“You always make me feel better—like everything is going to be all right,” she said.
“And you make me feel like I’m ten feet tall and bulletproof.” He brought her lips to his with a long, passionate kiss. “Now it’s time we talk about last night.”
Laela crawled over to her and held up her arms. Bridget picked her up and the baby’s stomach grumbled. “She’s hungry. If you think last night was a mistake, then don’t say it. I couldn’t take that.”
“Last night, darlin’,” Maverick assured her, “was even more amazing than what we had in Ireland. Are you fixin’ to tell me that you don’t think it was?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. I hope it was the beginning of something wonderful. You are the most stable thing in my life right now.”
He felt as if he were floating a foot off the floor. “Thank you. I’ll do my best not to let you down. Now we really should feed the baby and get her down for her afternoon nap.”
“I appreciate you saying that, and thank you for making me feel better,” she said.
“I’ve got an idea,” Maverick said. “After we eat, I’ll rock her to sleep while you take a nice, warm bath. That might help soak away some of that tension.”
“Thank you.” She sighed. “That would be beyond wonderful.”
* * *
Bridget sank down in the tub and let the warm water ease all the stress from her muscles. Maybe she would just send money to Sean so he could ship her things to the ranch. She poured water over her hair and worked in the shampoo and rinsed. By then the water had gone lukewarm, so she pulled the plug and stood up.
The bathroom door opened and Maverick took a couple of steps into the room. Bridget stood there with wet hair and water sluicing over her body. She was cold on the outside but his eyes on her body turned her into a quivering mass of heat on the inside. He slipped his hands under her arms and picked her up like she weighed no more than a helium balloon. He set her on the floor and wrapped a big towel around her body, and then picked her up and carried her to the living room, where he laid her down on the sofa.
“I’ve said it before, but you are so beautiful. I could stand here and look at you for hours,” he whispered.
“Thank you, but…” she started.
“Shhh…” He put a finger over her lips. “Let me take care of you.” He disappeared out of the living room.
“Just be still. You’ve had a tough day. Let me do this for you.” He returned and dropped down on his knees at the end of the sofa. First he towel dried her hair and then laid her red hair out like a sheet of silk. Then he worked all the tangles out with a comb, and flipped the switch on the dryer and began to work on it, a section at a time, massaging her scalp as he dried her hair.
It wasn’t fair to compare Sean to a Texan, Bridget told herself, but there was no way she could keep from doing it, so she stopped trying. She couldn’t imagine Sean ever doing something like this for her—or even for Kelly. He’d be too afraid his pub buddies would find out and tease him for it.
That was the last thought she had about Sean that day. All she could think about was the burning desire Maverick created with nothing more than his fingertips. But then, from the very first time he’d touched her, she’d felt the same way. She groaned and then clamped a hand over her mouth.
“That feels wonderful. Oh. My. Goodness.” She moaned when he finished drying her hair and started brushing it out. “This is so romantic and it’s turning me on.”
“Me too,” he said.
“Darlin’, you’ve got all those clothes to take off. All I have to do is stand up like this.” She got to her feet. “And drop this towel.” She did just that and then reached for the first button on his shirt.
“You are so damn beautiful that I’m afraid to touch you,” he said.
“You better get over that fear, because if you don’t make love to me soon, I’m going to take control of this situation.” She took his hand and grabbed the quilt from the back of the sofa. “I like the way the lights on the tree look in your eyes.” She spread the quilt out on the floor.
He picked her up and sat down with her in his lap, and then gently laid her out on the quilt. “I like the way the lights look on your whole body,” he said as his lips met hers and the sweet passion of the night before started all over again.
Chapter Nineteen
The sun was peeking through the window when Bridget opened her eyes the next morning. She moved a few inches and snuggled up to Maverick’s back. “You were right. This bed is much softer than the floor, but there was something magical about making love by the Christmas tree.”
He flipped over and brushed a soft morning kiss across her lips. “I love waking up with you in bed with me.”
