Christmas Texas Bride (The Brides 0f Bliss Tx. Book 4)

by Katie Lane

  It suddenly dawned on Maybelline why Carrie Anne had chosen Cord as her prince. It wasn’t just his big ranch house or his horses. It was the hope that if Cord had turned into a good father, then maybe her father could too. The longing in the little girl’s eyes made Maybelline’s heart break. Not just for Carrie Anne, but also for a father who didn’t realize what he was missing. She wished she could tell the precious little girl that her father would come back, but only God knew if that was true.

  She reached out and patted Carrie Anne’s arm. “There’s nothing wrong with hoping that your father will recognize his mistake and start acting like a daddy. But even if he never does, you are blessed to have a mother who loves you with all her heart. Now finish your cookies so we can start on your phonics homework and make your mama proud.”

  As Carrie Anne polished off her other sugar cookie, Maybelline continued to frost the rest of the cookies. While she worked, she thought about how sad it was that Carrie Anne didn’t have a father to love her. And that Christie had lost her faith in men. And that Cord was struggling to forgive himself. They were certainly three broken hearts that needed some mending. And love was the best way to mend a broken heart.

  As the town matchmaker, Maybelline was experienced at getting couples to the little white chapel. She had helped fix up all the Arrington cousins and most of the Hadleys. But Cord and Christie weren’t going to be easy to get together. She didn’t know of two people less ready for love. Christie didn’t trust men, and Cord didn’t trust himself. It would take a miracle to get them to love again.

  Maybelline glanced down at the Christmas cookie she was frosting and smiled.

  Luckily, this was the season of miracles.

  Chapter Five

  Christie sat at the desk in Cord Evans’s office and tried to concentrate on the post she was writing for his blog announcing his new line of cowboy boots. But her attention kept getting distracted by the cowboy working in the corral right outside the window.

  Cord was training Raise-A-Ruckus. He had the beautiful sorrel stallion on a long rope and was using a lunge whip to get Ruckus to walk, trot, and run in a circle around him. Christie had been appalled when she’d first seen Cord using the whip until she’d realized that he never touched the horse with it. He just lowered, raised, or cracked it to get Ruckus to do what he wanted. It was fascinating to watch.

  It was also erotic.

  There was something so sensual about the way Cord handled the horse. The way he used the rope and the whip to get the animal to bend to his will. Even though it was a chilly first of December, Cord didn’t wear a jacket, and she could see his muscles flex beneath the thin cotton of his worn western shirt. Muscles she had touched when he’d caught her . . . and wanted to touch again.

  She’d thought that after Danny Ray, she’d be immune to cowboys. Which is why she had taken the job from Cord. She’d figured that she had more than outgrown her infatuation. But falling into Cord’s arms had completely obliterated that theory. In the last week, she couldn’t stop her gaze from wandering to his large hands that had spanned her waist or his defined chest that had pressed against her breasts. Her preoccupation was damned annoying. She didn’t have time for sexual thoughts or fantasies. She had a child to raise, two jobs to hold down, and a gingerbread contest to win. And the latter wasn’t coming along so well.

  In the last few days, she and Summer had drawn out numerous ideas for gingerbread houses. But not one of them seemed original enough to win. With only weeks before the judging, she needed to come up with a plan soon so she could start building it. Which meant she needed to stop ogling Cord and finished his blog so she could get to the bakery.

  She turned away from the window and back to Cord’s laptop. She was almost finished with the blog when a tap had her glancing at the doorway. Cord’s son stood there with a friendly smile on his face.

  Ryker was a carbon copy of his father—from the deep chestnut hair that had a tendency to curl over his forehead to the soft chocolate eyes that held a wealth of emotion.

  “Sorry to interrupt you while you’re working,” he said. “But there’s a publicity idea that I wanted to run by you.”

  “Of course,” she said. “Although I’m not really an expert on the subject.”

