Concerned the time he'd already spent standing would delay his recovery, Wren helped Declan back to bed, setting his slippers on the floor by his nightstand before she climbed in beside him. "Why didn't you want to touch me?"
He gave her a sorrowful look, his lips tilting in the ghost of a lopsided grin, and for a minute, Wren worried she should have eased into their conversation rather than pouncing with the question that had preyed on her mind the past two months.
But as though sensing her worry, Declan took her left hand in his right, interlinked their fingers, and muttered, "It was never a matter of not wanting, Wren. It was that I wanted to touch you too damn much."
She frowned, "So why do it at all?"
"I thought it would make things easier."
"Easier on who?"
"Me," he huskily whispered.
Wren studied him, unsure if he refrained from giving more detailed answers to her questions because it was such a tender subject or if he was protecting her feelings from a truth he thought she might not want to hear. "How?"
He shook his head and clamped his mouth shut.
"What about what I wanted?" She quietly asked, squeezing his hand.
"You weren't supposed to notice I was doing it."
Wren snorted a quiet, rueful laugh, then stared at the ceiling. "I didn't at first."
Declan hesitated, then asked, "What gave me away?"
She looked at him, tempted to ignore the question and all the hurtful emotions it dredged up with the memory, then decided if they had any chance of healing and moving beyond it, she might as well speak plainly. "The first night you called me pretty bird, and we kissed in the tack room... I was clingin' to you like a leach, and you were latched onto the doorframe instead."
Declan winced. "I never meant to hurt you—and you had every right to be upset with me."
"Am I correct in thinkin' you were doin' it from the very beginnin'?"
He nodded.
Wren sighed and went back to staring at the ceiling.
Several minutes passed, each lost in their own thoughts, listening to the other breathing, allowing time to mull everything over before Wren turned and leaned on her elbow, propping her head on her right hand, and softly asked, "Does it have somethin' to do with what you said earlier... about not wantin' to suffer heartbreak like your mama did?"
Declan nodded as his throat convulsed on a swallow, and his eyes darkened with heady, vulnerable emotions that pulled at Wren's heart. "I genuinely thought it would lessen the eventual agony."
She scooted closer, pleased when he settled his left arm low around her waist as she cradled his face in her hand, brushing her thumb against his whiskered jaw, and whispered, "Of what?"
"Of your passing," Declan answered, his voice barely loud enough for her to hear, but the words still managed to pierce her to her soul.
With her heart in her throat and tears blurring her vision, she asked, "Am I sick and dyin' soon and don't know it?"
He tucked an errant lock of hair behind her left ear and shook his head. "Wooly asked me that same question."
"You talked to him about this?"
"He's the only one I've ever been able to explain everything to... said he could tell something wasn't right between us these past couple of months."
"What'd he say?" She whispered.
Declan's lips curled in a self-deprecating smile, "He told me to quit focusing so much on the future, or I'll miss what makes right now worth living, then more or less said I needed to tell you why I was acting a fool."
She rested her cheek on his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist as she murmured, "He's a wise man, that brother of yours."
Declan chuckled and slowly rubbed his hand across her low back and hip. "I taught him everything he knows."
Wren poked him in the stomach, "Includin' all the finer virtues you have in abundance, like humility and kindness?"
"Of course."
Tilting her head back, she caressed his beloved face and traced the subtle arches of his black eyebrows, drinking in the sight of him as she quietly asked, "So you're through keepin' your hands off me?"
"Yup," he whispered, love, yearning, and desire flaring brightly in the depths of his blue eyes as they stared into hers.
"Promise?"
"Cross my heart, pretty bird," he nodded, "I was a fool to do it in the first place... makes my stomach hurt to think of all our time together I've wasted and missed because of it. You're gonna have to beat me away with a stick now."
"Why would I go and do a silly thing like that?" Wren grinned, threading her fingers through his hair and cupping the back of his head. She sighed when he kissed her forehead and nose and was barely able to finish her thought when the corner of his mouth touched the corner of hers. "When havin' your hands all over me is my second favorite thing?"
