Three Cowboys

Epilogue

Christmas Eve dawned unseasonably warm, even for south Texas. The north wind that had chilled the area for over a week had shifted, leaving the weather calm and sunny. The night before, with its drama and death, seemed to be some point in distant history. Brittany was home safe with her family and Javier Calderón was dead.

Wyatt had been up half the night dealing with the fallout from the events of the evening. Even ICE had gotten into the act, although Wyatt had refused to let them take Elena out of his sight. When he’d told the agents who’d shown up about overhearing Agent Clive Howard colluding with Calderón, they agreed that she’d be safer with Wyatt while they put out an APB for Howard. He, Morgan, Brittany and Elena had arrived at the ranch well after midnight.

But he dragged himself out of bed at six-thirty, mostly from habit, and showered himself to consciousness. Morgan had disappeared at some point in the night without waking him. Wyatt made a mental note not to open the hall closet under any circumstance as he dressed and made his way downstairs.

His brother Bull was awake, along with Justice and Julio Rivas, who seemed to be in a cautious mood. Apparently, Bull told him as he poured a cup of coffee, Justice had found the boy in a clinch with Brittany the previous night and had given the boy one of his famous “talks.”

“I told Justice he should put the kibosh on their dating,” Bull said flatly. “But the old man’s getting soft in his old age.”

Wyatt sipped the cup of black coffee, letting the bitter burn wake him up a little more.

“Where’s Morgan?” Bull asked.

Wyatt just shot his brother a look.

“Oh.”

“Have you seen Elena?”

“Yeah, she went out on the veranda a few minutes ago.” Bull grinned over the top of his coffee cup as Wyatt headed for the veranda door at a clip.

Elena sat on one of the stone benches that lined the veranda, sipping a cup of coffee. Her back was against the wall of the house, her feet up on the next bench over. She was wearing faded jeans and a long-sleeved, red T-shirt that hugged her figure like a lover.

At the sound of his footsteps, she turned her head and smiled. “Another early riser.”

“Scoot forward.” He straddled the bench behind her, putting himself between her and the house wall. She leaned back against his chest, warm and sweet-smelling. “Good morning.”

She rubbed her temple against his jaw. “Good morning. Did you get any sleep?”

“Not much. You?”

She shook her head. “It’s strange to think that Calderón is dead. I’ve been chasing him so long.”

“Someone else will take his place.”

“Someone always does.”

They fell into comfortable silence for a while. Wyatt broke it a few minutes later. “We still haven’t had that talk.”

Elena set her coffee cup on the bench in front of her and stood up, looking down at him. “No, we haven’t.” She straddled the bench as he had, facing him, sliding her long legs across the top of his until she nearly straddled him as well. “By the way, did you know there was someone having sex in the hall closet this morning?”

Wyatt grinned. “Yeah. We have horny ghosts.”

She laughed, sliding her arms around his neck. “I think I love you, too, Wyatt McCabe.”

Well, he thought. That was easier than he’d expected. “So, what now?”

“There are other closets in this house, right?”

He tugged her wavy curls. “Yes, but I can lock the door to my room, too, and my bed doesn’t smell like mothballs.” He bent and kissed her, slowly and thoroughly, tasting the sweet hint of hazelnut coffee on her tongue. She slid closer to him, her jeans creating delicious friction against his own jeans in all the right places.

“Hey, y’all!” That was Brittany’s voice, sounding excited. With a soft groan, Wyatt set Elena away from him a few inches, turning to look at his sister. She stood in the veranda doorway, her eyes wide and her mouth forming an “O.”

“So sorry!” She blushed madly. “But Bull is going to be going with Ms. Cobb to meet her family for Christmas tomorrow, so Mr. McCabe—Dad—thinks we should open our gifts together today.” Brittany dashed back inside.

For the moment, she seemed to have recovered from her ordeal, though Wyatt suspected she’d eventually break down and have to deal with the emotional fallout. At least she’d have family around to help her through it.

“Gifts,” Elena said with a groan. “I haven’t done a bit of shopping.”

“Yeah, well, you know what gift you can give me later.” He slid his hand over the curve of her pretty little jean-clad backside.

Inside the house, both Bull and Morgan were watching their father with narrowed eyes as he sat on a small stool next to the beautifully decorated fir tree, a red and white Santa hat on his head, and started handing out gifts. The children got their presents first—Cody, Brittany and even Julio had multiple gifts under the tree.

Tugging Elena’s hand to keep her with him, Wyatt crossed to where his brothers stood. “He’s mellowed, hasn’t he?”

Bull looked at him. “So you keep insisting.”

“I didn’t buy the old man anything,” Morgan said.

“You came home,” Wyatt said. “That’s what he wanted the most.”

Bull looked at Wyatt for a minute, then crossed the room and stood next to his father. Justice looked up, a wary smile on his face. He struggled to get up from the low stool, and Bull reached out a hand to help him up. They stood there, hands still clasped, for a long moment. Then Bull pulled his father into a quick hug. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

“Ah, hell,” Morgan said. He crossed to his father’s side, reaching out to catch Dakota’s hand on the way for a quick squeeze. He gave his father a quick hug and wished him Merry Christmas as well.

“You have to go home for Christmas?” Wyatt asked Elena, blinking back the unexpected moisture in his eyes.

“Mom’s in Florida with my sister for the holiday. I’ll call them tomorrow.” She slid her arm around his waist. “Are you sure about this, McCabe? You and me, I mean.”

He looked down at her, drinking in the desire in her dark eyes. “Yeah. I am. But there’s something I should warn you about.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t do things halfway. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. Understand?”

She arched an eyebrow. “As in rings and mortgages and little rug rats running around?”

“Eventually. Would that be a problem?”

She thought about it a moment. “No. Not a problem. I may be looking for new employment, though.”

“Lucky for you, I know the local sheriff.” He pulled her close, lifting her chin for a kiss.

“I don’t see any mistletoe,” she murmured, smiling up at him.

He made a face. “Mistletoe? Who needs mistletoe?”

Bending his head, he kissed her again.

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