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The Christmas Cradle
The Christmas Cradle
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The Christmas Cradle

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“I’ll take one to the den,” Ellie offered.

Colter grabbed her before she got too far. “Walk, don’t run, and be careful.”

“Okay.” Ellie slowly walked to the den with the candle held tightly in both hands, Sooner at her heels.

Colter stood, his eyes holding Marisa’s. “I don’t want your death on my conscience, so it seems I have no choice but to let you stay here.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling a need to apologize.

“I don’t think you are. You barge into my life, my home, without any regard for my feelings. I fail to understand how something that happened more than eight years ago could be so damn important. Say what you have to say and then get the hell out of my life.”

She gritted her teeth, the words stalled in her throat. She couldn’t tell him like this—not when he was so angry.

“Nothing to say, huh?” he asked, his words loaded with sarcasm.

“No.” She stiffened her backbone, tired of being the recipient of his insults. “And I will not apologize again. You don’t deserve it.”

His eyes narrowed to mere slits, but before he could vent his rage, Tulley stepped in. “Calm down. Ellie’s in the next room.”

Colter swerved around her and grabbed a big coat off the peg of a closet door. “Ellie, let’s go,” he called.

Ellie came running, with Sooner, as usual, right behind. “Where we going?”

“We’ll check on the horses and make sure they have enough feed and water to outlast the storm, then we have to bring in more wood for the fireplace. It might be the only heat we have for a while.”

Tulley spoke up. “I can do that. You should rest your leg. You were knocked out for a bit, too.”

“It’s just a scratch.” Colter dismissed Tulley’s warning. “And I’ve been knocked out so many times I’ve lost track.”

“All the more reason—”

Colter cut him off. “Let’s go.”

Ellie secured the hood of her coat over her head, glancing at Marisa. “Aren’t you coming?”

“No. Ms. Preston is not coming,” Colter said before she could find her voice. He quickly ushered Ellie out the door.

Tulley stared at her with a sad expression.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.” Colter might not deserve an apology, but she felt Tulley did.

“Not sure why you did.”

“I’m wondering that myself.”

Tulley removed his worn hat and scratched his head. “When you left, it was worse than when that horse trampled him in Cheyenne. He recovered from those bruises, but he’s never fully recovered from what you did to his pride, his heart.”

For the first time she realized how much she must have hurt him. But he obviously didn’t suffer long. She gestured at the darkened room. “He seems to have moved on rather easily.” Colter’s dream had been to own a horse ranch. He’d already bought the land and was saving to build a house when he retired from the rodeo circuit. After meeting her, he’d decided it was time to quit and settle down, and she’d wanted so desperately to be part of his dream. But she never had the chance….

“Not so easily,” Tulley said dryly. “I thought he’d kill himself with the drinking and the partying, then something happened that turned him around.”

She raised her eyes to his. “Ellie?”

“Yeah. When he found out about her, it changed his whole life. Her…her mother decided she couldn’t be a mother, and Colter took full responsibility.”

To say Marisa was shocked was putting it mildly. She couldn’t imagine Shannon not wanting their child. Shannon had been crazy about Colter and they had shared the same interests—horses and the rodeo. What had gone wrong?

She swallowed. “Colter’s a good father.”

“Does that bother you?”

“A little,” she admitted reluctantly. A lot would have been closer to the truth. Colter should know he’d had a son, too.

Tulley crammed his hat back on his head. “That little girl is the center of Colter’s world. Everything he does, he does for her. Please don’t come between them.”

“Oh, Tulley, I would never do that.”

He nodded. “I’m glad. And for good measure I’m asking you not to hurt him again. He didn’t deserve it eight years ago, and he certainly doesn’t deserve it now.”

“Tul—” But Tulley was gone and all she heard was the slamming of the door.

She watched the candles on the table, her emotions flickering and wavering like the glow of the flames. One minute she wanted to tell Colter the truth, the next she didn’t. She took a deep breath, recognizing that her actions were thoughtless and inconsiderate. She’d only been thinking about herself. Maybe Colter was right that she hadn’t changed. Maybe her mother— Oh God, her mother! Her parents were probably waiting for her this very minute to sit down to dinner. She had to call.

