A Cowboy's Christmas Reunion

She couldn’t look away. And she really needed to look away. He might not be grappling with memories, with need and want, but she sure as hell was.

“Come on, Josie. Live a little,” Fisher added.

She should say no, but Hunter had found her weakness. A new book... Wouldn’t that be something? Not that anyone knew she was in the midst of the longest creative drought of her career. That’s why she was considering the teaching position in New Mexico. She wanted to feel inspired again.

Maybe working on the float could help. At this point, it couldn’t hurt. Her career, anyway.

“So?” Eli’s question ended her tortured introspection.

“Yes.” She smiled at Eli as she spoke. “Thanks, Eli. I mean, it’s nice to feel special for my stories.” Don’t ask. Don’t ask. But she did. “Did you ever read them?” Thinking about Amy reading her stories to Eli made her stomach twist.

Eli looked at his dad. “Dad used to read me 34 and Floppy Feet all the time.”

Fisher snorted. “Hey, hey, now. I’ve read the cow one—”

“It’s called 34,” Hunter answered.

“Right, 34.” Fisher nodded at his brother. “A time or two, Eli.”

Eli grinned at his uncle.

Josie risked another glance at Hunter, but he was staring into the fire with a small smile on his face.

“That reminds me, Josie, Annabeth called from the elementary school earlier. She wants you to do a story time there.” Her father spoke up.

“I’d love that.” She smiled. Other than her father, Annabeth was the only one in Stonewall Crossing she’d kept in touch with after she’d left.

Hunter looked at her, his voice soft as he said, “The kids would, too, Jo.”

Jo. For an instant she wanted him to grab her and kiss her, just as he used to. When he’d kissed her, nothing else mattered. She nodded, staring into his eyes wordlessly.

“We should go, Dad. I’ve got a math test Monday morning.” Eli stood up. “Thanks for helping us out...Miss Stephens.”

She turned away from Hunter and beamed at the boy. “You really can call me Josie, Eli, please. I don’t like feeling old.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He barely glanced at her, his answering smile forced. “Thanks for the breakfast this morning, Mr. Stephens.”

“How’d you do?” her father asked.

“Eli got a one at the stock show.” Hunter smiled at his son, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He’s been working real hard with Bob, his steer. And the judges could tell.”

It was clear Hunter was a devoted father, just as she’d always known he’d be. Something hard settled in the pit of her stomach, a hollow, empty ache.

“I wasn’t the only one.” Eli’s cheeks were red. “Now there’s nothing big until after Christmas.”

“Time to get ready for the next one.” Her father winked at the boy. “You should be proud, Eli.”

“Thank you, sir.” Eli nodded and headed for the door.

“Don’t get up,” Josie said to her dad.

“Now, Josie—” her father started to argue.

“Dad.” She held her hand up.

“We know the way out. Don’t get Jo all worked up.” Hunter shook her father’s hand. “Have a good evening, Carl. Thanks for having us over.”

Her dad winked. “You’re welcome anytime, Hunter. You know that. You, too, Fisher.”

She knew her father cared for Hunter—he always had. After all, Hunter had been almost family. Her gut twisted. She led Hunter to the door, needing him to go—now.

“I know you’re a big-time author now, but I expect to see you some before you go.” Fisher hugged her again before following Eli out and into the truck.

Hunter lingered in the doorway. His gaze wandered over her face. “You and Carl want to come out to the ranch tomorrow? Have dinner with us? I’ve made a lot of changes.”

Josie stared at him, surprised. Did she want to go? No, she really didn’t. It would be awkward and painful. Us. She didn’t think she could handle seeing his family unit together, in a place she’d truly loved. Where Amy now lived. “I don’t—”

But her father interrupted her, loudly. “Sounds good.”

No, it doesn’t. It sounds like a nightmare. She mumbled, “Are you sure that’s okay?”

Hunter smiled that crooked smile. “It’s my home. Of course it’s okay. See you about six?”

She stood there, searching for some sort of excuse, while he climbed into his truck and drove away.

Chapter Two

Hunter didn’t say much on the drive back to the ranch. Fisher, who was never at a loss for words, kept Eli talking all things steers and Future Farmers of America. And Hunter was thankful for it. Spending time with Jo was harder than he’d expected. Leaving her was worse. If he could get her alone, if he could talk to her... What would he say? He was eleven years too late to apologize.

