The Cowboy Who Saved Christmas - Jodi Thomas Page 0,68
tax debt so that I’m indebted to you. So that you can what? Win me over? Marry me so that my property goes to you?”
“Let me tell you something,” he said, dropping his arms and stepping back into the space between us. His eyes flashed. “I’m perfectly fine over here. I don’t need anything of yours to complete my business or pad my land rights. I don’t give a shit about your ranch, Josie. And I don’t have time to win anyone’s affections with money.” He flung an arm in the direction Abigail had skipped away. “She’s everything,” he said. “My whole world. Everything with me and you might have gone to hell that day five years ago, but Winifred could have stayed in Colorado and never told me about her. I have my daughter because she came here and tore our world apart.”
My hands shook at the palpable love that came over him at the mention of Abigail. It was a phenomenal thing to see on a man, and so beautiful. And he was right. In spite of all the drama with her mother, Abigail was no mistake or casualty of battle. She was the prize.
“Then why did you—”
“Help you?” he said incredulously. “My God, Josie, are you that jaded? That distrustful of me?”
I wanted to say yes. To call on the days and weeks and months of anger and resentment that had built up these horrible walls. But the last two days with him had made those walls weak. Made me see a different perspective.
“You apologized for not telling me what was going on back then,” I said. “For keeping it from me. And then the very next minute, go and do another thing that involves me—without telling me. Again. How would you feel?”
He sighed wearily, nodding as he dropped his gaze to the wooden floor beneath our feet.
“I helped you because I have never stopped loving you, and I have the means to do it,” he said with a slight shrug. “It’s just that simple.”
That simple, and yet the words falling out of his mouth stole my breath. I reached for the nearby wingback chair to ground myself and keep my knees from giving way.
“There are no complicated twists or hidden agendas.” He blew out a breath. “I’m not a complicated man. But I see your point, and I’ll try to do better.”
I lifted my chin and gripped the chair’s fabric a little tighter. “Better?”
He reached over to a nearby shelf at the same time, and plucked something from a basket, holding up a sprig of mistletoe. A bitter taste filled my mouth.
“I started a conversation back then that I never got to finish.”
It was my turn to sigh wearily. “Promises made under a silly plant mean nothing, Ben. Our lives have proven that.”
“I proved exactly what I said,” he responded. “I promised you that I would love you for the rest of my life, and I will do exactly that. I don’t want your ranch,” he continued. “Yes, we can make something truly special by merging them if you ever want to, but that’s inconsequential.”
His gaze was intense as he stared down at me and shrugged.
“What’s yours would still be yours, Josie. I’d deed it right back to you.”
I blinked. “You’re—talking about—”
“I want you,” he said, so close to me again now that we were almost touching. “I want to be the one to kiss you good night every night, and wake you up every morning.” He touched the mistletoe to my lips and then tossed it aside, lowering himself to one knee before me.
A gasp escaped my throat, as my eyes burned and my mind raced back to the last time. His last proposal, also made on the fly, before his fiancée walked in.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, the déjà vu of the moment making me dizzy.
“I don’t need that thing to say what I want to say,” he said. “I asked you a question back then, before we were interrupted.”
“Ben—”
“I love you, Josephine Bancroft,” he said, looking up at me with an adoration I knew in my heart was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.
Suddenly, all that was spinning just—stopped. The noise cleared. The fog lifted. Regardless of all the heartache and chaos, I knew that nothing had ever, or would ever, be more amazing than that moment, as I gazed down at this man.
“I’ve loved you from the first day I watched you ride up on that horse, bringing us water,” he said. “And you