Christmas in Texas Page 9

  She smiled and took the flowers. “Thank you.”

  He tossed his hat on the flowered sofa. “I sort of worried that it’s not acceptable to give your wife flowers from her own shop. Kind of takes the luster off the gesture, you know?”

  “It’s fine.” She sat down on the sofa. “You probably want a shower and a glass of wine? A beer?”

  He nodded. “You’re going to want me to tell you everything.”

  “Yes, I am.” Capri nodded. “I have a funny feeling that there’s a lot I didn’t want to accept. And that I haven’t been very nice to you about it.”

  “Shower first,” Seagal said. “Then I’ll fill in the story for you.”

  “You know where the shower is.”

  He nodded, gauging her underlying message. “I’ll be right back.”

  She watched him leave, took a deep breath. It was late, and she knew Seagal had to be hungry. The flowers he’d brought her were beautiful; she thought maybe they were the most wonderful gift he’d ever given her. He’d been trying to be thoughtful—romantic, perhaps—even as his case was winding down.

  The tree twinkled softly, another gift from him. And the babies.

  He’d changed. She’d changed.

  She hoped they’d changed, and that their marriage might be stronger for the changes.

  Capri went to the kitchen and put out a plate for herself and her husband, making sure the turkey and the oyster stuffing were still warm. Two crystal wineglasses went beside the plates; she filled them with white wine. Mrs. Penny had put cranberry sauce in the fridge, as well as an apple pie and sides of broccoli and mashed potatoes. These she warmed, and put it all on the table along with a crusty half loaf of French bread.

  Seagal came out of the bathroom, his hair damp and tousled. “That looks good.”

  “Mrs. Penny is a dear friend. She said she made double so we would have a meal and some leftovers.”

  “She’s good, no question. Jack is a lucky nephew.” He pulled out her chair. “Are you going to join me?”

  “Sure.” She took the seat he offered, her heart beating fast.

  “Sara and Carter are dreaming of sugarplums?”

  “Probably for another sixty seconds.”

  Seagal smiled. “We better eat fast.”

  Capri wondered how many meals they’d had at this kitchen table in the two years they’d been married. Had Seagal ever cut the turkey and filled her plate, as he was doing now?

  “You don’t have to do everything, Seagal,” she said. “You weren’t the reason our marriage wasn’t working. We had equal shares in that.”

  “When you’ve had something then lost it, you probably want to work a little harder to keep it if you get another chance.” He handed her the plate, began to fill his.

  She held her breath. It was too close, too soon. She didn’t want him feeling as if he had to work hard to “keep” her; she had just as much work to do. The time he’d spent at his job had been as much an issue for her. Time apart had made her hope that their marriage might be stronger.

  “Thank you for today,” she said softly.

  He shrugged. “It’s my job.”

  They began to eat. Capri found herself listening for the babies, but there wasn’t a sound from the nursery. Maybe she had time to say the things she wanted to say more than anything. “You’ve done so much for me, Seagal. I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re my wife. Those are my children sleeping down the hall. Of course I’m going to take care of you.” He sighed as he bit into Mrs. Penny’s mashed potatoes. “She may be a gossip, but she’s also a heck of a cook.”

  Capri smiled. “Do you miss Bridesmaids Creek?”

  He sipped his wine. “There are things about Bridesmaids Creek I miss.”

  “I would never want to live anywhere else. I often felt as if you were smothered by this place.”

  “No. I always knew I’d come home to Bridesmaids Creek. But I had a job to do, and I did it.”

  The turkey was moist and delicious; the cranberry sauce delicately sweet. Their Christmas Eve meal was so different from last year’s. Seagal felt so far away from her. She couldn’t eat any more; her stomach was tied in knots. “I’m going to check on the babies.”

  She left the kitchen, went down the hall to quietly open the nursery door. They had a baby monitor in the kitchen and in the bedroom; still, she felt that she needed to look at them to make certain they were all right.

  “Are they ready for The Night Before Christmas?” Seagal asked from behind her. He looked over her shoulder at the babies. “Maybe tomorrow night.”

  She closed the door, following him back to the kitchen. “Apple pie? Mrs. Penny’s specialty.”

  “I think I’d like a fire in the fireplace. You feeling like a fire?”

  Capri nodded. “I’ll get the wineglasses.”

  They went into the formal room where the Christmas tree gently glowed. Seagal made a fire, and Capri watched from the flowered sofa.

  “Seagal?”

  He turned his head. “Yes?”

  “Is your assignment over?”

  He turned back to the fire. “Capri, my assignment was to play Santa for the kiddies.”

  “An assignment Mrs. Penny is eager for you to reprise next year.”

  “She mentioned it. I’ve accepted.”

  She was a bit surprised. “Well, you did do justice to the revered Santa suit. I just didn’t think you’d want to.”

  “You’ll be cochairing Christmastown, won’t you?”

  She nodded. “And the Bridesmaids Creek annual swim, and the Groomsmen’s Dash. Wherever I’m needed.”

