Christmas with a Cowboy: Includes a bonus novella (Longhorn Canyon Book 5)

by Carolyn Brown

  “If you’ll put Laela in her high chair, we can have a sandwich for supper, and I’ll heat Laela up some leftover pie,” Bridget said. “I’m surprised that I’ve gotten used to calling it supper rather than dinner so fast.”

  “Texas grows on you.” Maverick laid the book to the side and stood to his feet with Laela still in his arms. “Come on, princess, I’ll get you all situated on your throne.”

  Once she was safe in the chair, he cut pieces of leftover ham into the right thickness for sandwiches. Bridget sliced the rest of a loaf of homemade bread, and then brought out cheese and olives.

  When it was on the table, Laela began pounding on the tray of her high chair. Maverick tucked her hand into his, bowed his head, and said a simple prayer. He thought about all the times when he was alone at the cabin and had dived right into his food without even saying a silent thanks to God. He could almost feel Granny glaring at him.

  Bridget sniffled and was dabbing her eyes with a napkin when he raised his head. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “It’s the little things that bring back a memory of my nana. She used to hold Laela’s hand when she said grace,” Bridget said. “It was sweet of you to do that.”

  Maverick reached around the high chair separating them and patted her on the shoulder. “It’s bittersweet, but a good memory. Hold on to those.”

  * * *

  If someone had told Bridget a year ago that she would be on her way to a church in Texas to help get the props ready for the Christmas program, she would have ordered them a straitjacket. Yet, there she was, watching the countryside go by at sixty miles an hour with a baby in the backseat of the truck, and with a sexy cowboy at the wheel.

  “Do you realize that it was one year ago today that you came into the pub where I worked?”

  “I didn’t remember the exact day, but I knew it was about this time of year because Granny and I were home in plenty of time for her to get things ready for Christmas. What did you do after I left?” he asked.

  “I went home on the bus,” she answered. “Nana fussed at me, saying we were going to be late for church, but we weren’t. Then I slept all afternoon. What did you do?”

  “I stared at your picture on the long plane ride home and wished that I’d met you the first day I was in Ireland instead of the last day. I would’ve tried to call, but I didn’t even know your last name.” Maverick parked the truck at the back of the church, turned off the engine, and turned to face her. “I like having you here, Bridget.”

  “I like being here.” She smiled as she unfastened her seat belt. “But not even God can move Ireland next door to Texas. This is your place. Mine is in Ireland.”

  “I’ll pray real hard that he works on that between now and Christmas.” Maverick slung his door open.

  “I’m not sure that prayer will get past the church ceiling, but you can try. We’d better go on inside if we’re going to get anything done tonight.”

  “I’d rather take you to the Wild Cowboy Saloon and dance with you all evening.” He grinned.

  “Last I checked babies weren’t welcome in those places.” She opened her door and slid out of the seat. “Besides, would you want to be telling Iris that we didn’t get the props ready?” she asked.

  “Party pooper.” He got out of the truck. “I’ll take the baby. You get the diaper bag.”

  “Maybe so, but we aren’t those same two fly-by-impulse people that we were last year in Ireland.” She picked up the diaper bag and started across the parking lot. She reached for the knob, and the door flew open before she could get a hand on it.

  Even in her jeans with holes in the knees and a paint-stained chambray shirt, Alana looked like she had just stepped out of a photo shoot for a magazine. “I thought I heard slamming doors. Come on in.” She motioned them inside. “We’ve got the curtains out to hang tonight.” She talked as she led them down a long hallway with Sunday school rooms on either side. At the end, she turned left and went into a fairly large storage room. On one side was a closet with burgundy choir robes hanging all pressed and at the ready. The rest of the room looked like a Christmas store had blown up in there. What it needed was some severe organization, and all they had was two weeks.

  A bit like your life right now, isn’t it? that niggling voice in her head whispered.

  Yes, it is. Bridget didn’t even argue. After the holidays, not one thing about her future had been sorted out. Not a place to live, a job, or a babysitter for Laela.