Fisher said good-night and headed to his place, leaving Eli to his homework and Hunter to his paperwork.

“I guess she is kinda pretty.” Eli sounded thoughtful.

“Who?” Hunter looked at his son over his laptop.

“Josie.” Eli gazed at the homework spread out on the table all around him. He tapped his pencil on the table, then added, “I guess I sorta get it. But Mom’s prettier.”

Hunter looked at his son. “Your mom is beautiful, Eli.” Amy had always been pretty—to look at. But her beauty was skin-deep. Underneath was something else entirely.

No point being negative. Chances are she’d be coming through town for the holidays. Sometimes it went well, sometimes it didn’t. But he wanted his son to have a relationship with his mom, no matter how he felt about his ex-wife.

“So are you going to date her?”

Hunter looked at his son again. “What?”

“Are you going to date Josie?” Eli’s bright eyes challenged his father unflinchingly.

“No.” No matter how much he wanted to. “She’ll be heading back after the holidays, anyway.” He kept his voice neutral.

“If she wasn’t leaving, would you?” Eli’s gaze continued to burn into his.

Hunter studied his son for a long time. “Yes,” he answered truthfully. “But I don’t know if she’d want to date me, kid. It’s not that easy, you know?”

“Why?” His son’s eyes narrowed a little.

He hedged. “It’s just not. Women are...complicated.”

Eli sighed and looked back at his homework. “I know.”

Hunter stared at the top of his son’s head. “What does that mean?”

“Woman are complicated.” Eli was bright red when he looked at his father. “I asked Dara if she’d have lunch with us...at the county show.”

Hunter bit back his smile. “Did she say no?”

Eli shook his head, then shrugged. “She didn’t say anything.”

“You should ask her again. You might have surprised her. What did you say?”

“I don’t know.” He paused, thinking. “Something like, ‘Have lunch with me at the next show.’”

Hunter nodded, fighting the urge to laugh.

“She just stood there, staring at me.” Eli looked at his paper.

“Did you ask her or tell her?”

Eli tapped his pencil again. “I think I asked her.”

“Ask her again.”

Eli frowned at his paper, the pencil tapping faster. “It’s no big deal. I gotta get this done.”

“Need help?”

Eli shook his head.

Hunter sat, trying to stare at his computer. His son had his first crush and he didn’t know what to tell him. He thought Dara was a nice enough girl, but they were both so young. And shy. Eli had probably scared the shit out of her, at the very least surprised her. But Hunter knew better than to push. If Eli was done talking about it, then they were done talking about it. Eli had homework and so did he.

He had a good group of fourth-year vet students, partly because he was so hard on them. The semester might be winding down, but clinical rotations weren’t. Not like the patients disappeared because it was winter break. If his students didn’t like it, they could take a look at the long waiting list of eager candidates waiting for any open spot to remind them of how lucky they were to be there, working through the holidays.

He leaned back in his chair, propped his feet up and logged on to the University of East Texas website, then the College of Veterinary Medicine intranet to access his files. He had two classes of finals to grade and his caseload of patient files to review. His fourth-year students were doing most of the patient charting, but he had to check each and every note.

Most were spays and neuters. A couple of dogs with parvovirus. He glanced over their charts. Poor dogs had to be isolated and hooked up to an IV to keep hydrated. It was expensive to cure and messy to treat. All it took was one easy vaccination to prevent the whole thing.

He clicked ahead, skimming the fourth years’ notes. No errors so far. He closed those files, then opened Mars’s file. They were all getting attached to the sweet yellow Labrador. She’d been with them for two weeks now. Her owners had carried her in, bleeding and limp, after she’d been hit by a car. He hoped her paralysis was temporary, but the dog wasn’t improving the way he’d expected. They’d have to perform a cesarean soon. He didn’t have much hope for the three puppies she carried, but he prayed Mars survived. He added a note to schedule the surgery for next week and closed the file.

“Dad,” Eli said. “Did Uncle Fisher get the four-wheelers back?”

“Yes.” He glanced at his son. “But you’re not driving them.”

“Uncle Fisher would let me.” Eli frowned. “And Uncle Archer and Uncle Ryder would let me, too.”

“They might. But they’re not your father.” He nodded. “You’d best not bother them about it too much, or you’ll end up working this weekend.”

