A Texas Holiday Reunion

The realization that Cheyenne even existed was still sinking in.

Maybe tonight, Resa would fix them a meal, make a point to get to know the child and prove to Colson she really was over him.

* * *

It was suppertime, but food was the last thing on Colson’s mind. He’d let Cheyenne spend an hour with him this morning to get her acclimated to their temporary home. But his day had stretched long after Annette retrieved her. His heart did triple time as he let himself in the McCalls’ house, the way it always did when he’d been away from his daughter, even if only for a few hours.

Last night he’d seen that the house was much as he remembered. Large, but not as grand as the McCalls could have afforded. Massive beams, rustic design, a veritable showroom full of Rustick’s furnishings. A lot like his dad’s. He could hear Dad’s voice, Annette’s, and a child’s giggle that warmed him from the inside out.

Cheyenne lay on the yellow pine floor, her dark curtain of hair framing her face, a frown of concentration there as she colored a princess’s hair pink. Dad and Annette were smiling on from the nailhead log couch.

Colson plopped down beside Cheyenne.

“Daddy.” She shrieked, pushed up and barreled into him.

“How’s my little beauty? Do you like the new digs?”

“It’s okay.” But she only had eyes for him.

If he could just bottle these moments...

“Wanna color?”

“Can’t wait.”

She wiggled out of his arms, returned to her coloring book, pointed to the prince next to her page. “You can do him.”

“What color hair should he have?” He lay flat on his belly beside her.

“Blue since he’s a boy.”

“Blue it is.” He grabbed the crayon and went to work. He looked up when he felt his dad’s and Annette’s scrutiny. They were holding hands, both of them grinning at him. Married four years, they were obviously still crazy about each other. “What?”

“Adorable.” Annette shot him a fond wink.

“Thanks for helping out with her.”

“We had fun. I felt like a teacher again. Cheyenne will keep me in practice for subbing again next year.”

Though Annette clearly loved teaching, she didn’t seem to regret going from full-time to being a substitute when she’d relocated to marry his dad. At first, Colson had been leery of the new woman in Dad’s life. He hadn’t wanted to see his father get hurt again. And his hackles had gone up when Annette had gently suggested Cheyenne needed counseling last year.

But she’d been right. He’d watched his little girl slowly come out of her shell over the last few months. Annette had been good for Dad. Good for all of them. Colson had sympathized when he’d learned her first husband had cheated on her, left her for another woman. She’d been just as wounded as Dad, so Colson had gotten to know her. Trust her even, which was rare for him.

“I better do something about supper.” Annette stood.

“You don’t have to slave over us.” Colson finished the prince’s hair. “I’ll make us sandwiches or something.”

“Nonsense. Cheyenne needs more than deli meat to grow on.” She headed for the kitchen.

This hiccup would be rough on all of them. New surroundings for Cheyenne. Her biological family—still in the dark—within a stone’s throw. Dad and Annette uprooting their lives, sharing a house with Colson.

If his dad only knew the pickle Colson was in. But he’d let Dad down so much in the past. And Dad had never asked much of him. The least he could do was keep the McCall ranch running well during their absence. He’d just have to ignore Resa.

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it. But it feels funny answering the McCalls’ door.” Dad hurried to the front of the house.

Colson could hear a feminine voice. He couldn’t make out the words, but he knew it was definitely Resa, making herself hard to ignore. Two sets of footfalls sounded as they made their way back to the great room.

Colson stiffened. No, Dad, keep her away from Cheyenne.

Maybe he should have told him the truth. But he knew his dad would want him to tell Resa. And he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t risk losing Cheyenne.

Colson looked up, shifted his position as his old rodeo injury flared heat through his shoulder.

“Isn’t this nice.” Dad held a large red pot with hot pads. “Resa brought us chicken and dumplings. And perfect timing, since Annette was just about to rustle us up a meal. I better go head her off.” He continued toward the kitchen.

“I love to color.” Resa shoved her hands in her pockets. Awkward, but her eyes softened as she watched Cheyenne. There was no judgment or teasing toward him, even though he currently held a crayon labeled cornflower blue.

Cheyenne’s gaze never left her work; her crayon never stopped moving.

“We didn’t get to meet this morning. I’m Resa.” She strolled over, then settled across from Cheyenne.

She glanced up at Resa, her eyes widening because of this new adult invading her space, then focused once again on her picture.

“I really like the princess’s hair pink.” Resa smiled.

Seeing Cheyenne’s pale blue eyes didn’t seem to bring any new awareness to Resa.

Colson relaxed a bit.

“My teacher always wanted me to make it yellow, or brown, or black,” his daughter murmured. “But I told her pink is for girls.”

How had Resa gotten her talking? Usually Cheyenne clammed up around anyone she didn’t know.

“I like the way you think.”

Cheyenne glanced up at her again.

“I always wished I had purple hair.” Resa tentatively reached over, twirled a strand of Cheyenne’s hair around her finger.

“Really?” Cheyenne’s crayon broke. “Uh-oh.” She reached for another pink one. “But pink would be better.”

“I agree. Maybe we can color together sometime.”

“Maybe.” Cheyenne’s voice rose an octave. Interested? Or nervous?

Resa stood. “I’ll let myself out.”