Harlequin American Romance November 2014 Box Set: The SEAL's Holiday Babies\The Texan's Christmas\Cowboy for Hire\The Cowboy's Christmas Gift (28 page)

But even though she knew better than to let herself fall for him, was she growing dangerously dependent on him? During her brief panic attack at the hospital, Daniel had been the person she'd wanted to comfort her—the only person she'd wanted.
You're smarter than this, Nic.
If anyone should be good at insulating her emotions so that she didn't get hurt when it was time to say goodbye, it was the girl who'd lived in a parade of foster homes.

She'd understood the rules between her and Daniel since before he'd asked her to his house for dinner.

Have fun. Store up memories for long, lonely nights ahead. But do not get attached.

* * *

D
RIED
OFF
AND
once again wearing street clothes, Daniel was ready to leave the Roughneck. He thought about taking the long way around the outside of the house so that he didn't interrupt the women inside, but, technically, the party hadn't started yet. And he couldn't resist saying goodbye to Nicole.

When Julieta saw him in the kitchen, she narrowed her eyes in a mock-stern expression. “I'm guarding the food while Anna cleans up and changes clothes. We figured we were safe once I chased Brock and Alex out of the house, but if your hand reaches for anything on this kitchen island, prepare to get snapped with a dish towel.”

He laughed. “I have no designs on the food, I swear. I was about to head home.”

“All right then. See you Christmas Eve?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

He followed the sounds of female laughter into the spacious front living room.

Carly waved a finger at him when she saw him. “Hey, this is a no-man zone.” But she was smiling when she said it.

“I—”

From the foyer behind them, Brock's voice boomed. “Don't mind me. Got halfway there and realized I forgot my wall— What in the hell is
she
doing in my house?”

Daniel spun around in time to see his stepfather's face turn a mottled red with fury. He was glaring across the room at where Adele sat between Lizzie and Savannah.

Both sisters swung their gazes to Carly.

“I thought you talked to him!” Lizzie scolded.

“Julieta was going to help me find the right time,” Carly said. Her hands went to her hips, and she straightened, her tone defensive. “Fine, I've been procrastinating for a few days. That's nothing compared to the
years
he had to tell us that our mother had come back to see us and that
he sent her away.
But you'll notice how that never came up!” It was still a source of contention that Carly had discovered from an old family friend how Brock had never told his children he'd forbidden Adele any contact with them.

Adele paled, looking stricken by the hostility in the room. “Maybe I should—”

Daniel stepped forward, taking advantage of his position between Brock and the spirited, hot-tempered daughter who was so much like him. “Carly, you have a bridal shower starting in ten minutes. I'll help your dad find his wallet.”

“It's not lost,” Brock said as Daniel gripped his arm and marched him past the room.

“Semantics. The fact remains, this is a no-man zone.”

“It's my house!” Brock pulled away from him at the end of the hall. “And that woman isn't welcome under my roof. You weren't here when she left. You don't have the first damn clue what those kids—”

“Don't I?” Daniel snapped in a low tone. “Are you forgetting that my mom died? I know
exactly
what it's like to have your mother ripped away from you, one day there, the next day gone.”

The older man looked shamefaced but didn't back down. “That was different. Peggy, God rest her soul, died. She never would have abandoned you willingly. Delia made a conscious choice to walk away from little ones who needed her. Who cried for her for months.”

Brock shoved a hand through his hair. “I sure as hell couldn't fill the hole for them. Not any more than I could for you and Jacob after your mama's death. I excel at a great many things—rodeo, making money. But parenting...” He didn't meet Daniel's gaze as he stumbled through the halting words. “It's been pointed out to me repeatedly in the past year that I've...made mistakes.”

Daniel blinked, stunned. Brock Baron was not a man who easily admitted he was wrong. Maybe he could be reasoned with, after all.

“Don't let today turn into a mistake,” Daniel urged his stepfather. “I know how much you love Carly. Don't you want her to be happy?”

“Of course! I—”

“Well, it's important to her that her mother be part of the wedding celebration. You kept them apart once. If you've ever regretted that decision, now's your chance to atone. Don't try to keep them apart now. Carly and the others...they're adults. They have to make their own choices about the relationship they want with Adele.”

“Maybe. But when you have children of your own, you'll understand,” Brock said gruffly. “Adult or not, they are still my kids.”

They.
Not
you.
But that didn't matter right now. This wasn't about Daniel not feeling like a true part of the family, it was about repairing a rift between people he cared for. Maybe Nicole's compassion was rubbing off on him.

