Her Christmas Cowboy Read online

  Her Christmas Cowboy

  Adele Downs

  www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

  HER CHRISTMAS COWBOY

  Copyright © 2014 Adele Downs

  All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

  ISBN 978-1-941260-67-8

  For members of Adele Downs’s Convertible Crew Facebook street team.

  You’re the best! Thank you for your enthusiasm and support.

  HER CHRISTMAS COWBOY

  “You can’t go wrong with Adele Downs.”

  —Will Work for Books

  Chapter One

  “I never want to hear the word ‘but’ again!” Daisy said to Musket. “You did a great job, girl. No buts about it.”

  She loosened the cinch that secured the saddle to make the horse more comfortable, planning to walk Musket the last half mile to the police stables at the edge of the city park while the mare cooled down. “At least our partnership is ending on a positive note,” she added, giving the horse an affectionate pat.

  Musket had performed well during their chase and apprehension of a burglar in the business district. Fortunately, no shots were fired before backup was called and Daisy arrested the suspect, but her sergeant’s words during their morning meeting still rang in her ears. “We put you on notice weeks ago that Musket wasn’t meeting our standards of performance. We warned you this might happen. You and Musket are both good police, and we’re not blaming you, but…”

  The quarter horse continued to underperform during crowd control and remained skittish around loud noises, so she was being sent to an expert for additional training. If the mare couldn’t adapt to the demands of police work, she’d be returned to her donor. The sergeant advised that a two-year-old thoroughbred mare had been promised to the department…but wouldn’t be ready for partner assignment until its training was done. Daisy would be relegated to desk duty over the Christmas holidays and into the New Year.

  Not everyone—equine or human—was suited for mounted patrol. Daisy wondered sometimes if she and Musket were kindred spirits whose attachment was based on their fear of failure.

  “I’m sorry I let you down.” Daisy placed a hand on Musket’s smooth neck while they strolled side by side on the park trail. The sound of her boots and clomp of the horse’s hoofs made a lively percussion that failed to lift her mood. “A more experienced rider might have helped you improve.”

  Daisy knew better, but she couldn’t help feeling responsible for Musket’s lackluster performance. Though she was barely out of equestrian training herself, and in no position to teach, she understood the complexities of mounted police work. Despite being an experienced cop, she’d had to start over when she transferred from Pennsylvania to Texas to join the mounted patrol. The learning curve was greater than she’d anticipated, and some days she wondered if moving to Houston had been a mistake.

  A mistake that might be rectified by the email she’d received two days earlier.

  Daisy rubbed the folded printout of the message in her pocket like a worry stone. She’d read the invitation so many times she’d committed it to memory. A friend, who’d sympathized after her partner in her former unit was killed, knew of an opportunity in a department not far from the place she’d once called home. If she got the job, she could return to Pennsylvania and start fresh there. The offer was time sensitive, though, and she had to apply by the New Year.

  How different her life might be if the opportunity had come months ago, before moving to the south! She’d never been further inland than Ohio, and the Texas landscape looked as foreign to her as the earth did to the moon. Only Treymont Woods, the sexy hard-bodied cowboy who’d helped restore her confidence after she’d almost fallen to pieces, seemed convinced she’d made the right choice by coming to Houston. The riding lessons she’d taken from him at Breezy Meadows Ranch had prepared her for the toughest police training of her life.

  Falling in love with Trey had been the easy part. The blue-eyed, sandy-haired ranch hand had done something no man had ever done, on or off the force. He’d looked into her heart, identified the wound, and found a way to stem the bleeding.

  Daisy’s step lightened with thoughts of Trey, and she relaxed in companionable silence with Musket until two young girls on sparkly purple bicycles rode up beside them.

  “I like your Smokey the Bear hat,” the smaller girl said. She had a freckled nose, green eyes, and bright red hair, and she smiled, showing shiny braces.

  Daisy smiled back. The girl could be her miniature.

  “I want to be on horseback patrol someday, too, and wear a cool uniform like yours and carry a gun. I’m glad girls can join.”

  Except for support staff, Daisy was the only female member of her unit, but she didn’t mention that. Time changed all things. “I bet you’ll be great.”

  “Can we pet your horse?” the other girl asked. She looked taller than her friend, but just as lean, with long black hair, dark eyes, and olive skin.

  “Sure,” Daisy said. The mounted police were trained to allow citizens access to their horses and barn, so she brought Musket to a halt while the girls parked their bikes. Musket flipped her ears and made contented chuffing sounds while the children hugged and petted her. Daisy’s heart sank at the reminder that she’d no longer have this gentle equine partner by the end of shift.

  The girls finished oohing and aahing over the mare and returned to their bicycles. “Merry Christmas!” they shouted. They waved good-bye and rode away.

