Christmas With the Mustang Man (17 page)

“Traps are for rats. And you're not a rat. You're an angel,” he said huskily as his fingertips slipped lazily across her shoulder and down her back. “A Christmas angel sent straight to me.”

Christmas. Her family would be gathered around the giant tree that was erected every year in the family room. Grandmother Kate would play the piano and carols would be sung. Gifts would be exchanged and with spirits high, everyone would be laughing and celebrating Christ's birth. The beautiful image was a tradition she could always count on at her home on the Diamond D. But Christmas would be something entirely different for Boone and Hayley, she thought sadly. The rooms in their house wouldn't be filled with family. There would be no rowdy laughter or piles of decadent food.

That night her truck had failed to start, all she'd been able to think about was getting her business done and getting back home for the holiday. But now, though she would miss her family terribly, she realized that she didn't want to leave this man or his daughter. She wanted to give them all the joy that she could. Because she loved them. Oh, yes. She loved them. But would Boone want her love? Right now she dared not ask. Right now, she wanted him to get use to having her in his arms. And later, God willing, he would realize that he wanted to keep her there for all time.

“You've gone quiet on me, Dallas. Is something wrong?”

She moved her head just enough to let her gaze meet his. “No,” she hedged. “I was just thinking…about things. This trip has turned out to be—well, I never expected anything like this to happen. When I spoke to you over the phone, before I left the Diamond D, I thought I
was speaking with a much older man,” she admitted. “I thought I was going to come up here and meet a gray-headed gentleman with a kindly wife and a few grand-kids underfoot.”

He chuckled. “And I thought you were going to be one of those rough, rawboned women that had never worn a dress in her life and her main goal was saving the earth from human destruction.”

She laughed at his description and the lighthearted moment was just the thing she needed to push thoughts of tomorrow out of her head. “Little did we know.”

Resting his forehead against hers, he said, “This afternoon, when we watched the mustangs together, I just want you to know that I— That place—I've not shared it with anyone else.”

It was his way of saying she was special to him and for now that was enough to bring joy to her heart.

Slipping her arm around his neck, she brought her lips next to his. “And I'll never forget that you took me there, Boone. Never.”

 

The next morning, long before daylight, Dallas roused from her sleep to see Boone standing by the bed, buttoning his shirt.

Rising up on her elbow, she asked groggily, “Is it time to get up?”

Quickly he leaned over her and with a hand on her shoulder urged her back against the mattress. “It's still very early. Go back to sleep, darling.”

She started to protest, but he kissed her cheek and pulled the covers back over her shoulders. Too tired to argue, she closed her eyes and was sound asleep before he ever left the room.

It was much later before she finally woke a second
time and after taking a quick shower in her own bedroom, she dressed in jeans and a black sweater and left for the kitchen.

Boone was nowhere in sight and the coffee was burned black from sitting too long on the warmer. She was waiting for a fresh pot to finish dripping when the phone at the end of the counter rang.

A quick glance at the caller ID identified her mother's cell number and Dallas quickly snatched up the receiver.

“Mom! Hello!”

“Oh. I was about to hang up. I was hoping Mr. Barnett would answer and tell me that you'd already left for home. But I can see that's not the case.”

Mr. Barnett. How odd that sounded, Dallas thought. She'd just slept with the man. But thankfully her mother didn't know that. And if Fiona did learn about it, what would she think? That her daughter was a complete fool for falling into bed with a man she hardly knew?

But she did know Boone, her heart argued. And she could no longer deny the fact that she loved him. Somehow these past few days her feelings had grown from physical attraction to a heart-deep bond.

“Not yet. From what the mechanic has told me, I'm expecting him to have the truck ready to go sometime today. If it's past noon before I hear from him, then I won't have time to leave today. The trip in to Pioche then back out here to pick up the horses will take at least three hours and I don't want to start driving to New Mexico at night,” she explained.

Fiona sighed. “Your father and I wouldn't want you to do that. So at the latest you believe you'll be starting home tomorrow?” she asked in a hopeful voice.

