Christmas Gifts: Small Town Christmas / Her Christmas Cowboy. Brenda Minton

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Christmas Gifts: Small Town Christmas / Her Christmas Cowboy - Brenda  Minton

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head.

      Mike remained silent, giving them time to think until both pairs of eyes returned to his. “You have the weekend to make a decision.” And he had the weekend to figure out what to do. “Remember what I said.” He rose. “By the way, Holly, if you’re hungry, eat some fruit. Dinner won’t be for a while yet.”

      They popped up and sped from the room while he sat questioning his threat. If they separated during school, would it make a difference? What about their behavior at home? His chest constricted while Ivy’s words rang in this head. We ‘re all we got. He needed to understand what she meant.

      The refrigerator door opened, and before it closed, he rose and headed into the kitchen. “If you want to watch TV, you can, but I know you have some homework today. Mrs. Fredericks told me.”

      “Can we do it tomorrow?”

      Holly’s favorite question rang in his ears. “You’re going to spend part of the day with Gramma Ellie. Do you want to do homework then?”

      “No.” Ivy spun on her heel. “I’ll do mine now. I’d rather have fun tomorrow.”

      Holly gave it some thought before she followed Ivy toward her room.

      Mike headed into the kitchen, pulled out an apple and took a bite. Dinner was more than an hour away, and for once, he had time on his hands.

      Leaves drifting past the window caught his eye. He planned to rake them tomorrow, but his body charged with energy. His gaze drifted and he spotted Amy in Ellie’s front yard tugging leaves toward the side lot. Big yard. Big job for a slender woman.

      He slipped on his jacket, but before he stepped outside, he ambled to the twins’ bedroom doors. “I’m going out to rake. I’ll be there if you need me.”

      A muffled okay came from Ivy’s room. Holly’s was silent. She’d probably fallen asleep.

      Mike stepped onto the side porch and grabbed his work gloves and rake, then headed down the steps. But instead of tackling his task, he strode across the street, drawn by the lithe woman whose opinion he valued.

      When she spotted him, she stopped and leaned on the rake handle. Her hair shone with streaks of dark gold in the afternoon sun, and her cheeks were rosy with the crisp breeze. “So that’s where you live. The blue-and-white house.”

      “Not too far away.”

      “It’s cute. I admired it when I passed by earlier.”

      “Thanks.” He’d never considered the house cute, as she called it, but it motivated him to turn and take another look. “My wife picked the color. She loved blue.”

      Amy’s smile faded. “I’m sorry about your loss. Grams told me.”

      He suspected Ellie had. He motioned to the lawn to change the subject. “Let me help you.”

      She shook her head. “You have your own leaves to take care of. I can—”

      “I’m sure you can, but I’d like to help.” He swung out the rake and gave a tug. The debris tangled in the tines, jerking him to a sudden stop. “Does Ellie … does your grandmother have an old sheet or maybe a tarp? We can make fast work of this if she does.”

      “A sheet?”

      “We’ll rake the leaves onto it and drag the load to the side. Much easier.”

      Her eyebrows arched. “That’s a great idea.” She dropped the rake. “Wish I’d thought of that a half hour ago.”

      She darted off as he watched her long legs make short work of the distance. A runner. He could picture her jogging down the streets of Chicago, turning heads as she went. The woman definitely turned his. Even though a tinge of guilt swept past him, he didn’t let it sway his thoughts. Laura had been gone three years, and it had been a long time since he’d really looked at another woman.

      Amy waved a white cloth at him as she returned. “Grams said to use this.” She tossed it to him as she approached, a grin growing on her face. “Here’s the deal. You help me, and I’ll come over and help you.”

      Normally he wouldn’t consider it, but for the first time in years, he felt like a man instead of just a dad. “Deal.”

      Together they spread the sheet on the grass and raked the leaves into the center. When it had filled they dragged the burden to the side lot. The trip repeated over and over, and before he realized how much time had passed, the twins were scuttling across the road.

      “We’re hungry.” Ivy’s softer voice reached him.

      Holly’s command followed. “It’s time for dinner. Are you going to feed us?”

      Mike checked his watch. Six o’clock. Time had flown. He eyed Ellie’s yard, almost empty of leaves, and drew up his shoulders. “Appears I’m being summoned.” He lifted the rake. “I can finish this tomorrow after work if you—”

      “Tomorrow’s your yard. This is all but done.” She gave them a wave. “Your dad has been kind enough to help me with the leaves.”

      The twins spun toward the pile as if they hadn’t noticed it. A grin grew on their faces, and before Mike could move, they’d darted past them toward the mound. Holly dived toward the heap first, but Ivy shot past and Holly tripped over her foot. She skidded onto her knees and tumbled into the crackling leaves as Ivy plowed in beside her, leaves flying into the air and skittering across the grass. Mike dropped his rake and dashed forward, but not before Holly was on top of her sister, hands around her throat. “You tripped me on purpose.”

      “No, she didn’t.” Mike grasped her jacket and yanked her up. “You tripped over her foot.”

      Tears flowed down Holly’s face, more from his taking Ivy’s side than from being hurt, he suspected.

      “Are you okay?” Amy reached their side but stood back observing the fray.

      As Mike pulled Ivy from the leaves, she gave him her sad-eyes look and rubbed her neck. “She choked me.”

      “I know.” Embarrassed and helpless, he raked his fingers through his hair. “I’d better get these girls home.”

      Amy stepped closer. “If they’re hungry, Grams is ordering pizza and—”

      “Pizza!”

      Apparently the argument had been forgotten, but their eager voices failed to influence him. “Thanks anyway, Amy.”

      “Daddy, I’m hungry.” Holly’s narrowed eyes matched her frown.

      “Please don’t bark at me.” He turned a scowl back at her. “I’m sorry. The time flew and I didn’t realize—” He sucked in air and stopped apologizing. That was it. He’d grown tired of marching to Holly’s commands. “We’ll go home and have dinner after we talk again.”

      “But the pizza.” Her frown deepened.

      Ivy leaned her head against his side. He wrapped his arm around her, pleased she’d not gotten mouthy, too.

      Amy

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