Cathy Thacker - A Cowboy Under The Mistletoe

Hank shrugged. “What?”

Ally drummed her hand on the scarred wooden desktop. “Books on cattle or grass management. Data on the latest breeding practices. Or anything related to what he was supposed to be doing all along, which was building a cattle operation.”

Hank cocked his head. “He had a herd.”

“A small one that never amounted to much. You can see when you drive around the property how he let the land go to seed. There’s mesquite and cedar everywhere. And everyone knows you can never get rid of mesquite. Cut it down, and it comes right back up.”

“Hey. That’s not such a bad thing.” Hank set her father’s folders in one neat pile, on the far side of the desk. “All of that untamed brush has not only kept the topsoil intact, it’s added to the nutrient value.”

Ally scowled. “You’re just like him. You look at the land and you see value.”

Hank grinned. Clasping her hands in his, he stood and drew her to her feet. “I sure do. And you know what else I see?” He winked playfully, refusing to allow her glum mood to spread to him. “A promise I need to keep.”

The devilry in his blue eyes was almost as exciting as his lovemaking had been. “And what ‘promise’ would that be?” Ally found herself asking.

Hank picked up the half-dozen sprigs of mistletoe he had brought into the house, and clutched them in his fist. “Finding the perfect places to hang these.”

“YOU’RE SURE WE NEED six sprigs of mistletoe?” Ally asked as she and Hank set off to find the perfect spots to hang the holiday greenery.

Hank followed, admiring the view. There was no question Ally looked good in her chic city clothing, but she really filled out a pair of jeans and a sweater, too. “What number would you have us use?” He paused to secure one just inside his bedroom door.

Ally’s heavenward glance told him what she thought about the subtlety of that. “One.”

“But then-” Hank continued on down the hall, stopping at her bedroom door. He stepped inside the sanctuary that had been hers for the first eighteen years of her life, and tacked one there, too. “-You wouldn’t have one here.”

Merriment sparkled in her green eyes. “What makes you think I want mistletoe in my bedroom?”

Her teasing brought a smile to his face, too. She’d been so serious and bereft when she’d arrived at Mesquite Ridge the week before. It was good to see her loosening up and letting go of the grief and rigidity that had ruled her life prior to this holiday season. He winked again. “You never know when you might get the impulse to kiss someone. And need an excuse.”

Ally sauntered past him, leaving a trail of orange blossom perfume. “If I want to kiss someone, I don’t need an excuse.”

“Ah,” he said, thinking of the time when he would make love to her again, and get her to commit to more than just a momentary diversion or holiday fling. “Good to know.”

Electricity shimmered between them. Ignoring his instincts, which were to make love to her then and there, Hank continued on down the hall. Determined to give her the emotional space she seemed to need, and show her they could have a good time simply hanging out together, he stopped midway down the staircase and put one there, too.

“Now that’s an interesting place,” Ally murmured.

“Isn’t it?” Hank fantasized about having her beneath him, her arms and legs locked around his waist, and him so deep inside her he didn’t know where he ended and she began. He continued to the front door and placed one just above it, in the foyer. One of these days, they’d make love without the sale of the ranch, and what that might or might not mean, between them… One day soon, he’d be able to tell her how he really felt…

Oblivious to the passionate, possessive nature of his thoughts, Ally tilted her head. She studied the decoration over the portal, decreeing whimsically, “Not as original, cowboy.”

Loving the way the unexpected endearment sounded rolling off her lips, Hank pressed the remaining greenery in her hand, relishing the soft, silky feel of her palm. “There’s two left. Knock yourself out.”

“Hmm.” Accepting his humorous challenge, Ally sauntered off.

She paused next to the unadorned but fragrant Scotch pine and looked around. Then, grinning, she hurried across the room and stopped in the doorway between the living room and the hall that led to the kitchen and mudroom. “How about right here?”

“Expecting an earthquake?” Hank quipped.

“Door frames can be nice to lean against-” she batted her eyelashes flirtatiously “-should you want to lean, of course.”

Hank liked this side of Ally. She was incredibly uninhibited and playful, deep down. The problem was that side of her didn’t surface all that much. So far. If he had his way, that would change as readily as their relationship. “One left.”

“Obviously, we know where that will go.” Ally sashayed on down the hall and into the big country kitchen.