  “Okay, there’s the sewing machine. We’ve got a couple of curtains that need mending.” Alana pointed at a table. “If you can run it, I’ll gladly take care of Laela. I like kids. I hate sewing.”

  “I can sew a straight seam, but don’t ask me to do anything real fancy.” Bridget looked around at the dusty floor and all the things that could fall on the baby.

  “Don’t worry.” Alana held out her hands, and the baby went right to her. “When Iris said you were going to help, I brought a playpen in here from the nursery. I even put a few toys in it to entertain her.”

  “Well, hello, everyone.” A tall cowboy with blond hair and brown eyes came through the open door.

  “This is Ryan Daniels.” Alana made introductions. “I roped him into helping for a couple of hours tonight.”

  “Small price to pay.” Ryan’s smile deepened his dimples. “Afterward I get to take her to the honky-tonk and dance with her until they close the joint down.”

  “Or maybe until midnight. I’ve got a field to plow tomorrow morning,” Alana said.

  “Well, we’ll take any help we can get,” Maverick said. “How about the two of us go get the rods set in place for these curtains?”

  Bridget sat down at the table and picked up one of the long blue panels. She found the first rip, stitched it, and then reinforced the hem that was coming out. Alana brought out a scrub bucket full of water and started washing the dust from a six-foot wooden cutout of Santa Claus.

  “How’re things working out without Iris at the ranch?” Alana asked.

  “Just fine.” Bridget laid the curtain aside and picked up the next one.

  “I met Ryan at the Wild Cowboy last weekend, and he asked me for a date. I don’t usually date the guys I meet there,” Alana said.

  “You don’t have to explain to me.” The memory of Bridget’s night with Maverick rushed a little heat though her body.

  “But I want to,” Alana said. “He seemed like a nice guy, and he’s taller than me”—she smiled—“so I decided to test him.”

  “Looks like he’s passing.” Bridget wondered if she should test Maverick.

  “I believe he just might be. He’ll have to jump through a few more hoops before I’m ready to introduce him to Daddy, but so far so good.” Alana finished washing the top half of Santa.

  Bridget would have liked to have the privilege of introducing Maverick to her father or to her nana, or even to Sean, but that wasn’t going to happen. She remembered the day that Deidre told her that she was going out with Jimmy. Bridget hadn’t been a bit surprised, since they’d been flirting for months. She tried to think what Deidre would say if she’d told her that she was dating a Texas cowboy, but it was so far-fetched that she couldn’t even imagine it.

  “Maverick likes you a lot,” Alana said.

  Bridget hit the foot pedal too hard and almost ran the needle right through her thumb. Could Alana read her mind? Did her face look different when she was thinking about Maverick?

  “What makes you say that?” Bridget stammered, and laid her hands in her lap.

  “I’m pretty much like a sister to him.” Alana pulled out a chair and sat down. “I know him pretty damn well. There’s something different about him, and I think it’s you.”

  “Maybe it’s just that he’s back home on his own land,” Bridget suggested. “Or that he likes the holidays.”

  “I’ve seen him on the Callahan Ranch and at Christmas,” Alana said. “This is a different Maverick than I’ve ever seen. I do
n’t think he even realizes it, but he will.”

  “We’ve only been around each other a short while.” Bridget chose her words carefully.

  “Long while. Short while,” Alana said. “Y’all have got something going, and if you don’t act on it, you’re both crazy.”

  “What if it’s just a case of lust, not love? How do you tell the difference?” Bridget asked.

  “I’ve partied with him,” Alana said. “I’ve seen his lust in his eyes. He’s different, now. He’s happy, and it shows. He was sad when he came home from Ireland a year ago, but then he moved across the state. I thought that might help, but anytime I called or talked to him, the sound of sadness was still there. It’s gone now, and the only thing that’s different in his life is you and Laela.” Alana stood up and went back to cleaning Santa Claus.

  “Ireland is my home. Texas is his,” Bridget whispered. “There’s no bridge between the two.”

  “But there could be a bridge between two hearts. Ever heard that old song ‘Love Can Build a Bridge’?” Alana asked.