Through the dimness she saw a phone on the kitchen wall. She reached for it, but the line was dead. Now what? Her cell phone might work. Looking around for her purse, she realized it was still in her car at the corral. She’d have to go herself, because she certainly wasn’t asking Colter for any favors.

She opened the back door, then immediately closed it. The temperature was freezing, and she needed a heavier coat. Her eyes settled on the closet full of coats—surely Colter wouldn’t mind? She rummaged until she found a heavy navy wind-breaker with a hood. Holding the jacket to her face, she breathed in the leather and musk scent—Colter. She remembered that tantalizing fragrance, and for a moment she was lost in its magic.

She slipped on the jacket, which was rather large but would do. She zipped it up and tucked her hair beneath the hood.

Outside she stopped as the frigid air took her breath away. It was bitterly cold—the temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees. Light sleet fell to the ground. Icicles hung from the roof and the trees, and the wind added to the chill factor. She had to get her phone in a hurry.

There was no ice under the covered walkway, but as soon as her heels touched the grass, it crunched beneath her feet. Suede heels were not the ideal footwear for this weather. They’d be ruined, but she didn’t particularly care. Her goal was to reach her car without breaking her neck.

She judged each step carefully, but a few yards from her car her feet slid out from under her and she landed on her butt with a thud that jarred her whole body. Sleet peppered her head, and her face, hands and feet were numb. Tears weren’t far away. Everything seemed to close in on her at once.

What am I doing here? What am I doing here?

Sitting there, miserable, she felt her life become as clear as the chill in her bones. She’d believed she’d grown stronger and more confident, but in reality she hadn’t. That was why she was so dissatisfied with her work. She’d traded living with her mother for living with her father, and he was just as domineering and controlling. Yet she clung to that security. Why? At almost twenty-six, she should be making a life for herself. She was a pampered little rich girl, just as Colter had said, unable to stand on her own two feet.

At the moment, that was the actual truth. Her body shook with cold, and she made a promise, a vow to herself. She was going to change her life completely—get away from her parents. Now if she could just get to her feet…

Colter dumped fifty pounds of feed into a trough under the eaves of the barn. He turned—and saw Marisa as she fell. He dropped the bag and ran for the gate. She wasn’t getting up. Was she hurt? His feet slowed as he realized what he was doing—going to her aid. The past came full circle, and so many feelings were choking him, he fought to breathe. I don’t care about her. I don’t. He’d help anyone who needed help. I don’t care about her. I don’t. Over and over, he repeated the words, but he never stopped in his movement toward her.

“Are you hurt?”

Marisa glanced at him, squinting against the sleet. “No. Just my pride.”

“Well, get up. It’s freezing out here.”

“I’ve tried, but my feet keep slipping out from under me.”

Without a word, he held out his leather-gloved hands.

She placed her cold hands in his and he pulled her to her feet. When she slid into him, he caught her, holding her steady. He hadn’t touched her in eight years and the sensation radiated a warmth that dispelled the cold. It brought back so many wonderful memories of touching her, loving her, until the warmth became a blazing flame. He hated the fact that he could remember those emotions so clearly.

“Were you trying to leave?” he asked, suddenly releasing her.

She brushed sleet from her nose. “I was trying to reach my car to get my cell phone. I need to call my parents, and the phone at the house is dead.”

At the mention of her parents, he stepped away from her. “Mommy still keeping tabs on you?” he asked, unable to disguise his sarcasm.

She stuck out her chin in defiance. “I live with my father in Dallas.”

“I don’t—” He stopped and sucked air into his lungs. “Get in your car and drive into the garage and call whoever the hell you have to.” Saying that, he strolled back to the barn.

Marisa shoved away the pain of his words and quickly drove her car into the garage. Not because he’d told her to, but because it was the sensible thing to do. She let the motor run, hoping the interior would soon warm up. She found her cell phone, but when she tried to call, there was nothing but static.

