DONNA ALWARD - The Cowboy's Christmas Family

“When would you want me to start?”

He laughed. “Tomorrow? Three days and I’m already sick of Tanner’s cooking and the laundry’s piling up.”

She checked her watch, realizing that time had flown and she truly did have to pick up the boys soon. “Would mornings be okay? I usually work afternoons at the library, and on my days off I’d still be able to get the boys home for a good afternoon nap. You have no idea how much that helps their temperament.”

“Mornings are fine. I’ll leave the front door open, but I’ll try to be in around...nine? I’ll show you around, get you set up. Then you’re done by one.”

“Sounds good.” She pushed out her chair and reached for her coat. “I really should get going, though. The day care gets miffed if parents are late. But thank you for the tea. You were right. It was nice to just get out and sit for an hour or so.”

“It was my pleasure. And thanks for helping me out.” He stood and took his jacket off the back of his chair. In moments they were bundled up against the cold and headed for the door.

To her surprise, he walked her back to her car, too. The snow had started, just light flakes drifting lazily, and Maddy hoped they didn’t get much. She had to drive out to Cole’s in the morning, and without winter tires. Maybe the first thing she should do with Cole’s money was have them installed.

He shut her door for her and waited until she’d started the car before stepping back. Maybe she should feel crowded or patronized by his behavior this afternoon. But she didn’t.

She felt cared for and protected. Which was silly. It was a few hours of work, and a request for volunteering, and a cup of tea. And she was fully capable of looking after herself.

But it was the fact that he’d looked at her—really at her—that had made the difference. And she didn’t think he’d simply seen Maddy Wallace, charity case.

If nothing else, she was extremely grateful for that.

Chapter Three

Cole knew he shouldn’t be nervous.

So why was his gut a tangle of knots? He’d come to the house at eight thirty, after the first of the morning chores were done, and he’d washed up, combed his hair—twice—and considered changing his shirt.

It was just Maddy. He’d known her his whole life. And this was just his way of helping her out over the holidays. It was funny, he realized, that the whole committee for Snowflake Days talked about helping the less fortunate at Christmas but Maddy’s name hadn’t come up once. It didn’t take a genius to do the math. Unless Gavin had left her a hefty life-insurance policy—which Cole doubted he had—part-time hours at a small municipal library wouldn’t house and feed a family of three. Plus day care. Maddy had to be struggling, and far more than she let on.

She wouldn’t accept help, so offering her work was really the only solution. He didn’t even really need it. He knew how to run a washing machine and a vacuum perfectly well. And he wasn’t the greatest cook, but he could bake a potato, make a chicken breast, heat some vegetables in the microwave. Hell, last night he’d gone into the market and picked up one of those rotisserie chicken meals for fifteen dollars and it had done him and Tanner for supper and there were still leftovers in the fridge.

He wasn’t as inept as he’d led her to believe, but she didn’t need to know that.

Movement out the front window caught his attention and he looked closer, saw her car crawling carefully up the drive. Fool woman still had her summer tires on, and it was December. With the three inches of snow that had fallen last night, the road probably had tricky spots.

Cole ran his hand over his hair once more before reaching for the doorknob. He swung it open just as she climbed the steps, carrying a diaper bag and playpen in her arms.

“Thanks!” she huffed out, putting them down just inside the kitchen. “Just a sec. I’ll get the boys.”

Her head disappeared inside the car again, and when she withdrew she had a boy on each arm. At least it looked like the boys—the snowsuits in blue and red were so puffy that Cole could hardly see the babies inside.

It occurred to him that she must have really great biceps, and he grinned at the thought.

“Here, let me take one of them,” he offered as she climbed the steps. She leaned to one side, handing him one of the boys—he couldn’t tell which one. Once inside she sat her cargo on the floor and began the process of pulling off boots and unzipping snowsuits. Cole hadn’t done such a thing ever in his life, but he followed her lead, and before too long two identical boys stood before them dressed in little jogging suits with crooked socks and staticky hair, a pile of winter gear at their feet.

“How do you tell them apart?” Cole asked. “I mean, as their mom, you must just know or something. But...well, how do I tell the difference?”

She laughed. “Luke is a little bigger than Liam, and his eyes are just a little different. He’s more independent, too. Liam’s the one who likes to cuddle and be held all the time.” She looked over at him and her eyes twinkled. “Which means one is in my arms, making it hard for me to get anything done, and the other one is off getting into trouble—”

“Making it hard for you to get anything done.” Cole chuckled. “I get it.” He looked directly at the boys and nodded. “Hi, Luke. Hi, Liam.”

They both stared at him with owl eyes, but one raised a hand and opened and shut his fingers in a sort of wave. The other popped his thumb in his mouth.

“So this one is Luke,” he said, pointing at the waver, “and the other is Liam.”

“Bingo. Let me set up the playpen and get them into a confined space, and then you can show me where things are.”

It seemed to take no time at all and she had the playpen set up. A few solid jerks and snaps and it popped into a square. Without any fuss she deposited the boys inside, added a handful of soft toys from the bag she’d brought, gathered up their outerwear and stowed it neatly on a bench by the door, and was ready to go.

“Are you sure they’ll be okay there?” Cole was skeptical. It seemed like such a small space, after all.

But Maddy nodded. “I’m sure. Until they’re not, and I’ll deal with that when we get there.” She smiled at him. “Okay. Give me the nickel tour.”

He led her through the house, showing her the upstairs first, where the bedrooms and bathrooms were. “The washer and dryer are in the mudroom off the garage,” he said. “Tanner and I put our dirty laundry there this morning, but normally we keep it in a clothes hamper in our rooms.”

On the way downstairs he added, “Mom keeps her cleaning supplies in the laundry room, too, in a carry basket. You should be able to find everything you need there.”

“Sounds fine,” she said, following behind him.

They went to the mudroom next and he opened a closet to reveal a vacuum cleaner and broom and dustpan. “For the floors. The big freezer is out here, too, if you start supper or anything and are looking for stuff.”

They ventured back into the kitchen. To Cole’s surprise, the boys were stacking up soft blocks on the floor of the playpen and then knocking them over, giggling. It took no time at all to give her the rundown of the cupboards. “I’d better go and get out of your way, then,” he added, feeling suddenly awkward. He couldn’t help but notice she’d worn a soft hoodie in dark green, a color that set off her fair skin and blue eyes. And Maddy Wallace looked damned fine in a pair of dark-wash jeans, too. He had the sudden thought that she’d be very nice to cuddle up to...

“Hey, are you okay?” Her voice interrupted him. “You just kind of drifted off there for a sec.”