  “No, I haven’t ever heard it,” Bridget admitted.

  Alana pulled her phone from her hip pocket, found the song, and played it.

  Laela pulled up on the side of the playpen and wiggled her whole body to the music.

  “See, even a baby likes it.” Alana grinned.

  “It’s a beautiful song. Thank you for playing it for me,” Bridget said. “Can I help you wash the rest of the props, now that I’m done mending curtains?”

  “Don’t go tryin’ to change the subject,” Alana said. “Listen to the lyrics. When it says that everything begins with you and me, just put your name and Maverick’s in there.”

  “Maybe so,” Bridget agreed. “Time will tell.”

  “Don’t break his heart, or I’ll have to hurt you,” Alana cautioned.

  Bridget didn’t know the woman well enough to know if she was teasing or not, but just in case she wasn’t, she said, “You better pack a dinner, because it will take all day.”

  Alana took a few steps forward, wrapped Bridget up in a hug, and said, “You are exactly what Maverick needs in his life.”

  “Why would you say that?” Bridget asked.

  Alana stepped back and sat down in a chair beside the playpen. “You’re sweet and kind, but you hold your own. He’s sown wild oats, but down deep he’s not as self-confident as the tough cowboy everyone thinks he is. He doesn’t think he can have a relationship because he doesn’t have anything to offer.”

  “That is a bit of horse crap,” Bridget said. “Why would he think that?”

  “It’s a long story, but he’s…” Alana stopped and cocked her head to one side. “They’re coming back in here. We’ll talk later.”

  Oh, yes, they would, Bridget vowed. Maverick damn sure didn’t seem like he was lacking in self-confidence to her—not one tiny bit—so she’d like to know why Alana would say such a thing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, Bridget was still thinking about what Alana had said about Maverick. In her eyes, he had always been way out there beyond confident—even a little cocky. She had done all her chores that Saturday morning, talked to Iris on the phone twice already, and told her about what they’d accomplished at the church the night before. Dozens of cookies were wrapped on colorful disposable plates and stacked in boxes to give to the nursing home patients. Everything was ready, and she’d just made herself a cup of tea when her phone rang.

  “Hello, Sean. What’s on your agenda this Saturday night? Darts at the pub?” she asked.

  “I haven’t been to the pub since we talked last,” he said.

  Sweet Jesus and all the angels in heaven! What was that woman’s name—Katy, Karen? Kelly! That was it. She must’ve really gotten her hooks in him if he wasn’t going to the pub every night to play darts and flirt with the lasses. “Have you been sick?” Bridget asked.

  “Never better, luv.” He chuckled. “What are you doin’ tonight? Going to a Texas honky-tonk? Sleeping with a cowboy?”

  “I asked first,” she reminded him.

  “Kelly and I are in a good place in our relationship,” he said. “But she just might be the one.”

  He’d only known the woman a week at the most. Was he out of his mind?

  “Are you still there?” Sean asked.

  “I’m here.” She put the phone on speaker and fixed a midmorning bottle for Laela.

  “Did you just put me on speaker? Who is there in the room with you?” Sean asked.

  “Yes, you’re on speaker. I’m making a bottle for Laela and she’s in the kitchen with me. So is Ducky and Dolly, but one is a dog and the other is a cat, so you can talk freely,” she said.

  “Good,” Sean said. “Where’s the cowboy?”

  “Out at the barn or mending fence,” she answered. “He mentioned both this morning. This afternoon we’re taking the eight kids in our Sunday school class to a nursing home to sing for the elderly.”

  “They must be hard-pressed for Sunday school teachers.” He chuckled.

  “It’s only for a few weeks until Iris gets back on her feet and takes it over again,” she explained. “And it’s not funny.”

  “It kinda is,” Sean said. “I can almost see myself teaching Sunday school if Kelly and I move in together after the first of the year—”

  “What?” she squealed when she butted in. “You’ll only have known her a few weeks. That’s not long enough to be askin’ her to live with you.”

