Free Yuletide Cowboy by Debra Clopton Page A

from the truck and hesitated before striding to the porch. He’d come for a reason, not an excuse. Not because he hadn’t been able to get her off his mind.
    The boards creaked as he stepped on them and one—no, several—he noticed at closer inspection were in need of replacement. He knocked on the door and waited. When there was no answer after a couple of minutes heknocked again. Lynn’s car was parked at the edge of the house in the metal carport so she had to be home.
    It was likely that she’d peeked out the window, had seen him and decided not to open the door.
    He hoped not though. On the other hand, he couldn’t blame her if she did exactly that after everything that had transpired last night.
    In the short time he’d been home the weather had gone from the forties to today’s seventy degrees. It was a beautiful balmy December day in Texas—they were having a snowstorm up north and Texas was having a breezy summer day in the middle of the winter. It was one of those perks of living in the Lone Star State. He rapped his knuckles on the door one last time before heading back to his truck, more disappointed than he wanted to admit.
    Laughter coming from behind the house called for a detour.
    Careful to watch for running twins, he strode around the corner and spotted Lynn and both boys hard at work on what appeared to be the beginnings of a tree house. But the only indication it was a tree house was the fact that a tree was involved.
    Their backs were to him, huddled together studying their handiwork. Lynn said something and the boys laughed.
    A ball of unease settled in his gut. What was he doing?
    The Catahoula was sprawled on its back off to the side enjoying the sunlight. He must have caught Chance’s scent on the wind because he suddenly sprang to his feet, belted out a war cry and charged his way. Uh-uh. Nothappening again. Chance braced himself, stared at the dog and commanded, “No.”
    Instantly Tiny dropped to his haunches and stared at him like a tiny puppy being scolded. His wide head cocked and his eyes pleaded an explanation but he sat still.
    â€œChance!” Gavin exclaimed first. Without waiting the boy raced toward him and grabbed him around the knees. “I told Momma you’d come help us.”
    â€œHi, Gavin. What kind of help do you need?” The zealous greeting took Chance by surprise.
    Jack was right on his brother’s heels. “With the tree house,” he exclaimed, latching on to his other leg. De spite the frown on Lynn’s face there was no way Chance couldn’t smile.
    â€œSo you’re building that tree house. Sounds like fun!”
    Without hesitation they each grabbed a hand, tugging him forward, chattering all the way. Tiny pounded about them in a circle barking excitedly. Chance had trouble following what they were saying: They were building a tree house, they found wood in the old barn, Gavin wanted to climb the ladder but his momma wouldn’t let him, Jack couldn’t hit a nail for nothin’! Chance laughed at that one.
    It was amazing how much information poured out of them in the twenty feet between the house and the tree.
    â€œGood morning,” he said to Lynn. “It looks like you could use a little help.” She might not want it but it was glaringly apparent that Lynn needed help with this project. Once again he felt bad for her—caught in a situationshe didn’t want and all because of him. She’d been nailing a board to a tree limb—he assumed this was going to be the floor of the tree house. He eyed it, not wanting to be critical, but he was really glad, for safety reasons, that the thing was only about five feet off the ground. Lynn was standing on a lightweight fiberglass ladder that she’d leaned against the limb. He didn’t want to tell her that her structure wasn’t going to be very safe.
    â€œHi,” she said, climbing from the ladder. Her hair