A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe (18 page)

Ally listened intently to everything he was saying, but he couldn't quite read her expression. “In the meantime,” he continued, “you'll have a buyer for your wood, a steady stream of income and a way to pay the mortgage and the taxes on Mesquite Ridge for as long as you want to stay.” He handed her the proposal he had meticulously drawn up, down to the last penny. He hoped it was enough. “It's all here, in black and white.”

Ally stared at the numbers as if he had just given her the best gift she had ever received in her life. “This is very generous of you.”

And selfish.
“I want you to be happy and safe and free from financial worry,” Hank said sincerely. And most of all, he wanted her to stay….

Ally looked at the papers and began to laugh. “You're not going to believe this,” she admitted ruefully. “I've got a proposal all printed out, too.”

She went to get it, came back and thrust it into his hands, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “I was going to let you live here and run a herd of cattle for me, in exchange for land.”

Sounded good, Hank thought. Very good. And generous, too.

“Every year, you and I would split the profits on the
cattle, fifty-fifty. Instead of a salary, I'd pay you in acreage. At the end of thirty years, you'd own it all. Or sooner, if you could pull together the cash.” Before he could express his delight, Ally added quickly, “Except for the ranch house, that is.” Firmly, she continued, “I've decided I want to hold on to this. It's part of my heritage.”

Hank stared at her in wonder. “You really have changed your view of Mesquite Ridge!” And maybe ranching in general.

She looked at him with the affection he'd been craving. “Although it often felt to me that the land meant more to my mom and dad than I did, you've shown me it doesn't always have to be that way. You can own a ranch and make it your home and still put the people you love first in your life.”

“Agreed. But your idea is good, too. Maybe there's a way we can combine our two proposals, and come up with something even more solid. In the meantime…” Hank put both sets of papers aside. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “We have a few more things to discuss.”

She sent him a glance that started a flood of memories, both tender and erotic. “I'm not going back to Houston. I resigned my position.”

Hank gazed into her eyes. “You're sure?” he prodded, wanting more than anything for her to be happy—even if it meant he had to commute, via helicopter gigs, to see her.

Ally nodded. “My home isn't there anymore, Hank. It's here.”

She couldn't have given him a better Christmas present if she'd tried. “Does that mean I'm getting kicked out?” he teased.

“Depends.” Her green eyes went misty again. She moved closer still. “Do you want to share the space with me?”

Wary of asking for too much too soon again, Hank paused. Being roommates or live-in lovers wasn't what he wanted. Unless it was all she was ready for. “You're talking about living together?”

“A little more than that, actually. I love you, Hank. I love you with all my heart.”

Hope for the future mixed with the joy he felt. “I love you, too,” he told her, then paused for one long, sweet and tender kiss. He looked deep into her eyes. “More than I ever dreamed was possible…”

Ally grinned as contentment swept over them. “Which is why,” she informed him as her take-charge nature reasserted itself once again, “when all this ranch business is done, I'd like us to make it official.”

“You want to get married?” He grinned, triumphant.

Ally tilted her chin, stubborn as ever. “Got a problem with that, cowboy?”

“Not at all!” Hank laughed with delight. “I like a woman who knows what she wants and goes right after it.”

Ally rose on tiptoe and kissed him sweetly. “I like the same kind of man.”

“My answer to your proposal is yes then.” Hank danced her backward, stopping under the mistletoe. Clinging together, they made up for lost time with long, lingering kisses.

“I can't believe it,” Ally murmured finally, when at last they drew apart and turned to admire their tree. “It's not technically even Christmas for a few more hours, and I've already got everything I ever wanted. Except…” she gave a heart-wrenching sigh “…one thing.”

Hank listened in the silence of the ranch house and read
her wistful expression and knew immediately what it would take to make life in the ranch complete.

“A dog of our very own,” they said in unison.

Seven weeks later…

Ally was in the ranch house kitchen, trying to decide what to make for dinner, when Hank strolled in. His hands were full, a grin as wide as Texas on his face.

She gave him a facetious once-over and propped her hands on her denim-clad hips. Unable to completely stifle a laugh, she chided with mock censure, “Seriously? The mistletoe and Santa hat again? It's almost Valentine's Day!”

Hank waggled his brows and closed the distance between them in three lazy strides. He set the hat on her hair, lifted the sprig of greenery above her head, and paused to deliver a long, sensual kiss that robbed her of breath and warmed her heart.

Her toes curled in her boots.

With a look of pure male satisfaction on his handsome face, he drew back and drawled, “Cupid won't be here with his bow and arrow for another week. But you're right.” He bent and kissed her again, ever so tenderly this time. “That is something to anticipate. We'll have to put our stamp on that holiday, too. In the meantime—” Hank blazed a steamy trail from her ear to her throat “—every day is Christmas, with you by my side.”

Hank was right about that, Ally thought, as she clung to him lovingly.

Finally, he drew back, his midnight-blue eyes serious now. He put the mistletoe aside and clasped her in his arms. “Besides, if this is the only thing we ever disagree about, we're in pretty good shape, wouldn't you say?”

Ally nodded, and stated unequivocally, “We're a very good team.”

After confessing their love, and pledging their commitment to one another, they had easily forged a deal regarding the ranch that implemented both their ideas and benefited them each, from a business and financial perspective. Hank had helped Ally set up an office in town, where she could give others financial advice. He had cleared more land, sold the mesquite and used the proceeds to buy two hundred head more cattle.

