Free Broken Creek (The Creek #1) by Abbie St. Claire

presented it with shaking hands, and when he opened the golf balls, he laughed, but loved them.
    We sat on the floor by the fire and talked for a while before he finally got around to asking me when I was leaving. I told him I would be gone by the next weekend if all went according to plan. I saw sadness creep into the deep lines on his frowning face.
    “Spend New Year’s with me then. Just old friends and good times.”
    “Is there a big group getting together?”
    “Probably, but I’m talking about just you and me. A celebration of our new lives and new friendship.”
    I pondered his offer for a few moments. Saying yes could lead him on, saying no would hurt him.
    “Yes, to old friends.”
    He left without so much as touching me, but his smile implied he was hopeful. Once again, I found myself in turmoil. My heart aching from getting too close to the barbed wire surrounding it.

    Christmas morning was light and cheerful because we had much to celebrate that couldn’t be wrapped in a package. Mom gave me the InStyler hair curling iron thingy I’d been wanting. I couldn’t wait to try it out after my shower.
    When she pulled the tissue out of the sack and saw the box with the laptop, she squealed. “You know you’ll have to show me how to use it, don’t you?”
    “It’s the same as the computer at work. But yes, we can go up there, and I’ll get it synced to their Wi-Fi for you.”
    We let ourselves in to the closed diner and hooked the netbook up to Wi-Fi. She played around on it, and I showed her how to do things like photos and stuff. Then the challenge came to showing her how to Skype, but after a couple of hours, she got the hang of all of it. We had everything set up with her email address and Facebook and the whole works. I was happy because it would grow her mind and give her something to do, instead of just withering away and sleeping in the recliner.
    It was dark and dreary cold by the time we got back home. I built a fire, and Mom handed me a fresh plate of cookies from dough she’d made earlier.
    True, I loved her cookies, but I was happy eating cookie dough. She always laughed when she baked them, saying “The recipe says it makes four dozen, but I only get about half that. I wonder why?”
    My phone chimed with a text.
    Karina : Merry Christmas dollface
    Me: Merry Christmas to you too. How’s it going?
    Karina : Miserably. Ready to be back at school
    Me: Me too
    I missed her. With all the happenings, I hadn’t thought about her or school much. I also hadn’t focused on A.D. either. Then it hit me. I didn’t recall seeing the paper with his number on it. I ran outside to my car and searched all the papers on the floorboard. The one with his number on it was not there. I turned everything upside down looking for it. I ran inside to my room and dumped my purse on my bed.
    Nothing.
    My heart sank. The excitement of returning to Denton vanished like the wind that had carried his number away. It was all I could do to keep from having a major meltdown, and I remembered what my grandmother used to say, “In the end, it always works out the way it’s supposed to.”

    Monday, the bank called and set up the closing of the land sale for the next day. Funny how fast processes move when there’s money to gain. Everything was going to happen as planned, and it was all good. Justin made arrangements to start bringing cattle on Wednesday and would move in the following weekend.
    Wednesday night arrived, and I couldn’t decide what to wear on my friend date with Stephan, so I decided to wear the sweatshirt he’d given me for Christmas. When he arrived, he was wearing dark dress slacks, a white designer shirt, and a leather jacket—he smelled sinfully sexy, sans cigarettes.
    My jaw dropped. “You didn’t say this was dress up.” My eyes drifted up and down my chosen outfit, completely out of place.
    “You didn’t ask.” He could always be counted as a smart ass, but his wink was soothing.
    “Where