GABRIEL'S GIFT: A Lost Hearts Christmas Story by Christina Dodd

 
     
     
     
     
     
    From Christina Dodd: I introduced Gabriel Prescott in the Lost Hearts series, then continued his story throughout the Fortune Hunters series and DANGER IN A RED DRESS. Now he has his own business, a wife he adores, and he has found both his families. In this epilogue to Lost Hearts and the Fortune Hunters, he faces another crisis…
     
    Gabriel Prescott drove up the long, winding, gravel driveway to the house, set in the middle of his very own cattle ranch, and if it was possible for him to swagger in his seat, he was swaggering.
    He, Gabriel Prescott, former poor kid, former foster kid — he owned this place, and maybe most of the time he didn't take care of the horses or run the cattle himself, but when he felt the need to get into the saddle and make like a big tough cowboy, the crew boss welcomed him on the trail. And when he developed saddle sores and limped away, none of the real cowboys laughed … to his face. Because he was the guy who made sure no financial crisis stopped operations, daily meals were provided, and that the cowboys had a snug, warm bunkhouse.
    When he came here, he could look in any direction and it was his land he was seeing. Then he knew his life was perfect.
    Just about perfect. Almost perfect.
    As he got close to the house, the gravel turned to asphalt, then to concrete, and he stopped on the curved drive in front of the front door. He popped the trunk and got out one of the coolers, his suitcase, and a flower arrangement that looked a little worse for wear — maybe he shouldn't have stowed it in the trunk — and carried them up the stairs to the front porch. He unlocked the double front door, stepped inside, and listened to the blessed silence.
    It was Christmas Eve, and he had come early in the day to get ready for the family.
    He loved Christmas with the family. He really did. When he was a kid, he hadn't had Christmas, and now … to be one of the Prescott family, to have a wife, to own a couple of homes, to have a successful business, to have located his four half-brothers and solved the mystery of his own heritage … those things made his life complete.
    He was a lucky man. He needed to remember that. A lucky man.
    He got all the coolers inside, then unloaded them into the refrigerator. He got the wrapped gifts into the living room and settled into a pile. He turned up the heat and headed back out to the car for the second round of suitcases. He took a moment, just a moment, to appreciate the south Texas scenery.
    Some people declared this wasn't scenery, but desolation.
    Some people weren't from Texas.
    The flat land was bare of vegetation except for brown clumps of grass, rolling tumbleweeds and the occasional live oak, bent and twisted by the winds. Here and there the earth poked bony ocher elbows of rock out of the thin soil; the constantly shifting sunshine and shadow created an artist's palette of color. The sky was blue, thin blue along the horizon, deeper blue above. Sometimes he wondered if that sky was why they called it a blue norther. This blast of winter was riding south on the jet stream, predicted to get here tonight, but as fast as the temperatures were dropping, he'd have to say the forecasters got it wrong.
    In Texas, they did that a lot.
    His phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at it, and wanted to laugh. Hannah had figured his ETA down to the minute.
    He stepped inside and shut the door behind him to block out the whistle of the wind. "Hey, sweetheart, I'm here!"
    Her voice was low and warm, and always sent a shiver down his spine. "How's the house?" she asked.
    Before he was married, he had bought this cattle ranch outside of Hobart, Texas, because Hobart was the scene of his fondest childhood memories, and he wanted a place for his family to gather. He had updated the house, paying special attention to the massive front room. He had replaced the flooring with warm Spanish tile, added long leather sofas and a glass-topped