Christmas Gifts: Small Town Christmas / Her Christmas Cowboy

“Daddy!” Both girls shot from the benches and ran to a harried-looking man who stood inside the doorway, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

Amy’s heart gave a twinge. A five o’clock shadow encompassed his lean jaw and his chestnut hair was tousled as if he’d run his fingers through it many times. His eyebrows stretched above his caramel brown eyes, flashing with emotion. She couldn’t tell if he were ready to blow a gasket or just fizzle.

Her question was answered when he released a nervous laugh and rocked on his heels. “You must be Miss Carroll, the new teacher.” He strode toward her. “I’m the girls’ father.” He wiped his hand on his pant leg before extending it to Amy.

Amy met him halfway while the twins hovered at his side. She dropped her palm into his, aware of his warm grip.

“Nice to meet you.” His frustration couldn’t hide behind his pleasant expression.

“Good to meet you, too, Mr. Russet.”

Behind him Mrs. Fredericks watched the scene with seeming interest. “I’ll leave you now. And I’ll see you on Monday, Miss Carroll.” She gave her a wave and vanished.

When she looked back, Amy saw the girls cringe, and her skin prickled. “Your daughters were telling me about their social studies.”

“Social studies? Really?” A grin played on his lips before his gaze dropped to the twins. “You know, girls, we have some serious talking to do.”

The twins lowered their eyes, but in them, she saw consternation. Maybe remorse. Whatever it was, the look caught her attention.

When she looked up, their father was studying her with curiosity. “I’m sure we’ve met.” Amy drew back. “Met? Where?” “At your grandmother’s. Years ago.” She did a double take. “My grandmother’s?” A crooked smile curved his mouth. “Ellie Carroll. Lake Street. Right?”

“Yes, that’s it.” But Amy’s memory drew a blank. “We live on Lake Street, too.” The twins’ voices melded together.

His grin widened. “I thought you’d remember. It was maybe eleven years ago.”

Her face knotted as she tried to recall. “I don’t think so.” Yet something shimmered in the shadow of her mind. “I was only eighteen then, Mr. Russet.”

“I was twenty-three, earning money as a handyman while I looked for a job.” He grinned. “Maybe you remember my first name, Mike?”

Amy gasped in surprise, as the memory came flooding back.

“You’re the guy who dug out Grams’s old shrubbery and planted new ones.” She pictured him in the summer sun, his muscles flexing while his shirt hung on her grandmother’s deer ornament in the tree-sheltered yard.

“The same, except a few pounds heavier and some wrinkles.”

Amy studied his face, seeing only a few worry lines. His unruly hair hadn’t changed. She remembered how it ruffled in the breeze, his lean handsome face taut with concentration. They were young then, and she’d flirted with him. But when she went inside, her grandmother had notified her he was newly married. Heat rose up Amy’s neck at the thought. She hoped he didn’t remember she’d toyed with him. She managed to look at him. “I’ll tell Grams I saw you.” “Gramma Ellie sits with us.” Amy’s head turned toward Ivy. “She does?” “Quite often, actually.” Mike shrugged a shoulder. “She and the girls get on great.”

Even though she tried to listen to what he was saying, her memory kept flashing back to the summer they’d first met. Her chest pressed against her lungs, the same reaction she had that day. But today Grams’s words rang clear, and she knew better. He was married. Amy eyed the doorway, calculating how she might whip past the beguiling man and escape. She came to her senses and checked her watch. “Speaking of Grams, I’d better be on my way. She’s expecting me home, and I don’t want her to worry.”

“Certainly, Miss Carroll.” He stepped aside, his gaze settling on the girls. “I have a couple things to take care of myself.”

“Nice to meet you, Holly and Ivy. I’ll see you on Monday.” Ivy gave a wave, but Holly only sent her a questioning look.

“And nice to meet you … again.” She could only glance at Mike, fearing he would notice he’d flustered her just as he had that day long ago. She hurried through the doorway, wishing Mrs. Russet had been the one to face the principal about the girls.

Discomfort followed her to her car, and after she opened the door, she turned and slammed it closed. Too busy dealing with her memories, she’d forgotten to pick up the textbooks and lesson plan book in the front office.

