Christmas Texas Bride (The Brides 0f Bliss Tx. Book 4)
Page 3
“Well, I certainly can’t let Ryker’s father sleep on the floor.” She walked over to the counter where a computer sat and started clicking away. “I have an account with a wholesaler who carries great beds. I’m thinking a masculine frame with a cushioned headboard and a California King mattress with a nice pillow top and extra support.”
“That sounds like heaven to me.”
In about fifteen minutes, Savannah had a bed and mattress ordered for him, along with all the bedding to go with it. “I got express delivery, but it still won’t be here for a few days.”
“I think I can manage until then. I sure appreciate the help. What do I owe you?”
“You can pay me when everything gets here. And I’m giving you the wholesale price because Ryker gave me a great deal on setting up my new website. Your son is a computer genius.”
He couldn’t help feeling proud. Before Ryker had moved to Bliss, he’d owned an online job search company that he’d helped turn into a billion-dollar business. He was now trying to do the same thing for Cord’s cowboy boot company. Cord didn’t need to make a lot of money. He just wanted his son back.
“Well, he sure doesn’t get his genius from his father,” he said. “I can barely turn on my computer. Which is why I hired an assistant.”
“I heard that Christie Buchanan is working for you. I haven’t gotten a chance to talk with her much, but she seems sweet as apple pie. And her daughter is quite the little pistol.”
Cord grinned at just the thought of Carrie Anne. “That she is.”
Savannah moved out from behind the counter. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“As a matter of fact, there is. I heard that you helped my son and daughter-in-law decorate their house and I was wondering if you would do the same for my ranch house.”
Savannah’s face lit up. “I was hoping you’d ask, honey.” She grabbed a pad and pencil. “Now what would you say your style is so I can start looking for furniture and décor that would suit you?”
“Actually, I don’t want you decorating the house in my style. I’d like you to decorate it in Ryker and Summer’s.” Savannah looked confused, and he figured she had a right to be. But he didn’t want his Christmas surprise ruined so he told a little white lie. “I love the way you decorated their house and want mine to look similar. I’d also like you to turn a room into a nursery for my grandchild.”
Savannah’s eyes welled with tears. “That’s so sweet. I wish Raff’s parents lived closer so they could spend more time with Dax. Sweet babies should get to be around their grandparents.” She leaned in and gave him a hug. “I’ll make it just as adorable as Dax’s nursery—unless that baby turns out to be girl. Then I’m going to make it a princess nursery to beat all princess nurseries.”
He laughed. “I’ll leave that up to you.”
They were deciding what day would be best for her to come out to the ranch and measure the rooms when the door opened and Raff came walking in. He was carrying a dark-headed bundle the size of a football in the crook of his arm. The sight was like being kicked in the head by a brahma bull.
Cord remembered holding Ryker in the crook of his arm. He remembered how small and perfect Ryker had been. He also remembered how quickly he’d wanted to hand his son back to his mama. At the time, Ryker had felt like a burden to Cord—a weight that was holding him back from making something of himself. He’d been so young and stupid. So damned stupid.
A sharp hunger for a drink slammed into him. It grew even stronger when Savannah hurried over and kissed her husband. Cord could’ve had this. He could’ve spent his life with a loving wife and a perfect son . . . and maybe a pretty little girl as feisty as Carrie Anne. He could’ve had twenty years of memories with a warm and loving family. Instead, he had vague memories of drunken nights spent in cheap hotel rooms.
“Hey, Cord,” Raff said with a proud smile. “You want to meet my son?”
Cord didn’t want to. He wanted to get the hell out of there so he could get a handle on the addiction that gnawed at his belly. But he’d tried running before, and he knew it only made things worse. He had to face his demons. No matter how painful.
He forced a smile as he rolled the beads of his hatband through his fingers. “Yes, sir. I sure do.” He briefly made a fuss over the chubby sleeping baby before he turned the conversation to cattle and Raff’s ranch, which was not far from Cord’s. After what felt like an eternity, he put on his hat and excused himself. Once outside, he released his breath and tried to block out the images sweet baby Dax had conjured up. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop the flood of memories of Ryker at the same age and all those precious moments he’d wasted.
His gaze wandered over to the only bar in town. Just one drink. Just one shot of tequila to take the edge off the sharp pain of regret. But before he could step off the curb to cross the street, someone called his name.
“Cord!”
He turned to see Christie hurrying toward him. She had on a down jacket, skinny jeans, and the high heeled boots that had caused her to fall the day before. The memory of holding her soft body against his replaced the need for a drink with his newfound need for sex. He didn’t know which was worse. Either could screw up everything he’d worked so hard to reclaim. And he wasn’t about to let that happen. He wasn’t going to lose himself in a bottle again. And he certainly wasn’t going to lose himself in Christie Buchanan’s arms. Not only was she his assistant, she was also much too young for him.
“Hey, Christie,” he greeted her.
She stopped in front of him. The wind blew a strand of her pretty wheat-colored hair out of her braid and she tucked it back behind her ear. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” She paused. “Actually there are two things I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Shoot.”
