A Christmas Miracle for Daisy (Taming of the Sheenans Book 5) (11 page)

Whitney did not date a lot, and when she did, she struggled forming new romantic relationships. She was just so cautious now. She didn’t just dive in headfirst anymore, but took her time—a
lot
of time—wanting to be sure they were truly compatible. However, very few relationships stood up to such close, critical inspection and Whitney would end it.

She’d told herself that she ended the relationships because they weren’t right, but maybe she was ending them because she was afraid of getting hurt.

Maybe she needed to take more risks…put her heart out there.

Because she did want more. What she said to Cormac in the bar was one hundred percent true. She did want a husband and children. Not necessarily now, today, but someday and she wasn’t going to find that husband if she kept hiding.

Or living in Cormac’s backyard.

*

Cormac was the
last to arrive at Trey and McKenna’s. Brock, Harley, the twins and the baby were already there. Troy and Taylor were there, too, and Taylor was obviously expecting, her pregnancy bump quite pronounced.

Cormac greeted his brothers, kissed his sisters-in-law, and did high fives and shoulder bumps with his niece and nephews.

Daisy had gravitated to thirteen-year-old Molly and was talking her ear off. Molly, thankfully, didn’t seem to mind.

“You have good kids,” Cormac said to Brock who was lounging against one of the kitchen counters while Harley, McKenna and Taylor organized dinner.

“Thank you,” he answered. “How are you doing?”

“All right.” Cormac took the cold beer Trey offered. “Glad to be here. It’s good to be back.”

McKenna glanced up from the oven where she’d just checked the temperature on the big roast. “You guys want to head into another room and give us girls some space?”

“Sure.” Trey shepherded them out of the kitchen, leading them to the family room where the fire was blazing. Brock sat down in one of the leather armchairs but Trey, Troy and Cormac all remained standing.

“How is that teacher doing? The one that was shot at Daisy’s school?” Troy asked.

“Still in the hospital, but she’s stable,” Cormac answered.

“And Daisy? How is she?”

“She’s had those nightmares I was telling you about, but otherwise I think she’s okay.”

“Crazy world we live in,” Brock said quietly.

“Yeah,” Cormac agreed.

The sound of quarreling voices down the hall caught their attention and once Trey and Brock identified the voices as their boys, they left to settle the argument, leaving Cormac and Troy alone.

For a moment the only sound was the crackle and pop of the fire.

“How about you?” Troy asked, breaking the silence. “You okay, too? Because you look beat. I haven’t seen you this rough in a long time.”

Cormac rubbed at his eyes. “I am tired. It’s been hectic trying to get the company here, and Daisy here, and get the house done and the new office ready. It’s a lot.”

“You bit off a lot when you agreed to raise Daisy on your own.”

“It was hard in the beginning but we’ve bonded now. Can’t imagine life without her.”

“What about your ex-girlfriend…Daisy’s godmother? Is she in the picture at all? Does she ever take Daisy so you can have a break?”

“Funny that you mention her.” Cormac took a quick swig of beer. “She’s actually here in Marietta right now. She’s been here all week.”

Troy was surprised. “You guys back together?”

“No. She’s here to get the publishing group settled and spend some time with Daisy. I think they’re going to do a weekly date while she’s here, but no, we’re not together. She’s seeing someone and I’m…I’m too busy to even think about dating.”

Troy gave him a thoughtful look. “You’ve never been serious about anyone since you guys split up.”

Cormac wanted to deny it but Troy was right. Cormac hadn’t seen anyone seriously in almost four years. He shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “You know me. I’m all about the work.”

*

Daisy was quiet
on the drive back to the Graff Hotel after dinner with Cormac’s brothers and their families at Trey’s house. Daisy had gotten quite a bit of attention at dinner, but she was worn out now.

Reaching Front Street, he parked his white four-wheel drive SUV in the lot across from the hotel, and opened the door to the back seat. “Hey, kiddo,” he said. “Tired?”

She nodded, lids heavy.

“We’ll be in bed in no time,” he said, lifting her from the car booster seat. Daisy’s head went straight to his shoulder, her arms circling his neck, holding him tightly.

She was wearing a coat but he held her close as an icy gust of wind blew through the parking lot. Marietta and its sister city Livingston, just 10 miles north, were famous for the westerly wind whipping through the valley, punishing the rural towns. The wind would be even colder and stronger in the thick of winter thanks to the air streaming from Yellowstone. Daisy, raised the past two years in the Mediterranean climate of San Clemente, California was not used to the frigid temperatures here.

Walking across the parking lot, he wrapped his arm more snugly around her, doing his best to block the next blast of wind. She shivered against his chest, the top of her head tucked against his neck.

