The Christmas Cradle

Her high heels hindered her progress over the loose dirt but nothing deterred her as she hurried to Colter’s side. When she reached him, the child called Ellie was already there, holding Colter’s head, crying, “Daddy, wake up! Please wake up.”

Marisa squatted beside them, her hand gently brushing the brown hair from his face. He was completely motionless, and her whole body felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

Ellie glanced up at Marisa, tears streaming down her face. “Is my daddy dead?”

“No, no,” Marisa insisted, staring into green eyes so much like Colter’s. She quickly looked back at Colter, feeling the cold hand of fear grip her heart as she stared at his eyelashes, so dark against the pallor of his skin. His broad chest moved slightly, and she sucked in a breath of frosty air.

Her eyes traveled down to his legs. “Oh, my God,” she said. Something on the fence had ripped his jeans and blood was soaking through the denim.

The man came running over. “Is Colter okay?”

“He’s cut his leg. Would you get me a clean cloth to stop the bleeding?” she asked him.

The man hesitated for a second, then walked off to the double doors that opened into the barn and came back with a small towel. She pulled the jeans away and saw a gash about three inches long. It wasn’t deep. That was good, anyway. She pressed the towel against the wound and gave a sigh of relief as the bleeding slowed.

Colter’s eyelids fluttered open.

“Daddy, Daddy,” Ellie cried, kissing his face.

“Oooh,” he groaned, his eyes blinking. “What happened?”

“That mean old horse threw you,” Ellie told him.

“Damn.” He sat up, and as his hand went to his head, his eyes caught hers. “What are—?”

“You cut your leg on the fence,” she broke in.

Colter’s dazed eyes focused on her.

“Please leave,” he muttered in a thick voice.

“Colter, you’re hurt and…” Her voice trailed away as he struggled to his feet.

Marisa and Tulley immediately tried to help him.

Colter shook off Marisa’s arm.

“Who are you?” Ellie asked, staring at her.

“Uh—I’m Marisa Preston, a friend of your dad’s. I knew him a long time ago.” Silence followed.

“Lots of people know my daddy,” Ellie declared a moment later. “He’s a famous rodeo rider.”

The two men walked slowly to the house, Ellie and a grayish brown dog running ahead. There was no invitation for Marisa to come in, but she hesitated only a fraction of a second before trailing after them. She had to talk to Colter.

As they walked to a covered walkway, a light sleet began to fall and the cold wind tugged at their clothes. Shivering, she followed the others through the door and down a hallway—there was a laundry room to the right and a closet on the left. They entered a spacious breakfast nook and a kitchen decorated in a lovely country style. Touches of cobalt-blue and white milk glass were here and there, and the white-and-blue tiled floor only added to the feeling of warmth.

Marisa looked around for Shannon but didn’t see her. It suddenly dawned on her that this was inappropriate. She shouldn’t be here interrupting his family life. She should have called and arranged a meeting—that would’ve been the proper thing to do. Since confronting him in the store, though, she hadn’t been thinking too clearly.

“Ellie, turn up the heat. It’s getting cold,” Colter said, and slumped into a chair.

Ellie disappeared, and the man knelt in front of Colter with a first-aid kit and began to clean the jagged cut.

“Can I help?” she asked.

“I’ve been fixing his cuts, bruises and broken bones for more years than I care to remember,” the man replied. “So, no, I don’t need any help.”

That voice finally jogged her memory. “I’m sorry, Tulley, I didn’t recognize you.”

Tulley slit Colter’s jeans slightly to bandage the cut, then rose and faced her. “It’s been a long time, Marisa, and under the circumstances I think it’d be best if you left.”

Marisa bit her lip for fear it would start to quiver. This man had been kind to her once, but now kindness was not extended. She should leave; she’d already acknowledged that, but for some reason she couldn’t make herself go. The urge to talk to Colter was still strong, overriding good manners and common sense, and it kept her rooted to the spot.

“Daddy, what’s all that noise?” Ellie asked, running into the kitchen.

The adults had been so involved with one another that they hadn’t noticed it was sleeting in earnest now and that the wind howled.

“It’s just sleet, angelface.”

“Oh boy! Is it gonna snow, Daddy?”

“I don’t think so.”

“C’mon, Sooner, let’s go see,” Ellie shouted, and rushed out the door with the dog behind her.

“Ellie…”

“I’ll get her,” Tulley offered, glancing from Colter to Marisa. Colter nodded and Tulley left.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” she said as his eyes bore into her. “I shouldn’t have interrupted your life with Shannon and your daughters, and I…”

Colter looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I just saw Shannon from a distance in the store and I assumed the other little girl was yours, too.”

“If you saw Shannon, you have very good eyesight. She lives in Wyoming. The other little girl is Lori, my daughter’s best friend. The woman was my sister, Becky. It’s just Ellie and me now.”

“Oh.” Marisa didn’t know quite what to say. She’d pictured a perfect, happy marriage for him, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with the situation now that she knew differently. Leaving would be the best course of action. But she couldn’t go without telling him about their son. It was now or never.

