Santa's Texas Lullaby
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Cathy Gillen Thacker
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Chapter One
Amanda Witherspoon had heard Riley McCabe was returning to Laramie, Texas to join the Laramie Community Hospital staff, but she hadn’t actually seen the handsome family physician until Friday afternoon when he stormed into the staff lounge in the pediatrics wing.
Nearly fourteen years had passed, but his impact on her was the same. Just one look into his mesmerizing amber eyes made her pulse race, and her emotions skyrocket. He had been six foot when he left for college, now he was even taller. Back then he had worn his sun-streaked light brown hair any which way. Now the thick wavy strands were cut in a sophisticated urban fashion, parted neatly on the left and brushed casually to the side. His lanky body filled out his button-down shirt, V-necked Fair Isle sweater and jeans in an exceedingly appealing way. He looked solid and fit, mouthwateringly sexy, and every inch the kind of grown man who knew exactly who he was and what he wanted out of life. The kind not to be messed with. The sound of holiday music playing on the hospital sound system and the Christmas tree in the corner only added to the fantasy-come-true quality of the situation.
Had Amanda not known better, she would have thought Riley McCabe’s return to her life would have been the Christmas present to beat all Christmas presents, meant to liven up her increasingly dull and dissatisfying life. But wildly exciting things like that never happened to Amanda.
“Notice I’m not laughing,” Riley McCabe growled as he stormed close enough for her to inhale the fragrance of soap and brisk, wintry cologne clinging to his skin.
“Notice,” Amanda returned dryly, wondering what the famously mischievous prankster was up to now, “neither am I.”
Riley marched toward her, attractive jaw thrust out pugnaciously, thick straight brows raised in mute admonition. “I would have figured we were beyond all this.”
Amanda had hoped that would be the case, too. After all, she was a registered nurse, he a doctor. But given the fact that the Riley McCabe she recalled had been as full of mischief as the Texas sky was big, that had been a dangerous supposition to make. “All what?” she repeated around the sudden dryness of her throat. As he neared her, all the air left her lungs in one big whoosh.
“The practical jokes! But you just couldn’t resist, could you?”
Amanda put down the sandwich she had yet to take a bite of and took a long sip of her diet soda. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said coolly. Unless this was the beginning of yet another ploy to get her attention?
“Don’t you?” he challenged, causing another shimmer of awareness to sift through her.
Deciding that sitting while he stood over her gave him too much of a physical advantage, she pushed back her chair and rose slowly to her feet. She was keenly aware that he now had a good six inches on her, every one of them as bold and masculine as the set of his lips. “I didn’t think you were due to start working here until January 2,” she remarked, a great deal more casually than she felt.
He stood in front of her, arms crossed against his chest, legs braced apart, every inch of him taut and ready for action. “I’m not.”
“So?” She ignored the intensity in the long-lashed amber eyes that threatened to throw her off balance. “How could I possibly play a prank on you if I didn’t think you were going to be here?”
“Because,” he enunciated clearly, “you knew I was going to start setting up my office in the annex today.”
Amanda sucked in a breath and tilted her head back to glare up at him. “I most certainly did not!” she insisted. Although she might have considered a practical joke had she realized he intended to pick up right where they had left off all those years ago. Matching wits and wills. The one thing she had never wanted to cede to the reckless instigator was victory of any kind.
Riley leaned closer, not stopping until they were practically close enough to kiss. “Listen to me, Amanda, and listen good. Playing innocent is not going to work with me. And neither,” he warned, even more forcefully, “is your latest gag.”
Amanda regarded him in a devil-may-care way designed to get under his skin as surely as he was already getting under hers. “I repeat—” she spoke as if to the village idiot “—I have no idea what you are talking about, Doctor McCabe. Now do you mind? I only have a forty-five minute break and I’d like to eat my lunch.”
He flashed her an incendiary smile that left her feeling more aware of him than ever. “I’ll gladly leave you alone just as soon as you collect them.”
Amanda blinked, more confused than ever. “Collect who?” she asked incredulously.
Riley walked back to the door. Swung it open wide. On the other side was the surprise of Amanda’s life.
IF RILEY HAD GONE STRICTLY by the stunned and baffled look on his former antagonist’s face, he would have thought Amanda Witherspoon was entirely innocent in the commotion that had just gone on down in the hospital’s main lobby.
But four years of nonstop high school rivalry had taught him that no one could plan and execute a ruse better than the beautiful woman before him. Amanda stared at the triple stroller, currently being manned by two college-age hospital volunteers—Riley’s twenty-one-year-old sister, Laurel, and her friend, premed student Micki Evans.
