A Cold Creek Reunion

Home > Other > A Cold Creek Reunion > Page 17
A Cold Creek Reunion Page 17

by RaeAnne Thayne


  He didn’t seem to know how to respond for a moment and then he angled his mouth and she kissed him fully, with all the joy and love in her heart.

  Much to her shock, he eased away again, his expression raw and almost despairing. “I can’t do this back-and-forth thing, Laura. You have to decide. I love you. I never stopped, all this time. I think some part of me has just been biding my time, waiting for you to come home.”

  He pulled his hands away. “I know I hurt you ten years ago. I can’t change that. If I could figure out how, I would in a heartbeat.”

  At that, she had to shake her head. “I wouldn’t change anything,” she said. “If things had been different, I wouldn’t have Alex and Maya.”

  He released a breath. “I can tell you, I realized right after you left what a fool I had been, too stubborn and proud to admit I was hurting and not dealing with it well. And then I compounded my stupidity by not coming after you like I wanted to.”

  “I waited for you. I didn’t date anyone for two years, even though I heard all the stories about…well, the Bandito and everything. If you had called or emailed or anything, I would have come home in an instant.”

  “I’m a different man than I was then. I want to think I’ve become a better man, but I’ve still probably picked up a few more nicks and bruises than I had then.”

  “Haven’t we all?” she murmured.

  “I need to tell you, I want everything, Laura. I want a home, family. I want those things with you, the same things I wanted a decade ago.”

  Joy burst through her. When he reached for her hand, she curled her fingers inside his, wondering how it was possible to go from the depths of hell to this brilliant happiness in the course of one day.

  “I hope you know I love your children, too. Alex is such a great kid. I can think of a hundred things I would love to show him. How to ride a two-wheeler, how to throw a spitball, how to saddle his own horse. I think I could be a good father to him.”

  He brought their intertwined fingers to his heart. “And Maya. She’s a priceless gift, Laura. I don’t know exactly what she’s going to need out of life, but I can promise you, right now, that I would spend the rest of my life doing whatever it takes to give it to her. I swear to you, I would watch over her, keep her safe, give her every chance she has to stretch her wings as far as she can. I want to give her a place she can grow. A place where she knows, every single minute, that she’s loved.”

  If she hadn’t already been crazy in love with this man, his words alone and his love for her fragile, vulnerable daughter would have done the trick. She gazed up at him and felt tears of joy trickle out.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he murmured, his own eyes wet. The significance of that did not escape her. The old Taft never would have allowed that sign of emotion.

  “I love you, Taft. I love you so very much.”

  Words seemed wholly inadequate, like offering a caramel-apple pie in exchange for saving two precious lives, so she did the only thing she could. She kissed him again, holding him tightly to her. Could he feel the joy pulsing through her, powerful, strong, delicious?

  After long, wonderful moments, he eased away again and she saw that he had been as moved as she by the embrace.

  “Will you come see the house now?” he asked.

  Was this his subtle way of taking her inside to make love? She wasn’t quite sure she was ready to add one more earthshaking experience on this most tumultuous of days, but she did want to see his house. Besides that, she trusted him completely. If she asked him to wait, he would do it without question.

  “Yes,” she answered. He grinned and grabbed her hand and together they walked through the trees toward his house. He guided her up the stairs at the side of the house that led first to the wide uncovered porch and then inside to the great room with the huge windows.

  She saw some similarities to the River Bow ranch house in the size of the two-story great room and the wall of windows, but there were differences, too. A balcony ringed the great room and she could see rooms leading off it.

  How many bedrooms were in this place? she wondered. And why would a bachelor build this house that seemed made for a family?

  The layout seemed oddly familiar to her and some of the details, as well. The smooth river-rock fireplace, the open floor plan, the random use of knobby, bulging, uniquely shaped logs as accents.

  Only after he took her into the kitchen and she looked around at the gleaming appliances did all the details come together in her head.

  “This is my house,” she exclaimed.

