Colton's Christmas Baby Read online

  “Pleased to meet you,” Eve lied, suddenly overwhelmingly conscious of her short, unpainted fingernails.

  They touched hands quickly, and Maisie sat down.

  Luckily, Bonnie Gene kept the conversation rolling, and soon Maisie was chatting about everything from cattle wandering off in a blizzard to the latest winter fashions.

  Meanwhile, Eve kept watching the kitchen while her stomach rumbled, waiting for her food.

  Finally, the hamburgers arrived, dropped off by the hostess, as their waitress was busy waiting on other tables. Eve reached for her burger, ignoring Maisie’s stare of disapproval as she raised it to her mouth and took a huge bite.

  Heaven. It was all she could do to keep from rolling her eyes and moaning out loud.

  Bonnie Gene, however, was a bit more gracious. “Maisie, would you like half of mine? We ordered long before you came in.”

  “No, thanks,” Maisie drawled. “I don’t eat beef.”

  That was too much, even for Eve. Swallowing her food, she couldn’t resist pointing out. “Um, Maisie? You live on a cattle ranch.”

  Up went one perfectly shaped brow. “So?”

  Staring at her, Eve tried to picture Darius Colton’s reaction to a daughter who wouldn’t eat beef. The autocratic cattleman had never been shy in proclaiming his contempt and disdain for what he called ‘tree huggers’ and ‘vegans.’ Was this her way of rebelling against an autocratic and dictatorial father? If so, Maisie was now a bit too old to be still playing that sort of game.

  Either way, it wasn’t Eve’s business. “I just thought it was different, that’s all. While I admire you for your principles, I could never do it. I love my meat too much.”

  “I can tell.” Maisie let her gaze sweep disparagingly over Eve. Then, while Eve was still reeling from the incredibly rude comment—standard Maisie Colton—Maisie continued. “The way you’re eating that burger it’s almost like you’re eating for two or something.”

  Eve froze. Panicked, she looked at her mother, to see Bonnie Gene also staring slack-jawed at the crazy Colton woman.

  Blithely, as though completely unaware she’d said anything wrong, Maisie kept on. “Of course, you’ve got to actually have a man to get pregnant, and since everyone knows you’re not dating anyone, unless you used a sperm bank or something—”

  “Maisie!” Bonnie Gene barked, cutting her off. “I think that’s enough. I’m shocked at your behavior.”

  Right. As if her mother had reason to be surprised. Maisie Colton would never change. Maisie was…Maisie. Beautiful, spoiled, unbalanced. She’d been that way as long as Eve could remember.

  Yet, at Bonnie Gene’s words, unbelievably, the glamorous Colton ducked her head, appearing contrite. “My apologies,” she said, stiffly. “I meant no harm.”

  A shadow fell over their table. Damien Colton, grim-faced and impossibly handsome. “Ladies.”

  Eve’s heart rate went into overdrive. His gaze touched on Eve, again briefly, sending a jolt directly to her insides. “Maisie, Wes and I are waiting for you over there. Lily’s joined us as well.” Holding out his hand for his sister, he waited patiently while Maisie made up her mind.

  “I was meeting you for lunch, wasn’t I?” she said in a sheepish tone, wrinkling her perfect nose prettily. “I’m so sorry I kept you waiting. I wanted to talk to Bonnie Gene for a second. She’s going to teach me how to quilt.”

  To his credit, Damien didn’t react to this news at all. He simply nodded, taking her hand and helping his sister to her feet.

  “Sorry to interrupt your lunch, Ms. Kelley. Eve.” This time, as his gaze met hers, Eve saw the hint of a promise in his. While she still tried to figure that out, he began to move off, Maisie on his arm.

  “By the way,” he said, glancing over his broad shoulder at her. “Do I need an appointment to get a haircut at that salon of yours, or can I just drop in?”

  For one horrifying moment, Eve couldn’t find her voice. Pulling it back somehow from somewhere, she managed a response. “How about Tuesday afternoon? Around four?”

  He dipped his chin to acknowledge her words. “I’ll be there.” Then, with his sister’s arm tucked in his, he left them.