Amanda’s glance moved over the three children ensconced in holiday clothing. “I take it these aren’t patients?” Amanda guessed finally.
Riley gave a reassuring smile to the three kids. He had no idea who they belonged to, but they were incredibly cute, nevertheless. The infant—Cory—had short dark hair and inquisitive eyes so dark blue he knew they would eventually turn brown. Amber, the toddler, was practically bald; her thin blond hair barely covered her crown. But she had an infectious smile and a sunny, easygoing personality. Chloe, the preschooler, had a mane of wildly curly light brown hair that stopped at her shoulders, and light blue eyes that radiated more natural mischief than Riley’s ever had in his prime. Riley had tried talking to them, to get to the bottom of whatever was going on here—to no avail. The baby merely cooed, the toddler babbled happily but incoherently, and the preschooler was so stubbornly mute it appeared they were playing a game Riley was not in the mood for. Scowling, Riley turned back to Amanda. He could understand her wanting to pick up the jokes again, even if they were a little old for such shenanigans. His life had never been more enthralling than when they had been testing each other’s wills and skills. But this ploy was, in his estimation, way over the line of acceptable behavior. And he was determined to make Amanda Witherspoon understand that.
Micki Evans piped up nervously, “Laurel and I found them outside one of the entrances when we were coming in to volunteer this morning.”
“There was an envelope addressed to Riley attached to the stroller,” Riley’s younger sister, Laurel, quickly put in. “And for the record, I don’t think you had anything to do with this, Amanda.”
“Thank you,” Amanda said.
“Well, I do,” Riley groused. And he was damn furious about it. He didn’t care how beautiful Amanda Witherspoon had become over the years. Or how sweetly sexy she looked in her pale blue nurse’s uniform and white cotton sweater. She might appear innocent enough with her dark blond hair tucked into a casual ponytail at the nape of her neck, with sprigs of lighter blond hair escaping to frame her face in wispy strands. But Riley knew better. Her wide-set turquoise eyes radiated a spunk and daring that warned him not to be taken in by her soft feminine lips, stubborn chin and pert straight nose. Her fair skin might be lit with a glow that seemed to come from within, her cheeks a pale, becoming pink, but that did not mean she was the least bit trustworthy. Not when it came to him. Which was why, Riley schooled himself firmly, he could not let himself dwell on the new fullness of her breasts, the admirable slenderness of her waist, and the enticing curve of her hips. Never mind the lithe, graceful way she moved. Nor could he let himself wonder if her legs—now hidden by her uniform trousers—were as sexy and lissome as he recalled.
He was not here to woo her, but to call her to task.
Not that she looked ready to own up to anything she had done.
“May I read the note?” Amanda asked.
Curious to see how she was going to play this ruse out, Riley set his lips grimly and handed the red envelope over. Their hands brushed. He noted Amanda’s hands were trembling slightly as she removed a Christmas card with a jolly old Saint Nick, adorned in cowboy hat and boots and holding a rope in his hand, featured prominently on the front of it. “I lassoed you a present,” Amanda read out loud, before turning the page. Brow furrowed, she cleared her throat and continued reading out loud. “Dear Riley, Four-year-old Chloe, seventeen-month-old Amber, and four-month-old Cory need the kind of love only a daddy with a heart the size of Texas can give. Please do right by them and see they have a very merry Christmas. Santa.”
Amanda’s lips formed a round O of surprise as she looked up at Riley. “You have three children?” she asked in amazement. “I didn’t even know you were married!”
If Riley had been in a charitable mood, he would have given her an Academy Award for her acting. He was not in a charitable mood. “I’m not married,” he told her flatly.
Amanda’s eyes widened. “Wow. I mean, I remember you as being sort of irresponsible and joking around all the time, but…wow,” she stammered again.
Temper surging, Riley turned to his younger sister and her friend. “Would you mind taking the children to the playroom down the hall?” he asked in a low, clipped voice, doing his best to keep his emotions under control lest he upset the children.
“No problem,” Laurel said with a nervous smile. She wheeled the triple stroller around with Micki’s help, and they all exited.
Once again, Riley and Amanda were quite alone. “Guess you’ve been a little busy since you left Laramie,” Amanda quipped as she picked up her sandwich, slid it back into the paper bag bearing her name, and placed it in the fridge.
Not that busy, Riley thought. “Those aren’t my kids,” he repeated firmly.
Amanda tilted her head at him. “Tell that to the kids’ mother,” she suggested skeptically.
Riley planned on that and much more. An outrageous act like this would not pass without retribution. He promised Amanda Witherspoon that. “Which brings us to the next point,” he continued calmly, looking deep into her eyes. “What kind of mother would let you use her children to play a joke on me?”
