Page 44 of Mistletoe Cowboy

“Hello, you gorgeous woman,” he enthused, and hugged her before she could back away. “It’s so good to see you again!”

She drew back. “Good to see you, Ron. Thanks for coming. We may have to pay your fee on the installment plan—”

“Don’t insult me,” he interrupted. “I do some pro bono work. This will add to my curriculum vitae,” he added on a chuckle. “Got some tea?”

She was briefly disconcerted. “Hot or cold?”

“Hot.”

“Okay. Come on in,” she added with a glance at the stable. Parker and Teddie were looking in her direction, but they didn’t come out.

“Where’s your daughter?” Ron asked with barely concealed distaste.

“She’s out in the stable with Parker.”

His chin lifted. “Parker?”

She nodded as she boiled water and searched for a few scarce tea bags. “He’s a horse wrangler for J.L. Denton, who owns the big ranch property next door. His wife writes for television, thatWarriors and Warlocksseries.”

“Never watched it,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Do you think it’s safe to leave a man you barely know alone with your little girl?”

She stopped what she was doing and turned to him, her pale eyes flashing.

He held up both hands. “Sorry. Obviously you know him better than I do. If you trust him, that’s the main thing.”

“The main thing is that Teddie trusts him,” she said in a soft, biting tone.

He shrugged. His keen eyes looked around the room. “Primitive, but I suppose it’s serviceable,” he mentioned. “Some nice collectibles on that shelf,” he added. “World War II?” he asked.

“Yes. My grandfather brought them back from Japan.”

“They’re worth some money,” he said. “Do you still have those old Western pistols your husband had?”

“I sold them,” she said. “I don’t like guns.”

“Neither do I,” he agreed.

She finally managed to get a tea bag and hot water in the same cup. She handed it to him.

“Sugar’s on the table,” she told him.

He waved it away. “I learned to drink tea in Japan. They never offer sugar with it. You have to ask for it.”

He sipped the tea and frowned. “What is this?”

“I’m not really sure,” she said apologetically. “We don’t drink tea. That was in a housewarming gift the Dentons sent over when we moved in.”

“I prefer Earl Grey,” he said, sipping it. “Or Darjeeling. But this is okay.”

“I’m so glad.” She bit her tongue to keep from making it sound sarcastic.

“So. Tell me about this horse.”

“He’s a beautiful old horse, a palomino. Teddie named him Bartholomew and she loves him dearly.” She drew in a breath. “The previous owner had neglected him so badly that his hooves were clogged and infected, and he had deep cuts where he’d been abused with a whip.”

Ron’s eyes narrowed. “Can anyone prove that he inflicted those cuts?”

She sighed. “There were no eyewitnesses.”

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