Christmas in Texas by Rebecca Winters, Tina Leonard Page B

She’d hidden a small gift for Seagal under the tree, wrapped in
silver and gold with a red bow.
    She didn’t know if he’d come home to get it.
    Her heart would break if he didn’t.
    At the stroke of midnight, she heard the key turn in the lock.
Hope rose inside her.
    Seagal stepped inside the house, Santa hat perched jauntily
atop his dark hair. “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas,” he said.
    Capri smiled. “Hi, Santa.”
    Seagal closed the door behind him as cold air from outside blew
in along the floor. “It’s freezing outside. I got a text about cookies for
Santa?”
    Capri got up. “Gingerbread men brought by, fresh from Mrs.
Penny’s oven. She said she knew of a Ranger who loved cookies and hot tea.”
    He looked at her, tossed his Santa hat on the flowered sofa. “I
don’t know if I can eat the cookies the babies put out for Santa Claus.”
    Capri looked at her husband. “How about cookies your wife puts
out for you?”
    He remained by the door, not stepping a foot closer to her.
“After tomorrow, I don’t think I’ll have a wife.”
    “Something tells me I’m going to have a husband. I think the
Christmas spirit has made me believe the thing I want most will be here for
Christmas.”
    A smile bloomed on Seagal’s face. “You want a husband more than
anything?”
    “No,” Capri said, moving within arm’s length of Seagal, “not
just a husband. I want you, Seagal.”
    He studied her for a moment, glanced around the room, took in
the Christmas tree. His gaze settled back on her again. “I’m overbearing and
protective.”
    She nodded. “Yes, you are. And not much for sharing your
feelings.”
    “And that’s okay?”
    Capri smiled. “Yes to the first two—we’ll work on the last
one.” She put her hand in his. “You’re also a fine man. A loving father. And the
man I’m in love with.”
    He drew her into his arms. “Whatever made you change your mind,
I’m thankful for. I want you to be happy, even if it means walking into the
courthouse tomorrow.”
    She leaned up to kiss him. He stayed very still, accepting her
caress. “How about we just stay in bed? And play with the babies when they wake
up?”
    His eyes lit with everything she’d ever wanted to know about
his feelings: love, desire, happiness. “I love you,” Seagal said. “I love my
children, because you gave them to me.” He kissed her thoroughly, making sure
she had no doubt of the way he felt about her. He pulled back, looked into her
eyes. “Come on, Mrs. Claus. Let’s go look at our little sugarplums.”
    They walked down the hall hand in hand, stopping outside the
nursery. Seagal pushed open the door, and they went to stand by the babies’
cribs. Carter and Sara lay under their soft blankets, their tiny eyelids closed
tightly with not a care in the world.
    “Nestled all snug in their beds,” Seagal said. “They don’t even
know it’s Christmas.”
    “I do,” Capri said. “And I have something to give you.
Something that requires you to do a little unwrapping.”
    Capri smiled as Seagal picked her up in his arms. She put her
head on his chest, loving being back in his strong arms again. He carried her
from the nursery, and as they went through the kitchen, Capri snagged the plate
of cookies she’d laid out for Santa.
    After all, Santa needed to keep his strength up. She fully
intended that her husband would have a very merry Christmas—every year for the
rest of their lives.

Epilogue
    The babies slept in for the first time ever on
Christmas morning, but as soon as their little cries came over the baby monitor,
Seagal and Capri unwrapped themselves from each other’s arms and dressed.
    They hurried down the hall into the nursery. Seagal picked up
Sara, and Capri took Carter from his crib.
    “Good morning, beautiful,” Seagal said. “Merry Christmas,
babies,” he said, snuggling his daughter’s cheek. Sara stopped crying, taking in
her father’s deep voice and touch. Seagal grinned at Capri. “Santa