by Jodi Thomas
A small-town Texas Christmas story, where hearts are lost, love is found and family always brings you back home
Griffin Holloway is desperate: the Maverick Ranch has been in his family for generations, but lately, it’s a money pit. He’d sooner marry one of his horses than sell the ranch. Marriage, though, could be a solution. If he can woo a wealthy bride, he might save the ranch—just in time for Christmas.
Jaxon O’Grady likes his solitude just fine, thank you very much. But when a car accident brings the unexpected to his door, he realizes just how much one person can need another.
Crossroads is the perfect place for Jamie Johnson: avoiding nosy questions about why she’s single, she’s happy to keep to her lakeside home. So she’s baffled when she gets the strangest Christmas present of all, in the form of a Mr. Johnson, asleep on her sofa. Who is he, and why does everyone think he’s her husband?
In this uplifting novel, three unlikely couples discover just what Crossroads, Texas, can offer: romance, belonging and plenty of Christmas spirit.
Praise for New York Times bestselling author
Jodi Thomas
“Compelling and beautifully written.”
—Debbie Macomber, #1 New York Times bestselling author, on Ransom Canyon
“You can count on Jodi Thomas to give you a satisfying and memorable read.”
—Catherine Anderson, New York Times bestselling author
“Highly recommended.”
—Library Journal, starred review, on Sunrise Crossing
“[Sunrise Crossing] will warm any reader’s heart.”
—Publishers Weekly, A Best Book of 2016
“This is a novel that settles in the reader’s heart from the beginning to its satisfying end.”
—RT Book Reviews on Mornings on Main, 4 1/2 stars, Top Pick!
“This tale will grab readers, who will fall in love with the main characters and be just as enamored of the others.”
—Library Journal, starred review, on Lone Heart Pass
“Thomas is a wonderful storyteller.”
—RT Book Reviews on Rustler’s Moon
“A fast pace and a truly delightful twist at the end.”
—RT Book Reviews on Sunrise Crossing
“A pure joy to read.”
—RT Book Reviews on the Ransom Canyon series
“Western romance legend Thomas’s Ransom Canyon will warm readers with its huge heart and gentle souls.”
—Library Journal
Also available from
Jodi Thomas
and HQN Books
Mornings on Main
Ransom Canyon Series
Ransom Canyon
Rustler’s Moon
Lone Heart Pass
Sunrise Crossing
Wild Horse Springs
Winter’s Camp (ebook novella)
A Christmas Affair (ebook novella)
JODI THOMAS
MISTLETOE
MIRACLES
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Excerpt from Mornings on Main by Jodi Thomas
CHAPTER ONE
Maverick Ranch, Texas
Griffin’s Problem
LOOKING AT HIS two brothers was like staring at one of those paintings with hidden figures masked in the folds of dots. There had to be depth in them, something that made sense, but damned if he could find it.
Griffin Holloway considered his own faults. Well, his one fault, really. That’s all he’d allowed himself in this lifetime. Some people might consider being born Texan a flaw, but he loved his state and this land that generations of Holloways had been born to.
He cussed, though. Far more than allowed, he figured. His mother had washed out his mouth so many times when he was a kid that he’d grown to like the taste of Ivory soap.
But his two younger brothers were not nearly as disciplined. If they had to carry all their shortcomings in a sack, they’d both be permanently bent over.
Holloway men might all top six feet and they were reasonably good-looking, but Griffin wasn’t sure any, including him, could claim to be long on brains.
Cooper, the youngest at twenty-three, was lanky and limber as a bungee cord. He thought the ranch was his private playground. Hell, he should’ve been born free like a coyote or a hawk. As a kid, he hadn’t bothered to wear clothes unless their mother made him when she was expecting company.
He was so wild, she swore if he’d been able to grow fur, she could have sold him to the circus. Griffin wasn’t sure, even today, that his little brother wasn’t more critter than human.
Growing up hadn’t changed him much.
Right now, Cooper was standing, covered in mud, in the headquarters’ great room, and it wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning. He didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the weekly family business discussion, but that was nothing new. He obviously wanted to get the talking over with and head out to roam the land—fishing, hunting, exploring for Aztec gold—doing anything but work.
Elliot, the middle brother, tried to look like he was following Griffin’s weekly lecture about how broke the ranch would be by Christmas. At least Elliot did his share of the work and had since the day he’d come home from college to help run the place. But Elliot’s heart wasn’t in ranching, never had been. He spent ten hours on his computer for every one he spent on a horse. He made Griffin think of a bit actor who’d accidentally stumbled onto the wrong set.