GOOD QUESTION, Amanda thought. Only she wasn’t playing a joke on Riley McCabe. Which could only mean one thing—he had to be playing a joke on her. The kind that would break all records in the history of their long-running feud. “Forgive me for trying to get you to do the right thing,” she said with a shrug, aware staff were gathering in the hall just outside the lounge.
“So you admit you’re behind this!” Riley crowed, ignoring the implication that the trio of children was his.
“I admit,” Amanda countered, as she stalked away from him and out into the hallway, “you’re a fool if you think you can get away with trying to publicly embarrass me. And furthermore—” she whirled around to face him once again “—had I known when I accepted a position as pediatric nurse here two months ago that you were going to show up here, too, I would have found some other small and charming West Texas town in which to live and work!”
Riley studied the indignant blush warming her face and neck. “If I were you I would admit I was bested and call a halt to this right now.”
“Hey!” Amanda angled an accusing finger his way. “I’m not the one with three children spirited away to the pediatric floor playroom.”
Riley lifted a dissenting brow. The air between them practically sizzled with sexual sparks. “Aren’t you?”
Oh, no, Amanda thought as dread spiraled inside her. She knew that look. The look that said Riley was about to do something even wilder and crazier than what had already been done.
“Is it true?” Meg Lockhart-Carrigan, LCH director of nursing, finally piped up. She and her husband, Luke, had a brood of four. Meg looked Riley in the eye. “Are those children yours?”
“Actually,” Riley smiled, wrapping an arm around Amanda’s shoulder. “They’re ours.”
A gasp went through the hallway as even more staff, patients and parents gathered to witness the unfolding scene.
Amanda could feel the blood first draining, then rushing, to her face. Damn you, Riley McCabe. She clamped her lips together and spoke out of the side of her mouth. “Stop. Teasing.”
“Who’s kidding?” Riley said, clearly enjoying himself. He slid his arm down to her waist and hauled her against his length. “I’ve been trying to get this woman to marry me for ages now. She won’t do it. Not even after the two of us had three children in secret.”
Amanda’s fists curled at her sides. If ever she had wanted to knock someone’s block off, it was now. Her eyebrows climbed higher. “Riley, cut it out,” she ordered sweetly.
Riley grinned back at her mischievously. “Only if you agree to make an honest man of me.”
“Now that would be hard to do.”
“Not really,” he said softly, his low sensual voice doing strange things to her insides. “Someone want to call the hospital chaplain?”
“Maybe he could help,” Meg Lockhart-Carrigan said, already reaching for the phone at the nurses’ station.
“I always knew there were sparks between the two of you,” someone murmured.
“I didn’t know they were this hot!” someone else chimed in.
The chaplain bustled into the throng. “Someone call?” Reverend Bleeker asked.
“Yes. I’d like to know if I can marry Amanda Witherspoon here and now,” Riley said.
Reverend Bleeker’s brow lifted. He had known them both since childhood, had borne witness to their youthful tomfoolery. “Is there a reason you’re in such a hurry?”
Riley shrugged his broad shoulders. With maddening nonchalance, he clamped a hand on her shoulder and turned her back to face him. “It’s the only way I can think to put an end to the scandal.”
Amanda stared at him, her throat dry. She had to hand it to him. He was playing out this crazy hoax to the end.
Reverend Bleeker looked at Amanda.
All too aware of the warmth of Riley McCabe’s strong, capable fingers radiating through her clothing to her skin, Amanda stated just as decisively, “I’m sure there’s another way.”
“I don’t know how when the lives of our three unclaimed children are at stake,” Riley countered with exaggerated sincerity.
Amanda started counting to ten. Slowly.
“Unless, of course, you’re afraid to marry me,” Riley continued. Leaning closer, he goaded Amanda relentlessly.
She shrugged free of his light restraining grip and propped her hands on her hips. “Why would I be afraid?” she retorted, telling herself she was not going to get roped into any wildly exciting romantic drama with him.
Riley lifted his broad shoulders in an indolent shrug. His eyes lasered into hers. “You tell me,” he taunted.
“Actually, Riley, I’d love to marry you, right here and right now, in front of all these witnesses,” Amanda fibbed, determinedly matching him jab for jab. “But it wouldn’t be legal without a license.”
Reverend Bleeker cleared his throat. “Actually,” he corrected calmly, “it would be quite valid—as long as the two of you entered into this marriage in good faith.”
Amanda did her best to retain her nerve. “Meaning?”
“You could get married right this very minute, if you wanted,” Revered Bleeker reassured them with an encouraging smile.
