Harlequin American Romance November 2014 Box Set: The SEAL's Holiday Babies\The Texan's Christmas\Cowboy for Hire\The Cowboy's Christmas Gift (64 page)

A grin climbed his cheek. “I don't know. When I was about eight?”

“There might be some carrots leftover from dinner yesterday,” she suggested.

“You want to go out there?”

“Come on,” she said, clicking off the monitor. “You took a cookie break. Why not take a snowman break?”

“You did say you liked building snowmen.”

They bundled up quickly, pausing to grab a scarf from the closet and a large carrot from the fridge. Outside, the snow fell lightly, as though the weather was taking a breath from the hard work of dumping white stuff for hours. Amber's nose was cherry-red and her eyes danced as Carrie and Duke joined them on the front lawn.

Together the four of them hefted the middle snowball on top of the first, and Carrie went around the “seam” between the two layers and packed in reinforcing snow. Amber started rolling the ball for the head while her dad helped her, and Duke jogged off to the brush and shrubs along the edge of the driveway. By the time the ball was done, he was back with two forked sticks. They lifted the head onto the top, packed it in tight and then Duke stuck in the branches for arms. Quinn put the nose on, Carrie used two rocks for eyes and Amber looped the scarf around the snowman's neck, reaching around the huge white mass while being held by her father's strong arms.

They stood back and admired their handiwork.

Amber leaned over and whispered something in her dad's ear.

“You should tell Duke,” Quinn nodded solemnly.

She turned her pixie face to Carrie and Duke. “We should name him Joe,” Amber said.

Carrie looked over at Duke. Did he appreciate all the reminders of his grandfather, or did he feel overshadowed by them? They all spoke of Joe as if he was the be-all and end-all. But Duke just smiled at Amber. “I think that's a great idea,” he answered.

Carrie was starting to understand that the little girl was wrapping Duke clear around her little finger.

Amber leaned over to her dad and whispered something else, and Quinn laughed.

“What now?”

Quinn didn't answer. He just put Amber down, reached for a handful of snow, quickly formed it into a ball and let it fly at Duke, hitting him square in the chest. Amber collapsed in the snow in a fit of giggles while a foolish look spread across Duke's face.

He bent and scooped up some snow and sent his snowball in Quinn's direction, but Quinn darted to the side and Duke missed. The sound of Quinn's dry laugh echoed through the yard, making Carrie smile. Cautiously, she took a few steps sideways, putting some distance between her and Duke. She wouldn't put it past him to use her as a human shield....

While Amber giggled and Quinn and Duke sent a few snowballs back and forth, Carrie stealthily made her way to a pine tree about twenty feet away. Hiding behind the trunk, she made a good half-dozen snowballs before Duke noticed she was missing.

“Hey, where'd Carrie go?”

She waited until he was looking in another direction before stepping out from behind the tree and nailing him with a snowball.

“Ow!” The snowball exploded as it connected with his shoulder.

She reached for another as the sound of Quinn's mocking laughter reached her ears, and Amber jumped up, shouting, “Get him, Carrie!”

A ball popped against the trunk of the tree—a dead hit if she hadn't moved behind the trunk again. The white circle of snow stuck to the bark, a warning that the next time she might not be so lucky. She adjusted the weight of the snowball in her hand, darted out from behind the tree on the opposite side and let another one rip. It just glanced off his leg, and he took a menacing step forward, then another. Quinn attempted a distraction by hitting Duke on the arm, but Duke was undeterred. He'd locked on to his objective and he was determined to take it.

She grabbed another ball and fired it in his direction, then grabbed the other three she'd made and dashed across the yard, looking for another position. The only cover was the snowman they'd just made, but it was huge and solid and the perfect hostage.

She ran behind it, dropped two snowballs while weighing another in her hand. “Stop right there, Duggan, or the snowman gets it!”

“No!” Amber cried out from her spot nearby. Carrie looked over at the girl and gave a broad wink to reassure her. But it had been enough for Duke to pause, and Carrie nailed him with her next snowball, immediately dropping to reach for another.

She was all teed up and ready to let another one fly when a snowball thwacked against her back. She turned to see Quinn with one eyebrow raised, his eyes twinkling. “I would have sided with you,” he said, “until you brought the snowman into it. I can't let you hurt an innocent bystander.”

“Yay, Daddy!” Amber jumped up and down. She made her own snowball, sent it in Carrie's direction. It hit the mark, surprisingly, a light poof of contact. Carrie dutifully called out, “Ouch!”

