Page 11 of Cowboy's Christmas Wife

Daryl nodded, and they turned and walked through the big, open double doors of the stables. The air was thick with the smell of hay and horse, and she could hear the soft grunts and neighs as the horses came to check out who was visiting. They all seemed to perk up when they saw Daryl. He reached out and patted at the neck of a pretty brown mare with a starburst on her muzzle. “This is my best gal,” he said. “Loretta, this is Laura Jo.” He said it with an air of formality, as if this was the most important introduction of the day.Maybe it is, she thought and stepped forward to touch that white starburst. The horse nuzzled into her hand, and Daryl grinned widely. “She likes you,” he said.

“She’s a sweet girl,” Laura murmured. The horse caught sight of Lily and leaned out of the stall more, trying to get a look at the baby. Laura laughed but stepped back out of reach. She couldn’t be sure that the horse wouldn’t nip, despite her sweet friendliness.

As they finished greeting the rest of the horses—who were all calm and friendly, though none had the same gentle curiosity as Loretta—she and Daryl walked back out into the sunshine. “We could head back to the house, if you want,” he said, “or I could show you my workshop.”

There was something about the way he said it—something soft and kind of hopeful—that made up Laura’s mind immediately. “I would love to see the workshop,” she told him.

She followed Daryl down a path to a ramshackle building that was more a lean-to than anything else. Inside, she found a large workbench with all manner of tools spread out on its surface. She reached out and picked up one of the large punchers and looked at him, eyebrows raised. “What is this?”

Daryl laughed and took it from her and put it back on the bench. “It creates holes in leather.” He gestured to a table of different bits of leather. “Sometimes I buy pieces of leather if I want a specific color, but I’m getting pretty good at making my own.” He steered her over to his finished and half-finished projects. “I’ve made all sorts of things for folks: belts, bridles, saddles, saddlebags.” He laughed. “Even chaps once or twice.” Laura could hear the excitement in his voice. He was almost gleeful as he showed her his pieces.

He’s gorgeous like this, she thought. To hide the heat that flooded through her, she dropped her gaze to the pieces that he was talking about. “This is beautiful,” she said, running her hands over the smooth shape of a half-formed saddle. It was a soft, buttery brown with a rich, red stitching.

He frowned at it. “I had this idea to do an embroidery of roses across the back housing, but it’s not quite coming out the way I want.”

“You’re going to finish it, right?”

Daryl shrugged. “It’s just a personal project,” he said. “I have a bunch for customers that need to come first.”

There was a sadness in his eyes that made her reach out and touch his hand. “Promise me that you’ll finish this,” she said. “It’s too beautiful to quit.”

That made him smile. “It may take me awhile to get back to it.”

“But?” she wheedled.

“But I’ll finish it,” he promised. “It’ll be just for you, Laura Jo.”

The way he said it—the soft, deep timbre of his voice—made her feel like she might just melt. “I could pay you—” But the sharp look he sent her way stopped the words in her throat.

“You’re already doing too much for me,” he told her.

Laura shrugged and patted at Lily’s back again. The baby snuffled against her but didn’t awaken. “Technically, I haven’t done anything yet,” she pointed out. “This could have all been an elaborate trick to trap you into a marriage.”

Daryl laughed. “If it is, then the joke’s on you,” he told her with a cheeky grin. “I have nothing to offer you but a mountain of debt.”

Laura touched the half-finished saddle again. He had more to offer than he thought he did: he had his passion. She could see how he looked when he’d walked into the workshop. Daryl loved it in here; he loved working with the leather and bending it into whatever shape he could imagine. She had never had something like that before. In college, she had studied marketing because her grandfather had encouraged it, thinking it was a suitable field for her. She’d enjoyed it but had never really felt passionate about it. And then, of course, after she’d gotten married, Clark hadn’t liked the idea of her working.

“I think this is great, Daryl,” she told him, hands still on the saddle. “You’re an artist.”

He shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, “but I’m a pretty shitty businessman.”

“I could help with that,” she said. The words flew from her mouth before she could swallow them back.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve handled fundraising for half a dozen charities at this point,” she said. “I’m pretty good at the organizing and managing thing.”

Daryl studied her for a moment, like he couldn’t quite believe that she was for real. “You would do that for me?”

The earnest, not-wanting-to-hurt-her expression was going to be the end of her. She could tell. “Of course,” she breathed out.

He nodded. “Thank you.” Then, he stepped into her space, just a little, and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her cheek. She had to bite back a gasp at the touch. “You know, this being married thing might not suck after all.” He winked at her, and it made her laugh and swat at him.

“You could do worse for a wife, Mr. Rivers,” she said. “I’ll have you know, I was one of the best fundraisers the Denver social scene had ever seen.”

They laughed, but Daryl gave her a profoundly fond look that made her heart skip in her chest.Don’t look at me like that, she silently begged.I can’t resist a look like that. Her mind sent her back to the kiss they shared at the courthouse. In spite of herself, she wanted to be kissed like that by him again. The laughter faded from his eyes, replaced by heat, and they stepped in to each other, but—

Lily stirred in the wrap and began to wail. Laura’s attention snapped to the small bundle against her chest. She sighed and patted at her. “She’s hungry,” she said, almost apologetically.

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