Page 40 of Cowboy's Christmas Wife

“What’s wrong with that?” he argued. “Pouring my heart into things had me making mistakes. It led to people getting hurt.”Including me.

“But Daryl, don’t you see? That’s why there’s no joy for you in here.”

Her words sank in and lodged themselves under his skin. “I’ve always been passionate about this,” he said, gesturing to the workshop around them. “So, Sherlock, why do I dread coming out here anymore? It’s not the projects: I’ve always had a stack of things to do, and it’s never bothered me before.”

Georgina gave him a sad smile. “You still love this,” she said. “But now you’re approaching it in the wrong way.”

Daryl threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “Yes,” he spat out. “I know. I always do everything wrong.I get it,okay? How many times did you tell me that I got too wrapped up in things? That it gave me tunnel vision? That I ignored what was important to focus on what I was passionate about? And now that I’m trying not to do that anymore, now that I’m thinking things through and doing what needs to be done, you’re still not happy?”

Georgina approached him and put her hands on his shoulders; it was like he was a kid again, and she was going to deliver some “big sister wisdom. “You’re my little brother, and I love you,” she said. “That will never, ever change. But right now, I’m not happy becauseyou’renot happy. Do you really think this is what I wanted? For you to turn into some kind of automaton, sticking to a schedule and going through the motions and not feeling anything?”

“So before, I felt too much and now I don’t feel enough?”

“Yes,” she said, quietly but with force. “The problem before wasn’t that you led with your heart. And the problem now isn’t that you’re leading with your head. It’s that you’re picking one over the other. You need both in your life—you need structure and schedules but you also need passion…and joy. The trick is finding a balance between the two. One that makes you happy. With thepersonwho makes you happy and who helps keep you balanced. Understand?”

No. Yes. Maybe. He honestly wasn’t sure. All he knew was that nothing had felt in balance about his life since she had left. And if she stayed gone, he didn’t know if it ever would again. “I have a lot of thinking to do.”

Georgina poked him in the chest. “Feeling too,” she reminded.That is thelastthing I want to do, he groused to himself. But Daryl knew that she was right. He had to use both his head and his heart to find a way to make this right.

TWENTY-FOUR

Laura had been so happy to pick a tree from the Christmas tree lot until she got it home. It was a little too large for the small living room, and when she dug out the Christmas decorations that had been in the attic all these years, she realized that she wouldn’t have enough to cover even a third of the tree.

She looked at Lily, who was lying on her interactive mat in front of the television, watching cartoon cats croon out lullabies. “I’m not sure this is going to work,” she said. She looked back at the tree. “What are we going to do with you?”

An idea formed in Laura’s mind: it was Lily’s first Christmas, and she wanted it to be something special. Something just for the two of them. She looked around at the boxes that were stacked everywhere and located the one that she’d shoved some of her crafting supplies and old photo albums into. This year, she would make special frames holding special pictures of Lily and also pictures from Laura’s childhood and hang them all over the tree.

She sat on the floor by Lily and started flipping through all of her old photos. The ones of Lily were stored on her phone—she would have to find a print lab to get those—but she could at least pick them all out today so that she could start designing frames. The album in her hands was from before her parents died. She smiled as she flipped through the pages, at the pictures of her own smiling face much younger than she ever remembered being. She pulled out a picture of her parents, holding her as an infant. “You see them, Lily my love?” she asked, holding out the picture for Lily to see. The baby looked at her, but she didn’t seem particularly impressed. “Those are your grandparents. They would have loved you more than all the stars in the sky, just like I do.” She sucked in a breath; her chest was suddenly tight. Her parents were never far from her mind, but it had been a long while since she’d looked through the old albums and seen actual pictures of them. In the first pictures of her as a baby, her parents were young—even younger than Laura was now—but she could see the love all over their faces. Page after page of moments where their love practically leapt from the pictures.It’s nice to have a reminder that love can actually work, she thought as she absently touched the page.

She picked up another album, and the Laura in these photos was older—school age. She had a grin that was missing baby teeth. Flipping through the page, there was her and Daryl, standing in front of the tree that used to be in her backyard, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders. A laugh that hiccupped into a sob rose in her throat, and she reached out to touch the image of a young Daryl. He was a smidge shorter than her—this had to be the summer before she moved away from Windy Creek—but his eyes were the same steely blue. “Daryl was a looker even then,” Laura told Lily, showing her the picture. She snorted and shook her head. “Too bad I was too blind to see it until it was too late.”