Before she could, another gust of wind had Cord’s cowboy hat tumbling down the street. He ran after it. Regardless of the pledge he’d just made to keep his thoughts about Christie purely platonic, he couldn’t help being conscious of his limp. It wasn’t that noticeable when he walked, but running was a different story. Of course, maybe it was a good thing she saw him as the beat-up old cowboy he was. He scooped up his hat and walked back to her.
“What say we continue this conversation at Lucy’s Place Diner?” he said. “No one can talk in this wind, and I haven’t had lunch and I’m starving.”
They were given the corner booth at the diner. Once they were seated, Cord waited for Christie to start talking. When she didn’t, he decided to fill the awkward silence with a little Bliss trivia. “Did you know that this is the very booth where the famous writer, Lucy Arrington, used to sit and plot all the books in her Tender Heart series?”
She looked impressed. “No, I didn’t.”
“Did you read the series?” He pulled out two menus from behind the sugar container and handed her one.
“As a matter of fact, I did. Did you?”
He shook his head as he opened his menu. “I wasn’t much of a reader. I wanted to spend all my time with horses.”
“Did you grow up on a ranch?”
“Not until I was in my teens. Before that, I lived in Lubbock. After my dad died, my mom remarried a man with kids of his own. I was a little resentful and became a handful so I was sent off to a boys’ ranch for troubled teens.”
She lowered her menu and looked at him. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I loved being at the Double Diamond Ranch. The two guys who ran it were these gruff old rodeo cowboys who loved horses and helping delinquent kids as much as they loved to argue and chew tobacco.”
“So that’s where you got your love for the sport.”
He nodded. “And you? What was your childhood like in Wyoming?”
She smiled sadly. “Perfect. My mama was the best mother in the entire world. She was a seamstress and could make wedding dresses as beautiful as any big city designer. She loved to bake and sing country songs at the t
op of her lungs—even though she couldn’t carry a tune to save her soul. She was a horrible singer, but a wonderful mother and grandmother. I think some of Carrie Anne’s acting out is because she misses her Mimi so much.”
He set down his menu, even though he didn’t have clue what he was going to order. “It sounds like you miss her too.”
For a moment, he didn’t think she was going to answer. Then she released her breath in a puff of air. “So much that I uprooted my daughter from a home she loved and went on a wild goose chase looking for a father to replace her.”
“And did you find him?”
“Yes.” She closed her menu like she closed the conversation. “I wanted to ask you if your offer to watch Carrie Anne still stands.”
He really wanted to ask more questions about her father, but he had a gut feeling that he wasn’t going to get any more answers so he let it go. “I’d love to.”
“Thank you. It will just be for a couple weeks. I’m working on a new project at the bakery that’s going to need my full attention.”
“Must be some wedding cake.”
“Actually, it’s a gingerbread house. I’m entering a contest. And I don’t expect you to watch Carrie for free. You can take it out of my pay just like you’re taking out the cost of fixing my car.”
He shook his head. “Now I took out the money to fix your car because you got pretty wired up about it. But I refuse to take money for watching Carrie Anne when I enjoy her company so much.”
“She talks your ear off.”
“And that’s what I enjoy. Listening to her talk, keeps my mind off other things.” Like being a bad father . . . and a bottle of Patrón.
She hesitated for only a second before she nodded. “Fine. But if she should start to drive you crazy, just let me know. And you won’t have to watch her today because Ms. Marble offered to tutor her in phonics a couple times a week.”
He grinned. “You mean phone-tics.”
She laughed. “My daughter.”
The waitress walked up to take their orders. Christie just ordered water. He was really getting tired of his assistant’s refusal to take anything from anyone. He ordered the Sander sisters’ chicken fried chicken. He had ordered it before and had no trouble eating the two pieces of crispy chicken and mountain of mashed potatoes covered in gravy. But when the waitress set the plate on the table, he acted surprised by the huge portion.
“There is no way I can eat all this. You better bring another plate.” When Christie started to argue, he held up a hand. “If you don’t eat it, you can take it back to Summer. Of course chicken fried chicken just doesn’t taste the same when it’s heated up.”
Christie ended up eating her portion, but she was smart enough to figure out his ploy. “I’m not a starving homeless person you need to feed, Cord. I work at a bakery where Summer lets me cook anything I want for lunch.”
“But can you make chicken fried chicken as good as this?” He took a big bite and winked.
She laughed and shook her head as she went back to eating.
“So what was the other thing you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked.
She paused with the fork of chicken half way to her mouth. She set it down on the plate and lowered her gaze. “I just wanted to make sure that you didn’t misunderstand what I said the other day about . . .” She swallowed. “About you having a nice body.” She lifted her gaze. “It was just an observation. I don’t want you thinking that I’m interested in you.”
There was a part of him that was relieved. He didn’t need any distractions from his goal of mending his relationship with Ryker. But there was also a part of him that felt a little deflated. It had been ego boosting to have a pretty young thing find him attractive. But his ego was what had turned him into a dumbass drunk. It was best to leave his ego out of things.
