The Cowboy's Christmas Family. DONNA ALWARD

      “I want to make sure you’re all right first,” Cole insisted. “Or I could drive you over there myself. They at your folks’ place?”

      “No, at the day care. I can’t expect Mom to keep them all the time, and it was a workday for me. Besides, the day care is closer.” Maddy’s mom and dad lived on a pretty lot on the other side of the river. They’d been absolutely wonderful over the past few months, but Maddy was determined to stand on her own two feet.

      He dabbed at her head with the kerchief again. “It seems to be stopping. Not too deep, then. Still, it looks like you had your bell rung pretty good.”

      He’d raised one eyebrow and looked slightly roguish, a small smile flirting with his lips. She couldn’t help it—she laughed a little. “So, my secret is out. Now you know I’m the world’s biggest klutz.”

      “Oh, I wouldn’t say that big.” He was genuinely smiling at her now. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to call you. I wanted to talk to you about the festival. Why don’t we grab a coffee or something?”

      It surprised her to realize that she wanted to accept. Generally she took her own tea bags or hot chocolate to the library rather than spend money on the extravagance, and she really did need to pick up the boys...though it had been a complete fabrication to say she was running late, since she was paid up until five, which was another hour and a bit away.

      “I probably shouldn’t,” she said, pushing her purse straps more securely on her shoulder.

      “Hey,” Cole said quietly. “When was the last time you let someone buy you a cup of coffee, huh? It’s got to be hard being a single mom. Heck, my ma raised two boys and she had my dad and she said we were exhausting. You’ve got twins...phew.”

      “Great, now I’m a pity date?”

      “Good Lord, woman, you’re exasperating.” Cole stepped back and tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. “I actually do want to talk to you about the festival. Over coffee sounded kind of nice, that’s all. Look, I admire all your independence and stuff, but not everything comes from pity around here. Sometimes people genuinely want to help people they care about, that’s all.”

      Was he saying he cared about her? They didn’t even know each other that well. Of course, he must be speaking in far more general terms, right?

      His words made her feel sheepish, too. It was no secret she had a chip on her shoulder. She’d always liked Cole. He was well-known in town, and had been only a couple of years ahead of her in school. He and Gavin had been in the same class from kindergarten right through graduation. Not that she truly trusted Gav’s judgment anymore, either.

      She sighed, met Cole’s gaze. “I get defensive. I’m sorry, Cole. I was kind of stressed out when you came up behind me and then I whacked my head and you’re right about the pity thing.” She shrugged. “I tell myself every day that I should get over being bitter. It’s just hard.”

      “Of course it is. And you’re bringing up two rambunctious boys on your own. You’ll find people in this town have a lot of respect for you, Maddy. Now what do you say? Do you want to stop at the diner, or maybe the Daily Grind?”

      Why shouldn’t she go have a cup of something? Didn’t she deserve something for herself? Maddy nodded and felt a weight lift. “The Grind would be really nice, actually. I haven’t been in there for ages.”

      She locked the car and walked beside him as they made their way down Main Street to the coffee shop. It had opened fairly recently, a somewhat trendy spot in a town steeped in old-time traditions. He held the door for her and she stepped in, loving the scents that hit her nose the moment she entered—coffee, chocolate, cinnamon—lovely, cozy, warm scents that wrapped around her and eased some of the stresses of her day.

      “What will you have?” Cole asked. “My treat.”

      “I can get my own,” she insisted, but Cole cut her off.

      “What did I just say outside?”

      “Sorry.” She hoped she wasn’t blushing again. “Um, what kinds of tea do you have?” She looked at the girl behind the counter.

      “The list is here.” The girl gestured, pointing to a sign on a glass display front. “But this month we have a special flavor called Country Christmas, if you would like to try it. It’s kind of like mulled cider, only with black tea.”

      “That sounds lovely. I’ll have that,” Maddy said. She looked longingly at the apple cinnamon pastries, but it would only be a few more hours and she’d have dinner. Besides, she was letting Cole buy her tea. She wouldn’t presume to order anything to eat.

      He ordered coffee and Maddy added honey to her tea while he waited for his order. To her surprise, he came over to her and put down a plate with two pastries on it before reaching for the cream to add to his coffee.

      “Don’t say it,” he said before she could even open her mouth. “My mom and dad left a few days ago for their trip and there’s no baking in the house.”

      “Let me guess. Chronic sweet tooth?”

      He stirred his coffee, dropped the stir stick in the trash and picked up both mug and plate. “Yeah. I think I’m spoiled probably, because my mom always keeps the kitchen well stocked for us.”

      “Hungry boys working the ranch need good home cooking.”

      “Yep.” He grinned. “And my mom’s is the best.”

      They found seats not too far from the window. Maddy looked around. The Christmas decorations were up, with boughs and pretty white lights draped around the dark wood rails and beams. Someone had sprayed fake snow on the corners of the windows, and a huge poinsettia was on a small table in the corner. Some sort of new-agey Christmas music played on the speakers, with a bluesy-sounding saxophone and a reassuring bass line. Maddy took a sip of her tea—delicious—and let her stress levels drop another notch.

      “See?” he said, pushing the plate toward her and handing her one of the forks. “Time out for Maddy.”

      She laughed a bit. “I’ve been so cranky lately that you’re probably doing a public service,” she joked. Sort of joked, anyway. All work and no play and all that...

      “Aw, darn, you saw right through me,” he quipped, cutting a huge corner of the pastry with the edge of his fork. “Of course not. I just realized last week at the library that you really had your hands full. It got me thinking, that’s all.”

      Again she got the weird swirly sensation at the idea of Cole thinking about her.

      “Well, whatever the reason, thank you. This is delicious.”

      “That’s better. And you’re welcome.”

      She took a bite of turnover and closed her eyes. The pastry was light and flaky and beautifully buttery. “This is going to ruin my supper, and I don’t even care,” she said, licking the caramelly residue on the fork.

      “I’d say mine, too, but it’s Tanner’s night to cook. If he’s home. I’ll probably end up making myself a sandwich or something later tonight.”

      “Your mom really does spoil you.” She met his gaze again and grinned.

      “And I let her, so I’m as bad as she is.” He smiled, too. “Honestly, there are some pros to still living at home. And it doesn’t make sense to pay for two households when there’s more than enough room. But yeah, I’m a thirty-three-year-old man living with his parents. Whoo-ee, look at me.”

      Maddy wondered why he’d never married, but she sure as shootin’ wasn’t going to ask. It was none of her business, and she didn’t like it when people pried into her personal life. Besides, Cole was hardly the stereotypical live-at-home type. The Hudson ranch was solid, respected in the town and state, with a reputation for quality stock and fair dealing. Definitely a family operation.

      Before