Christmas in Texas Read online

“That I had Christmastown to set up, and that Dr. Blankenship is overprotective. I’ve known him since I was a child. He’s always been from the old school of medicine.” She tried to lever herself off the table, and both men jumped to assist her.

  “No,” Dr. Blankenship said. “Capri, these babies are going to come early if you don’t stay off your feet. And the longer they stay in you, the better off they will be. Do you want them inside you growing and getting the nourishment they need naturally, or do you want to take precious time from them? They could end up with immature lungs or other complications,” he warned, his gray eyes filled with disapproval.

  “All right. You’re right. Of course you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Tears jumped into Capri’s eyes, stunning Seagal. He’d seen Capri cry once, maybe, in all the years he’d known her. Doc Blankenship handed her a tissue, which she took gratefully, blowing her nose. “I’ve never been the kind of person to lie around.”

  “I know.” The doctor looked at her with the first bit of a smile he’d worn in the past half hour. “But going ninety to nothing isn’t going to benefit you or the babies. You can press Kelly into service for help with the wedding arrangements, can’t you?” He regarded Seagal cautiously. “Are you back in town for good now?”

  “Yes,” Seagal said, stressing the word with a glance at his wife.

  Capri looked away, fidgeting with her tissue.

  “Then you stay on her,” Doc Blankenship said. “It’s absolutely critical that Capri remain at home in bed. I should have forced her on this issue last week, but she assured me she was fine.”

  “I am fine,” Capri said. “Or I was until last night.”

  “Clearly I returned not a moment too soon.” Whether she liked it or not, he intended to be a pain-in-the-butt nurse, sticking to her like glue.

  He knew Capri would resent his intrusion. Resist his efforts to take care of her. She’d barely accepted his role as bodyguard; bodyguard with a nursing specialty she’d like even less.

  But she was still his wife. And he loved her, even if she thought she was over him.

  Chapter Three

  “Comfy?” Seagal asked Capri after he’d taken her home, given her a scolding in his overbearing I’m-taking-charge-now, I’m-a-cop, this-is-what-I-do-best tone, and then tucked her in her bed.

  Their bed.

  She glowered at him. “This isn’t going to work. I want you to call Kelly and tell her to hire someone to help me. It doesn’t need to be all the time, for heaven’s sake.”

  “For when I’m out of the house.” Seagal nodded as if her suggestion made sense. “Good idea. I’ll call her now.”

  “No,” Capri said, trying not to snap at him. He was just too big, too good-looking, overpowering the small bedroom where they’d spent many happy hours.

  “I don’t want you here. You’re going to drive me insane.”

  “Well, that is a personal problem, I believe,” Seagal said, dragging one of her pretty upholstered chairs into the bedroom. “I would drive you insane no matter what, so I might as well go for broke.” He flung himself into the stuffed, sweetly patterned chair that went with the floral sofa that had so offended his masculine sensibilities. “You covered these chairs. They were denim blue. Now they’re—”

  “Toile,” Capri said, knowing he wouldn’t know what that meant. “To go with the floral sofa and the delft-blue paint on the walls, the delicate gold-foil mirror over the white fireplace mantel, and the special cushions I had made for the two ladderback chairs. Sort of country-French appeal I call it.” She smiled at him. “It’s a feminine room. Not a place for hanging deer heads and hunting rifles.”

  “I know.” He grimaced. “And you changed the comforter on the bed. It’s lacy.”

  “And white.” Capri enjoyed Seagal’s perplexed expression. “I gave up the masculine decorating scheme after you left.”

  He looked at her. “We’ll discuss that another time. You just rest right now. You need the rest, and so do my sons. Clearly, you aren’t any better at obeying doctor’s orders than you are a husband’s.”

  She tossed a pillow at him, catching him in the face. “Don’t go all pigheaded to try to get me off the subject. Call Kelly.”

  “You’ll hardly notice I’m here. I’m serving a dual role that none of your girlfriends can fulfill.”

  “Annoying me and wearing out the new furnishings?” She smiled sweetly. “As I said, this isn’t going to work. You’re too bossy—”

  “And you’re stubborn as heck. What woman thinks decorating for Christmastown is more important than her own babies?” Seagal demanded. “You always said that my responsible side weighed your flighty side.”

  “But I didn’t necessarily mean that it was a good thing.” Capri thought about it. “To be honest, Dr. Blankenship didn’t say I absolutely had to go to bed last week, Seagal. He said it would be best, and that he preferred to err on the side of caution. You know John Blankenship,” she said, trying to make him see she wasn’t being reckless with her pregnancy. “He advises most of the town to stay away from the Wedding Happy Bakery because he says the magic in their secret batters is guaranteed to clog arteries just from looking at the cookies and cakes. He’s a fine doctor, but he’s been known to be a bit of an alarmist.”

  “Maybe. But not where babies are concerned. He’s seriously planning to send a nurse out here with a drip if your contractions don’t go away.” He studied her, not happily. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that I’m here for the long haul, babe.”