  “Our house,” he corrected. “Remember how you used to buy log-home books and magazines and pore over them? I started building this house six months ago. It wasn’t until you came back to Pine Gulch that I realized how I must have absorbed all those dreams inside me. I guess when I was planning the house, some of them must have soaked through my subconscious and onto the blueprints. I didn’t even think about it until I saw you again.”

  It was a house that seemed built for love, for laughter, for children to climb over the furniture and dangle toys off the balcony.

  “Do you like it?” he asked, and she saw that wariness in his eyes again that never failed to charm her far more than a teasing grin and lighthearted comment.

  “I love everything about it, Taft. It’s perfect. Beyond perfect.”

  He pulled her close again and as he held her there in the house he had built, she realized that love wasn’t always a linear journey. Sometimes it took unexpected dips and curves and occasional sheer dropoffs. Yet somehow, despite the pain of their past, she and Taft had found their way together again.

  This time, she knew, they were here to stay.

  Epilogue

  His bride was late.

  Taft stood in the entryway of the little Pine Gulch chapel under one of the many archways decorated with ribbons and flowers of red and bronze and deep green, greeting a few latecomers and trying his best not to fidget. He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes and counting when he was supposed to be tying the knot, and so far Laura was a no-show.

  “She’ll go through with it this time. The woman is crazy about you. Relax.”

  He glanced over at Trace, dressed in his best-man’s Western-cut tuxedo. His brother looked disgustingly calm and Taft wanted to punch him.

  “I know,” he answered. For all his nerves, he didn’t doubt that for a moment. Over the past six months, their love had only deepened, become more rich and beautiful like the autumn colors around them. He had no worries about her pulling out of the wedding at the last minute.

  He glanced through the doors of the chapel as if he could make her appear there. “I’m just hoping she’s not having trouble somewhere. You don’t have your radio on you, do you?”

  Trace raised an eyebrow. “Uh, no. It’s a wedding, in case you forgot. I don’t need to have my radio squawking in the middle of the ceremony. I figured I could do without it for a few hours.”

  “Probably a good idea. You don’t think she’s been in an accident or something?”

  Trace gave him a compassionate look. One of the hazards of working in public safety was this constant awareness of all the things that could go wrong in a person’s life, but usually didn’t. He was sure Trace worried about Becca and Gabi just as much as he fretted for Laura and the children.

  “No. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. Why don’t we check in with Caidy?”

  That would probably be the logical course of action before he went off in a panic, since as maid of honor, she should be with Laura. “Yeah. Right. Good idea. Give me your phone.”

  “I can do it. That’s what a best man is for, right?”

  “Just give me your phone. Please?” he added, when Trace looked reluctant.

  Trace reached into the inside pocket of his black suit jacket for his phone. “Hold on. I’ll have to turn it back on. Wouldn’t want any phones going off as you’re taking your vows, either.”

  He waited
impatiently, and after an eternity, his brother handed the activated phone over. Before he could find Caidy’s number in the address book, the phone buzzed.

  “Where are you?” he answered when he saw her name on the display.

  “Taft? Why do you have Trace’s phone?”

  “I was just about to call you. What’s wrong? Is Laura okay?”

  “We’re just pulling up to the church. I was calling to give you the heads-up that we might need a few more minutes. Maya woke up with a stomachache, apparently. She threw up before we left the cottage and then again on our way, all over her dress. We had to run back to the inn to find something else for her to wear.”

  “Is she all right now?”

  “Eh. Okay, but not great. She’s still pretty fretful. Laura’s trying to soothe her. Have the organist keep playing, and as soon as we get there, we’ll try to fix Maya up and calm her down a little more, then we can get this show on the road. Here we are now.”

  He saw the limo he had hired from Jackson Hole pulling up to the side door of the church, near the room set aside for the bridal party. “I see you. Thanks for calling.”

  He hung up the phone and handed it back to Trace. Ridge had joined them, he saw, and wore a little furrow of concern between his eyes.

  “The girls okay?” Ridge asked.

