The Texan's Christmas. Tanya Michaels

to tell you—Bodie Williams is in town.” Another veteran of the rodeo circuit, Bodie had been a friend to both brothers. He’d never made it as high in the standings as Jacob or Daniel, though, and had quit for full-time ranch work.

      Daniel lowered his gaze, feeling suddenly guilty. “Yeah. Actually, he and I caught up at a sports bar Friday afternoon.” Bodie had shown him pictures of the ranch in Colorado where he worked. The Double F was hiring, and Bodie was willing to put in a good word on Daniel’s behalf with his new boss.

      If Daniel admitted that he was thinking about leaving, would Jacob support the move or try to talk him into staying? The two of them had always been close. After their mom’s death, they’d shared a kind of “us against the world” bond. But Jacob was raising a son now. He worked for the family company, had been accepted into the fold and would be married by this time next year. His life was moving forward in a clear direction.

      Daniel, on the other hand, felt increasingly out of place. For a while, success in the rodeo arena had given him some common ground with the other Barons. But between his injury and the way his siblings had been falling in love left and right...

      New Year’s was just around the corner. Wasn’t that a perfect time for resolutions and fresh starts? Maybe Daniel’s fresh start was in Colorado.

Chapter Two

      After a morning of phone tag and realizing that her friends were nervous about taking a baby out among holiday crowds, Nicole offered to meet Chris and Lizzie for lunch at their own home. It had seemed like a simple, low-stress solution.

      The Millers were both dark-haired and attractive, a well-matched couple. But right now, they both wore similar strained expressions. Nicole sat at the kitchen table, trying not to wince.

      “She’s not usually this fussy,” Lizzie said apologetically, pacing laps around the kitchen and trying to soothe the shrieking infant in her arms. “She should be napping, but she’s too tired to fall asleep.”

      Chris, who’d been pulling bowls out of a cabinet for their soup, studied his wife with protective concern. “You look like you could use a break. Why don’t you let me take her for a bit?”

      Lizzie passed along the pink-clad bundle, then got an oven mitt to lift the hot lid off the slow cooker. The tantalizing scent of homemade ham and bean soup filled the room.

      It smelled delicious, but Nicole felt guilty that the two busy parents had gone to any trouble. “I wish you’d let me bring something from the deli.” In the next room, Natalie was still crying, but it seemed less vehement now.

      Lizzie shook her head. “The soup was easy, I swear. And I’m not used to spending so much time at home. Don’t get me wrong, I adore the time with my daughter, but I still need to feel useful in other ways.”

      During a lull in the crying, they could hear the low murmur of Chris’s voice as he sang to the infant.

      Cocking her head, Lizzie paused to listen. “He is so good with her.” There was a wealth of love in her voice. Despite any frustrations like a baby who wouldn’t stop crying or the drastic changes to Lizzie’s schedule, she was obviously happy with her life. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe I’d planned to be a single mother. When I first told Chris I was pregnant, I wasn’t sure how involved he’d want to be—we weren’t exactly together at the time. But now, I can’t imagine my life without him. I don’t know how women do this alone.”

      Nicole swallowed hard. Raising a baby on her own was a daunting prospect. But people did it all the time, her own mother notwithstanding. Financially, Nicole was more fortunate than many, and she could afford to hire help. She hadn’t made this decision with the naive belief that it would be easy; she’d simply refused to let fear stop her from pursuing what she most wanted out of life.

      “You okay?” Lizzie asked, jolting Nicole from her thoughts.

      “Sure. Sorry. Distracted by work stuff,” she lied.

      Something shifted in Lizzie’s gaze, as if she were holding back a comment.

      “What is it?” Nicole prodded.

      “I... Maybe we should wait for Chris to come back. He was going to handle this.”

      “Handle what?” Nicole asked, her curiosity now at peak level.

      “Part of the reason we wanted to see you was to ask you about...” She sighed. “I don’t want to put you in a difficult position. AB Windpower is your employer. More specifically, Adele Black is your employer. I understand your loyalty is to her.”

      There was a shaky, emotional emphasis on the her. Lizzie didn’t sound as if she were just talking about a CEO of another energy company. Oh, God. Did Lizzie know Adele was her mother? Nicole hadn’t been prepared for that. If Lizzie confided in her, should Nicole admit she was already aware of the situation? That she’d known Adele’s relation to the Barons even before meeting Lizzie?

      By nature, Nicole was a forthright person. Skirting the truth didn’t come easily to her. Right now, she felt as if she were wearing a blinking neon sign that said Deception! Ulterior Motives! Rising Nausea!

      That last part overwhelmed her out of the blue. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply and willing it to pass. “Can you excuse me for a minute? I need to use the restroom.” She fought her instinct to sprint through their house, but only barely. She passed Chris at an impressive speed-walking clip.

      Though the baby’s cries had tapered, she was still putting up a fight. As Nicole pressed cold water to her face, she heard another howl. She could empathize. If she had to choose between allegiance to Adele and friendship with the Millers, she might cry, too.

      * * *

      DR. GREENE, A TALL, slim woman in her fifties, raised her eyebrows above her wire-rim glasses. “You’re awfully tense. Worried about the results of the surgery?”

      Daniel shook his head, feeling sheepish. “Medical facilities give me the heebie-jeebies. No offense, Doc.”

      “None taken.” She confirmed that he was doing the “passive” exercises she’d recommended and that he could make it through most days without pain medication. “All things considered, you’re healing nicely. But...even with the surgical reattachment of the ligament and the physical therapy you’ll be starting, your shoulder’s stability is compromised. I have a son your age. And if he were in the same situation, I’d ask him to think about quitting the rodeo circuit. Going forward, you’re in jeopardy of reinjuring your shoulder.”

      The idea of giving up rodeos wasn’t as upsetting as she might think. Although Daniel had worked hard to earn his ranking—sometimes even beating Jacob, who’d had a real shot at the National Finals—his career path had developed more from his environment than a conscious desire on his part. People called oil the family business, and God knew Baron Energies had made Brock plenty of money, but, until this year, it would have been equally true to say rodeo was the family business.

      His thoughts drifted to Bodie’s description of life at the Double F. Daniel enjoyed physical labor. Ranch work would allow him to continue being around livestock without the risks of trying to stay on Brahman or longhorn descendants specifically bred to buck.

      Thanking the doctor for her advice, Daniel promised to give it serious consideration. She told him he could pick up the referral paperwork for the therapist at the checkout window, then left him to put his shirt back on. He was glad not to be hampered by the sling anymore, anxious to start PT and rebuild his strength.

      When he returned to the waiting room, he spotted Carly in one of the padded seats, idly twisting a blond curl around her finger as she studied a bridal magazine. As he got close enough to see the hot-pink headline, he realized she was looking at a checklist. Damn, there were a lot of items! Surely checklists that detailed were necessary only for royal weddings.

      She glanced up with a smile. “All done?”