Lone Star Christmas. Jolene Navarro

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       Chapter One

      Bitter winds whipped through the valley and down the back of Max Delgado’s neck. Twenty years had passed since his last visit to the ranch. The Delgado Ranch, his family’s homestead since the early 1800s. He carried the name of the first Delgado in Texas: Maximiliano Francisco Puentes Delgado. Always sounded a bit pretentious to him.

      Looking over the fence to the vast landscape, he tried to pull up memories of his childhood, but being here didn’t help. He had been told he’d spent most of his early years here with his mother. There was probably a reason they were so elusive, or maybe he just didn’t have a good memory. He tended to live in the moment. It was easy, and he liked easy.

      His focus went back to the broken gate. November was never this cold in the Texas Hill Country. The way his life had been going the last few months, though, he probably shouldn’t be surprised.

      Right on cue, the rotten wood crumbled in his gloved hand, the old hardware now useless. The corral was in worse shape than Max had first thought. He’d need a truckload of panels before he put any bulls in this pen. He had hauled a couple practice bulls along with his favorite horses.

      They were getting restless and needed to be unloaded. He glanced back at the neglected pens and arena. Either his uncle had lied about the condition of the ranch, or the man he’d hired had been cashing the checks without doing the work.

      His father’s voice jumped through his head, calling him useless and lazy. Dropping to his haunches, he planted his elbows above his knees and lowered his head. The memories he tried ignoring bombarded his brain. All those years spent trying to prove himself to a father who didn’t care, trying to gain approval from a man who had written him off when he was ten. A man who was now dead. Any chance of mending that relationship was gone.

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