Free A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree by Janet Dailey

even harder. A clump of stuffing came out. Love was tough on everyone.
    He nodded to Douglas, who was pulling out schoolbooks from underneath the coffee table. “Have a good night, everyone.”
    He exchanged good-byes with Maureen, stopping on the mat outside it for a moment when she closed the door. He reached in his pocket for the gloves he’d stuffed on top of the thin caps he’d bought, holding onto the gloves when a cap fell out. Just like the vendor had said when he’d bought ’em: one to wear, one to lose. Sam bent to retrieve it, then put on his gloves.
    “Did you get either of those jobs, Mom?” he heard Douglas ask through the door.
    “No,” she answered. “They needed a person who could work nights and I can’t, not with you and Amanda. But I’ll find something. Don’t worry. ”
    Sam held the cap in one hand, not bothering to put it back on. It was only a short walk to the lot once he was outside. He headed for the stairs, looking thoughtful.
    He was back in the trailer before he realized he’d forgotten the take-out order he’d stuck inside the broken railing. Sam settled for a pop-top can of ravioli, served cold.

Chapter 5
    N icole was curled up on the love seat in front of the window of her studio apartment, looking out. She was barely aware that icy raindrops were chasing each other down the glass.
    What an incredible distraction Sam Bennett was turning out to be—and right when she was busiest. She made more money in December than in the other eleven months of the year combined.
    Which worked out okay when prices weren’t so high. She was going to have to scramble to get some decent freelance gigs come January. Creating displays covered up with big red signs saying EVERYTHING MUST GO was a little depressing.
    It was a good thing that Sam was only in New York for one month, and working as hard as she was. Although completing the first of the two boutique windows with him had been an experience.
    He knew how to get close without ever touching her. But after a while, his presence had rattled her—especially the way he combined strength and skill. That had never been a concern with the guys on her crew, who were actually more experienced carpenters but were awkward or unattractive or both.
    And by the time they’d gone outside to inspect the finished window—and she caught that look in his eyes when she turned around to discuss it—for just a second, she’d thought he was going to kiss her.
    Sam had just stood there. Whatever she’d seen in his eyes had vanished. Or she’d imagined it.
    Nicole pulled a pillow into her arms and hugged it, watching open umbrellas, bright circles of color from her vantage point, moving up and down the street.
    Someone dodged the umbrellas and dashed through the rain to go up the stairs to her building, moving too quickly for her to see anything more.
    That was it for excitement today.
    She picked up her bills for this and that, and leafed through them for something to do. No matter how hard she worked, she never had enough to pay everything all at once. Her good old hometown was getting incredibly expensive to live in. The rent for her little place was going up. Much as she loved New York and Manhattan in particular, the hassle of living there sometimes didn’t seem worth it.
    An ear-shattering scraping sound rose from the street. Nicole looked out the window again. Two trucks had jammed together in the street and the drivers were screaming at each other, disputing the width of the street and disparaging each other’s ability to eyeball the space they’d misjudged. Only they weren’t using words like “dispute” and “disparage.”
    A cop came along and joined in, threatening loudly to arrest them both and impound the trucks. The stopped cars caught behind the jam began to honk.
    It was a real New York symphony. She was getting tired of that too. Fairly quickly, the cop got everyone sorted out and the trucks went on their way.
    Several minutes later