  “You’ve been doing a pretty expert job. Since you took over Cord’s social media, you’ve upped his engagements by forty-eight percent.” He laughed. “I tried to tell him that no one cared what he was having for breakfast.”

  “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Cord appeared in the doorway next to his son, confirming Christie’s earlier thoughts on Ryker being his carbon copy. The only difference between the two men was that Ryker had the smooth skin of a younger man who spent most of his time inside, while Cord’s skin was bronzer and there were squint lines at the corners of his eyes. But, for some reason, that made him even more attractive.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Ryker said. “I wanted to run something by you and Christie.”

  “Let’s hear it.” Cord held out a hand for Ryker to take one of the chairs in front of the desk before he sat down in the other. Which left Christie sitting behind the desk feeling awkward.

  She quickly got up. “You sit here, Cord.”

  He shook his head. “I’m fine. I never was a desk type of guy. The only reason I got it was because Ryker said I needed one.” He winked at her. “And it’s worked out great for my new assistant.”

  “You need more than a desk,” Ryker said as Christie sat back down. “When are you going to buy some furniture for this monstrosity of a ranch house?”

  Ryker had a point. As far as Christie could tell, the only room in the house with furniture seemed to be the office. The huge great room with the stone fireplace had nothing in it. The chef’s kitchen with the mile-long marble island only had a coffeemaker. And the guest bathroom she and Carrie Anne used when they were there didn’t even have towels. She’d had to bring a roll of paper towels and hand soap for them to wash their hands.

  “Savannah Arrington is working on that,” Cord said. “My new mattress and bedroom furniture was delivered yesterday. And today, she’s coming out to measure the other rooms.” He paused and sent his son a hopeful look. “Before she gets here, I was thinking that maybe you and I could go fishing.”

  “Sorry, but I have to check on the electrician that’s working at my house. When Summer and I bought the house down the street from Waylon and Spring’s, we thought it would be fun living in a hundred-year-old Victorian. We didn’t realize that old meant falling down around your ears. After we moved in, I had to put on a new roof and now it looks like the wiring needs to be redone.”

  “Sounds like you bought a bit of a money pit,” Cord said.

  “You can say that again. If anything else breaks, I’m going to start looking for another place to live. Although Summer loves the old house. She thinks it has character.”

  Cord smiled. “Believe me, she’ll like a brand new house even better.” Since Ryker hadn’t been talking about building a brand new house, the comment was a little odd. Ryker must’ve thought so too.

  He stared at his father with confusion. “I’m not planning on building a house. It wouldn’t be finished before the baby got here.”

  “Of course. My mistake.” Cord quickly changed the subject. “So what did you want to talk to me and Christie about?”

  “With your new line of cowboy boots coming out, I thought we should do some extra promotion. I placed ads in a few ranching and western living magazines, but we still need to do something for social media. And I was thinking about a holiday giveaway. People love winning things. Your followers would especially love winning a pair of your new boots.” He glanced at Christie. “What do you think?”

  “I think a giveaway is a great idea,” she said. “How would you want to set it up?”

  “I was hoping you’d have some ideas. You’ve been doing a great job of posting pictures that Cord’s followers seem to really res
pond to. The picture of him cleaning out the horse stalls got thousands of likes. So I say we go with something that has to do with his life here on the ranch.”

  She thought for a moment before an idea popped into her head. “What about ‘Christmas on the Ranch?’ or ‘A Cord Evans Christmas’?’”

  “Or ‘A Big Boot-iful Texas Christmas.’” When both Christie and Ryker looked at Cord, he shrugged. “It was a joke. Obviously, not a good one.”

  Ryker laughed. “A little too corny, Cord. I love Christmas on the Ranch. It has a nice ring to it and will appeal to your demographic. We can post pictures of you decorating for the holidays to coincide with the giveaway posts.”

  Cord didn’t look all that excited. “I think we need more than just pictures of me stringing lights and hanging ornaments on a tree. That doesn’t say Christmas on the ranch as much as lonely old cowboy. It would be better if we posted pictures of me and my son.”

