Page 27 of Cowboy's Christmas Wife

“I never trusted Clark,” she repeated, practically whispering the words. “I loved him—but I didn’t trust him. Not really. He was so much like my grandfather; he had this idea of what a wife should be, and I did my best to mold myself to it, but…it was never right. I was educated but never allowed to use that education unless it benefitted him. He always ‘took care’ of things, but only until it became frustrating, or he lost interest. I had to be perfectly pleasant with his family, but he was downright rude to my college friends after we were married until all of them gradually stopped keeping in touch.” She took in a shuttering breath. “I always knew that he was capable of hurting me, but I hoped for so long that he wouldn’t…and then he did.”

Daryl very obviously didn’t know what to say, but she could tell that he was angry by the clench of his fists. “You may have to keep me from punching him at the hearing,” he said.

“You won’t,” she said. “You wouldn’t do anything to hurt my chances.”

“You’re so sure of that?”

Laura shrugged. “I trust you,” she said and meant it. She did trust Daryl; that was precisely the problem. She knew that he would run to her rescue whenever she needed, but she didn’twantsomeone to rescue her. She needed to be able to rescue herself.

Daryl looked at her with an unreadable expression. “Do you trust me, Laura, or do youwantto trust me?”

“Why does that matter?”

“It matters,” he insisted.

Laura sighed. “I trust you,” she said. “I know that you wouldn’t hurt me just like I knew that Clark would.”

Daryl kissed her, soft and unbearably sweet. “I will try my best not to hurt you,” he promised. “I would do anything in my power.”

She touched his face. “I know.”

He smiled, and she could feel the movement of his mouth against her hand. She thought about kissing him again—maybe even more than just kiss him—but she held back. Now wasn’t the time. “Let me show you how to fix this,” he said, gesturing toward the toilet. “Just in case it happens again. You never know when Lily might flush a bunny or something.”

A laugh bubbled up in her chest. “True,” she said.

Daryl showed her how to snake the drain: he had her practice and told her what to look for and feel for with the line. It wasn’t pleasant, but she appreciated the lesson. Clark would never show her how to do something like this. Well, Clark would never actually know how to do something like this—when something went wrong with the plumbing, he would just call a plumber. But the one time she tried to chat with the plumber, to ask for advice on maintenance and how to keep problems from cropping up, Clark had shooed her away from the man, telling her that she was just getting in the way and that she shouldn’t worry “her pretty little head” about such matters.

When Daryl felt confident that she knew what she was doing, he stepped back and had her snake the drain again, completely on her own. She held onto what he told her and fed the wire into the drain. It was clear, but she felt her way through the curves of the pipe regardless. When she came to the end of the line, she brought it up like he had shown her how to do. “And now you can snake a toilet drain,” he said. “It works the same way in sink drains.”

Laura nodded and felt an odd sort of feeling in her gut.Is this what triumph feels like? Or pride, maybe?“Thank you for showing me how to do that,” she said.

Daryl kissed her forehead, right between her eyebrows. “Anytime, Laura Jo,” he told her. Although it was a sweet gesture, something about it burned her up inside. She felt belittled despite Daryl not trying to belittle her. He wasn’t being cruel; he wasn’t poking fun. So why was she so bothered by that little peck of a kiss?

It reminds me how weak that I am, her mind whispered treacherously to her. The thought came from the smallest, most insecure part of her mind. It was the part that she tried to push down. It had grown large and loud while she lived with Clark, but she had done her best to squash it and keep it at bay ever since she had left him. It was the part of herself that hated the fact that Daryl had been able to solve the problem with the toilet in less than an hour when she had worked on it for most of the morning. It was the part of herself that was embarrassed that she had to be shown how to snake a drain at all, despite the fact that she had never even seen it done before.

She needed to be able to figure this stuff out on her own: she needed to be able to make decisions and get results without a man because once she had full access to the money in her trust fund, she didn’t plan on needing anyone ever again. Even if she wanted Daryl so badly that it hurt. She couldn’t and wouldn’t keep him. She’d get the trust fund, she’d save his ranch, and they’d go their separate ways. Still…she tipped her head up, and he kissed her lips again. “Want to test the shower to see if it’s working?” she asked.

Confusion colored his features for a split second, and then he grinned. “Of course,” he said. “Just to make sure that everything is in working order.”

Laura nodded. “Of course,” she echoed. Their mouths met, and Daryl kicked the bathroom door shut with his foot.

SIXTEEN

Daryl wiped the sweat from his eyes. Despite it being early December in the middle of Colorado, it was unseasonably warm, and his leather shop was stifling. He glanced at the clock on his phone for what felt like the thousandth time. It was 4:00 PM; he was supposed to meet Laura and Lily at the house for dinner around 5:30, and he had more to do on this saddle before he could go in.

The news segment had been incredible for orders, and Laura’s system with the website was keeping them organized for him. If he had a multi-man operation, it would be great, but it was just him and the mountain of projects. While he knew what day things were due and had left room on his calendar so that he could space them out and take his time, Daryl was still exhausted. If the leatherwork was the only thing on his plate, then it wouldn’t be that bad. But when he wasn’t in this shop, he was out on the ranch with Kyle, or at Laura’s house tackling one of those hundreds of projects. Laura had asked him if he was taking on too much, and he insisted that he wasn’t…but now he wasn’t sure.

He looked down at the saddle he was working on and swore out loud. He was working on the pommel, shaping it, but he’d bent the leather and held it for too long. The shape wasn’t right, and once-shaped, leather wasn’t so easy to shape again. It was a waste of leather, and this particular leather wasn’t cheap to buy. “Damn it.” He threw the saddle onto the reject pile. “Damn it, damn it,damn it.” He had to stop himself from throwing things. He was already going to be out a couple hundred bucks to buy more leather, not counting the value of his wasted time—and he couldn’t afford to break or damage anything else.

Feeling overwhelmingly hot, Daryl had to step out of his shop. The sun was already dipping low in the sky; he’d need to get back to the main house. Laura and Lily would be waiting on him, and he honestly needed a break. Kyle drove up on a gator and parked next to Daryl. “Hey,” he greeted.

“You sound shitty,” Kyle said by way of greeting. “What’s wrong?”

Daryl waved his hand in frustration. “I messed up on Mr. Ramirez’s saddle,” he said. “The leather isn’t going to be cheap to replace; I’ll probably lose on this job.”

Kyle let out a hissing breath. “Damn, dude. What happened?”

“I’m tired, and making dumbass mistakes,” he said, and then felt bad even saying the words out loud in front of Kyle. His younger brother had taken on so much himself so that Daryl could make his side business work. “Sorry, I—”

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