  “I don’t think so,” Capri said, knowing steam was probably pouring out of her ears. If Seagal thought he was just going to waltz back into her life and start being an overbearing donkey, he could just go bray elsewhere. “Hand me the phone.”

  He got up, seemed to consider her words, then paced down the hall. “We’ll continue this discussion in a moment.”

  “He acts as if I didn’t take care of myself for the past several months.” Capri reached for the phone on her bedside table, finally hooking it with the aid of a slipper she pulled off her foot. She dialed Kelly’s number.

  Kelly’s cheerful voice shouted a hello. Capri switched the phone to her other ear, hoping the eardrum wasn’t bruised. “I need a favor.”

  “What?”

  “Doc Blankenship’s put me on bed rest. As in, don’t move a fingernail.”

  “Oh, man. You are going to lose your mind,” Kelly said.

  Capri sighed. “I need a personal assistant.”

  “Isn’t Seagal in the house with you? Kind of dishy for a personal assistant. I bet if you put him in an apron—only an apron—he’ll be your dream come true.”

  Capri winced. “I do not want to put Seagal in an apron or anything else.”

  “Don’t share,” Kelly said. “I’m too busy trying to have my own sweet dreams about his buddy, Jack. Nothing’s happening on that front, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my radar trained on him.”

  “Kelly,” Capri said, “if you could be here, Seagal and I wouldn’t be alone together. And then sometimes he’d leave, go do some cop stuff.”

  “Oh.” Kelly was silent for a moment. “I’d love to help you out, but I can’t. I’d never forgive myself if I messed up this chance for the two of you to work things out. I owe it to my darling godchildren to help you two wonderful, well-intentioned but obstinate friends realize that marriage means two people in the same bed. You are my dearest friend, even if you didn’
t tell me about the twins,” Kelly said.

  “I will name a baby after you if you help me.”

  “You’re having boys,” Kelly said. “Does Seagal know he’s having boys?”

  “The name Kelly is appropriate for a boy or a girl,” Capri said with some disgust at her friend’s lack of loyalty. “No, he doesn’t know, and you’re not telling him. Besides which, it turned out that the early sonograms were wrong. Baby Snow is having a twin sister.”

  “Snow?” Kelly didn’t say anything for a moment. “Does Seagal know you’re using your maiden name?”

  “No.” They were two weeks from a divorce; she had to be practical.

  He was going to hit the roof.

  “You’re really not focusing on what’s important. What is important is that I’m big as a house, I feel stuffed like a Christmas turkey and I don’t want Seagal sitting here looking at me when I could do stand-ins for the blueberry girl in Willy Wonka. I’m feeling distinctly unlike my former more slender self,” Capri said.

  “It’s all right,” Kelly soothed. “Seagal probably likes a little more woman than less.”

  Capri sighed. “You are not helping. And you’re not going to, are you?”

  “Not the way you want me to,” Kelly said. “But I’ll bring you some carrot cake from the Wedding Happy Bakery,” she said, her voice brightening.

  “Oh, that’s just what I need—mach-five calories. How’d the cleanup go, by the way? Did everything get put away properly for next year? Did—”

  “Relax,” Kelly said. “Believe it or not, we took care of everything even without your capable guidance and your megaphone. Now rest, my godchildren.”

  Kelly hung up, and Seagal walked back in the room, slinging himself back into the puffy chair. “Your mother brought you a casserole. My favorite.” He looked pleased, not noticing Capri’s outrage. “I put it in on the counter. It’s all warm, and she brought nice toasty bread because she heard I was staying here with you. I always loved your mom,” he said, practically sighing in anticipation of the meal. “She didn’t want to come in. But she gave me a very mother-in-lawly hug and said welcome home.”

  She glared at her almost-ex. “Seagal, you are not staying here.”

  “It’s either me or Jack.”

  “I’ll take Jack,” Capri said definitively.

  Seagal looked hurt. “You know he gossips. Like a girl. And if he’s here, Kelly will be here all the time. I don’t know why he doesn’t get that she’s crazy about him.”

  “I don’t know why men have such thick skulls,” Capri said. “They just don’t get what females are trying to tell them sometimes.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He sighed. “It’s an honest mistake. A disconnect, even. Excuse me.”

  “Where are you going?”

  He didn’t answer, strolling down the hall. She heard the front door open, and Seagal’s voice cheerily greeting someone. Then the door closed and he made it back to his chair.

  “Apple pie,” Seagal announced. “Courtesy of Mrs. Blankenship. Guess Doc told his wife you were in need of something sweet.”

  “Is there a reason the doorbell isn’t ringing?” Capri asked.

  “I disconnected it,” Seagal said, obviously pleased with himself. “You need to rest. I didn’t want you waking up when my cop buddies drop by.”

  This was one of the problems they’d never been able to overcome. “There’s that disconnect you were talking about,” Capri said. “That man-woman disconnect.”

  “Well,” Seagal said, “it’s going to be a long couple of months. You might as well make like a bear and hibernate back here under that lacy comforter.” He looked longingly at the bed.

  She slid the phone under her pillow so he wouldn’t decide to commandeer that, as well. “Go away, Seagal.”

