The baby didn’t know what to do with the gift that he brought out from under the tiny tree that sat in the middle of the kitchen table. Finally, Landon helped her remove the paper and opened the box for her. She grabbed the stuffed yellow dog and held it close to her chest.
“Doggie!” she said and kissed it a dozen times on the nose.
“Now yours.” Dixie handed him the box.
“But you already gave me cookies,” he said. “What’s this?”
“Open it.” She was so excited to see his reaction that she didn’t even think about the other gifts that were still sitting under his tiny tree.
Landon tore into the box and brought out the throw. His eyes widened and he shook his head from side to side. “I can’t believe you did this for me, Dixie. It’s too pretty to use. Maybe I’ll use it for a wall hanging right above the fireplace.” He wrapped his arms around her and tipped up her chin for a long, passionate kiss.
When he ended the kiss, she thought of what Claire had said, and yes, sir, her toes had curled.
“What did you just say?” she asked.
“I said, I would hang it above the fireplace.” He got up from the sofa and brought two gift bags back to Dixie. “Neither one can match the quilt.”
She slid a piece of wood with a big red bow tied around it from the first bag. She looked up at him, and he sat down beside her. “I didn’t know what to give you, darlin’. That’s just a single piece of the firewood that’s stacked against the back of this cabin. It’s ready for the fireplace and will keep us warm this winter when you come to visit or if I’m lucky enough to have you live here with me. I’ve found that home is where the heart is, and mine is right here with you and Sally.”
“For real?” she asked.
“Yes, darlin’, for sure. I’d be miserable without you in my life. I’m hoping that when we’ve been together fifty years our kisses are still hot enough to burn cookies. Now open the other one,” he said.
She tossed a couple of pieces of tissue paper from the bag and brought out a small box. Inside she found a bracelet with a tiny red heart charm attached to it. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“I can’t take my heart out of my chest and give it to you, so that will have to do. I don’t want to rush you, but I want you to always be in my life. I’m giving my heart to you for Christmas, and each year we’re together I’ll add another heart to it,” he said as he fastened the bracelet around her wrist.
“Oh, Landon.” She didn’t even try to stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks. “This really is a perfect Christmas, and I love my presents, but most of all I love the fact that we don’t ever have to say good-bye.”
He picked her up and set her in his lap. “Now we’re the perfect little family for real, and I want it to last forever.”
She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him again. “I’ve liked being your friend all these months, but that’s grown into something more. I love you, Landon Griffin, and this has been the most perfect Christmas of my whole life.”
“Yes, it has, and I’ve fallen in love with you, too, Dixie, and even with all the craziness, it has been perfect.”
She smiled. “That’s the way our life will probably be—mishaps, giggles, and memories as we raise Sally together.”
“And lots of Merry Christmases,” he added, then kissed her again.
Also by Carolyn Brown
The Longhorn Canyon Series
Cowboy Bold
Cowboy Honor
Cowboy Brave
Cowboy Rebel
Christmas with a Cowboy
Cowboy Courage
Cowboy Strong
The Happy, Texas Series
Luckiest Cowboy of All
Long, Tall Cowboy Christmas
Toughest Cowboy in Texas
The Lucky Penny Ranch Series
Wild Cowboy Ways
Hot Cowboy Nights
Merry Cowboy Christmas
Wicked Cowboy Charm
Digital Novellas
Wildflower Ranch
Sunrise Ranch
About the Author
Carolyn Brown is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling romance author and RITA finalist who has published more than one hundred books. She presently writes both women’s fiction and cowboy romance. She has also written historical and contemporary romance, both standalone titles and series. She lives in southern Oklahoma with her husband, a former English teacher who is also an author of several mystery books. They have three children and enough grandchildren to keep them young.
For a complete listing of her books (in series order) and to sign up for her newsletter, check out her website at CarolynBrownBooks.com or catch her on Facebook/CarolynBrownBooks.
For S and C, who make all of my holidays magical.
Chapter One
Deputy Daniela Garcia always set two alarms. One for 4:15 a.m. and the other for 4:25. That allowed for one snooze and then one kick in the butt when she tried going back to sleep after said snooze. Some people liked time in the morning for coffee and contemplation. Not Dani. A good three-mile run through Meadow Valley while it was still asleep—with streetlamps and porch lights to guide her along the way—gave her plenty of time to contemplate. The coffee came later.
It was 4:29 now, and thanks to a time-honored practice of sleeping in her running gear, all she had to do was brush her teeth, splash some water on her face, throw her hair into a ponytail, and slip on her running shoes. She checked the weather on her smartwatch and sighed. Thirty-nine degrees. Looked like she’d be grabbing her track jacket too.
She stretched, put her earbuds in, and situated a water bottle in her waist belt. Then she loaded her holiday playlist before storing her phone in the belt as well.
“All I Want for Christmas Is You,” by Mariah Carey, blared in her ears, and she couldn’t help but grin.
She glanced at the closed door to her roommate Casey’s bedroom and shrugged before heading out of the apartment and down the stairs. Between Dani’s daytime shifts on duty and Casey’s late nights managing Midtown Tavern—the one-stop shop for any sort of nightlife in Meadow Valley, above which their apartment sat—the two barely saw each other.
