Merry Christmas, Baby Maverick!. Brenda Harlen

matters is that they’re together now and a family with their little girl.”

      “Speaking of little girls,” Trey said, looking at his cousin’s daughter seated across from him in her high chair. “I can’t get over how much this one has grown in the past few months.”

      “Like a weed,” Levi confirmed, ruffling the soft hair on the top of his daughter’s head.

      Bekka looked up at him, her big blue eyes wide and adoring.

      “No doubt that one’s a daddy’s girl,” Claire noted.

      Her husband just grinned.

      “Speaking of Kayla Dalton,” his grandmother said.

      “Who was speaking of Kayla Dalton?” Gene asked.

      “Trey was,” Melba said.

      “We were talking about Bekka.”

      “Earlier,” Melba clarified. “When I mentioned the Dalton girl got engaged, he asked if it was Kayla.”

      “Hers was just the first name that came to mind,” Trey hastened to explain.

      “And I wonder why that was,” his grandmother mused.

      “Probably because he was up close and personal with her at Braden and Jennifer’s wedding,” Claire teased.

      “Anyway,” Melba interjected. “I was wondering if you were going to see Kayla while you’re in town.”

      “I already did,” he admitted. “She walked by the community center when we were unloading the truck.”

      His grandmother shook her head as she began to stack the empty plates. “I meant, are you going to go out with her?”

      “Melba,” her husband said warningly.

      “What? Is there something wrong with wanting my grandson to spend time with a nice girl?”

      Claire pushed away from the table to help clear it.

      “Kayla is a nice girl,” Trey confirmed. “But if you’ve got matchmaking on your mind, you’re going to be disappointed—I’m not looking to settle down yet, not with anybody.”

      “And even if he was, Kayla is hardly his type,” Claire noted.

      Levi’s brows lifted. “Trey has a type?”

      “Well, if he did, it wouldn’t be the shy wallflower type,” his wife said.

      “Still waters run deep,” their grandmother noted.

      “What’s that supposed to mean?” Trey asked warily.

      “It means that there’s a lot more to that girl than most people realize,” Melba said, setting an enormous apple pie on the table.

      Claire brought in the dessert plates and forks.

      “And ice cream,” her grandmother said. “Bekka’s going to want some ice cream.”

      “I think Bekka wants her bath and bed more than she wants ice cream,” Claire said, noting her daughter’s drooping eyelids.

      “Goodness, she’s falling asleep in her chair.”

      “My fault,” Levi said, pushing his chair away from the table and lifting his daughter from hers. “She missed her nap today when I took her to story time at the library.”

      “Didn’t I tell you to put her down as soon as you got back?” Claire asked.

      “You did,” he confirmed. “But every time I put her in her crib, she started to fuss.”

      “Why don’t you give in to me whenever I fuss?” his wife wanted to know.

      He kissed her softly. “Are you saying I don’t?”

      “Not all the time,” she said, a small smile on her lips as they headed out of the dining room.

      “I guess they’ve worked things out,” Trey mused, stabbing his fork into the generous slab of pie his grandmother set in front of him.

      “I really think they have,” Melba confirmed. “There will still be bumps in the road—no relationship is ever without them—but over the past few months, they’ve proven that they are committed to one another and their family.”

      “If the kid doesn’t want ice cream, no one else gets ice cream?” Gene grumbled, frowning at his naked pie.

      “You don’t need ice cream,” his wife told him.

      “You didn’t need those new gloves you came home with when you were out Christmas shopping last week, but you bought them anyway.”

      Trey fought against a smile as he got up to get the ice cream. His grandparents’ bickering was as familiar to him as the boarding house. They were both strong-willed and stubborn but, even after almost sixty years of marriage, there was an obvious affection between them that warmed his heart.

      After they’d finished dessert, his grandmother asked, “So what are your plans for the evening?”

      “Do they still show movies at the high school on Fridays?” Trey had spent more than a few evenings in the gymnasium, hanging with his friends or snuggling up to a pretty girl beneath banners that declared, “Go Grizzlies!” and had some fond memories of movie nights at the high school.

      “Friday and Saturday nights now,” she told him.

      “Two movie nights a week?” he teased. “And people say there’s nothing to do in Rust Creek Falls.”

      His grandmother narrowed her gaze. “We might not have all the fancy shops and services like Thunder Canyon, but we’ve got everything we need.”

      “You’re right,” he said. “I shouldn’t have implied that this town was lacking in any way—especially when two of my favorite people in the world live here.”

      She swatted him away with her tea towel. “Go on with you now. Take a shower, put on a nice shirt and get out of here.”

      Trey did as he was told, not only to please his grandmother but because it occurred to him that the high school was likely where Kayla and Natalie were headed.

       Chapter Three

      Kayla gazed critically at her reflection in the mirror and sighed as she tugged her favorite Henley-style shirt over her head again and relegated it to the too-tight pile. The nine pounds she’d gained were wreaking havoc with her wardrobe.

      Of course, it didn’t help that most of the styles were slim-fitting and she was no longer slim. Not that she was fat or even visibly pregnant, but it was apparent that she’d put on some weight, and covering her body in oversize garments at least let her disguise the fact that the weight was all in her belly.

      She picked up the Henley again, pulled it on, then put on a burgundy-and-navy plaid shirt over the top. Deciding that would work, she fixed her ponytail, dabbed on some lip gloss and grabbed her keys.

      “Where are you going tonight?” her mother asked when Kayla came down the stairs.

      She’d mentioned her plans at dinner—when she’d asked her dad if she could take his truck into town—but her mother obviously hadn’t been paying attention. Ever since Ryan put a ring on Kristen’s finger, her mother had been daydreaming about the wedding.

      “I’m meeting Natalie at the high school,” she said again. “We’re going to see A Christmas Story tonight.”

      “Is it just the two of you going?” her mother pressed.

      “No, I’m sure there will be lots of other people there.”

      “Really, Kayla, I don’t know why you can’t