  Daisy waved back and continued her trek to the barn. Christmas. With only a week to go, the holiday spirit had failed to find her. Houston was a nice place to live and work…but it still didn’t feel like home. Though the lampposts in the city park were wrapped with garlands, the trees were strung with twinkle lights, and the shops were draped with green and red, she longed for the crisp, cold air of a Pennsylvania winter. Hot chocolate by the fire after a day of skiing, warm gingerbread from the oven after building a snowman, or a simple walk around the park with snowflakes spinning through the air spelled Christmas. The temperate winds and Texas sunshine warming her cheeks couldn’t compete with old Jack Frost.

  Her only Christmas bright spot was Trey.

  But…she wasn’t sure he loved her back. They’d been dating since her summer riding lessons, and though their passion burned white hot, the biggest L word in the universe hadn’t come up. Daisy had bitten her tongue more than once to keep from saying it first. After her partner was killed, she was blamed and vilified until her emotions bled and she learned to hold tight to her surviving sliver of pride. Dignity was the guardian of shame—and all that she had left. Telling a man she loved him without knowing if he loved her too was an emotional risk she couldn’t take.

  Daisy squared her shoulders. “I’m banning the word ‘but’ from my vocabulary.” She raised her f
ace to the sun and submitted to its warmth before stepping inside. “We have to believe things will work out the way they should.”

  She gave Musket an affectionate scratch behind the ears before removing the mare’s saddle, inspecting under her coat for bruises, and checking her hooves for stones or burrs. When she was satisfied, she brushed the animal from head to tail. Then she rested her cheek against Musket’s soft mane.

  “Merry Christmas, my friend. Be happy.”

  She guided the animal to the pasture behind the barn to graze. Musket turned her head and gave it a shake, as if returning a farewell wish before joining the other off-duty horses.

  A lump formed in Daisy’s throat and heaviness surrounded her heart at their parting. Once again, she’d let down a partner who needed her.

  Daisy swallowed, raised her chin, and made her way to her car past busy fellow officers without making eye contact. It wasn’t until she sat behind the wheel that she allowed her tears to fall.

  Chapter Two

  Treymont Woods stripped off his shirt before nailing another porch rail into place. The muscles in his arms and torso flexed with the movements, reminding him how good it was to be whole again. Beads of perspiration trickled down the hollow between his pectorals, over his stomach, and along the hairline leading into his low-slung cutoffs. He wiped the moisture off his brow and chest and tossed the shirt aside. Hard work and the Texas sun could make a man sweat even in December.

  Trey didn’t mind manual labor. He’d waited a long time as his rodeo injury healed to finish building his house. The porch was the crown that he would lay upon his home with his own two hands. He stepped back to check his work and admire his progress. Another two rails and a coat of stain and the place would be ready for Christmas.

  He swept out an arm toward the coal-black stallion grazing nearby. “Whadaya think? Look good?”

  Big Blue kept his head down and chomped another batch of clover.

  Trey inhaled, lifted another board, and set it into place. Noontime sunshine glinted over the thoroughbred’s back, painting sapphire pools that never failed to take his breath. “Okay, be like that. See if you get sugar when my nieces ride you Christmas Day.”

  He looked sideways at Big Blue and had to laugh when the horse looked up and snorted. “Thought so. Can’t deprive a horse of his sugar, especially on a holiday.”

  He pressed the nail gun against the board and squeezed the trigger twice. Boom, boom. The nails slammed into place. His grey and black barn cat, Shady Lady, screeched at the sound and skittered past his feet. She circled and bumped his shins.

  “Whoa, there, kitty! You’re gonna get hurt up here.” He lifted the chubby tabby and carried her down the steps and back to the barn for safekeeping. The cat mewled softly in his arms but didn’t resist.

  Shady Lady would have to stay off the porch for another couple of days until the work was done. If he finished staining the wood within twenty-four hours, the porch would dry in time for his family’s holiday arrival. He’d invited his parents and grandmother, his brother and his children, a couple of guys from Breezy Meadows Ranch, and Daisy’s sister, Rose, to Christmas dinner. Rose was an Afghanistan war widow who had invited Daisy to move in with her when she joined the Houston Mounted Patrol. Trey would always be grateful for that.

  Daisy. His Christmas guest of honor. Every time he thought about her, his insides did a crazy leap and his heartbeat kicked up a notch. Even rodeo couldn’t match the excitement he felt when she came near.

  The beautiful cop had changed his life. He’d fractured his back in what would become the last rodeo of his life, and his future had looked uncertain. Then he taught her to ride, and Daisy made him feel more like a man than he ever had before. Her faith in him, and her acceptance, had hastened his recovery. It wasn’t long after he’d fallen for her that he returned to full duty as a ranch hand and was able to finish building his house.

  The six acres he’d bought at the edge of Breezy Meadows Ranch with the money he’d earned, saved, and inherited from his grandfather had been divided into sections: One for his four bedroom, two-story house. Another for a barn with four stalls, and the rest for grazing. In time, he’d add a garden with flower and vegetable beds and build a chicken coop. He’d always known he’d raise a family here with plenty of room for his children to play. It was just a matter of finding the right wife—and of being the right husband for her.

