often enough that he never wanted kids.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Darby did,” she added, and she smiled. “He was with me every minute of childbirth classes, obstetrician appointments, everything.” She laughed. “Even when he was so sick from chemo, he never missed a class. He’s as excited about Ludie as I am. It’s been wonderful, having someone care so much.” She looked up. “He loved his wife. He still mourns her. But the baby has given him so much happiness. I’m lucky that I have him in my life, for whatever time he has left.”

  “He’s
a fine man. I pray for him every night. And for you and Ludie,” he added with a smile.

  “Isn’t she a little doll?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I remember when you were just born,” he recalled. “Your mother and I were so excited. We loved Rod, but we wanted a little girl, too. I wanted a baby who looked like Louise.” He took a long breath. “You do, my dear. You’re so much like her.”

  She looked up. “I miss her, too, Daddy.”

  “It’s just a little separation,” he said philosophically. “If we believe in an afterlife, we have to believe that we’ll see our loved ones again. It’s what makes religion so comforting.”

  “I guess it is.” She smoothed back the baby’s curly hair. She wondered if J.C.’s mother’s hair had been curly like Ludie’s, but she bit down hard on the thought. “I have to get some photos to send Lucy...”

  “I can do that right now.” The reverend pulled out his iPhone and started snapping, grinning the whole time.

  * * *

  LUCY WAS SHOWING the photographs to her friends at the restaurant. J.C. had just finished his steak and salad and was on his way out when he heard the woman talking about Colie’s baby.

  He paused by her chair, hesitant, when he was never hesitant.

  “May I?” he asked solemnly.

  Lucy, surprised, held up the phone with the photo of Colie holding little Ludie. He clenched his jaw. The child was the image of his mother, even at that tender age. He’d never felt such emotional pain in his whole life, not even during his childhood. He knew—knew—that the baby was his now. Rod had lied. Why had Rod lied?

  “She’s very pretty,” he said half under his breath. “What did Colie name her?”

  “Beth Louise,” Lucy replied. “But she and Darby are going to call her Ludie. It was her mother’s nickname.”

  He just nodded. He took one long last look at the photo and handed the phone back with a smile that was just a jerk of his chiseled lips. He turned and walked out of the restaurant. People would gossip about that. He shouldn’t care. Colie had married someone else...

  The child was beautiful. Red-gold curls and light eyes. There was something of Colie in the shape of her little mouth. She had long fingers. His mother had them, too; she’d played classical piano.

  * * *

  HE GOT INTO the SUV, hurting. If he’d needed confirmation that the child was his, he had it now. But it was months too late. Months too late.

  * * *

  COLIE WENT HOME from the hospital the following week. The baby was such a joy that she largely ignored the pain of the stitches and the incision, but Darby insisted on a nurse staying with them.

  It was for his benefit, too, he argued, because he was back in chemo again, and losing ground. He had to go for platelet transfusions every other day, to keep the cancer at bay. His condition worsened. He was thin and pale and although he tried to hide it, he wasn’t really well enough to go to the office.

  One morning, he went missing. The hospital phoned to ask where he was. He’d missed his appointment for the transfusion. Colie didn’t know. She worried until he came home.

  He was quiet and somber. He went into the room with her, taking time to look at the sleeping baby in the bed next to hers before he paused by her bedside.

  “I’ve made a decision,” he said softly. “You won’t like it.”

  She looked up at him, waiting, sad.

  “I’m going to stop taking the transfusions.” He held up a hand. “Colie, there’s quality of life and quantity of life. They are not compatible. I’m sick all the time, I hurt all the time. I can’t work anymore. You and the baby make what life I have bearable, but the cancer is growing. You must be able to see that I can’t go on for much longer. It’s just prolonging the inevitable. It’s just making the process harder.”

  She drew in a painful breath. She’d grown fond of her husband. “I won’t pretend that I agree with you,” she said. “They’re coming up with new methods and drugs all the time...”

  “None of it will be in time for me. I spoke to the oncologist yesterday. I didn’t tell you.” He sat down on the side of the bed. “Maybe three months, tops, Colie. That’s what he said.”

  She’d gone from day to day, not thinking about how inevitable things really were. Her eyes teared. “Three months?”

  He nodded. He brushed back her disheveled hair. “I’ve enjoyed this time with you,” he added. “With the baby coming.” He smiled sadly. “Mary and I wanted children so much! Waiting for Ludie even made the pain bearable. But it’s getting worse. Eventually, they’ll have to drug me so much that I won’t even know what’s going on around me, to control the pain.”

