Her Christmas Cowboy Read online

  “Thank you,” she mumbled, “I’m very g-grateful.”

  “You’re also very cold. That’s a nice coat you’re wearing but not enough for this weather. Were you in the storm for very long?”

  “Uh-huh. I guess. It sure f-felt like it.”

  “I know it’s late, but I think you should take a hot bath,” he suggested. “It will help take the chill out.”

  “That would b-be amazing,” she stammered. “I f-feel like a rock of ice.”

  “Here, let me help you sit up. Drink some of this. It will warm you from the inside out.”

  Placing his arm around her shoulders he helped her lean against the headboard, then handed her the brandy snifter.

  “Slow sips,” he advised.

  “Okay, thanks, th-thanks so much.”

  “I’ll just be a minute,” he promised with a reassuring smile.

  Stepping into the bathroom he turned on the faucets, waiting until the hot water was flowing and he could gauge the temperature. Finally satisfied he ambled back to the bedroom and began searching through his dresser. He kept several changes of clothes in the cozy apartment, and finding a pair of fleecy pajamas and some thick woolly socks he laid them on the bed.

  “They’ll be much too big, but at least they’ll be warm. You can sleep in here, I’ll take the couch.”

  “I’m p-putting you out. I can sleep on-“

  “No arguments,” he said firmly. “I don’t know why you were wanderin’ around in the middle of the night in a horrendous snowstorm, but you’ve obviously been through a helluva night. You need sleep, then food, then we’ll take it from there. Okay?”

  “Yes, okay,” she meekly replied, taking another sip of the brandy, “but it’s Christmas tomorrow. You must have-“

  “Don’t worry about anything except takin’ that hot bath and curlin’ into bed for a good sleep,” he said warmly, then sitting back down, and not wanting to assume she remembered him, he added, “and I think it’s time for introductions. My name’s Connor McBride.”

  “Nice to meet you, Connor McBride. What a blessing you were home,” she murmured staring at him as if amazed at her luck.

  “I don’t live here here, I just stay here from time to time.”

  He wanted to tell her that he was the one that felt blessed, that he couldn’t believe she’d actually appeared, and he was incredulous that she had.

  “That Cognac is workin’,” he said instead. “You’re soundin’ better. Your teeth aren’t chatterin’ anymore.”

  “I still feel really cold and weak, but It’s warm in here, and you’re right, this drink is helping…a lot. I was just so frozen and so tired.”

  “I could tell,” he said softly.

  “My name’s April, April Sullivan.”

  “Hello, April Sullivan. I’m gonna go downstairs while you take your bath and make you some of my famous creamy cocoa. You make yourself at home.”

  “You’re so kind,” she murmured. “I don’t know what I would have done if your door hadn’t been open. I don’t think I would have had the strength to bang on it.”

  “It must have been fate,” he remarked, marveling not only that his sixth sense had been right and she’d shown up on Christmas Eve, but that he’d left his door unlocked. He was fastidious about security. “That tub should be full now. I’ll turn off the water and leave you to it, but before I go, don’t you have a purse? I didn’t see one when I found you.”

  “I dropped it, and it was so dark and I was so cold I didn’t want to stop and search for it so I just kept on walking.”

  “You poor thing,” he said, gazing at her white face. “Don’t worry, you’ll be safe here.”

  Her blue eyes were full of gratitude, and giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, he rose to his feet and walked from the room, closing the door behind him.

  “I’m livin’ a movie,” he muttered as he made his way down the stairs. “This is unbelievable. I wonder what the hell is goin’ on. That was a nice car those fella’s were drivin’, and she’s not some starvin’ orphan, that’s for sure.”

  Turning on the kitchen lights he put a small saucepan on the stove, poured in some half-and-half and cocoa, and stirring it with a wooden spoon he let it slowly heat. He would bring it to a simmer, pour it into a mug, then add a splash of Godiva Chocolate Liqueur and Vodka. Since she had already downed some Cognac he wouldn’t add much, just enough to add the sweetness and warmth.