Amanda’s knees began to wobble. She struggled to keep a poker face. “What about a blood test?”
Reverend Bleeker spoke as much to the crowd gathering in the hall of the pediatric wing as to the two of them. “None are required in Texas.”
You’re not helping me out here, Reverend, Amanda thought. “What about a license, then?” she asked, determined to find a face-saving way out of this mess Riley had gotten them into with his bravado. Not that she didn’t deserve it, since years ago she had inadvertently pulled what had started out to be a peace offering and ended up being a very humiliating prank on him before she left town to go to nursing school in California, and he went off to college in Texas. She could hardly blame Riley if he didn’t excuse her for embarrassing the heck out of him—she could hardly forgive herself.
“You have up to thirty days to apply for a license after you say your I Do’s,” Reverend Bleeker continued informatively.
Riley frowned, abruptly looking as concerned about the specifics of this mess they were suddenly in as Amanda felt. “Then what’s that seventy-two hour waiting period all about?” Riley asked.
“That’s how long it takes for the license to be valid, after the application is made,” Reverend Bleeker explained.
And there was her out, Amanda thought. She wouldn’t apply for a license. So the marriage would never be legal. Even if known prankster Riley goaded her into taking this ruse to the max. Which of course she hoped like heck he wouldn’t. “Fine,” Amanda said, looking at Riley and daring him to push her—and this farce—even one inch further, and see exactly what it got him. “Then let’s do it!”
RILEY HAD EXPECTED Amanda Witherspoon to back out way before now. The fact she hadn’t, impressed him almost as much as it irritated him. Not about to be the one to cry uncle in this battle of wills, he merely smiled, took her hand and said to Reverend Bleeker, “I’m every bit as ready to go through with this as Amanda.”
Although Amanda’s pretty smile stayed in place, Riley thought he saw her will falter just a bit as he looked into her eyes.
“Would you like to go to the chapel?” Reverend Bleeker asked.
And do this before all that was holy?
“No,” Riley and Amanda said abruptly in unison.
“Here is fine,” Riley stated, amazed to find the Reverend not harboring objections of his own. Instead, the chaplain appeared as if he had expected something like this from the two of them all along.
“Yes, let’s do it right here,” Amanda concurred. She turned to Riley and batted her eyelashes at him coquettishly. “So long as you realize, Riley, that I won’t obey.”
As if he were that crazy and naive! He had known, even as a kid, that Amanda Witherspoon was as headstrong as she was beautiful. “All I ask is that you honor me.” Riley used his grip on her hand to tug her closer still. Damn, but she smelled good. More expensive, grown-up, and sexy than he recalled her in her youth, even with the hint of hospital antiseptic clinging to her clenched palm. “You can do that, can’t you, Amanda?” he taunted.
Amanda replied with a delicate shrug and kept her eyes locked stubbornly with his. “Um. Sure.” Her delicate brow furrowed. “I guess.”
It was all Riley could do to keep from rolling his eyes as Revered Bleeker opened the small prayer book from the inside pocket of his blazer. “Very well,” Reverend Bleeker said with a great deal less reluctance than Riley would have expected, “if there are no further objections…”
Unfortunately, Riley noted, there weren’t.
“We are gathered here today to unite Riley McCabe and Amanda Witherspoon in marriage…Riley, do you take this woman…?”
For everything she’s worth, including, and especially, her pride. “I surely do.” Riley gave Amanda a crocodile smile and with great satisfaction saw her falter, just a little, again.
“Amanda, do you take this man…?”
Amanda flashed Riley a dirt-eating grin, that told him she was not, and had never been, a pushover. “Oh, I absolutely do,” she agreed in a voice dripping with Texas sugar.
“Since we don’t have rings we will dispense with that part of the ceremony,” Reverend Bleeker said.
Thank goodness for small miracles, Riley thought, as he pushed away the unlikely but nevertheless sweetly lingering possibility of eventually getting Amanda in his bed. He didn’t want this “union of hearts and souls” feeling any more real than it already did before he could get the deservedly embarrassed and humbled Amanda to cry uncle and legally undo it.
Out of the corner of his eyes, Riley saw hospital chief of staff, Dr. Jackson McCabe rounding the corner of the hall. Obviously, his uncle had been informed of what was going on and the talented surgeon looked none too pleased. Right behind Jackson was Riley’s stepmother, Kate Marten McCabe, who was the hospital psychologist and grief counselor. She looked irked and exasperated as all get out, too.
“Riley, you may kiss your bride,” Reverend Bleeker said.
And figuring it had to be better than the rest of the options facing him, Riley did.
