The Cowboy's Christmas Lullaby Read online

  “I wouldn’t say that. You’re not boring me.” Oh my, she sounded like a teenager instead of a thirty-three-year-old mother, she thought. Clearing her throat, she added, “I’m sure you and Rafe have plenty of exciting stories to tell. Were you with him and Bowie when the stallion got loose and ran off into the mountains?”

  Surprise arched one of his brows. “You know about that?”

  She nodded. “Lilly and Ava told me all about it. Rafe was black-and-blue from the spill he took when his horse fell.”

  “I was helping with the hunt,” he said. “But I wasn’t riding in the area where Rafe fell. We were fortunate that only Rafe got hurt that night. The weather turned really nasty with snow and ice.”

  “I don’t understand you ranchers. You’re always wanting lots of snow to put moisture and nitrates into the ground, but doesn’t that make terrible conditions for the cattle?”

  “If the snow gets too deep it causes problems. Or if we have blizzard conditions. The worst case is when calves are being born in that sort of weather. We try to see that all of them make it. Unfortunately, we lose a few. Those are the times when the ranch hands might get an hour or two of sleep each night.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think I could bear seeing a baby animal of any kind struggle.”

  He looked straight at her, and Marcella found her gaze traveling over his chiseled features. Once they’d come into the house, he’d removed the black cowboy hat from his head. Now as the dim glow of a shaded lamp cast an orb of light over him, she noticed the thick wave falling over his forehead was the color of dark chocolate. The kind that was supposed to be good for your health, she thought wryly. She figured Denver would be just as tasty as a piece of dark chocolate. But good for her health? No, in her opinion, he looked like a massive heartache.

  “I’m sure you see people struggling in the ER,” he said. “Animals are no different. They need help, and we cowboys do our best to give it to them. Just like you nurses do for people.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of it in that way. But you’re right. Except that we nurses get to work under the best conditions,” she reasoned. “You ranchers are dealing with the raw elements.”

  She felt a tug on her arm and glanced around to see Harry holding up the television remote. “The movie is over, Mom, and the stuff showing now is no good. Would you change the channel?”

  “Excuse me,” she said to Denver, then turned her attention to finding some sort of program to hold the boys’ attention. After a moment, she parked the channel on a child-appropriate sitcom. “There. That’s the best I can do.”

  “Aw, Mom, that’s goofy stuff for girls,” Peter complained.

  “Yeah,” Harry seconded his brother. “We want to see cops and car chases.”

  “Yeah,” Peter chimed in. “Or spaceships and laser fights.”

  “Sorry, boys. Take it or leave it,” Marcella said firmly.

  A pout came over Peter’s face and he looked to Denver for support. “I’ll bet when you were a kid you got to watch good stuff. Not boring stuff like giggling girls.”

  Marcella watched Denver glance her way, before he turned his attention to Peter.

  “Actually, I never watched much TV,” he said.

  “You didn’t?” Harry asked, clearly mystified by the rancher’s statement. “What did you do? Play computer games?”

  Denver chuckled and Marcella was struck by the sound. It was rich and warm and so pleasant she wished she could hear it again.

  “No,” he answered Harry. “Back when I was your age, we didn’t have a computer at home. Or smartphones. Sometimes, when I went to town, I’d play video games with my friends.”

  “You didn’t live in town?” Peter asked. “Where did you live? Here?”

  He shook his head, and though Marcella knew she should scold the boys for asking personal questions, she was just as curious as they were about their unexpected rescuer.

  “No. I lived on a ranch in Wyoming with my parents. I mostly stayed busy helping my dad with ranching chores. When I wasn’t doing that, I was riding horses or doing my homework.”

  “Homework. Ugh!” Peter complained. “Nobody but bookworms likes that stuff.”

  “Nobody wants to be dumb,” Denver reasoned. “And you need to do your homework to get smarter.”

  “Me and Harry don’t have a dad,” Harry said with a shrug. “We just have Mom. She plays baseball with us. But she doesn’t know all that much about boy things. Like fishing. Do you know how to fish—for trout?”

