Read Online A Cowgirl's Christmas by C. J. Carmichael - Free Book Online
Authors: C. J. Carmichael
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all the time in the world to herself. Tomorrow morning they would inter half of Hawksley’s ashes, and after that she would spread the rest of them up in the foothills.
With Court.
She dreaded seeing him again now that she knew the truth. She hated the fact that he had known more about her life than she had. It was so unfair. What had her parents been thinking when they made that stupid pact?
She made it through the meal, barely, and the clean-up, too. But when the family decided to sit around the table and play a game called Things, she couldn’t take it.
“I have to go into town,” she told Sage quietly, before slipping out the door with the keys to her truck, her wallet and her phone.
Grey’s Saloon was calling.
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T he next morning at Hawksley’s interment, Callan stood graveside, shivering with cold, while enduring her second hangover in as many days. Fresh snow coated the Gallatins and she couldn’t help worrying about the cattle. Now that the fences had been fixed, they should be brought down to lower elevation soon.
She shifted her gaze to her mother’s gravestone, and the date of death that marked Beverly Carrigan’s shortened lifespan. Callan had been only eight when she lost her mother. How different her life, and that of her sisters, would have been if their Mom hadn’t gone out to the barn to help Hawksley deliver that calf eighteen years ago. Had Hawksley blamed himself for her death?
Probably. That would help explain why he’d felt compelled to keep looking after the children he’d never wanted and never loved.
The service was short, only a few prayers. In attendance were her sisters, their spouses and children. Dani had bundled her baby warmly and held her close to her chest to keep out the frigid air. Eliot had his arm protectively over Dani’s shoulders and she was leaning in to him.
Over the course of the past few days, Callan had almost been won over by the divorce attorney. According to Nat, Eliot hadn’t been afraid to get his hands and boots dirty in the barn. So he couldn’t be all bad.
On Callan’s other side, Sage and Dawson stood arm-in-arm, Dawson in his deputy uniform since he had to work the afternoon shift. They’d decided not to bring Savannah, instead leaving her at a friend’s house for the day.
Mattie, Nat, Portia and Wren stood in another grouping at the far side of the grave. Nat had a hand on Mattie’s shoulder, while Mattie was holding each of her daughters’ hands.
And that was it. They hadn’t invited great aunt Mabel, or Eliza, since they were Brambles from their mother’s side of the family. And Court, thankfully, hadn’t been heard from since the reading of the will. Or, more accurately, the night he’d accosted her in the bar.
It still made her burn to recall the way he’d disarmed her, as if he was some sort of protector or guardian. And not one of her cowboy buddies had stepped in to help. What kind of loyalty was that?
After the interment everyone headed inside, gathering around the dining room table for sandwiches and tea. Sage recounted the time she had the bad fall that ended her barrel-racing career. “Less than twenty-four hours after the accident, Dad was in Casper, Wyoming, standing by my hospital bed.”
“I remember,” Callan said. “He got the call, and ten minutes later he was on the road.”
“He was such a tough guy, yet he did care,” Sage concluded.
Once upon a time, Callan had believed this with all her heart. But now she couldn’t help but wonder. Had her father driven all that way out of concern? Or because he’d felt it was something he owed their mother?
“So what happens now?” Dani asked, looking at Callan.
Callan shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“After we all leave—what will you do?”
Chatter at the table ceased as everyone waited to hear what she’d say.
“It’s so awful that Hawksley didn’t leave you the ranch,” Mattie said. “I still
With Court.
She dreaded seeing him again now that she knew the truth. She hated the fact that he had known more about her life than she had. It was so unfair. What had her parents been thinking when they made that stupid pact?
She made it through the meal, barely, and the clean-up, too. But when the family decided to sit around the table and play a game called Things, she couldn’t take it.
“I have to go into town,” she told Sage quietly, before slipping out the door with the keys to her truck, her wallet and her phone.
Grey’s Saloon was calling.
––––––––
––––––––
T he next morning at Hawksley’s interment, Callan stood graveside, shivering with cold, while enduring her second hangover in as many days. Fresh snow coated the Gallatins and she couldn’t help worrying about the cattle. Now that the fences had been fixed, they should be brought down to lower elevation soon.
She shifted her gaze to her mother’s gravestone, and the date of death that marked Beverly Carrigan’s shortened lifespan. Callan had been only eight when she lost her mother. How different her life, and that of her sisters, would have been if their Mom hadn’t gone out to the barn to help Hawksley deliver that calf eighteen years ago. Had Hawksley blamed himself for her death?
Probably. That would help explain why he’d felt compelled to keep looking after the children he’d never wanted and never loved.
The service was short, only a few prayers. In attendance were her sisters, their spouses and children. Dani had bundled her baby warmly and held her close to her chest to keep out the frigid air. Eliot had his arm protectively over Dani’s shoulders and she was leaning in to him.
Over the course of the past few days, Callan had almost been won over by the divorce attorney. According to Nat, Eliot hadn’t been afraid to get his hands and boots dirty in the barn. So he couldn’t be all bad.
On Callan’s other side, Sage and Dawson stood arm-in-arm, Dawson in his deputy uniform since he had to work the afternoon shift. They’d decided not to bring Savannah, instead leaving her at a friend’s house for the day.
Mattie, Nat, Portia and Wren stood in another grouping at the far side of the grave. Nat had a hand on Mattie’s shoulder, while Mattie was holding each of her daughters’ hands.
And that was it. They hadn’t invited great aunt Mabel, or Eliza, since they were Brambles from their mother’s side of the family. And Court, thankfully, hadn’t been heard from since the reading of the will. Or, more accurately, the night he’d accosted her in the bar.
It still made her burn to recall the way he’d disarmed her, as if he was some sort of protector or guardian. And not one of her cowboy buddies had stepped in to help. What kind of loyalty was that?
After the interment everyone headed inside, gathering around the dining room table for sandwiches and tea. Sage recounted the time she had the bad fall that ended her barrel-racing career. “Less than twenty-four hours after the accident, Dad was in Casper, Wyoming, standing by my hospital bed.”
“I remember,” Callan said. “He got the call, and ten minutes later he was on the road.”
“He was such a tough guy, yet he did care,” Sage concluded.
Once upon a time, Callan had believed this with all her heart. But now she couldn’t help but wonder. Had her father driven all that way out of concern? Or because he’d felt it was something he owed their mother?
“So what happens now?” Dani asked, looking at Callan.
Callan shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“After we all leave—what will you do?”
Chatter at the table ceased as everyone waited to hear what she’d say.
“It’s so awful that Hawksley didn’t leave you the ranch,” Mattie said. “I still
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