Brenda Minton - The Cowboy's Holiday Blessing

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Reformed rebel Jackson Cooper thinks he can handle anything—until a sullen teenage girl appears at his ranch, claiming the impossible. Even though he's not Jade's father, he can't turn her away, knowing she's in need. But he's going to need the helping hand of compassionate schoolteacher Madeline Patton. An unlikely duo with their own secret fears, Jackson and Maddie certainly don't expect the Christmas surprise of instant parenthood.Yet as they work toward giving a foster child a home, they might just discover the most wonderful gift of all: family.

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’Tis the season to become a family...

Reformed rebel Jackson Cooper thinks he can handle anything—until a sullen teenage girl appears at his ranch, claiming the impossible. Even though he’s not Jade’s father, he can’t turn her away, knowing she’s in need. But he’s going to need the helping hand of compassionate schoolteacher Madeline Patton.

An unlikely duo with their own secret fears, Jackson and Maddie certainly don’t expect the Christmas surprise of instant parenthood. Yet as they work toward giving a foster child a home, they might just discover the most wonderful gift of all: family.

“If you have this under control, I should go.”

Madeline glanced at her watch. “I have to be at work in an hour.”

Jackson nodded, distracted. Even distracted he could make a woman take a second look. His suntanned face was angular but strong. Fine lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes. His mouth, which often turned in an easy, gotcha smile, was now held in a serious line.

“Could you stay, just until I figure this out?” Jackson’s words stopped her as she started to turn away. “Please.”

Softer, a little more pleading.

Reluctant, Madeline looked at the cowboy leaning against the door as if he needed it to hold him up.

He cleared his throat. She looked up, met his humor-filled gaze and managed a smile.

“I think it would be better if you called your family, Jackson.”

There, she’d been strong. She could walk away. He had people to help him.

But she couldn’t walk away. Not from the teen girl dropped on his doorstep. Certainly not from the cowboy standing in front of her.

BRENDA MINTON

started creating stories to entertain herself during hour-long rides on the school bus. In high school she wrote romance novels to entertain her friends. The dream grew and so did her aspirations to become an author. She started with notebooks, handwritten manuscripts and characters that refused to go away until their stories were told. Eventually she put away the pen and paper and got down to business with the computer. The journey took a few years, with some encouragement and rejection along the way—as well as a lot of stubbornness on her part. In 2006 her dream to write for Love Inspired came true. Brenda lives in the rural Ozarks with her husband, three kids and an abundance of cats and dogs. She enjoys a chaotic life that she wouldn’t trade for anything—except, on occasion, a beach house in Texas. You can stop by and visit at her website, www.brendaminton.net.

Brenda Minton

The Cowboy’s Holiday Blessing

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Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

—Matthew 11:28

Merry Christmas to all of you, and a special thank-you to Stephanie Newton, Nancy Ragain, Barbara Warren and Shirlee McCoy, great friends who helped me so much during the writing of this book.

To Bonnie, Ed and Willie, for helping to carry the load at church.

To Mary, for a clean house.

To my family, for always putting up with me during the deadline crunch.

To my editor, Melissa Endlich, for encouragement at just the right moment.

Contents

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

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

The rapid-fire knock on the door shook the glass in the living room window. Jackson Cooper covered his face with the pillow he jerked out from under his head, and then tossed the thing because it smelled like the stinking dog that was now curled at his feet, taking up too much room on the couch.

The person at the front door found the doorbell. The chimes sounded through the house and the dog growled low, resting his head on Jackson’s leg. The way his luck went, it was probably one of his siblings coming to check on him. This could go two ways. Either they’d give up, knowing he was alive and ignoring them, or they’d break the door down because they assumed the worst.

He opted for remaining quiet and taking his chances. Moving seemed pretty overrated at the moment. Three nights of sleeping on the couch after a horse decided to throw him into the wall of the arena, and this morning it felt like a truck had run over him.

The way he figured it, after another attempt or two they’d give up. Unless the “they” in question weren’t his siblings, but instead someone with literature and an invitation to church. Or it could be that girl he dated last month, the one that wouldn’t stop calling. He covered his face with his arm and groaned. The dog at his feet sat up.

The door rattled again and the dog barked. The next time they knocked harder. Jackson shot the dog a look and Bud cowered a little.

“Thanks, you mangy mutt.”

He sat up, careful to breathe deep. Bruised kidneys, cracked ribs and a pulled muscle or two. Man, he was getting too old for this. He’d given up bull riding a few years back for the easier task of raising bulls and training horses. Every now and then a horse got the best of him, though.

He got to his feet and headed for the door, moving slowly and taking it easy. He buttoned his shirt as he walked. The dog ran ahead of him and sat down in front of the door.

When he got to the door he looked in the mirror on the wall and brushed his hands through his shaggy hair. He rubbed a palm across whiskers that should have seen a razor days ago.

“I’m coming already.” He jerked the door open and the two people on his front porch stared like they’d just seen a man from Mars.

He glanced down. Yeah, his jeans were the same ones he’d worn yesterday and his shirt was pretty threadbare, but he was fully clothed and decent. He ran a hand through his hair again and tried to smooth it down a little.

“What?” If they were selling cookies or raffle tickets, he wasn’t going to be happy. Take that back; he already wasn’t happy.

The woman frowned and he remembered her. She’d moved into the old homestead a year or so back. She wore her typical long sweater, longer skirt and her hair in a ponytail. The glasses that framed big, brown eyes were sliding down her nose. He shook his head and focused on the girl next to her. A kid with blond hair and hazel-green eyes. Man, those eyes looked familiar.

“Mr. Cooper, we… I…” The schoolteacher stumbled over her words. He was on painkillers but he remembered her name: Madeline. Yesterday he’d barely remembered his own name, so that was definitely an improvement.

He grinned because the more he smiled, the more flustered she always got. At that moment she was pulling her heavy sweater a little tighter. A week or so back he’d helped her put groceries in her car and she’d nearly tripped trying to stay away from him.

“Ms. Patton.”

“Mr. Cooper,” she said, pushing her glasses back in place. She was cute, in a schoolmarm kind of way. “Mr. Cooper, this young lady was dropped off at my house.”

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