The clock on the dash told her it was seven o’clock. Dinner was at six, so by now they would be wondering where she was. Lamar Norris and his son, Adam, were dinner guests, and her father was not going to be happy she wasn’t there. He’d been trying for the past few months to arrange a date between her and Adam. She had stoically refused. She was not attracted to Adam. He didn’t wear cowboy boots or a Stetson hat or have green eyes. Every man she met she compared to Colter, and they all came up short. She’d never admitted that to herself before. She hadn’t moved on at all. She continued to wallow in the emotions of the past.

The man in question didn’t want her anywhere near him or his daughter. He’d made that very plain. Yet here she was, stuck for the night.

She wondered if her mother had arrived safely. If she had any idea where Marisa was, she’d have a fit. Cari was the only one who knew. She hoped her parents assumed she’d sought shelter from the storm. They’d be worried, but there was nothing she could do about that.

Hearing voices, she turned the motor off and climbed out. She grabbed her purse, then followed Colter, Ellie and Sooner into the house. Colter carried an armload of wood and Ellie held the door for him. Tulley was outside piling more wood on the patio.

Colter had a roaring fire going in a matter of minutes, and Marisa realized she had a problem: her clothes were dirty and wet. But she wasn’t going to mention it. She’d caused enough trouble. She huddled closer to the fire.

Tulley came through the patio doors with a couple of flashlights. “Ah, it feels better in here already.”

“Ellie, take the flashlight and see if you can find Ms. Preston some dry clothes in Becky’s room.” Colter spoke from the doorway, and she could feel his eyes on her.

“Are you wet?” Ellie asked, still wrapped in her big coat.

“Yes. I went out to my car.”

“You have to walk fast. That way you don’t get wet.”

“I’ll remember that,” she replied with a grin.

“Ellie, the clothes,” Colter said in an impatient voice.

“Okay. Okay.” Ellie took the flashlight from Tulley and headed for the stairs.

“I’ll go with you,” Marisa offered.

“There’s no need,” Colter snapped.

“She has to put them on, Daddy,” Ellie said, as if she were talking to a child.

There was a long pause. “Okay, but hurry. It’s cold up there.”

Marisa trailed Ellie and Sooner up the stairs onto a balcony overlooking the den. She could see the fire blazing and Colter and Tulley silhouetted against it. They were talking—probably about her—and she wished this night was over.

Ellie found her a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a sweatshirt, wool socks and a corduroy jacket. The jeans were a tad big in the waist, but everything else fit fine. Her cashmere coat was ruined, as were her shoes.

Ellie shone the light on her high heels. “Wow. Can I try them on?”

“Sure, but let’s take them downstairs. It’s warmer there.”

“Okay.” Ellie took off running with the heels, and Marisa followed more slowly.

In the den, Colter and Tulley had made a pallet with blankets and quilts, and there were more quilts on the sofa.

“Oh boy,” Ellie cried, falling down on the pallet, the heels forgotten. “We’re having a slumber party.”

“It’s not a party,” Colter said, his voice stern.

“Is, too,” Ellie insisted.

Colter sighed. “Tulley’s put out some cold cuts, fruit and soft drinks, so eat, and then we’ll all get some sleep.”

They sat on the floor around the coffee table. Colter ate sitting on the sofa, and she noticed a telltale grimace when he leaned over to reach for the mustard. His leg must be hurting, but he’d never admit it.

Marisa wasn’t aware of what she was eating. The fire was warm and cozy and the candlelight flickered hypnotically. She felt as if she’d slipped into another time, another place, where she should’ve been eight years ago—here with Colter… She stopped those thoughts immediately.

Tulley gathered up the leftovers. “I’ll throw this in the trash, then I’m off to my featherbed.”

Ellie ran and gave him a kiss. “’Night, Tulley.”

“’Night, shorty.”

“Tulley’s tough,” Ellie told her. “He grew up in the— What did he grow up in, Daddy?”

“The Depression.”

“Yeah, and sometimes all he had to eat was bread and water. He didn’t have any shoes, either, and he had to walk ten miles to school.”

“Tulley’s pretty impressive.” She smiled.

“He also tells impressive stories,” Colter said under his breath.

“’Night, everyone,” Tulley called, and Marisa could hear the laughter in his voice.

Colter stood. “You take the sofa.” He didn’t call her by name, but she knew he was talking to her.

“No. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You’ll sleep on the sofa.” His words were final.