Quickly darting into the building, Amy gathered the materials from the secretary. Safe outside, she slipped into her hatchback and headed down Highway 72 toward town. She loved working with children, and although she knew the twins might be a problem, she decided to formulate a plan of action. If she had solutions before the problems occurred, she might be able to teach the girls a little about cooperation and getting along. Being an only child, she’d never experienced a sister’s relationship firsthand, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying to help the girls with theirs.

Mike’s frustration inched into her mind. He seemed at a loss on how to deal with them, which made her assume the twins’ mother did most of the disciplining. If she talked with Mrs. Russet, perhaps they could decide how best to resolve the twins’ issues.

Reaching Main Street, she stopped at the Local IGA and picked up the groceries her grandmother had asked her to bring home. When she turned down Lake Street, she looked closely at each residence, curious to know which might be the Russets’.

Soon she turned into her grandmother’s driveway, washed by its homey feeling. She’d spent so many summers at Grams’s, listening to her stories and learning how to bake cookies. Her grandmother taught her so many things she’d missed living in Illinois with her dad. And spending Christmas with her grandmother made her smile.

As soon as her car came to a halt in the long driveway, Grams’s face appeared at the kitchen window. Amy waved before lifting the bags and heading inside. “Sorry I’m late. I hope you didn’t need the groceries.”

“No, they’re for tomorrow.”

“Good.” She set the sacks on the kitchen table. “The principal wanted me to meet two sisters who’ll be in my class. They’d gotten into trouble, and—”

“Holly and Ivy.” Her rosy cheeks lifted in a grin. “Am I right?”

Amy chuckled. “You are.” She pulled milk and eggs from the package and set them in the refrigerator. “And I talked with their dad.”

“Poor Mike.” Grams shook her head. “That man has faced the principal more than he did when he was in school, I’m sure.” She lifted the bag of flour. “Those little darlings are so needy, but you’d be surprised how good they are with me.”

“Their dad told me.” Amy tried to picture the girls’ expressions without defiance and questioning looks. “I assume their mother works. I wish she’d been the one—”

Grams shook her head. “Their mother died a few years ago.”

“Died? That’s awful.”

“I think the twins were about four years old. Mike’s raising those girls alone.”

Amy’s heart wrenched. She knew what that was like.

When her own mother ran off without taking her along, her father had tried so hard to be both father and mother for her.

Grams reached over and patted her hand. “I knew you’d understand, but you were always a good girl. Never had an ounce of worry for you.” She shrugged. “Each person’s different.”

Her grandmother’s words didn’t console her. Yes, she’d been good, but it didn’t change how she’d felt. Most girls needed a mom. Even having her precious grandmother couldn’t make up for the loss of a mother. And she’d watched her father suffer and grow distant without realizing how it had affected her. Romance and marriage stuck in her mind like a thorn. Who wanted to get involved in the fickle emotions of love?

Amy folded the grocery bags while Mike’s image stayed in her mind. Twin girls. No wife. A job. Household responsibilities. That wasn’t a life for anyone. As the truth struck her, one of the sacks she’d folded slipped from her hands. She bent to retrieve it, facing the fact that her own life was much too similar to Mike’s, but without children. Work. Errands. A few friends. Not much.

Had Mike been able to overcome the pain of his wife’s death? Her stomach tightened as her gaze drifted to her grandmother. She swallowed the questions. If she asked, Grams would either make something out of her curiosity or warn her off, just as she’d done eleven years ago.

What was the sudden attraction to a widower and two troubled girls? She’d passed up plenty of dates more than once. Just the thought of getting involved with someone made as much sense as living in a small town. She couldn’t do it for an extended time. Not for a million dollars.

Chapter Two

Mike pulled up to his house, priding himself on keeping his cool with the twins while they were still at school. But how much longer could he cope with it? Even though his daughters were precious to him, they were stretching him to the limit.

He turned off the ignition and veiled his frustration. “Inside, girls.” He swung open the door and slammed it, his first action that showed his real feelings.

The girls’ voices whiffled past him as they darted toward the house. He searched for the front door key, but instead of hurrying ahead, he gazed down the street to the large house with the wide stone porch. He couldn’t help but grin despite his stress.

His mind flew back to the day he’d met Amy Carroll. Ellie had spoken about her so often. She’d been a lovely young girl, full of energy and fresh as dew. She’d flirted with him, and when he returned home, he’d told Laura and they’d laughed.