  “I’ve done a little fishing. Not much.”

  Peter scooted to the edge of the couch. “I don’t want to learn how to fish. I want to learn how to ride a horse and run really fast! As fast as the wind!”

  Harry looked at his brother and rolled his eyes as though he was eons older rather than a mere eight months. “You’re just saying that because of Mr. Yates. Yesterday you said you wanted to be a doctor.”

  Peter’s head tilted from side to side in contemplation. “I still do. I wanta make people well, like Mom does. But I can do that and ride a horse, too. Can’t I, Denver?”

  He exchanged a knowing glance with Marcella before he answered Peter’s question. “Sure. Doctors can ride horses, too. So can people who fish for trout.”

  Harry thought about that for a moment, then said, “Yeah, I guess it would be fun to run fast. As long as I didn’t fall off.”

  Marcella said, “You have to learn how to walk the horse before you run it. I’m sure Mr. Yates didn’t run the first pony he got on.”

  Denver chuckled again and the sound came as a relief to Marcella. Maybe she and the boys weren’t getting on his nerves too badly. The idea had her studying him from beneath her lashes and wondering things she shouldn’t be wondering. Like why he wasn’t married. And why he had no children of his own. A man like him would have no trouble finding a woman who’d be more than willing to give him a family.

  Maybe he’d already tried marriage and had gotten a divorce, Marcella silently contemplated. Or could be some woman had soured him on love and put him off the idea of marriage. Or perhaps he simply wanted to keep his freedom. Whatever the reason for his bachelorhood, Denver’s personal life was none of her business.

  “I was a baby when my dad put me on a pony,” Denver spoke up. “So I don’t remember the occasion. But I can assure you there wasn’t any galloping done that day.”

  “Orin told us ghost stories,” Harry said. “One was about Little Joe the wrangler who was trampled in a stampede. He said his ghost rides the hills and the desert flats. Have you ever seen him?”

  “A few times,” Denver said, then tossed her a sly smile.

  Marcella felt as enthralled by this man as her sons seemed to be, which should have made her feel foolish, but it didn’t. Tonight was a party night for fun, and it had been a long, long time since she’d spent a few enjoyable moments in a man’s company.

  “Really?” she asked impishly.

  “Cross my heart,” he said with feigned seriousness. “He wears a black-oiled duster and rides a white horse.”

  Peter jumped to his feet with excitement. “That’s right! And the horse’s mane and tail looks like flames! When did you see him? At night?”

  “Usually at night. But once, some of the ranch hands and I saw him in the late afternoon riding through a patch of Joshua trees. A big storm had blown up and turned the sky dark. Lightning was flashing everywhere and jumping like streaks of blue fire off the horns of the cattle. The herd stampeded and we raced our horses after them.”

  “What happened?”

  The question came from both boys, and as Marcella studied their mesmerized faces, she couldn’t help but dream and wish that she could give them the father they needed and deserved. Her mother was constantly harping for her to date, to make an effort to f
ind a man willing to marry her and be a father to her sons. But Marcella didn’t want a marriage of convenience. She wanted love. For herself and her boys. They deserved nothing less.

  Denver said, “The cattle were running straight toward a deep gorge and going so fast we couldn’t catch up. They were all going to fall over the cliff and die. Then suddenly out of nowhere Little Joe appeared from the black, boiling clouds. His white horse was so fast it was a blur in the wind and they turned the herd just in time.”

  “Wow! That must’ve been cool!” Peter exclaimed.

  “What happened then?” Harry asked. “Did you see Little Joe up close?”

  Denver shook his head. “By the time we reached the gorge, he was gone. But we thought we heard the sound of his horse’s hooves echoing down in the canyon. It gave us all the shivers.”

  “That’s awesome!” Harry spoke in a breathless rush, then turned an excited look on his mother. “Mom, did you hear that? Mr. Yates saw a ghost! A real ghost!”

  “Well, I’m sure Mr. Yates has seen a lot of...strange things out on the range,” she reasoned.

