Lorraine Heath (18 page)

Her father had cheated as well—but it was always to his benefit … and she had yet to see Austin do anything that put him ahead at anyone else’s expense.

As night wore on, he carried each sleeping girl to the bed. Near midnight, a knock finally sounded on the door. Looking exhausted Houston stepped into the house.

“It’s a girl. Gracie.”

“How’s Amelia?” Austin asked.

“She had a hard time of it. Dr. Freeman says this will probably be the last one. Let me gather up the girls—”

“Why don’t you let them stay?” Loree said quietly. “They’re already asleep. I’ll bring them over in the morning.”

“If you’re sure?”

“We’re sure.”

“If Maggie turns up the lamp after you’ve gone to sleep, will you ignore it? I know she slipped into the house and got her journal earlier. She likes to write in it after everyone else is asleep. We’re not supposed to know.”

Austin patted his brother’s shoulder. “Go on. You look like you’re ready to collapse.”

Houston walked out the door. Austin turned to Loree. “Lie with me by the fire for a little while.”

He stretched out on the sofa, and she curled against his side, watching the flames dance within the hearth.

“I’m almost out of sugar,” Loree said quietly.

“I’ll pick up another ten pounds tomorrow.”

“I’m not that bad,” she said, knowing he was teasing her.

“You’re not bad at all.”

Silence wove around them. Reaching down, Austin splayed his fingers over her swollen stomach. “You’re tinier than Amelia.”

“My mother was tiny. She didn’t have any problems.”

“Dallas wanted to be a father. Houston wanted to be a father. It’s not that I don’t want to be a father, but the thought of this little fella coming into the world scares the hell out of me.”

“Scares me, too,” she admitted.

He wrapped his hand around hers. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Loree. I want you to know that I don’t consider this child to be one of them.”

She met his gaze, the love she held for him deepening. “I never thought that you did.”

A
ustin stood against the wall in Dallas’s dining area and watched the bustling activity with interest. Christmas had always been his favorite time of year.

Beside him, Loree jostled Gracie. Six weeks had passed since her birth, and it was evident that Houston had finally fathered a daughter who resembled him, with black hair and dark eyes. Austin enjoyed watching Loree care for the children.

He couldn’t remember what she thought their baby was going to be this week, but whether it was a boy or a girl, he wanted it to have the one thing he’d grown up without: the comfort of a mother. And he knew beyond a doubt that with Loree, his children would have the best.

“When is Uncle Cameron going to get here?” Maggie asked as she plucked a pecan out of a bright red bowl and popped it into her mouth.

Dee stilled, the dish of applesauce halfway to the table. She cast a furtive glance at Austin before answering. “He’s not going to celebrate Christmas with us this year.”

A look of horror swept over Maggie’s face. “But what about the special reindeer hay?”

Clearing her throat, Dee set the dish on the table between pumpkin pies and candles that smelled of einnamon. “I’m sure Santa Claus will come even if we don’t have the hay.”

“No, he won’t,” Maggie said as she crossed her arms over her chest and pushed out her lower lip.

“Somebody ought to tell her the truth: There ain’t no Santa Claus,” Rawley whispered beside Austin.

Austin watched Rawley saunter to Maggie and put his hand on her shoulder. He didn’t know if he could stand to watch the disappointment reshape Maggie’s face when she heard the truth.

“Hey, Brat, we could probably use some of the hay from the barn,” Rawley told her in a comforting voice.

Maggie wrinkled her nose. “It’s not reindeer hay. What if it gives them a belly ache?”

“Then we’d know for sure there’s a Santa Claus.”

Maggie laughed, her green eyes sparkling like the candles lit upon the evergreen tree that stood in the corner of the front parlor. Rawley shoved on her shoulder. “Come on. Maybe we can find some that’ll work.”

“Get your jackets,” Dee ordered as she headed back to the kitchen.

As they walked toward the door, Faith scrambled to her feet and raced after them. “Wawley, I wanna go, too.”

“Come on then, Shorty.”

She squealed as he swung her up into his arms.

“It’s a wonder that girl ever learned to walk,” Amelia said as she came to stand beside Austin. “The way her brother carts her around.”

He shifted his gaze and found Amelia studying him. “Don’t look at me like that,” he ordered.

“Like what?” she asked, her green eyes containing an innocence he didn’t believe.

“Like you know what I’m thinking. It’s damn aggravating when you do that, and you’ve done it for as long as I’ve known you. Hell, you probably figured out that I lied about Houston’s horse breaking its leg all those years ago.”

She smiled at him the way he supposed mothers smiled at their errant children. “I suspected it at the time.”

“Then why didn’t you say something back then?”

“Because I figured it was a dilemma you needed to work out for yourself—just like now.” She patted his shoulder before taking her daughter from Loree.

