Christmas in Texas

Imagine his shock when he learned from a very reliable source that his wife was about to make him a dad. Heart failure. Capri had always brought him to his knees, but now…now she staggered him.

She hadn’t planned to tell him. He knew Capri better than she realized. Oh, she would have told him after the birth of his bundle of joy, and not one second before.

Because she knew he’d be right back here in Bridesmaids Creek—and she didn’t want him back.

Tough. She was going to have him. That baby was going to know its dad—no matter what sexy mama had in mind.

“Hey!”

Seagal glanced up. His fellow officer Jack Martin idled at the curb in one of Bridesmaids Creek’s new police cruisers. He strolled over to greet Mrs. Penny’s nephew.

“What’s up, Jack?”

Jack grinned. “Considering that your car is parked in Capri’s driveway, I’m surprised you are.”

Seagal ran a hand over his unshaven chin. “Just barely. Did you bring me a latte, or is this a social call?”

His buddy grinned. “Neither. Just wanted to let you know that you were a hit last night. The kids said you were the best Santa ever. You’ve been voted Santa Most Likely to Repeat next year.”

Seagal grunted. “I couldn’t get out of that itchy suit fast enough.”

“Scrooge.” Jack handed him a coffee in a white cardboard cup. “Have a jolt on me. Figured you didn’t sleep much.”

Seagal sipped the beverage gratefully. “I didn’t. As sofas go, it’s not made for sleeping. I always despised that flowery thing, and now it’s my bed. I think that’s called karma. I wanted to get rid of it, and somehow that poufy nightmare outlasted me.”

Jack laughed. “Does my aunt always keep an eye on you like this? I’d like to think she’s proud of me, but I’m pretty sure she’s got her radar trained on you.”

Seagal glanced over his shoulder, waving at the pink-roller-wearing Mrs. Penny. She had a white phone tucked firmly up to her ear, chatting away. Mrs. Penny waved back, thrilled to have been noticed. “You know your aunt and her friends run this one-horse town. If it wasn’t for her, we’d still be—”

“The creek no one ever heard of.” Jack put the cruiser in Drive. “True, but you’re definitely in her sights for the next few weeks. Just so you know. I won’t be down the street before she calls me wanting to know all.”

“I’m good with it. She makes great chocolate chip cookies.”

Jack grinned. “I know. By the way, I was told to give you a nudge to snoop around your wife’s flower shop.”

Seagal’s cup didn’t quite make it to his mouth. “What am I looking for?”

Jack shrugged. “Anything suspicious. Especially check out the employees, and anyone who seems to hang around a lot. You get the idea.”

“Yeah, but—” Seagal considered what Jack was saying. “The drugs could have been moved after Capri put the arrangements out at Christmastown.”

“Probably. Just check around.”

Jack drove off. Seagal grabbed the newspaper lying on the sidewalk and waved to Mrs. Penny before heading inside the small painted house, ruminating on how he could snoop around Capri’s shop without getting her annoyed at him. She’d always been super-independent. And they weren’t on the world’s best terms.

Now he had to scope out her business and her home.

Nothing good could come of this.

“Good morning.” He looked at Capri as he walked into the kitchen. She seemed pale, not her usual sparkly self. “You all right?”

Capri picked up her purse. “I had a little stomach upset last night. It kept me up, so I’m going to let Dr. Blankenship check me over.”

“I’ll drive you,” Seagal said quickly.

She looked at him. “Kelly’s going to take me, thanks. Don’t you have work?”

He did—her. “Nothing I can’t handle. Cancel Kelly and let me sub in. A dad should be there if his young son is causing his mother heartburn. And anyway, isn’t Kelly part of the Christmastown cleanup team this morning?”

Capri hesitated. He loved how she’d pulled her blond hair up into a bouncy ponytail to get it out of her face. She no longer wore the skinny jeans and cute cropped sweaters she’d once favored, but she was still all kinds of beautiful as far as he was concerned. Sexier than ever, actually. He felt his own heart get a little burn in it that had nothing to do with anything he’d eaten and everything to do with his wife keeping him at arm’s length.

“Yes, she is. So am I, but Dr. Blankenship said I could cross that fun off my list immediately.” She looked at Seagal. “I guess you can take me to the doctor. Thank you.”

“Great.” He grabbed his keys and tried to help her to the front door. Capri waved him off. “Because I was about to play the guilt card on you.”

