Page 16 of Cowboy's Christmas Girlfriend

“Just the vendor again, for my new HVAC system. He wants a final decision.” He jammed his phone in his pocket and zipped it shut.

“Everything okay with that? You seem kind of stressed.”

Will let out a harsh breath. “It’s just a tough call,” he said. “On the one hand, it’d save me a whole lot of money. I’d cut my power bills almost in half. I could build some new barns, maybe even expand. I’d have money to invest in the horse program, which would make Sarah happy. On the surface, it’s perfect, but...”

“But?”

“But it would mean the whole system running completely on computers. What if the power went down? We’ve got backup generators, but that’s a lot to keep running. One burnt-out gennie, one circuit fried, that’s all my barns without heat in the winter. It’s a big risk to take. Is it worth the reward?”

“You’re asking me?” Suzanna chuckled. “I might’ve managed a ride, but you’ve got me stumped there.”

“Guess that makes two of us,” said Will.

“Oh, don’t say that.” Suzanna bumped up against him, a companionable nudge. “You should cut yourself some slack. You’ve got all that on your mind, all the management, admin—I’ve seen you up late, doing your books. You do all that by yourself and still get up every morning and pitch in with the chores. It’s a lot, you know?”

Will shook his head at that, but his frown had faded. “I’d feel wrong not doing it,” he said. “Gotta keep my hands dirty, stay in touch with my land.”

Suzanna looked out over the ranchland, soft, snowy hills, scraggly patches of forest. She could see the sense in that. The ranch had a pulse to it, a life of its own. She’d miss that heartbeat when it came time to go.

And Will…he was so connected to his land. She’d miss him when it was time for her to leave, too.

* * *

The big house was bustling by late afternoon, the ranch hands’ dining hall swarming with family. They’d come for the next event—the gingerbread house competition. The long wooden tables had been pushed together, groaning with trays of gumdrops and fresh-baked gingerbread. Tubs of icing steamed warmly, white, red, and green. Suzanna waved, catching sight of Cassie and Sarah and Cassie’s sister, Amy, but when she looked for the twins, they were nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Beth and Ann?” she asked.

“Upstairs with Lucky,” said Will. “Would you mind bringing them down? I’ve got to make a quick call.”

Suzanna hustled upstairs and found the twins in their bedroom, building a Lego bridge over a sleeping Lucky. The dog woke at the door’s creak and sprang to his feet, sending bricks flying in every direction.

“Lucky! You broke our bridge.”

“Bad Lucky. Bad.”

Lucky’s ears drooped. Suzanna bent to pet him. “You can’t blame him,” she said. “You’re the ones who built your bridge over his butt.”

“You said ‘butt,’” said Amy. Beth giggled into her hand.

“I did,” said Suzanna— “and speaking of butts, why are yours still up here? The contest’s all set up, about to get started.”

Beth and Ann exchanged glances. “We’re protesting,” said Ann.

Suzanna cocked a brow. “Protesting what?”

“Protesting Dad.” Beth stared down at her Christmas socks, red and green, sewn with bells. “He’s been doing, uh...”

“Unfair labor practices,” said Ann. “That’s when your boss is a double-dip jerk.”

“Your...what?” Suzanna bit her lip, choking back laughter. “So, what, you’re on strike?”

“No. We’re protesting.” Ann drew herself up. “We’re not playing gingerbread house till Dad meets our demands.”

“And what would those be?”

Beth drew herself up. “He can’t wipe off our frosting and redo it himself.”

“He can’t eat our gumdrops if they’re not uniform.” Ann spat out the last word in a tone so like Will’s it was all Suzanna could do to keep from cracking up.

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