The Christmas She Always Wanted. Stella Bagwell
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“Yes, he would be.”
Cook frowned. “That’s what I suspected.”
Sighing wearily, Angela rested her hip against the cabinets. “We—uh, we knew each other back in Cuero—before he married the mayor’s daughter.”
Cook’s grimace was full of disapproval. “Haven’t seen no wife with him around here.”
“They’re divorced. He told me last night.”
“Oh. How you feel about that?”
Picking up the dishtowel, Angela absently twisted it between her hands. “I’m trying not to feel anything toward Jubal Jamison. He’s best forgotten.”
Cook glanced shrewdly over her shoulder at Melanie, then across to Angela. “Well, if that’s what you think.”
About six miles north of the main ranch house, Jubal, Matt Sanchez and Lex Saddler were riding across a range filled with three hundred Brahman cows with calves at their sides. The two cousins had invited Jubal to join them on a ride this morning as a way for him to get more familiar with the Sandbur cattle and their quality of grazing.
So far, Jubal had seen healthy cattle and a surprisingly abundant amount of late-season grasses. “These mama cows are in great shape to head into winter,” Jubal told the two men. “I don’t see that you should change anything about your feeding program.”
“Hey, you’re my kind of guy, Doc,” exclaimed Lex, the younger, blond cousin. “We’re gonna be great buddies, I can already tell.”
On the other side of Jubal, Matt, the dark, serious one, let out a snorting laugh. “As you can see, Jubal, Lex is always happy when he hears there is less work to do.”
Grinning at his cousin’s teasing gibe, Lex asked, “Why change something that ain’t broke? Right, Doc?”
Jubal chuckled. “Well, there’s nothing that I see broken now.”
As they rode the horses through the herd of cattle, Jubal visually inspected the animals while the two cousins bantered back and forth. Yet even while he looked for any signs of disease or distress, a part of his mind was replaying the scene he’d had with Angela the night before.
Dear God, seeing her again had dazed him. For the past five years, he’d traveled all over south Texas and had never seen her or even heard anyone mention her. Never would he have dreamed she’d be living here on the Sandbur. And never would he have imagined himself grabbing her like he had and kissing her as though they were still lovers.
Jubal swallowed hard as emotions left the inside of his throat tight. Last night had been too early to tell her about Evette and the baby. But she’d asked and it would’ve been even worse to avoid the truth. And then he had touched her and every scrap of common sense had left him. Especially when he’d felt her body soften against his, felt her lips begin to respond, the way they’d used to kiss him. Or was that only wishful thinking on his part?
“Hey Jubal, look over there,” Matt spoke up. “Something is wrong with that cow’s milk bag.”
Turning toward Matt, he followed the line of the rancher’s pointing finger. “Let’s go see. She might need attention.”
Moments later, Matt had the cow roped and the lariat secured to his saddle horn. Down on the ground, Jubal stood in knee-high grass as he examined the new mother. “Looks like her teats are inflamed,” he told the two men. “She’s going to need a shot of medication for the next few days, otherwise her new baby might have to be bottle fed.”
“You gonna lead her home, Matt?” Lex asked with a taunting grin. “You’ve already got her caught.”
“Hell, no! She might decide to horn old Ranger. You wanta lead her for five or six miles back to the ranch?” he dared Lex.
For answer, Geraldine’s son reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “I’ll think I’ll just have some of the boys bring out a trailer.”
Jubal held up a hand. “Wait. She needs to stay right where she is—with the herd, where she feels safe. It would be best not to put her through the stress of loading her into a stock trailer, then putting her in a dry lot. I’ll drive out and take care of her for the next few days.”
“I knew there was some good reason we hired you, Doc,” Lex said with a happy grin. “I think I just found out what it was.”
“Lex, just remember I’m the one who insisted we needed Jubal,” Matt told his cousin, then turned a grateful look on Jubal. “I hope you don’t regret taking the job.”
Regret? The only thing Jubal regretted was losing Angela five years ago. Taking this job had led him back to her. And this time he was going to do things right.
“Not for a minute,” Jubal told him.
Chapter Three
Two days later, Angie was back in the kitchen of the big house helping Geraldine wrap dark blue cellophane around two huge baskets.
“Angie, I want you to take these two holiday baskets to Jubal’s. Not the clinic, but his house,” she said. “They’re full of useful little things for his new home and some goodies for him to eat. Men aren’t too good about cooking for themselves, you know. You do know how to get there, don’t you?”
Angie stared blankly at the woman. She loved her boss and certainly wanted to do everything to please the woman. But go to Jubal’s house? The last time she saw him, she’d said that she never wanted to see him again. After that, there was no telling what he’d think when he saw her driving up.
“I—I believe so. It’s over the hill, north of the ranch yard. On the left of the road.”
“That’s right. But the road is too rough for your car. You’d better take my old truck.”
The tall, slender, silver-haired woman gathered the cellophane paper at the top of one of the baskets and tied it off with a small piece of grass twine. A masculine touch, for an extremely masculine man, Angela thought wryly.
“Uh—what if he isn’t there?” Angela asked.
“Doesn’t matter. I seriously doubt he’ll have his doors locked. Just take the baskets inside and put the perishables in the refrigerator.”
Please, God, don’t let him be there, Angela silently prayed. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll take care of it right now.”
“Take care of what?” Cook asked as she stepped into the kitchen.
Geraldine looked around as Cook approached them. “I’m sending Angie to deliver these baskets to Jubal’s house. I want him to feel really at home here on the ranch. Maybe these few things will help.”
A tiny frown pulled Cook’s brows together as her dark eyes glanced over at Angela. “She don’t need to deliver those baskets,” she said to Geraldine. “I’ll get Alida to do it.”
“Alida is over at the Sanchez house,” Geraldine reasoned. “And Angela isn’t helpless.”
Even though she knew the two women had a close relationship that spanned decades, Angela didn’t want Cook to get into a rift with Geraldine over her. So when Cook opened her mouth to utter another protest, Angela quickly jumped in. “It’s no problem, Cook. I’ll get these delivered and be back in no time.”
Frowning, Geraldine’s glance swung suspiciously back and forth between Angela and Cook. “Is something wrong? Why shouldn’t Angela deliver these baskets to Jubal?”
Forcing a cheery smile to her face, Angela swiftly reassured her. “There’s nothing wrong, Miss Geraldine. Cook just wants me to help her with a dish we were planning for tonight’s meal. That’s all.”
Seeming to accept Angela’s explanation, the ranch lady glanced