Laura Altom - A Daddy for Christmas

“About what?”

“Your daughter. Your husband. Your colt. You’ve had a rough time of it, and—”

“Please don’t.” The wind swept hair in front of her eyes, and she impatiently pushed it away. “The girls and I got along fine before you got here, and we’ll be fine long after you go.”

“Did I say you wouldn’t? All I said was—”

“I really should get back to the house. Thank you for checking in on Honey.”

Gage nodded, but he could’ve saved himself the effort as she was already out the door.

What was it with her always running away? Why wouldn’t she talk to him? Why was she shutting herself off from the very practical fact that if she was going to run any kind of successful ranch, there was no way in Sam Hill she could ever do it on her own?

Catching his reflection in the mirror, he scowled. “What’re you doing, man?”

But unfortunately, the stranger looking back at him had no more clue why he cared about Jess Cummings or her girls or her ranch than he did.

Dear Reader,

Welcome to the sixth and last book of THE STATE OF PARENTHOOD miniseries, Harlequin American Romance’s celebration of parenthood and place. In this, our 25th year of publishing great books, we’re delighted to bring you these heartwarming stories that sing the praises of the home state of six different authors and share the many trials and delights of being a parent.

If there’s one time of the year that makes us think of home and family, it’s Christmas. In Laura Marie Altom’s A Daddy for Christmas, we meet Gage Moore, a Texan bull rider looking for peace—and redemption. What he finds is miles of blue Oklahoma sky and Jess Cummings, a single mom looking for a temporary ranch hand. It may seem as if Jess is the one who needs help, but working on her ranch and connecting with her two girls brings the spirit of Christmas home for Gage. And that holiday magic might just help make them a family.

There are five other books in this series: Texas Lullaby by Tina Leonard (June 08), Smoky Mountain Reunion by Lynnette Kent (July 08), Cowboy Dad by Cathy McDavid (August 08), A Dad for Her Twins by Tanya Michaels (September 08) and Holding the Baby by Margot Early (October 08). We hope you enjoyed every one of these romantic stories, and that they inspired you to celebrate where you live—because any place you raise a child is home.

Merry Christmas from all of us at American Romance!

Kathleen Scheibling

Senior Editor

Harlequin American Romance

Laura Marie Altom

After college (Go Hogs!), bestselling, award-winning author Laura Marie Altom did a brief stint as an interior designer before becoming a stay-at-home mom to boy/ girl twins and a bonus son. Always an avid romance reader, when she found herself replotting the afternoon soaps, she knew it was time to try her hand at writing

When not immersed in her next story, Laura teaches reading enrichment at a local middle school. In her free time, she beats her kids at video games, tackles Mt. Laundry and of course, reads romance!

Laura loves hearing from readers at either P.O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101, or e-mail BaliPalm@aol.com.

Love winning fun stuff? Check out lauramariealtom.com!

For Mary Jane and Cathy Morgan.

Ladies, you are fun and talented and witty and

wonderful!! I love you!! Thanks for sharing

my ups, downs and everything in between!!

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

If Jess Cummings didn’t act fast, the colt would have to be shot.

The heartrending sound of the young quarter horse’s cries, the sight of blood staining his golden coat, made her eyes sting and throat ache. But she refused to give in to tears. For the colt’s sake, for the girls’ sake, but most of all, for Dwayne, to whom this land and its every creature had meant so much, Jess had to stay strong.

For what felt like an eternity, while the colt’s momma neighed nervously behind the broken gate the colt had slipped through, Jess struggled to free the animal from his barbed-wire cage. Muscles straining, ignoring the brutal December wind’s bite, she worked on, heedless of her own pain when the barbs pierced her gloves.

“You’ve got to calm down,” she said, praying the colt her two girls had named Honey would somehow understand.

Not only didn’t he still, but he also struggled all the harder. Kicking and snorting. Twisting the metal around his forelegs and rump and even his velvety nose that her daughters so loved to stroke.

The more the vast Oklahoma plain’s wind howled, the more the colt fought, the more despair rose in Jess’s throat. It was only two days before Christmas, and the holiday would be tough enough to get through. Why, why, was this happening now? How many times had she spoke up at grange meetings about the illegal dumping going on in the far southeast corner of her land? How many times had she begged the sheriff to look into the matter before one of her animals—or, God forbid, children—ended up hurt? For an inquisitive colt, the bushel of rotting apples and other trash lobbed alongside hundreds of feet of rusty barbed wire had made for an irresistible challenge.

“Shh…” she crooned, though the horse fought harder and harder until he eventually lost balance, falling onto his side. “Honey, you’ll be all right. Everything’s going to be all right.”

Liar.

Cold sweat trickled down her back as she worked, and she promised herself that this time her words would ring true. That this crisis—unlike Dwayne’s—could be resolved in a good way. A happy way. A way that didn’t involve tears.

From behind her came a low rumbling, and the crunch of wheels on the lonely dirt road.

She glanced north to see a black pickup approach, kicking dust against an angry gunmetal sky. She knew every vehicle around these parts, and this one didn’t belong. Someone’s holiday company? Didn’t matter why the traveler was there. All that truly mattered was flagging him or her down in time to help.

“I’ll be right back,” she said to Honey before charging into the road’s center, frantically waving her arms. “Help! Please, help!”

The pickup’s male driver fishtailed to a stop on the weed-choked shoulder, instantly grasping the gravity of the situation. “Hand me those,” the tall, lean cowboy-type said as he jumped out from behind the wheel, nodding to her wire cutters before tossing a weather-beaten Stetson into the truck’s bed. “I’ll cut while you try calming him down.”

Working in tandem, the stranger snipped the wire, oblivious to the bloodied gouges on his fingers and palms, as Jess smoothed the colt’s mane and ears, all the while crooning the kind of nonsensical comfort she would’ve to a fevered child.

In his weakened state, the colt had stopped struggling, yet his big brown eyes were still wild.

“Call your vet?” the stranger asked.

“I would’ve, but I don’t have a cell.”

“Here,” he said, standing and passing off the wire cutters. “Use Doc Matthews?”

“Yes, but—” Before she could finish her question as to how he even knew the local horse and cattle expert, the stranger was halfway to his truck. Focusing on the task at hand, she figured on grilling the man about his identity later. After Honey was out of the proverbial woods.