A Texas Holiday Reunion. Shannon Vannatter Taylor
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“Give me a minute.” Resa sucked in a quivery breath. “And then send him in.” She hung up, pressed her hands on the glossy live edge cypress table. Counted to ten. Out loud.
A knock sounded at the door.
She straightened, raised her chin. “Come in.”
“Sorry to bother you, but the feed store won’t let me put anything on the ranch account.” Hat clasped to his chest, Colson cocked an eyebrow.
Why could she never get enough air when he was around? His mere presence drained all oxygen from the room.
“I’m sorry. I failed to let them know you were on staff.” She grabbed a paper clip from the corner of the table, straightening and bending it between her fingers. “I have a meeting with a client, but I’ll make the call as soon as we’re finished.”
“I thought maybe you’d decided to work here to avoid me.” He sank into one of the chairs at the long table, ignoring her subtle hint for him to go.
She swallowed hard. No. She wouldn’t fall under his spell. It had been six years since he’d broken her heart. And she hadn’t missed him. Not one iota.
Even though she understood why he’d left her, he should have been man enough to tell her the truth instead of pulling a disappearing act.
“I’m not hiding.” Her mouth went taut and she gestured to the blueprints. “I’m meeting with your mother-in-law, actually.” Or was it former mother-in-law, since Felicity’s death?
“Hyacinth is coming here?” He jumped up, clamped his hat on his head.
“Any minute. I was shocked when she placed the order. Her first one with us. Always struck me as the Queen Anne type, but apparently her husband bought a cabin.”
“I have to get out of here.” He strode to the door.
The phone buzzed. “That’s probably her.” Did they not get along?
“I haven’t told her we’re here yet.” Colson scanned the room as if looking for a place to bust through the wall. “It’s complicated—I wanted to get Cheyenne settled first.”
“I’ll hold her off if you want to slip out the back.” Resa picked up the phone. “Yes, Nina.”
“Mrs. Birmingham is here.”
“Give me a few minutes.” She hung up, gestured to the back of the building. “Turn right in the hall.”
“Thanks.” He opened the door.
“Colson?” Hyacinth Birmingham said from a distance.
But not for long. Colson backed into the conference room as his mother-in-law approached.
Hyacinth stalked inside, her nose in the air. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
Nina was right on her heels.
“Thank you for showing Mrs. Birmingham in,” Resa told her. More like blasted her way in.
Nina splayed her hands, stepped out and shut the door.
“Is Cheyenne with you?” The woman, a San Antonio blue blood, was positively irate.
And Resa wanted to bolt for the door herself.
“I was going to call you.” Colson’s tone attempted to soothe.
“How long will you be here? When can we see Cheyenne?”
“I’m the foreman at Resa’s ranch until Christmas Eve. We’ll set something up soon.”
Hyacinth’s fists clenched. “Almost all month. Why haven’t you called us?”
Oh dear. “Colson just arrived Sunday and it was all very last-minute,” Resa interjected. “I’m certain he’d love for you to see your granddaughter.”
Why was she defending him? Because she didn’t need this kind of drama in her store? Because she’d seen the evidence that he was a good father?
Both. But also probably because it was happening all over again—she was being drawn to him.
“Who’s watching her while you’re at work? What about school?”
“She’s with Annette and they’re staying brushed up on her preschooling, so she’ll be ready for kindergarten next year.”
“Of course.” Hyacinth looked toward the ceiling. “A woman she’s no blood relation to.”
Colson’s jaw tensed; his eyes turned steely. “Are you offering to preschool her?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
If only Resa could melt through the floor.
“Of course not. But she could stay with us. We keep a nanny on staff.”
“Absolutely not.” He swallowed hard. “I like having her near and she loves Annette, who’s actually a teacher.”
“Just wait until Nigel hears about this.” Hyacinth propped her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe you plan to keep Cheyenne away from us. How dare you—after you killed our daughter.”
Resa swung her gaze to Colson.
All color drained from his face.
* * *
“It’s not like that, Hyacinth. I can assure you.” Colson clenched his teeth. “I was just trying to get Cheyenne settled in. You know it’s hard for her to adjust to change.” And she’s scared of you. Actually, truth be told, he was, too.
“Well, having her grandparents near would lessen the change.” Her nose went higher in the air. Still snooty.
“Mimi. Let’s go already.” Hyacinth’s other granddaughter, Jasmine, now nine or so, flounced into the conference room. Hands on hips, tapping her Gucci-clad foot, she was the spitting image of her mother—Felicity’s sister, Lucinda—in looks and attitude.
“I’m sorry.” Nina rushed in. “She got away from me.”
“Jasmine.” Hyacinth glared at Nina. “I told you to stay with the nice lady.”
“It’s okay, Nina. Babysitting isn’t in your job description.” Resa smiled at her flustered employee, then turned to her customer. “I’m sorry, but my floor manager has work to do.”
Hyacinth tugged at the hem of her thousand-dollar jacket. “I didn’t have any choice other than to bring her. The nanny just up and quit. With no notice.”
Colson had a pretty good idea why. He slipped his phone from his pocket. “Jasmine can play a game on my cell while you and Resa talk furniture.”
“Puhlease. I’ve got my own phone.” The little girl crossed her arms and perched on the edge of the sofa, as if she didn’t plan to stay long.
He couldn’t risk alienating a wealthy client like Hyacinth by giving her rude grandchild a tongue-lashing. If she left the store unhappy, half of Texas would hear about it. Besides, he needed to stay in her good graces. Make her irate enough and she just might try to take Cheyenne from him. Especially if the truth got out.
“I’m excited about your desk and I’m glad you’re here.” Resa pulled out a chair. “I’ve got some ideas I wanted to run by you.”
“Maybe I should come back once I get a new nanny. Come along, Jasmine.” Hyacinth patted her immovable hair, tucked in a perfect chignon at the base of her neck. He’d made the mistake of calling it a bun once.
The little girl spewed out an exasperated sigh and flounced to the door.
“Call me, Colson.” Hyacinth pursed her lips. “We’ll expect a visit tonight.”
“Aren’t you taking Cheyenne to the Trail of Lights tonight?” Resa asked.
Huh?