Page 4 of The Holiday Gift

“It can keep. I’ll walk you back up to your truck. I’ve got to plug in my phone anyway.”

A couple of his ranch dogs came out from the barn to say hello as they walked the short distance to his house. He reached down and petted them both, in total sympathy. He felt like a ranch dog to her: a constant, steady companion with a few useful skills that came in handy once in a while.

Would she ever be able to see him as anything more?

“Thanks again, Chase,” Faith said when they reached her own pickup truck—the one she had insisted on driving over that morning, even though he told her he could easily pick her up and drop her back off at the Star N.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“Seriously, I was out of my depth. Horses aren’t exactly my area of expertise. Who knows, I might have brought home a nag. As always, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He could feel tension clutch at his shoulders again. “Not true,” he said, his voice more abrupt than he intended. “You didn’t need me. Not really. You’d already done your research and knew what you wanted in a barrel racer. You just needed somebody to back you up.”

She smiled as they reached her pickup truck and a pale shaft of sunlight somehow managed to pierce the cloud cover and land right on her delicate features, so soft and lovely it made his heart hurt.

“I’m so lucky that somebody is always you,” she said.

He let out a breath, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms. He didn’t have that right—nor could he let things go on as they were.

“About the stockgrowers’ party,” he began.

If he hadn’t been looking, he might have missed the leap of something that looked suspiciously like fear in her green eyes before she shifted her gaze away from him.

“Really, it doesn’t bother me to skip it this year if you want to make other plans.”

“I don’t want to skip it,” he growled. “I want to go. With you. On a date.”

He intended to stress the last word, to make it plain this wouldn’t be two buddies just hanging out together, like they always did. As a result, the word took on unnatural proportions and he nearly snapped it out until it arced between them like an arrow twanged from a crossbow.

Eyes wide, she gazed at him for a long moment, clearly startled by his vehemence. After a moment, she nodded. “Okay. That’s settled, then. We can figure out the details later.”

Nothingwas settled. He needed to tell herdatewas the operative word here, that he didn’t want to take her to the party as her neighbor and friend who gave her random advice on a barrel racing horse for her daughter or helped her with the hay season.

He wanted the right to hold her—to dance with her and flirt and whisper soft, sexy words in her ear.

How the hell could he tell her that, after all this time, when he had so carefully cultivated a safe, casual relationship that was the exact opposite of what he really wanted? Before he could figure that out, an SUV he didn’t recognize drove up the lane toward his house.

“Were you expecting company?” she asked.

“Don’t think so.” He frowned as the car pulled up beside them—and his frown intensified when the passenger door opened and a girl jumped out, then raced toward him. “Daddy!”

Chapter 2

He stared at his eleven-year-old daughter, dressed to the nines in an outfit more suited to a photo shoot for a children’s clothing store than for a working cattle ranch.

“Adaline! What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you until next weekend.”

“I know, Dad! Isn’t it great? We get extra time together—maybe even two whole weeks! Mom pulled me out of school until after Christmas. Isn’t that awesome? My teachers are going to email me all my homework so I don’t miss too much—not that they ever do anything the last few weeks before Christmas vacation anyway but waste time showing movies and doing busywork and stuff.”

That sounded like a direct quote from her mother, who had little respect for the educational system, even the expensive private school she insisted on sending their daughter to.

As if on cue, his ex-wife climbed out of the driver’s side of what must be a new vehicle, judging by the temporary license plates in the window.

She looked uncharacteristically disordered, with her sweater askew and her hair a little messy in back where she must have been leaning against the headrest as she drove.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” she said. “We took a chance. I’ve been trying to call you all afternoon. Why didn’t you answer?”

“My phone ran out of juice and I forgot to take the charger to the auction with us. What’s going on?”

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