  The tasty nighttime toddy ready, he turned off the lights, carried the large mug up the stairs and knocked on the bedroom door. There was no answer so he cracked it open and risked a peek. She was gone from the bed and the bathroom door was closed, so walking quickly across the room he left the mug on her nightstand, and grabbing a pillow and a couple of blankets from his closet he headed into the living room. As he pulled off his jeans he abruptly realized he’d been so caught up in the drama of the night he’d been shirtless the entire time.

  “Good Lord, you really are losin’ your mind,” he mumbled as he stretched out on the couch and flicked the blankets over him.

  As he slid down into the soft cushions he was overcome by a long yawn, but decided to leave the light burning until he was sure she was settled. A few minutes later he heard the water draining from the tub, and then, to his surprise, there was a soft knock on his door.

  “May I speak to you a minute?”

  Her voice was soft, almost childlike, baring no resemblance to the sharp, sassy girl who had sat at his bar a month before, bantering with him and driving him crazy with her kiss-me-now lips and sultry stare.

  “Of course, come on in.”

  She was wearing the oversized socks, but only the shirt of his pajamas. It fell to just above her knees, and she had rolled up the long sleeves in folds around her wrists. He thought she looked as sexy as hell, and he tried not to stare at the full, evident swell of her breasts.

  “Sorry to bother you,” she said quietly, standing in the doorway.

  “Trust me, you’re not botherin’ me, not one bit. How are you feelin’?”

  “My body is kind of achy, but so much better, and that cocoa, wow. You should bottle that. It’s delicious.”

  “Glad you liked it. Come on in. You don’t need to hover by the door,” he smiled. “What’s so important it can’t wait until mornin’? You need to get some rest.”

  “It’s just, uh…,” she said hesitantly, not accepting his invitation but staying where she was. “I don’t want to cause you any trouble. I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I wake up.”

  “Hmm. That doesn’t sound like a very good idea,” he said thoughtfully.

  “Honestly, I really-“

  “Let’s talk about all this in the clear light of day,” he said interrupting her. “Now you go on to bed.”

  “But you don’t understand. Those men, if they come back…”

  “If they, whoever they are, come back, they’ll find a sign on the door that says, closed. Tomorrow is Christmas Day, remember? Like I keep sayin’, you don’t need to worry. Now go on to bed and get some sleep,” he said firmly. “I’m wearin’ nothin’ but boxers under these blankets, and I really don’t wanna have to get up and hustle you back in there,” he grinned.

  “Oh, right, uh, okay,” she stammered, “thanks again, really. Thanks.”

  He watched step backwards and close the door, but not before he spied a bright red blush cross her face.

  “Damn, you’re about as cute as girl could be,” he muttered, reaching behind his head and turning out the lamp. “What the hell sent you out into a night like this? HILL. Why do I know that? I guess I’ll find out soon enough.”

  With the fury of the storm swirling around him he closed his eyes, and as he began to drift off a soft smile crossed his lips. When he’d told her to go to bed his gentle authority had come naturally, and she’d responded in a way that had touched his heart. Knowing she was asleep between his sheets was sending a unique comfort through his being. It was as if she belonged
there.

  In an odd way it was similar to the way he felt at Lance’s ranch. He was at home around the horses and livestock in his cowboy hat, and jeans and boots. His sister used to tell him he’d been a cowboy in another life. He almost believed it. Regardless, it was who he was, and though he loved his bar and was grateful for all it had provided him, he was determined to have his ranch, and though he barely knew her, he hoped the mystery girl called April would be at his side.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The following morning, after Connor had called his family to wish them a merry Christmas, he started to prepare breakfast, breaking eggs into a bowl for this raisin-cinnamon french toast.

  When he’d knocked gently on the bedroom door to see if April was awake he hadn’t been surprised at the lack of response. The poor girl had been wiped out, but when she did appear he would be ready to fix her something yummy to eat. He was due at Lance’s around two-o’clock, and it was fairly obvious whatever April’s plans might have been they were no more, and deciding to jump in with both feet he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called his friend.

  “Hey, Connor, Merry Christmas,” Lance said happily, answering the call.