  Wow. Eve couldn’t keep herself from watching him until the crowd blocked her view. “I’ve never cut a Colton man’s hair,” she breathed. “They usually go to the Old Time Barber Shop down the street. I can’t believe this.”

  “Get your tongue back in your mouth, girl,” Bonnie teased as she finally wrapped her hands around her burger.

  “I know,” Eve sighed. “Damien Colton’s one kind of trouble I don’t need.” She’d need to keep reminding herself of that. Especially since every time she saw him, she turned to Jell-O inside.

  “So,” Maisie asked brightly, clutching Damien’s arm as though she needed help to stay upright. Hell, trying to walk with those high-heeled boots, she probably did. “Are you ready to do some serious Christmas shopping?”

  They’d reached the booth and the flurry of hellos and hugs saved Damien from answering. Maisie was the only one who acted as though he hadn’t changed. She still treated him as if he was the same twenty-year-old boy who’d gone away to prison for fifteen years. As if she was trying to pretend that his long incarceration had never happened.

  She and she alone appeared blind to how he’d changed. She didn’t understand that he was different, that he’d become a bitter, angry man. Though he hated that, he accepted it, hoping with time some of the bitterness would fade. The only time he found any peace was on the back of a horse, riding the land, far away from people or buildings or anything even remotely resembling civilization.

  But not only had Maisie been nagging him to go Christmas shopping with her, but he’d needed to meet up with Wes. As Honey Creek’s sheriff, Wes was swamped at what normally was the slowest time of the year. With the Mark Walsh investigation going full-swing and the FBI in town, Wes hadn’t been able to make time to get out to the ranch.

  Fifteen years ago, a dead body had been mistakenly identified as Mark Walsh and Damien had been convicted of his murder. Then, some months ago, when the real Mark Walsh turned up actually dead and Damien had been exonerated, the search was on for his real killer.

  Worse, the FBI had been in town. Damien had actually spoken to one of the agents again a while back, agreeing to help in the investigation any way he could. What he hadn’t realized was that the Feds were in town for another reason, besides Mark Walsh’s murder. They were looking into some of Darius Colton’s business deals and had begun pressuring Damien to help them out. Not a day went by that he didn’t regret his impulsive offer to help, especially since they were increasing the pressure.

  Damien couldn’t care less what his father might have done by making the wrong investment or whatever. The last thing Darius needed was to go to prison for some white-collar crime—Damien knew firsthand what prison could do to a man. And Darius was sixty—if he went behind bars now, he’d probably never get out. No, thank you. Damien wanted nothing to do with that mess. All he cared about was finding Mark Walsh’s real killer. And, of course, finding out what had happened to his inheritance.

  He had been hopeful Wes could fill him in on the investigation, hopeful they’d made real progress. He had a keen interest in finding out both who had actually finally killed Mark, and the identity of the body he had been accused of murdering fifteen years ago. Someone had killed that guy, whoever he was. Damien wondered what the tie-in was to the real Mark Walsh.

  Had Mark set up the first killing, faking his own death? Surely he’d known Damien had taken the fall for his death and gone away to do hard jail time.

  But evidently, Mark hadn’t cared. People had believed him dead. Dead, he’d been free as a bird, while Damien’s entire life had been ruined.

  Nothing and no one could ever give Damien back what had been taken from him. Now, the burning drive to know the truth and a lack of ready funds were the only things that kept Damien in town.

  Until
his father had told him flatly that his inheritance was gone, he’d planned his entire future around that money. This, combined with the money his attorney said that the State of Montana would be paying him for his wrongful conviction, would be enough to start his own cattle ranch far away from Honey Creek. Someplace like Nevada or Idaho. He’d already started pricing acreage, preparing himself for when he could shake the dust of this place from his heels.

  Honey Creek, Montana, held nothing for him anymore. Nothing but painful memories. Except now that he had no inheritance, it looked like he was being held prisoner. Again.

  Chapter 6

  “Hellooo? Earth to Damien?” Maisie’s voice, plus her fingers snapping in front of his face, brought him back to the Corner Bar.