  “It’s time I take on a few things myself. Wearing a Santa cap won’t kill me.”

  She thought about the “bad” boys who’d apparently decided BC needed to add some drug-dealing to their peaceful streets. “What about Kinsler and his gang of nasties? What happens to them now?”

  “Actually, we don’t know if Taylor Kinsler or any of his ilk were behind the drugs. I talked to Daisy. She claims not to know a single thing about what was going on. I believe her.”

  A sharp arrow darted into Capri’s heart. Bridesmaids Creek was a small town; he would always run into Daisy. So would she. She had to make peace with that. “If she wasn’t being forthright, you would know, Seagal. You’re a good Ranger.”

  He looked bemused by her praise. Surprised.

  “Have you forgiven me for staking out your store? I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you everything about the case, which I know came across as ham-handed and overbearing. I had to risk your trust in order to protect you.”

  “I know now. It was just so hard for me to accept that the world I’d built might be hiding something so horrible for Bridesmaids Creek. It wasn’t until that creep came through the back door and grabbed me that I realized I’d underestimated your cop skills.”

  He stood, surveying the fire he’d built. “I’m sorry that happened. I mistook the timing of the next pickup.”

  “So is it over?”

  “I doubt your store will be used again for the same purpose. They’ll move elsewhere.”

  “Somewhere else in Bridesmaids Creek? What about other business owners?”

  “I’m going to take an assignment here for a while. I want to be with the babies. Help you out.”

  She didn’t say anything, hearing a new tone creep into his voice. Something distant, something cool. “It’s important for you to be
with the children, Seagal. I know I didn’t tell you immediately—”

  “Your brother took care of me.”

  “I’ll talk to Beau about that one day. Anyway, Seagal, I apologize. I really do.” She looked at Seagal. “You’re a wonderful father. I want you to spend all the time with them you can.”

  She felt tears gather in her eyes. He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. “I’m going out for a bit.”

  Her breath left her. “Thank you for the flowers.”

  He nodded. “Merry Christmas, Capri.” He handed her the key to the house.

  Then he left.

  * * *

  SEAGAL HATED TO LEAVE Capri, but there was something he had to do.

  He had wanted nothing more than to protect her, but he’d come to realize he couldn’t. The moment he saw her go inside her shop, Seagal knew that he had been overbearing, overprotective. There was no way to keep anybody in a box, keep them safe, the way he wanted to keep Capri safe. She’d had every right to be annoyed with him.

  The thing was, he was always going to want to protect her. He just couldn’t. She didn’t want him to.

  But he could take care of his children. He’d always have that part of their marriage. Even after tomorrow, when morning dawned on the day after Christmas, he would know that Carter and Sara would always be a part of both of them.

  He found Taylor Kinsler in the Wedding Diner, eating with his gang of “Bad.” Seagal pulled up a chair, spoiling for trouble. It was Christmas Eve, and there was no better time to start ringing in the holiday.

  “Hello, fellows,” Seagal said.

  The five men stared him down. He’d gone to school with them, played football with them, even occasionally rodeoed against them. Then their paths had diverged. He’d gone on to become a cop, something that was as much a part of him as breathing. Moving up to the Rangers brought him pride he could hardly explain.

  “Don’t you have someplace to be on Christmas Eve?” Taylor asked. “Or did the little lady kick you out?”

  “I did have plans for Christmas Eve.” He leaned back in the chair. “Unfortunately, I had to participate in a small incident at the Bridesmaids Bouquet flower shop. My wife owns that store,” Seagal said, “in case you didn’t know. It means a whole lot to her.”

  The five Bads watched him carefully.

  “We found marijuana seeds in some planters from her shop,” Seagal said in a conversational tone, “which I was surprised to find in a small town. Funny that anyone would think a flower shop is the perfect place to conceal drugs.”

  “Why are you telling us?” Taylor asked. “Do we look like we care about drugs? We’re sitting here eating burgers and trying to get some holiday spirit, which is kind of hard to do with a cop in our midst.”

  “Just letting you know I’m going to be in town for a long time.” Seagal smiled. “In case you hear anything.”

  “We don’t know anybody who uses drugs,” one of the Bad said. “Can’t help you.”

  “I don’t need help,” Seagal said. “I’m trying to help you.” He got up, stared down at the five men. “It was small-time stuff, really. A small-time criminal was sent to make the pickup, too. He squealed like a pig when we pressed him on who’d hired him.” Seagal put some money on the table. “I’ll buy your meal, fellows. Because I have a funny feeling it’s the last one you’re going to be eating on the outside for quite some time.”

  He left, feeling pretty good about everything. It had all worked out.

  Everything except his marriage.

  That was the one thing he still needed to fix.

  Chapter Ten

  Capri thought long and hard before she sent the text to Seagal.

  The babies have put cookies out for Santa. The key is under the mat.

