Arlene James

Yuletide Cowboys


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to cry in front of him.

      He lowered his arms, his hands twitching into fists. The corners of his full lips bowed downward, and her stomach churned. She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, but she had only a tenuous hold on her own emotions and she simply couldn’t risk it.

      “There was an unexpected storm on the day before Christmas last year—much like this one. It came out of nowhere and created whiteout conditions on the roads.

      “Onyx had seen a television commercial for this specific doll and it was all she talked about for a good month solid. Naturally it was the top-selling girl’s toy that year. We’d planned to do our shopping on Black Friday but no matter how many stores we hit, we couldn’t get our hands on that exact doll, and we knew nothing else would do for her. We called dozens of stores but couldn’t find it anywhere. We checked online but people were selling the doll at ridiculous prices, as if it were some kind of collector’s item and not a piece of cheap plastic in a fabric dress.”

      He chuckled softly. “Crazy, right? I remember desperately wanting a Tickle Me Elmo toy for Christmas when I was a kid. I didn’t get it, although I sincerely doubt my mom put much effort into finding one.” Marcus’s voice lowered, rough with bitterness, and Sarah knew why.

      His mother was an alcoholic who’d abandoned her family when Marcus was five. Unless something had changed in the years since Sarah had last seen him, he hadn’t heard from his mother even once since she left, not even when he graduated from high school.

      And as if that wasn’t enough trauma for a child to go through, his dad had died in a tractor accident when he was nine, leaving him and his older brother, Matt, to be raised by Sheryl, his grandmother on his father’s side of the family. She was a faithful and kind woman who’d given him a good Christian upbringing and had showered him with love. At the end of the day, his grandma had turned out to be a great blessing to him, but Sarah didn’t blame him for harboring a bit of resentment in his heart toward his mother. He’d been through a lot.

      “I remember Elmo, too. What a silly little toy that was. The doll Onyx wanted had a different cry for when she was wet or hungry.”

      “A doll that bawls when she gets hungry? That sounds kind of creepy to me.”

      Sarah nodded. She agreed wholeheartedly about that doll and she hated it for what it represented. Justin’s death. Her deep and abiding sense of loneliness. Even though she still had a loving family surrounding her, sometimes she felt as if she were all alone in the universe. Even her prayers seemed to bounce back at her.

      “On the morning of Christmas Eve, we got a call from a local toy shop in Golden. They had one doll available if we could get into town before the store closed. I told Justin that I didn’t think it was worth going out in the storm. The weather conditions were terrible. Onyx had plenty of other gifts to open. She wouldn’t have felt deprived. But he was always a stubborn man, and he insisted he could make it if he went out on his ATV. He would have done anything for his precious little girl.”

      Marcus nodded.

      “He phoned me when he made it to town safely and picked up the doll for Onyx.” She could barely force the words through her dry lips. “He said the roads weren’t as bad as he’d thought they would be and not to worry about him. But he never made it back. He hit a patch of black ice on the road and slid into a tree. Died instantly.”

      Marcus reached for her again, and this time she let him envelop her free hand in his large, steady one. He pulled her gently to her feet, careful not to wake Jewel, who was now sleeping in the crook of her arm.

      He swept a stray lock of hair behind her ear and let his palm linger on her cheek. “I’m so, so sorry for everything you’ve suffered. My heart goes out to you. And it explains a lot.”

      She wasn’t sure what he meant. Explained what?

      She tried to read his gaze, but it contained such a mixture of emotions that she couldn’t even begin to sort them out and make any sense of them.

      Truthfully, she was afraid to try.

      She wondered if he could feel her tremble under his touch as he brushed the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone.

      “I’m going to make you a promise right here and now,” he declared, his voice raspy. He put the palm of her hand on his chest, over his heart, which was beating rapidly. “I won’t leave this house until you’re certain it’s safe for me to do so. Okay?”

      His thoughtfulness overwhelmed her and she blinked back the tears stinging her eyes. “What about Christmas? Isn’t your grandmother expecting you?”

      His smile returned, gentle yet confident. “I’m sure she’ll understand. Besides, I’ve still got a couple of days yet, and it’s only a ten-hour drive to get to Grandma Sheryl’s ranch. Twelve if I stop for meals and to stretch my legs. Plenty of time to make it home for the holidays.”

      He reached for his cell phone in his back pocket. “I should probably call her before it gets too late and let her know I’ll be staying over here tonight. That way she won’t worry and she’ll know when to expect me.”

      He glanced at his cell and frowned. “Hmm. No bars.” He held the phone above his head and did a little dance, walking around and waving his arm in an attempt to find better reception.

      “The storm is probably messing with the cell tower. You may have to step out on the porch to get any bars. I sometimes find better reception when I go outside. Bundle up, though, or you’ll freeze to death out there.”

      He winked at her. “No need. I’ll only be a moment.” He strode to the front door, yanked on his boots and put on his hat. He ducked his head as he stepped out into the blizzard, only looking back long enough to grin at her and make a shivering motion with his arms.

      As he closed the door, she could hear him laughing. It had been a long time since there had been laughter in the house.

       Far too long.

       Chapter Three

      There was no cell phone reception at Sarah’s ranch.

      None. Zero. Zip.

      Not inside the cabin and definitely not outside in the bitter cold. The freezing wind was blowing snow down the collar of his shirt and he was turning into an icicle. He should have listened to Sarah when she’d told him to bundle up. His thick wool coat would be a welcome commodity right now, but he’d intended to be outside for only a moment. The joke was on him.

      He’d intended to dial Grandma Sheryl to touch base with her. Assure her he was safe and that he’d still be home for Christmas. Let her know that he was still planning to bring the horses as soon as the snow let up. While he was on the phone, he’d also wanted to ask her why she’d purchased Sarah’s draft horses—and speaking of Sarah, why Grandma had failed to mention that the horses belonged to his high school sweetheart. That couldn’t possibly have been an oversight on her part, and Marcus was more than a little bit suspicious that this whole setup was part of some misguided matchmaking scheme Grandma Sheryl had concocted.

      If only she knew just how far off she was.

      He waved his phone in the air one more time for good measure, praying for even a single bar to pop up. He wasn’t surprised when he got nothing. At this rate it would be a blessing if he even managed to make it home in time for the holidays.

      He especially didn’t want to miss out on Christmas this year. According to Grandma Sheryl, his older brother, Matt, was already at the ranch. There had been tension between the two boys since the day their father died. They weren’t close. The whole family hadn’t been together in years. Though he doubted Matt felt the same way about him, Marcus was looking forward to seeing his brother again, even if things remained strained between them—and even if he had to share news from their mother that might serve to pull them further apart. Their mother had recently contacted Marcus and