Eli smiled. “They wouldn’t make me do that. I’m their favorite nephew.”

“You’re their only nephew.” He chuckled.

“Harsh, Dad.” He laughed, too, then turned back to his homework.

“You’ll always be their favorite.” He worried about teasing his son sometimes.

“I know.” Eli arched an eyebrow, grinning.

Hunter shook his head, but he smiled. God, he loved his boy.

He was lucky—he knew it. He had a job he loved. The research he and his brothers had been doing on the ranch had led to a partnership with the state agricultural agency. Their hard work and dedication had made Boone Ranch one of the biggest conservation and rehabilitation sites in this part of the country. They’d had a plan, a good plan. And once Hunter had a plan, he stayed with it until the end.

Losing Jo hadn’t been part of the plan. And nothing had ever hurt like that.

Jo.

He fisted his hands, wishing he could stop wanting her, needing her. She was here, so close, yet still out of his reach. Seeing her now reminded him of everything he’d had and lost. Thinking about her wouldn’t bring her back, wouldn’t change what he’d done—

“Do you still love her, Dad?” Eli was looking at him.

He hadn’t realized that he wasn’t looking at his computer anymore. His gaze had wandered, and he’d been blindly staring out the window.

“I’m supposed to go to Tommy’s house tomorrow night. Remember?” Eli asked. “Don’t want to leave you alone if it’ll be...weird,” Eli finished.

Fisher had already told them he wouldn’t be coming, but he hadn’t offered up an explanation.

Hunter glanced at his son. “Guess it’s a good thing her dad’s coming for dinner, too.”

“Why?” Eli asked.

“Because when Jo and I are alone, we tend to fight.”

* * *

JOSIE WAS TIRED. And stressed. And tired of being stressed. And now she was getting a headache. Probably because she was heading to dinner with the love of her life and the only person she’d ever hated. Not hated...just actively disliked. That was why she’d made her father and Annabeth promise not to bring up anything to do with Amy. Or Hunter. She didn’t like who she was, how she felt, where Amy was concerned.

“Holy crap,” Josie breathed as she pulled through the huge stone entranceway, the intricate wrought-iron gate open wide. This was nothing like the Boone ranch she remembered. This was something else. She drove slowly, following the twisting limestone drive until she reached three outbuildings.

One was obviously a ranger station. It was elevated, with a two-story ladder the only way up. A small building sat next to it, a long ranch house of sorts with two large trucks parked beside it. Then there was the main building, several stories tall, all wood and native stone and rather impressive.

Almost as impressive as the man sitting on the porch. She sighed. Hunter sat, a laptop on his knees. He looked gorgeous—and a little bit dangerous to what remained of her heart.

She put the car in Park, trying not to stare as he smiled at her. He closed the laptop and walked down the steps to greet her.

The throbbing in her head was matched by the pounding of her heart. Whether it was from nerves or exhaustion, she didn’t know. But watching him walk to her car did little to calm her nerves. It was going to be a long night.

She rolled down the passenger window as he leaned forward to say, “Hi.”

“Hi.” She forced a smile. “Dad bailed at the last minute.” Which had led to a thirty-minute argument. At least Eli would be there as a buffer.

A strange look crossed Hunter’s face and then he smiled. “His hip giving him trouble?”

“Yes.” That’s what her father had told her, though she suspected he was trying to play matchmaker. Why her father was trying to fix her up with a married man was a mystery. After the hell her mother’s indiscretions had put him through, she’d expected him to place a little more value on the whole faithful vow thing. He’d always been on the eccentric side, but this was ridiculous. Hunter was off-limits, no if, ands or buts about it.

“Can you give me a ride?” he asked. “Or we can take some horses.”

“How much farther is the main house?” She let her eyes travel over the buildings again. “And why don’t I recognize any of this?”

His eyes traveled over her face. “Did you think you’d recognize it?”

“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I figured you’d made some changes, and you obviously have, but...”

“I didn’t own this when we... In high school this wasn’t part of the family ranch. We bought this about six years ago.” He paused.

“That makes sense. So, if I remember correctly, this must be the guest lodge?” She took it all in, impressed. “Am I right?” She waited for him to nod. “Well, wow, congratulations. Looks like your big plans are coming together.”

“Most of them.” He nodded, his eyes boring into hers. “So horses or driving?”