“Me too,” she said as she wiggled out of his embrace. “But I hear Laela jabbering, so it’s time to start the day.” She threw back the covers and hurried across the hall.
Laela looked through the bars of her crib and smiled while Bridget got dressed. “After Maverick gets done with his work this morning, we’re going to build a big snowman and take pictures of you with it. Do you like him enough to live with him forever if I should be taken like your mama was?” Bridget picked the baby up, changed her nappy, and got her dressed in a cute little pair of long pants and shirt.
“We have good friends here, but Sean may realize that he’s being henpecked and call us with an apology for his sorry-ass behavior.” She giggled. “That sounded more Texan than Irish.” She carried the baby to the kitchen, and Maverick immediately took her.
“Good mornin’, princess. Did you dream that Santa brought you a pony for Christmas?”
“No, she did not.” Bridget got out a cast iron skillet for the bacon.
“Mama doesn’t know what you dreamed about, but you can tell me,” Maverick teased.
Laela laid her head on his chest.
“That’s what I thought too. You don’t want to go back to Ireland, do you? You want to live here in Texas with me, right?”
“Of course she does,” Bridget said right behind him. “You spoil her. Everyone here does.”
Maverick’s grin was downright impish. “I don’t know how you’re going to get her little Shetland pony over there. It won’t fit in your suitcases, and I’m sure Sean won’t let it live in his living room if you do figure out a way.”
“Don’t you dare.” Bridget poured two cups of coffee and started the bacon frying.
“Too late,” he teased. “And there’s also a kitten and a puppy. Real ones, not stuffed toys. She says she wants a black and white kitten and a yellow dog.”
“Don’t joke with me, Maverick. It would be cruel to give those things to her when she’ll have to leave them behind someday.” Bridget slapped him on the arm.
Maverick grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. “I guess getting you a four-wheeler to use when you help me round up cattle is out of the question then too? You’ll miss getting your hair brushed out or making love under the Christmas tree when you’re in Ireland. If you stay here, we’ll just leave it up all year to light up our sex life.”
She wrestled her hand away from him. “That’s cheating.”
“All’s fair in love and war,” he told her. “Seriously, if and when you do go back to Ireland, I’m going to miss you and this baby so much.”
“I know.” She nodded. “After only one night together last year, I missed you. From what you’ve said, you weren’t much better than me.”
“I can’t imagine life without you and Laela. The loneliness and sadness without y’all will be unbearable. I’m just enjoying every single moment right now like it will be my last one with you and this precious little girl.”
“I’ve agreed to stay longer,” she said.
“I know, but one more month, one more year or even a couple of years, the thought that you will be leaving and going back to Ireland, or even to work for Alana, is right there in my mind. I want to know that you are here forever,” he said.
Bridget fidgeted with her hands—clasping them together and then opening them and rubbing her palms on the legs of her jeans. “Ireland is all I’ve ever known. I can’t imagine not living there. How can a person’s heart want two things?”
“My grandpa used to tell me that you can’t ride two horses with one ass. You have to choose,” he told her.
She giggled. “That’s a pretty good saying.”
“I thought of it all the way home from Ireland,” he said.
“Think you’d ever want to live over there?” she whispered.
“I don’t reckon there’s many opportunities for an old cowhand in your world. I saw a lot of sheep over there, but not any cattle. I know about as much about sheep as I do about ballroom dancing,” Maverick told her.
“I guess we’ve got us one of those conundrums, don’t we?” she said.
“Guess so, but we’ve got a while to figure it out.”
She nodded. “I guess we do, at that. Like you said, I’m going to enjoy every day I have with you. I’m looking forward to spending Christmas with a cowboy.”
“Not just any cowboy, but your cowboy,” he said.
* * *
Bridget had just laid Laela down for her short morning nap when her phone pinged with a text from Sean: Can we talk?
She sent one back: What are you doing up at two o’clock in the morning?