  “Maya’s got a stomachache. Can you stall for a few more minutes?”

  “Sure. How about a roping demonstration or something? I think I’ve got a lasso in the pickup.”

  He had to look closely at his older brother to see that Ridge was teasing, probably trying to ease the tension. Yeah, it wasn’t really working. “I think a few more songs should be sufficient. I’m going to go check on Maya.”

  “What about the whole superstition about not seeing the bride before the wedding?” Trace asked. “As I recall, you and Ridge practically hog-tied me to keep me away from Becca before ours.”

  “These are special circumstances. You want to try to stop me, you’re more than welcome. Good luck with that.”

  Neither brother seemed inclined to interfere, so Taft made his way through the church to the bridal-party room. Outside the door, he could hear the low hush of women’s voices and then a little whimper. That tiny sound took away any remaining hesitation and he pushed open the door.

  His gaze instinctively went to Laura. She was stunning in a cream-colored mid length lace confection, her silky golden hair pulled up in an intricate style that made her look elegant and vulnerable at the same time. Maya huddled in her lap, wearing only a white slip. Caidy and Jan stood by, looking helpless.

  When Maya spotted him, she sniffed loudly. “Chief,” she whimpered.

  He headed over to the two females he loved with everything inside him and picked her up, heedless of his rented tux.

  “What’s the matter, little bug?”

  “Tummy hurts.”

  She didn’t seem to have a fever, from what he could tell.

  “Do you think it’s the giardiasis?” Jan asked.

  He thought of the girl’s abdominal troubles after her near-drowning, the parasite she had picked up from swallowing half the Cold Creek. “I wouldn’t think so. She’s been healthy for three months. Doc Dalton said she didn’t need any more medicine.”

  His knees still felt weak whenever he thought of the miraculous rescue of the children. He knew he had been guided to them somehow. He found it equally miraculous that Alex had emerged unscathed from the ordeal and Maya’s only lingering effect was the giardia bug she’d picked up.

  She sure didn’t look very happy right now, though. He wondered if he ought to call in Jake Dalton from the congregation to check on her, when he suddenly remembered a little tidbit of information that had slipped his mind in the joy-filled chaos leading up to the wedding.

  “Maya, how many pieces of cake did you have last night at the rehearsal dinner?”

  Two separate times he’d seen her with a plate of dessert but hadn’t thought much about it until right now.

  She shrugged, though he thought she looked a little guilty as she held up two fingers.

  “Are you sure?”

  She looked at her mother, then back at him, then used her other hand to lift up two more fingers.

  Laura groaned. “No wonder she’s sick this morning. I should have thought of that. We were all so distracted, I guess we must not have realized she made so many trips to the dessert table.”

  “I like cake,” Maya announced.

  He had to smile. “I do too, bug, but you should probably go easy on the wedding cake at the reception later.”

  “Okay.”

  He hugged her. “Feel better now?”

  She nodded and wiped a fist at a few stray tears on her cheeks. She was completely adorable, and he still couldn’t believe he had been handed this other miraculous gift, the chance to step in and be the father figure to this precious child and her equally precious brother.

  “My dress is icky.”

  “You won’t be able to wear your flower-girl dress with the fluffy skirt,” Jan agreed. “We’re going to have to wash it. It will probably be dry by the reception tonight, though. And look! I bought this red one for you for Christmas. We’ll use that one at the wedding now and you’ll look beautiful.”

  “You’re a genius, Mom,” Laura murmured.

  “I have my moments,” Jan said. She took her granddaughter from his arms to help her into the dress and fix her hair again.

  “Crisis averted?” he asked Laura while Jan and Caidy fussed around Maya.

  “I think so.” She gave him a grateful smile and his heart wanted to burst with love for her, especially when she stepped closer to him and slipped her arms around his waist. “Are you sure you’re ready to take on all this fun and excitement?”