“Well.” Julieta stomped toward them, holding Brock's wallet out. “That was quite a spectacle you caused. Are you going to leave peacefully, or do I need to escort you to your truck?”

Daniel smothered a laugh. Julieta might be the only person on the planet who could make Brock look nervous. Thank God she had a big heart. He knew she would campaign for the Baron siblings to reunite with their mother.

“I'm going,” Brock said. He jerked his head in Daniel's direction. “This one already talked some sense into me.”

Julieta raised an eyebrow. “Did you, now? Then I take back what I said earlier about the dish towel. You've earned the right to sample some of the goodies in the kitchen.”

“I'm honored, but I'm just going to head out.” Food didn't sound that appealing. Although everything seemed to have been handled for now, residual tension knotted his stomach. Even when he'd seen Brock in the hospital, the man hadn't seemed as vulnerable as he had when he'd admitted that he hadn't known how to be there for his kids.

For years, Daniel had resented feeling like a second-class citizen and questioned whether his stepfather cared about him. But the situation had been complicated. Maybe Brock had cared and simply hadn't been good at expressing himself, how to reach out to two motherless boys and ease the loss they'd felt. Their brief, heated conversation in the hall had been unexpectedly candid. It was also the closest Daniel had ever felt to the man. A shame that, if Daniel moved to Colorado, there wouldn't be many opportunities to develop that bond further.

Chapter Eleven

As Daniel stood outside the front door of the Roughneck, eyeing the wreath that was almost as tall as his nephew, it occurred to him that one of the advantages of rodeo life had been frequent travel, which afforded easy excuses. Everyone had understood if he missed a birthday party or Brock and Julieta's anniversary when he was on the road. But it was much harder to manufacture a reason not to come to the house for Christmas Eve dinner now that the biggest demands on his time were physical rehab and sending out résumés. He hadn't been to the ranch since that unexpectedly emotional confrontation with Brock and he felt almost...nervous about the family gathering tonight.

The door swung open, and Anna greeted him with a pink-cheeked smile. He wondered affectionately if she'd already had a glass of the infamous eggnog, which Jet had dubbed the “pa-Rum-pa-Rum-Rum.” “Come on in! Everyone else is here already. Well, except your brother, of course.”

Jacob and Mariana weren't due back from Austin until tomorrow. The house was full of noise—happy squeals of children hoping Santa would visit tonight, the whirr of some kitchen appliance, Travis and Luke laughing at something Jet had said in the adjoining room. With all the extra people under the roof this year, it was the biggest Christmas Eve in Baron history. And, for a staggering second, Daniel felt completely isolated. Without his big brother to help bridge the gap, he felt even more disconnected from his stepsiblings than usual.

When Peggy had still been alive, she'd established the tradition of serving Christmas Eve dinner in the late afternoon rather than at night. That way, there was plenty of time to attend the local church's nativity play and still get the kids in bed early so Santa could visit. Daniel could scarcely imagine the amount of pre-Christmas-morning assembly required on gifts for six children. With Alex only five, and his cousins even younger than that, the tradition of an early supper and early bedtimes still worked well today. By the time they finished eating, it probably wouldn't even be dark outside.

Maybe part of the reason Daniel felt so restless was that he was antsy for night to fall. Nicole, who'd spent the night last night, was coming over later so they could have their own Christmas Eve celebration. He knew she was coming out to the ranch tomorrow with Adele, but Christmas at the Roughneck would be a madhouse. It would be next to impossible to steal much private time with her, and they had only a few days left.

“Hey.” Carly approached, surprising him with a hug. “Thanks for the other day. That could have gotten really ugly if you hadn't been there.”

“You're welcome. You're giving me too much credit though. Lizzie or Julieta would have stepped in.”

“Probably,” she agreed. “But whatever you said to Daddy... Well, he won't be founding an Adele Black Fan Club anytime soon, but he's making an effort. He even said that, if I wanted, she could sit in the front pew at the wedding with him and Julieta. I owe you.”

He was still bemused by her praise when Lizzie came up a few minutes later, echoing her sister's words.

And a few minutes after that, Jet nudged him in the side. “You saved my neck, bro. I never would have invited Adele to come over for Christmas if I'd realized Carly still hadn't squared away her presence with Dad. That could have been painfully awkward.”

Daniel couldn't help a wry laugh. “You weren't there for the shower encounter. It
was
painfully awkward. And loud.”

