A Cowboy's Christmas Promise (23 page)

“We're scheduled for dinner with Evelyn.” He made a face.

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Me, too. This has been a really fun afternoon. The girls will be talking about it for weeks.”

“Good. I'm glad.” She helped gather the last of the food. Did he detect a note of sadness in her voice?

“I'd invite you to join us—”

“No-o. Oh, no. Definitely no.”

“Did you want to think about that?” He chuckled at her adamant tone.

“I'm pretty sure I've already done you enough damage in the Evelyn department.”

“True.”

She whacked him playfully on the arm. “And there's where you should say something comforting, not agree with me. So…is she scheduled to go back to Denver at some point?”

“New Year's Day.”

“Ugh. She's not coming to Kyla's New Year's Eve party, is she?”

He sighed. “I don't think she'd dare at this point. Honestly, I wish I could conjure up a blizzard that would send her home early.”

“Could we work on that? Know anyone in weather?”

He laughed. “I wish.” He looked at the serene blue sky. “But believe it or not, they're watching a possible storm for tomorrow. Could get interesting.”

“Can they pause it for a day or two so you have time to get her on a plane first?”

“Again, I wish.” He looked at his watch again, then turned toward the meadow and signaled the girls with a long whistle. He looked back at Hayley to find her smiling and looking at his lips.

“I still want you to teach me how to whistle, you know. Reading it in a book just isn't the same.”

Gazing at her lush lips, teaching her to whistle was the last thing on his mind. Pulling her down into the snow and kissing her, however, was front and center. He cleared his throat, ripping his eyes from her mouth.

“I will totally teach you how to whistle, but I have to admit looking at your lips right now, whistling is the furthest thing from my mind.” He laughed as her cheeks flushed a dark pink. “You're blushing, Scampini.”

“Ha. Scampinis do not blush.”

“Y'know, for such an Italian, you look awfully Irish.”

Her patented invisible shades suddenly clouded her eyes. “Well…I might be. That's something I'll never know.”

Before he could answer, she was moving toward the girls, gathering them up to hoist them onto the horses. She motioned him to take the lead this time, and she waited for the girls to get started before she nudged Twinkle. Once they were moving down the trail, he looked back, but her face was thoughtful, unreadable.

He knew her mom had died, but he realized he'd never heard her speak of her father, and as he looked back once more, he wondered if she even knew who he was. Good God. Combined with a stepfather who'd shot off at dawn with her sisters in the backseat, it was no wonder the woman had commitment issues.

Was there a man in her life who'd ever stuck around?

Two hours later, after a dinner of dishes too fancy for the girls to stomach, Daniel sent them upstairs to play while he gathered plates and brought them into the kitchen. Dinner had started out fine, but after twenty minutes of hearing the girls gush about how much fun they'd had with Hayley all day, Evelyn had started to look like she wished she'd stayed at the hotel.

As he set dishes on the counter, Evelyn was at the sink, staring out the window. She turned to him, and he could see that her eyes were watery. “Who is this Hayley person?”

“She's a friend, Evelyn.”

“Is she the one who was here the other night? Because that looked a little more…friendly than someone who's
just a friend.
And I have to tell you, this house is still filled with pictures of Katie, and yet you're…entertaining another woman here after your children are asleep. I can't imagine what she would think. It's disrespectful to her memory.”

“She's not here, Evelyn.” His voice was heavy. “She hasn't been here for two long years now.”

“Well, what about the girls? What message is this sending them? That their mother is replaceable?”

He looked at her, formulating an answer. She was trying so, so hard to draw him out, make him defensive, make him angry—and she was so damn good at it.

“I would never do anything to disrespect Katie. I loved her more than life itself. You know that.”

“I'm not sure how to believe you, after what I saw the other night.”

Daniel looked up at the ceiling as it vibrated above them, the girls having put on their latest favorite Disney soundtrack. They started singing at the top of their lungs, and he drew a relieved breath that this time they couldn't hear anything from downstairs.

“Evelyn, I really don't want to discuss it with you.”

She huffed visibly, staring out the window again. Then she seemed to grow steel in her spine and frost in her voice as she dried her hands. “I was going to wait until later in the week for this, but it appears that there's no good reason to delay. I have some papers for you to look over.”

She stepped toward the table and pulled a manila envelope from her gigantic purse. “My attorneys have drafted a custody proposal. I know we don't necessarily agree yet on where the girls should live, but I've tried to be generous, as you'll see. The one thing I imagine we
do
agree on is that we don't want this to go to court.”