“That would be a new one,” Capri said.

He thought she sounded tense and realized she didn’t feel well at all. “Hey, you want me to carry you?”

“No,” Capri said. “I want you to walk very slowly and don’t do anything to get Mrs. Penny in a lather.”

“Too late,” Seagal said, waving again to Mrs. Penny. It seemed rude not to acknowledge her at her lace-festooned lookout.

“It’s going to be all over town that you spent the night,” Capri said, not thrilled.

“Yeah, well. Could be worse, right? Could have been her nephew, my buddy Jack.”

He helped Capri into the car. She eased in as though she was trying not to disturb fragile packaging. “Are you sure I shouldn’t take you straight to the hospital?”

“I’m fine.” Capri put a hand on her stomach and looked out the window, deliberately avoiding his gaze. He pulled out of the drive, resisting the urge to mash the pedal to the floor.

“You’re almost seven months pregnant,” Seagal said. She’d kicked him out—though she claimed he’d left—four months ago. “How did I not notice?”

“Even I didn’t know.” Capri sighed. “The first trimester was a dream. I didn’t realize I was pregnant until the end of the third month. The second trimester was more difficult, at least for me. I didn’t start showing for quite a while, I guess because I’m tall.” He felt her gaze on him. “I did have a little bit of stomach distress when you were still here, but I assumed it was extreme annoyance. So I ignored it.”

He grimaced. “Turned out it was a baby?”

She sighed. “You might as well know. There are two. Not even Kelly knew that.”

Seagal slammed the brakes at the stop sign out of pure reflex. “Two what?”

“Babies.”

Shock. Brain-hit-with-a-stun-gun shock. “We’re having twins?”

“That’s right. Drive. I don’t want to be late.”

Seagal couldn’t get any words past his throat. No wonder Capri seemed so big. She was big. “When were you going to tell me?”

“When you got over the initial shock of finding out you were going to be a father.”

He grunted, his heart racing. Two? There were no multiples in his family, or hers, as he recalled. “How did that happen?”

“You made love to me a lot,” Capri said, “and something hit bingo would be my guess.”

He had made love to her as often as possible. To be honest, making love to Capri was pretty much the best part of his day. He missed it like crazy.

He missed her like crazy.

“I should never have left,” he said. “You talked me into a separation, but I knew better at the time. I was right. We belong together.”

She shrugged. “Not because we’re going to be parents, Seagal. Children won’t fix what was wrong with our marriage.”

He parked in front of the doctor’s office. “Sit right there and do not move, Miss Independence. I’m coming around to shoehorn you out. I’m afraid if you move the wrong way, we’ll have babies sooner rather than later.”

Seagal hurried around to help her out of the car, amazed that his wife actually remained seated, patiently waiting for him. The soft blue dress fell around her tummy, catching his eye. It looked as if a watermelon had taken up residence inside his delicate wife. He eased her from the seat, trying to brace her. “I came back not a moment too soon, I can tell. I’m not leaving your side, Capri.”

“Obviously,” she said, sounding as though she was gritting her teeth a bit. “You’re assigned to me.”

“That’s right,” he said cheerfully, reminded that she couldn’t dislodge him even if she wanted to.

“Assigned isn’t the same thing as marriage,” Capri said, walking slowly into the doctor’s office. “You can stay with me until the cops figure out that I’m not in any danger. The whole drug thing is purely a coincidence. Then you can go back to wherever you came from.”

That didn’t sound good. Seagal wisely kept his mouth shut, hovering over his wife as she checked in, then helped her to a chair. He received several smiles from the other women in the waiting room and relaxed a bit. His wife was going to have to get over her idea that their marriage was a foregone failure.

He hadn’t come back to fail. When Beau, Capri’s beloved “baby” brother, had told him that Capri was having a baby, he’d pulled every department string possible to get himself assigned to the case—and ultimately, to her. Having worked his way up in the Texas Rangers, he was something of a hometown hero. It hadn’t been hard to get assigned back to BC.

It was terrifying to think he had only two weeks to win back his wife.

Capri would be mad as a little bee if she knew how determined he’d been to get back into her life. He’d wanted to keep her out of danger the second he heard about the case building in Bridesmaids Creek. But when he’d heard that she was pregnant, Seagal had known he had to move heaven and earth to be with her.

