A Texas Christmas Reunion Read online

  She set Joe at her breast, stroked his hair and sang him a Christmas carol.

  Halfway through “Silent Night” she began to dream of frosted cookies, mulled wine and sugar-dusted mountaintops under a starry sky. She was vaguely aware of drifting off and welcomed it. Imagining the scent of Christmas trees was ever so much better than...gumdrop frogs.

  * * *

  A foray into the forest to cut a dozen trees was harder and took longer than Trea had thought it would.

  Even though he’d left the hotel at dawn, the adventure had taken all day and into the evening. The morning had begun when he went to the train depot and picked up the crate of candles and metal reflectors he’d ordered from Smith’s Ridge. Then he’d gone into the woods to find twelve perfect trees, cut them down and load them into the wagon.

  It had been a huge undertaking. One he could not have completed without Charlie’s help.

  He winced now and again at newly sore muscles and a collection of scratches, but he did not regret them. They were a small price to pay for what he had gained today.

  Not only was he going to fill Juliette’s lobby with trees, but the hours spent with Charlie had been invaluable.

  While sharing the labor of cutting and hauling, a man-to-man sort of activity, he had been able to speak with Charlie about dozens of things. The kid seemed to bask in the attention like a lizard soaking up sunshine.

  They’d spent the previous evening stringing popcorn garlands, and he had been able to talk to Charlie about life—how at his age it could go one way or another. That it was his choice to pick success or failure for his future.

  At some point while they were tying up berries and ribbons, he’d thought Charlie understood—success was hard and had to be worked for. Failure was easy and just naturally slipped into a life of failed dreams.

  It had taken Trea a long time to learn that. Hopefully the way would be easier for his student.

  Deep down, he was a good boy. Truly, Trea could not have pulled off the surprise for Juliette without the boy’s hard work.

  When they parted ways at the schoolhouse, Trea swore the boy walked taller. A bit of pride straightened his posture.

  That had been at eight o’clock. It seemed like it took an awfully long time for Juliette to quit looking out her dining room window and settle in for the night. Watching and waiting from the alley between The Suzie Gal and the dress shop had been a cold business.

  He didn’t even know what time it was now, but late—or early, depending upon how one looked at the wee hours.

  Everything had been worth it, in the end.

  Twelve trees were now scattered about the hotel lobby, decorated and glowing with the light of too many tiny candles to count. He hoped this was the enchanted forest of her dreams. He could not wait another minute to see Juliette’s joy when she first saw them.

  For half a second he thought he should not disturb her, but no longer than that. There was something he wanted to tell her and he needed to do it while everyone was asleep.

  Barefoot, he walked to the door of Juliette’s private quarters. The floor had been chilly when he removed his boots earlier in order to complete his task as silently as possible. It still was.

  Dixie didn’t seem to mind. She trotted from tree to tree wagging her tail and sniffing low branches.

  Knocking softly on Juliette’s door, he listened for movement.

  Nothing, not a shuffle or a sigh.

  He would have to wake her, but he doubted she would mind after seeing the bewitching shimmer of the transformed lobby.

  Fortunately, the door was not locked. Neither was the one to her parlor. It stood ajar, the glow of the dying fireplace leaking out the gap.

  Inch by slow inch, he pushed it open.

  Softly illuminated in the flames’ last glimmer, Juliette slept in her chair. Her dress was open to the waist and Joe’s pink cheek lay against her breast. Even in the baby’s dreams, his small pink mouth made sucking motions.

  It was wrong to stand, dumbstruck and staring, but he could not recall ever seeing anything more touching, more beautiful, in his life.

  Maybe having missed a mother’s love growing up was what made his eyes moist, made his heart swell and his breath catch in his throat.

  This woman deserved to have all of her dreams come true. He was grateful to be able to fulfill a dozen of the smaller ones.

  With great care, he lifted Joe from her slack arms, resisting the very great temptation to glance where he should not.

  He carried Joe to the bedroom, laid him down in his cradle then paused for a moment to watch Lena sleep. Sweet little thing, she was the image of her mother.

  Tiptoeing back to the parlor, he kept his gaze steadfastly on the floor. With the baby removed the scene had changed.

  Where a moment ago it had been tender beyond bearing, it was now pure titillation. Yes, his reaction to Juliette not being modestly covered was unlike what it had been with Joe to chaperone.

  It was not the tender vision of a mother with her child that kept his eyes riveted on the roses woven in the rug, but ripe and forbidden fruit.

  He’d be a fool to think otherwise and he’d outgrown being a fool years ago.

  If he succumbed to temptation, looked at her in lust, it would only prove that he had not changed at all.

  Hell and blazes, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel lust. A man could not control what he felt, only what he did.

  Kneeling in front of her, he gently tugged on a lace ruffle to slide up her chemise. It was not his fault that smooth warm skin grazed his knuckles or that his body reacted to the velvet brush against the hairs of his fingers.

  With his eyes still closed, he located a button on her shirt and tugged the chemise across her skin—didn’t button it up, though. That was not a job for a man on the verge of tossing away restraint.