She took a breath, pausing like she was planning her next statement for maximum impact. “Katie wanted the girls to grow up in Denver. She wanted them to attend her school, play in her neighborhood, go to her church. She wanted them to have me and Patrick in their lives, Daniel. I'm just trying to honor her wishes. We're willing to pay for Southwick, and to have them with us. I don't think we can be any more generous than that. I'm sure you can see that.”

Her voice wavered. “I don't want this to go to court, either. It would be a terrible testament to our inability to come to an agreement here. Let's just keep this between us, and it doesn't have to get contentious. I'd hate for the girls to be called to the stand.”

Daniel stared at the envelope in her hand, taking a small measure of enjoyment out of the fact that it shook a little bit as he crossed his arms and refused to take it from her.

“Katie would have wanted her children to be raised by their father, Evelyn.”

“Not like this.” She waved her hands around the messy room.

“Yes, like this. Whether we are here, or in Anchorage, or Timbuktu, Katie would have wanted Gracie and Bryn to be with me.”

“But you're never here, Daniel. You're constantly getting called out, so they're shuttling between your mother and God knows who else all the time. How can you say that's best for them?” She shook her head. “I am just trying to help you here. Can't you see that?”

Daniel was silent for a long moment, seething, trying to control his temper. “I am busy, but I am by no means
never here.
They spend one night a week at their grandmother's house, and other than that, when they're not at school, they're with me. If I have an emergency and can't take them with me, Kyla and Decker love having them at Whisper Creek.”

“They spend half their lives in barns.”

“Yes, Evelyn, sometimes in barns. They
love
barns. They love animals. They love coming with me to
care
for the animals.”

As he spoke, he had the sneaking suspicion that anything he said right now was being catalogued, only to come back to haunt him later. He stared at her icy eyes until she finally broke his gaze, and then he reached out for the envelope.

“Let me see that.” He took the envelope and stalked into his office, where he dropped it into his industrial shredder without ever opening it.

“What—what are you doing?” Evelyn appeared in the doorway. “You didn't even look at our proposal.”

The pages made a satisfying sound as they crumpled into nothingness inside the shredder, but the sight of Evelyn's face was even more satisfying as her mouth gaped open.

“I don't need to. I am not entering into any custody agreement with you, Evelyn, especially one hand-engineered by your team of high-priced attorneys, outside the confines of the court system.”

“Fine. I was trying to be civil and keep this between us, but I can see that I'll just need to have my firm deal directly with your attorney. I didn't want this to go to court, but you're forcing the issue.”

“This will never go to court.” He spoke slowly, corralling his anger. “And if you're crazy enough to keep pursuing this,
my children
will never go to court. I won't let it happen.”

She raised her eyebrows haughtily. “You won't have a choice.”

Daniel picked up her jacket and opened the door, motioning her out. “There's where you're wrong, Evelyn. I have a lot of choices. And one of them is to ask you to leave right now.”

“You're making a big mistake, you know. If you refuse to deal civilly with me and Patrick, it's going to be your fault if we have to escalate this to the next level.”

“Wrong. I didn't start this fight. You had as much access to Bryn and Gracie as you wanted, but that ends now.”

For the first time in his memory, Evelyn actually looked scared.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that until you come to your senses and end this ridiculous custody suit, you are no longer welcome in my home.”

“But…you don't mean this. You're just upset. I have plans with the girls tomorrow!”

He shook his head firmly, mouth pressed into a tight line.

“You don't anymore.”

“Are you busy?” Daniel's rushed voice came over Hayley's phone the next morning, sending warm zings through her midsection.

“I was channeling my inner Cinderella. First I mopped, then I dusted—and then I mopped again, because I guess the dusting part is supposed to come first.”

“You really aren't domestic at all, are you?”

“Proudly, no. I leave a check on the table every Tuesday morning, and when I get home, the cleaning fairies have come through, leaving the scent of spearmint in their wake.”

“Aha. And then you pick up takeout for dinner.”

“Exactly.” She settled on one of the great room couches in the lodge, tucking her feet under her. Snow was starting to fall outside the French doors but Decker had lit a fire, and the room was warm and cozy as she tucked her phone to her ear. “So, what's up?”

“Any chance you're free today?”

“I can be. Why?” Her stomach jumped as she thought about the possibility of spending the afternoon with him doing—whatever the afternoon might hold.