He pulled away enough to look at her, his eyes and grin roguish when he whispered, "What's your first favorite?"
"Come a little closer, my love," she breathed against his lips, a world of unspoken promises harbored in those six words, "and I'll show you."
Glorious, bright sunshine spilled through the open window, declaring the beginning of a new morning and reminding Declan he'd forgotten to close the curtains after relieving himself last night.
He groaned against the intrusive glare, pulled the covers higher to shield him and Wren against the chill in the air, and hugged her closer to his body just as Eldon threw the bedroom door wide open and gleefully hollered, "SAINT NICK CAME!"
Wren startled awake and clutched the covers to her throat while pushing onto an elbow to smile sleepily at her brother as she brushed her wild mass of auburn waves out of her face. "He did?"
"Yep, and he left me a new pair of slippers," Eldon grinned, lifting his right foot high into the air. "They're better'n last year, Wren. Think he has new elves workin' for him?"
Declan chuckled and reached out of the covers to scratch Luella as she sidled up to the bed for some attention. "Morning, sweet girl."
"Ooooh, those are somethin' special," Wren smiled, her voice slipping into a yawn.
"Looks like he done left ya some too, Gobby," Eldon excitedly chirped, pointing and shuffling forward to take a closer look; then he gasped in delight before exclaiming, "THEY LOOK LIKE MINE."
Declan laughed, his ears ringing as he reached out and tousled Eldon's curls. "Mama and everyone here yet for opening presents?"
"Nope."
"Why don't you go wake 'em all up? Tell 'em to get their lazy hides on over here so we can get things started."
Eldon giggled and raced into the hallway with Luella close behind as he shouted, "I'LL BE QUICK AS A BLINK."
"CHANGE INTO YOUR BOOTS," Declan hollered, leaning on an elbow and cringing when the kitchen door slammed shut. "He's gonna land there barefooted on his backside," he muttered.
"Probably," Wren chuckled against his chest, kissing his left pectoral directly atop his hammering heart.
"Merry Christmas," Declan whispered as he laid back down, caressing her bare left arm from wrist to shoulder, then trailing his fingers across her back to the dramatic dip and flare of her waist underneath the covers.
She tilted her head back with a joyful smile, "Merry Christmas to you too."
"How'd you sleep?"
"Better than I have in a long while," she murmured, brushing hair off his forehead. "You?"
"Yup," Declan nodded as he waggled his eyebrows, a playful glint in his eyes as he teased, "that is, once we got around to sleepin'."
"How's your leg feelin'?" She giggled as she lightly poked him in his stomach.
"Sore, but better than yesterday," Declan admitted with a quick kiss to Wren's lips before sitting up with a groan. Grabbing his nightshirt from the floor, he pulled it over his head, then reached for her nightgown clinging to the footboard as he winked at her and said, "We oughta get decent, or there's gonna be a whole bunch of furniture movin' when everyone arrives."
"No sense puttin' that back on when I may as well dress for the day," she saucily retorted, ignoring her nightgown and hurrying over to the dresser to retrieve clean bloomers and chemise.
"I thought you moved all your clothes downstairs?" Declan murmured, more than a little distracted as he watched her get dressed in her undergarments.
"Not enough space."
"So you admit you were sleeping in a closet?"
She grinned at him over her right shoulder before crossing to the washstand to clean her face and brush her teeth, then walked to the wardrobe, heightening his curiosity until she finally said, "Mama and Papa might have intended it to be a closet when they first built this house, but it was my bedroom for three years."
"You're teasing me," Declan said as he carefully stood and limped to the washstand decided against shaving and settled on only brushing his hair and teeth, then hobbled to the dresser, relieved that his leg was significantly less swollen and painful than yesterday as he pulled on his long johns and trousers.
She shook her head.
His lips quirked in a wry grin as he tossed his nightshirt into the wicker basket. "You spent three years in there?"
