A Texas Cowboy's Christmas. Cathy Thacker Gillen

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СКАЧАТЬ wheeled around and headed back to the driveway next to the log-cabin-style Bullhaven ranch house, where she had parked her sporty red SUV. “Even if that were a plausible solution, which it’s not, Braden and I aren’t going to be here past the first week of January.”

      Squinting curiously, he matched his strides to hers. “How come?”

      Trying not to notice how he towered over her, or how much she liked it, Molly fished her keys out of her jacket pocket. “Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re moving to Dallas.”

      Chance paused next to her vehicle. “To be closer to Braden’s daddy?”

      Her heart panged in her chest. If only her little boy had a father who wanted his child in his life. But he didn’t, so...

      There was no way she was talking to Chance Lockhart about the most humiliating mistake she’d ever made. Or the fact that her ill-conceived liaison had unexpectedly led to the best thing in her life, a family of her very own. Molly hit the button on the keypad and heard the click of the driver-side lock releasing. “No.”

      “No, that’s not why you’re moving?”

      He came close enough she could smell the soap and sun and man fragrance of his skin.

      Awareness shimmered inside her.

      He watched her open the door. “Or no, that’s not what you want—to be closer to your ex?”

      Heavens, the man was annoying!

      Figuring this was the time to go on record with her goals—and hence vanquish his mistaken notions about her once and for all—Molly lifted her gaze to his. “What I want is for my son to grow up with all the advantages I never had.” Braden, unlike her, would want for nothing.

      Except maybe a daddy in his life.

      Not that she could fix that.

      Chance’s lip curled in contempt. “Ah, yes, back to social climbing.”

      He wasn’t the only one who misinterpreted the reason behind her quest to get an in with every mover and shaker in the area. And beyond...

      But for some reason, Chance Lockhart’s contempt rankled.

      Which was another reason to set him—and everyone else in Laramie County who misread her—straight. “Look, I don’t expect you to understand. You having grown up with a silver spur in your mouth and all.”

      He grinned.

      “But not all of us have had those advantages.”

      His hazel eyes sparkled, the way they always did when he got under her skin. “Like?”

      “Private school, for one.”

      Chance remained implacable. “They have private schools in Laramie County.”

      “Not like the ones in Dallas.”

      He squinted in disapproval. “Which is where you want him to go.”

      Stubbornly, Molly held her ground. “If Braden attends the right preschool, he can get into the right elementary, then middle, then prep. From there, go on to an elite college.”

      Chance poked the brim of his hat up with one finger. “I’m guessing you aren’t talking about anything in the University of Texas system.”

      Molly studied the frayed collar on Chance’s flannel shirt, the snug worn jeans and run-of-the-mill leather belt. It was clear he didn’t care about appearances. Coming from his background, he did not have to. “If Braden goes to an Ivy League school, the world is his oyster.”

      Chance rested his brawny forearm on the roof of her SUV. “I can see you’ve got it all mapped out.”

      Molly tried not to notice how well he filled out his ranching clothes. “Yes, unlike you, Braden is going to take advantage of all the opportunities I plan to see come his way.”

      “How does Braden feel about all this?” Chance asked, not bothering to hide his frustration with her.

      Had Molly not known better, she would have thought that the irascible cowboy did not want her to leave Laramie County. But that was ridiculous. The two of them couldn’t get gas at the same filling station at the same time without getting into a heated argument. More likely, Chance would be delighted to see her depart. “My son is three.”

      “Meaning you haven’t told him.”

      “He has no concept of time.”

      “So, in other words, no.”

      “I will, once Christmas is over,” Molly maintained. She moved as if to get in her vehicle, but Chance remained where he was, his big, imposing body blocking the way.

      “Has it occurred to you that you’re getting ahead of yourself with all your plans to better educate and monetarily and socially provide for your son?”

      Chance wasn’t the first to tell her so.

      She hadn’t listened to anyone else.

      And she wasn’t about to listen to him, either.

      Ducking beneath his outstretched arm, she slid behind the steering wheel. Bending her head, she put the key in the ignition. “What I think is that one day, my son will be very grateful to me for doing all that I can to ensure his dreams come true,” she retorted defensively.

      Chance leaned down so they were face-to-face. “Except, of course, ones that have to do with livestock.”

      What is it about this man? Molly fumed inwardly. He not only provoked her constantly—he had the potential to derail her at every turn, just by existing!

      Pretending his attempts to delay her so they could continue their argument were not bothering her in the least, Molly flashed a confident smile. “You’re right,” she admitted with a sugary-sweet attitude even he would have to find laudable. “I have gotten way, way off track.”

      He chuckled. “Back to train analogies?”

      She gave him a quelling look.

      He lifted an exaggeratedly apologetic hand. “I know. Even some of us big, dumb cowpokes who passed on Ivy League educations know a few big words.”

      She’d heard Chance had been just as much of a problem to his wealthy parents growing up as he was to her now. “How about ‘aggravate’?” She looked him square in the eye. “Do you know what that means?”

      He grinned. “I think that’s what I do to you, on a daily, hourly, basis?”

      So true. Molly drew a calming breath. She started the ignition, then motioned for him to step away. When he did, she put her window down. “I’m going to be at the Circle H this afternoon, meeting with your mother about the proposed kitchen renovation.”

      “Well, what do you know,” he rumbled with a maddeningly affable shrug. “I will be, too.”

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