Carolyne Aarsen

The Cowboy's Christmas Baby


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a big job coming up in Mercy I’m hoping to get in on.”

      “You still enjoy the work?”

      “It’s work,” Dean said carefully knowing that his brother was fishing. Again. Feeling him out about coming in as a partner on the ranch. That had always been the plan when Vic made a deal with Keith McCauley to lease his ranch. Then came the accident that changed so much for Dean. Now he wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore or where he fit. Rodeo was off the table and he didn’t know how much of an asset he could be to Vic.

      If he couldn’t ride a horse.

      “Once Erin comes back Lauren and Jodie can make a final decision about the Circle M. And I was hoping you would make one, too,” Vic returned.

      “I thought their dad said in his will that only two of them had to stay two months.” When Keith McCauley died his will stipulated that two of the girls had to stay two months on the ranch in order for all three to inherit.

      “Lauren and Jodie both fulfilled the conditions of their dad’s will, that’s true, but I think they just want to talk it over with Erin. Out of courtesy.” Vic waited a beat, then shot him a glance. “And once that’s done, we need to make a decision about you coming in with me as a partner.”

      “I know. I need some time.” Dean shifted in his seat again, stifling his frustration as he watched the fields flowing past.

      “You’ve had time. This was the plan,” Vic continued, his voice holding an edge of anger. “We talked about it before I approached Keith McCauley to lease the ranch from him, and now that it’s pretty much a go I want to expand the herd. But I can’t do that if I can’t get a commitment from you.”

      Dean knew he was stalling and understood his brother’s exasperation. Ranching together had been their plan for the past ten years. When he’d dated Tiffany he’d imagined his life with her in the little house on one corner of the Circle M Ranch, tucked up against the river.

      He had been working for Jan Peter for a couple of years as a carpenter and had already planned the renos he was going to do on the house after he and Tiffany got married.

      But those dreams had been busted in two decisive moments. When Tiffany broke up with him and when he smashed his leg half an hour later.

      “Lauren and I are getting married soon,” Vic continued. “I need to know where we’re at. If I need to bring in another partner or if you’re still part of this.”

      “I know and I appreciate that you’ve been willing to wait,” Dean said, staring ahead at the road flowing past rolling fields toward the mountains cradling the valley. “But I’m not sure where I belong anymore.”

      “What do you mean? You belong here. You’re a rancher. It’s your legacy and it’s in your blood.”

      Dean released a humorless laugh. “And what kind of rancher can’t ride a horse?”

      Vic looked back at the road, his one hand tapping his thigh as if restraining his impatience. “You just need to try again.”

      Dean’s mind ticked back to the last time he tried to get on a horse. Vic had come upon him trying to mount up. He wanted to help and they’d had a fight. Dean had wanted to try on his own and his brother didn’t think he could. Trouble was, Vic was right. And though he had come across all tough and independent, truth was he was scared spitless and secretly thankful for the chance to walk away.

      “And lots of ranchers don’t ride horses,” Vic continued. “They use their trucks or quads—”

      “You can’t take a quad up into the high pasture or the back country. We both know that,” he said, his voice hard. “Ranchers in this country ride horses. Simple as that.”

      And Vic’s silence told Dean that his brother knew he was right.

      “You’ll ride again” was all Vic said.

      Dean wished he had his sibling’s optimism. Because right about now, he felt as if both Vic and his boss, Jan, were merely helping him out. Giving the poor cripple a hand up.

      He wasn’t used to that. He was used to being independent and doing things on his own. Like he had up until the accident.

      And now they were going to see his brother’s fiancée and the girl he’d once cared for. And he was coming as half a man.

       Chapter Two

      This was it.

      Erin slowed as she headed down the driveway and made the final turn. She saw the house situated on the hill, overlooking the fields and the mountains beyond, and felt the land wrap itself around her heart and stake its claim.

      She wanted to stop and take it in.

      But Caitlin had been fussing ever since her aborted stop in Saddlebank and Erin never had gotten that drink.

      She headed toward the house, parking beside a couple of smaller cars. She didn’t recognize one but guessed it was Jodie’s from the stickers on the windows and the beads hanging from the rearview mirror. The other one she knew to be Lauren’s. Plus, in spite of the dust on the road, it gleamed in the afternoon sun. Lauren always liked things orderly and tidy.

      Caitlin was screaming by the time she shut the engine off. Erin jumped out, quickly unclipping her car seat, grabbing the diaper bag.

      The door of the house burst open as she headed up the walk and Jodie and Lauren spilled out, arms wide, calling out her name.

      And then stopped dead in their tracks staring at the car seat she lugged up the walk, Caitlin now howling her protest from within.

      “Hey, guys. Can you take her? I’m parched.” Erin unceremoniously thrust the car seat toward Lauren, gave Jodie a quick smile and rushed into the house, not even bothering to look behind her. She knew she was being a coward but she really was dying of thirst.

      And she needed a moment.

      She ran to the bathroom, turned the tap on and gulped down a glass of water. Then another. As she lowered the cup she caught her reflection in the mirror. Hollow cheeks, sallow complexion and hair that looked like she had been attacked by an angry squirrel. Of course Dean would have to see her like that.

      And why do you care?

      She cared because even though Dean was eminently unsuitable and definitely not her type, he’d always held an undeniable appeal. He represented a part of her that sometimes yearned to be cool. Accepted. Independent.

      Well, you’re not, she told herself, finger-combing her hair and with quick, practiced movements, tying it up in a loose topknot.

      Sam liked it when she wore it down. And since she’d broken up with him, she’d deliberately started wearing it up.

      Besides, that way Caitlin couldn’t grab it.

      A faint wail resounded from the living room and then the sound of her sisters hushing her baby.

      She held the edges of the counter, dizziness washing over her. She blamed it on a combination of not eating for the past twelve hours and the nerves holding her in a steady grip all the way home.

      She splashed some water on her heated cheeks, patted them dry, sucked in a long breath and left to face her sisters.

      As she walked around the corner she felt a sense of coming home. To her left was her father’s office, to her right the kitchen where she and her sisters had spent a lot of time cooking and baking and trying out recipes. Things they were never allowed to do at their grandmother’s house back in Knoxville where they lived ten months of the year.

      The living room lay ahead with its soaring ceilings and large windows that let in so much light. The huge stone fireplace dominated the one wall but no fire burned in it now.

      Jodie sat on the loveseat cradling Caitlin