The distraction was all Duke had needed. When she spun back, he was running in her direction, charging the enemy. She couldn't get her arm back fast enough and he football-tackled her, sending her into the cushy snow.

Her breath whooshed out of her lungs and she took a deep breath in and started to laugh. “No fair!” she protested. “That was three against one!”

“All's fair in love and war,” Duke announced, pushing her shoulders down into the snow and then straddling her so she couldn't get up. “Shame on you for taking a hostage. That's playing dirty, Coulter, and now you've got to pay the price.”

Oh, God. He was sitting on her and laughing at her and his threat filled her with delicious anticipation. What was he going to do?

“You're bluffing.” She grinned up at him, taunting. “You're just a big bluffy bluffer.”

“Oh, yeah?”

And he picked up a handful of snow and proceeded to wash her face with it.

Cold snow trickled down the neck of her jacket and was icy-hot against the skin of her cheeks. She sputtered and spit out the bits that had gotten into her mouth, turning her head from side to side.

His face was close to hers as he whispered, “Bluffy bluffer, huh?”

“I'm gonna make you pay,” she promised in an undertone. “Later.”

“I'm counting on it.” His gaze met hers. There was something there, something amazing and awesome that made her heart thump against her ribs. It was more than chemistry, more than physical attraction—although they clearly had that in abundance. She liked Duke. The chip he'd had on his shoulder when he'd arrived was slowly eroding away and the man beneath it was funny, generous, warm.

No matter what happened, she was going to hold on to this time together. She felt happy. Not just content—but happy. It had been a long time since she'd had that feeling and she would enjoy it for as long as it lasted.

He slid off her and hopped up, holding out a hand. “Truce?”

She laughed, took his hand, and he pulled her to his feet. “I'm not sure how much of a truce it is. It feels more like surrender to me.”

Their gazes locked again until she heard Quinn coughing discreetly.

“Right.” She shook herself away from Duke's seductive gaze and smiled at Amber and Quinn. “Who wants hot chocolate?”

Chapter Eleven

The next two weeks passed in a blur for Duke. He learned a lot about ranching that he'd never considered before, and spent chilly days on horseback checking on fence lines, the health of the herd, the status of the feed stacks strategically placed in the pastures. He spent time with Carrie. It would have been easy to fall into a pattern of spending each night with her, but he held back. Truth was, despite all his learning and working, he still wasn't sure what he was going to do. The decision wasn't a light one. If he chose to stay here, it was a big commitment. A life commitment. He didn't want to get himself in too deep only to change his mind and leave again.

The first Saturday of December was crisp and sunny, a perfect winter's day. Duke hadn't done any holiday shopping and the only decorations he'd managed were whatever he'd found in the attic of the farmhouse—which wasn't much. There were tree decorations and some table linens, but the outdoor lights were a tangled ball of wire and bulbs, and when Duke plugged them in, nothing happened. He'd have to try each bulb to see if it worked—and the sets looked old enough he wasn't sure the problem was the bulbs anyway.

Carrie was coming across the yard, dressed in her boots and heavy jacket and warmest knitted hat. She was some woman. Smart, hardworking, strong...and yet at times the most alluring, beautiful, sexy woman he'd ever known. She kept him on his toes and then some. The fact that she didn't pressure him into making any decisions made him grateful. He was a very lucky man at this moment.

He stepped out on the bunkhouse porch. “Hey, Coulter!”

She turned her head toward him and a grin lit up her face. She changed direction and headed back his way.

“Good morning,” she offered, stamping her boots on the veranda floor. “You got coffee on? I could use a cup.”

“Of course I do. Come on in.”

He stood aside as she entered. She'd been here often enough now that she took off her coat and hung it on a hook, took off her boots and made her way right to the kitchen, grabbed herself a mug and made a beeline for the coffeemaker.

He liked having her here, and that was a little bit disturbing. He'd always had to share space or lived in cramped quarters with others. Having his own house felt like a luxury. Usually he tried to keep his space his own, but he didn't seem to mind sharing it with Carrie.

“So what's on the agenda for today?” she asked, taking her first sip.

“I thought I'd take a run into Great Falls. I need to do some Christmas shopping, and grab some lights and stuff.”

“You're decorating?”

“I'm going to try, but I'm pretty out of practice. You want to come along?”

She frowned into her cup. “Shopping? On a Saturday in December? Are you insane?”

Rats. “Hey, you did say if I needed any help...”

She gave him a nasty look.

“You must be the only woman alive who doesn't like shopping.”