  “And that, luv, is my business, not yours,” he said with an edge to his voice. “I was about to say that I’m ready to settle down, and I really like this girl”—his tone softened—“and that if we do make that decision, her flat will be up for rent. It’d be a right nice place for you and Laela when you come home.”

  Evidently every dark cloud did have a silver lining, just like Nana said. “That sounds great, but think about all you’ll be givin’ up if you have a woman living with you all the time. She won’t make your breakfast and then go home. You won’t be flirting or maybe not even going to the pub every night.”

  That would be just as much for Maverick to give up, she thought the minute that she said the words.

  “Don’t go off half-cocked, luv,” he told her. “We haven’t even talked about that yet, but I can see it could happen and wanted to tell you about her flat. But by then, you might be living with a cowboy and not even need a place for you and Laela.”

  “I will not be living with him,” Bridget argued.

  “Listen to me, Bridget,” Sean said in a stern tone. “I thought there was plenty of time for me to settle down to married life. Then Deidre passed on before she was even thirty and it jarred me to the ends of my soul and back. We are not guaranteed to live so long that someday we sit on a porch and watch great-grandchildren play in the yard. We could be snatched away tomorrow like she was. I want a wife and children before I die. I do not want to leave this earth with no one to—”

  “You cannot marry the first girl who comes along,” she butted in, “for that reason.”

  “I’m not arguing with you,” he said. “I’m hanging up now before we say words that we can’t take back, and we aren’t friends anymore.” The call ended.

  She stomped her foot, but that didn’t make enough noise, so she opened and slammed a cabinet door. Bridget felt horrible when Laela stuck out her lower lip and began to whimper.

  “I’m so sorry, sweet baby.” Bridget gathered her up in her arms, picked up her bottle, and carried her to the living room. She’d just settled down into a rocking chair when she heard the front door open.

  “Anybody home?” Alana called out.

  “In the living room.” Bridget raised her voice.

  Laela spit out her bottle and stared at the door. When Alana arrived, she held up her arms. Alana removed her coat and cowboy hat and tossed them at a nearby recliner, then took the baby. “What’s the matter, darlin’? Were you expectin’ Maverick?”

 
“She thinks it’ll be him every time the door opens,” Bridget said. “Want a glass of tea or something to drink?”

  “No, I’m good.” Alana sat down on the floor and handed Laela a toy giraffe. “Look at that. She’s smilin’ so I’m forgiven for not bein’ her favorite person.”

  “She likes most everybody,” Bridget replied, “but I have to admit, she does love Maverick.”

  “We didn’t get to finish our conversation about him last night, so I thought I’d come over while Maverick is out working,” Alana said.

  “How did things go with Ryan?” she asked.

  “It was a one-date thing. He’s divorced, has three kids all under the age of six, and lives with his mama so she can help out with the children. I’m not ready for that,” Alana said.

  “But he seemed like a nice guy,” Bridget argued.

  “He is,” Alana nodded, “and he’s a great dancer and wonderful kisser, but why start something that has no finish? I don’t want a self-made family, and I don’t want a man who’ll leave his kids at home and go bar hopping, either. So that’s over. But what I came to talk to you about isn’t Ryan.”

  “Okay…” Bridget said. “But we’re both supposed to be at the church tonight. You might’ve told me then.”

  “Not with Maverick and my dad there,” she went on. “You should stay in Texas. I’ll give you a job on my ranch when Iris comes home and takes the reins back. You can help out in the house like you do here. I’ll pay you very well, and you won’t even have to shell out your money for a babysitter. I talked to my dad about it, and he thought it was a wonderful idea.”

  “Why would you do that?” Bridget asked.

  “Because it will give you and Maverick more time to get to really know each other, and”—she shrugged—“because we can use the help. A live-in housekeeper and cook is almost impossible to find, and I hate that kind of work. I’d rather be outside plowing fields, working cattle, building fence—anything but being cooped up inside the house. And besides, Maverick has always been one of my best friends, and he will be heartbroken if you go back to Ireland. He might not even know it right now, but he will be, and I don’t want to see him like that.”