She’d been a little trooper today. It had been a long day for her, and she’d handled all the driving and flying and playing so well. Two years ago she couldn’t have been dropped off at Trey and McKenna’s. Two years ago she was clingy and tearful and scared…

He hated remembering those early days when she was suddenly his, and he hadn’t known how to comfort her, not when she cried for her mother night after night. It had gutted him telling Daisy over and over that her parents were in heaven now. It had been the worst thing he’d ever had to do, and he’d done it for months…

It had been a relief when she’d stopped asking so frequently, and he’d felt guilty for being relieved that she’d stopped talking about them, and so he started bringing them up, introducing them in prayers at bedtime, and during grace at dinner. He found photos of them and put them in frames by her bed. Even made ornaments with their faces for their Christmas tree last year.

And just when he thought they’d made it through the worst, Daisy began asking about the godmother who sent her birthday and Christmas gifts. The godmother named Whitney…

It was never going to be easy being Daisy’s new father, was it?

He wasn’t the kind of man who was natural father material, either, and he was learning everything the hard way. It was the kind of learning where you understood the lesson only after it was too late.

Despite an evening with three of his brothers—or maybe because of it—Cormac felt unusually low as he crossed the street from the parking lot to the hotel.

His brothers all seemed so happy with their wives and lives. Cormac had told himself that he would never be able to do that…get married and settle down. But now he envied them. They didn’t just marry a lover. They each married their best friend.

Cormac didn’t really have a best friend. He was a loner. He worked, and then he went home to Daisy, and he wasn’t complaining. He loved Daisy. But maybe his world would feel a little more complete…a little more balanced—

No. Knock it off
, he told himself. You’re just tired. You need sleep. Tomorrow you’ll see the world differently.

And he did need sleep. Daisy did, too. He was hoping she wouldn’t have nightmares tonight because they could both use some serious Z’s.

He would have been happier in his house but he couldn’t really complain about staying at the Graff, not when he’d been given the owner’s suite.

The doorman held the door open for Cormac. “She’s sound asleep, isn’t she?” the doorman said.

Cormac glanced down at her face, and yes her eyes were closed, her breathing even. She was out. “It’s been a long day,” he said.

“You have a good night.”

“You, too,” Cormac replied, stepping through the hotel’s big glass doors.

The Graff’s history was Marietta’s history. The town had been founded as a mining community but when the copper vein proved to be much smaller than expected and the big miners moved on, either returning to Butte, or heading on West, only a few smaller businesses were left.

Gradually, ranching and farming replaced the mining and Marietta survived, but it had never been a particularly prosperous town. The wealthiest in the area were the big ranching families like the Carrigans and the Sheenans.

Crossing the hotel lobby, Cormac eyed the Christmas tree glowing with white lights. The huge fir—had to be at least twenty feet tall—was covered with shimmering glass ornaments and wide velvet ribbon. With the hotel lights slightly dimmed for the evening, the tree took center stage. It smelled even better than it looked, and he breathed in the fresh scent, amazed that one tree could make an entire lobby smell so fresh.

More velvet-wrapped greenery swagged over the tall windows and wide doorways. Wreaths now hung in the center of each window. He wasn’t at all ready for Christmas, but he knew Daisy would be enchanted in the morning by the tree and decorations. She loved Christmas. She hadn’t been able to stop talking about how she got to fly to Montana with the real Santa Claus.

Trey and Troy had been amused at dinner by Daisy’s insistence that the old man in flannel and khakis had been the real Santa, too. When six-year-old TJ asked her how did she knew he was the real Santa, she gave her cousin a quelling look. “I just knew,” she said icily.

“A woman’s intuition,” Troy said drily, earning him an elbow from Taylor.

“Is never wrong,” McKenna chimed in sweetly, clearing the dessert plates from their huckleberry and blackberry crisp.

They’d all laughed, but Daisy was indignant.
He was the real Santa. He was!

Now, riding up in the elevator, Cormac kissed the top of her head. He loved her fierceness, as well as her imagination. All he wanted to do was protect her and give her the secure future she deserved. But it was definitely proving even harder than he’d imagined.

At his door he once again gently shifted Daisy in his arms, this time so that he could dig in his back pocket to retrieve his wallet where he’d stashed his hotel room key. He was still trying to fish the wallet out when the elevator doors opened and a slender woman with long medium brown hair stepped into the hall.

Whitney.

He felt a rush of pleasure and was about to say her name when she flipped her hair back and he suddenly realized it wasn’t Whitney. Just a young woman with long hair and a similar build.

She smiled at Cormac as she passed, her expression friendly, even openly admiring, and while she was pretty, actually very pretty, he didn’t feel any attraction.

If anything, he was disappointed, and that stab of disappointment was like acid in his gut.

There was no way they could mix the personal with the business now. They’d been through too much to ever go there again. He might still be attracted to Whitney, but she was off limits. She had a boyfriend. Her home was in Denver. They had both clearly moved on.

*

Whitney was just
returning to the Graff from dinner at the Chinese restaurant on Front Street when she spotted Cormac entering the hotel with Daisy in his arms.