“I really hate to ask you this, but is there any chance you'd want to hang with the girls for a couple of hours? I just got an emergency call. Something spooked a herd, and they headed into an area they shouldn't have. Apparently they're all banged-up and freaked out, and I need to go help get them stitched up and settled.”

“Yikes. Of course!” She stood up. “I can be there in ten minutes. Wait. Is—is Evelyn coming over today? I thought you said the girls were doing something in town with her.”

There was a studied pause at the other end of the line. “No. Evelyn won't be coming back.”

“Like…ever? That sounds dire. What happened?”

He sighed. “Long story I'll be happy to tell you later. Suffice it to say, today would be a really good day to have a partner to help take the calls. Know anyone who might be interested?”

“Interested? Always. Capable? Not so much. I thought you were interviewing some people a while back.”

Please say they were dismally unqualified. Please tell me you didn't offer anyone the position.

He sighed, and she could picture him sliding his fingers through that deliciously thick hair of his as he paced the kitchen. “I was. I did. But the whole time, I couldn't get this one picture out of my head.”

“Which was?” Her heart beat faster.

“You.” His voice was quiet. “You sitting in that stall, arms full of newborn foal, looking like you had just won the proverbial lottery.”

“Okay, girls. Today we're going to learn to make lasagna.” Later that afternoon, Hayley straightened her spine and pulled ingredients out of a shopping bag.

“Daddy loves lasagna!” Gracie crowed as she pushed a chair toward the counter.

“Oh, good. Then it'll be a nice surprise for him when he gets home.”

Bryn pushed another chair to the counter and got up on her knees. “Do you have a recipe?”

“Yes! I looked it up on the computer this morning. It got five stars from everybody, so it has to be good, right?” Both girls shrugged. “It does. Trust me. It will
definitely
be good.”

“Daddy said you don't really like to cook.” Gracie peered into the bag.

“I
like
to cook. I'm just not very good at it yet.”

Bryn looked at the ingredients Hayley had piled all over the counter, and her eyes widened. “This looks like a big recipe.”

Hayley laughed. “We can do this. It's going to be awesome.”

She couldn't help but see the look that passed between Gracie and Bryn at her overly confident pronouncement, but it just made her want more for this dinner to be a success. Daniel had called at lunchtime to let them know he thought he'd make it home for dinner, so Hayley was good and determined to show that she
could
damn well cook a man a meal.

She didn't want to think too hard about
why
she was so determined, however.

An hour later, Gracie ran through the house opening the windows and doors while Hayley dismantled the smoke detector and Bryn cringed and plugged her ears at the counter.

Gracie returned to the kitchen as Hayley opened the oven and tried to see through the smoke. “What happened?”

“I have no idea.”

Her eyes widened. “It grew!”

Bryn peeked over Hayley's shoulder. “It 'sploded!”

Indeed, cheese dripped out all four sides of the casserole pan, sizzling as it dripped onto the bottom of the oven, where it turned into thick, sticky, smelly smoke.

Hayley put her hands on her hips and stared at the lasagna. “This is not exactly the scent I was hoping your dad would come home to tonight.”

Gracie shook her head. “Maybe we should do peanut butter sandwiches instead.”

The phone rang, and Gracie got to it before Hayley could get the oven closed. She picked up the receiver and grinned, pressing the speaker button. “Hi, Daddy!”

“Hi, munchkin! How are things there?”

“Smoky!” Gracie laughed, and Hayley put her hand to her forehead.

“Uh-oh. Did Hayley try to start a fire in the fireplace?”

“Nope! In the oven!”

Hayley leaned toward the phone, anxious to salvage at least a shred of her dignity. “We're making dinner.”

“I repeat the part about
uh-oh.
”

Hayley pressed the speaker button and lifted the receiver to her ear. “How are the horses?”

“Changing the subject?”

“You betcha.”

“Horses are doing okay, which I'm not sure I can confidently say about my house.”

“It's just a little smoke. No lasting damage. Didn't even need the fire extinguisher.” Hayley sighed. “We were just trying to make you a nice dinner. It was a…new recipe.”

“I appreciate the effort.” He laughed softly. “And the intention. I feel honored.”

“You wouldn't if you saw your oven right now.”

“I'm sure it'll be fine. Have you had the radio on? Or the TV?”

“No. I'm babysitting. One hundred percent attention on the children, right?”

He laughed again. “That snow isn't letting up, and the plows haven't made their way out here.”

Hayley glanced out the kitchen window, where the clouds hung ominously low and dark.
How had she not noticed how hard it was now snowing?

“Are you saying you're stuck?”