“After seeing you today, I felt I needed to explain about the past,” she plunged in.

He shook his head. “Marisa, I thought I made this clear, but evidently you didn’t understand. I’m not interested in anything you have to say. We had a brief time together. It was over years ago. Nothing you say can change a thing, and I don’t care about your excuses anymore. It just doesn’t matter.”

It just doesn’t matter. Their son didn’t matter. She swallowed hard, trying to accept that, but nobody, not even Colter, could ever make her believe the short time their son was alive inside her didn’t matter. Their son had changed her life, and her perception of life in general. Losing him had given her the strength to stand up to her mother. She was still struggling to find herself, to find her niche in the world, but that had been a start.

It just doesn’t matter, he’d said. Maybe to him it didn’t. He had a new life, a new child, and Marisa was the only one not able to accept the past and move on. Suddenly she could see that Colter was right; telling him wouldn’t change a thing except maybe to cause him more hurt. And what would that accomplish? Nothing.

Losing their son was her own private pain and she had to deal with it on her own. Mistakenly she’d believed that sharing the truth about their baby with Colter would ease her heartache. But she was the only one who could overcome that grief.

“Please leave and don’t come back.” Colter’s voice penetrated her thoughts. “There’s nothing left to say.”

They stared at each other like strangers, total strangers, and Marisa felt the numbness of that reality. She had to leave.

But before she could move her feet, Ellie burst through the back door, followed by the big dog.

“Daddy, you should see,” Ellie shouted, pushing back the hood of her coat. “Ice is everywhere. It’s like a big skating ring, and Sooner says it’s gonna snow, too.”

Momentarily diverted, Marisa patted the dog’s head. “Sooner?” she repeated.

“Yeah, he’s part German shepherd and we don’t know what else, and Daddy named him Sooner ’cause he’d sooner eat and sleep than do anything else.” Ellie gave the dog a big hug. “Daddy, Sooner says he’s not going back outside ’cause it’s too cold.”

“Ellie, that dog does not talk.”

“Does, too.” Ellie pouted. “You just can’t hear him.”

“Ellie.” There was a note of warning in Colter’s voice. “We’ve been through this before. Sooner does not talk.”

Marisa didn’t understand how Colter could be so harsh. Lots of kids had imaginary friends, especially the lonely ones like her. She’d talked to a doll when she was about Ellie’s age, and she’d outgrown it, as would Ellie. She could offer Colter some reassurance, but she knew it wouldn’t be welcomed.

Ellie wriggled onto Colter’s lap and put her arms around his neck. “Does your leg hurt, Daddy?”

“Naw,” Colter answered, kissing her cheek.

Clearly Colter had a good relationship with his daughter. She couldn’t help thinking that while she’d been lying in a New York clinic in labor with their child, he’d already married someone else, started a new life, a family. A pang of jealousy pierced her as she realized he’d gotten over her with remarkable ease.

She wondered about his marriage. Were he and Shannon separated? Divorced? She couldn’t imagine Shannon ever leaving Colter or their child. What had happened?

Ellie didn’t look much like Colter, she thought, but the green eyes were definitely his. They’d said her son’s eyes were blue. Most babies were born with blue eyes, though. Later, would he have had the Kincaid green eyes or— Stop it. Her son was dead.

It was time to let go of the memories. It was time….

Chapter Three

Marisa turned to leave and just then, the electricity went out, shrouding the house in darkness. Outside the light was fading and nightfall wasn’t far away. She should’ve left already.

“Oooh, Daddy, what’s happening?” Ellie curled closer against Colter.

“The storm’s probably taken down some power lines. The electricity’s been out before, remember?”

Ellie raised her head to look at him. “Yeah, and we lit candles. I’ll go get the candles.” She jumped off his lap and ran to the cabinet, opened drawers.

“Top drawer on the left, angelface,” Colter said, and Marisa noticed how gentle and reassuring he was.

He was a great father. She felt an ache deep inside her, in a private place kept only for her son, a son Colter would never know.

Tulley came into the room with a battery-operated radio, and Marisa switched her focus to him, unable to deal with all the emotions railing within her.

“The Dallas-Fort Worth area and Mesquite are under a weather advisory,” Tulley said. “Some places, like here, don’t have power, and people are being advised to stay off the roads because of the ice.”

Ellie plopped several candles on the table, then handed Colter a box of matches. He absently lit a couple, and Marisa could see he was absorbing Tulley’s news.

“I need to get back to Dallas,” she said.

Tulley shook his head. “Not tonight.”

Colter’s eyes darkened in the glow of the candlelight. “Are you sure?”

Tulley set the radio on the table and turned it on. Through the static they heard, “…Do not drive unless it’s an emergency. Road conditions are hazardous…” The warning faded away into silence.

“DADDY, aren’t you gonna light another candle?” Ellie piped up.

Colter stared into Marisa’s eyes, trying to accept that she was here for the duration, trying to accept that he had to deal with her presence and, above all, trying not to lose his temper.

Ellie tugged at his arm. “Daddy?”

“Uh.” His gaze swung to his daughter. “Okay.” He lit several more candles.

“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.