  He wrapped his arms around her, thinking how perfectly she fit there, how she filled up all the empty places that had been waiting all these years just for her. He kissed her forehead, careful not to mess up her pretty curls. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. I hope you know that.”

  “I do,” she murmured.

  He desperately wanted to kiss her, but had a feeling his sister and her mother wouldn’t appreciate it in the middle of their crisis.

  The door behind them opened and Alex burst through, simmering with the energy field that always seemed to surround him except when he was sleeping. “When is the wedding going to start? I’m tired of waiting.”

  “I know what you mean, kid,” Taft said with a grin, stepping away from Laura a little so he could pull Alex over for a quick hug.

  His family. He had waited more than ten years for this, and he didn’t know if he had the patience to stand another minute’s delay before all his half-buried dreams became reality.

  “Okay. I think we’re good here,” Caidy said, as Jan adjusted the ribbon in the girl’s brown hair.

  “Doesn’t she look great?”

  “Stunning,” he claimed.

  Maya beamed at him and slipped her hand in his. “Marry now.”

  “That’s a great idea, sweetheart.” He turned to Laura. “Are you ready?”

  She smiled at him, and as he gazed at this woman he had known for half his life and loved for most of that time, he saw the rest of their lives ahead of them, bright and beautiful, and filled with joy and laughter and love.

  “I finally am,” she said, reaching for his hand, and together they walked toward their future.

  * * * * *

  The Anniversary Party

  Dear Reader,

  I am a big believer in celebrating milestones, and for Special Edition, this is a big one! Thirty years…it hardly seems possible, and yet April 1982 was indeed, yep, thirty years ago! When I walked into the Harlequin offices (only twenty years ago, but still), the first books I worked on were Special Edition. I loved the line instantly—for its breadth and its depth, and for its fabulous array of authors, some of whom I’ve been privileged to work with for twenty years, and some of whom are ne
wer, but no less treasured, friends.

  When it came time to plan our thirtieth anniversary celebration, we wanted to give our readers something from the heart—not to mention something from our very beloved April 2012 lineup. So many thanks to RaeAnne Thayne, Christine Rimmer, Susan Crosby, Christyne Butler, Gina Wilkins and Cindy Kirk for their contributions to The Anniversary Party. The Morgans, Diana and Frank, are celebrating their thirtieth anniversary along with us. Like us, they’ve had a great thirty years, and they’re looking forward to many more. Like us, though there may be some obstacles along the way, they’re getting their happily ever after.

  Which is what we wish you, Dear Reader. Thanks for coming along for the first thirty years of Special Edition—we hope you’ll be with us for many more!

  We hope you enjoy The Anniversary Party.

  Here’s to the next thirty!

  All the best,

  Gail Chasan

  Senior Editor, Special Edition

  Contents

  Chapter One by RaeAnne Thayne

  Chapter Two by Christine Rimmer

  Chapter Three by Susan Crosby

  Chapter Four by Christyne Butler

  Chapter Five by Gina Wilkins

  Chapter Six by Cindy Kirk

  Chapter One

  by RaeAnne Thayne

  With the basket of crusty bread sticks she had baked that afternoon in one arm and a mixed salad—insalata mista, as the Italians would say—in the other, Melissa Morgan walked into her sister’s house and her jaw dropped.

  “Oh, my word, Ab! This looks incredible! When did you start decorating? A month ago?”

  Predictably, Abby looked a little wild-eyed. Her sister was one of those type A personalities who always sought perfection, whether that was excelling in her college studies, where she’d emerged with a summa cum laude, or decorating for their parents’ surprise thirtieth anniversary celebration.

  Abby didn’t answer for a moment. She was busy arranging a plant in the basket of a rusty bicycle resting against one wall so the greenery spilled over the top, almost to the front tire. Melissa had no idea how she’d managed it but somehow Abby had hung wooden lattice from her ceiling to form a faux pergola over her dining table. Grapevines, fairy lights and more greenery had been woven through the lattice and, at various intervals, candles hung in colored jars like something out of a Tuscan vineyard.

 

‹ Prev