So last week, I shared a bit of my upcoming Christmas Western Menage with you- and I forgot to tell you the title! It's Merry's Christmas Cowboys.
Last week, I showed a flashback scene in Cowboy Blake's POV. This week I will share a scene written from Daddy Slade's POV.
My eyes narrowed to slits, and my answer came between gritted teeth. “The Ranch is your home. Nan, and Blake, and I, we’re your family.”
“You’ve never told Nan what really happened between us, have you? And now, she wants me back, and you and Blake would rather put up with me than tell her the truth and risk her wrath, is that it?”
My hands balled into fists at my side. “No, Merry, that’s not it. If it’s that important to you, I’ll call Nan and tell her the truth right now, but I can guarantee you it’s not going to change a damn thing so all you are doing here is stalling the inevitable.”
Her head jerked up and down. I had never seen so much sarcasm packed into a simple head nod before. “The inevitable, huh? Which is?”
The inevitable in my mind at the moment was her butt, my hand and Blake’s belt, but I wasn’t going to say that. “You, home, where you belong. We never asked you to leave, little one. You did that on your own.”
“You never would have. I knew that then, and I know it now. But I didn’t deserve to stay, and I don’t deserve to go back.”
This was a dead end convo, going nowhere. She had a gift for getting under my skin that way. I pulled myself back to a standing position, and strutted down the small hall without a word. I opened each door as I went, until I found the bedroom. Merry was hot on my heels.
“Slade! Slade David! What are you doing? You can’t just come here, into my home, and invade my privacy like this! Get out of my bedroom!” She was jumping on me, grabbing for my arms, and trying her hardest to stay my mission. It wasn’t working. I shrugged her off, and opened the closet, pulling two large suitcases off the top shelf, and tossing them open, onto the bed. Armfuls of clothes and shoes followed.
“What are you doing?” she shrieked, pulling clothes out as quickly as I put them in. I grabbed her wrist and held it.
“I’m helping you pack. Talking was getting us nowhere, and I’ve always been more of an action man, anyway. Now you can either help me, or you can sit down and be quiet, but if you get in my way again, you’re gonna find out what my next course of action will be, capiche?”
I think he's gonna get his way....