  Ryker’s hesitation was brutally obvious. The hurt look on Cord’s face said it all. Christie shouldn’t feel sympathy for him. All her sympathy should be with Ryker. She had been on his side of the fence and knew what it was like to be deserted by your father—what it was like to hope that your daddy would come back at Christmas and do all the things with you that other kids’ dads did with them. And she knew the resentment you felt when your father never showed up. She saw that resentment on Ryker’s face and could read his thoughts—if you didn’t want to spend Christmas with me as a kid, why do you want to spend it with me now?

  And yet, even knowing how he felt, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for Cord. His face was etched with such pain and regret. Maybe that’s why she had sympathy for him. He felt regret for what he’d done. Some fathers never did.

  She sent Ryker a beseeching look. “I think people would love seeing pictures of Cord and his son and daughter-in-law.”

  A long moment ticked by before Ryker nodded. “Sure. I guess Summer and I could help decorate a tree and string some lights.” He glanced at his watch. “I better get going.” He got up. “I’ll call you later, Christie, and we’ll go over all the details.” He lifted his hand. “See ya, Cord.”

  Cord nodded. “See ya, son.”

  Once he was gone, Cord’s shoulders slumped. “Cord. I’m starting to hate the name.” He blew out his breath and stared down at his boots. “He used to call me Daddy. Whenever I came home after weeks on the rodeo circuit, he’d come running with his little arms wide open, yelling “Dad-dy! Dad-dy!” He slapped his knee with his hat. “And I screwed it up. I damn well screwed it up.”

  Christie couldn’t help the tears that sprang to her eyes. She didn’t know if the tears were for Cord, Ryker, or herself. Maybe they were for every dad who screwed up and every kid who had to deal with it.

  “What he calls you doesn’t matter as much as how he feels about you,” she said. “And it’s obvious that he cares about you. But becoming a father he can trust will take some time. It’s not something that’s going to happen overnight.”

  Cord ran a hand through his wind-tousled hair. “I know. And I know I get pushy at times and try to force things. If I’m not careful, I’ll force him completely away.”

  “Loving him won’t force him away, Cord. Everyone wants to be loved by their parents. He’s just resentful that you didn’t show him that love sooner. But he’ll get over it.”

  Cord lifted his gaze and studied her with soft brown eyes. “When you mentioned your father the other day, it didn’t sound like you were over your resentment for him.”

  “My resentment is still there because my father never did love me. And judging from how our first and only meeting went, he never will.”

  “Is he the one who named you Christmas?”

  She had hoped that Cord hadn’t made anything out of her rushed departure from the diner the other day. She should’ve known better. She’d acted like a complete idiot when he’d only been teasing her. If she had kept her cool and laughed, no one would know her real name and her secret would be safe. Of course, if she kept her cool now, maybe it still would be.

  “No,” she said. “My mama did. But I really hate the name. So if you would keep it under your hat, I’d appreciate it.”

  “I don’t know why. Christmas is a beautiful name.” He studied her intently. “Just as beautiful as Spring, Summer, and Autumn.”

  So much for keeping her secret.

  She sat back in her chair. “How did you figure it out?”

  “It wasn’t all that hard once I knew your name. It never made sense to me why a single mom from Wyoming would suddenly show up in Bliss, Texas, and want to put down roots. I would think that a single mom would want to live close to family so they could help her.” He smiled. “Of course, that’s exactly why you want to live here, isn’t it? You want to be close to your family.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not about me. I’ve survived with only a mama for over thirty years. I figure I could survive with just me and my daughter for the rest of my life. But I want more for Carrie Anne. I want her to have what I didn’t. I want her to have cousins to play with and aunts and uncles to spoil her rotten.”

  “So what are you waiting for? Why haven’t you told the Hadleys that Holt is your daddy?”

  She shrugged. “I was going to, but then I figured I’d wait until they got to know me and Carrie Anne. It will be easier for them to accept a friend as family than a stranger.”

  “From what I can tell, you are friends with them.”