  A snore caught her attention. Just like the old days, Seagal had dropped off like a tired baby. Even snoring he looked handsome, and she thought about tossing another pillow at him.

  She wished he was sleeping in her bed, as he once had. Most nights they’d barely moved, completely curled in each other’s arms.

  It could not be.

  She closed her eyes, relaxing now that Seagal wasn’t watching her. As long as he was sleeping, he wasn’t in her business.

  That was good. It was what she wanted. She didn’t want to start feeling close to Seagal again, not now.

  She might be in bed on doctor’s orders, but she wasn’t going to hand her heart to her husband again—even if it was terribly hard not to remember that once upon a time he’d meant everything to her.

  * * *

  “AT LEAST you’re not lonely,” Kelly said, grinning at Capri as she put a beautiful Christmas-themed bouquet of flowers on the dresser in Capri’s room. “If you think about it, matters could be a lot worse. I would love to have a hunky man hanging out in my bedroom.”

  Capri looked at her highly energetic friend. “I still say you only have to ask Jack and you’d probably get your wish.”

  Kelly sat down in the chair Seagal had dragged into the room yesterday, making himself at home in her room between visits and calls from his buddies and her friends who continuously dropped off food. He hadn’t yet let anybody past the front door.

  “I think Jack’s got his eyes on someone else.”

  Capri looked at her friend. Kelly’s hair was pulled up on top of her head in a flaming-red knot of bouncy fun. Dangling Christmas ornaments hung from her ears, shiny red-striped balls that screamed festive. Capri did not feel festive. “Jack never dated much. Who do you think it is?”

  “I think Daisy Donovan.” Kelly’s face grew downcast, a counterpoint to the happy ornaments bobbing at her cheeks. “I saw them hanging out at the burger joint last night.”

  Capri wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think Jack would date a woman that Seagal was once very serious about.”

  “Serious until he fell for you,” Kelly reminded her.

  Capri always felt pain at the mention of Daisy. “What happened was that they dated for a year. It got too serious, and Daisy decided she wanted to date other people. I jumped on the chance to ask Seagal out.” She shrugged. “We went out, and I’m not ashamed to say we had a very good time. I wasn’t trying to steal him from Daisy, but I wasn’t about to leave him in the pond if she’d decided to cast him back.”

  “Point being, he fell for you.” Kelly grinned. “You’re lying in this bed because he’s crazy about you.”

  “That’s the thing,” Capri said, “I’ve always felt like I did steal him from Daisy. And I think Seagal secretly was still in love with her, but she kept dating Ryder Holland, and so there I was.”

  “Yes,” Kelly said, “there you were. Warm and willing. Always a smart woman. Valedictorian of our class for a reason.”

  Capri moved restlessly, pulling her sheets over her huge stomach. The babies kicked and she put a hand on them to try to calm them. They stayed active almost all the time now, trying to claim space, she supposed. “They would have gotten back together if I hadn’t jumped on Seagal.”

  “So?” Kelly laughed. “If is the biggest, most dramatic word in the English language. Anytime you hear someone say if, hang on. There’s a story coming.”

  “It’s true. Not that I feel guilty about it. I just feel that I never had Seagal in the first place.”

  “Because you didn’t date that long before he led you to the altar.” Kelly nodded. “Everybody was amazed at how quick Seagal was to jump to say
‘I do.’”

  “And then he said ‘I don’t.’” Capri frowned, remembering. “We didn’t think things through before we got married.”

  Kelly leaned back in the toile chair, wagging a finger at Capri. “He’s a man of action. You’re the thinker in the relationship. You want to plan everything to death. Just for once in your life you let yourself get swept, and now you want to overthink it. You’re going to have to accept that Seagal’s approach to dating was how you won a very handsome husband. And now you’re having his twins. Nothing like sweet babies to make a man love a woman even more.”

  She wasn’t sure love was what guided Seagal. “He’s been an absolute general ever since he got back in the house. If he hadn’t needed to make a run, you wouldn’t even be allowed in here.”

  “I bribed him.” Kelly grinned. “I told him I wanted to spend time with Jack. So here I am.”

  “Jack isn’t here.”

  “Jack’s skulking around somewhere. He’s your bodyguard, for the moment.” Kelly waved a languid hand. “Lying low, protecting his best friend’s girl.”

  “This is ridiculous. Nothing’s going to happen to me!” Capri leaned back against the pillows, annoyed. “I don’t appreciate Seagal taking over my life like this. He’s going to hear about it, too.” If she had to lock him out to convince him that no one was coming in and no one was going out—and that included him—that was what she was going to do. “Go find Jack. Drag him off for some alone time. Get him out of my bushes or out of my driveway. Seduce him, if necessary. Please, for my sake.”

  Kelly considered this advice. “If I lure Jack away, Seagal will never allow me to be his stand-in to help you. It was everything I could do to convince him that you’d be fine with me sitting with you.”

  “Help me up. I’ll tell Jack there’s fresh apple pie in the kitchen. Then the two of you can at least sit in the kitchen and chitchat instead of you wilting at my bedside. How do you expect to lure him away from Daisy if you’re not setting your lures out?”