Dallas squeezed her eyes shut as her torn emotions tugged her in all directions. “Yes. I suppose so.”

There was a moment's pause and then Fiona said, “Is anything wrong, Dallas? You don't exactly sound excited about coming home. Have you forgotten it's nearly Christmas? You've already missed so many parties! And everyone is asking about you—missing you!”

Her throat was so tight she had to clear it before she could speak. “I haven't forgotten, Mom. It's just that things have been happening up here. And—”

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Fiona interrupted.

Was she? Dallas asked herself. Boone and Hayley had brought so much joy to her life. The sort of joy she'd never experienced before. She felt as though she'd become a part of their family. But as far as she knew those feeling were all one-sided. Boone had made love to her, but he'd hardly said that he loved her. There was a world of difference.

“Yes. I am,” Dallas finally admitted. “Boone is— I've come to…like him very much. And his daughter is so cute and special.”

Several seconds of silence passed and Dallas knew Fiona was carefully weighing every word she'd spoken. Instead of being thirty-two years old she felt more like seventeen and desperately in need of her mother's approval.

“I see.”

“Do you really, Mom?”

“You've fallen in love with the man. I can hear it in your voice.”

Dallas tried to laugh but only succeeded in making a choking noise. “I never could hide anything from you.”

Fiona sighed. “That's true, Dallas. You've always been as transparent as a piece of Scotch tape. But you've also been a wise girl. If you believe this man is worthy of your love, he must be very special.”

Dallas groaned. “Are you forgetting about Allen? Getting engaged to that bastard was really a wise move on my part,” she said with sarcasm.

“We're all entitled to one mistake,” Fiona pointed out. “And Allen had the whole family fooled. Not just you.”

And now Dallas had probably made two mistakes, she thought, then just as quickly tried to shake the dismal notion away. Loving Boone was not a mistake. Somehow they had to mesh their lives together. Otherwise she didn't think she could ever be happy without him.

“I don't know what's going to become of all this, Mom. This has all happened so quickly and—”

“Dallas, if the two of you are meant to be together it will happen, trust me.”

If only she could feel that much confidence, Dallas thought. But after what Boone had gone through with Joan, she doubted he could ever trust a woman enough to allow her to be a permanent part of his life and a mother to Hayley. Obviously the two roles went hand in hand and she could never expect to be just one or the other.

“Yes. You're right,” Dallas said, then added, “I'll let you know when I'll be leaving.”

“You might not want to leave now,” Fiona pointed out.

The biggest part of Dallas didn't want to leave. But staying wasn't an option, either. Not unless Boone asked her to.

“My family, my job, my home is on the Diamond D,” she said in a low, strained voice.

“Grandmother Kate always says a woman's home is where her man is.”

Closing her eyes, Dallas pressed a hand to her forehead. “That's an old-fashioned notion that went out the window about the same time suffragettes marched for a woman's right to vote,” she argued. “A woman shouldn't
have to be a self-sacrificing martyr just to have a man, a family.”

“No. But sometimes circumstances call for a lot of giving. Maybe you need to decide just how much you love your Mr. Barnett. And then your heart will tell you how much you want to give.”

Tears stung the back of Dallas's eyelids. “I need to go, Mom. I'll call you tomorrow. And tell Liam not to worry. I'll have his truck home soon.”

She hung up before her mother could add anything else and quickly moved down the cabinet to pour herself a cup of coffee.

While she made herself a piece of toast and jam, she wondered if she was being a total fool to hope Boone might love her the same way that she loved him. Last night in his arms, her world had changed. She'd learned what it was like to be truly wanted, to have every inch of her body worshipped by a man.

But he'd admitted it had been a long time since he'd been with a woman in that way. Maybe she'd simply assuaged his sexual needs.

The spinning question in her head didn't stop as she swallowed down the last of her toast and left the kitchen.

 

Out in the ranch yard, Boone and Mick had just returned after spending more than two hours rescuing a trio of calves from a dry wash. Somehow the babies had wandered away from their mothers and climbed down into a place they didn't know how to get out of.