  He had a good point. She had become friends with the Hadleys. She got along with all three of the triplets and she talked with Dirk every morning when he came into the bakery before he started his day as mayor. She’d even babysat for his triplet girls a few times while his wife Gracie volunteered at the Tender Heart Museum or worked on the book she was writing. So what was she waiting for? Why hadn’t she told them about being their half-sister? There was only one answer.

  “I guess I’m scared. What if they hate me after they find out? What if they hate Carrie Anne?”

  “I can’t see that happening.”

  “But it’s possible. They believe that their mama was the only woman Holt ever loved enough to have children with. I’ll blow that theory completely out of the water. Not to mention screwing up the entire Hadley birth order. Summer is quite proud of being the oldest Hadley. I can’t see her taking kindly to being bumped out of that position.”

  Cord laughed. “You do have a point there. My daughter-in-law loves ordering her siblings around. But I doubt you being older will change that. So where did Holt meet your mama?”

  “In Wyoming. He was working on his uncle’s ranch and entered a county rodeo and won the bull-riding contest. My mama was the one who awarded him the trophy. And that was all it took. The women in my family have always been suckers for cowboys.” Her cheeks heated when she realized what she’d said. “Not me . . . I mean, not me anymore. Now I hate rodeo cowboys.” She cringed. “Present company excluded, of course.”

  He sent her a skeptical look. “Of course. So I gather your father didn’t stick around once he found out your mama was pregnant.”

  “She didn’t know she was pregnant until after he was gone. When I was born, she got his address from his uncle and sent Holt a letter telling him about me, but he never replied. I wanted to believe that he never got the letter.” She paused. “But it turns out he did get it.” She looked at him. “I know it seems silly that I would go in search of a father I’d never even met. But after my mother died, I had this huge hole inside me that I just needed to fill. So I got Holt’s last address from his uncle and came to Texas. I had this dream that he’d be excited to see me. Instead, he couldn’t have cared less. He didn’t even shed a tear for my mama passing away.”

  Cord studied her, his eyes sad. “I’m sorry.”

  “What for? You aren’t responsible for all the sins of all the deadbeat dads in the world.”

  He tapped his hat on his knee. “No, I guess not. My sins are h
eavy enough a burden.”

  “Are you going to tell Summer about me?” she asked.

  “It’s not my secret to tell. But I do think that you need to. I know you’re scared, but I don’t think the Hadleys are the type to shut out a good woman and a sweet little kid.” He got up and pulled on his hat. “You can trust me to keep your secret.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for giving me a job and being so nice to me and Carrie Anne. Ryker should be happy to call you his dad. Hopefully, one day he will.”

  He didn’t say anything. He just stood there for a moment with his heart in his eyes before he nodded and walked out of the room.

  When he was gone, Christie thought about their conversation. He was right. She shouldn’t be scared of telling the truth. The Hadleys weren’t the type to hold a grudge against her for something she’d had no control over. She would tell them the truth . . . but after the holidays.

  Just in case she and Cord were wrong, she refused to ruin Carrie Anne’s Christmas.

  Chapter Six

  Savannah Arrington was a go-getter. Once she’d measured Cord’s house and made sketches of the layout, she went right to work on filling it with furniture. Furniture trucks from Austin arrived daily loaded down with couches, tables, chairs, and more beds. And packages were delivered at all hours from online stores filled with things Cord hadn’t even known he needed. Like colorful throw pillows, a bright turquoise kitchen mixer, a Trojan horse doorstop, and all kinds of gewgaws and knickknacks.

  By the end of the week, the ranch house had started to resemble a home . . . just not a home that looked anything like Summer and Ryker’s. And since they were the ones he’d built the house for, he wasn’t too happy. Once it was all decorated, he planned to ask Ryker and Summer to come live on the ranch. He had missed most of his son’s first twenty-four years, and he didn’t want to miss a second of his next twenty-four. This was a chance to give his son a home. This was his chance for redemption.