Page 51 of The Cowboy's Miracle Baby

Cami backed away from the corner of the stage and leaned against the wall. There really was something wrong with her. She couldn’t seem to control her wayward thoughts when he was nearby. It was probably just a crush. Was that even a thing for a nearly thirty-year-old woman?

A few minutes ago, he’d texted her to tell her he’d learned some info on Tara and to wish her luck. She started to text him back with a little heart emoji. Then she deleted it. Then she sent it.

Then she questioned her entire existence.

“Ready to go?” asked someone behind her. Her co-director, Trina Parker, was grinning at her. Dressed in a period gown—made expertly from a bedsheet—she was standing hands on her hips, watching Cami. “Or do you need a little more ogle time?”

“Okay, I was not ogling. And yes, I’m ready. Are you? How about Reverend Milner?”

“He’s ready. Keep your fingers and toes crossed that our kids don’t devolve into chaos. Let’s do this,” Trina said.

The lights went down, and the audience quieted. And the reverend started the service with a brief story about the origin of Christmas. As he spoke the Canaday family, who had generously trailered in the special effects for the pageant—a small donkey, two sheep for the shepherds, and an alpaca standing in for the wise men’s camel—readied them backstage. Trina was helping wrangle the animals along with Mrs. Canaday, who substitute-taught at the Sunday school here.

The church was soon echoing with hymns and full of holiday spirit as the children took their places. As the Christmas story unfolded and the reverend intertwined the story with hymns, little Joseph and Mary, wandered out across the chancel stage holding the miniature donkey. And the angels—Ella waved at her from the stage as she adjusted her wings—climbed up the little platform to stand near the sparkly paper stars hanging there.

Everything was going fine until…

“And the angels on high—” the reverend was saying, “who had come unto Mary…”

“Oh-oh. Oh no!” Trina whispered to Cami, pointing in the direction of Harrison Deitmore, their third wise man and inveterate troublemaker, who was standing up in the right-hand ambo across from the reverend’s pulpit, directing the singing of “O Come All Ye Faithful,” with a wave of his arms.

Cami dropped the shepherd’s hooks she was holding and raced behind the organ to get to him. By then, however, the audience was laughing, and Harrison was eating up the attention, so his invisible baton-waving got grander.

Cami whisper-shouted at the boy. “Harrison! Come down here. Right now!”

He ignored her, predictably, encouraged by the laughing in the audience. Behind her, the angels were dutifully playing their parts from the platform, sprinkling sparkles over the manger. And the alpaca wandered onto the stage without her wise man. Trina had abandoned her post to help get Harrison out of the ambo.

Meanwhile, the mini donkey began to bray with the music and Mary—little Leticia Miller—stood in the center of the chancel stage, holding the wrapped in swaddling clothes baby doll, looking like she wanted to cry.

“Harrison!” Trina shouted, finally marching up the three steps to tug him back down.

“Oh, my gosh!” Cami gulped air, whispering to Trina as they took Harrison toward his entrance point. “What. Is. Happening?”

“The parents are loving it. Don’t freak out.”

“No! Harrison, you listen now. You go right now and get that alpaca and then walk over to the baby Jesus with your frankincense. Go straight there, you hear me? The other boys will join you.”

And then the reverend—the sweet reverend—came to her rescue. “And the wise men traveled great distances with many travails to reach Jerusalem.”Insert big laugh here from the audience.“Encountering hostile environments and long, uphill journeys to reach their goal. But they finally arrived just after Mary gave birth.”

“Spotlight!” Cami pointed at the high school boy running the lights, who was understandably distracted by the shenanigans on stage. He flipped on the heavenly spotlight on the manger where a doll stood in for the real thing.

Suddenly the stage was filled with all of the children as the North Star began swinging wildly over the angels. The reverend directed another hymn, “Angels We Have Heard on High” to be sung.

It was at that moment, Cami risked a look out at the audience. At her family, who were laughing and singing along with everyone else; at Gus and Luke, whose gazes were trained on the little angels on the platform. And finally, she spotted Ryan, standing at the back of the sanctuary with his arm around—

A girl—a young woman—with hair that was long, and blonde, and tipped with pink.

Chapter Eleven

The family surroundedTara Howard who was holding Lolly in their living room at the Hard Eight. Gus and Ella had come, too, having a vested interest in all this. Cami was trying valiantly to keep it together, torn between relief that Tara had not only been found, but had come here on her own—and a kind of heartache she couldn’t even share with anyone at the thought of relinquishing this child she’d already fallen in love with so soon.

The crowded Christmas pageant had not been the place to question why or how she was there or what it meant, or the fact that her nephew apparently knew more about Tara than any of them. Cami had nothing but questions, but asked none of them at the church, where it had taken time to get through all the families thanking her for the pageant and laughing about how it was one they wouldn’t forget. Cami certainly wouldn’t either.

“I’m sorry,” Tara had managed to say when Cami approached her after the pageant. “I didn’t know what else to do.” Then she burst into tears.

“I know.” Cami had put an arm around her and promised they’d talk it out back at the ranch.

Tara had looked longingly at the baby Sarah was holding, but that, too, would have to wait until they were home.

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