Christmas On The Ranch: The Rancher's Christmas Baby / Christmas Eve Cowboy. Arlene James

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       Chapter Two

      How dare she? Dixon fumed, letting the wind suck the door closed behind him. Pretty little Fawn Whoever obviously didn’t know his mother very well or she wouldn’t have lectured him like that.

      Giving birth to you ought to be enough.

      He mimicked the words in his head as he skirted between the front end of the pickup and the storage room at the end of the carport.

      What did this Fawn person know about it? She’d never seen his mother sleep around the clock after one of her benders or heard the whispers at the grocery store. Fawn had never watched some strange man literally drop her loopy mother in the front yard and drive away while she reeled toward the house. He’d always wondered what was so wrong with him that she couldn’t stay home and sober—until he’d realized that his grandmother was right. What was so wrong was Jackie.

      So why was she here now? After all those years when all he’d wanted was for her to come home and settle down, now all he wanted was for her to go away before she ruined everything good in his life. He finally had a healthy relationship with his dad, worked for the family business, a plan for the future, a family, and that hadn’t been easy, given the animosity toward his father from his maternal grandparents, who had raised Dixon.

      His grandparents and his dad had tiptoed around each other for years after Gregory Lyons had returned to town following an eight-year stint in the army. At twelve, Dixon had barely even remembered his father, despite many letters and photographs and a few visits. Greg had a new family by then, a wife, Lucinda, and a baby son. Jackie had gone into a tailspin upon Greg’s return, partying for days at a time. Dixon’s grandparents had feared that Greg would sue for custody, so they’d kept him at arm’s length. Greg and Lucinda had soon enlarged their family with a second son, but Dixon’s time with his dad and his dad’s family had remained limited until Grandma Crane died in a fall when Dixon was twelve.

      With Jackie spending more time partying than with her son, Grandpa could no longer find excuses to keep Dixon away from his Lyons family, who had proved remarkably accepting of him. They’d even asked him to live with them, but he couldn’t leave his grandfather alone with Jackie, and that had caused some awkwardness on all sides until he’d turned sixteen and could drive himself over to his dad’s place whenever he’d wanted. He’d really gotten to know his brothers then, and he’d started to learn his dad’s trade, building. Dixon had turned out to be a more than fair carpenter.

      Jackie had barely waited for Dixon to turn eighteen before she’d taken off with Harry Griffin. After his grandfather’s death a couple years later, Dixon worked for his dad, and they’d done well together.

      Dixon had been surprised when Jackie had actually married Harry. Loud, stout and bald as a pool cue, Harry had stood a good head shorter than Jackie. Assuming that his mother was just using the affable trucker to get her teeth fixed, because her drug use had destroyed her once beautiful smile, Dixon had expected her to return to War Bonnet after she’d gotten what she’d needed from the man, but she’d claimed to be happy and had always described Harry as a “fine man.” Dixon had always privately supposed that Harry either had money or was more indulgent of Jackie’s partying ways than her parents had been.

      From the looks of her, she hadn’t mended her ways over the years. She looked closer to sixty-four than forty-four. And he really did not need her reappearing after all these years with some unmarried mommy and baby in tow. No matter how stunningly beautiful that little mother might be.

      A brisk wind rattled dead leaves across the crisp brown grass surrounding the house. Dixon turned up his collar and hunched his shoulders to protect his ears as he descended the gentle slope that led him the fifty yards or so to the barn, deliberately turning his attention to the waiting livestock and away from his unwanted guests.

      The red sheet metal structure loomed dark and large in the cold, windy night. Newly oiled, the door hinges merely whispered as he pushed the narrow panel inward and stepped over the sill. Three horses and the restless heifer snuffled and shifted in the loamy blackness. The body heat of the livestock warmed this corner considerably, but if the outdoor temperature dropped much further, the heaters he’d installed last year would cycle on.

      Reaching up, he switched on an overhead light and swung it to illuminate the nearest stall, where the heifer awaited his attention. He’d haltered and hobbled her, as the local veterinarian, Stark Burns, СКАЧАТЬ