His next text said: Can’t sleep. Can we talk tomorrow?
She typed: Sure. Give me a call when you have time.
She waited a few minutes, but nothing else came. Any other time, it wouldn’t have mattered what time of day or night it was. If Sean or Deidre had called her or sent a text, she would have been right there, on the spot, ready to fix their problems.
But dammit! She thought. I can’t even fix my own feelings before I can help you this time.
When she made it to the kitchen, Maverick was just coming in the back door. He pulled off his coveralls, his hat, and his gloves.
“Want a cup of hot chocolate? I’m making one for me. Laela should be up from her nap soon.”
“Love some chocolate. I’ve been looking forward to playing in the snow all morning with y’all, so I’m glad she’ll be up soon.” He stopped on the way to the living room to kiss Bridget on the cheek. “Granny called this morning. She said for us not to come if the roads are bad, but I think we can make it in my truck. It’s not that far. If you don’t want to get the baby…”
She held up a hand to stop him. “Of course Laela and I want to go. Iris said she wanted to talk to us about something important. I’m sure it’s on her mind, so we should do our best to go see her.” She couldn’t imagine Sean driving in snow to see his grandmother, or wading in it up to the tops of his boots to take care of cattle, either.
Maverick started humming a song, pulled her to his chest, and two-stepped with her toward the living room. It felt oh, so right to be dancing with him, even if it was in the house and not in a pub.
“What are you humming?” she asked.
“It’s an old song called ‘Look at Us.’ It says that a hundred years from now, everyone will look back and wonder how on earth an old Texas cowboy and a royal queen from Ireland ever made it work out,” he said.
“You are full of crap. It doesn’t say that. What does it really say?”
He tipped up her chin, and said, “It says that we’re an example of how true love should be.”
“Are we?” she asked as he backed her up.
“That depends on whether we work at it, or walk away from it,” he said softly.
* * *
When Laela woke up, it was near noon, so they had dinner. Then Maverick helped get her bundled up and took Laela’s high chair out into the front yard and set it down in the snow. When Bridget brought her outside she looked like an overstuffed pink bear, but she didn’t seem to mind when Bridget put her into the high chair. She giggled when Maverick piled snow on the tray.
“She likes it.” Bridget had already begun to roll snow into a ball.
“She likes Texas, period.” Maverick kept one eye on the baby playing with the snow and the other on Bridget while he rolled a huge base for the snowman. “I’m surprised that you aren’t making snow angels. Didn’t y’all ever do that in Ireland?
“When we had enough snow, we did,” she answered. “But that only happened twice in my lifetime. It gets really cold over there, but we don’t get this kind of snow. I can’t wait to put pictures on my Facebook page so Sean and everyone can see.”
If someone else knew about her predicament, wouldn’t they offer to give her a room until she could find a place? Like one of her nana’s friends, or maybe even the preacher at the church where Nana had gone faithfully her whole life. He wanted to ask, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want her to leave, and that might put ideas into her mind.
“We should make a family of snow angels when we get this done. We’ll line them up in a row. Me, then you, and then the baby.” He stood back and looked at the huge snowball sitting before him. “I think we’re ready to get yours set up on this one for his middle part.”
She stood back and looked at what she’d rolled up. “Do you think we can lift it?”
Maverick picked it up, set it on top of the bottom, and only groaned once. “It’s going to take days for this thing to melt. I’ll make his head if you’ll go get us a carrot and something for eyes.”
“Can we use that old hat that the wind blew in the mud puddle? And maybe some leftover Christmas bows for the buttons on his belly? I’ve got an old scarf to tie around his neck.” She trudged through the knee-deep snow to the porch.
“Yes on the hat and the Christmas bows,” he called out as he started rolling a third ball for the snowman’s head.
Laela had gotten bored with her pile of snow and had started to fuss. He hurried and set the head on the top of the snowman. Then he took her out of the high chair and carried her with him to the low-hanging limbs on the pecan tree. “Do you think this one will make a good arm?”