  “Sorry.” He gave his older sister a rueful smile, noticing how Wes and Lily still couldn’t tear their gazes away from each other. Love. Bitterness filled him. “What’d you need?”

  “I asked if you were ready to go lighten your wallet after we eat?”

  His wallet was already pretty damn light, but he didn’t tell her that. The wage his father paid him for working on the ranch was the same as he paid all the other ranch hands. Not exactly a fortune. “Yes, I’m ready to go Christmas shopping,” he lied.

  She grinned, making his small falsehood worth the trouble. Just because he wasn’t feeling Christmassy didn’t mean he had to ruin the holiday for her.

  They took their seats, Damien letting Maisie slide in first, so he could have the outside of the booth. Even before his prison experience, he hadn’t liked feeling hemmed in. Now, if he wasn’t careful, he’d feel trapped.

  “Good. Shopping’s my thing. Now, we’ve got to plan.” Rummaging in her oversized purse, she produced a small pad of paper and a shiny silver Montblanc pen.

  “Plan? Can’t we just go?”

  “Not when we’ve got as much to buy as you do,” she chided. “Now let’s see. I’m making a list of places we need to stop by.” Scribbling furiously, oblivious to everyone else, she began plotting.

  Damien exchanged a glance with Wes, who shrugged. Lily caught this and punched him lightly in the arm. Meanwhile, Maisie continued writing, unaware.

  Finally, she raised her head and pushed the paper toward Damien. “Take a look. I think this will cover everything, unless there is someplace you want to add?”

  Eying the paper, Damien groaned. “There must be ten different stores on this list,” he groused, earning Wes’s sympathetic grin. “Isn’t there one place we can go and get everything? Like one-shop stopping?”

  “The nearest Wally World is in Bozeman. That’s twenty minutes away in good weather. With this snowstorm that’s supposed to hit tonight, I think we’d better stay in town.”

  “That’s pretty sensible,” Lily agreed. She sounded surprised, which made Maisie grin. People outside the family saw only her eccentric, off-balance behavior. They’d been witness to enough emotional roller-coaster rides to label her crazy, which Damien could understand. Even in the short time he’d been home, he’d come to realize that his sister had some serious psychological issues.

  Personally, he wondered if she might be bipolar. In that case, she’d be fine with the right medications. But the one time Damien had brought up the topic with their father, Darius had gone ballistic and the subject had been dropped.

  So poor Maisie flew high and frequently dived low enough to scrape bottom. The entire town thought she was crazy. Damien believed she was actually sick. One thing he firmly intended to do before leaving Honey Creek was get Maisie the help she needed, even if he had to go against his father to do so. Thus far, though he’d been trying for the past few months, he hadn’t had any luck. Maisie herself refused even to consider the possibility of seeking medical help.

  Damn. Not for the first time, he reflected how complicated life was on the outside. Had he really believed when he’d been set free that he could go back to the simple days of riding the range and minding cattle?

  “Damien?”

  Again he raised his head to find everyone at the table eyeing him quizzically.

  “You drifted off again,” Maisie complained.

  “Are you all right, bro?” Wes asked, concern furrowing his brow.

  “Fine. Just tired. I was up all night with that sick cow.”

  Wes shook his head. “I’m so glad I don’t have to do that stuff anymore.”

  “I missed it,” Damien said simply.

  “Yeah, out of all us kids, you and Duke were the only two who took to cattle-ranching. The rest of us didn’t want anything to do with it.”

  “I agree.” Maisie shook her head, sending her long hair flying and her huge, dangling earrings tinkling. “Nasty, smelly animals. I don’t even like being in the same area as them.”

  This made the brothers both laugh.

  “I can’t even remember the last time you went to the barn,” Wes said.

  “I’ve been home almost four months and she hasn’t been near the place in all that time,” Damien seconded.

  Lily reached across the table and lightly touched the back of Maisie’s hand. “I don’t blame you. Cattle are hell on manicures.”

  They all got a chuckle out of that, though the women didn’t seem to understand why the men found this so amusing.

  The waitress brought their food on a huge, circular tray. Damien realized with surprise that while he’d been woolgathering, Wes had evidently ordered them all burgers and fries, except for Maisie, of course, who had a huge bowl of broccoli-cheese soup and a small salad.

