A Cowboy for Christmas Page 14

  She thought about it, wanting to be completely honest. “Cautious, not afraid.”

  “Fair enough. But I’ve never lied to you, Abby. Not once. You’ve seen me angry, ugly, furious, despairing and ready to go to war. That’s the real, unexpurgated me. I can be volatile. I’m not always calm and measured. And today...I lost my common sense, as well. You’re not Stella. You couldn’t be Stella if you tried. If you’ve got a mean bone in your body, it still wouldn’t add up to all the mean bones in Stella’s. I should never have unleashed my anger with her at you.”

  “No,” she agreed. “But we already talked about this. I’m beginning to think we’re both full of minefields.”

  “Hot buttons, you said. I fear you may be right. I’d like to work on getting past them somehow. I happen to like you.”

  That warmed her a little. Unfortunately, she suspected she’d gone past liking with him. At least until that scene earlier. Now she felt confused and concerned. How did anyone get over all the scars life had left behind? She hadn’t a clue.

  “Well, I’m going to start practicing gut checks.”

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “Halt my tongue and reaction for a moment and ask myself what I’m really reacting to.”

  “You can do that?”

  “Yeah. And unless I’m half out of my mind with lack of sleep and worry, it usually works. It has to, or I’d have offended my way out of a job.”

  She pondered that for a few minutes. It sounded like a good idea, and she wondered if she’d be able to do it. Oh, keeping her mouth shut had become a habit since Porter, but keeping her emotions in check? How often had she retreated into a private maelstrom of feelings and spent time arguing with herself? Apparently it didn’t help much.

  “You said,” she began cautiously, “that people always want something from you.”

  “Invariably, except for a few good friends. A lot of people see me as the road to something they want. It’s not surprising. When you’ve been blessed the way I have, other people would like to share a little of that. As long as they’re honest, I don’t mind.”

  “But they’re not always honest?”

  “The world is full of sycophants. They think if they stroke my ego enough, I’ll be so flattered I’ll do something for them. Pay their gambling debts, get them a recording contract, hire them as an opening act. Whole loads of things. And I get it. I just don’t like it when they’re not up-front about it.”

  She nodded, understanding insofar as she could. “But you help a lot of people?”

  “The ones I can. People helped me, after all.”

  “And some profited from you.”

  “That’s all part of it, isn’t it.” He sat up, unfolding his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. “There’s one big difference between us, Abby. I know people want things from me. You don’t believe anyone does or could want anything from you.”

  The words hit home hard. She faced the stark reality of just how much Porter had really gutted her. He’d killed her sense of self-worth so completely that she’d even avoided her girlfriends until just recently. Feeling like a drag, feeling like she had nothing to offer. Feeling that she was an object of pity and scorn.

  Was any of that even true?

  “Well,” he said when she remained silent, “we can’t solve this overnight. Just know that I wanted to spend the day making love with you, and instead I acted like an ass. Because of my own problems, not you. I can’t fix it. I just hope you can forgive me. And I don’t want to lose you. Yeah, I could get another housekeeper, but Regina would be upset, and frankly so would I. I like sharing this house with you. She just plain likes you, and whether or not you know it, you’re a good role model for her.”

  She felt flattered, but was still struggling to believe the nice things he said about her. The walls between them, she realized, were largely of her own building, and she didn’t quite know what to do about it.

  “I’m going up to bed,” he said, rising.

  “But you haven’t had dinner.”

  “I couldn’t eat to save my life. I’m wallowing in self-disgust here. Just let me.”

  All alone once again, she looked down the tunnel of her past and into the empty tunnel of her future.

  Was she going to try to break down those walls? Could she take the risk? Could she try to build something more positive?

  The wind howled but didn’t answer.

  Much later, after giving the dog a fresh bowl of water and a walk, she found herself climbing the stairs rather than going to her own apartment. She was facing her demons, she realized, and in a way that could buy her a lot of trouble. After this evening, maybe she deserved rejection, but she wasn’t sure she could survive it.

  She had something to prove to herself, that Porter hadn’t broken her forever. That she could reach for what she wanted, despite the way he had trashed her. Going for it had become imperative.

  She wanted Rory. He’d said he wanted her, too. If he was lying about it, she’d know for sure whether she was attractive to him. A rejection would probably send her to a convent or something, but she had to know. This issue needed to be settled. To hell with tomorrow, and long-term. She needed to know that she was indeed an attractive woman. That earlier hadn’t been a fluke. That now that he’d made love to her he wouldn’t be glad to forget her.

  The need to know terrified her and drove her all at the same time. She never would have imagined how much courage it took to climb those stairs as frightened as she was. But somewhere deep inside, she needed knowledge, and with any luck she’d never be afraid to reach out again.

  The dog came with her. She grabbed his scruff briefly for courage, then felt him lick her hand as if to tell her she wasn’t alone.

