Page 39 of Cowboy's Christmas Wife

Daryl slammed the dishwasher shut. “I’ve got to meet Caleb,” he muttered, hoping that Kyle would have enough sense to leave it the hell alone.

He left the house and took the gator out to the far pasture where Caleb was checking on the cattle. They had a vet appointment in a week or so, and it helped to know which of the cattle needing tending to first. He found the younger man in the field with a work shirt bundled in his arms. “Caleb?” Daryl jumped out of the gator. “What’s that?”

Caleb unwrapped the work shirt to reveal a tiny calf, maybe only a few hours old. “It’s early for calves,” Daryl said.

“I know. This one was definitely not planned,” Caleb said. “I’m not sure who he belongs to—just found him crying in a heap.” He patted the calf’s head gently.

“You think he’ll make it?” Calves born out of sync like this—and then abandoned—didn’t always stand the best chance. Daryl thought maybe twenty-five percent of them made it through the winter, and that was only if they could find the mother and get her to nurse, or they found a substitute.

Caleb touched the calf’s head again. “I don’t know,” he said. “I thought I might look after the little guy.” He looked up at Daryl. “If you don’t mind.”

Daryl shook his head. “Not at all. He’s all yours.” The ranch hand smiled and thanked him. “Anything particular we need to get done today?”

“We finished up with the fence repairs yesterday, so other than checking the herd, there’s nothing too pressing.”

Daryl’s mind shot to the pile of projects in his workshop that needed attending to. “You think you and your new friend there can handle it today? I’ve got some things I should probably get finished.”

Caleb nodded. “Sure thing, boss.”

“If you need anything, just call me.” The ranch hand tipped his hat, and Daryl took the gator and sped to his workshop.

On the drive back, Daryl hoped that he would find some sense of peace in his workshop, but when he got there, all he saw was a mountain of work that needed to be tackled. He pulled out the saddle that he’d been working on—the one he was making for Laura had been shoved deep into the pile—and he settled at his table to work on the delicate stitching.

He did lose himself in the repetitive motions of his hands as he worked the leather through the industrial sewing machine, and after a few hours, the saddle was finished. He put oil on a cloth and buffed the black leather until it shined.Beautiful piece, he thought, but instead of feeling accomplished like he normally would, he just felt neutral. Not bad, per se, but there wasn’t any joy either.

Just as he was finishing up, the door to the workshop squeaked open. “Daryl?”

It was Georgina; he turned to look at her. “How’d Kyle’s appointment go?”

She shrugged. “Stitches came out, and his skin didn’t open back up, so I guess that’s good. They still want him to rest for a few more days, but then, he’ll be back in fighting shape.”

No permanent damage, he thought with relief. He had been damned lucky; Daryl would never forgive himself if Kyle had been more seriously hurt. He could barely forgive himself now, despite both of his siblings telling him to let it go. “Good,” he said. “Thanks for taking him.”

She smiled. “What are worry-wart older sisters for?” Her words had their desired effect: Daryl smiled. “The girls were wondering when Uncle Daryl was going to come help us put the Christmas tree up,” she said. Daryl could see that she was trying to find a reason to stick around.Just get on with whatever you want to say, he thought. He shrugged noncommittally to her. They always put the tree up the week before Christmas every year. Their mother hadn’t been one of those “Christmas” people. She loved decorations for the short while before and after the holiday, but it would be all taken down on New Year’s Day. It was its own kind of tradition in a way. He watched as her eyes drifted to his work table, and she let out a little gasp. “Daryl, that’s gorgeous!”

He glanced down at the saddle, and still, he felt no thrill. “Thanks,” he said.

Daryl could feel her staring at him. “Did it not come out the way you were hoping?”

“It came out just fine,” Daryl said.

“But you aren’t happy?” He shrugged, and Georgina let out an exasperated sound. It reminded him so much of Kyle this morning that his guard went up.

“You’ve been talking to Kyle,” he accused.

Georgina smacked him on the arm. “Of course I have, moron,” she said, but the worry in her eyes softened the blow and her words. “You’re miserable, and we can both see it.”

Daryl shook his head. “I’m not miserable.”

“You are,” Georgina insisted. He watched her pace back and forth. She ran her hands over a few of the machines in his small space. When Laura had been here and done the same, he had enjoyed her presence into his inner sanctum. With Georgina, he wished that she would leave. Immediately. “You’re burying your head in the sand about Laura,” she said after a moment, gesturing around at the shop. “You figure if you bury yourself in working Kyle’s jobs on the ranch and your projects in here, you’ll eventually forget about her.”

Why does she have to be so damned perceptible?“I’m not trying to forget Laura Jo,” he said, even as he winced saying her name. “Her leaving was always how the story was going to end. It’s nothing I wasn’t expecting. And it’s fine. She got her freedom from her ex, and I got to keep the bank from foreclosing on the ranch. This is what we both wanted.”

Georgina scoffed. “I don’t know what you’ve done with my younger brother,” she said, “but I’d like him back, please.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve always been a passionate guy, Daryl,” she said, “but you’ve been trying so hard since Kyle’s accident to shut that down, to just do things by the book, without pouring your heart into it.”

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