  She winced.

  “I’ve been privileged to have you in my life, Colie,” he said. “But everything ends.”

  She slid her hand over his. “Thank you,” she said sincerely, “for making my life bearable. For giving my baby a name.”

  He smiled. “It has been a daily joy. But it’s time to let go.”

  She didn’t fight the tears. “I’ll be with you every minute. Right up until the end.”

  “I know that.”

  * * *

  WHEN LUDIE WAS two months old, hospice had to come in to help with Darby’s care. He was growing steadily weaker. At least, Colie thought, there was plenty of money to take care of whatever needs he had. After the hospital bill was paid, and all the doctors, there would be a huge hole in his savings. She didn’t care. She’d always worked for her living. It wouldn’t matter if there wasn’t a dime left, so long as he had everything they could give him to make it easier.

  A sudden phone call upset her even more. Her father had been rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. He was in very bad shape.

  Ty and Annie Mosby had gone to a dog show, or she’d have asked them for help. So Colie phoned her friend Sari Grayling Fiore, who was a sister to Ren Colter’s wife, Merrie in Catelow, and begged a seat on the Grayling jet to get to her father with the baby.

  “I can get a commercial flight, but Darby can’t come with me, he’s so sick...!”

  “Don’t you even think about it,” Sari interrupted. “I’ll have the plane and the pilot waiting for you at the airport. How bad is it?”

  “I don’t know,” Colie said miserably. “They said his appendix had perforated. I don’t know what that means, but it sounds horrible...!”

  Sari knew. She didn’t say. “You just get there as fast as you can. I’ll call ahead and have a car waiting at the airport in Catelow to take you straight to the hospital.”

  “You’re so kind.” Colie broke down.

  “You’re so kind,” came the soft reply. “We all love you, Colie. I’m sorry about Darby. We heard that he’s losing ground.”

  “Very fast,” came the tearful reply. “Oh, I hate to leave him, even for a day, but I have to see about Daddy. Nobody can find Rod,” she added coldly.

  “Your brother?”

  “My brother.”

  “Maybe he’ll show up,” Sari said slowly.

  “I’ll be there, anyway. Thanks so much. I owe you!”

  “No, you don’t. Get a cab to the airport. Morales runs one twenty-four hours a day.”

  “I know. I’ll phone him right now. And thanks!”

  “No problem.”

  * * *

  SHE CALLED JACK MORALES, a former San Antonio policeman who’d decided that running a twenty-four-hour cab service in Jacobsville was less stressful than his former profession.

  “I hate to wake you up at 2:00 a.m.,” Colie began.

  “That’s what I’m here for,” he chuckled. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “Thanks.”

  * * *

  SHE KISSED DARBY and explained where she was going. He was foggy f
rom drugs, but he squeezed her hand. “Be careful. Tell your dad I said hello and I wish him the best.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”

  “I know. My sweet girl.”

  She fought tears as she gathered up Ludie and her diaper bag, and her small carry-on bag, spoke to the nurse and went out the door.

  * * *

  THE CATELOW HOSPITAL was quiet so early in the day. Colie sat in the waiting room with Ludie while the surgeon operated on her father.

  She’d been there only a short time when he came out, smiling.

  “We got it in time,” he said, smiling at the baby. “He’ll be fine.”

  “Oh, thank God,” she bit off, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I was so scared!”

  “He wasn’t, which caused the problem,” the surgeon chuckled. “He had terrible pain in his stomach, but it suddenly stopped. He tried to send the ambulance he’d called away, but when he told them how much better he felt, they loaded him up and rushed him here. As it was, they were barely in time.” He leaned forward. “I scooped what was left of his appendix out with a spoon, figuratively speaking!”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “The lack of pain meant it had perforated.” He shook his head. “I had a patient die once, because he thought he was better and didn’t call an ambulance in time. Painful lesson about the appendix and its malfunction.”

  “I guess so. Daddy’s going to be okay?”

  He smiled. “Yes, he is. When he’s out of recovery, I’ll let you see him.” He glanced at the baby. “Boy or girl?”

  “A little girl,” she said. “She’s two months old today.”

  “Pretty hair.”

  “I think so, too.” She hesitated. “Will they let me in with the baby?”

  “We’ll have one of the hospital volunteers sit and hold her for you,” he promised. “No worries.”