The Prodigal's Christmas Reunion. Kathryn Springer

when she’d repeated the comment.

      “First we get a town named after us and now a color. What’s next? A mountain range? A national monument?”

       “There’s nothing wrong with the name Clayton.” Erin had given him a playful swat on the arm.

       Lucas had smiled that slow smile that never failed to melt her heart like butter in a hot skillet. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

       Erin had been afraid to read too much into the statement. Until Lucas had leaned forward and kissed her.

       Her first kiss…

       Don’t. Look. Back.

       Erin silently repeated the words. Lucas Clayton happened to be part of her past and, thanks to George Sr.’s will, an unexpected part of her present. But he was definitely not a part of her future.

       That’s what she needed to remember.

       “Lucas.” She flashed a polite smile—the same one that every cowboy who came into the café received with a cup of coffee.

       He drove a hand through his hair and snowflakes drifted down like bits of silver confetti. “I’m sorry it’s so late. Is Max ready to leave?”

       “He’s sound asleep.”

       “Right.” Lucas sighed. “He usually takes a nap around this time. I’ll carry him out to the truck.”

       Something in the weary slump of his shoulders tugged at her conscience.

       “Would you like to thaw out with a cup of coffee first?” Erin couldn’t believe she’d said the words. Out loud.

       And Lucas hesitated just long enough to make her wish she could take back the invitation.