Dani burst through the door and onto the dark and still-quiet First Street. She drew in a deep breath through her nose, the crisp smell of winter in the air, and headed up the street toward the town square.
As she ran, she made a mental note of each storefront’s holiday display and tried to imagine what sort of lights would be hung to give each window, roof, or awning—or all of the above—its finishing touch.
Because today was the seventeenth of December, the day the countdown to the First Street Holiday Lights Parade started, and this year the Sheriff’s Department was going to kick the butt of every other shop, tavern, inn, and building. Not that it was a competition.
But it sort of was. An unwritten and unspoken competition of sorts where the only reward was bragging rights. Sure, it evoked some good-natured ribbing and maybe some mild trash talk, but winning meant being the talk of the town for the whole next year, and that was enough for her.
Dani ran into the square and made a loop, eyeing the three government buildings that occupied the space—the red-bricked and white-pillared courthouse, standing with elegance beneath the gray sky; the Meadow Valley town hall, equally regal, like a miniature White House; and then the sheriff’s office. Its one story was dwarfed by the other two buildings, and its brown-brick facade—some of it starting to crumble—was a far cry from the curb appeal of the other two. But that was nothing compared to what was happening on the inside. The roof leaked when it rained. Maybe that wasn’t often, but still. And the power seemed to go out whenever the wind picked up. Plus, one of their two cells was so badly rusted that if you actually locked someone in it, it might never open up again. Not that Meadow Valley was overrun with crime. In fact, since most of the county was farm- and ranchland, and everyone in town knew everyone in town, she dou
bted Sheriff Thompson or any sheriff before him ever actually had occupants in both cells at the same time.
Still. The place could use an upgrade, and Mayor Grady kept promising that the sheriff’s office would be on the top of his list for allocation of town funds in the New Year. He just hadn’t had a chance to follow through before dying. Peacefully, of course. In his sleep. He was eighty-three.
“And now we have to deal with Mayor Grinch and boosting the economy and bringing in more tourists and blah, blah, blah,” she muttered as she slowed her pace, giving the stink eye to the town hall.
If his platform had been cutting the lights parade from his budget, Peyton Cooper never would have won the emergency election. He threw that little nugget into his acceptance speech. “The parade can still happen,” he’d said, “but preparation cannot take place during working hours. Tourism is growing in this town, thanks to the Meadow Valley Ranch joining our ranks. But we need to concentrate on serving our public the best we can, which means actually working during daylight hours.”
“Actually working during daylight hours,” she mimicked. “Because I’m too good for small-town shenanigans.” The hypocrite of a mayor seemed to have forgotten he’d grown up in Meadow Valley. And once upon a time Dani could have sworn he’d even participated in a small-town shenanigan or two.
She felt a tap on her shoulder and gasped, then pivoted toward her possible assailant and grabbed him by the wrist, quickly wrenching his arm behind his back and using her chin to pause her playlist from her watch as her other hand cupped the man behind the neck.
“Deputy?” His deep voice was calm and assured. “While I do admire your reflexes and have no doubt the street—empty as it might be—is safer with you patrolling it, is this really how you want to greet your elected official, especially after just calling him a grinch and—dare I say—parroting his mayoral acceptance speech in that awful voice? I don’t really sound like that, do I?”
Dani winced.
Shit.
She’d just apprehended Mayor Grinch—er Cooper. At least, that was what she called him to his face.
She released her grip and took a step back while the mayor shook out his arm and straightened to his full height, which she estimated to be about six foot three—quite a bit taller than her five-seven frame. But let the record show that she’d still subdued him. The corner of her mouth twitched, but she fought the urge to grin.
She cleared her throat. “Mayor Cooper,” she said, thinking before speaking so as not to risk the whole grinch thing again. “My, um, apologies. Guess I’m still not over Mr. Big-City Politician practically canceling the Meadow Valley Holiday Lights Parade.”
She smirked.
He gritted his teeth, and a muscle in his jaw pulsed. Once upon a time she might have noticed that said jaw was chiseled and maybe even a little sexy. But Deputy Daniela Garcia was no longer a high school sophomore crushing on the senior boy who never even noticed her. Besides, sexy wasn’t a man who turned his nose up at small-town traditions. Sexy wasn’t a man who cared more about the bottom line than the community who helped him become the big-city hotshot he was today. And sexy certainly was not a man who basically wanted to cancel Christmas.
“I didn’t cancel anything,” he said coolly. “I just thought it might be more fiscally responsible for the whole town to scale back on all festival activities. Do you know most businesses have to hire extra help so the decorating can get done during daylight hours and shops can stay open? If folks want to do the whole light thing on off-hours and weekends, that’s fine by me.”
“It’s winter,” she said. “Off-hours don’t include any daylight hours.”
“Folks do get days off around here, don’t they? No one’s working a seven-day week.” He scratched the back of his neck, and in the glow of the streetlight, she could see the ends of his light brown hair, just above his ears, damp with sweat. Now she eyed his track pants, lightweight jacket, and trail-running shoes.
