Lois Richer - Her Christmas Family Wish

A Daddy for Christmas

Single mother Ellie Grant’s little girl only wants one thing for Christmas: a daddy. But after adopting Gracie and losing her fiancé, Ellie made a vow to focus on motherhood—not romance. But the five-year-old has her sights set on veterinarian Wyatt Wright, a handsome widowed father whose toddler son means an instant brother. Ellie knows that Wyatt’s heart is as closed to love as hers is. Yet when Wyatt also starts working at Wranglers Ranch, Ellie can’t deny her growing feelings. Now her daughter’s fondest wish might make two families into one just in time for Christmas.

“What if I spend some time with Gracie, just to clear up this daddy notion of hers?” Wyatt asked.

“In exchange for what?” Ellie’s eyes searched his face.

“For you watching my son for a few hours. I know I’m getting the better deal, but Gracie obviously needs someone to talk to. And I need help with Cade.”

“But the evenings, before bedtime, those are special daddy moments you shouldn’t miss with Cade,” she protested.

“Something has to give, Ellie.” He hated admitting that. “I have to work and keep our home up.”

“I have just one condition,” Ellie said.

“Name it.”

“You have to agree that this is simply an arrangement between friends and nothing more. I’m not looking for a father for Gracie or a relationship for myself. I need you to be clear on that, Wyatt. Strictly friends.”

“Agreed,” he said with a nod, relief swelling. “I don’t want any romantic entanglements, either.” He grinned at her and thrust out his hand. “Deal, friend?”

Ellie took her time but finally she shook hands with him. “Deal.”

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Wranglers Ranch where life’s so busy an on-staff nurse and veterinarian are necessary. But these two single parents aren’t interested in finding someone to love. It’s going to take some strong-minded love to bring Ellie and Wyatt together. Fortunately there’s a little girl determined to get a daddy for Christmas whether or not it’s on her mom’s list.

I hope you’ve enjoyed Wyatt and Ellie’s struggle to understand God’s love is always there, waiting for us to come home to it. Join me next time at Wranglers Ranch where you’re always welcome.

I love to hear from you: write me via Facebook, www.loisricher.com, loisricher@gmail.comor snail mail at Box 639, Nipawin, SK S0E 1E0, Canada.

I wish you a Merry Christmas as together we celebrate the greatest gift ever given. May His love penetrate your heart and soul as you move toward a future He has prepared just for you.

Blessings,

LOIS RICHER loves traveling, swimming and quilting, but mostly she loves writing stories that show God’s boundless love for His precious children. As she says, “His love never changes or gives up. It’s always waiting for me. My stories feature imperfect characters learning that love doesn’t mean attaining perfection. Love is about keeping on keeping on.” You can contact Lois via email, loisricher@gmail.com, or on Facebook (loisricherauthor).

Her Christmas Family Wish

Lois Richer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Whatever your hands find to do,

do it with your might.

—Ecclesiastes 9:10

This book is dedicated to my nephew Drew,

who is on the way to discovering his future.

God bless you, Drew.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“That little boy would be a good brother, wouldn’t he, Mommy?”

Wyatt Wright stifled his groan. Not another one. He’d been in this grocery story almost twenty minutes, and he’d put only three things from his list into his basket, thanks to his son’s many female admirers. At least, that’s how he preferred to think of the women who used Cade to open a conversation with him.

Only this time Cade’s fan sounded like a little kid.

“He’s a cutie all ri—” A woman’s light, cheery voice paused. “Uh-oh.”

Intrigued by the way warning overtook her amusement, Wyatt did something he’d vowed not to. He looked directly at the stranger and spoke to her.

“Is something wrong?”

She peered at Cade. “Your son is about to be sick.”

Clear gray eyes set in a heart-shaped face met his, empty of the coy look he often saw in the ladies who were—how did he say it without sounding conceited?—looking to make his acquaintance. And yet Wyatt didn’t get the impression that he was the attraction here, given the coolly polite smile that lifted this woman’s pink lips. Still, he couldn’t help but admire her flaxen hair as it tumbled to her shoulders in an attractive disarray of curls. She wore a pale blue sundress, probably in deference to the heat of a late-October evening in Tucson, that flirted around her tanned legs.

Cade was sick? That was an opening gambit he hadn’t heard before. Of course she was wrong. Wyatt had been eighteen-month-old Cade’s sole parent for over a year. He knew all about—

“Look out!” the pretty stranger warned.

Wyatt turned in time to see his usually grinning boy grimace before spewing a sour mouthful all over his daddy’s favorite T-shirt.

“Sorry. I tried to warn you.” The slender stranger was quite tall, only a few inches shorter than Wyatt’s own six-foot height. She dug into her large shoulder bag, pulled out a packet of wipes and extracted several. “Poor baby. But your tummy feels better now, doesn’t it?”

Wyatt blinked twice before realizing her tender tone was for Cade. Gently she wiped the disgusting mess from his son’s face and shirtfront, then tucked the used wipes into a plastic bag which she grabbed from a roll at the nearby produce stand. After removing more clean wipes, she reached toward Wyatt. He stepped back just in time to stop her from cleaning him up, too.

“Oh. Sorry.” She blushed very prettily, then stuffed the wipes into his hand. “I guess you can do that yourself. Moms get used to cleaning up spills. But I suppose dads do, too, right?”

Entranced by the melodic sound of her light laugh, Wyatt couldn’t find his voice. After a minute her smile faded. She shrugged, then bent to look at Cade.

“Hope you feel better, sweet boy.” Cade grinned at her, his feet churning. She glanced at Wyatt. “You’ve got a real charmer here.” Then she turned and reached for her daughter’s hand. “Come on, Gracie.”