She looked down at her skirt. “Driving. Didn’t know horses were part of the evening.”

He opened the passenger door and climbed in. “Just stay on the drive to the left. It’s a ways down yet.”

She drove on, and her small red four-door rental seemed to shrink as the silence stretched on.

It was too quiet. The pounding in her head seemed to echo. “Too bad you didn’t have paved roads when you taught me to drive. Maybe I wouldn’t have totaled that truck.”

“You didn’t. That thing was like a tank.” He looked at her. “It wasn’t for a lack of trying, though.”

“I guess I should blame my teacher.” She flashed him a grin.

He chuckled. “Sure. If that makes you feel better about wrecking my granddad’s truck, you just go on telling yourself that.”

“God, I felt terrible.” She shook her head. “I still do.”

“Don’t. Still drive it back and forth around here when I need to run errands or deliver something. Imagine I’ll teach Eli to drive in it.” Hunter rested his head against the headrest.

As they crested the next hill, Josie saw the ranch house. It had always been a special place, where her most treasured memories took place. She was hit with a case of nerves so intense she almost turned the car around. Instead, she did what she always did when she was nervous. She talked.

“You’ve made a lot of improvements to the house. I knew you’d never tear it down, since your grandmother was born here.” She paused, but he didn’t say anything. “I guess it’s nice to have some privacy for you and your family. I mean, you haven’t said anything about the way the ranch works now, but I remember the way you said you wanted it to work. Population studies. Rehabilitation center. Animal preserve. Did you ever get the white-tail deer breeding program started?” Her head felt as if it had a band tightening around it. “Guess you’re keeping cattle, too, since Eli is raising a calf?” She stopped as the car pulled up in front of the house. Crippling anxiety gripped her, the throbbing pulse around her skull excruciating.

Any second Amy was going to walk out that front door. Any second Hunter was going to put his arm around Amy, his wife, and they were all going inside to have a meal together. Why had she come? She felt very nauseous.

“You okay?” he asked.

She looked at him, watching the traces of amusement turn into concern. “I’m not sure. I’m feeling a little...off.”

His forehead creased as he stared at her face. “You’re really pale.” His hand touched her cheeks and forehead. His touch felt so good. “But you feel cool. Let’s get you something to drink.”

He climbed out of the car and walked around to her side. He opened the door, but she was paralyzed with fear.

“Maybe I should go home. I feel weird about leaving Dad home alone.” Which was partly true.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “You can leave. Once there’s some color in your cheeks and you don’t look like you’re gonna pass out. Don’t think this car would take a beating the way Granddad’s truck did.”

She glared up at him. She pinched her cheeks, then smiled thinly. “There. Color in my cheeks.”

He laughed. “Don’t make me pick you up, Jo.”

She slipped from the car, grasping the roof for support.

They stood there, regarding each other in the warm rays of the setting sun. No one came out to greet them. Other than the faint coo of a dove, the moo of a distant cow and the slightly rhythmic whump of the windmill’s blades, it was quiet.

“Drink?” he asked. He held out his hand awkwardly.

She stared at it and pushed off her car, not taking it. “I think I can manage to walk to the door, Hunter. I’ll have my drink and hit the road and you can have a peaceful evening with the family.”

“Eli’s out.” He sounded amused. “Fish, Archer and Ryder all have places of their own. But Renata still lives with Dad so she can take care of him. She always was a daddy’s girl.”

Josie felt bile in her throat. He wanted her to sit through dinner with him and Amy? She felt angry suddenly.

“Don’t you think it might be a little awkward?” She turned toward him. “Okay, a lot awkward.”

“Why?” He looked genuinely surprised. “Why would being alone with me be awkward?”

Josie was distracted by the shift of emotions on his face. The tone of his voice was soft but coaxing. He seemed to take a step toward her, rattling her from her silence.

“Alone?” A full-fledged pounding began at the base of her skull. Shooting pain focused right behind her left eye.

He nodded. “Let’s get you inside. You can lie down, have your drink, and once you’re better, you can leave, if that’s what you want to do.”

“I should go now,” she argued. “Pretty sure it’s a migraine and once it gets started—”

“You’ll be down for the count.” He nodded, slipping his arm around her for support. “You’re not driving, Jo. It wouldn’t be right or gentlemanly.”