  “Tell us some more, Mr. Yates,” Harry pleaded. “Orin told us about a headless prospector and he walks around with a pickax. Have you seen him?”

  “Boys, that’s enough for now. Mr. Yates has had a long day. And—”

  Before she could finish, Denver’s cell phone rang. Marcella and the boys went quiet while he answered the call.

  Once he tapped the face of his phone to end the conversation, he looked over at Marcella. “The mechanic is finished with your car. So if you and the boys are ready, I’ll drive you back to it.”

  When the car had gone kaput, she’d been thinking of the endless chores she needed to get done at home and lamenting the time that was going to be wasted waiting on a mechanic to repair it. Now all she could think was that she wasn’t quite ready to leave Denver’s company.

  “Oh, Mom, do we have to go right now?” Harry asked.

  Peter quickly seconded his brother’s suggestion. “Yeah, Mom, do we? We want to talk to Mr. Yates some more.”

  Forcing herself to her feet, she motioned for the two boys to join her. “Sorry, fellas. It’s getting late and we’ve already interrupted Mr. Yates’s evening enough. Come on. Pull on your jackets and gather up your empty soda cans.”

  Less than ten minutes later, the boys were loaded in the backseat of the car. She’d filled out the necessary forms for the repair cost, and the mechanic had driven away.

  Now as she stood outside the driver’s door with Denver less than two steps away, she’d never felt so awkward or deflated in her life. An hour ago, she was desperate to get home. Now she was reluctant for her time with this man to end. It made no sense. None at all.

  “There’s no way I can begin to explain how much I appreciate your help,” she told him. “And thank you for being so patient with Harry and Peter. I imagine tomorrow your ears will still be ringing.”

  With a wry smile, he shook his head. “Not at all. I enjoyed their company. It made me remember back to when I was that age.”

  She said, “You might not believe this, but they don’t normally have such motormouths. Especially with a person they’ve just met. They like you.”

  “I’m honored.”

  She hadn’t expected him to say anything close to that. But then everything about him and this evening had caught her off guard.

  “Well, I’d better be going.”

  She extended her hand to him, but instead of shaking it, he wrapped both hands around hers. The contact felt incredibly intimate, and for a moment she wondered if she’d forgotten how to breathe.

  “Goodbye, Marcella. It was nice meeting you and your sons. Have a safe trip home.”

  It was nice meeting her, she thought, but not nice enough to ask for her phone number, or mention he might like seeing her again. The notion filled her with disappointment, but she wasn’t about to let it show. Instead, she gave him the cheeriest smile she could muster.

  “Thanks, Denver. And you be careful to watch out for Little Joe,” she teased. “You know Halloween is actually tomorrow night. He and that white horse might be on the prowl.”

  He grinned. “Right. I’ll keep my eye out.”

  “Goodbye,” she said, then slipping her hand from his, she quickly turned and climbed into the car.

  Once she’d shut the door and fastened her seat belt, she didn’t allow herself to glance at him through the window. Instead, she drove away and tried her best not to notice the lights of his truck reflecting in her rearview mirror.

  Chapter Three

  A week later, Marcella was nearing the close of her Friday shift in the ER when fellow nurse and friend Paige Winters walked up behind her.

  “Dr. Sherman is being his usual nasty self again,” she said with a weary sigh. “Thank goodness our shift is nearly over. He can take out the rest of his sour attitude on the next crew of nurses instead of us—or me, I should say. The man has had the evil eye on me ever since I came to work in the ER. I’d give anything to slap that smirk of his right off his face.”

  “Including your job?” Marcella asked as she yanked a soiled sheet from an empty bed.

  “Well, no. I love my job here at Tahoe General too much to let one moody doctor ruin it.”

  Marcella tossed the dirty sheet into a nearby hamper, then turned to see that the other nurse had already started fitting a clean sheet on the just-stripped mattress.

