A Cowboy's Christmas Proposal

CHAPTER FOUR (#u4ba41d38-ea7f-5a4c-8454-326533601e69)

OWEN HELPED CODY and Marisa onto the first pew in the chapel. He sat Willa on the floor rather than take the chance of her falling.

As it turned out, he needn’t have worried for her safety. The toddler immediately collapsed onto the carpet, stuck her thumb in her mouth, pillowed her head with her other arm and stared into space. Before long, she would nod off.

Owen let her be. Neither he nor his kids had slept soundly their first night at the ranch. True to her word, Marisa objected to sharing the sofa bed with her brother and had a meltdown. Even after she gave up and accepted the inevitable, she, Cody and Willa had insisted on multiple trips to the bathroom and drinks of water and whined endlessly because they missed their mother and Oreo.

No amount of coaxing, cajoling or consoling on Owen’s part had made a difference. Eventually, Willa and Marisa had cried themselves to sleep while Cody remained stubbornly awake. At a loss, Owen had finally allowed his son to crawl into the king-size bed with him where they’d both succumbed to exhaustion.

Everyone had awoken this morning tired and cranky. Owen didn’t see their moods improving without a nap, which was why he let Willa sleep on the chapel floor.

“Is she okay there?” Molly asked from where she stood at the altar, her brow knitted.

“She’ll be fine.” Owen reached down and stroked his youngest’s cheek. She would be fine, right?

Another glaring example of his below average dad skills. His ex-wife had always been the one to get up with the kids at night or tend them when they were sick. And he’d let her, seldom volunteering to take her place. It was one of his many regrets. Regrets he had the chance to remedy thanks to Jeanne.

Straightening, he said to Cody and Marisa, “All right, you two, listen up. We’re playing a game.”

“Yay!” Marisa’s expression instantly brightened, and she bounced in her seat. “I wanna play a game.”

Cody crossed his arms, considerably less enthused. “You said you had to work.”

“I am working and we’re playing a game. You get to help me.” Owen removed a red paisley handkerchief from his jeans pocket and tied it around Cody’s neck. The boy immediately pulled the handkerchief up over his mouth like an Old West bandit. Owen then gave Marisa a rose from last evening’s wedding to hold. “We’re pretending you two are guests. I’m the minister who’s going to perform the service and Miss Molly is the bride.”

“Can I be a bride, too?” Marisa asked.

“Next time, if you behave.”

“Why does she have a mop?” Cody stared at Molly. He’d somehow deduced she was the one responsible for this girly game.

“The mop is the pretend groom,” Owen said.

Over breakfast in the kitchen, he’d attempted to explain the duties of his job at Sweetheart Ranch to his kids without much success. Cody and Marisa had been very young at their aunt’s wedding three years ago and didn’t remember.

He’d have preferred to leave them in Nora’s care for the practice. Unfortunately, she wasn’t available until later, which meant the kids were currently underfoot.

No, not underfoot. Owen reminded himself that he and his kids were at Sweetheart Ranch to bond and strengthen their relationship and for him to become a better dad. Referring to them in negative terms was counterproductive.

“This game is dumb.” Cody threw himself against the back of the pew.

“Would you rather be the groom and stand next to Miss Molly?”

“I’m not marrying her!” Cody pushed off the pew, prepared to make a run for it.

“Stay put, young man.”

He flopped down hard enough to shake the pew.

Owen gritted his teeth, embarrassed at his oldest’s rude outburst but refusing to make the situation worse by yelling.

“I don’t know, son.” He forced himself to speak slowly. “Might not be as bad as you think, standing next to a pretty lady.”

He glanced over at Molly and found her looking at him. The moment lingered, and then her mouth curved into a small smile.

She pulled the mop closer in a mock hug and said, “Sorry. I’m already taken.”

How about that? She possessed a sense of humor after all.

Owen was suddenly glad to be practicing and not because he needed to smooth out a few of his rough edges. Getting to know Molly better was proving enjoyable.

“We don’t have much time,” she reminded him. “We should get started.”

With Willa sleeping peacefully, Owen leveled a finger at Cody and Marisa. “Be good,” he warned and took his position at the altar. Facing Molly and her makeshift groom, he asked, “What ceremony did the couple request?”

“The Art of Marriage, and they’re going to recite their own vows, which makes things a little easier for you.” She handed him a sheet of paper on which was printed the ceremony. “This is a second wedding for both the bride and groom. Only their teenage children, parents and a few close friends are attending. They requested the ceremony have an intimate, casual feel. For you, that means infusing lots of warmth into your voice.”

“Can do.”

At her nod, Owen began with the same welcome speech from the previous night, including the joke about the open house.

Molly stopped him there. “Why don’t we leave out the part about the open house? These people weren’t here yesterday and don’t care.”

She was right, about that and infusing warmth. “Life is a journey,” he continued.

“Wait. That’s too cliché.” Molly tapped a finger on her cheek. “Let’s try, the journey of life is made better when traveled together. Wayne and Tasha have chosen each other to share their journey.”

“You make me wish I’d brought a pen,” Owen teased.

Always prepared, Molly promptly extracted a pen from her shirt pocket and handed it to him. Owen scribbled the changes in the margin.

“You know,” she said when he was nearly done. “I’m not the only person in the room. There’s the groom and the guests. Look at them, too.”

Busted. He had been concentrating on her. Hard to ignore those amazing green eyes which were focused directly on him.

Clearing his throat, he glanced over at his kids. By some miracle, Cody and Marisa weren’t fighting. Instead, they watched him with an intensity akin to wonderment. That hadn’t happened since he’d taken them to the office one Saturday when he couldn’t get out of work and their mother had plans. He’d fully anticipated a trying morning filled with reminding the kids to lower their voices and stay out of trouble. Instead, they’d wound up having enormous fun.

Picking up where he’d left off, he pushed through to the end of the ceremony.

“Better,” Molly announced.

“Good.” He rolled the papers into a tube, assuming they were done. They weren’t.

“Let’s have another go from the top.”

By their third run through, Cody and Marisa had grown bored and started bickering.

“He touched my rose.”