A Cowboy Christmas. Janette Kenny

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A Cowboy Christmas - Janette Kenny The Lost Sons Trilogy

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about the tree,” she said.

      “What tree?” he asked.

      She rolled her eyes. “The Christmas tree. I think it should be a tall one, say six foot at least. I’ll also need a selection of boughs for swags and decorations.”

      He shrugged and fished out another handful of popped corn. “I thought folks put the tree up on Christmas Eve?”

      “Well, yes, traditionally,” she said. “But since you are getting married on Christmas Eve, it should be done before then.”

      “Fine. We’ll set it up the day before.”

      She flattened her palms on the table and leaned a bit toward him to draw his attention away from the popcorn. “That’s still waiting too long.”

      “Just when did you want to put it up?” he asked, rocking back and locking his arms over his chest as if displeased by her input.

      “Today,” she said, earning her a dismissive snort from Reid and a cough from Hubert.

      The old butler recovered his manners first. “That would be seven days before the holiday, Miss Cade.”

      “I can count,” she said. “Setting it up now would put us all in the holiday spirit that much sooner.”

      Reid’s dark gaze skewered her with such icy dismissal that she shivered. “It’s going to take a helluva lot more than a tree dressed up in ribbons, fruit and tin ornaments to put me in the holiday spirit.”

      She pursed her lips and counted to ten, then added another ten before she felt marginally in control. “It’s your wedding, Mr. Barclay. I’m sure your bride would appreciate it if you showed a bit of enthusiasm for the celebration.”

      He shoved to his feet, jaw anvil-hard and shoulders racked tight. “I didn’t pick the woman or the day, so don’t expect me to get heated up over it all.”

      With that, he stormed out of the kitchen and down the hall, his bootheels striking the hardwood floor like gunshots. He marched into his office and slammed the door so hard the windowpanes rattled.

      She blew out an exasperated breath. “Is he always this intractable?”

      “He’s often far worse,” Hubert said and without another word of explanation, took himself off as well.

      Ellie dropped onto the bench and cradled her aching head. She couldn’t imagine anyone forcing Reid Barclay to do anything he didn’t want to do. Certainly not marriage.

      Memories of their interlude in the pantry taunted her. Of course. He must have taken liberties with a lady and her family was forcing him to do the honorable thing.

      If that was the case, how very sad for both of them.

      However, that was even more reason to make the house as festive and cheery as possible. Despite the fact that Reid was playing the part of a curmudgeon, she felt it her duty as housekeeper to create a pleasant atmosphere for the bride.

      With renewed purpose, Ellie set about making a list of what she’d need to turn this drab house into a sparkling jewel for the holiday wedding. Christmas was the most wondrous time of the year.

      She loved this season. She loved her pa and was not going to let his cold reception darken her spirits or deter her. And she certainly wasn’t going to allow herself to get moon-eyed over the groom ever again.

      Reid sat at his desk drumming impatient fingers on the smooth surface. He should be drafting a letter to the potential buyer for his yearling thoroughbreds to confirm if the man was still interested. Instead, he was stewing over that confrontation with Miss Ellie Jo Cade.

      She was a pushy one.

      What the hell made her think that cluttering his house up with decorations would brighten his mood? Nothing was going to do that. Not whiskey. Not a willing woman. Not even the probability of him gaining his freedom by chucking it all here and now.

      He was damned. Simple as that. When he looked in the mirror, he saw the man who’d betrayed the only friends he had by trusting Burl Erston to save his hide from hanging, and the ranch from bankruptcy. He saw a young woman lying in the street, dead. He saw the trust in his benefactor’s eyes long after Reid had broken his promise to him by landing them all in this fix.

      Burl Erston believed he had Reid over a barrel, that he was forcing his hand now. But the man couldn’t be more wrong.

      Reid’s conscience was driving him to marry Cheryl. It had goaded him into letting it be known that he was back on the Crown Seven and was ready to face Dade and Trey, and anyone else he’d wronged.

      He’d be a married man in seven days. God help him.

      He scrubbed a hand over his nape and swore. Cheryl would be here any day now. Though it pained him to admit it, Miss Cade was right about one thing.

      The house ought to look festive and welcoming for Cheryl. He owed that much to her, and to her father.

      He pushed to his feet and headed across the room. Hell, with his luck, Miss Cade was one of them that went caroling.

      He found her in the parlor, staring at the room and tapping a finger on her tooth. In fact she was so deep in thought he was sure she hadn’t heard him come in.

      He should’ve known better.

      “If you’ve come to apologize for that tyrannical act earlier,” she said, still not looking at him, “then I accept.”

      His fingers fisted, but he slammed a lid on his irritation and proceeded with why he’d sought her out. “You want to go with me when I cut down your pine tree?”

      That brought her gaze to his. “You’re willing to take me along to pick it out?”

      That wasn’t what he’d said or meant, but what the hell. A tree was a tree to him.

      “Might as well get what you want,” he said. “I figured if we left now we’d be back in time for dinner.”

      Her narrow shoulders drooped. “If I go, who will prepare your dinner?”

      “I can grab a bite with the men,” he said, nearly losing his train of thought as he caught the excitement in her eyes. “Hubert can fend for himself once.”

      “Excellent!” She hurried into the hall. “I’ll just be a moment grabbing my cloak.”

      He smiled at her enthusiasm and headed toward the back door. “I’ll hitch up the sleigh and meet you around back.”

      Reid shrugged into his sheepskin coat and pushed outside. He wasn’t going to question the wisdom in going off alone with Miss Cade. Nope, he knew why he wanted to get her alone, and it didn’t have a thing to do with collecting greenery or a tree.

      By the time he readied the sleigh and headed toward the house, Miss Cade was waiting for him on the terrace. He started to get out to help her in, but she waved away his help.

      “I can manage,” she said, and matched action to words.

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