Laura meant to tuck the photo back beneath its protective cover, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.I’ll make it a frame, she thought. If she hung it on the tree, who would know but her? Besides, she and Daryl would be able to be friends again when the awkwardness between them had settled again. They would be able to see each other in town and smile, maybe get a cup of coffee together. Eventually, right? “Mama may have messed up,” she confessed to Lily. “I might have lost the best friend I ever had.” She looked at the baby. “Besides you, of course.” The days since she’d left the ranch had shown her how wrong she’d been to end things the way she had. Yes, their romantic relationship had needed to come to a close, but the angry words she’d spat out were not the way she’d wanted it to go. She hated that she was the cause of this tension and silence between them. Above everything else, she missed her friend.

Once she’d culled the pictures that she wanted to turn into ornaments from the albums, she grabbed her phone to find the pictures of Lily that she wanted. While the beginning of her album was infant pictures, the more recent pictures of Lily make her think of Daryl immediately. She didn’t realize just how many pictures they’d taken together over the last few months, and if he wasn’t in the pictures directly, she knew that he was the one who took them.

The last picture made her stomach clench. It was a candid shot that she’d taken without thinking. Daryl had been laying on the couch—they were trying to watch a movie—and Lily was sprawled on his chest, sleeping peacefully tucked against his heart. It had been a sweet moment that she’d captured. Even though it broke her heart, she knew that this would make it onto her tree too.

She didn’t know it until a teardrop landed with a wetploponto her phone that she was crying. She wiped at her face absently, eyes still glued to the picture of the two most important people in the world. “Lily, I’ve never really told you about your father,” she murmured, “because I don’t really think of you as having one. Clark was never going to be the kind of man who would take you to the park or to the aquarium; he’s not the kind of guy who would play tea party with you.” She sniffled and wiped at her cheek again. “You deserve that kind of daddy, Lily. You deserve the kind of daddy who would love you with everything that he is, and that was never going to be Clark Longbottom.” She groaned aloud. “God, I will never forgive myself for nearly saddling you with that last name. I am so sorry.”Lily Rivers has a nice ring to it, her mind whispered to her, traitorous thing that it was.

Laura had to get up; she had to stop wallowing like this. “Come on,” she said, pocketing her phone and picking Lily up. The baby made a squeaky noise of contentment, and she smiled. Lily had been smiling more and more recently; each one made Laura light up a little inside. “Let’s go get these printed, and we’ll start making our decorations.”

Lily made another little squeaking noise that Laura decided was in agreement. They drove downtown to the pharmacy, and she used the kiosk in the back corner to print the pictures from her phone. While they were waiting for everything to print, she and Lily wandered the aisles. She picked up some snacks—crafting required Doritos, after all—and when she turned down the art supplies aisle, she grabbed some popsicle sticks and paint.

When their prints were done, she picked them up and headed to the front to pay for everything. As she was handing the cashier her debit card, the door opened, and Georgina breezed in. Of course, she spotted her right away; Laura froze. “Ma’am?” the cashier said, trying to hand her the receipt. “Ma’am? Your receipt?”

Laura jolted. “Sure,” she said, looking back at the cashier. “Yes, thank you.” She took the proffered paper and stuffed it into her pocket.

When she turned to make her exit, Georgina was still standing there, waiting for her. Laura threw back her shoulders and put a smile on her face. “Hey, Georgina,” she said. “How’ve you been?”

She quirked an eyebrow at her. “That’s all you have to say to me?”

Laura immediately tensed; she was on the defensive before she even realized it. “What else am I supposed to say?” she shot back.

“My brother is a mess over you.” The words weren’t exactly kind, but the tone wasn’t full of malice. If anything, Georgina looked concerned. “And I have the sneaking suspicion that you’re a mess too.”

Lady, you don’t know the half of it. She shrugged, going for casual. “I’m fine, Georgina,” she said. “Daryl and I are adults, and we’ve made our decisions. When the awkwardness is done, we’ll find a way to be friends again.”

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?”

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