Facing them both, Griffin cleared his throat and got straight to the point. “We have a problem with a simple solution. I’m thinking we’ve tried everything else and now it’s down to only one answer.”
They both looked clueless. Elliot started texting and Cooper scratched his brown hair, dry and dirty as a tumbleweed.
I’m adopted, Griffin thought. It’s the only explanation. Or they are. He’d been around when his mother went to the hospital to deliver them both, but he hadn’t actually seen the births. He’d been eight when Elliot was born and eleven for Cooper. He could have handled watching. After all, he’d seen his dad pull dozens of calves by then. Even helped with some. How much different
could it be?
Cooper frowned. “What’s so important, Griff? I got thirty head lost out in Mistletoe Canyon. They need to be found and herded to the north pasture before it gets too late for me to get some fishing in.”
Elliot nodded. “I got calls to make. The market’s down and what little cash we had in reserve seems to be evaporating.”
“All right.” Griffin straightened, facing his problem head-on. “It’s simple. The ranch is broke. We’ve got two months to come up with the loan payment and all I see is money going out.”
“We’re always broke.” Elliot shrugged. “We’ll find a way to pay the loan come January. We always do. Sell cattle or gravel, or lease a few sections out for winter wheat crops.”
Closing his eyes, Griffin ran through the long list of things they’d tried before. A few, like leasing land for grazing or farming, had helped get them through last winter. But others, like the expensive barn his father had once built to board racehorses that never came around or Cooper’s plan to raise miniature horses to sell to city folks, hadn’t paid off.
Griffin frowned, knowing he was out of ideas. “There is no easy answer this time. Selling gravel or leasing wouldn’t be enough. Selling off our best breeding stock will only hurt us next spring. I see only one way out of the mess we’re in. One of us has got to get married.”
Glaring at Cooper, Griffin clarified, “And I’m not talking about someone like the new waitress at Dorothy’s Café. One of us has to find a woman with money or land we can borrow on. I’m not particular as to which. We need fresh blood flowing into the Maverick Ranch.”
Cooper grinned. “Dang, Griff, you sound like we’re vampires. I don’t want to marry some girl for her money.”
Griffin realized how callous he sounded. “Of course we’d love her, treat her right and all that. It’s just time one of us got married, and her being rich wouldn’t hurt.”
Elliot looked up from his cell. “I was engaged during my freshman year of college to Bella Brantley, remember? Her family owned a few blocks in downtown Dallas. But then Dad died and within six months I had to quit school and come home.” He glowered at Cooper. “She broke off the engagement after a weekend visit here. I blame him for that. One look at little brother and she didn’t want anything to do with our gene pool.”
“I wasn’t the reason. I was only a kid. That woman was a plague of problems.” Cooper puffed up like a horned toad. “I just took her for a ride across the place. It wasn’t my fault she kept falling off the horse. Then she got all crazy when I offered to rub liniment on her backside. Like I wasn’t being considerate or something. And that accidental bumping together in the hallway was her fault, not mine.”
Old anger fired in Elliot’s eyes.
Griffin stepped between them before a fight broke out, again. “I’m serious and I have a plan. Come hell or high water, one of us is walking a wealthy girl down the aisle before Christmas. We’re land rich and cash poor, and I see only one way to end that. Two months should be enough time to find a woman, date her, propose and get married. Way I see it we won’t take any of her land or money. That wouldn’t be right. We’ll just borrow against her land to make the payment. Next spring we’ll make it back and pay her back.”
“That’s what you always say,” Cooper groaned. “We’re always living off next year’s money.”
“We could sell off a few sections,” Elliot suggested.
Both brothers stared at him so hard he took a step backward. Never selling land, any amount, had been drilled into them like it was the eleventh commandment Moses forgot to write down.
“I’ll be long buried in Holloway dirt before I sell a square foot. It’s part of me. I might as well cut off a leg or an arm.” Griffin’s hands molded into fists.
“We get it, Griff. We feel the same. It was just an option.”
Griffin nodded once.
Elliot tried again. “You’re the oldest, Griff. You go first. At thirty-four, you’re about to go from ripe to rotten anyway.”
“But you’re the best-looking one, Elliot. Remember those tourists who stopped us in town and wanted to take your picture? Perfect profile of a cowboy, they claimed. Put the word out that you’re available and women will come from all over the state. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bella Brantley didn’t come back. Last I heard she’s still single. Maybe she just planned a long engagement?”
Elliot shook his head. “We broke up seven years ago, and she’s not exactly single. She might be between husband numbers three and four for all I know.”
“What about me?” Cooper jumped in. “I’m the youngest. Women like men who are still young and wild.”