  “Hey, Lance. Back at ya. How is everyone?”

  “The kids are runnin’ around like banshees, beggin’ us to let them open their presents. You know how we wait until after our dinner at this house.”

  “Such child abuse,” Connor laughed.

  “We let them have one each last night, but kids bein’ kids, give ‘em an inch and…!”

  “I’m sure. When are you gonna tell Izzy about her pony?”

  “One of the presents is a halter,” Lance replied dropping his voice. “I’m gonna make sure that’s the last box she gets.”

  “The other two are gonna be mighty jealous.”

  “Yep, but their turns will come and they know it. The puppy will help.”

  “You didn’t tell me anything about a new puppy! Don’t you have enough dogs around that place?”

  “You’d think so, right? It was Annabelle’s idea, but this one is gonna be a lapdog. It’s some kinda small breed cross. The dogs we have would rather be outside chasin’ rabbits than curled on up on the couch watchin’ the tube. Even when it’s nasty outside they’re runnin’ in and outta their doggy door like crazy.”

  “A puppy and a pony. This sounds like it’s gonna be a really fun Christmas,” Connor chuckled. “You’re a lucky guy, Lance. You have such a great family.”

  “Thanks, yeah, I love ‘em to bits. You still comin’ over around two?”

  “I am, but I had a dramatic night, or rather, early mornin’.”

  “Oh, yeah? What happened?”

  “Remember my mystery girl?” he asked, dropping his voice and poking his head around the door to make sure April wasn’t up and headed down the stairs.

  “How could I forget?”

  “She landed on my doorstep in the early hours of the mornin’, freezin’ cold and about to drop. Actually, she did drop. She was all huddled up on my floor.”

  “Damn! You’re kiddin’ me?”

  “Nope. I put her in a hot bath and my bed. She’s still sleepin’.”

  “You’re a fast worker!”

  “Not with me!” Connor quipped. “I just filled the tub and made her a mug of my famous cocoa.”

  “She was lucky landin’ on your doorstep. If there was ever a night made for that cocoa, last night was it.”

  “Yeah, for sure, but somethin’ else happened,” Connor said soberly. “A few minutes after I found her some guys drove up in a Range Rover lookin’ for her. Poor thing was scared outta her wits.”

  “Any idea who they were?”

  “None, and no way was I lettin’ ‘em in, but when I looked through the window I saw they were in a white Range Rover, and I got the last four letters of their plate. H-I-L-L. Hill.”

  “Ooh, shit,” Lance grunted.

  “What?”

  “That’ll be a car from the Churchill estate. They have a fleet and the plates are all the same, but with a number in front, like 2CCHILL, and 3CCHILL and so on.”

  Connor paused, trying to place the name.

  “You know,” Lance continued when he was met with the confused silence, “the Churchill family. The wealthy guy with five sons who lives in that huge house about thirty minutes east. He has a lotta clout around here.”

  “Oh, shit,” Connor muttered, repeating his friend’s sentiments, then taking a breath he added, “well, I don’t care who she was runnin’ from, she was terrified, and I’m happy for her to stay as long as she wants. I’ll help her, whatever she needs.”

  “You don’t wanna be messin’ with them,” Lance warned.

  “I’m not messin’ with anyone. I’m helpin’ out a damsel in distress, but now I know why that license plate rang a bell in my head. I must’ve seen it before. It kinda sticks in your head, but like I said, I don’t care. I’m gonna help the lady out.”

  “You know what you are,” Lance remarked, “the poster child for bein’ lassoed at first sight.”

  “I wish I could argue with you, but I can’t,” Connor replied. “I swear from the moment I saw her she knocked me out. You know what I was listenin’ to when I was sweepin’ up last night? This is gonna sound so cornball. Dammit! Now that I think about it I’m not sure I’m gonna tell you.”

  “May as well,” Lance said. “You know you will at some point.”

  “You’re right,” he sighed. “That Brad Paisley song, We Danced, and it wasn’t the first time. I’ve been wantin’ her to walk through that door every damn night since I met her, but I never thought it would happen like this!”