“Well, that's our family. We Barons don't do anything halfway, right? Come on, let's get you a drink.”

As it got closer to time to eat, Julieta began assigning orders. She instructed Travis and Luke to move some extra chairs to the table and asked Alex to get the butter dish out of the refrigerator. Savannah was in charge of stirring gravy on the stove, so forth and so on. Daniel felt a little useless waiting for an assignment. He thought about just taking the initiative to jump in and help, but experience with that many Barons in the kitchen had taught him that sometimes what one person thought of assistance was another person's definition of getting in the way.

“If you need me to do anything,” he called to Julieta, “my shoulder's a lot better. Sierra says she's impressed with my progress.”

Brock stepped up to him, swirling a scotch and soda around in his highball glass. “Glad to hear it. And what does your physical therapist say about when you can start riding again?” He glanced away, then met Daniel's gaze. “Maybe I don't say it enough, but you do a damn fine job in the rodeo ring. Always been proud of your standings.”

Daniel winced inwardly. Now that he'd decided to give up rodeo, he wouldn't be able to use that particular subject to connect with his stepfather.

“But you want to pick it up again nice and easy,” Brock advised. “Log plenty of time in the practice ring before you get too ambitious.”

“Actually...” He swallowed. “I'm not planning to go back to rodeo.”

Would Brock be confused? Annoyed? Rodeo was in the Baron blood.
Which doesn't actually flow through your veins.

Instead, the man took a deep breath, then nodded, his expression pensive. “Is that why I got a call from Chuck Bowlan? Seems someone asked him about a reference for you.” Brock was a powerful man who had a vast network of business contacts and former rodeo buddies that spanned the state.

Daniel nodded. “I'm looking for something more concrete than sporadic horse training.” He could continue investing in rodeo stock and splitting the profits with his friends, but that wasn't enough to keep him busy. “I was planning to tell everyone after Christmas and Carly's wedding that I'm looking. But nothing's happened yet. I haven't interviewed or received any offers.”

“Well—” Brock peered over the rim of his glass, carefully evaluating Daniel “—when you do start interviewing, offers will follow. Any ranch would be lucky to have you. You have a rare understanding of horses and a strong work ethic. Now that you've matured and aren't such a damn hothead, you're a real asset.”

“Thanks.” Daniel grinned. As far as Christmas Eve compliments went, it wasn't terribly sentimental, but Brock's statement had been accurate. Daniel
was
more levelheaded now. He tried to be pragmatic and detached, not letting emotion goad him into mistakes the way it had during his adolescence. He was very controlled.

And that's why you've been fidgeting like a three-year-old hopped up on sugar cookies and espresso, counting the seconds until you can get out of here and be with Nicole?
Maybe his pragmatic discipline didn't extend to her.

He'd actually had an insane moment yesterday where he'd thought about asking if she'd ever seen Colorado and inviting her to go with him on his interview trip, even though she had details she was still wrapping up on her wind farm project and this visit would involve two flights in two days. It had dawned on him that appropriate stocking stuffers for a woman one was casually seeing included scented lotions or gift cards to bookstores—not plane tickets. The problem was, where Nicole was concerned, his feelings grew less casual with every passing day.

* * *

“I
CAN
'
T
BELIEVE
you got a tree!”

Daniel bobbed his head in modest acknowledgment as if it was no big deal, but he'd known she would love it.

“I was here just yesterday,” Nicole pointed out. “I can't believe you were able to find one on Christmas Eve.”

For her, he would have chopped one down if necessary. “Actually, it turns out that if you wait until the day before Christmas, you can get a pretty sweet sales price on the remaining inventory. But since I got a tree in your honor, it's only fair that you help me decorate it. I retrieved those when I was at the ranch this afternoon.” He indicated the boxes sitting against the far wall of his living room.

The boxes contained some of his mother's things, including her favorite Christmas keepsakes and ornaments that he and Jacob had made for her when they were kids. Maybe sometime after Christmas, he and Jacob could go through the boxes together and divide the contents equally. For now, Daniel had simply wanted to hang some decorations for his celebration with Nicole.

She walked over to the boxes and knelt down to remove a lid. Amid the more elegant jewel-toned glass balls were a Styrofoam horseshoe decorated in uneven clumps of glitter and a frame made of spray-painted macaroni that held a picture of him as a buck-toothed seven-year-old.

Her breath caught. “These were your mom's?”