They both looked in his direction, but Elliot spoke first. “Good idea. There’s a kind of woman who’s attracted to stray dogs. Cooper might have a chance. We could advertise him as a makeover project. Flipping houses is popular. Maybe someone could flip Cooper.”
“We’ll talk about it at supper. Right now, we’re wasting daylight.” Griffin ended the meeting. “Just think about it and come up with some ideas by tonight.”
Neither of his brothers looked challenged. Griffin had a feeling he’d be doing all the thinking, all the work, all the sacrifice.
Shoving on his battered hat, Cooper headed outside.
Elliot turned toward the huge study where each brother had a desk, but Elliot was the only one who ever used his.
Griffin passed through the kitchen, smiling. He’d introduced his plan. At least that was a start. Step one.
Next step: make a list of possibilities, and he knew exactly who to ask for help. The Franklin sisters. The two old ladies might never have married, but they knew every eligible woman in the county. All he’d have to do was line up the ladies and parade them by. The Holloway men might be a little rough around the edges, but their ranch was one of the oldest in West Texas.
“It’ll never work,” whispered a voice, scratchy with age, from across the wide bar lined in stools with saddles for seats. “It will take all three of you boys to fill the qualifications to any girl’s list.”
Griffin glared at Mamie, the cook at the Maverick Ranch for thirty years. “Why won’t it work? You turn into a fortune-teller in your old age?” He tolerated the round little woman and made a point of never taking her advice. “And, Mamie, we’re not boys. I took over the ranch at twenty-four, remember? Dad was getting sick and Mom was dead.”
“I know. I was here. Who do you think was cooking three meals a day for you boys? Don’t need to be a fortune-teller. None of you will ever find a woman dumb enough to take any one of you on.” She giggled and all the rolls from her neck to her stretch-pant-covered knees wobbled like Jell-O. “The three of you can’t get along. What makes you think bringing a woman in this house will solve anything? Besides being rich, she’d have to be crazy and blind to even think of taking one of you Holloways on.”
Griffin frowned. “Fair enough. I’ll add those to the list of requirements.”
Cramming on his hat, he decided talking to Mamie was like taking a once-per-day depression pill.
As he stepped out into the crisp November air, Griffin smiled. For a moment he just closed his eyes and breathed. This was his home, the place he’d always belong, and if he had to marry a rich, crazy, blind wife to keep it, he would.
By the time the town put up their eight reindeer on the light poles, he’d be engaged, and by Christmas he’d be married.
CHAPTER TWO
Midnight Crossing
DEEP WITHIN THE shadows of hills too rough to be broken by a road sat one lone cabin at the edge of Shallow River. Local history claimed that a hundred and fifty years ago, cattle drives crossed in the shade of these hills after midnight, hoping to move unnoticed by outlaws.
In the ’20s, the story went, several ranchers had been sitting around playing poker. The hour was late and most of their pockets were lean, so they
played one last hand. The loser had to claim ownership of Midnight Crossing. Since three of the eight men were from the O’Grady clan, the odds were against them avoiding ownership of the worthless land.
Nearly a century later, Jaxson O’Grady never cared about any legend, or poker, for that matter. He was the fifth O’Grady to move onto the worthless five-mile-square of land called Midnight Crossing. The rocky plot was bordered on one side by the Double K, Kirkland land, and on another by Maverick Ranch, owned by three Holloway brothers. Neither neighbor had ever offered to buy O’Grady’s land.
Now and then, in a family as big as the O’Gradys, a loner would be born who didn’t want to run with the pack. That man would lay claim to the cabin on Shallow River and live there until he either died or finally decided he’d rather join society than be driven insane by the winds that whipped through the rugged rock formations.
The old cabin had stood empty for more than twenty years when Jax claimed it, along with his right to loneliness. He’d been broken, and the family backed away, giving him time to heal.
He loved the spring and summers, but as fall turned into winter his second year alone, Jaxson reconsidered his choices. The wind howled down from the black hills, keeping him awake most nights. The river froze over for days, ending any hope of fishing.
Jax grew restless on cold nights, but he couldn’t go back among people, not yet. He never longed for company. Only peace. Summer’s calm cool nights gave him that. So he decided to stick out another winter, waiting for spring. Maybe then he could look people in the eyes. Maybe he’d forget, even for a while, what he’d done.
Over the months he’d been on Shallow River, his body had healed but he grew thin, as fear and regret ate away from inside. There were times when a man wasn’t fit for company, and Jax had decided he was living in one of those times.
No modern-day outlaws haunted the dark hills behind his cabin. No one crossed his piece of land except a cousin now and then checking on him. All Jaxson’s demons roamed in the dark corners of his mind. They whispered of what he should have done in the one moment when he hadn’t reacted.