Page 12 of Her Cowboy Christmas
I shrug.“It’s your house.”
“But?”
“It’s strange for such a picture-perfect place to be empty.You don’t even have a Christmas tree!Or any decorations!”
“You feel strongly about this, I see.”
“It’s a crime,” I grumble.
Cole laughs.“I’ll fix it right away.We can look for decorations when we get the stuff for the booth.”
I set the paint on the counter and spread out the drop cloth while Cole goes to get his tools from his truck.
“What are we starting with?”he asks once we’re all set up.
“I think the igloo?That or the table stuff.I’ll be able to decorate that by myself.”
“Sure.I’ll do the table thing for the lights now.That way, you can get started with painting.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We work in silence.Cole goes out to the back porch where his saw is set up to cut the wood, and I may or may not use that time to snoop around his place a bit.
I check the first floor of the house, poking my head into an office, bathroom, and hall closet.Everything is clean and organized.It’s also kind of sterile.
In his office, I pause to study the pictures.There’s a photo of Cole with some other boys.He looks to be about fifteen.I smile at how happy he looks with his arms slung around the other boys’ shoulders.
The next photo is of Cole with an older couple.His grandparents, maybe?He’s smiling fondly at them as they beam into the camera.They look like they’re on a ranch.Is that where he grew up?
The last photo is of Cole and some other guys.They’re all in their military uniforms and lounging around.They look like they're in the desert somewhere.Was this taken during one of their deployments, or was he stationed there?
“Caught you.”
I gasp, spinning around to face Cole.My face flames.“Sorry.”
“I don’t mind,” he says with an easy smile.He moves to stand next to me and points at the picture.“That was on my last deployment.I was with my unit overseas.”
“Army?”
He nods.“Green Berets.”
“Impressive.”
He snorts and points to the next photo.“That’s me with Mary and Christopher.”
“Your grandparents?”
“No, foster parents.”
“Oh.”
He points to the last photo and smiles.“That’s my foster brothers and me.We were on the ranch back in Montana.”
“That’s where you grew up?”
“Yeah.I left when I was eighteen and bounced around from base to base.”
“Why didn’t you move back when you got out of the Army?”