  She sent it, feeling nervous. But Seagal had seemed so strange when he left. She knew something had been on his mind. Cop stuff was always on his mind.

  But she knew she was on his mind, too. Capri knelt beside the tree, rearranged some of the gifts people had brought for the babies and for her and Seagal. The stockings were full of tiny baby socks and rattles, and well wishes from friends. Her mother had come by with a carload of gifts—and a letter from her grandmother written to Capri when she was a child, and saved by her mother for the right time.

  Dear Capri,

  What a wonderful granddaughter you are! So headstrong and stubborn—these are gifts—and beautiful and wise. You remind me so much of myself at your age. I love that you come on Saturdays and work in the shop. I hope you’ll always want to spend time with me, because you mean so much to me. I never dreamed I’d have such a considerate granddaughter, and it makes me so happy to see how much you and your mother love each other. We are strong women, we Snows, and I know you will grow up to be a fine woman and mother in your own right one day. I always dreamed I’d have a little granddaughter to make Christmas dresses for. I’m the happiest grandmother in the world. I love you so much, dear sweet granddaughter.

  Nana

  Capri put the letter away, glanced at the photo of her grandmother on the mantel. “You would have loved your great-grandchildren,” she told the photo. “Seagal and I have the most amazing angels.”

  She turned back to the tree, resettled the gifts, rearranged some bows. She’d hidden a small gift for Seagal under the tree, wrapped in silver and gold with a red bow.

  She didn’t know if he’d come home to get it.

  Her heart would break if he didn’t.

  At the stroke of midnight, she heard the key turn in the lock. Hope rose inside her.

  Seagal stepped inside the house, Santa hat perched jauntily atop his dark hair. “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas,” he said.

  Capri smiled. “Hi, Santa.”

  Seagal closed the door behind him as cold air from outside blew in along the floor. “It’s freezing outside. I got a text about cookies for Santa?”

  Capri got up. “Gingerbread men brought by, fresh from Mrs. Penny’s oven. She said she knew of a Ranger who loved cookies and hot tea.”

  He looked at her, tossed his Santa hat on the flowered sofa. “I don’t know if I can eat the cookies the babies put out for Santa Claus.”

  Capri looked at her husband. “How about cookies your wife puts out for you?”

  He remained by the door, not stepping a foot closer to her. “After tomorrow, I don’t think I’ll have a wife.”

  “Something tells me I’m going to have a husband. I think the Christmas spirit has made me believe the thing I want most will be here for Christmas.”

  A smile bloomed on Seagal’s face. “You want a husband more than anything?”

  “No,” Capri said, moving within arm’s length of Seagal, “not just a husband. I want you, Seagal.”

  He studied her for a moment, glanced around the room, took in the Christmas tree. His gaze settled back on her again. “I’m overbearing and protective.”

  She nodded. “Yes, you are. And not much for sharing your feelings.”

  “And that’s okay?”

  Capri smiled. “Yes to the first two—we’ll work on the last one.” She put her hand in his. “You’re also a fine man. A loving father. And the man I’m in love with.”

  He drew her into his arms. “Whatever made you change your mind, I’m thankful for. I want you to be happy, even if it means walking into the courthouse tomorrow.”

  She leaned up to kiss him. He stayed very still, accepting her
caress. “How about we just stay in bed? And play with the babies when they wake up?”

  His eyes lit with everything she’d ever wanted to know about his feelings: love, desire, happiness. “I love you,” Seagal said. “I love my children, because you gave them to me.” He kissed her thoroughly, making sure she had no doubt of the way he felt about her. He pulled back, looked into her eyes. “Come on, Mrs. Claus. Let’s go look at our little sugarplums.”

  They walked down the hall hand in hand, stopping outside the nursery. Seagal pushed open the door, and they went to stand by the babies’ cribs. Carter and Sara lay under their soft blankets, their tiny eyelids closed tightly with not a care in the world.

  “Nestled all snug in their beds,” Seagal said. “They don’t even know it’s Christmas.”

  “I do,” Capri said. “And I have something to give you. Something that requires you to do a little unwrapping.”

  Capri smiled as Seagal picked her up in his arms. She put her head on his chest, loving being back in his strong arms again. He carried her from the nursery, and as they went through the kitchen, Capri snagged the plate of cookies she’d laid out for Santa.

  After all, Santa needed to keep his strength up. She fully intended that her husband would have a very merry Christmas—every year for the rest of their lives.

  Epilogue

  The babies slept in for the first time ever on Christmas morning, but as soon as their little cries came over the baby monitor, Seagal and Capri unwrapped themselves from each other’s arms and dressed.

  They hurried down the hall into the nursery. Seagal picked up Sara, and Capri took Carter from his crib.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” Seagal said. “Merry Christmas, babies,” he said, snuggling his daughter’s cheek. Sara stopped crying, taking in her father’s deep voice and touch. Seagal grinned at Capri. “Santa said thank you very much for the delicious cookies you put out for him, babies.”