“I didn’t know you were a runner. I’ve never seen you on my route,” she said, not acknowledging what sounded like a dig to all the hardworking folks in her town. Sure, maybe things moved at a different pace here than they did in Chicago or wherever else Peyton Cooper had been for the past decade and a half, but that didn’t mean anyone worked any less hard than he ever did.
“I’m sure there’s a lot you don’t actually know about me, Deputy. Though I see you’ve got your mind made up.” He crossed his arms. “And just so we’re clear, your apology a few minutes ago? Was that for using physical force or for the name-calling?” He raised a brow.
Her cheeks burned, and she was grateful the sun still wasn’t up. That self-assured attitude was one of the reasons she’d had a crush on Peyton Cooper in high school—and had made a total fool of herself because of him many Christmases ago. But he wasn’t the same guy anymore. Now all his bold confidence did was remind her of how she’d humiliated herself and how he’d left Meadow Valley the second he graduated, turning his nose up at small-town living and heading to college in Chicago for all the big city could offer a young politician on the rise. Why he came back was beyond her. And how he won the election when Mabel—owner and proprietor of Meadow Valley’s one and only bakery, the Mad Batter—would have been perfectly suitable in the role was an even bigger mystery. Okay, so maybe Mabel was pushing eighty herself…Jeez, why did no one under sixty-five want to run this town?
“The first one,” Dani finally said. “The physical force. You weren’t supposed to hear the—uh—name-calling, so an apology for that would be empty because all it would mean was that I was sorry you caught it—”
“But not that you actually said it,” he interrupted. “Because it’s what you think. It’s what everyone thinks, isn’t it?” He shrugged. “How about we look on the bright side. At least no one has to worry about me shirking any of my mayoral duties, since the town hall is bowing out of the lights parade altogether.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re not—you’re not participating? I don’t get it. You used to love the holidays. You were the winter formal king your senior year. They—they crowned you with a Santa hat, for crying out loud.”
His eyebrows arched, and she regretted letting that last part slip out.
“You remember—” he started, but she cut him off. She was not about to delve into high school nostalgia with the guy who certainly didn’t remember her like she remembered him.
“So that’s it?” she said, bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Not even one tiny string of lights?”
Frowning, he shook his head. “Gave most of my staff a full two weeks off for the holidays. Not enough hands on deck. Plus, Christmas isn’t really my thing anymore, so it’s a win-win.” He pulled a pair of wireless earbuds from his pocket and put them in. “Anyway, I was just going to say good morning before when you—you know…”
“Almost broke you like a wishbone?” she said, hands fisted and resting on her hips. She could do boldly confident too.
He laughed. “I’m harder to break than that, Deputy. Have a good run. I’ll just head back the way I came so we don’t have any more unfortunate encounters.” From his other pocket he pulled a small flashlight, then took off toward a side street that led nowhere other than the outskirts of town.
“Ugh,” she groaned. He didn’t get to just push her buttons like that and then run off into the sunrise.
Except that was exactly what he did.
Chapter Two
Peyton Cooper knew about the Grinch nickname, but he’d enjoyed the blissful ignorance of never having heard anyone refer to him as such. Out of sight, out of mind—that was his motto. Well, more like out of ear, out of mind. But thanks to Deputy Garcia, who probably didn’t realize she was talking over whatever was blaring in her earbuds, Peyton heard it loud and clear.
Didn’t she get it? He was going to make this town better than it had ever been. He was going to do for Meadow Valley what he wasn’t able to do as the youngest elected
village trustee in the Chicago suburb he’d hoped to use as a stepping-stone to his own mayoral seat someday. So someday had come sooner than expected, and maybe it wasn’t exactly the big city he’d planned on, but he was here. Trying to make a difference. And Deputy Garcia was—she was so—so—
He growled under his breath. She acted like she knew everything about him and his agenda when she’d barely said two words to him back in their teen years. Now she was all sharp-tongued and angry at him for wanting to do his job. Christmas had nothing to do with it. And those damned caramel-colored eyes of hers that had looked away all those years ago when he—a pretty well-liked guy at their high school, if he did say so himself—had tried to say hi to her in the halls now held his gaze until he was the one who turned and walked away. Okay, so maybe he ran away, but he was out for a morning run. He couldn’t fault himself for that part.
Leave it alone, Coop, he told himself. Nothing good will come from finding her attractive. Even if he had then. Even if he did now.
She still wants nothing to do with you.
He laughed, shook his head, and continued running up the road, back toward what was once his family’s home but was now a house and stable in disrepair. He hoped the pilot light had stayed lit on the hot water heater so he didn’t have to take another cold shower.
Baby steps, right? Little by little he’d get the place up and running again. He owed his parents that much—and the town too. Grinch or not, he had Meadow Valley’s best interests at heart. Maybe that wasn’t what sent him hightailing it out of Chicago, but it’s what pushed him to run for the open seat when Mayor Grady passed away.
Peyton made it to the steps of his childhood home clocking in at four miles. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, and his T-shirt clung to his chest—both signs of a good ol’ stress-purging run.
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