"Yep," she nodded, "tripped on the stairs so often the first few months we were livin' here that Papa said I was twice as wobbly as a newborn calf. Didn't trust I could go up and down 'em without breakin' my neck."
His stomach clenched, and an ache settled around his heart at thinking of how close Duke was to being right. "How'd you convince him otherwise?"
Wren flashed her dimpled grin as she finished buttoning the bodice on her faded green velvet gown, and it was all Declan could do not to haul her in his arms and drag her back to bed, Christmas morning be damned. "Listened to my mama and made an effort to take the stairs real slow. Turns out she was right all along."
"About what?" He chuckled, grabbing a shirt from a drawer and pulling it over his head.
"It was relative early days after losin' Miriam and Albert, and I was always goin' too fast—still am sometimes," Wren smiled, her tone wistful. "Mama said I was tryin' to hurry through life to avoid the pain when what I needed was to slow down 'cause heartbreak comes either way; it's the joy we miss instead."
"Did you know she wasn't just talking about you taking the stairs?" Declan quietly asked with a smile.
Wren brushed her hair, then twisted and pinned it into a bun. "Not at first... but Mama always had a way of makin' me look deeper later on, and there's been many a time since that I've found myself trippin' on those blasted stairs hearin' her say those words to me and rememberin' the lesson."
"DID SOMEONE SAY IT WAS CHRISTMAS?" Wolstan hollered as he entered the kitchen, followed by Eldon and Mae giggling.
"YOU WAS S'POSED TO SAY, 'HO, HO, HO,' WOOLY," Eldon laughingly exclaimed.
Grinning, Declan limped over to Wren and took her in his arms. "Ready to start your first Mitchell Christmas?"
"Between you and your brother, I can only wonder what I've gotten myself into," Wren quietly teased.
Declan chuckled and swooped in for what he intended to be one last fervent kiss to her lips before joining the rest of their family downstairs.
But then Wren twined her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers in his hair, and before Declan knew it, he'd backed her against the wardrobe door and settled his mouth atop hers with possessive, voracious need, a thundering heartbeat away from undressing and leading her back to their bed until Eldon shouted up the stairs, "WOOLY SAYS STOP MOVIN' FURNITURE AND COME DOWN HERE YOU TWO."
With the delectable smell of hot cinnamon sticky buns and Emmaline's breakfast casserole wafting on the air, everyone sat in the front parlor, a roaring fire in the massive stone fireplace, and Eldon named honorary Saint Nick, complete with a deep crimson conical cap trimmed in white rabbit fur and bobble on the pointy end.
"What do I do again?" Eldon asked, sitting cross-legged in front of the tree.
"Hand everyone a gift with their name on it," Emerson grinned, "and we'll—"
"All open them at once," Declan teased with a playful wink at Wren beside him on the sofa, "he loves it when we all tear into the presents at the same time—"
"Go around opening in an orderly fashion," Emerson corrected with a dramatic roll of his eyes and a widening smile, continuing as though he hadn't been interrupted, "so everyone can see what everybody got—"
"And know whether Saint Nick oughta be scolded and barred from entering the house next year," Wolstan laughingly interrupted. "I've never forgiven him for when I requested a new watercolor set, and he gave me a jar labeled magic dirt—magic my foot. I spent months planting all sorts of seeds in that soil, and not a damn thing ever grew other than my frustration."
Wren glanced at Emmaline and bit back a giggle when she blushed to her hairline and said, "I'm sure he meant well, honey."
Emerson kissed her cheek and nodded, "Or he had every intention of getting you that new watercolor set, but those crafty elves made a switch at the last minute and surprised the both of you."
"The same ones that made me and Declan our matchin' slippers?" Eldon asked, his eyes wide with excitement.
"The very same," Emerson nodded, winking at Wren.
Declan snorted a laugh, "That was the year I got a used bar of soap—not even a chunk of coal, which I was expecting. Used. Soap. Like the old man decided his bath soap would teach me a better lesson instead. It did—he favored the same scent as Mama, but that was beside the point."
