My Christmas Cowboy. Shelley Galloway

And a mistake. A big mistake.

      Of course, Trent was right. Seeing him in that big house with the marble and the woodwork and the leather couches in the living room, she’d been all the more aware of her status. Of her look in gray slacks and boots and thrift-store coat.

      And of how different she must look from the women he probably dated. When, you know, he wasn’t catting around in honky-tonks.

      The women he took out to dinner probably wore gold watches and had facials and manicures. Their sweaters probably came from Neiman Marcus. Their boots from Lucchese.

      Twenty minutes later, she pulled into her parking place and shook her head in dismay at her sweet baby. Of course Amanda Rose was now sound asleep. A ride in the car never failed to do that to her. Jolene knew the moment that they entered the apartment little Amanda was going to open her eyes and start fussing. Just when her momma needed to settle down after her tangle with Trent Jerkface Riddell.

      She’d just unhooked the carrier, locked her car and swung her purse on her shoulder when one of her neighbors called out.

      “Jo, is that you?”

      Addison Thomas. She struggled to keep her voice even. “Yep.”

      Before she could think of anything more to say, he was trotting over. “What’s going on?”

      “Nothing much. I’m just getting home.”

      He reached out to help her carry Amanda. With a bit of reluctance, she let him. Her biceps would appreciate the break, even though a part of her hated to give up her baby’s care. Ever.

      “Home from where?”

      No way was she going to tell him about the disastrous meeting with Trent. “Nowhere special.”

      “Oh. I’ve just been working out.” He grinned.

      “That sounds like fun.” She fought to smile as they walked side by side through the dark, snowy parking lot. Addison was not exactly all brawn. Actually, he was more along the lines of lean and stringy. With a bit of belly flab built in.

      “It wasn’t fun at all. Did I tell you I started working with a personal trainer? He’s kicking my butt.”

      “I thought that was the point.”

      “Maybe … maybe not.”

      Now they made it to her door. “You can just set Amanda Rose down, Addison. I’ll get her inside.”

      “I’ve got time. I’ll wait until you unlock your door.”

      She was getting uncomfortable. “All right,” she said slowly. She dug a hand in her purse and fished around for her keys. And then fished some more. Finally, when she located the key and slid it into the lock, a good two minutes had passed.

      To her dismay, he turned the knob and walked right inside. She flicked on the light behind him. “Well, thanks again.”

      After carefully setting the still sleeping baby down, he turned to her. “So, since you’re not doing anything now, how about we visit for a while?”

      “I don’t think so. I’m pretty tired.”

      “You’re not ready for bed, are you? It’s only nine.”

      The innocent question was accompanied by a look of wanting. “No. But I am ready to just sit. Thanks again, Addison. I’ll see you around.”

      Instead of stepping toward the door, he leaned back against the white paint of the wall. “You look sad. How about some company?”

      “No thanks. I’m not in a very good mood. I wouldn’t be much of a conversationalist.”

      “We wouldn’t have to talk, Jo.”

      So, that was where his kindness had been leading. Why was she even surprised?

      Oh, but her hand ached to slap him. But they were neighbors. And that was her reputation. The good-time girl. So she laughed him off. “Good night, Addison.”

      Surprise knotted his brows. “You’re serious, huh?”

      “I am. Good night.”

      “Well, sure. ‘Night, Jo.”

      The moment he walked through her doorway, she closed the door with a snap and dead bolted it. Oh, he made her want to take a shower!

      As Amanda Rose slept on, Jolene went to go do just that. Maybe the hot water flowing over her shoulders would relax the knots that had suddenly appeared there.

      Maybe all her worries would disappear down the shower drain, too.

      She had bills and a baby and a reputation in ruins.

      And only about another month’s worth of money in her checking account.

      And very few options.

      Moments later, she learned that even the cleansing water of her shower did no good. No matter where she went, her problems seemed to be glued to her. No amount of soap was going to wash them off.

      Tears soon mixed in with the spray. And then her knees went weak.

      Before she knew it, Jolene was sitting on the cold, hard tile, crying her eyes out. And a very sweet baby sat silent, watching her on the other side of the glass.

      Chapter Six

      “So, I was thinking you and me were overdue for a little heart to heart,” his dad said late that night.

      Trent set down the tumbler of Jim Beam he’d been nursing for the past hour and shifted uncomfortably as his dad took a seat across from him. “I figured as much.”

      Balancing his elbows on his knees, his dad pierced him with a gaze. “Tell me more about you and Jolene. And Amanda.”

      “I don’t know much more than you.”

      “I don’t agree.” His father’s eyes hardened. “I think you’ve been might busy, son.”

      Trent felt his cheeks heat as the lump in his throat grew. “Jo and me got a little carried away one night. That’s all.”

      “And you didn’t use protection.”

      “No.”

      “What did you say?”

      The tone told Trent everything he needed to know. “No, sir,” he amended.

      “So everything is really all your responsibility, isn’t it?”

      “I swear, I didn’t know she was pregnant. I didn’t know about Amanda.”

      “Because you didn’t see the need to treat her right. Did you?”

      “Dammit, Dad. It was just a one-night thing—” Trent took a breath as he tried to come up with the words to describe what life had been like out on the road. All a lot of women wanted from him was one night.

      But before he could continue, his dad held up a hand. “That sorry explanation is your problem, Trent. You shouldn’t have been treating women like that …”

      “Dad …”

      “And especially not Jolene.”

      The statement shamed him. But pride made him keep talking. “You know, nothing’s certain. We don’t know for certain that I’m the father.”

      “Oh, I think plenty is certain. You’ve just told me that you treated Jolene disrespectfully, were too full of yourself to be a man and check up on her, and now still don’t want to accept responsibility. You’ve shamed me, son.”

      Trent felt lower than a rattler’s belly. “Yes, sir.”

      “You listen to me, and you listen well. You need to make things right. Pronto.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “I’m