  Rory’s bedroom door stood open, surprising her, but all was dark within. Rally’s nails clicked a little on the wood floor and when they reached the door, she stopped. Rally didn’t.

  “Need a walk, boy?” she heard Rory ask sleepily.

  “I just walked him.”

  Silence. Then a rustle of bedding and a click as he turned on a lamp. “Abby? Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” Stupid answer. Anxiety was ripping through her, threatening to glue her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “Is it all right to want you?”

  He didn’t move immediately, suspending her somewhere between heaven and hell. Then he reached for the corner of the bedding and pulled back the sheet and comforter. She could see his bare chest, and the waistband of his flannel pants. “It’s okay. Climb in,” he said quietly.

  So she did, trembling from head to foot, her heart racing uncomfortably. She didn’t know what to do, what to say, but he asked nothing of her. She still wore her shirt and pants, which she’d have slept in, this cold night, and as she lay with her back to him, he pulled the covers over her.

  He surprised her by rolling onto his side and wrapping one arm around her. “Sleep,” he murmured. “You’ve got to be exhausted.”

  In his arms, surrounded by him, her fears evaporated and she stopped trembling. She felt inexplicably safe and sleep became the easiest thing in the world.

  * * *

  During the night, something changed. Abby popped her eyes open and saw the digital clock by the bed. Nearly 5:00 a.m. She felt a warm whisper on her neck and realized it must be Rory’s breath. She closed her eyes again, wishing she could stay like this forever.

  “Awake?” he murmured.

  “Just.”r />
  “Mmm.” His arm tightened around her waist and tugged her closer until she could feel his erection pressed to her bottom. “Ignore me,” he mumbled. “Can’t help what you do to me.”

  In that instant she felt as if her heart had taken wing. Wearing her sweats, she could do that to him? Maybe she wasn’t such a cow after all.

  “You feel so good,” he whispered.

  Oh, yeah, she did. Better than the first time she’d lain in his arms.

  “You feel good, too,” she whispered back.

  He continued to hold her, making no moves of any kind. After a bit, she thought he’d fallen back to sleep and gradually drowsiness overcame her again. The last two days had been hard, and neither of them had gotten anywhere near enough sleep. Secure and warm, she drifted away again.

  * * *

  Morning dawned with blinding sunlight. Abby woke as it struck her eyelids and she blinked, feeling as if she had forgotten what a bright day looked like.

  Rory still held her, but almost as soon as she recognized it, the phone rang.

  He groaned and rolled over, reaching for the set beside the bed. “Hi. Yeah, just woke. Okay. I love you, too.”

  “Regina?” she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

  “Yup. School’s closed but Nancy’s bringing her home in an hour or so. Time to face the day.”

  Abby immediately sat up, a kind of panic setting in. “I need to clean up, change sheets...”

  Rory chuckled quietly and pulled her back down, cupping her face between his hands. “In a minute,” he said, his face still soft from sleep. “First, though...” He kissed her, kissed her more deeply than he had before, his tongue tasting the inside of her mouth, immediately stoking the fire within her.

  “Rory...” she gasped his name when he finally lifted his head.

  “I know. I’ll change the bed. You go take a nice long shower.” He continued to cup her face, however, studying her. “Are we square?”

  “Square enough.” Although she wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that. A lot of the tension had left her when she’d climbed into his bed last night and been welcomed so easily. Welcomed chastely. Why that meant so much to her she’d have to puzzle out later. Right now she had to put things to rights so Regina wouldn’t be wondering what the two of them had been up to. There was nothing in what had happened that should trouble that girl in the least.

  And there probably never would be.

  She quickly drew his face down to give him a quick kiss, letting him know that for now it was all okay. She couldn’t look beyond that. Not yet.

  After a shower, she found Rory had already put his sheets in the laundry and replaced them with a fresh set. Before long, the two of them were eating a light breakfast of English muffins and eggs while they waited for Regina.

  She could feel the impatience in Rory. He’d missed his daughter.

  “Was there a reason she’s coming home?” Abby asked. “Didn’t Nancy say she’d keep the girls if school was closed?”

  “No, if the roads were bad. The woman’s had those two girls on her hands since Friday afternoon. Can you blame her for wanting to get back to normal?”

  “Actually, no.”

  He smiled crookedly. “I’ll be glad to get back to normal, too. Having her back again has reminded me how much I’d been missing her.”

  He rose to get himself more coffee and dropped a kiss on her head as he passed. A silly smile came to her face. How fast things could change.

  When Regina returned, Abby remained in the kitchen like a good housekeeper. She heard Rory talking to Nancy and couldn’t mistake Rally’s joy. It was so overwhelming he ran round and round the house while Regina laughed.

  Regina popped into the kitchen. “Hey, Abby.”

  “Hey, yourself. You’ve been missed.”

