Judy Duarte - A Cowboy Family Christmas

“Where did you two fellas meet?” Sully asked.

Drew glanced first at the retired cowboy, then at his buddy. “Nate and I competed in the junior rodeo as kids, and we went to the same high school. But when I left for college, I quit the circuit.”

“I never could figure out why,” Nate said. “Drew was always the guy to beat. He might not look it now, in those fancy duds and shiny new boots, but he’s a damn good cowboy.”

Drew shrugged off his friend’s compliment, as well as the good-humored ribbing about his success in the business world. “Yep, don’t mess with my hair.”

They all laughed, but Drew suspected all the rodeo talk struck a tender spot in Nate, who’d suffered a career-ending injury and hadn’t had an option when it came to hanging up his spurs.

“Do you guys miss the rodeo?” Sully asked. “I sure did when I had to give it up. But we all have to do that at some point. Our bones don’t stay young forever.”

Nate shrugged. “Sure, I miss it. I loved the thrill of competition. But now I’ve got a beautiful wife and baby, and they’re more important to me than anything. I actually enjoy being at home these days.” He winked at Drew. “Maybe you should consider finding a nice woman and settling down.”

“You sound like Kara Lee, but I don’t see that lifestyle in my future.” He hadn’t seen it in his past, either. He and his sister had grown up on their mother’s run-down spread outside of Brighton Valley, and the only real memories they’d had consisted of hard work and sparse meals.

“Well, fellas,” Sully said, “if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go check the football spreads. A couple of the guys have a Last Man Standing pool, and I’m still in contention.”

“Not me,” Nate said. “I had to drop out during the second week.”

As Sully left the room, chuckling at his good fortune, Nate turned to Drew and pushed away from the table. “I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll let you get started on that interview process. It’ll be lunchtime before we know it.”

Speaking of lunch, Drew wondered when the cook would be back to start the food prep. He’d like to see her again. Maybe he’d ask again where they might have crossed paths.

It really didn’t matter, he supposed. Yet for some weird reason, it did.

* * *

Lainie had barely gotten to her room when she realized she’d left those darn Dear Debbie letters on the table. Sure, she’d turned them face-side down, but what if...?

Darn it. The last thing in the world she wanted was for someone on the ranch to see them. So, in spite of her plan to avoid Drew Madison while he was visiting, she hurried back to the kitchen.

She’d no more than entered the room when Drew pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table, right in front of those blasted letters. He placed his hand on them, pushing them aside, and her breath caught.

She’d better move quickly. All she needed was for him—or anyone—to learn that she was the new lovelorn columnist, especially since Mr. Carlton wanted Dear Debbie’s identity to remain secret. Besides, Lainie wasn’t looking forward to adding any failed journalism jobs to her resume.

So she scooped them up, clutching them to her chest. “Let me get rid of this mess for you.”

She was about to dash out of the kitchen again when Nate said, “Lainie, you’ll need to set out an extra plate for meals for the next few weeks.”

“Sure, I can do that. But who...?” She paused, afraid to pose the question when she was already connecting the dots.

“Drew will be staying with us for a little while,” Nate said. “He wants to interview the men who live here. Get to know them. Learn their daily routines. I think there’s at least one empty cabin that’s decent. I’m not sure what’s available, but I know Joy gave you a tour of the ranch before she and Sam left on their honeymoon.”

If you could call it a tour. Joy had taken Lainie on a quick walk and pointed out a few buildings, none of which she thought would be her concern for the short time she’d be here. But if Drew was going to stay on the Rocking C, she’d take him out to the cabin that was the farthest from the kitchen.

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll make sure it’s aired out and ready for him.”

“I hate to inconvenience you,” Drew said, his gaze unwavering and kicking her pulse up another notch.

“It’s not a problem.” She feigned a lighthearted grin and tamped down whatever nervous energy he provoked, either through guilt or fear...or downright sexual attraction. “I’ll take care of that cabin right away.”

When Nate nodded, Lainie took her chance to escape.

“If you men will excuse me,” she said, “I have chores to do.” Then she headed toward the living area, clutching the letters to her chest.

As she reached the doorway, she overheard Nate say, “I’ve gotta get back to work. Next time you talk to Kara Lee, give her my best.”

Kara?

Lainie nearly stumbled at the mention of a name that sounded similar to that of Craig’s wife. Then she shook it off.

Boy, she was jumpy today. Nate had said Carolee. Or possibly Carrie Leigh. Either way, they surely weren’t the same woman.

Thank goodness for that. If Kara Baxter was Drew Madison’s friend, and if he realized who Lainie was and believed what people said about her, then having him on the ranch would be a lot more than an inconvenience.

It would be a humiliating disaster.

* * *

Lainie had no more than returned from Caroline’s Diner, where she’d accessed the free Wi-Fi and emailed her first column to the editor, when she spotted Drew and Nate leaving the barn and heading for the house.

Her pride and enthusiasm waned, and her steps, once light and quick, slowed to a near stop. Her first impulse was to slip into the kitchen before they spotted her, but she couldn’t very well do that, even if she did have the dinner meal to prepare.

The men waved to her, and she made her way toward them as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do and greeted them with a forced smile.

“There’s the lady we’ve been looking for,” Nate said. “Have you had a chance to get one of the cabins ready for Drew?”

Oops. Her first priority had been to make her deadline—well before the midnight cutoff. She lifted her hand to her throat and fingered the ribbed neckline on her T-shirt, as well as the bib of her overalls, both of which covered the long, thick scar that ran the length of her sternum. “I haven’t made up the bed yet, but the cabin on the knoll behind the barn will work best. It’s empty, and I’m pretty sure it’s clean.”

“Do you have time to check on it now?” Nate asked. “I’m sure Drew would like to get settled in before dinner, if possible.”

Lainie was already behind schedule, but she couldn’t shirk her responsibilities, especially when this job paid her a lot more than the newspaper did. “Of course. Just give me a minute to get fresh linens and a set of towels from the house.”

“Thanks,” Nate said. “I’d do it myself, but I’m going to be tied up for a while.”

Lainie shot a quick glance at Drew, who was perusing her every bit as intently as he’d done before. Why did he keep doing that?

Her hand began to reach for her chest again, but she let it drop, her fingers trailing along the denim and brushing away imaginary dust. The scar wasn’t visible, and she had to stop reverting back to the old habit she’d once kicked.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” Nate told Drew. “I need to have a chat with a couple of hands who are at odds with each other. It seems they’re both dating the same cocktail waitress at the Stagecoach Inn. I couldn’t care less what they do with their time off, but it’s begun to affect their work.”