“I didn’t think you’d be interested in an old rodeo bum like me.”
She seemed surprised by his reply. “You’re not that old.”
“At forty-five, I’m a lot older than you. I figure you’re around Ryker’s age. Twenty-four? Twenty-five?”
She smiled. “Thank you for the compliment, but I’ll be thirty-one on December 25th.”
He was surprised. She looked much younger. “You’re a Christmas baby. Let me guess, your full name is Christmas Buchanan.”
He meant it as a joke, but she didn’t laugh. Her smile faded as she grabbed her coat and scarf. “I really need to get going. Thanks for lunch. And thank you for watching Carrie Anne for me.” She slid out of the booth and left the diner before Cord could get over his confusion.
Why would she get so upset? The only thing he could come up with was that Christmas was her name and she didn’t like it. His eyes narrowed as he watched her cross the street.
Or maybe she just didn’t want anyone knowing it.
Chapter Four
It was funny that people couldn’t see what was right in front of their eyes. Or maybe they just didn’t want to see it. The truth, more times than not, was painful. And it was better to hide from it, then face it.
Maybelline Marble could attest to this fact. When she was younger, she had hidden from the truth and chosen not to see what was right in front of her eyes. And it had been painful to finally come to terms with the fact that Justin Bonner, who she’d loved with all her heart, hadn’t felt the same way. He had married her and given her months of happiness before he died, but he had never loved her like he’d loved Lucy Arrington.
Having gone through that pain, Maybelline had sworn to be more observant. Studying people had become one of her favorite past times. Over the years, she became extremely good at reading people and discovering their truths.
Although figuring out Christie Buchanan’s truth hadn’t been all that difficult.
All you had to do was look closely at her daughter.
“Did you know I’m gettin’ married, Ms. Marble?” Carrie Anne licked the frosting off one of the Santa sugar cookies Maybelline had given her as an afternoon snack.
“And who is the lucky man?” Maybelline asked as she continued to frost the rest of the cookies. She had plans to take the cookies to church on Sunday for the children in her Sunday school class. The promise of a sugary snack made children much better listeners during the bible lesson.
“Oh, I can’t tell you,” Carrie Anne said. “If my mama found out, she’d have a fit.” She licked off the rest of the frosting before she bit off Santa’s head in one big bite. “If there’s one thing my mama hates, it’s a—”
Maybelline held up her frosting knife and stopped her. “Finish eating before you speak. Ladies do not talk with their mouths full.”
“Oh, I ain’t a lady. I’m a kid.”
Maybelline bit back a smile. “You’re a kid who also happens to be a young lady. Now finish that bite.”
Carrie Anne chewed rapidly, then took a big gulp from her glass of milk, leaving a white mustache above her top lip. Yes, if anyone in town took the time to look, they would recognize those lips and the stubborn chin and the sparkle of mischief in the hazel eyes.
“What is it that your mother dislikes?” she asked.
“Rodeo cowboys. And she doesn’t just dislike them. She hates them as much as she hates hairy spiders and slimy snakes and me saying ‘shut up.’ My daddy is a rodeo bum who left me and my mama without so much as a goodbye or a wedding ring. It all has to do with the Buchanan Curse. My grandma—God bless her soul—told me all about it. Her mama fell for a rodeo bum. Mimi fell for one. And so did my mama. Before she went to heaven, Mimi said that I’m the only spark of hope left to break the curse. I can’t fall for a no-good rodeo bum. I have to marry a prince among men.”
“And this man you’re going to marry is a prince?”
“Yep.” Carrie Anne bit off a Santa leg and would’ve started talking if Maybelline hadn’t lifted an eyebrow. The little girl chewed and swallowed. “’Cept he don’t got a castle.”
“Doesn’t have a castle.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out who Carrie Anne’s prince was. And Maybelline wasn’t surprised. She had known Cord Evans was a prince as soon as he came into town. He had worked so hard to get back in his son’s good graces, and he’d achieved that goal. Ryker had forgiven his father. Now all Cord had to do was forgive himself.
Carrie Anne wiped her mouth with the napkin Maybelline handed her. “And once me and Cord get married—” She realized her slip and stared at Maybelline with wide hazel eyes.
Maybelline alleviated her fear. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Carrie Anne looked suspicious. “Promise on your grandma’s grave? Because if word gets back to Mama, she’ll put a stop to me and Cord getting married in a heartbeat. She’s pretty much against marriage and men.”
“But your mother will have to find out eventually. Or are you planning on eloping?”
“No, I’m getting married in the little white chapel just like Autumn and Coach Murdoch. But I’m inviting my entire school and the town. Except for Stuart and Race. I’m not inviting those poop heads because they call me Brat and won’t let me follow them around. And I’m gonna tell Mama eventually, but I want her to get to know Cord a little better. I figure once she sees what a nice man he is, she won’t keep me from marrying him. Then maybe she’ll be able to forgive my daddy. And maybe he’ll come back. And just like Cord, maybe he’ll be real sorry for leaving and won’t be a deadbeat no more.”