Austin spun on his heel and caught up with the children as they were shoving their arms into the sleeves of their coats. He opened the door and followed them outside, leaned against the veranda beam, and watched them trudge into the barn. The cold wind whipping around him felt warmer than his heart.

He heard the door open quietly and glanced over his shoulder. The woman had a way of walking into his life when he needed her the most. Reaching out, he grabbed Loree’s hand and pulled her against his side, her arms forming a cocoon around his chest.

“Special hay for reindeer.” He snorted. “Where did Cameron come up with that?” Although she held her silence while he stared at the barn, he felt her scrutinizing gaze delving clear into his soul.

“I love those children,” he finally managed to force past the knot that had risen in his throat. “I’d do anything for them.” He shifted his gaze to her, taking his time, needing to gauge her reaction in order to find the truth. “I won’t go into town and get Cameron and his family if it’ll hurt you to have them here.”

Warmth and reassurance caused the gold of her eyes to glisten like a miner’s treasure as she rose up on her toes. He dipped his head, welcoming the light brush of her lips over his.

“I’ll get your jacket,” she said, stepping away from him.

He drew her back into his arms, lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her like a man who had lived too long in the bowels of hell and was only just beginning to see a glimpse of heaven.

Standing on the second floor landing, Austin turned up the collar on his sheepskin jacket. Through the paned glass window, he saw the scraggly boughs of a tree that looked as though it might have been left over from a past Christmas—or brought in quickly to accommodate last minute plans.

Cameron had never celebrated Christmas at Dallas’s house before Austin had gone to prison, but he supposed since he was Dee’s brother, his family had welcomed him into their home after Austin left. He shoved his trembling, damp hands into his jacket pockets. He should have brought Loree with him. Sometimes he thought he could face anything if Loree stood beside him. What was it Houston had said to Amelia the day he married her? “With you by my side, I’m a better man than I’ve ever been alone.” Austin hadn’t understood the significance of the words at the time—but they were certainly beginning to make sense now.

Taking a deep breath, he pounded on the door. The heavy footsteps echoed on the other side. Cameron opened the door, and Austin watched as shock quickly gave way to concern.

“Has something happened to Dee?” Cameron asked.

“Nope. To Maggie.”

“Ah, Jesus. What do you need us to do?”

Austin turned away as memories swamped him, and the stinging in his eyes had little to do with the bitter wind. Cameron had been his first—his best—friend, the kind of man who had always put others before himself.

“Let me get the keys to the store and I’ll open it up. You can just take what you need—”

“I need reindeer hay.”

Cameron’s mouth fell open. “What? You said something had happened to Maggie.”

“Yep. She got her heart broke when she found out you weren’t coming with your special reindeer hay so pack up your family. I want to get back before dark.”

“You don’t need me. Just put some hay in burlap sacks and tell them it’s reindeer hay. I’ve got some sacks in the store that I can get for you.” Cameron turned to go back into the house.

“Not good enough,” Austin said. Cameron halted and glanced over his shoulder. “They think you’re the only one who can deliver special hay.”

“Look, Austin—”

“I figure you’ve got two choices. You can either come with me now or go with Dallas later because as soon as he sees the sad faces on those children—”

“Becky, pack up!” Cameron called out. “We’re going to spend Christmas with my sister.”

Austin chuckled low as Cameron disappeared into the house. It felt good after all this time to find something that had remained exactly the same over the years: Cameron was still scared to death of Dallas.

“Uncle Cameron, you came!” Maggie cried as she hopped up from the floor, spilling the bowl of popcorn she’d been threading. “Did you bring the reindeer hay?”

Standing in the doorway of the front parlor, Austin watched with interest as his family welcomed the visitors into their midst. Smiles grew bigger. Laughter erupted along with hugs and backslapping.

Wearing a wide grin, Dee strolled over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I know it was hard for you.”

He glanced at Loree as she greeted Becky with a warm smile and held a cookie out to Drew.

“You’ve got no idea,” Austin said roughly. “I need to unhitch the horses.”

He went outside, taking his time drawing the buggy into the barn and unhitching the horses. The wind howling through the cracks wasn’t strong enough to drown the sound of laughter he’d heard inside the house. He slapped each horse on the rump, sending it into the corral through the side door of the barn.

Twilight was closing in. Dallas would have a house full of people tonight. He wondered if he and Loree should head back to their own place rather than sleep in his old room with the new furniture as they’d planned.

“Are you all right?” a quiet voice asked from behind him.

Turning he smiled, took Loree’s hand, and drew her near. “I am now.”

Her cheeks took on a rosy hue as though she’d spent the afternoon sitting before a cozy fire. Suddenly he wished that they were home, sitting before the crackling hearth, wrapped around each other.

