Christmas With The Cowboy. Tina Radcliffe

she was finally standing in front of him, looking up at all six feet five inches of solid muscle.

      Zach offered a silent scrutiny, his expression shuttered.

      “Well?” she prompted.

      “Hi to you, too, Emma.” He nodded and stared at her. “Blinking reindeer earrings, huh?” His gaze moved to assess her holiday party outfit. “Interesting sweater.”

      She glanced down at the knit vest with the ornament embellishments. “Ugly sweater contest.”

      “I’m guessing you’re going to win.”

      When Zach winked, Emma’s eyes widened with surprise.

       Focus, Emma.

      She pushed the hair back from her face, setting her jingle bell bracelet into motion. The sound was a welcome distraction.

      “Nice bracelet,” he said.

      She began to smile and then remembered that she was annoyed. The man had bested her. Again.

      “So is it true? Are you staying?” she asked.

      “Who told you?”

      “The source is really not important.”

      “I’m working for Travis.”

      “You are so stubborn. You’ll work for Travis, though your knee says otherwise, but you refuse to even discuss RangePro.”

      When Zach just stared at her, Emma almost backed down from the stormy gaze. Instead, she stood her ground and refused to look away.

      “Could we call a truce on this whole RangePro thing? At least until the holidays are over?” he finally said. “I mean, isn’t this time of year supposed to reflect peace on earth? Goodwill to all men?” Zach paused. “Even me?”

      Emma wilted at his quote from the Bible. Suddenly, she recalled the kid next door forced to return home to an apathetic mother for the holidays when he longed to stay at his father’s ranch for Christmas.

      Ashamed of herself, she took a deep breath. Why was it the man brought out the cranky and uncharitable in her?

      Big Heart Ranch staff continued to enter the restaurant, pushing Emma closer to Zach as they tried to make their way to the banquet room.

      Emma stepped back, struggling to overcome with a smiling face and a positive attitude. “You’re right. I apologize.”

      “A holiday truce, then?”

      When Zach held out a hand, she nodded and stared at his hand, afraid to actually touch him. “A truce it is. The party is this way.” She started toward the back of the restaurant.

      “Excuse me, Emma,” a woman said from behind her.

      She turned. “Oh, Zach, this is Josee. One of our wranglers.”

      “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

      “Zach, is it?” the pretty blond-haired woman asked.

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Would you like to dance?”

      “Pardon me?” Zach’s eyes widened as his gaze skimmed the dance floor.

      “I wondered if you’d like to dance,” Josee repeated.

      “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I already promised this dance to Emma.”

      “Another time, then.” Josee smiled and looked from Zach to Emma with curiosity before she turned away.

      “You didn’t promise me this dance.”

      “I fully intended to.” Laughter filled his gray eyes. “Besides, isn’t this your favorite song?” he asked.

      Emma cocked her head. “That’s ‘Jingle Bell Rock.’”

      He held out his hand. The hand she’d avoided only minutes before.

      “As if you really want to dance,” Emma mumbled.

      “Are you going to turn me down in front of all these people?”

      Emma glanced around at the speculative gazes turned their way. He had her and he knew it.

      Leaving her no choice, Zach took her hand. “It’s a two-step,” he said. “Your other hand goes to my shoulder and then you step.”

      “I know how to dance.” She hesitantly placed her left hand on his shoulder. “What about your knee?”

      “Let me worry about my knee.”

      “But...”

      Zach shook his head. “You’re a substitute mother to sixty some kids at Big Heart Ranch. That’s plenty, don’t you think? Besides, I don’t need a momma.”

      “I... I...” What was he saying? Didn’t he realize that she could not concentrate on the conversation while her hand was enveloped in his?

      A long silence stretched between them as Emma worked hard not to tangle her feet and fall on her face.

      When Lucy walked past the dance floor and her gaze connected with Emma’s, her sister stopped and did a double take.

      “Lucy sure looks, um, ripe,” Zach said. “When’s she due?”

      “Christmas.”

      “Christmas. Everything seems to revolve around Christmas.”

      “Only for eight weeks of the year.”

      “Only eight weeks,” he murmured.

      Emma turned her head and stared at her hand in his. His hand was so large, yet hers seemed to fit perfectly.

      “This is quite the crowd,” he observed.

      “This is nothing. Wait until Thanksgiving.”

      “Was I supposed to bring a present?” Zach asked with a nod toward the guests who walked past with gifts tucked under their arms.

      “They’re fun white elephant exchanges. I brought extras.”

      He glanced toward the banquet room filling up with people. “Tell me about this Christmas party.”

      She shrugged. “It’s a party. Eat food, make merry. Mingle.”

      “I don’t—”

      “Mingle,” she finished for him. “Somehow I thought you might say that.” Emma sighed. “But you know Dutch and Tripp and Travis. Chat with them.”

      “Travis has his wife.” He raised his brows. “And it looks like they found the mistletoe.”

      She turned in Zach’s arms to see Travis kissing his new bride beneath the mistletoe that he had hung in the doorway of the banquet room.

      “Young love,” Emma said. “You know how it is.”

      “Can’t say that I do.” He glanced around. “Looks like the single men are outnumbered around here.”

      “That’s true. Tonight it’s just you, Tripp and Dutch.”

      “No dates invited?”

      “Dutch’s sweetheart is the ranch physician, General Rue Butterfield. Rue is out of town at the moment with a family emergency.”

      “And Tripp? What’s his story?”

      “Tripp? Oh, he’d never bring a date. He’s even more private than you are.”

      “Am I private?”

      “As locked up as a clam. If you want to pass the time, ask Dutch to tell you about the John Wayne impersonator he saw in Tulsa last week. By the time he finishes with his tall tale, dinner will be served, then we’ll get down to business.”

      “What