“You could be a gentleman and drive me home now.” She didn’t have the energy to argue, but she refused to lean into him.

“In a bit.” He swung her up into his arms.

“Hunter—” His name escaped on a startled breath, right before she was bombarded with his scent. Everything about him was familiar. The earthy spice of him, the strength of his arms, the warmth he exuded, the feel of his breath against her forehead. It was sweet torture. “I can walk,” she bit out, sitting rigidly in his arms. She would not relax. She would not melt in his arms and press herself to him. She would not kiss his neck or run her hands through his thick, dark blond hair. She would not think of doing those things, either.

He carried her into the house, ratcheting up her nerves. This was how she was going to see Amy? In his arms? Her whisper was urgent. “Please put me down.”

And he did. On the couch. “Sit,” he murmured before leaving the room.

“Bark bark,” she muttered childishly. Her gaze bounced around the room, searching, waiting.

He laughed. “You still do that?”

“You still order people around?” she snapped.

He left and then walked back with a glass of water and a bottle of pain pills. He sat on the coffee table opposite the couch, offering them to her.

She stared at him, deciding whether to take the offered answer to her pain or suffer through out of sheer stubbornness. She took the bottle and the water.

“Still get migraines?” he asked.

She shrugged, pouring a couple of pain relievers into her hand before putting the lid back on the bottle. “Sometimes.” She glanced at him. “Still have sneezing fits?”

“Sometimes.” He smiled. “Still painting? I mean, other than your illustrations.”

“Yes.” It was ironic that, even though she’d been desperate to leave the state of Texas and everything about it, Texas landscapes were one of her favorite things to paint. “Still write poetry?”

“No.” He stared down at her. “You wanna lie down? Eli’s room is a mess, but you can rest in mine if you want.”

Rest in his room? Amy’s room?

She shook her head. “No, thank you. If I lie here for a minute, will you let me leave?”

He stood over her, still smiling. “I’m not kidnapping you, Jo. You can go whenever you want to go. As long as you can make it all the way back into town with no problems.”

She sat up and felt instantly nauseous.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Stop being so stubborn and lie down.”

“I’m stubborn?” she snapped as she lay back on the cushions of the couch.

“Relax for a few. Dinner’s almost ready.” He winked at her. “The protein’ll do you some good.”

She pulled her gaze from him, shaking her head. “Where is everyone again?” Being alone with him wasn’t good for her. She didn’t like feeling so vulnerable, so needy. As a matter a fact, she was feeling way too much right now. Even with her pounding head, she was preoccupied with thoughts of being wrapped in his arms.

“Eli’s spending the night with a friend. My brothers have their own places. They’re probably off doing what grown men do.” Hunter shrugged.

“That sounds...dangerous,” she muttered, waiting for the rest. But Hunter didn’t say a thing about Amy. She narrowed her eyes. He was going to make her ask, wasn’t he? She started to, but couldn’t. It had taken her a long time not to wince just thinking Amy’s name. She sure as hell wasn’t going to say it, out loud, here.

She’d turn up sooner or later—she always did.

“No interruptions. You rest. I’ll work. You can eat later and I’ll drive you home.”

She continued to glare at him, even as she lay back on the couch cushions. Her head was pounding, making her ears ring. She closed her eyes, trying to relax. But she couldn’t.

She was alone with Hunter. Just the two of them. She opened her eyes, looking for him.

The place had changed, but it still felt the same. The inside had obviously been gutted and redone. The walls were painted a warm cream with knotty wood trim. The ceiling was dark, with heavy exposed beams. The cast-iron wagon-wheel chandelier was the same. So was the wood-burning stove in the far corner.

But the room felt bigger—was bigger. The dining room was now part of this room—separated by a long brown leather sofa. On the far wall, beneath a huge picture window, was Hunter’s old-fashioned drafting table. Her mouth went dry at the memories that table stirred up.

They’d spent most of that morning bringing in the round hay bales in the tractor. Once they’d been left alone, she’d dragged him inside with obvious intentions. Her lips had fastened on his neck, tasting the salt of his sweat. When her lips suckled and nipped at his earlobe, he’d tugged her jeans off, tossing them hurriedly over his shoulder before grasping her hips and setting her onto the table. With his jeans around his ankles, he’d loved her hard and fast. How could she remember the feel of him, as though he was with her now?