Free A Fortune's Children's Christmas by Barbara Boswell, Lisa Jackson, Linda Turner

turn-around time. He spent hours huddled over the books until, sometime after one o’clock, Rambo whined to go outside.
    Rubbing the back of his neck, Chase opened the door. Rambo wandered across the snow-covered backyard, disappeared around the corner, then in less than a minute reappeared, nose to the ground, as if he could scare up a rabbit or pheasant at this late hour. “Give it up, boy,” Chase advised. Cold air slapped his faceand ripped through his sweatshirt, but it helped clear his head of the numbers he’d been crunching.
    With a disappointed snort, Rambo scrambled into the warmth of the house again. Chase shut the door and walked to the table. Despite all his efforts to find an answer, there was one dilemma that wasn’t about to go away—no matter how he tackled it. Walking to the table, he looked over his projected profit-and-loss statement for the dozenth time. It just wasn’t possible. “Hell.” He wadded up the paper in frustration, because no matter how he adjusted the figures, when it came to productivity, he had a problem. A serious one. If he really wanted to ensure that the ranch would become profitable in the next year, that he would be able to fulfill his part of the deal with Kate and end up owning these barren acres, he couldn’t sell water rights to anyone. Including Lesley Bastian.

Six
    “I don’t get it. I just don’t get it.” Jeff Nelson leaned back in his chair and tossed his hair from his eyes. At seventeen he was more interested in girls and basketball than algebra.
    “You’re doing fine. Just keep working at it,” Lesley said as she corrected his homework. Jeff was one of seven students she tutored in high-school-level math. It brought in a little extra money, and she wouldn’t have to think about a second job. She could stay at home with Angela.
    “Algebra’s impossible.” He scooped up his book and stretched as he got out of his chair. At six foot four, he was still growing.
    “Don’t get discouraged.”
    He snorted. “I’m way past discouraged,” he said, then flashed her his killer smile. As they walked out of the den, Lesley peeked in on Angela, who was sleeping soundly, her thumb tucked between her tiny lips.
    “I’ll see you on Tuesday,” Lesley said once they were down in the kitchen, and she marked her calendar, noticing that today was Valentine’s Day. Her first Valentine’s Day alone in a long time. Not that it mattered, she supposed. As Jeff ambled out the backdoor she remembered last Valentine’s Day and the single rose Aaron had bought from a roadside vendor. She’d been touched, until she’d found his credit card bills a month after he’d died and seen a bill for an expensive bouquet that went through on the fourteenth of February.
    “Live and learn,” she told herself as she wiped some crumbs from the table and wondered what Chase was doing. She’d seen more of him than she’d expected in the past month. He seemed to feel that she was somehow his responsibility, which was ridiculous.
    But, if she was honest with herself, she’d have to admit that she didn’t mind the attention. Not one little bit. Just as long as he didn’t push her around too much.
    He made sure her livestock was cared for, that her Jeep, after it had been pulled from the ditch and repaired, was safe, and that she made it to her doctor’s appointments on time.
    However, he kept his distance and didn’t get closer to her, avoided touching her, and he smiled rarely. He’d come in for coffee a couple of times, but whenever she’d asked him to come to dinner or join her for an outing, he had quickly declined.
    “Oh, well, nothing ventured, nothing gained,” she told herself as she picked up the receiver and dialed his number. The phone rang eight times and no one answered, which wasn’t much of a surprise as the man was out of the house more than he was inside and he had some antiquated aversion to answering machines.“Get into the nineties, Fortune, before