Free The Cowboy’s Christmas Baby by Carolyn Brown

married
     and ranchin’ with Daddy. Shawn just got married last week.”
    “I remember you telling me that. How was the wedding?”
    She cracked eggs in the bowl, added a splash of milk, then salt and pepper. “Beautiful.
     His bride comes from the next cotton farm up the road. She had a Christmas wedding
     even though it’s still a month away.”
    Jack rounded the doorjamb and zeroed in on the coffeepot. He poured a cup, took several
     sips, and then sat down at the end of the table close to the baby’s swing.
    “Good mornin’, sunshine! Did you sleep well last night or did you keep your pretty
     mommy up? Did you know that today me and your Uncle Grady are going to bring the Christmas
     tree in out of the barn and set it up? You’ll love the lights, I betcha. And if you
     could reach those shiny ornaments, you’d be trying to put them in your mouth.”
    Joshua cooed and waved his hands around.
    “Yes, sir, with those very hands. It won’t be long until your hands will be big enough
     to hang on to a pony’s reins. By then you won’t care as much about Christmas tree
     stuff.”
    “You’re putting up a tree today?” Natalie asked.
    “We usually get it out of the box the day after Thanksgiving, but Hazel said we had
     to wait until Lucas got home. We’re already a week late and this blasted weather is
     keeping us from doing much else, so this is the day.”
    Lucas had never shared the ritual of putting up the tree with anyone but his dad,
     Grady, and Hazel.
    “But,” he started.
    Jack held up a palm and shot a look that said enough across the table. “Can’t have a party without a tree, can we?”
    A rooster crowed and something hit the kitchen window. Lucas looked up just in time
     to see the rooster try to light on the casing, fail, and flop back to the ground.
    “What the hell?” Lucas headed for the door. “Did you leave the hen house door open,
     Natalie?”
    She popped both hands on her hips. “I’m a ranchin’ woman. I double-check things like
     that.”
    He opened the door and more than a dozen big Rhode Island Red hens flocked into the
     house. He slammed the door shut, but not before the three puppies rushed inside with
     the rooster right behind them, squawking when he left a few tail feathers behind.
    “Holy shit!” Henry yelled. “What did you do, Lucas?”
    Chickens were everywhere. Puppies chased them, biting at their tails and spitting
     feathers out in their wake. Grady and Jack jumped up and chased the dogs, but they
     were wet from the snow and no one could get a grip on the slick little devils. Men,
     chickens, and dogs all in a blur with Natalie trying to get to Joshua before a stupid
     chicken flew at him and hurt her baby.
    The rooster flew over everyone and roosted right there on top of Joshua’s swing, like
     the king of the mountain daring the puppies to try to get him. He fluffed up his feathers,
     threw back his head, and crowed in his loudest voice. One hen followed his lead, settled
     down in Joshua’s lap, wiggled around until she was comfortable, tucked her head under
     her wing, and shut her eyes.
    Lucas was closer to the swing than Natalie, so he rushed over to get the dumb chicken
     out of Josh’s lap. If that critter pecked at his little chubby cheeks or worse yet,
     at his eyeball, Natalie would shoot first and ask questions later, and she’d be aiming
     at Lucas Allen’s heart.
    He grabbed the hen and Natalie grabbed Josh at the same time. A freshly laid egg rolled
     out of the baby’s lap and splattered on the floor between them. Three puppies ran
     over to lick up the mess and Grady picked up two while Jack got hold of the other
     one.
    “We’ll get them out, and by damn, I’ll fix that pen myself,” Jack said.
    “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Lucas asked.
    “It means that I bet they don’t get out again. Shoo them damn chickens out of the
     house. Must be this storm that’s got them all crazy. Never knew chickens to do that,”