And he wasn’t leaving her ever again—not if he could convince his opinionated and cutely stubborn little wife otherwise.

* * *

“TOTAL BED REST,” Dr. Blankenship said. He gazed sternly at Capri.

The expression on the doctor’s face unnerved Seagal. Rarely had he seen the physician look so concerned.

“Bed rest?” Capri said. “I have a lot to do. I’m doing the flowers for a wedding. I’m also scheduled for some Christmas parties—”

“Total bed rest,” Dr. Blankenship cut in, shaking his head. “We talked about you needing to be in bed last week, Capri.”

“What?” Seagal looked at Capri in disbelief. “What were you thinking?”

“That I had Christmastown to set up, and that Dr. Blankenship is overprotective. I’ve known him since I was a child. He’s always been from the old school of medicine.” She tried to lever herself off the table, and both men jumped to assist her.

“No,” Dr. Blankenship said. “Capri, these babies are going to come early if you don’t stay off your feet. And the longer they stay in you, the better off they will be. Do you want them inside you growing and getting the nourishment they need naturally, or do you want to take precious time from them? They could end up with immature lungs or other complications,” he warned, his gray eyes filled with disapproval.

“All right. You’re right. Of course you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Tears jumped into Capri’s eyes, stunning Seagal. He’d seen Capri cry once, maybe, in all the years he’d known her. Doc Blankenship handed her a tissue, which she took gratefully, blowing her nose. “I’ve never been the kind of person to lie around.”

“I know.” The doctor looked at her with the first bit of a smile he’d worn in the past half hour. “But going ninety to nothing isn’t going to benefit you or the babies. You can press Kelly into service for help with the wedding arrangements, can’t you?” He regarded Seagal cautiously. “Are you back in town for good now?”

“Yes,” Seagal said, stressing the word with a glance at his wife.

Capri looked away, fidgeting with her tissue.

“Then you stay on her,” Doc Blankenship said. “It’s absolutely critical that Capri remain at home in bed. I should have forced her on this issue last week, but she assured me she was fine.”

“I am fine,” Capri said. “Or I was until last night.”

“Clearly I returned not a moment too soon.” Whether she liked it or not, he intended to be a pain-in-the-butt nurse, sticking to her like glue.

He knew Capri would resent his intrusion. Resist his efforts to take care of her. She’d barely accepted his role as bodyguard; bodyguard with a nursing specialty she’d like even less.

But she was still his wife. And he loved her, even if she thought she was over him.

Chapter Three

“Comfy?” Seagal asked Capri after he’d taken her home, given her a scolding in his overbearing I’m-taking-charge-now, I’m-a-cop, this-is-what-I-do-best tone, and then tucked her in her bed.

Their bed.

She glowered at him. “This isn’t going to work. I want you to call Kelly and tell her to hire someone to help me. It doesn’t need to be all the time, for heaven’s sake.”

“For when I’m out of the house.” Seagal nodded as if her suggestion made sense. “Good idea. I’ll call her now.”

“No,” Capri said, trying not to snap at him. He was just too big, too good-looking, overpowering the small bedroom where they’d spent many happy hours.

“I don’t want you here. You’re going to drive me insane.”

“Well, that is a personal problem, I believe,” Seagal said, dragging one of her pretty upholstered chairs into the bedroom. “I would drive you insane no matter what, so I might as well go for broke.” He flung himself into the stuffed, sweetly patterned chair that went with the floral sofa that had so offended his masculine sensibilities. “You covered these chairs. They were denim blue. Now they’re—”

“Toile,” Capri said, knowing he wouldn’t know what that meant. “To go with the floral sofa and the delft-blue paint on the walls, the delicate gold-foil mirror over the white fireplace mantel, and the special cushions I had made for the two ladderback chairs. Sort of country-French appeal I call it.” She smiled at him. “It’s a feminine room. Not a place for hanging deer heads and hunting rifles.”

“I know.” He grimaced. “And you changed the comforter on the bed. It’s lacy.”

“And white.” Capri enjoyed Seagal’s perplexed expression. “I gave up the masculine decorating scheme after you left.”

He looked at her. “We’ll discuss that another time. You just rest right now. You need the rest, and so do my sons. Clearly, you aren’t any better at obeying doctor’s orders than you are a husband’s.”

She tossed a pillow at him, catching him in the face. “Don’t go all pigheaded to try to get me off the subject. Call Kelly.”