"How d'ya know it was used?" Eldon giggled.
"It had a hair on it."
Wren covered a laugh and leaned against him as Eldon scrunched his nose in confusion. "Huh?"
"Declan," Emmaline scolded with a giggle. "You're too much, but I do love you, my dear."
"I know, Mama," he murmured with a wink, settling his arm around Wren and making her heart swell near to bursting in her chest. "I love you too."
"Who goes first?" Eldon asked, staring at the array of presents under the tree. "Where do I begin?"
"Find one with your name on it, honey," Emmaline said with a warm smile, "and set it aside so you know where it is when you've finished handing out."
Declan grinned at Wren, "Then give your sister that big one with the red and white string around it. That'll clear up some more room."
Her heart raced, and her stomach fluttered as she leaned close and whispered, "You got me somethin'?"
He gave her a funny, almost sad look and kissed her cheek as he whispered in her ear, "'Course I did. It's Christmas."
Cradling his face, she pulled away just enough to stare into his eyes as she softly said, "But I was so unkind—"
"You're my wife, and I love you," he tenderly interrupted, then stole a kiss before Eldon arrived with the large package in his arms and set it in her lap.
"Do I open it now, or am I waitin' till everyone has one?" Wren asked, barely able to contain the nervous excitement making her hands tremble atop the box.
"Wait," Declan, Wolstan, and Emerson said in unison.
Wren blinked several times and giggled as she leaned into Declan and whispered, "I take it by you and your brother's tone that you don't enjoy this part?"
A low rumbly chuckle escaped him, and he mumbled his appreciation as Eldon handed him a gift, then hurried over to the tree for another present. "The building anticipation is one of the worst best parts of Christmas every year."
"Who came up with the rule?" She asked, watching as Mae, then Emmaline received their gifts.
"My daddy," Declan murmured with a tender smile. "He always said this was his favorite part and wanted a way to make it last longer. This was his solution. We didn't appreciate it when we were younger... the excitement and all."
Wren nodded in understanding, "I keep havin' to bite my tongue so I don't shout for Eldon to toss Uncle Em his present now that Wooly has his."
"I've done that a time or two," Declan laughed.
"All right," Emerson said as he glanced around the room, his eyes twinkling with delight, "everyone have their gift?"
"You know they do," Wolstan chuckled, "you were watching like a hawk the entire time, no doubt wondering why Eldon gave you yours last."
Emmaline giggled and kissed him on the cheek, "They tease you out of love, my darling."
"Who's opening first?" Declan asked as he scratched his left cheek. "We doing this by age or eye color?"
"Wren's got two different ones," Eldon chirped.
Declan waggled his brows at her, "Guess that means she's the special one and gets to open first."
Everyone turned and stared at her with expectant smiles, and Wren couldn't help but smile back, pausing to savor the warmth and love permeating the entire house, enveloping everybody within before she tore the paper off.
By the size and weight, she'd assumed the gift to be somewhat substantial, but when Wren opened the box, she stared in amazement at the prettiest green floral cloth she'd ever seen.
"It's a dress," Declan whispered as Wren reached in and touched the fabric. "To replace the one lost with your fall in the fire. I know it was one your mama made you... so I asked Mama if she and Mae could use it for a pattern and remake it."
"We tried to find something similar at the General Store," Emmaline grinned with love shining in her eyes, clutching her hands beneath her chin.
"And if you look inside the bodice," Mae smiled with a delicate pink staining her cheeks, "we used some of the material of your old gown to line it... so there's always something of your mama close to your heart."
Tears blurred Wren's eyes, spilling from her lashes as she set the box in Declan's lap and quickly crossed to hug Emmaline and Mae, unable to speak past the lump of emotion wedged in her throat.
After resuming her seat and kissing Declan in appreciation for his part in her gift, Wren watched through tears as everyone around her opened their gifts and blushed with pride at receiving praise for the tooled handmade leather presents she'd made, each with different designs—pocket purses for Mae and Emmaline, and knife holsters for Wolstan, Emerson, and Declan.