She giggled and reached for it.
“All right then, we’ll break it off and try to find another one like it. Can’t have a lopsided snowman.” Maverick snapped a couple of similar limbs from the tree and stuck them in the sides of the six-foot snowman.
“I got the rest of what we need,” Bridget called from the porch.
Together they wrapped a red-and-green plaid scarf around his neck, gave him a nose and some fancy bow buttons, and then she handed him two small chocolate cookies for his eyes. “I couldn’t find any buttons or bits of coal so this will have to do.”
The final touch was Maverick’s cowboy hat, and then Bridget stood back in awe and clapped her gloved hands together. “He’s just like I always imagined as a child. Stand over there beside him with Laela in your arms and let me take some pictures. This is like a dream come true. This snow is a great present. Merry Christmas to me!”
Maverick couldn’t take credit for the snow, but he had helped build the snowman, and that had made a dream come true. To him, that was a pretty awesome feather in his hat.
Bridget took several pictures with her phone and then handed it to Maverick. “My turn, now. Let me have Laela, and you take some of us so everyone will know how big this Mr. Frosty really is. They don’t know how tall you are, so they might think I’m exaggerating when I tell them this thing is at least six feet tall.”
Maverick snapped several with her phone and then half a dozen more with his own. “You ready to make our snow angel family now?”
“Yes,” she answered. “You go first, then I’ll do mine, and we’ll help Laela make hers.”
He carefully got down on his knees, then flipped around so that he was lying flat, and stretched his arms straight out. When he finished moving them up and down to make the wings of his angel, he got up very carefully so he wouldn’t ruin any part of the outline he had made. As if she knew what was happening, Laela reached for him. When Bridget finished, one of her wings was touc
hing his.
“Let’s put her between us, under our wings,” Bridget suggested.
Maverick laid the baby in the snow. He got a hold of one of her little arms and Bridget picked up the other one. They moved them up and down to make her fat, little wings. She giggled all the time and kept turning her head to sneak licks of the snow. When they were done, Maverick scooped her up and started for the porch.
But before entering the house, he took one look back at the impressions they’d made. One of the baby’s wings just barely touched his side, and the other one, Bridget’s. Their wings served as a shelter, and they really did look like a family.
* * *
When it came time to go back out in the snow and load up the truck for the visit to Iris, the baby quickly tried to wiggle free of Maverick’s arms.
Bridget giggled. “You are going to have to tell her no this time. I know it really hurts you to do that, but you cannot let her play in the snow.”
“You are so right.” He nodded. “I can’t even think about when she’s a teenager and wants something she shouldn’t have. I’m not sure I’ll be able to tell her no then either.”
“You can start practicing today.” Bridget opened the back door to the truck so he could get Laela into her seat. While she was setting the diaper bag on the floor, she realized that she had all but said Maverick would have some say-so in Laela’s raising when the girl was a teenager.
She hadn’t decided to put his name on the papers giving him guardianship of the baby, and she still wasn’t planning to stay in Texas forever—like Iris had done. Evidently, from the words that had come out of her mouth, her mind was taking her in that direction, though. Strangely, the idea didn’t seem as far-fetched as it had a few weeks ago.
Bridget was still thinking about that when he started the engine and drove toward town. She gazed out at the countryside, which was so very different from Ireland. The land was flat where Ireland had rolling hills and cliffs to explore. Here in Texas there were cows instead of sheep. She wondered if she’d ever get used to the accent, or for that matter, used to people asking her where she was from. One thing that was the same, though, was the sky, and looking at it brought a great deal of comfort. Sometimes it was a beautiful shade of blue; sometimes a heavy gray. Always, always, though, the sunsets were absolutely stunning, even more so than the ones in Ireland.
Christmas with a Cowboy: Includes a bonus novella (Longhorn Canyon Book 5) Page 20