“Was the journey back awkward?” she asked.

He shrugged. “We didn’t talk. You would have thought we were heading for a funeral if Drew hadn’t been bouncing on the seat, singing ‘Jingle Bells’ the whole way.”

Her eyes widened. “Becky said he’s only eighteen months old. I think it’s impressive that he can sing a song—”

Austin shook his head. “Not a song. Only two words. Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells. Over and over. All the way here.”

“The children are so excited—” she began.

“Yeah. They sounded like a heard of stampeding wild horses when Cameron walked in.”

She placed her hand over his heart. “Even if they hadn’t come, this Christmas seems difficult for you.”

“The last Christmas I had here …” His voice trailed off as he shook his head. “It was so different. Dee had just lost the baby. Rawley had been living here for a couple of weeks, but he was still afraid.” He grazed his knuckles over her cheek and smiled. “The only niece I had was Maggie. It truly was a silent night. I have a feeling tonight will be anything but quiet.”

“My family died shortly after Christmas. I haven’t celebrated Christmas in the years since.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “Ah, Loree, I’m so sorry. I haven’t given any thought to what this time of year must mean to you.”

She tilted her head back and met his gaze. “It’s wonderful to have children around, snitching the candies and shaking presents.” Taking his hand, she placed it on her swollen stomach. “I’m glad to be here.”

“Ah, Sugar, I’m—” The movement beneath his hand halted his words. He gave his wife a warm slow smile. “Lord, I love it when he does that.”

His knees creaked as he hunkered down and placed his cheek against Loree’s stomach. She intertwined her fingers through his hair, and he realized that contentment existed in the smallest of moments. Suddenly it didn’t matter that he had never before celebrated Christmas with over half the people in his brother’s house.

What mattered was that he would be sharing the day with Loree and with a child that was not yet born.

“Uncle Austin!” Maggie staggered to a stop right after she rounded the corner of the stall. Her eyes turned into two big circles of green. “Can I listen?” She didn’t wait for an answer but hurried over, two burlap sacks clutched in one hand, and pressed her ear against Loree’s stomach. Austin glanced up to see Loree’s startled expression.

Maggie drew her brows together. “It don’t sound like a girl,” she announced.

“I reckon you’d be the one to know,” Austin said.

Maggie nodded her head enthusiastically, her blond curls bouncing. “Ma always lets me and Pa listen. Pa even talks to the baby before it’s born!”

“I don’t believe that,” Austin told her.

She jerked her head up and down. “He does so. I ‘member when he talked to me before I was born. He told me he loved me better than anything.” She thrust a burlap sack into his hand. “We need to get the reindeer hay put out. Come on!”

She raced out of the barn. Austin slowly unfolded his body and took his wife’s hand, escorting her outside.

“I cannot picture Houston making a fool of himself and talking to his wife’s belly,” Austin said.

“He was talking to the baby.”

Austin snapped his head around. “You say that like you think the baby could hear him.”

Loree shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

He glanced down at his wife’s rounded stomach. He’d feel silly talking to it. He met her gaze. “I’ll just wait until he’s born.”

He closed his fingers more firmly around hers as they approached the house. Giggling children were digging into burlap sacks and tossing hay over the yard, the veranda, and each other.

“Is there a trick to this?” he asked as he neared Dallas.

“Don’t put it in the hands of a three-year-old,” Dallas warned as he waited patiently while Faith carefully picked a single piece of straw from the pile he held in his hand. She bent down and placed it on the ground. Then she meticulously sifted through the straw in his hand, searching for another piece to her liking.

Austin cleared his throat. “You’ll be here all night.”

“Yep, and this ain’t the worst part. We gotta remember where they put all the damn hay so we can pick it up in the morning before they wake up.” He lifted a brow. “So they’ll think the dadgum reindeer ate it.”

Austin knelt beside his niece. She stilled, the straw pressed between her tiny forefinger and thumb, her brown eyes huge. He smiled broadly. “You want to put out my hay for the reindeer, too?”

She bobbed her head, took his sack, and held it up to her father. Dallas scowled and ground out his warning through his clenched teeth, “You just wait until next year.”

Austin threw back his head and laughed. God, it was good to be home … to know there would be a Christmas next year … and he would be here.

Breathless, Maggie rushed over, Rawley in her wake. “Uncle Dallas, can me and Rawley go put some on the balcony outside his room?”

“Sure.”

“Me, too,” Faith said as she held her arms out to Rawley.

He lifted her into his arms. “Get her bags, Brat.”

Maggie relieved Dallas of his burden and rushed after Rawley, her short legs unable to keep up with his long strides.

“She never seems to mind that he calls her a brat,” Loree said quietly. “Why does he call her that?”