  Paige was a year or two younger than Marcella, and though she was a natural redhead, like her, Paige’s shoulder-length hair was a deep wine color that contrasted vividly with her pale gray eyes. She was an extremely hardworking, dedicated nurse, and Marcella had often hoped that the other woman would find a man to love her. She deserved that much from life and more.

  From the opposite side of the narrow bed, Marcella said in a hushed voice, “Dr. Sherman isn’t giving you the evil eye. He’s giving you the eye. Period.”

  A fiery blush spread across Paige’s cheeks. “I am so tired of everyone hinting that Dr. Sherman has the hots for me,” she muttered. “The man is as cold as an ice cube. He wouldn’t know what to do with a woman if she fell right into his arms!”

  “Nurse Winters! I need you down here! Pronto!”

  The sound of Dr. Sherman’s bellow from the opposite side of the treatment room put a tight grimace on Paige’s face.

  “See? He’s a jerk in a lab coat. And not nearly as good-looking as Dr. Whitehorse, who’s been giving you the eye for months now.”

  The other woman hurried away, making it impossible for Marcella to deflect Paige’s remark about Dr. Whitehorse. Sure, the man was young and handsome and nice. She liked him as a friend, but he just didn’t make her heart go pitter-patter. Not the way that darned cowboy up on the Silver Horn had done.

  Denver Yates. This past week she’d thought of little else. And the fact that Harry and Peter kept bringing up his name didn’t help matters at all. From the remarks they made, she could tell both of them expected to see Denver again. Preferably in the near future. And she hadn’t had the heart to burst their bubble. Neither of them would understand that enduring friendships rarely grew out of chance meetings.

  You need to forget the cowboy, Marcella. He probably has a girlfriend. And even if he doesn’t, he’d hardly be interested in a mother with two kids. Wake up! A hunky man like Denver can have his pick of women. You can bet he’s already put you and your sons in the very back of his mind.

  Doing her best to shove the miserable voice out of her head, she finished the last few minutes of her shift, exchanging patient information with the fresh group of nurses. By the time she’d changed clothes and headed out to the parking lot to her car, seven o’clock had turned into seven forty-five.

  She was climbing into her car when she heard the cel
l phone inside her purse ringing. The caller was most likely her mother, she thought wearily, wondering why she hadn’t yet been by to pick up the boys. After twelve years of Marcella working long, erratic shifts as a nurse, her mother still didn’t understand her schedule would never be predictable.

  After starting the car, she pulled out the phone and was surprised to see it had been Lilly Calhoun ringing, rather than her mother. Since her friend never called just to chat, Marcella decided to take a minute to return the call. If something had happened on the ranch, she wanted to know about it.

  “Hi, Marcella,” Lilly answered cheerfully. “Sorry to bother you at this hour. Are you home from work yet?”

  “No. I’m still in the parking lot. Is anything wrong?”

  “No. Everything is great. I’ll just keep you a minute. I wanted to ask if you’re free tomorrow night. I’d like for you to come to a little dinner party I’m having.”

  Marcella frowned. “Dinner party? Lilly, I was just out to the ranch last week at your Halloween party.”

  “So? That was mainly for the kids. This is just for us adults.”

  So that meant she’d have to tell Harry and Peter she was going to the Silver Horn without them. That would definitely cause a fuss. But on the other hand, Marcella was entitled to an evening out on her own once in a while.

  “Is this some sort of special event? Someone’s birthday?” Marcella asked.

  “Nothing special. There will only be a few of us. The men are getting together to talk business and Ava and I don’t want to be bored to death. You can at least entertain us with hospital news.”

  “I am off tomorrow,” Marcella said thoughtfully. “And it would be nice to have some adult conversation. I’m not sure what Mom will say about watching the boys. If she’s planning on a bingo night, forget it.”

  “Don’t worry. If Saundra can’t watch the boys, then bring them with you. Tessa will be keeping all the kids upstairs in the playroom. She won’t mind watching Harry and Peter, too.”

  Rafe and Lilly had a young daughter and son, while Ava and Bowie’s baby boy was only a few months old. Tessa would have her hands full without adding Harry and Peter to the mix.