Chapter Four
Mags
I glared at Lawson’s back as he walked out of the barn, disappearing into the heavy snowfall. My fingers itched to pull out my gun and shoot him in the ass.
It was only midday, but the weather had disrupted the workday, and according to Beau and Mase, it pushed up our holiday plans.
Plans I wanted no part of, and they knew that.
I liked my alone time during the holidays, and this year, I was looking forward to being alone with Diana.
We had over a decade of catching up to do, and we weren’t wasting a single second.
The wooden ceiling of the horse stall creaked, meaning that Jigs and Denver were still in the loft. Which meant I had to linger around a bit longer to get a moment alone with my friend. I returned to brushing Midnight, and not even five minutes later, my phone vibrated in my pocket.
Firefly.
“How are you feeling?” I answered. “How’s the baby?”
My ear was filled with the sweet sound of Diana’s soft laughter then. “Mags, is that how you’re going to answer the phone my entire pregnancy?”
“Yes.”
More laughter.
Christ. I should’ve never left our bed this morning.
“The baby and I are fine, handsome,” she murmured.
“Any more nausea?” I pressed. She was nearly twelve weeks, and she could hardly keep down her normal breakfast. It worried me probably more than it should, but nothing could happen to her. Or our child.
“Not this morning, thankfully. How’s the herd?”
“Still there,” I deadpanned.
She didn’t miss a beat. “How’s Denver?”
“Still an asshole.”
She hummed. “From what I hear, you were the asshole this morning, my love.”
Glad to know the twins still had big fuckin’ mouths.
“That shouldn’t be a surprise to you, Firefly.”
“Mags,” she softly scolded, “they could sue you for workplace harassment.”
“They can both kiss my ass and move the hell on for all I care.”
My woman had nothing to say to that. So she changed the subject. “Have you talked to Den yet?”
“Waiting for him and Jigs to finish up. Then I will,” I promised, the words tasting like acid on my tongue.
Denver was his own man, had always been his own man, and I’d only needed to pull his head out of his ass a handful of times.
I didn’t understand why I needed to over a holiday that brought him pain.
“I don’t know how much good this conversation will do, Diana. ”
“He listens to you.”
“The man is trying, you can’t deny that. We’ve had plenty of Christmas parties up at the main house before.”
“And you think he planned those?” she queried calmly. In the background, I heard papers shuffling.
I gave Midnight one last apple before walking out of her stall and locking the door. “Are you saying he didn’t?”
“Mags, I planned those.”
My feet halted in the middle of the barn, her admission stopping me in my tracks. My fingers flexed around the phone as I looked over to the stairs that led to the loft. “You—you planned those? All of them?”
“Hallow Ranch needed Christmas cheer.” She paused. “Do you honestly think Denver decorated his house that way every year?”
“I—”
Well, fuck.
“It was me. Caleb needed some traditions, and Denver was too lost in his own pain to give any,” she explained, her voice growing thick.
“Diana—”
“There were a lot of times over the last decade when I might’ve pushed him too hard, and it was never my place to do so, but…but for fuck’s sake, it was Christmas!”
My lips twitched. “Fuck’s sake, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Thought you weren’t cussing anymore.”
“It’s fucking Christmas, Mags. I’ll cuss if I want to.”
“Yes ma’am,” I drawled as Jigs came down the stairs.
He tipped his hat to me and winked. “I tried to cheer him up for you.”
I muttered a curse under my breath. “Great, now he’ll just be pissed off.”
“Is that Jigs?” Diana asked.
“Yeah.”
“Can you put him on?”
“Baby, I gotta—”
“I need to ask him about the velvet ribbon,” she rushed out.
Velvet ribbon?
What in the—
“Jigs, Diana needs to talk to you.” I sighed, holding the phone out to him.
The old man trotted over to me, adjusting his hat. “This about the ribbon?”
“Apparently so.”
Jigs took the phone from me, putting against it his weathered ear. “Heya, darlin’. Did you find it?”
I folded my arms over my chest, leaned against the wall, and watched him pace back and forth as they discussed Christmas tree decor. When Jigs finally stopped pacing and looked at me, I raised a brow. “Isn’t there already a tree in the main house?”
“This is for the dining room.”
I pulled off my hat and looked to the ceiling. Yeah, I should’ve never left my fuckin’ bed. I should’ve rolled over, spread Diana’s legs, and ate her cunt until she was panting my name like a fuckin’ prayer.