Eldon received a tooled holster of his own with two left boots she'd spent countless evenings over the past miserable and lonely hours painstakingly imprinting in the leather. But what Wren hadn't foreseen was Declan had, in his usual magical way, gifted him a neckless of 'cougar teeth' along with a carved wooden replica of his Remington revolver that fit flawlessly inside.
"Don't worry. Kildare assures me they're just some old dog teeth he found," Declan softly chuckled amid Eldon's excitement.
"They're perfect," Wren assured him with a wide grin.
"Wooly and I have one more gift for you and Eldon," Mae said after everyone had opened all their other gifts under the tree, scooting to the edge of the loveseat and motioning for Wolstan to stand and reveal a long, large present hidden behind the sofa. "They're a few of our morning drawings from when we first arrived at the ranch, so it's a blending of our styles... some of our best work, if I'm honest."
Wren glanced at Declan in silent question, but he shook his head. "Eldon," she murmured, her stomach fluttering with nerves, "you wanna come open this with me since it's for the both of us?"
"Yep," he chirped with a wide grin, holstering his new wooden revolver.
"Where you want me to set it?" Wolstan asked.
"How about across my lap?" Declan quietly said, "That way, you two can sit on either side of me—"
"And ya won't feel left out?" Eldon said as he hopped onto the couch at Declan's right.
Declan grinned and nodded, "Yup."
Once the three of them were settled, Wolstan lifted and lowered the oblong gift across their laps, and Wren was shocked to find it spanned the length of them combined and then some.
"It sure is heavy. What is it?" Eldon frowned.
"You have to open it to find out," Wolstan chuckled, returning to his seat by Mae and holding her hand.
With a quick look at her brother to see if he was ready, Wren and Eldon each took a corner and peeled away the paper covering the present. Considering what Mae had said, she'd expected something artistic, and for the length and size, she'd thought it might be a landscape of the mountain range.
However, not in a million lifetimes did it enter her mind that once she removed the paper, Wren would be staring at a beautifully framed series of five watercolors depicting the three cherished faces she'd never see in this life again, all how she wanted to remember them—with love and joy in her mama's eyes, mischief and adoration in her papa's, and playful with a healthy dose of arrogance in Dorsey's.
They each were done in a single portrait as though they'd sat for hours before the master artist, allowing every minute detail to be captured on parchment.
The first of the remaining two paintings was of Duke and Nessie, their beloved mountains behind them, hand in hand, as they stared at one another in such a look of adoration as to make a person believe they were the only two in existence. It was a moment Wren had witnessed only a time or two in reality but now had it preserved forever.
And the last showed Dorsey and Duke leaning against the corral, their handsome faces split in wide grins—as though in response to some witty remark her Papa had just made—so alike that if it weren't for Dorsey's auburn hair and leaner physique, they could have passed for the same person.
"I love it," Wren tearfully whispered, not even realizing she'd started crying until a fat teardrop splattered on her bodice and another on the glass. Then, looking at Mae and Wolstan, she wiped at her face and reached across the sofa arm toward them, "Thank you both so much for this. It's beautiful."
"It was our pleasure," Mae sniffled with a warm smile. "We love you."
"You all right, Leftboots?" Declan murmured, wrapping his arm around Eldon's shoulders and craning his neck to look at him.
Wiping his face on his sleeve, Eldon looked at Declan, then leaned forward and tearfully smiled at Wren. "I won't have to worry 'bout forgettin' 'em no more."
Wren swallowed against the lump in her throat and leaned her head on Declan's shoulder as she reached across his lap and took Eldon's hand in hers, knowing she'd never felt more loved and at peace than at that moment surrounded by her family, her teary gaze sliding to the three faces she missed the most. "Nope. They'll be clearer than any memory now, huh, little man?"
"Almost like they're right here with us," Eldon whispered.