The Christmas She Always Wanted. Stella Bagwell

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СКАЧАТЬ years, discussing his marriage to and divorce from another woman. It was like a ridiculous scene out of a soap opera. And it was angering her like nothing had ever angered her before.

      When she finally managed to speak, bitterness coated each word. “You’re right. Nothing can change things now.”

      His features twisted. “Evette was the sort that wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted. And then the game was over.”

      Is that what Jubal had been to the mayor’s daughter? A game? A pawn? The idea made Angela feel even sicker.

      “What about your child? Does he or she live with you or Evette?”

      Suddenly his face was a mask of cold stone and when he answered, Angela felt as though she’d been punched by a fist.

      “She lost the baby midterm. There was a problem with the placenta.”

      Oh, God. How utterly awful. Not just for Jubal, but for Angela, too. She’d given up this man so that he could marry Evette and be a father to the baby the other woman was carrying. Now he was telling her that the baby hadn’t survived.

      Angie hadn’t believed her heart was capable of breaking any more than it already had, but she’d been wrong. At the moment, it was tearing into tiny, throbbing pieces.

      “I don’t know what to say, Jubal,” she said, her voice hardly above a whisper. “That I’m sorry for you? Sorry for me? Sorry for the whole damn bunch of us? Telling you how I feel right now is…impossible!”

      Shaking her head, she turned to her car. “I’d better go,” she muttered more to herself than to him.

      Jubal couldn’t let her go. For the past five years, she’d haunted his days and nights. He’d tried to forget her, tried to tell himself that it was best he let her get on with her life. But that hadn’t stopped him from wondering where she’d gone and agonizing over what could have been if things had worked out differently. Tonight when Jubal had looked up and seen her, his heart had somersaulted. Even now, he wanted to touch her, to make sure she was real and not one of his tortured dreams.

      “Angie, wait! We haven’t—can’t we talk a little more?”

      “About what?” she asked flatly.

      She was even more lovely now, Jubal realized, as his gaze wandered over her. Her heart-shaped face was more lean and angled, her small features more pronounced. He didn’t remember her ivory skin being so smooth and pearly, her brown eyes so dark and sultry or her pink lips so full and lush. But then time dimmed everything, he supposed. Except the regret he carried around his heart like a ball and chain. And the passion he still felt for her. As for Angie—she’d loved him deeply once. Were all those feelings truly gone?

      He cleared his throat. “Where have you been living all this time?”

      Shortly after their relationship had ended, he’d heard that Angela had left town and he’d assumed that she’d moved totally out of the area. How bittersweet to find her so close and yet still so far away.

      She glanced over her shoulder at him and he could see from the tight clamp of her lips that she didn’t want to talk to him. It crushed him to think that the love she’d once given him was now nothing more than dead ashes buried beneath a heap of anger.

      “I’ve been living in Goliad for the past five years.”

      She’d been living only thirty minutes away from him! It amazed Jubal that they’d not accidentally crossed paths before now. And if he’d known she was actually that close, would he have gone looking for her? No. He didn’t want to think so. He’d made his choice to marry Evette and then struggled to stick with the forced union. Walking away from Angela had been incredibly hard. If he’d seen her in that awful year when he was trying to make things work with Evette, he might not have had the strength to walk away again. And after their marriage had ended, he’d felt like a complete loser. He’d convinced himself that Angie was much better off without him and the baggage of horrible mistakes he carried around with him.

      “Oh,” he said. “Guess you’ve had time to get to know a lot of people around here.”

      “A few. The Saddlers and Sanchezes are some of the best.”

      In spite of her work clothes and weary face, she looked utterly beautiful and Jubal felt himself moving forward, closer to the woman who’d irrevocably changed his life.

      “I guess I’m trying to ask if you’re married now?”

      For a split second he saw a spark in her eyes as though she wanted to jump straight at him with claws bared, but then just as quickly her face went eerily placid and she quickly glanced away from him.

      “No,” she said bluntly. “I’m still single. Not that it’s any of your business. And right now I really do have to get home.”

      By the time she’d opened the driver’s door, Jubal was at her side, his hand curling around her arm. The moment he touched her, she jerked as though he’d shot her with a bullet. As for Jubal, he couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so completely shaken, so aware of another human being in his life. She was single! The news shouldn’t mean anything to him. But hope was surging through him like a ray of sunshine amidst thunderclouds, and he wanted to cling to it. The same way he wanted to cling to her.

      “Angie,” he said in a low, raspy voice, “I’m sorry about tonight. Sorry about all the pain and mess I put you through with Evette.”

      She closed her eyes, as though to shut him out of her sight. All Jubal wanted to do was pull her into his arms.

      “I don’t want to hear it, Jubal. Your apologies are too little, too late.”

      Jubal felt sick inside. She’d once trusted him completely. She’d once looked up to him, respected him. Loved him. Oh, how he wanted that Angie again. Would he ever see that loving woman again?

      Biting back a sigh, he tried to be diplomatic. “Look Angie, with both of us working here, don’t you think we should try to be civil to each other?”

      Her eyes fluttered open and her cold stare bored straight into him. “The Sandbur is a huge ranch. It’s not likely we’ll be running into each other that much.”

      In other words, she didn’t want to have anything to do with him. But then, what did he expect? He’d hurt her badly. He didn’t deserve her civility or respect. But he wanted it. And wanted her.

      “Not likely, but possible,” he said. “A few days ago, I moved into the house below the north hill.”

      A lifeless smile tilted her lips. “Good for you. I live here on the ranch, too. In the house where Darla Ketchum and her daughter Raine used to live. So now we both know the spots to avoid. And as far as I’m concerned, I’d be a happy woman if I never saw you again. So stay away from me! Got it?”

      Her cutting words were bad enough, but it was the callous sarcasm with which she spoke them that shoved Jubal in the wrong direction. He probably did deserve her scorn, but he hated to hear that coldness in her voice. He wanted to bring her back to life, to spark in her the same desire that had been burgeoning inside him from the first moment he’d spotted her tonight in the Saddler living room.

      Before he could consider his actions, СКАЧАТЬ