“Yeah, sweetheart, I’ll tell him,” Jigs said with a smile before hanging up the phone and handing it to me. “She said she loves you.”
My chest tightened, the weight of her words hitting me in the best of ways.
I would never get tired of her saying those words. Each time was a gift I’d never thought I’d get.
“I’ll see you in a bit, old man,” I muttered, putting my hat back on.
As I headed to the stairs, he called out to my back, “The pain is nearly gone, you know.”
I paused and looked over my shoulder. “I know.”
“He just needs a little push, is all.”
“Not sure I’m the person who should be doing the pushing.”
Jigs gave me a flat smile. “He listens to you.”
Right now, I wasn’t too sure of that.
Denver was still at his desk, jotting down numbers on his notepad when I got to the top of the stairs.
“You know the work can wait,” I said, going to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
As I sat, my body silently cried out in a familiar agony.
The phantom pains, after two months of having none, had suddenly returned, and I couldn’t help but think it had to do with my anxiety over Diana and the baby.
“That’s interesting to hear coming from you,” he replied, not bothering to look up.
“Wanted to talk to you.”
“About wanting to kill my ranch hands or about why everyone is walking on eggshells around me?”
“I didn’t know Diana was the one who threw the Christmas parties.”
His pen stopped gliding across the cream-colored paper. Still, he didn’t look at me.
I went on. “I always assumed it was you trying to bond with all of us.”
“All of us bonded in other ways, Mags. No need to do it around a damn decorated tree,” he replied, his voice dark.
Yes, we bonded over bloodshed and scattered ashes across his mountain.
“That’s not how the cowboys bonded, Kings.”
Finally, he rose up and leaned back in his chair, letting the pen fall onto the desk. The air around us shifted, cold and dark now. “If you’ve come here to give me a holiday pep talk, there’s no need. Valerie’s plan will go off without a hitch.”
I scratched my beard. “How rehearsed are you for this?”
“It’s the same every year.”
I took off my hat and propped it on my knee, settling in. “It has been, yes, but this year is different.”
His gray eyes flashed with a cold indifference. “It’s just a fuckin’ day, Mags.”
“It’s different because we’re all here, at Hallow Ranch, happy and safe,” I countered. When he said nothing, I added, “I’ll remind you that what you and I have right now is something both of us never thought we would get.”
“Enough.”
I ignored him. “Valerie and Diana gave us happiness, Kings. Our women gave us peace.”
“We don’t need to—”
“Your brother has found that same happiness with Harmony, and they’re here for the holidays. They stayed instead of going to celebrate somewhere else. Do you not see how monumental that is?” I asked, my voice sharp.
Surely, he had to see it.
I knew—hell, everyone on this ranch knew—there were some unresolved issues around this fuckin’ day between the Langston brothers. It was the one thing those two hadn’t had a chance to work out.
Kings stared at me, the years of hardship lingering between us. My next words came out gruff and forced, as if my body didn’t want me to say them. “Pain stays as long as you allow it.”
“You of all people don’t get to lecture me on pain.”
Shaking my head, I leaned forward. “I held on to my pain because I thought it was all I had, all I deserved.”
He continued to stare at me, silent.
“Diana isn’t the reason I’m letting go of that pain. No one else can make you let go. That’s a choice you have to make for yourself.”
Breaking our gaze, he looked out the window, focusing on his home just up the hill. It was picture perfect, standing tall and proud, the white paint blending in with the snow, the black roof and red bricked porch like beacons.
“No one is telling you how to feel or what to do, Kings,” I said softly. “We just want you to be happy.”
I left him with that, murmuring goodbye before heading out to my truck.
The normal ten-minute drive out to my cabin took twice as long and, thankfully, Diana was home when I arrived.
As I got out of the truck, the snow crunching underneath my boots, she emerged, wrapped up in a dark red sweater, with jeans covering her long legs and hot pink socks on her feet.
“Is there a reason you’re out in the cold, Firefly?” I asked, climbing the steps.
Her eyes flickered with delight as she gave me a breathtaking smile. “You telling me I can’t greet you on the front porch?”
I stopped right in front of her, bending my head so I could hold her eyes. “Not when it’s freezing out and you’re carrying my baby, beautiful.” I reached out, grabbing a lock of her honey blond hair. “Don’t need you both getting sick.”