  Daisy. A forest green Jeep Wrangler approached, kicking up dust along the dirt road leading to his property. Trey put down his nail gun, pulled off his work gloves, and moved to the steps to greet the woman he’d know anywhere, even from a hundred yards.

  She pulled into the lane leading to his house and parked next to his pickup. Trey watched her long legs step from the vehicle and eyed the curve of her hips, the cinch of her waist, and the press of her breasts against the blue fabric of her uniform. His gaze lingered on the exposed flesh above the top button of her blouse and then rested on her lovely, freckled face. How many times had he kissed that determined chin? That luscious full mouth? That adorable nose?

  He could hardly count the times he’d held Daisy in his arms and brushed her cheek with his or stared into those expressive green eyes that had captured his heart bit by bit until it was completely hers. And yet, though he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything, including this house or a return to his old way of life in the rodeo, he’d never told Daisy he loved her.

  Once he said the words, there was no taking them back. For him, love and commitment meant “forever,” and the single thing that prevented him from taking that leap…was Daisy. Fear and indecision flashed in her eyes whenever she talked about staying in Texas. He’d seen that look a thousand times in the horses he’d trained, just before they bolted.

  Daisy’s adjustment to Southern life and the mounted police had been spotty at best. Her unsuccessful pairing with Musket had only added to her misery. Even if she loved him too, he couldn’t make her stay. He wanted his love to free her, not bind her. She’d have to come to accept him, his land, and his home state in her own time and on her own terms.

  He watched sunlight play over the natural mix of copper, blonde, and auburn streaking Daisy’s shoulder-length hair. She smiled at him with her approach, and Trey grinned, knowing she’d untied her hair for him after taking off her hat and removing her gun. She rocked a uniform like nobody’s business, and he knew he was the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet to have her, for however long.

  Daisy held up a big brown bag and gave it a shake. “Ready for some lunch, cowboy?”

  At the sound of paper rattling, Big Blue lifted his head, blew through his lips, and began walking toward the fence that separated the house from the pasture.

  Trey’s stomach rumbled. “Can’t say I’d mind.”

  Daisy strolled toward the steps and Trey continued his descent until they met at the bottom. Trey leaned in and laid a deep, welcoming kiss on Daisy’s lips. She kissed him back, tasting like sweet mint and smelling delicious, like vanilla.

  He cupped a hand on her bottom and pulled her closer, gently squeezing her backside while he pressed his body tight to hers. Sensations and sounds disappeared outside their mutual breaths, the texture of their tongues, and the feel of her mouth against his. Weariness that had crept over him dissolved with the brush of her breasts against his chest. Desire took its place.

  When they finally broke the kiss, Daisy’s eyes widened. “Wow. I should bring you roast beef sandwiches more often.”

  Trey had to smile. “I like seeing you in the middle of the day. Desk duty has its perks. At least you get an actual lunch break while you wait for your new horse.”

  Daisy ran a hand over his bare chest and thumbed a nipple, immediately bringing it to attention, like the rest of him. “You keep showing up for lunch half-naked and you’re going to get me fired. I only have another forty minutes.”

  “Two things a man should never do fast is make love or eat a meal.” He gave he
r another kiss. “Rain check?”

  She made that low, sexy sound deep in her throat that always turned his blood on fire. “Rain or shine, cowboy.”

  Trey took a deep breath and let it out when she stepped back. This woman was driving him mad. He wanted to spend more time with her, both in and out of the sack. “Deal.”

  She looked past his shoulder at his handiwork. “The porch looks great. Need some help adding the stain?”

  “I’ve got it handled, thanks. Should be done by tomorrow.” He took the brown bag from Daisy and looked inside. “Mmm. Chips. Fruit. Iced tea too.” He planted a kiss on her nose. “You’re the best.”

  Daisy reached in and pulled out an apple. “I brought an extra for Big Blue.”

  Trey set the bag on a step and they walked together to the fence to greet the horse.

  “Remember when I was afraid to touch him?” Daisy asked, laughing, and the pale pink splotches that formed on her cheeks made Trey grin. Terrified was more like it, but she’d overcome her fear and learned to ride like a champion.

  Big Blue gave Daisy an affectionate nudge, and she stroked his face. “Hey, boy. Wish I had a horse like you to partner with. Trey says you’re the greatest horse that ever lived.” She placed the apple on her palm and held it out for the stallion. He crunched the Red Delicious between his large square teeth and swallowed.

  “Sorry things didn’t pan out for you and Musket,” Trey said. He put his arm around Daisy’s waist and walked with her back to the house. “I guess jelling with an equine partner is as hard as working with a human. The fit has to be right.”

  As soon as he said the words he wanted to kick himself in the head. He winced and then glanced over at Daisy. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”

  She didn’t reply right away. She bit her bottom lip and then looked up at him. “Musket was my horse and I miss her. I feel like I’m jinxed. Anyone who partners with me, human or equine, is doomed to fail. At least this time my partner didn’t die.” She choked on the last word, and her eyes filled with tears.