“You’ll hardly notice I’m here. I’m serving a dual role that none of your girlfriends can fulfill.”

“Annoying me and wearing out the new furnishings?” She smiled sweetly. “As I said, this isn’t going to work. You’re too bossy—”

“And you’re stubborn as heck. What woman thinks decorating for Christmastown is more important than her own babies?” Seagal demanded. “You always said that my responsible side weighed your flighty side.”

“But I didn’t necessarily mean that it was a good thing.” Capri thought about it. “To be honest, Dr. Blankenship didn’t say I absolutely had to go to bed last week, Seagal. He said it would be best, and that he preferred to err on the side of caution. You know John Blankenship,” she said, trying to make him see she wasn’t being reckless with her pregnancy. “He advises most of the town to stay away from the Wedding Happy Bakery because he says the magic in their secret batters is guaranteed to clog arteries just from looking at the cookies and cakes. He’s a fine doctor, but he’s been known to be a bit of an alarmist.”

“Maybe. But not where babies are concerned. He’s seriously planning to send a nurse out here with a drip if your contractions don’t go away.” He studied her, not happily. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that I’m here for the long haul, babe.”

“I don’t think so,” Capri said, knowing steam was probably pouring out of her ears. If Seagal thought he was just going to waltz back into her life and start being an overbearing donkey, he could just go bray elsewhere. “Hand me the phone.”

He got up, seemed to consider her words, then paced down the hall. “We’ll continue this discussion in a moment.”

“He acts as if I didn’t take care of myself for the past several months.” Capri reached for the phone on her bedside table, finally hooking it with the aid of a slipper she pulled off her foot. She dialed Kelly’s number.

Kelly’s cheerful voice shouted a hello. Capri switched the phone to her other ear, hoping the eardrum wasn’t bruised. “I need a favor.”

“What?”

“Doc Blankenship’s put me on bed rest. As in, don’t move a fingernail.”

“Oh, man. You are going to lose your mind,” Kelly said.

Capri sighed. “I need a personal assistant.”

“Isn’t Seagal in the house with you? Kind of dishy for a personal assistant. I bet if you put him in an apron—only an apron—he’ll be your dream come true.”

Capri winced. “I do not want to put Seagal in an apron or anything else.”

“Don’t share,” Kelly said. “I’m too busy trying to have my own sweet dreams about his buddy, Jack. Nothing’s happening on that front, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my radar trained on him.”

“Kelly,” Capri said, “if you could be here, Seagal and I wouldn’t be alone together. And then sometimes he’d leave, go do some cop stuff.”

“Oh.” Kelly was silent for a moment. “I’d love to help you out, but I can’t. I’d never forgive myself if I messed up this chance for the two of you to work things out. I owe it to my darling godchildren to help you two wonderful, well-intentioned but obstinate friends realize that marriage means two people in the same bed. You are my dearest friend, even if you didn’t tell me about the twins,” Kelly said.

“I will name a baby after you if you help me.”

“You’re having boys,” Kelly said. “Does Seagal know he’s having boys?”

“The name Kelly is appropriate for a boy or a girl,” Capri said with some disgust at her friend’s lack of loyalty. “No, he doesn’t know, and you’re not telling him. Besides which, it turned out that the early sonograms were wrong. Baby Snow is having a twin sister.”

“Snow?” Kelly didn’t say anything for a moment. “Does Seagal know you’re using your maiden name?”

“No.” They were two weeks from a divorce; she had to be practical.

He was going to hit the roof.

“You’re really not focusing on what’s important. What is important is that I’m big as a house, I feel stuffed like a Christmas turkey and I don’t want Seagal sitting here looking at me when I could do stand-ins for the blueberry girl in Willy Wonka. I’m feeling distinctly unlike my former more slender self,” Capri said.

“It’s all right,” Kelly soothed. “Seagal probably likes a little more woman than less.”

Capri sighed. “You are not helping. And you’re not going to, are you?”

“Not the way you want me to,” Kelly said. “But I’ll bring you some carrot cake from the Wedding Happy Bakery,” she said, her voice brightening.

“Oh, that’s just what I need—mach-five calories. How’d the cleanup go, by the way? Did everything get put away properly for next year? Did—”

“Relax,” Kelly said. “Believe it or not, we took care of everything even without your capable guidance and your megaphone. Now rest, my godchildren.”