  Since he had so far survived temptation, he figured it would be safe to open his eyes.

  He’d figured wrong. His heart tumbled, free-falling at the sight of loose tendrils of hair kissing her temple and the sweep of her long dark lashes closed in deep sleep.

  For as much as he wanted to kiss her awake, he didn’t. He stood up, ever so quietly, then backed up three steps. Perhaps she would not realize he was the one to set her clothing to rights.

  “Juliette... Beautiful, wake up.”

  She jolted, grabbed her empty lap and gasped.

  “I put him to bed.”

  With the barest of glances, she took note of the fact that her clothing was not as it had been when she fell asleep.

  She leaped out of the chair without seeming to care that the crescent-shaped curve of one breast had popped back into view.

  He cared—greatly. Mouth dry, he pointed his finger, urging her to cover herself.

  If she didn’t, years of self-discipline might be for naught. Reformation had its limits.

  “Where have you been?” she exclaimed, launching herself at him while she buttoned up.

  For a moment he thought she would fall into his embrace. But no, she poked his chest with one finger...forcefully. “You aren’t dead.”

  She touched his cheek, blinked her eyes against the gathering moisture. “I don’t even care if you were cavorting with Nannie Breene—well, I do, but I thought you were dead!”

  “Why would you think so?”

  “You just disappeared! Not a word to anyone! Poof—you were gone. You couldn’t have left me a note?”

  “I nearly did, but I didn’t want to lie about where I was.”

  She went from flushed to pale, quick as a gasp.

  “I’m sure it’s none of my business what goes on between you and Miss Breene, although if you ask me, she isn’t—”

  Wrapping his hand around the finger that had begun another assault on his shirt, he led her out of her parlor and toward th
e lobby.

  “Nannie Breene?” he muttered, pulling her along. “I’d rather be alone the rest of my life.”

  “You would?”

  “Come with me.” When she resisted, he tugged her along the hallway.

  “If you aren’t dead and you haven’t been with Nannie—then what? I will not believe you started the smolder in the livery.”

  “There was a fire at the livery?”

  “A small one that the liveryman was able to stomp out. But no one knew where you were, so everyone assumed it was you and you’d run away.”

  “They’ll have to assume something else.”

  The glow cast by hundreds of candles came into view before the trees did.

  At the lobby door, he heard her gasp his name. He let go of her hand.

  Silently she entered the parlor, slowly moving from tree to tree, touching one, breathing in the pine scent of another. She did not seem to be aware that Dixie jumped up and down on her skirt in greeting.

  “This is—it’s just so unbelievable—I might still be asleep.” It had to be his imagination that her bare feet didn’t quite touch the ground while she glided from one tree to another.

  “How did you get the angel all the way on top of that one?” she said, looking up and up, nearly to the ceiling.

  The angel she spoke of was simply a handful of straw, twisted this way and that, with white feathers stuck in it for wings.

  It was something of a rustic masterpiece, he had to admit. He was particularly proud of the small wooden star attached to the back of the angel’s head that Charlie had carved and Trea had painted white.

  “I stood on the landing with it stuck on the end of a broom handle and then—”

  She must not have cared about the and then of things so much, because she rushed across the room and into his arms.

  “I am so relieved you aren’t frozen in a ditch.” Her arms went around his neck, hugging tight. “Truly, Trea—I could accept you being with Nannie, but the world without you in it? No, never that.”

  He felt the chill of her bare toes brush his warmer ones, smelled the feminine scent of her cheek so near his lips.

  “That so?” he asked casually, but life as he’d known it was about to change.

  Maybe it was too soon, but he had something to ask of her. The answer would determine the course his life would take.

  On the other hand, it might always be too soon. Better too soon than too late, though, so he was going to do it.

  “Yes, it is. I’ve never had a better friend than you.”

  “A better friend?” He gripped her shoulders, held her back just far enough so that he could look into her eyes, judge the sort of emotion flooding them. “So good a friend that you wouldn’t mind if I courted Nannie? And one you would hate to see dead?”

  * * *

  “Hate it very much,” she agreed, nodding vigorously.

  Judging by the slow narrowing of his eyes, perhaps she had said too much—or not enough.

  The thing was, she was so completely and enormously overwhelmed by this gift he had given her, she could scarce form a logical thought.

  The one and only thing in her mind was kissing him and admitting how truly devastated she would be if he courted Nannie.

  “Why?” he asked.

  She backed up a step, but he lifted the braid that was dangling over her heart, then drew her close again.

  “Because I—what are you doing?” Or rather, why was he doing it? She knew what. He was untying the ribbon that secured her braid and unraveling it from the tresses—fondling the strands with his fingertips.

  “Watching the reflection of candlelight in your hair.” He shot her the lopsided smile that made her insides buzz like a hive of honeybees. “You didn’t tell me why you would hate to see me dead.”

