A Stallion's Touch. Deborah Fletcher Mello
her medical training there was a dream come true. And to think, they’d chosen her from the thousands of applicants who’d wanted this opportunity just as much as she had. Tears welled hot behind her lids as the magnitude of that fact settled over her.
Sometimes perceived as spoiled and overindulged, Tarah, with her carefree spirit, didn’t often reflect on how seriously she’d taken her medical training. Tarah had wanted to be a doctor since she was six years old and her favorite pediatrician mended her broken arm with a pink cast and a cherry lollipop. Deciding to pursue a surgical vocation had come after a strenuous medical rotation that involved a heart transplant for an aspiring cellist. With the young man’s future renewed on the celebration of his eighteenth birthday, the knowledge that she’d had a part in it made the decision the easiest of her career. From that moment forward, Tarah had buckled down. Her studies were all that mattered.
After a quick shower, she pulled her shoulder-length curls into a tight bun and tied a silk scarf around her head. As she set her alarm clock, she swiped a hand across her face, wiping away the one tear that had finally fallen over her cheek. Minutes later, when her mother peeked in to check on her, Tarah was kneeling at the side of her bed, saying a prayer of gratitude toward the sky.
Stallion Ranch, the former Briscoe family property, was well over eight hundred acres of working cattle farm, an equestrian center and an entertainment complex that specialized in corporate and private client services.
Edward Briscoe, the ranch’s original owner, had been one of the original black cowboys. Not long after the birth of his three daughters, Eden and the twins, Marla and Marah, he and his first wife had chosen to expand their Texas longhorn operation. They had added two twenty-thousand-square-feet event barns and a country bed-and-breakfast.
After Marah Briscoe’s marriage to business tycoon John Stallion, Edward had gifted the property to them. His daughter’s love for that Stallion had ended the corporate conflict that had brought the couple together in the first place. Under the Stallion family umbrella, the Briscoe property had grown steadily and was now a point of consideration for a number of government programs to assist children and families in need. But the ranch was also home to the Stallions, and the expansive property was truly a sight to behold. Even more so with the wealth of Christmas decor that lined the drive and decorated the extraordinary house.
As Nicholas Stallion pulled his brand-new Jaguar F-Type convertible into the circular driveway, joining the line of luxury vehicles parked in front of the home, he was duly impressed. Although it wasn’t his first time visiting his cousin’s home, each time was just as enthralling as that first. Coming together to spend time with his family made for a textbook feel-good moment, and Nicholas found himself excited to see what this year’s holiday celebration would bring.
Nicholas had met his Texas cousins as an adult, the two limbs of their family tree discovering each other after the sudden death of his mother, Norris Jean Stallion. Norris Jean had been estranged from her family, leaving behind her parents and two younger brothers to follow a man who took her for granted. Nicholas and his siblings had grown up in Utah, never knowing the family left behind in Texas. Some claimed it was Stallion magic that had reconnected them, and now the two branches of the Stallion tree and their extended Boudreaux family in-laws were as thick as thieves.
His cousin John, and John’s wife Marah, met him at the home’s front door, wrapping him in a warm embrace.
“Yo, Nicholas! How was the drive?” John asked, the two men bumping shoulders in a one-armed embrace.
Marah kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas! It’s so good to see you again!”
Nicholas returned the greetings. “The drive was great! Santa brought me an early present, and she’s some sort of sweet,” he said as he gestured over his shoulder toward his new car.
“Very nice!” John exclaimed, shaking his head as he eyed the vehicle from the front porch.
A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the foyer. “You would have been here sooner if you’d caught a plane with the rest of us,” Nicholas’s twin brother, Dr. Nathaniel Stallion, exclaimed.
The twins both chuckled as they greeted each other warmly. “Am I the last one here?” Nicholas questioned.
“No, we’re still waiting for Tarah.”
A moment of confusion washed over the man’s face. “Who’s Tarah?”
“That would be my baby sister,” Mason Boudreaux interjected, suddenly joining the conversation. Mason was married to Nicholas’s cousin Phaedra, the only girl in the Dallas branch of the Stallion clan. “I didn’t realize a few of you still hadn’t met her until my mother pointed it out at breakfast this morning.”
“That’s what a medical residency program will do to you,” Nathaniel interjected. “I remember those days and the family events I missed.”
Mason extended his hand toward Nicholas. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. MVP!”
Nicholas nodded, a wide grin across his face. “You caught that, huh?”
“Who didn’t? That was a bold statement to make,” the other man exclaimed, referring to Nicholas’s most recent postgame interview about his prospective championship intentions.
“More like arrogant,” Nathaniel interjected.
Nicholas laughed as he shook his head. “Smoke and mirrors, bro! You have to give the fans a good show. Besides, I might as well claim the title if I aspire to it, right?”
His twin snorted, his eyes darting skyward.
Noise and laughter vibrated through the home’s interior. Marah waved the men aside. “You all need to let Nicholas get a seat before you inundate us with football talk.” She stole a quick glance at her wristwatch. “And it’s almost time for Santa’s helpers to start putting stuff together. We’ve got two Barbie dollhouses, some racetrack thing and at least six tricycles!”
John laughed. “I think we’ll probably have more fun with the football!”
Marah narrowed her gaze at him. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips, gently pressing her mouth to his. “I like football, too, but not all the time, and not when there are a million things that have to be done to pull off this holiday.”
John laughed as he gave her a light squeeze. “I’ve got you, baby! Don’t you worry about anything. I personally guarantee all your elves and Santa’s helpers will get everything on your list done before the chubby guy falls down that chimney!”
“Nicholas, are you hungry? There’s a ton of food,” Marah said, shifting the conversation.
“I could eat.”
“He never stops eating,” Nathaniel added. “We probably should have warned you!”
Marah laughed. “Naomi did,” she said, referring to their older sister.
A hurricane of noise and limbs suddenly burst through the space, a cavalcade of youngsters racing past the adults. They ranged in age from three to almost twelve and sounded like a hurricane in the making.
“Gabrielle! Irene! Stop running!” Marah admonished. “And I mean it! You two are keeping all your cousins stirred up! Santa’s not coming if you two don’t get it together! How many times do I have to tell you both to set the example for the younger kids?”
Both little girls suddenly came to an abrupt halt, the others falling in line behind them. They eyed Nicholas warily. The younger of the two, Gabrielle Stallion shifted her gaze from his face to the bright white running shoes he wore on his feet. Her eyes moved from him to Nathaniel, shifting as she took in their identical features. She pointed an index finger. “You two are twins!”
The adults laughed.
“That’s right,”