Kelly hung up, and Seagal walked back in the room, slinging himself back into the puffy chair. “Your mother brought you a casserole. My favorite.” He looked pleased, not noticing Capri’s outrage. “I put it in on the counter. It’s all warm, and she brought nice toasty bread because she heard I was staying here with you. I always loved your mom,” he said, practically sighing in anticipation of the meal. “She didn’t want to come in. But she gave me a very mother-in-lawly hug and said welcome home.”

She glared at her almost-ex. “Seagal, you are not staying here.”

“It’s either me or Jack.”

“I’ll take Jack,” Capri said definitively.

Seagal looked hurt. “You know he gossips. Like a girl. And if he’s here, Kelly will be here all the time. I don’t know why he doesn’t get that she’s crazy about him.”

“I don’t know why men have such thick skulls,” Capri said. “They just don’t get what females are trying to tell them sometimes.”

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed. “It’s an honest mistake. A disconnect, even. Excuse me.”

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t answer, strolling down the hall. She heard the front door open, and Seagal’s voice cheerily greeting someone. Then the door closed and he made it back to his chair.

“Apple pie,” Seagal announced. “Courtesy of Mrs. Blankenship. Guess Doc told his wife you were in need of something sweet.”

“Is there a reason the doorbell isn’t ringing?” Capri asked.

“I disconnected it,” Seagal said, obviously pleased with himself. “You need to rest. I didn’t want you waking up when my cop buddies drop by.”

This was one of the problems they’d never been able to overcome. “There’s that disconnect you were talking about,” Capri said. “That man-woman disconnect.”

“Well,” Seagal said, “it’s going to be a long couple of months. You might as well make like a bear and hibernate back here under that lacy comforter.” He looked longingly at the bed.

She slid the phone under her pillow so he wouldn’t decide to commandeer that, as well. “Go away, Seagal.”

A snore caught her attention. Just like the old days, Seagal had dropped off like a tired baby. Even snoring he looked handsome, and she thought about tossing another pillow at him.

She wished he was sleeping in her bed, as he once had. Most nights they’d barely moved, completely curled in each other’s arms.

It could not be.

She closed her eyes, relaxing now that Seagal wasn’t watching her. As long as he was sleeping, he wasn’t in her business.

That was good. It was what she wanted. She didn’t want to start feeling close to Seagal again, not now.

She might be in bed on doctor’s orders, but she wasn’t going to hand her heart to her husband again—even if it was terribly hard not to remember that once upon a time he’d meant everything to her.

* * *

“AT LEAST you’re not lonely,” Kelly said, grinning at Capri as she put a beautiful Christmas-themed bouquet of flowers on the dresser in Capri’s room. “If you think about it, matters could be a lot worse. I would love to have a hunky man hanging out in my bedroom.”

Capri looked at her highly energetic friend. “I still say you only have to ask Jack and you’d probably get your wish.”

Kelly sat down in the chair Seagal had dragged into the room yesterday, making himself at home in her room between visits and calls from his buddies and her friends who continuously dropped off food. He hadn’t yet let anybody past the front door.

“I think Jack’s got his eyes on someone else.”

Capri looked at her friend. Kelly’s hair was pulled up on top of her head in a flaming-red knot of bouncy fun. Dangling Christmas ornaments hung from her ears, shiny red-striped balls that screamed festive. Capri did not feel festive. “Jack never dated much. Who do you think it is?”

“I think Daisy Donovan.” Kelly’s face grew downcast, a counterpoint to the happy ornaments bobbing at her cheeks. “I saw them hanging out at the burger joint last night.”

Capri wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think Jack would date a woman that Seagal was once very serious about.”

“Serious until he fell for you,” Kelly reminded her.

Capri always felt pain at the mention of Daisy. “What happened was that they dated for a year. It got too serious, and Daisy decided she wanted to date other people. I jumped on the chance to ask Seagal out.” She shrugged. “We went out, and I’m not ashamed to say we had a very good time. I wasn’t trying to steal him from Daisy, but I wasn’t about to leave him in the pond if she’d decided to cast him back.”

“Point being, he fell for you.” Kelly grinned. “You’re lying in this bed because he’s crazy about you.”

“That’s the thing,” Capri said, “I’ve always felt like I did steal him from Daisy. And I think Seagal secretly was still in love with her, but she kept dating Ryder Holland, and so there I was.”