  “Naturally, I would hate to see anyone dead,” she whispered. Where was her breath all of a sudden—her logic and sound judgment? Gone to a place she could not find them and where, in that moment, she did not care to go looking for them. “But in your case—I couldn’t kiss you if you were dead, Trea.”

  Looking at her silently, his grin evened out. He withdrew the ribbon from her hair, opened his fingers and let it drift to the floor.

  Dixie snatched it up and ran off with it.

  “I’m mighty glad I’m not lying lost in a ditch.” He lifted her chin with his big firm thumb. Evidently one could drown in another’s gaze because she was doing it. His steady brown eyes utterly took her breath away and she didn’t care to get it back. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you, Juliette?”

  She shook her head because she did not know, but she wanted to—desperately.

  “Since I was fifteen years old.” The warmth of his breath inched closer to her lips.

  “That’s a very long wait. I think you ought to do it—now.”

  In case the Christmas trees were not blessing enough, the warmth, the possessive pressure of his lips coming down upon hers were half a heartbeat from a miracle.

  For as long as he claimed to have dreamed of this moment, so had she.

  Dreamed of it, given up hope of it, then dreamed it again.

  His grip on her waist was firm, his fingers warm, tender as they inched up her ribs in a possessive advance. Muscular arms circled her back, drew her in.

  With heartbeat pressed against heartbeat, Trea Culverson changed her world.

  Life might appear normal once he released her lips, but she would never be.

  In time she might have recovered from a kiss given by the fifteen-year-old boy, but not one from the man. No, she would never recover from him.

  And if he didn’t feel the same way?

  She could not let herself think it. Right now, in this moment, they were not simply meeting mouth to mouth, but soul to soul.

  In her marriage she had been kissed, pecked and petted. This was different.

  She was consumed—taken by this man. With one embrace, she was forever his.

  Slowly, he let the kiss go, but he hugged her close, breathing hard.

  She clung to him. As much as she wanted to draw back, to look into his eyes and see if the life-shaking moment had touched him as much as it had her, she was frightened to, because if it hadn’t she—

  “Juliette.” His voice stirred the hair at her temple. His breathing began to slow but his heart still beat as madly as hers did. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you. I hoped to do it here among the trees.”

  “Yes?” She pushed out of his embrace, felt bereft of his warmth. But then she looked into his eyes and found them gazing down at her, as full of heat and yearning as the kiss had been.

  “May I court you?”

  “Yes!”

  “May I begin now?” He crooked his elbow so she placed her hand upon it. “Will you honor me with a barefoot stroll among the evergreens?”

  “It’s a lovely night for it, don’t you think?” she asked politely, then winked.

  “It’s enchanting by candlelight. Especially in the company of such a delightful companion,” he said, equally proper and formal.

  For five minutes they toured the room, chatting affably while pointing out various ribbons and berries adorning the trees.

  “I enjoyed our courtship,” he announced with a grin and a nod.

  “Are we finished already?”

  “Transitioning.” He ran two fingers along her brow, the curve of her cheek and the line of her jaw. “There’s something I want to tell you, Juliette. Actually, I’ve been wanting to say this to you for a long time—maybe for years. The length of our courtship won’t make it any more or less true.”

  Her hands and face grew damp, her stomach flipped and swirled. There was every indication that she was going to faint—or float.

  Trea cupped her cheeks in his rough
, warm hands, his touch grounding her to the here and now.

  “Juliette Lindor, you are the most amazing person I have ever met. I respect you more than anyone I have ever known—”

  “As I do you, Trea.”

  “And I’m completely in love with you.”

  Her face was moist, dripping, in fact, and there was not a single thing she could do to stop the tears.

  “Well—I love you, too.”

  Going up on her toes she wrapped her arms around him, pressed her face against his throat.

  “I always have.” Her lips grazed his skin with the whisper. “And I don’t mean to take away from what I felt for Steven, but Trea—somehow it’s always been you.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, his head nodding ever so slightly. “You know how I was as a kid, all those girls. But in spite of how that appeared, there was only ever you. You are the only one who was ever in my heart, Juliette.”

  He held her for a long time, bare toes touching while she clung to him as tightly as he did to her—rocking, holding on to the newfound joy of confessing their hearts.

  “I’ve got something else to say before we quit this courtship. Let’s continue our walk in these magical woods.”

  He did not extend his arm but hugged her close to his side. This time there was no polite, courtly conversation.

  A silent awareness, an awakening, pulsed between them while they strolled between the trees. He drew her to a stop behind one, kissed her and told her again that he loved her and how much.

  Pausing at each tree he did the same, revealing one more reason that he loved her.

  She was not completely certain this was not a dream. How could one go from complete misery to complete joy in such a short time?

  He led her to the tallest tree, the one with the angel on top.

  With a great grin, he hugged her then released her with a kiss on the top of her head.

  Kneeling down, he took her hand, kissed her palm and then her knuckles. “Marry me, Juliette. Let me be your husband. I can honestly say I will love you for a lifetime. I know I’m not Joe’s or Lena’s father, but I’ll be devoted to them, love them every day, as if I was. I promise you. Please, just marry me.”