Free A Cowboy for Christmas by Lori Wilde Page A

killed, Jake had disobeyed a direct order and gone back to save orphans in jeopardy. She was so fiercely proud of him for that. His last act had been completely unselfish, but she was furious at the government for calling Jake’s supreme heroism willful misconduct and by that designation, denying Lissy and Kyle survivor benefits.
    Now there was something terribly wrong with her grandson. Was this delayed retribution for her despicable actions? Was this life extracting a cruel payback?
    â€œPlease,” she prayed, even though she was no longer certain God listened. So many of her prayers had gone unanswered. “Please, let Kyle be okay. It’s not his fault. None of it. Don’t take things out on him.”
    â€œClaudia?”
    She jerked her head up, swiped uselessly at the tears rolling down her cheeks with the rain-covered sleeve of her slicker.
    Her next-door neighbor, Stewart English, had pushed open her backyard gate and stood there, umbrella in hand, wearing faded blue jeans, battered old cowboy boots, and a long-sleeved navy blue T-shirt identifying him as a member of the Jubilee Fire Department. His wife, Linda, had died the year before. Cancer. They’d been married thirty-four years. Had three kids. Claudia and Linda had been best friends.
    â€œStewart.” She forced a smile. “How are you?”
    â€œIt’s raining. You’re gardening in the rain.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œI brought you some bread.” He held up the loaf of bread wrapped in a plastic bag. “Made it myself in the bread maker that Ben’s wife bought me for Father’s Day. First time I hauled it out of the box. It’s pretty good. I made two loaves.”
    Claudia got to her feet, stripped off her gardening gloves. “That was sweet of you.”
    The yeasty smell of fresh, hot bread drifted across the yard toward her in spite of the scent-dampening rain.
    â€œBrought butter I churned myself.”
    â€œYou churned it yourself? Now that is quaint.”
    Stewart wore a ball cap embossed with the same emblem that decorated the pocket of his T-shirt. He was bald underneath the cap. He was one of those guys that once his hair started falling out, he’d taken the shears to his whole head, simply going with it instead of fighting nature. Up until the day he died at forty-nine, Gordon had had a full head of brownish-blond hair.
    â€œGemma’s on this back-to-nature kick,” Stewart explained, speaking about his oldest daughter. “She’s bought her own Jersey milk cow. Gives me all this fresh milk. Far more than I can drink. I had to do something with it. Gotta tell you, it’s the best butter you’ll ever taste. Warning, it’s addictive.”
    To keep her figure, Claudia had given up excess carbohydrates a long time ago, but the bread did smell good and she’d lost twenty-five pounds since Jake died. Why not indulge? It might take her mind off the fact that Lissy hadn’t called. “Would you like to come in?” She inclined her head toward her back door.
    â€œNah, can’t. Hope’s got me hooked up on some blind date.” Hope was Stewart’s youngest child. “I’m not interested in dating, but you know kids.”
    She nodded. “The things we do to please them.”
    Stewart’s eyes met hers. “You’ve been crying.”
    â€œWho me?” Claudia forced a laugh. “No, no. It’s those winter onions I’ve been grubbing out of the ground.”
    Stewart screwed up his mouth in an expression that said he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t say anything.
    â€œSo,” she said, as the rain dripped steadily onto his umbrella. “Who’s the blind date with?”
    â€œPiano teacher,” he said. “From Twilight. She gives lessons to Hope’s kids.”
    The neighboring town of Twilight lay thirty miles southwest of Jubilee, and the two communities had a natural