Now, as the two men led their mounts into the barn where they could unsaddle them out of the wind, Mick asked, “What are you going to do for Christmas?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? What about Dallas? I'm sure she'll want to celebrate whether you do or not.”

“I doubt Dallas will be here.” Boone lifted the saddle from the gray's back and carried it into the tack room. As he was resting it on a wooden stand, Mick joined him in the small space. A bridle and tie-down were draped over his shoulder.

“So she's going home?”

“Was there ever any question about that?” Boone asked curtly.

Mick hung the pieces of tack on a nail, then turned to look at him. “I wasn't sure. I thought you might do something crazy and ask her to stay.”

A heavy pain filled Boone's chest. “Hell, Mick. You know me better than that.”

“Do I? I'm not so sure.” His gaze fell to the cat rubbing against Boone's jean leg. “By the way, I've been meaning to ask where she came from.”

Boone looked down at the calico. “I have no idea. She just showed up the other day.”

“Showed up? That doesn't make sense. Your closest neighbor is ten miles away. She couldn't have hoofed it that far out here.”

“Well, she hoofed it from somewhere. And now she's made herself at home.”

“Yeah, like someone else I know.”

Boone glared at him. “That was uncalled for.”

Mick had the decency to look shamefaced. “Are you going to let her stay?”

Frowning, Boone bent over and stroked the cat. “Are you talking about the little calico now?”

“That's who I mean. Can't you see she's pregnant? If you let her hang around here you'll just end up having a bunch of mouths to feed.”

His jaw tight, Boone looked up at his friend. “Well, what would you have me do, Mick? Get rid of her by any means? You know me better than that. Remember, I'm not Newt. I'm Boone. I happen to care about other living creatures.”

“What the hell does that mean? And I'm not so sure you do care. If you cared that much you wouldn't ignore the old man the way you do.”

Boone mouthed a curse. “He's a drunk, Mick. You know it. I know it. And he's never cared about anyone or anything but himself.”

“I thought that honor belonged to Joan.”

Fed up, Boone turned and strode out of the tack room. Mick followed on his heels with the pregnant calico trailing behind the two men.

“We've been friends for a long time, Mick, but I'll tell you right now—you're making me damned mad. I don't know what's put a burr under your collar but for the past few days you've been acting like a jerk.”

“And you've been behaving like—well, not yourself,” Mick answered him, then heaved out a long breath and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Boone could see his friend was troubled, but he already had a head full of miseries. Right now, he couldn't deal with more. “I have things on my mind,” Boone told him.

“Well, here's something else for you,” Mick retorted. “Newt called me last night.”

Boone paused in the act of slipping a nylon halter onto the gray's head. Newt rarely called anyone. What could be going on with the old man now? he wondered. “Drunk?”

“Surprisingly, he sounded sober. He wanted to know
what you were doing for Christmas. Said he'd tried to call you but you didn't answer.”

“Dallas and I were gone and didn't get home until late. I checked the answering machine. He didn't bother leaving a message.”

Mick shrugged. “He wants to see his granddaughter for Christmas. He says he'll be sober.”

A pent-up breath eased out of Boone. “We'll see,” Boone said grimly.

Relenting now, Mick walked over and placed a comforting hand on Boone's shoulder. “I know he's led a pretty sorry life, Boone. But he's lonely. And he needs you.”

Mick had always been more generous-hearted and understanding toward Newt than Boone had ever been. Since the other man had been raised in a string of foster homes, Mick considered having any sort of blood parent better than none at all.

“I'll take Hayley by to see him, Mick. I always do.”

Mick looked at him. “So you expect Dallas to be gone by Christmas Day?”

The question left Boone cold inside. All morning he'd tried his best not to think of Dallas leaving, of never seeing her again. After last night, it seemed impossible that something so deep and special could end so soon. But it had to end, he told himself. Dallas was a wonderful woman. He couldn't ask her to bury herself here on White River and give up everything that was dear and important to her. He'd gone down that road before and though Dallas was a much stronger person than Joan, he wasn't willing to take the chance of crushing her spirit, too.