  Regina looked down at the grinning dog. “I can tell. He nearly knocked me over when I came in the house and he’s been running all over the place.”

  “I heard. Can I get you something?”

  Regina shook her head. “I’m not hungry this morning.”

  Abby felt a spark of concern. “Are you sick?”

  “I think I ate too much this weekend. Chips, soda, popcorn, chocolate.” She stuck her tongue out a bit. “I’m overdone. Come on, Rally, let’s go out back.”

  Abby heard Nancy leave, and a moment later Rory joined her. “Where’s Regina?”

  “Out back running Rally. Or maybe running herself. She said she ate too much over the weekend.”

  He nodded, but no smile lit his face.

  “Rory?”

  “Nancy said she thought Regina was acting a little off this morning. Maybe coming down with some kind of bug. That’s why she brought her back so early.”

  Again she felt that flicker of concern. “Well, how bad can it be if she’s out running the dog?”

  “Yeah.” He summoned a smile. “I worry too much.”

  She didn’t think so, but she didn’t tell him that. It seemed odd to her that a girl that age would be talking about having eaten too much food. It might be why she thought she was a little under the weather but at her age not very likely.

  She heard the back door open, heard the dog run happily down the hall, and a cold blast of air preceded Regina. She popped in, looking rosy from the cold and pulled out a chair to join them at the table.

  “Miss me?” she asked.

  “Like the dickens,” Rory answered, smiling.

  “Very much,” Abby said truthfully.

  “I missed you guys, too. So, Dad, about that horse...”

  Rory rolled his eyes and Regina giggled. “No horse, not right now. But keep bugging me. You never know when you may win.”

  Abby spoke lightly. “You could ride Rally.”

  Hearing his name, the dog gave a rare woof and wagged his tail mightily. Clearly everything was right in his universe again.

  Regina laughed then turned to her father. “Dad?”

  “I think that’s me.”

  The girl grinned at him. “So Betsy’s family is getting ready to decorate for Christmas. They were getting the boxes out while I was there. Do we have any decorations?”

  Rory looked flummoxed. “Uh...”

  “I didn’t think so. So Abby can take me shopping right after Thanksgiving? I want to decorate.”

  “If it’s okay by Abby...”

  “No problem,” she answered. “I’d enjoy that.” In fact, the idea really appealed to her.

  “Okay then. You gals do up the house. But there’s one thing I insist on.”

  Regina scowled. “What?”

  “That when it’s time to get the tree I’m going along, too.”

  Regina squealed and threw herself at him for a huge hug. “You’re the best. And Dad?”

  I think I already identified myself.”

  Regina giggled. “No, it’s something else. I wrote my first song.”

  He sat up a little straighter. “Really? What brought that on?”

  “Well, I kind of always wanted to. It’s like there’s this music running in my head a lot of the time.”

  He smiled and reached for his daughter’s hand. “I know all about that. Can I hear it?”

  “Not yet. I’m not completely happy with the words.” She turned to Abby. “I want you to help me with them.”

  “Me?” Abby was startled. “I don’t know anything about music.”

  “But you’re good wit
h words. You helped me with my English paper. And you mentioned you liked to write. So...”

  “But your dad writes lyrics all the time.”

  “This is a Christmas present for him,” Regina said, rolling her own eyes and looking so much like Rory for an instant that it was almost like having double vision.

  “Do I need to head for the barn?” Rory asked. “Am I cast out for a while?”

  A short while later, Regina did indeed banish him.

  “I was thinking about this over the weekend after my mother called,” Regina explained to Abby once Rory disappeared toward his barn studio. “Nobody does anything for him. Nobody makes him feel truly loved.”

  “You do,” Abby said gently, her heart aching.

  “That’s a kid thing. Of course I love my dad. But I want to give him something special, just for him. Something I didn’t buy in a store. Something special just from me.”

  “I get the feeling that just being you is special enough for him, but I understand what you’re saying. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, though.”

  “You can help me polish.”

  “I’ll try.”

  The sentiments in Regina’s lyrics were trite and juvenile. Of course they were. But as Rory had said, things became trite because they touched people. Plus, Regina was only ten. Mainly she needed help with meter and word choice to finish it off, a darling little poem about how a girl is always carried in her father’s heart, and there’s no safer place to be. Abby offered only minimal suggestions, because this was Regina’s gift to her father and she wanted that to shine through.

  But when Regina sat down at the piano to play the melody she’d created for the words, it all changed. A beautiful, brief, but haunting piece that touched Abby to her core. The girl was a born musician and she had a voice as pure as a flute.

  “That’s beautiful.” They both started as Rory spoke. “Don’t let me interrupt,” he said, his eyes shining suspiciously. “But that’s really beautiful, Regina.”

  “You weren’t supposed to hear it yet,” she said, but she beamed from ear to ear. “Merry Christmas, Daddy. Early.”