The plastic baby pool that served as a whelping pen had been pushed to one side of the room. Duchess lay contentedly on the blanket lining it, her back against the side. The warming box, which contained all eleven puppies, was nestled beside the mother dog.

As Ally approached, Duchess lifted her head and thumped her tail happily.

Smiling in return, Ally handed the remaining sprig to Hank. “This should go in this room because you never know when one of us is going to want to kiss Duchess or a puppy.”

Hank chuckled. He got out the step stool and fastened the mistletoe in the center of the eight-foot ceiling. “How’s that?”

Ally stopped petting Duchess long enough to study the result. “Perfect.”

“Maybe we should try it out.”

“You’re right.” Ally gave the dog a final pat and turned her attention to the pile of slumbering puppies. She picked up the tiniest one and lifted her gently to her chest. “This one definitely needs a kiss.”

Hank chuckled. “I’ll make sure I give her one,” he drawled. “But first this…” He wrapped his arms around Ally and, being careful not to squish Gracie, capture Ally’s lips with a tender kiss that conveyed everything he was feeling and could not say.

She kissed him back just as ardently.

When he finally lifted his head and looked into her eyes, she nudged him with her knee. “You are so bad.”

“You haven’t experienced the half of it.” They exchanged sexy grins.

Hank felt a surge of heat, content to wait. But it turned out his competition for Ally’s attention was not.

The puppy lapped at her hand with her little pink tongue, let out a familiar squeak of hunger and began to squirm.

Smiling tenderly, Ally tore her gaze from Hank’s. She glanced down, then gasped. “Oh my gosh, Hank! Look at this!”

“Her eyes are open!” Ally cried in amazement. She had grown used to seeing the puppies in constant play, with their eyes shut tight. Being able to look into Gracie’s dark eyes forged yet another unexpected yet highly emotional connection. To the point that Ally knew leaving her was going to be excruciatingly hard.

For Hank, too, judging by the depth of affection on his handsome face. He came closer and leaned in for a better look. “Right on schedule, too.” He grinned triumphantly, then turned to Ally, his warm breath brushing her face. “I told you that Gracie might be little, but she’s mighty.”

Ally glowed with pride, knowing that just ten days ago the pup nearly hadn’t made it, and now she was leading the pack in development. Except…Ally frowned. “She doesn’t seem to be focusing.”

Hank brushed a gentle hand over Gracie’s soft head and scratched her lovingly behind the ears. “She won’t be able to track an object for another two weeks, but between now and then, she’ll see a little more every day.”

Ally’s spirits took a nosedive as the realization hit. “Unfortunately, I won’t be with her when she can see more than a blur when she looks at me. I’ll be back in Houston. With or without a job…trying to put together my life there.” Ally’s face crumpled as another wave of sadness moved through her. “Gracie will never really get to know me.” She blinked back tears. “Not the way I’ve come to know-and love-her.”

Hank wrapped a comforting arm about Ally’s shoulders. He kissed the top of her head and flashed her a consoling smile. “She knows and loves you.”

Ally luxuriated in his tenderness, even as she questioned his assertion. “How? Puppies’ ears are closed when they’re born, too. It takes several weeks before they can hear a loud noise. According to the handouts your cousin gave us, their lack of vision and hearing is Mother Nature’s way of insuring they get enough sleep in the newborn phase.”

Hank’s eyes glimmered. “But their other senses-touch, smell, and taste-are there from the outset. Trust me on this, Ally.” He tightened his grip on her protectively. “Gracie knows you, same as she knows her mama.”

Ally supposed that was true.

Which made leaving the tiny puppy all the harder.

Ally blinked back a tear as Hank knelt beside the box. The other puppies were beginning to waken, squeaking and swimming and rolling around in the search for their mother. A few more were trying to open their eyes, too.

His expression unbearably sweet, Hank lifted them one by one and put them next to Duchess to nurse. Reluctantly, Ally settled Gracie against Duchess, too, then went to prepare a supplemental bottle of puppy formula.

Not that Gracie seemed to need the extra calories as much anymore, as she was able to nurse alongside her littermates, with nearly as much vigor…

Hank held the last puppy to wake up, cradling and petting him while he awaited his turn to nurse. Duchess lay contentedly, keeping one eye on the puppy Hank held, and watching over the others snuggled at her side.