A Cowboy's Christmas Reunion. Sasha Summers

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      “How is your father?” She’d missed him. Teddy Boone was a great barrel-chested man who let everyone know when he entered a room.

      “Fine. He lives in the Lodge. He still misses Mom a lot. Think leading guests to check out the flowers when the hills are blooming, or hike, or bird-watch keeps him busy. In the hotter months, he’s with the aunts in Montana. He’s here now, so stop by and say hi. He’d love that.”

      She nodded. “He must be so proud of everything you have accomplished.”

      “Hunter started it, getting all successful. We couldn’t let him show us up, you know?” He swiped another gingerbread cookie. “That Boone competitive streak. You know Hunter. Hell, I think you know Hunter best of all.” His expression turned serious—as serious as Fisher ever got.

      “No, not really.”

      “Aw, come on, Josie. That’s not true—”

      “Years ago, maybe.” She put the sample plate behind the counter and began to wipe down the counter. “Why does everyone keep talking about the past?”

      “What’s got you so worked up?”

      She shut the display case with a little more force than necessary. “Nothing.”

      “Right.”

      “Moving on.” She shot him a look. “You dating anyone?”

      He winked at her. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think that would go over too well with my brother.”

      She hadn’t meant to yell, but she did. “Why the hell would Hunter care if I dated anyone? He’s married, remember?”

      If she hadn’t been yelling, she might have heard the bell over the door jingle. But she didn’t. So Eli’s angry words took her by complete surprise. “My mom divorced my dad when I was three.”

      Josie couldn’t think. Or speak. Or breathe. The agony on Eli’s face was unbearable. “I...I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Eli,” she finally managed.

      “You should be,” Eli bit out. “It’s your fault she left.”

      “Eli,” Fisher cut in.

      Josie was reeling. “Eli, I...” She had no words. She knew nothing she said could make a difference.

      Dara placed a hand on Eli’s arm. “Walk me home?” Eli didn’t look up as Dara led him from the bakery.

      Her heart ached for him, truly ached for him. She knew how hard it was, growing up without a mother. If she’d been the cause of that... No, surely not. Hunter was a man of his word. He’d married Amy—he wouldn’t have let it fall apart without a fight.

      “What is all the yelling about?” Her father hobbled into the kitchen through the door that connected their home to the bakery. “I could hear you all the way in my room.”

      Josie watched Eli and Dara walk away. She saw the slump to Eli’s shoulders, knew the anger and pain in his voice.

      “How the hell did you not know he’s single?” Fisher asked, stunned.

      “What are we talking about?” her father asked.

      “Hunter.” Fisher reached around the counter for another gingerbread cookie.

      “Oh.” Her father sounded far too pleased, so she looked at him. “What?”

      “What?” she echoed. “That’s all you have to say?” Hunter Boone is single.

      Her father’s smile disappeared. “You told me if I ever mentioned him you’d never talk to me again. Guess I figured the more time the two of you spent together, you’d figure things out.”

      “Seriously, Josie?” Fisher shook his head, then ate another cookie.

      “Every time I brought him up, you changed the subject. I got the point,” her father continued.

      “That was a long time ago.” He hadn’t mentioned Hunter or the rest of his family in years. Because she’d told him not to. Josie grabbed the plate and shoved it into a cabinet out of Fisher’s reach. “I was young and hurt—”

      “You’re my baby girl. And I listened to you,” her father interrupted. “I figured someday you’d find out that he was here, waiting for you.”

      Josie glared at her father. “Daddy, I know you love Hunter. But that’s ancient history—”

      “Maybe for you.” Fisher’s eyebrows went up.

      Her father’s voice was cautious. “Now, Fisher—”

      Fisher leaned forward, staring into her eyes. “Ask me how many dates my brother’s been on since Amy left.”

      She didn’t want to know, did she? No. She didn’t.

      “Let’s give her some time to get used to things, Fisher.” Her father chuckled. “Her whole world just got flipped upside down.”

      She lied quickly, to herself and the two of them. “Nothing has changed. Nothing. I’m here to take care of you, Dad, not relive some teenage romance.” She yanked the apron over her head and threw it on the back counter.

      “Josie,” Fisher groaned. “Come on now.”

      She held up her hand. “Stop. Please.” She paused. “I’m tired. I need a shower. I just hurt a boy that I’d never in a million years want to hurt. So, please, just stop.”

      Her father exchanged a quick look with Fisher before he sighed. “It’s closing time, anyway.”

      “I’ll lock up,” Josie offered, looking pointedly at Fisher.

      Fisher took the hint. “Eli will be all right. You okay?”

      She nodded but wouldn’t look at him.

      Fisher left and Josie locked the door behind him. She took her father’s arm, leading him back into the house.

      “Should I have told you, Josie?” her father asked.

      “No, Dad.” She patted his hand. There was no way to go back. Thinking about what could have been, what might have happened, was pointless. “It doesn’t matter. Now go sit, and I’ll get you some water. Maybe a snack?”

      Her father nodded, moving slowly to his recliner in the other room. She headed into the kitchen, grappling with too many emotions to understand. But a part of her—a part deeply buried inside—felt relief. He wasn’t a cheater. He wasn’t a liar. He had loved her. Maybe he still—

      “Josie, bring the car around,” her father yelled. “We gotta get Sprinkles to the hospital.”

      * * *

      HUNTER’S CELL SCREEN lit up. Amy. He hadn’t had enough coffee for this yet.

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