She shrugged. “Hey, I like it fine. When I have a list, and I go on maybe a Tuesday morning when the crowds are smaller. Get in, get it done, get out.”

He laughed. It was his philosophy, too. And if he'd thought of it, he would have gone earlier in the week for just that reason.

“So you're going to make me go alone? I have no idea what to buy. I haven't bought Christmas decorations in years.”

“Lights. Tinsel. A wreath for the door. It's not rocket science.”

Oh, she was really putting up a fight. And he'd been prepared to go by himself. Now that she was here, and clearly not enamored of the idea of shopping, he really wanted her to go with him. “I'm a guy. I won't get the right thing.”

Her lips twitched.

“I'll throw in lunch. Come on, Carrie. Put on some good jeans, go into town with me. Misery loves company.”

She took another sip of her coffee.

“It's for the greater good. The big Duggan family Christmas, remember? Besides, I want to pick out something for Amber and I have no idea what to buy for little girls.”

Amber had them both wrapped around her finger. He could see Carrie softening, and went in for the kill. “Besides,” he added softly, “it feels like I've hardly seen you this week.”

Bingo. She let out a big sigh. “All right, you win. But I need to go home and change out of barn clothes.”

He waited while she changed, and they headed into Great Falls and the mall. It made the most sense to hit the department store so they could get everything they needed at once. Carrie held the list they'd made during the drive. This wasn't just a shopping expedition. It was a mission.

Carrie hadn't been joking. She didn't mess around. They hit the seasonal decor section first, loading up on outdoor lights, a wreath and hanger for the front door, and an absurd number of large red bows, which she insisted were necessary. He added a Christmas tree skirt he liked as well as new lights for the tree. The less he had to untangle and sort out, the better.

After that, she helped him choose presents for his mother, Lacey and Rylan, and he grabbed a new pair of heavy, warm work gloves for Quinn. For Amber, she told him that he couldn't go wrong with a stuffed animal and the cuter the better. After more deliberation than he cared to admit, he chose a soft brown bear with big black eyes and a red-and-green plaid ribbon around his neck. It was nearly as big as Amber. He put it in the cart and avoided looking at Carrie. He had a soft spot for the little girl, and he knew if he looked at Carrie, it would be written all over his face.

By the time they loaded their loot in the backseat of his truck, his stomach was growling. “Where do you want to go for lunch?” he asked.

“Wherever. I'm easy to please.”

“I'm starting to realize that.” He cranked up the heater and looked over at her. “You're very low maintenance, Carrie. Why is that?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. I've always just kept things simple, that's all.”

He thought for a few moments. From the look of her house, and the fact that her dad had left them and her mom had been so ill, he was sure part of it had to do with the fact that she couldn't afford to be high maintenance. And reading between the lines, he'd also guess that she tended to look after others rather than splurge on herself. They were wonderful qualities, ones he appreciated and respected. But it made him wonder when someone had spoiled her last. He couldn't picture it. He wondered if she even remembered what it was like to be spoiled.

He wasn't exactly rolling in cash either, but he was doing okay. He reached over across the seat and took her hand. He wanted to do something special for her. Something indulgent and nice—something that put her first.

“There's a diner just before you hit the highway,” she suggested. “It shouldn't be as busy, and the food's good. A lot of truckers stop there.”

He chuckled. “You know, I'd take you out for a nice lunch. It doesn't have to be a truck stop. The kind with cloth napkins and stuff.”

She smiled at him. “That's a nice thought. But really? I'd love a bacon cheeseburger and chocolate milkshake, and you won't find any better than at this place. It's on the way and it won't break the bank. Perfect, right?”

So money
was
an issue with her. He wondered if he was paying her enough and felt guilty for not checking before. He didn't even know what the industry standard was, for Pete's sake. He'd learned a lot, but gosh. There was still so much more. Maybe they'd all be better off if he and his siblings sold the ranch to someone who knew what they were doing.

No decisions until after Christmas,
he reminded himself.

She directed him to the diner and he parked close to the windows, making sure to lock the truck after they got out. Inside they were bombarded by a cacophony of voices, tinned holiday music, clattering silverware and the unique chinking sound of porcelain plates being stacked together. The waitresses wore jeans with a uniform T-shirt, and bustled by at warp speed. Through it all came the smell of fries and meat and gravy and coffee.

“There's a booth over there. Let's grab it before it's taken,” Carrie pointed.

He only picked up bits and pieces of what she said and bit back his frustration. She was pointing toward the back corner, so he assumed she was pointing out a table, and he nodded his agreement. They threaded their way down the aisle to the table. There were times he nearly forgot about his hearing troubles. And then there were days like today that it could be a real challenge. Once, in the store, Carrie had called to him from a different aisle. He hadn't been able to tell which direction the sound had come from.

