Midnight Faith. Gena Dalton

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СКАЧАТЬ worn smooth by much use and many hands, the gorgeous Western paintings and sculptures that had gradually come into the house over the years and now looked as if they’d been born there.

      This family had not moved out in the night when the rent was due. This family had not splintered into pieces and sent its children to live with the first relatives who would grudgingly take them.

      The long, deep nap that had erased her tiredness had left her senses all open and vulnerable. She trembled as she breathed in the cedar smell of the greenery Bobbie Ann had wrapped around the banister railing of the stairs. There was a strong scent of spices, too, because every few feet a bundle of cinnamon sticks and oranges studded with whole nutmegs were tied into the cedar with a big red bow.

      A marvelous Christmas that she’d never forget. That’s what John had promised her. And that’s what he would want her to have.

      She started walking down the hall, and passed Clint’s room. The door stood ajar, the light was out. He was already downstairs.

      Fine. Let him be anywhere he wanted. She didn’t have to talk to him. She wasn’t accepting any scorn tonight.

      Slowly she walked down the stairs, humming along with the song floating up from below. John had said that his sister Delia’s band always played for the dancing. Right now, though, it was a lone guitar playing “White Christmas.”

      Well, there was no chance of snow in the Hill Country tonight, but Cait didn’t care. She didn’t even need it. In fact, she didn’t want it. It would only remind her of the miserable Christmases of her childhood.

      Chatter and laughter rose, then, to drown out the guitar and to fill the whole downstairs. The doorbell rang again as Cait reached the first floor. And she could smell chili. Chili and tamales were the McMahan tradition on Christmas Eve.

      Company was the other McMahan tradition. There were six or seven families who had all been friends for generations, and they and any Christmas guests of theirs came to the Rocking M for appetizers and drinks before dinner on Christmas Eve. Probably, in the next two hours, at least a hundred people would come and go from this house.

      LydaAnn’s trilling laugh sounded above the din of greetings called out by a dozen different voices. Bobbie Ann demanded that all the guests take off their coats and stay awhile.

      Christmas had arrived at the Rocking M.

      Cait lingered at the bottom of the stairs, kicking out so she could see her new, custom-made-in-Dallas-by-Matteo black boots. Matteo had created the design just for her: red roses and green, twining vines, carved to have layers and layers of petals and stems, plus white butterflies, all of it inlaid and stitched to perfection.

      Western boots with the old traditional high, slanted heels and pointed toes. She could have spent less and gotten a great new pair of English riding boots, which she truly needed, but then she wouldn’t feel so much like a Texan, would she?

      She grinned at her own silliness and started down the hall toward the huge living room full of people. Maybe no one would notice when she came in and she could just wander around and enjoy the tree and not have to make too much small talk.

      “Cait! My goodness! What a gorgeous blouse!”

      Bobbie Ann was coming out of the living room with her arms full of wraps and jackets of the guests. Cait went to help her.

      “And those boots! Oh! I have to see them. Hold up your skirt!”

      “It’s all your fault, Bobbie Ann,” Cait said. “You’ve been telling me to indulge myself, so I did.”

      Bobbie Ann’s bright blue eyes looked her over from top to toe.

      “You done good, girl,” she said, with an approving smile. “You look wonderful tonight.”

      She let Cait take half her load and led the way toward the master suite.

      “I bought this blouse, these boots and seven head of horses,” Cait said. “Did I indulge myself enough?”

      Bobbie Ann gave her husky chuckle.

      “No, but it’s a start,” she said. “I’ll take you shopping after Christmas and we’ll buy you a wardrobe for spring.”

      “I don’t want any more clothes,” Cait said quickly, although the very thought made her yearn to do it. “And I won’t have time, anyhow. As soon as I finish working for Roy every day, I’ll have to rush over here and protect my school—Clint is furious at the very idea of it.”

      “Clint needs a distraction,” Bobbie Ann said calmly. “He’s trying to work himself to death. Anything new is good for him.”

      They dumped the coats on the bed and Bobbie Ann turned to Cait with open arms.

      “Oh, Cait, I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.

      Cait’s heart leapt as they hugged. Clint might not want her here, but his mother truly did.

      “I’m glad, too,” she said. “Thanks for asking me for Christmas, Bobbie Ann.”

      “Thanks for coming.”

      Bobbie Ann stepped back and looked up into her eyes.

      “I couldn’t have borne it if you’d refused my invitation, Cait,” she said. “You’re all I have left of John.”

      She took Cait’s hand and led her toward the festivities then, but Cait’s heart had dropped into her new boots. Was that the only reason Bobbie Ann wanted her there? Did she not love her for herself at all?

      Clint stood in front of the fireplace talking to Pete Kirkland—well, listening to him would be more like it—and wondering how soon he could get away to circulate among the other guests. Delia’s band was playing, a lot of people were dancing and he needed to dance with Aunt Faylene because that had been their own private Christmas Eve ritual since he was ten years old.

      He also needed to be sure he had a good visit with Larry Matheson, because he was talking about breeding a couple of his best champion mares to the Rocking M’s new young cutting stallion, Trader Doc Bar. Larry was nothing if not stylish and a leader in the industry, and his enthusiastic support of the stallion could fill the stud’s book for next year and mark him as the up-and-coming best in the business. It was worth far more than any paid advertising ever could be.

      One thing he did not need to do was apologize to Cait. That would only encourage her to settle in here with her horses.

      He tried to covertly glance at his watch. It already felt as if this evening had lasted a year.

      Fortunately, just when he thought he couldn’t stay in one spot any longer, the doorbell rang and he excused himself from Pete to go to answer it. His parents’ lifetime friends, the Carmacks, and the twenty-two guests they were having for Christmas this year poured in through the door.

      Lorena Carmack laughed as she kissed Clint’s cheek.

      “They swarmed on us this time,” she said. “Aren’t you glad this tradition is only bring all your own guests for appetizers and drinks and not for dinner, too?”

      “Ma’s made enough chili for СКАЧАТЬ