“Well, someone should be using them, right?” He swallowed, remembering his mom's smile, the vanilla-scented perfume she'd favored and the way she'd insisted on a round of Christmas hugs before anyone was allowed to open a gift. “She loved them, and they've just been sitting neglected in an attic for years. You know I'm not really one for decorating my place at Christmas, but...I wanted to share these with you.”

She came to him, threading her fingers through his hair and kissing him softly. His body responded with instant need. They'd made love last night and again this morning before she left. He shouldn't be this hungry for her, but the more they were together, the more he wanted. She gently scraped her teeth across the side of his neck, then kissed her way down to the collar of his shirt.

He groaned. “Okay, forget the tree, then.” Clasping her hand, he took a step toward his bedroom.

“Wait, no.” She stood her ground, although the expression in her gaze told him she wanted him every bit as much as he craved her. “You went to the trouble to do this nice surprise for me, and I'm ruining it.”

Her skewed summary startled a bark of laughter from him. “Yeah. I hate when a beautiful woman wants to make love to me. Nothing ruins Christmas faster than that.”

She grinned. “Then prepare to have your Christmas thoroughly and enthusiastically ruined. But,
after
we finish this.”

He let her return to the boxes, enjoying her good mood. She pulled out a clump of white and red construction paper pieces that had been glued together in a shape generously described as a candy cane. Daniel's name was scrawled on one side of the ornament in crayon.

“Wow.” Her eyes sparkled. “If you hadn't become a badass cowboy, you might have had a real career in art.”

He started to tease her back, to make a retort about how no one's second-grade artwork was perfect and how he was sure she had some peppermint skeletons in her closet, too. But then it occurred to him that she probably didn't. Who had held on to Nicole's keepsakes over the years? Report cards, watercolor paintings, small family knickknacks that were meant to be hers someday?

Recalling how out of place and anxious to leave he'd felt at the Christmas Eve dinner made him a little ashamed. What would Nicole have given for a holiday like that? He vowed that tomorrow, no matter how much of a madhouse it was and what familial drama might occur when Brock and Adele were in the same room, he would make the day special for Nicole.

When she caught him staring at her, he said, “My mom would have really liked you.”

“Thank you.” As her smile faded, she bit her lip. “I'm not sure my mother has the capacity to like anyone. How can you if you don't have the foundation of liking yourself first? It's taken me a lot of years not to take it personally that her self-loathing was stronger than her love for me.” She shook her head. “But I'm not wasting any of our Christmas Eve together being sad! Can I give you your presents now?” She bounced on the balls of her feet, looking as excited as Rosie or Alex or Cody about the idea of gifts.

“Presents, plural? Careful, you're gonna spoil me.”

“Be right back.” Then she was out the front door, and he watched her pull a large red gift bag out of the car. When she came back inside, he saw that she also had a much smaller package tucked under her arm. He opened the kitchen drawer where he'd hidden a tiny box earlier in the day.

They sat on the couch together. Nicole tucked her feet under her, beaming at him. “Open the big one first,” she instructed.

“Okay.” He tore aside the tape and curling ribbon. As he dug through a thin layer of gold tissue paper, it became clear he was unwrapping a blanket of some kind. There was dark fringe around the edges and some kind of picture emblazoned across it, but he had to stand up and shake out the tapestry-style blanket to get a clear look.

A yellow-eyed owl stood on a tree branch glaring back at him.

Nicole gave him a solemn look, placing a hand over her heart. “Isn't it time to start the healing?” she deadpanned.

He arched an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “You're a very mean person.”

“You have to bring the blanket to the ranch tomorrow. Jacob will want to see it,” she predicted.

“You're both very mean people.”

She handed him the smaller box. “Here, maybe this will help make up for my cruel streak.”

Inside he found a CD. The plastic case had several signatures scrawled across it in silver marker. It was an album from that indie band out of Austin that they both liked.

“I pulled some strings and got you an autographed copy of their next album. It doesn't go on sale for another week and a half.”

“This is perfect.” He knew instinctively that he'd think of her whenever he was listening to the songs. The memories would be bittersweet. “Thank you. Now your turn.”

She looked surprised by the obvious jewelry box but made a joke, keeping her tone light. “Is it a pony?” All the teasing went out of her expression when she lifted the sterling silver necklace out of the box. Hanging from the chain was a heart pendant; linked inside the larger heart were two smaller, rose-gold hearts.

“To symbolize you and the babies,” he said awkwardly. When he'd seen it in a display window, he'd known immediately that she had to have it.