“I might be. Think you can handle getting the girls dinner and tuck them in if I can't get back there in time?”

“Depends. Do you have any chicken fingers I can feed them?”

“Always. Top left in the freezer.” He was quiet for a second. “Thanks for making dinner, Hayley. I know it's not your…thing. I appreciate the thought.”

“It was a five-star recipe. It was going to be exquisite.”

“I bet it tastes a lot better than it looks right now.”

“I'll try to make the evidence disappear before you get home so you don't know how wrong you are.” She pulled chicken fingers out of the freezer and found a cookie sheet. “So are you thinking you might have to spend the night out there?”

“I hope not, but the road's impassable right now and getting worse. It doesn't look good.”

“Is this the part of winter-in-Montana that doesn't make it onto the postcards?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I was kind of hoping you wouldn't have to do a blizzard while you were here.”

“Well, I'm warm and dry and about to have gourmet chicken fingers, so I'm not sure it'll get me much mileage.”

“I appreciate this, Hayley.”

“It's okay. I can do this. No problem. We'll have fun.”

After she hung up, Hayley pulled the blackened, goopy mess out of the oven and slid in the cookie sheet.

“Looks like it's chicken fingers for dinner, girls.”

“Yay!” Gracie yelled. “Can we have French fries, too?”

“Why not? And gobs of ketchup, okay?” She got out the ketchup and a gallon of milk. “Oh, and guess what else? We're going to have a girls' night! Daddy needs to stay with the sick horses, so we're going to have a sleepover.”

Both girls leaped to hug her legs, almost knocking her over. “Really?” Bryn's eyes were wide as she looked up.

“Really.”

Gracie broke free and jumped up and down. “Can we sleep in the living room?”

“And make forts?”

“And use our princess sleeping bags?”

“And have s'mores?”

Hayley put a hand up, laughing. “Yes to forts and living room and sleeping bags. No to s'mores. Maybe we can have those for breakfast instead.”

They both hugged her again, and as Hayley put her arms around their little bodies, she was struck by a protectiveness she hadn't felt in far too long.

She was even more struck by how much she liked it.

“So no s'mores for breakfast?” Bryn wrinkled her nose in disappointment as she pulled herself onto a stool at the counter the next morning.

Hayley shook her head. “As fun as that would be, I think your daddy would be happier if we ate actual food for breakfast.”

“You said chocolate
is
food.”

“This is true, but we still can't have it for breakfast. Let's check out your cereal collection.”

While Bryn showed Hayley the cereal cupboard, Gracie studied the front of the fridge, where Daniel kept a well-marked-up calendar. “Hey! Guess what today is?” She pointed at the calendar, a mixture of emotions vying for control of her little face.

“What's today?” Hayley moved toward the calendar.

“It's Mommy's birthday.”

Hayley froze. It was Katie's birthday? What did that mean, in this house? Did they celebrate it? Do something special?

Bryn sidled over to the calendar and put her finger on Katie's name, tracing it slowly. Hayley bit her lip as she watched, feeling like it was her job to do—
something,
since Daniel wasn't here.

She put a hand on each of the girls' heads. “What do you usually do on your mommy's birthday?”

Gracie smiled. “We usually eat her favorite breakfast.”

Uh-oh. This could involve cooking.
“What was her favorite breakfast?”

“Cocoa Krispies.”

Hayley laughed in relief. “Seriously?”

Bryn nodded. “Yup. 'Cause Nana never let her have it when she was a kid, so she said when she was a grown-up she was going to have Cocoa Krispies every single day.”

“She ate them every day?”

“Well, almost.” Her voice got quiet. “ 'Til she got sick, and then she couldn't make them stay in her tummy anymore.”

Gracie nodded, pulling a box out of the cupboard. “So Daddy says it's our job to eat them as much as we want because Mommy didn't get the chance.”

“All righty, then.” Hayley took a breath. “Let's get some bowls.”

When they were seated and the cereal was popping and snapping, Hayley looked from Gracie to Bryn, marveling at how alike they looked, but how different they were from each other. Here they sat in their flannel pajamas, hair a little mussed, eyes a little sleepy, and Hayley felt a sudden, intense pain when she realized it wasn't supposed to be her sitting here at this table.

It was supposed to be Katie.

It was supposed to be Katie building snowmen and braiding their hair, buying them silly boots and making chicken fingers, tucking them in and singing them to sleep.

It was supposed to be Katie. And Daniel.

Not her.

And especially not her and Daniel.