  “Oh, man, you’ve got it bad.”

  “No shit, and I don’t even know her.”

  “Gotta go. Annabelle’s callin’ me. Kids are drivin’ her batty.”

  “Before you take off, would you mind if I brought her with me this afternoon? I’m not gonna leave her alone here, especially not on Christmas Day.”

  “Sure, of course. The more the merrier. I just hope she likes total mayhem.”

  “I guess we’ll find out,” Connor chuckled. “I love it. I can’t wait.”

  As he was about to end the call Connor heard one of the girls yelling at her brother, accusing him of sneaking a look at a present under the tree, then his phone went quiet as Lance left to calm things down. Dropping it back in his pocket Connor poured himself a mug of coffee, then turned on the wall-mounted television.

  The morning show was full of Christmas, and the good news that the storm had passed and the day would be cold but with sun breaks. Poking his head out the kitchen door he saw his driveway would have to be shoveled, but it wasn’t bad, and stepping back inside he was surprised to find April standing by the stove. Her hair was brushed and hanging loose around her shoulders, and though she was wearing not a stitch of makeup, Connor thought she looked beautiful. His eyes quickly took in her clothes; black wool slacks over black high-heeled boots, and a fluffy, cream, v-necked sweater sporting a bright red and green gemstone tree brooch. Wherever she’d been the night before had been some kind of Christmas Eve gathering.

  “Good mornin’. How are you feelin’? Did you sleep well?”

  “I slept great,” she replied. “Your bed is really comfortable.”

  “It’s just a big block of dense foam,” he smiled. “When I was renovatin’, I decided rather than buy a bed I’d build that platform and buy the foam. I was penniless back then, but it worked out great.”

  “Aren’t you a clever cowboy,” she grinned.

  “You really do feel better. Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “You go on out into the dinin’ area and grab a table. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  “A clever cowboy and a cooking cowboy. I’m impressed. Do you mind if I stay here and watch, or better still, can I help?”

  “You can help by tellin’ me what you were doin’ running around in that storm last n
ight, and who it is you were runnin’ from.”

  “Oh,” she mumbled, the smile dropping away.

  “You don’t have to,” Connor said quickly.

  “It’s a long, gory, boring story,” she said a frown, “but I’ll try to make it quick. Let’s see, I was a guest in someone’s house, left in a car a tiny bit tipsy and a lot scared, it slid on the road, I got stuck in a ditch, and I figured this person would probably come after me so I didn’t want to hang around. Then I remembered this place and I thought it was just a short walk from where I’d gotten stuck, but it wasn’t, it was forever, and that’s about it.”

  “You thought I’d be open at two in the mornin’?”

  “My brain was panicking so I wasn’t thinking straight,” she said hastily. “I have no idea how far I walked, how long I was out there. At one point I remember thinking I was walking in the wrong direction and I almost turned around. Thank goodness I didn’t.”

  “You were probably a bit delirious,” Connor murmured sympathetically, imagining her terrified and fighting her way through the storm.

  “Sorry for being such a nuisance.”

  “You’re not a nuisance, not one bit,” he said, starting the french toast. “Would you like some coffee? There’s plenty in the pot.”

  “I would love some. Thanks.”

  As Connor watched her walk across the kitchen and pour herself a mug, he couldn’t help but notice the fullness of her breasts under the sweater, and her wonderfully curvaceous backside. She had a soft sensuousness about her, and when she turned and smiled at him, he was consumed with the desire to take her in his arms and kiss her languidly for a very long time.

  “A penny?” she said, breaking into his salacious thoughts.

  “You look very lovely this morning.”

  “I do? But I have absolutely no makeup on.”

  “You don’t need any, and I’m serious,” he said quietly. “You have a truly natural beauty.”

  “Gee, thank you,” she murmured. “That’s such a lovely thing to say.”

  He saw a soft pink blush cross her face as her crystal blue eyes caught his, and for the flash of a moment he felt almost hypnotized. Pulling away his gaze he turned his attention back to his cooking, and a few minutes later he was plating the french toast and placing the dishes on a tray.