A Texas Cowboy's Christmas

Able to feel the heat of his masculine gaze drifting over her, she tossed the words over her shoulder. “I’ve got to measure the upstairs windows before I go.”

“Want help?”

“No!”

He chuckled, as she had known he would.

Molly fought back a flush. This was exactly why she had been avoiding him. Luckily she had work to keep her busy. Chance might even be gone before she left.

She had just finished measuring the first window when she heard a door open, then close. Lucille Lockhart’s lyrical voice echoed through the first floor. “Chance? Why aren’t you picking up? I just got another call from Babs Holcombe. She said she’s been trying to reach you for days!”

Who the heck is Babs? Not that she should be listening...

“Been a little busy, Mom,” Chance growled.

Lucille’s high heels tapped across the wood floors. “You owe her the courtesy of a return call. Or at the very least an email!”

“After the way things ended with Delia?” Chance scoffed.

Delia? Molly perked up, edging a little closer despite herself.

“I admit that wasn’t one of their finer moments,” Lucille conceded reluctantly, “but they’ve both done a lot to support the Lockhart Foundation in the three years since.”

“Okay,” Chance countered gruffly.

“Okay you’ll call her,” Lucille pressed, sounding beside herself with irritation, “or okay you won’t?”

Silence reigned once again.

Molly could imagine the bullheaded look on Chance’s face. The disapproving moue of his mother. There was a brief murmur of disgruntled talk she couldn’t decipher, then the sound of Lucille leaving. The front door shut. Chance’s heavy footsteps crossed to the center of the house. “You can come down now!” he called cheerfully up the stairs.

Aghast that he knew she had been eavesdropping, heat flooded her cheeks. Measurements taken, she walked back down, pocketing her pen. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

He gave her a look that said, “I’ll bet.”

Falling into step beside her, he accompanied her out onto the front porch. The air had the distinct damp chill of late November. Dark clouds gathered along the horizon, where the sun was setting in streaks of purple and gray.

“How is Braden doing? Were you able to steer him toward the Leo and Lizzie World Adventure train set?”

Surprised that Chance recalled the name of the toy, Molly grimaced. “Ah, no. Not yet.”

Concern etched his ruggedly handsome face. “Meaning you haven’t really tried yet?”

Molly only wished that were the case. Taking her first real break of the day, she perched on the railing edging the front porch. “Meaning, like with most men, subtlety doesn’t work on Braden. Nor does direct conversation.”

Chance took a seat opposite her, mesmerizing her with the blatant interest in his eyes. “So he still wants a live baby bull and a momma.”

“As well as a daddy bull.”

“Wow.”

She sighed, relieved to be able to talk about what had been bothering her all day. “Wow is right.”

His expression grew thoughtful. “What are you going to do?”

With effort, she forced herself to meet his probing gaze. “Honestly? I don’t have a clue.”

“I had a few ideas.”

Molly pushed to her feet. Feeling her pulse skitter, she turned her head to the side. “I think you’ve done enough,” she quipped, using sarcasm to hide her worry.

He accompanied her down the steps to her SUV. “Seriously. I think I might be able to dissuade him, given another opportunity. And since you have Thanksgiving Day off and so do I, and my mother is hosting her annual dinner at the bunkhouse, I was thinking you and Braden might want to come as my plus two.”

Aware the mood between them was quickly becoming highly charged and way too intimate, Molly unlocked her vehicle. “You’re asking me for a date?”

To her consternation, he didn’t exactly deny it.

“There will be a lot of people there. Three of my siblings and their significant others and or friends. And a few other family friends.”

Molly tossed her bag into the front passenger seat. “First of all, your mother and I get along so well because I know my place.”

His brow lifted.

“Furthermore, Braden and I have our own holiday tradition.”

He rested a muscular forearm on the open driver-side door. “You cook?”

Molly lifted her chin. “I take him to the buffet at the cafeteria in San Angelo.”

Sympathy lit his gaze. “Sounds...lonely.”

Lonely, Molly thought, was being a fifth wheel at the big family gatherings of friends. Knowing, you’d never enjoy the same.

She shrugged. “Crowded is more like it. But it’s not too bad if we get there at eleven, when it opens, and then Braden and I have the rest of the day to do whatever we want.” Which usually involved a family activity of their own.

Chance stepped back. “Well, if you change your mind, the invitation stands.”

Molly slid behind the wheel. “Thanks, but I won’t.” She looked up at him.

Whether Chance admitted it or not, she was out of his league socially, too. “And don’t worry about Braden. I’ll figure out a way to handle his misconceptions about what is possible for Christmas. And what is not.”

* * *

EXCEPT SHE WASN’T handling it, Molly thought the following day when they entered the popular San Angelo cafeteria. At least not as well as she or her son would like.

“I’m hungry, Mommy,” Braden complained as the line of customers inched forward.

Although she had been hoping to make this Thanksgiving really special for him, he’d been grumpy since waking that morning. “I know.” Molly inched up slightly, clear of the entrance. “It will be our turn soon. See?” She pointed to the lighted display cases up ahead.