Most important of all, they'd agreed on a wedding venue and date, and had married a week ago in a private ceremony on the ranch, with family and close friends as witness.

“Except for one tiny thing,” Ally added after a moment.

An inscrutable look came into Hank's eyes. “A dog.”

“I want an older one,” she reiterated the discussion they had been having nearly every day in some form or another since Duchess and the puppies had gone home with Talia Brannamore.

Hank exhaled, no more willing to budge on this particular issue than she was. “And I think we need a puppy,” he said firmly.

They squared off, both silent and yet unable to stop smiling. “Does it really matter what age the dog is,” Ally asked finally, “as long as the one we adopt as ours is sweet and lovable?”

Hank winked. “And fluffy and golden…”

Ally laughed. She lifted a hand in a gesture of peace. “Okay, so we do agree on a breed.”

“It's definitely got to be a golden retriever,” Hank said firmly, then looked at his watch. “What do you know?” he drawled, as a familiar pickup truck turned up the lane toward the ranch house. He peered out the window. “It's time.”

Time for what?
Ally wondered, but didn't ask. Hearing scratching noises on the floor above them, Ally pushed Hank toward the door. “Better go see who that is,” she said hurriedly.

He shot her a perplexed look over his broad shoulder. “I already know who it is. It's my cousin Kurt.”

Probably here on some vet business regarding Hank's cattle,
Ally thought. “Still…” Hearing another sound, she gave her husband a nudge.

No sooner was Hank through the portal than she raced upstairs.

Into the sewing room.

Where her “gift” was on her feet, sticking her nose out the window.

Ally adjusted the big red bow around her neck and patted her head. “Come on, honey. It's show time!”

Together, they headed down the stairs.

Before they reached the bottom, Ally heard the truck start up again and drive off.

Seconds later, Hank walked in.

His jaw dropped as he saw who was standing at Ally's side.

“Duchess?” he said hoarsely.

Ally could have sworn there were tears in his eyes.

She gaped at the bundle of fluff with the big red bow in Hank's arms. “And Gracie!” she cried ecstatically.

The nine-week-old puppy squirmed and jumped free.
She ran to her mother, gave Duchess a quick greeting, then made a beeline for Ally.

Ally dropped to her knees, and the adorable puppy leaped into her arms, burrowing close.

Duchess rushed toward Hank. He hunkered down on the floor to give her a proper greeting, and the mama dog climbed into his lap so enthusiastically she practically knocked him over. Whimpering eagerly, she licked him under the chin.

Gracie did the same to Ally, while the two humans laughed and cried in unison. Finally, the pup and her mama climbed off them. When Gracie started to circle, Hank jumped to his feet and scooped her up in his arms. “Oh no, you don't, sweetheart. We're taking this outside.”

Ally looked at him in confusion as he shepherded all four of them out the front door to the yard.

He set Gracie down on the grass. She circled again and got down to business.

“Oh!” Ally said.

“House-training,” Hank explained with a grin. “We'll get the hang of it.”

She smiled and went to stand next to him as mother and pup romped together in the grass.

“Wow, she has grown so much!” Ally noted jubiliantly. “From less than a pound at birth…”

“To nearly nine pounds now,” Hank said.

Ally turned to him. She clasped his forearms and searched his face, aware that this truly was a miracle, one she never had thought would be possible. “How did you manage to get her? I thought Gracie was already spoken for.”

“She was,” Hank admitted, sobering. “But after a lot of begging and pleading I managed to convince her would-be
owner to take another golden, from another championship litter, in Gracie's place.”

“Good move! This is my best present ever.”

“I'm so glad.” Hank paused. “How did you get Duchess? Because I tried to buy her, too, but was told by the breeder in no uncertain terms that she was not up for adoption.”

“I knew how much you loved each other, so I called Talia the day after she was here. She told me this was Duchess's second litter and that she was retiring—since it's not healthy for a golden to have more than two litters in a lifetime. So I arranged for her to come here. Only Duchess couldn't leave until all her puppies were weaned and old enough to go to their new homes.”

“Which was today,” Hank murmured.

Ally nodded. “That explains where I was this morning.”

“And where I was this afternoon. I picked Gracie up, took her over to the vet clinic for a checkup and her second round of vaccinations. Kurt wanted to keep her for a short while—just to make sure there was no reaction, and to let the techs in the office play with her a bit….”

Ally beamed. “Because she's so adorable!”

“Absolutely. Just like you.” Hank kissed Ally again. “And then he followed me out to the ranch and kept Gracie in his truck at the top of the lane, while I came in to make sure you were ready for your surprise.”

Ally watched the pup and her mother nestle together contentedly on the lawn. She shook her head, marveling at their many blessings. “So now we have two dogs.”

Hank grinned, still looking a little stunned by their belated Christmas miracle. He wrapped his arms around Ally and hugged her close. “Looks like.”

She rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I couldn't be happier.”

He stroked a hand lovingly up and down her spine. “Me, either, Mrs. McCabe.”

Ally grinned and drew back to look up into his face. “You really have made all my dreams come true,” she told him seriously. The ranch that had been the bane of her youth was now the source of all her joy.

“For now,” Hank stated, the fierce affection he felt for her reflected in his eyes. “There will be plenty more fulfilled wishes to come.”

Brimming with hope and joy, Ally knew that anything was possible. She looked at Hank with all the love she possessed. “And plenty more Christmases to celebrate.”