A Cowboy Under The Mistletoe. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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      It was a rare admission of vulnerability and Whitney sucked in a breath. “Aw, Mom, I’m sorry. This seemed like a good idea at the time, but maybe—”

      “Don’t you dare consider giving it up, Whitney Lenore! It’s a terrific opportunity, and I’ll adjust. You’ll adjust. We’ll be fine, and stronger for the experience. Buck up, sweetheart. And so will I. Christmas is less than a month away.”

      “Yeah, it is. That’s not long.”

      “Not long at all. Do you have a tree for your apartment? That’s very important. Yes, you’ll be here for the actual day, but you need your own tree.”

      “I do. In fact...” She hesitated. She hadn’t had the best of luck with guys and her mom worried. “Do you remember the lawyer I mentioned, the one who’s on the calendar you saw when you came up here in October?”

      “I certainly do! That was a memorable picture.”

      “He came into Rangeland Roasters yesterday and asked me out.”

      “Oh, my. Are you going?”

      “Sort of. I invited him to help me decorate my tree tomorrow night. He’s bringing Chinese.”

      “Oh.” The silence on the other end was filled with her mother’s unspoken thoughts. “That calendar picture makes him look...”

      “I know, but he’s not really like that. He’s actually very sweet.”

      “He doesn’t look sweet.”

      In her heart of hearts, Whitney hoped he wasn’t, either. She was ready for the sexual adventure promised by Ty’s rakish expression in the photo. But that wasn’t something she was about to admit to her mother. “Take my word for it. He is. He’s embarrassed by that picture.”

      “If you say so. At least you know something of his background. I admire anyone who’s pulled himself up by his bootstraps.”

      “And it’s not as if he’s a stranger. He patronized the Cheyenne location for months while I was still there. We talked a lot.”

      “But he didn’t ask you out?”

      “He was dating someone else.”

      More silence. “I’m sure he’s a very nice young man.”

      “He is.” Whitney could almost hear her mother’s questions. She wanted to know if Ty changed girlfriends as easily as he changed razor blades. She wanted to know if Ty understood that her daughter was an amazing woman not to be trifled with.

      Whitney had no definitive answers for those questions. Her instincts told her that she could trust Ty, but she had no hard evidence to support her belief. And she’d been wrong before. Her mother had been there to pick up the pieces, so she could be forgiven for being suspicious, especially when her precious child was five hours away.

      “He’d better treat you well,” her mother said at last, “or he’ll answer to me.”

      “Thanks, Mom.” Even at twenty-six, she treasured the protective tone in her mother’s voice. “If he gets out of line, I’ll tell him that.”

      “Be sure that you do. And now your cousins are dying to tell you about the disastrous football game. Do you have a few more minutes?”

      “You bet.”

      “Then I’ll walk into the living room and put you on speaker so everyone can talk. Is that okay?”

      “That’s more than okay. And Mom?”

      “What, honey?”

      “I love you.”

      “I love you, too, sweetheart.” There was a telltale catch in her mother’s voice. “So here’s the group.”

      * * *

      WITH NINE PEOPLE sitting down for Thanksgiving, Ty’s foster mother, Rosie, had moved the festivities to the rec room. A wooden cover turned the pool table into a dining table. Although the original tablecloth had worn out, she’d used the same red-and-white-checked material for the new one. Tradition was important to Rosie.

      She was in her element on a day like this, surrounded by friends and family. She’d had her hair freshly cut and colored its usual blond, although she’d added some sassy red streaks. Herb looked fit and his gaze was clear and untroubled. Ty loved seeing his foster parents happy and relaxed after the drama of almost losing the ranch.

      Yet the crisis had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. It had brought Cade Gallagher and Damon Harrison, the first two boys Rosie and Herb had fostered, back home. Then Cade had reunited with his high school sweetheart, Lexi Simmons.

      Rosie had to be thrilled about that. Lexi was like a daughter to her and Lexi’s parents were dear friends. Judging from the dinner table banter between Cade and the people who could turn out to be his in-laws, Janine and Aaron Simmons had forgiven him for breaking their daughter’s heart five years ago.

      Like most of the boys at the ranch, Ty had once had a huge crush on Lexi. Petite and curvy, with wavy brown hair and hazel eyes that sparkled most of the time, she’d been a welcome sight whenever she’d come out to visit, either alone or with her folks. But after she’d hooked up with Cade, all the guys had backed off, especially Damon, who was probably Cade’s best friend in the world.

      For years Damon had acted as if he’d never settle down, but now he’d apparently found the perfect partner in Philomena Turner, a feisty redhead. Or rather Rosie had found him the perfect partner. It was obvious to anyone who knew Rosie that she’d deliberately thrown those two together last July. She wanted her boys to find true love and she was always willing to lend a helping hand whether they wanted her to or not.

      Ty had been thinking about that. Living in Cheyenne had kept him a safe distance from Rosie’s machinations, but yesterday he’d made a date here in Sheridan right under her nose. He wouldn’t attempt to keep it a secret, either.

      Yeah, like he could. Sheridan was a small town and even though Whitney was new here, chances were good that Rosie had met her. Rangeland Roasters must have contributed to the Kickstarter campaign or they wouldn’t have the calendar hanging on the wall.

      “Who’s up for some boot scootin’ tomorrow night?” Cade glanced around the table laden with the remains of their feast. “Lexi and I thought we’d check out the new band.”

      “I’m game.” Damon pushed back his chair. “That’ll give me twenty-four hours to recover. At the moment I can barely move, let alone do the two-step.” He turned to Phil. “Are you willing to have me steer you around the floor tomorrow night?”

      “I’m willing, but you’d better wear your steel-toed boots. I haven’t danced since August and I doubt I’ve improved since then.”

      “I can’t remember the last time Rosie and I danced,” Herb said. “How about it, Rosie? Think we can keep up with these kids?”

      “Ha.” Rosie grinned. “They’ll have to keep up with us. Janine, you and Aaron should СКАЧАТЬ