Free Dangerous Men (Flynn Family Saga Book 2) by Erica Graham

sighed. 
“Maggie, I’m sorry you had to go through all this again.”
    Maggie shrugged.
    Flynn raised one eyebrow.  “How are
the nightmares?”
    Maggie looked away.
    “I thought so.”
    Kate came in.  She looked thin and
pale, but she managed a smile for him.  “Hello, Flynn.”
    “Hello, Mrs. Hamilton.”  He stood
up and removed his hat.  “Maggie just told me what happened.  I’m sorry.”
    Kate nodded stiffly.  “Maggie, I
need help with the potatoes.”
    Maggie nodded.  She picked up the
paring knife.
    “I’ll make the coffee.”  Flynn
stood up and took the large coffee pot down from its shelf.
    Kate smiled wanly at him.  The
three of them worked in silence while the fire popped and crackled.
    Christmas dinner was subdued. 
Frank was the only one who talked, and he talked too much, trying to fill up
the silence.
    “Shut up, Frank.”  Sam swatted his
arm.
    Frank bristled.  “I’m just trying
to make conversation.”
    “Well, stop trying.”
    Frank scowled, but he said nothing.
    After dinner, Maggie ran up the
stairs to her room.  Flynn followed her.  She tried to carry a bundle of
papers, rolled and tied with red ribbons.  She turned, saw him and dropped
them.  She put her hands on her hips.  “You’ve got to stop—”
    “Sneaking up on people.”  Flynn
grinned.  “Can I help you with those?”
    Maggie shook her head.  She
gathered them in her arms and practically ran from the room.
    Laughing, Flynn followed her.  They
went into the parlor, and Flynn placed her present under the tree.  Maggie
dropped the rolls of paper again.  This time, he helped her pick them up and
put them under the tree.
    One by one, Sam handed out the
gifts.  There was a book for Kate, a primer for Frank and a compass for Flynn. 
Sam handed Maggie her gift last.  She opened it carefully, smoothing out the
paper.  It was a new bridle for Patches.  “To go with that fancy saddle of
yours,” he said gruffly.
    Tears filled Maggie’s eyes.  She
touched the smooth leather reverently.  She threw her arms around Sam’s neck
and hugged him.  “Thank you, Papa,” she whispered.  She drew a deep breath and
wiped her eyes.  She picked up a package and handed it to Sam.  Sam unwrapped
it slowly.  He held out a red woolen scarf.  “Maggie, did you make this?”
    Maggie blushed and nodded.  “Mrs.
Evans taught me how to knit when I was sick.”
    Sam smiled at her and squeezed her
shoulder.
    Maggie handed Frank his gift.  It
was a large, oddly shaped package.  Frank shook it before he opened it.  There
was a muffled clank.  His bushy eyebrows rose.  He unwrapped it cautiously, as
if afraid it might explode.  Then, he laughed and held up a coffee pot.
    Maggie grinned at him.
    Flynn knelt beside the pile of
gifts and picked up his gift for her.  As he handed it to her, he felt as shy
as if he were sixteen.
    Maggie opened it slowly.  The
package held a pair of tortoise shell combs, inlaid with mother-of-pearl. 
She gasped.  “Flynn, they’re beautiful!”
    “They were my mother’s,” he said
hoarsely.  A dozen emotions scrabbled around in his chest, like possums trying
to wriggle out of a sack.
    Maggie touched the combs
reverently.  “Thank you.”  She set them down carefully.  Then, she picked one
of the rolls of paper and handed it to him.
    “What is it?  Poetry?”  He grinned
at her.
    Maggie smiled smugly and shook her
head.
    Flynn untied the ribbon and
unrolled the paper.  Inside was an exact copy of one of Alexander Ridgeton’s
maps.  His looked at Maggie.  “Did you make these?”
    Maggie nodded shyly.
    He stared at her.  “Thank you. 
I—thank you.”
    Maggie looked away.
    When the last present had been
opened, Kate sat down at her spinet and started to play.  Maggie stood behind
her and sang.  “O Little Town of Bethlehem...”
    Flynn stood next to her, so close
she could feel his warmth.  “How still we see thee lie.”  His voice was deep
and rich,