It would be easier if he could just get a hearing aid or something. But there was nothing that could be done, and that was the most frustrating thing of all.

Their table hadn't been cleared, but the moment they sat down a woman with a blond ponytail bustled over with a plastic dishpan and a cloth and made short work of the mess. “I'll be right back with menus, okay?”

“And this isn't busy?” Duke asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You go to one of those chain restaurants in town and you'll wait a half hour for a table on a day like today. Trust me. The service here is fast.”

Clearly, because menus were in their hands in the next moment, and it wasn't five minutes later and the waitress was back for their orders.

“Not much wonder we were hungry,” Duke said, looking down at his watch. “It's after one o'clock.”

“Considering how much you got done, that's good time.”

“I had a good planner. Not only did you make the list, but you had a strategic plan for navigating the store. You'd have been a good soldier.”

“High praise.” She leaned back against the cushion of the booth. “So when are you planning to do all this decorating?”

“Tomorrow?” He frowned. “I wanted to do it today, but by the time we get back, it'll be midafternoon. Not a lot of daylight left.”

“I could help you tomorrow. Maybe this afternoon you can wrap your gifts.”

He smacked his head. “Wrapping paper! That's what I forgot.”
What an idiot.

“I'll cover you. I bought some during the after-Christmas sales last year. I don't have many to wrap, so there's more than enough paper for you, too.”

Their food came, so Duke didn't have to reply. But her last words made him think. He'd enjoyed picking out presents today, for his family and his new friends. Carrie had no family...at least none that he knew of.

“So,” he said, trying to be super casual, “what about the rest of your family? Do you have any aunts and uncles in the picture? Grandparents?”

She shrugged. “My uncle on my mom's side lives in California with his family. We didn't see him much over the years. Now it's more like a Christmas card in the mail. I have an aunt on my dad's side, but she's in Washington, working for a congressman or something. Dad's parents are gone and my mom's...” She picked up her milkshake glass and took a long sip. “Mom's parents keep in touch, but they moved to Phoenix and a nicer climate. They're getting older and don't like to travel often.”

“Would you like to see them?”

Her gaze met his. Sometimes she could be hard to read, as if she pulled down the shades when the topic got too personal. “I miss them,” she said simply. “They were around a lot when I was little. They came back to help out a few times when Mom was sick, but it was hard for them. I went out once right after she died, just to get away for a few days. But honestly?” She sighed. “I don't really have the money to take the time off work and pay for the trip.”

In that moment Duke knew what he was going to get Carrie for Christmas.

“How's your burger?” he asked, his mind whirring.

“Delicious. Thank you for lunch, Duke.”

“Thanks for coming with me today. It was fun.” He grinned at her. “So listen. Why don't we stop by your place, grab some of your Christmas stuff and take it all back to my place? We can put in a frozen pizza for a late dinner, have a few beers, watch a movie.”

She put down her burger and wiped her fingers on her napkin. “That sounds really nice.”

But he detected hesitance in her voice. “Is something wrong?” He put down his fork and leaned forward a bit. “Is this... Our arrangement... Hell,” he stammered. “That sounds so bad. What I mean to say is, have things changed for you?”

She glanced up. “No, Duke, they haven't. They haven't changed at all.”

So why did she sound so guarded? And why was he getting a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach?

“Good,” he answered, picking up his fork again and scooping up some coleslaw. “Because I heard a rumor that
Christmas Vacation
is on TV tonight.” A little dose of comedy and pizza might be just what they both needed.

The topic switched to Crooked Valley and ranch business, but Duke couldn't escape the strange feeling he'd gotten when he'd asked her to stay over.

* * *

A
S
C
ARRIE
STARED
up at the wraparound porch of the big house, the tune to “It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” ran through her head. Duke had used a ladder to put the multicolored lights on the eaves, and she'd hung the huge evergreen wreath on the door. The snowman had melted a bit and tipped slightly sideways, looking as if he'd had one too many at the local bar, but still managed to hang on to being upright. Better than that, they'd taken one of the quads to the spruce grove and cut a huge pile of boughs. Then they'd used black twist ties to secure them to the railings on the porch and steps, and Carrie had adorned them with the red bows they'd bought yesterday.

The past twenty-four hours had felt very strange, and yet very right. At times it had almost seemed as though they were a real couple, decorating their place for Christmas. It had felt so...normal.