Page 6 of Cowboy's Christmas Girlfriend

Will laughed out loud, finally seeming to relax. “He’s stopped throwing up, so they’re out of the doghouse. But I’m at the end of my rope, trying to get them to eat healthy instead of slipping their veggies under the table.”

“My mom used to make me—” Suzanna cut herself off, bile rising in her throat.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She’d been about to say weigh in before dinner so I wouldn’t pig out. The idea of Will doing the same, robbing sweet Beth and Ann of the joy of food, made her sick to her stomach. “Maybe try kid-friendly versions,” she said instead. “Like, take all that spinach and stuff it in ravioli.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Will. He reached over the gearshift and patted her arm. “Thanks for understanding. This is going to be great.”

During the rest of the drive, they managed a decent conversation without much awkwardness. Finally, they turned under an arched entrance into a driveway—a long one.

Holy heck! Was that his house? He parked the truck in front of a mansion with great sprawling wings and high, snowy gables. Suzanna stepped out of the truck and stood gawping.

“So, like, your house…is it behind Buckingham Palace?” she squeaked out.

Will blinked. “Excuse me?”

Suzanna gestured at the mansion. “This is enormous. Like a whole estate. I was expecting…I don’t know. A cute little shanty with a pigpen out back.”

“What, like Clint Eastwood had in Unforgiven?”

Suzanna flushed. “Maybe.”

“That wouldn’t work so good on a ranch this size.” Will gestured past the house, at the endless white plains rolling up to the mountains. “My ranch hands live here, and I need space for guests, and for seasonal help. You should see it in spring, when we’re—oh, look. There’s Mom now.” Will waved at a red-cheeked woman draped in Christmas lights. She waved back, and the big French doors flew open behind her, disgorging a flood of laughing, bickering guests.

“That’s my aunt Nancy,” said Will, “and that’s Dad and Uncle Albert, and Aunt Val and Uncle Vern. And Taison and Kat—they’re the ones getting hitched—and behind them, that’s Tabby and George. They’re my cousins.”

Suzanna stared wide-eyed as Will rattled off names, cousins and childhood friends, uncles and aunts. His family alone could’ve sold out a small restaurant, and then there were the assorted townsfolk and the girlfriends and boyfriends. That guy with the brown beard, was that Todd or Tim? And the kid in the red coat—

“Oh, and that there, that’s Sarah, but we call her Chickadee. And her best friend Cassie, and Cassie’s sister, Amy. They’re here all the time, so you’ll get to know them.”

“Sarah. Your sister, right?” Suzanna felt faint. Will had mentioned a sister, but not everyone else. Not this flood of humanity, all headed their way.

“So, you’re the famous Suzanna.” Taison stuck out his hand for a warm, hearty shake. “Me and Kat had a bet, if you’d look like your picture.”

“You don’t,” said Kat. “You’re way cuter in person. But aren’t you freezing? Here, take my scarf.” She unwound her scarf and draped it over Suzanna’s shoulders, bundling it up to her ears to block—or at least blunt—the wind.

“You should have my hat too,” said someone—Will’s mom, maybe—and the next thing she knew, a fuzzy pink pompom was hanging in her face. She shook it aside, babbling her thanks, but her gratitude was drowned in an onslaught of chatter, questions and compliments and cheery Christmas wishes, all directed at her, from all sides at once. Her head spun and she swayed, blinking spots from her eyes.

“Aw, stand back. You’re scaring her.”

“Me? You’re the one cramming your hat on her head!”

“I had to. Her ears were red.”

“Well—”

“Daddy!” A high, piping voice rose up and the crowd parted a bit. Two tiny missiles came hurtling through, round as spring robins in their big winter coats. They flung themselves at Will and he caught them in his arms, hoisting them up as though they weighed nothing at all. He spun them around and Suzanna’s heart melted.

“You two been good?” Will set them down gently, with a kiss to their heads.

“I have,” said Ann. “Beth stole a marshmallow.”

“And now you’re telling tales,” said Will, “so that makes you even.” He turned the twins around to face Suzanna. “This is my friend I was telling you about, Suzanna from Florida. Can you say hello?”

Ann mumbled a faint greeting. Beth stared at her feet. Suzanna smiled gently—she’d been a shy kid too.

“I brought presents,” she said, and reached into her pocket. Ann perked up immediately, eyes bright and curious. Beth hid behind her, peeking over her sister’s shoulder.

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