Maverick Christmas. Joanna Wayne

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      Chrysie followed Mrs. Larkey as she walked back to the stage to corral the singing Christmas trees, who were rummaging through the toys that were meant to be props. “Are those two boys always so disruptive?” she asked.

      “Pretty much,” Mrs. Larkey said. “Such a shame when their father is so nice.”

      “It’s none of my business, but…” She let the comment drop. None of her business was the operative phrase here.

      “Okay, Christmas trees,” Mrs. Larkey said, “put down the toys and get back on the platform. You have to be ready to sing as soon as Santa Claus delivers the bad news to the reindeer.”

      She turned back to Chrysie. “The sheriff does the best he can, but the boys are just too much for him.”

      The Sheriff. Chrysie groaned inwardly. If she’d known the sheriff or any other lawman was even remotely connected to the pageant, she’d never have volunteered or let the girls participate. Better if the guy didn’t even know she existed.

      She turned away just in time to see Danny’s brother crash into the Christmas tree they were using as the main prop. The tree rocked back and forth a second, then toppled to the floor, eliciting piercing squeals from the young girls who’d been standing under it and loud laughs from the boys.

      Instinctively Chrysie grabbed the guilty child by the arm. “That was not funny, young man. You could have hurt someone.”

      “Leggo of me. It was an accident.”

      “An accident that wouldn’t have happened if you’d been practicing with the other reindeer.”

      “Daddy!” The deafening holler played havoc on her eardrums.

      The boy broke away from her and rushed down the steps, hurling himself into the arms of a cowboy who’d apparently come in the back door unnoticed.

      A gorgeous, dark-haired hunk of a cowboy. Wouldn’t you know?

      “Is there a problem?”

      “Your son knocked over the Christmas tree.”

      “It was an accident, Daddy.”

      The cowboy walked up on the stage, looking tough and incredibly sexy. He rocked back on his heels and studied the tree. “Tree looks like it survived. Was anyone hurt?”

      “Everyone’s fine, Sheriff McCain.” He’d directed the question at Chrysie, but Mrs. Larkey had rushed over and answered for her.

      “Then I guess no harm was done.” The sheriff picked up the tree and set it in an upright position. “How’s that?” he said, standing back to see if the tree was straight.

      Mrs. Larkey smiled up at him as if he’d accomplished some miraculous act. “It looks perfect, Sheriff McCain.”

      The woman was married, and the guy still had her eating out of his hands. Chrysie stepped between Mrs. Larkey and the sheriff. “Actually, it’s not quite perfect. It’s leaning toward the left.”

      Mrs. Larkey looked from the tree to Chrysie, then shook her head as if she thought Chrysie was wrong. But she gathered the children and sent them back to their places.

      The sheriff ignored the tree and looked Chrysie right in the eye. “Everything looks fine to me.”

      “The tree is leaning.”

      “If you say so.” He adjusted the angle. “Does that suit you? If not, I can always move it another fiftieth of an inch.”

      “Now it’s leaning to the right.”

      He eyed it critically. “Looks straight to me, but maybe I’m just not quite as uptight about Christmas trees as you.”

      “It was straight before—” She caught herself before she said more. It was the stress of the situation that was getting to her, stress that had nothing to do with Christmas or the sheriff’s son. “Tree’s fine,” she said, then turned her back on him and walked away.

      She could kick herself for having said anything at all to the man. Riling the sheriff was the last thing she needed. Keeping a low profile was the name of the game—and the game was staying alive.

      “EAT YOUR CEREAL, Danny.”

      “I am eating.”

      “Eat faster. It’s snowing, and driving will be a…” Josh McCain bit back the word he would have used before the boys had come to live with him. Who’d have thought two small boys could turn his life totally upside down?

      “Daddy, Davy’s slurping his hot chocolate, and my teacher said it’s bad manners to slurp.”

      “That’s just when you’re at school, right, Daddy? Cowboys can slurp at home.”

      “Best not to.” Josh grabbed a piece of cold toast as he passed the table. He only managed to wolf down one bite before his cell phone jangled.

      “Sheriff McCain.”

      “Sheriff, this is Cindy Gathers. I really hate to call you with this, but you’re going to have to find someone else to keep the boys after school. I thought I could handle it, but it’s just too much on me what with my arthritis and all.”

      He groaned. It was the fourth sitter he’d lost in six months. The boys went through them almost as fast as they went through a box of cereal.

      “I hope you can give me time to find another sitter before you bail on me.”

      “I’m sorry about this, Sheriff, real sorry, but I just don’t think I can handle them another day. You know how it is. I love them, but they just don’t mind. It’s worse than riding herd over wild horses.”

      “They’re just being boys.”

      Danny jumped down from the table and went tearing down the hall with Davy hot on his trail.

      “You hit me first.”

      “Did not.”

      “Did so.”

      A little undisciplined, Josh admitted to himself, but they weren’t bad kids. The problem was probably more his fault than theirs.

      He didn’t know squat about raising kids. Cattle, yeah. That he could handle. Even sheriffing seemed to come naturally to him. But fatherhood had him over a barrel. It had just come at him too fast and with too little warning.

      His cell phone rang again. This time it was Bone-head up on Highway 12. Someone had cut some of his fences, and a couple of his prize bulls had gotten out. He figured it was the Grayson boys since he’d demanded they pay for a sheep they’d shot when they were hunting on his land. Josh promised he’d be out to check the fences as soon as he dropped the boys off to school.

      “I’m counting to five,” Josh yelled. “You best be in the truck and ready to go to school by the time I finish.” Normally they would have ridden the school bus, but he’d let them sleep СКАЧАТЬ