  For the life of him, Damien couldn’t understand how anyone could eat that way, but his sister made her own choices. If she wanted to be a vegetarian, who was he to judge?

  He picked up his burger. The meat had been piled high with crispy bacon and mushrooms and cheese and smelled as close to heaven as a meal could. He dug in with gusto. Silence finally fell while the others did the same.

  For some reason, while he ate his thoughts returned to Eve Kelley, sitting with her mother and Maisie earlier. God, she was beautiful. Each time he saw her he felt that familiar pull in his gut, signaling his desire. When she’d met his gaze, he’d recognized something in her face. As fanciful as it sounded, her eyes had looked…haunted. He knew haunted. Intimately.

  “Maisie, I didn’t know you and Eve Kelley were friends,” he said into the silence.

  Both Wes and Lily stopped chewing and stared.

  Maisie scowled. “We’re not. I told you, Bonnie Gene is going to teach me to quilt. I’m going to the first meeting this week, if we aren’t snowed in.”

  Wes asked the obvious. “Why do you want to learn to quilt?”

  At his question, Maisie’s expression grew serious and determined. “For Jeremy. I want to make my son a quilt, so he’ll have something to remember me by when I’m gone.”

  Concerned, Damien exchanged a glance with his brother. “Maisie, are you planning on going somewhere?”

  She bit her lip, twisting the huge diamond ring that she always wore on her right hand. “No. You know what I mean. Someday we all die, right?”

  Relieved, he squeezed her shoulder. “Someday. Just not any time soon, all right?”

  “Of course.” Then, in her usual way, she changed moods. From somber to giddy, lightning-swift. “I’m so excited about Christmas! I can’t wait to get my gifts purchased and everything wrapped!”

  He noticed Lily’s wide-eyed stare. Though she and Wes were engaged, she obviously hadn’t been around Maisie enough to get used to her.

  Picking up his burger again, he nudged his sister. “And we’d better eat up so we can get started on all this shopping.”

  Munching happily, she nodded.

  A short while later, food devoured, small talk dispensed with and heartily sick and tired of watching Wes and Lily hang all over each other, Damien and Maisie donned their heavy parkas and exited the Corner Bar.

  It took every bit of self-restraint he possessed to keep from glancing over to see if Eve Kel
ley and her mother were still there. He could still remember her locked in his arms that night in the cab of his pickup. She’d been hot and willing and soft and beautiful.

  Like a dash of cold water, he remembered that more than sixteen years had passed since that night. For him, it might seem like yesterday. But Eve would definitely have moved on.

  Except she was still alone. And he wanted her.

  Outside, the icy air and blowing snow hit him like a welcome slap in the face. Maisie kept hold of his arm.

  “I love this time of the year,” she enthused. “Look at all the beautiful decorations.”

  He squinted where she pointed, trying to make out what she meant. “All I can see is the snow. It’s already a couple of inches deep.”

  “Spoilsport.” Punching his arm, she began to sing “Jingle Bells,” then stopped in mid verse to glare at him. “Feel free to join in at any time.”

  “I’m only here because of you,” he groused.

  “That and the fact that Christmas is only ten days away and you haven’t bought a single gift. Sing along. Christmas songs might help you get in the spirit.”

  “I doubt that. You know I can’t carry a tune.”

  A group of people, bundled in down coats and wearing knitted hats and scarves, hurriedly crossed the street to avoid them.

  “Did you see that?” Damien glared after them. “The way people act makes me want to punch something.”

  “Just ignore them.” Tottering along in her high-heeled, pointy-toed boots, Maisie used his arm like a lifeline. “People here always treat me like I have a disease. So, for sure, they’ll treat you the same. Like prison’s catching or somethin’.” She giggled loudly at her own joke.

  Even Damien had to smile. At least Maisie hadn’t changed, other than growing older. She was the same eccentric wild child now as she had been when he went into prison, albeit now she was a grown woman with a teenage son.

  “Besides,” she continued. “Who cares what the townspeople think? You don’t need to worry about them. You have us. You have family.”