The Cowboy's Christmas Gift

Because she was a damned fool, that was why. Truth was, everything she held dear was tied up in Crooked Valley Ranch. The fact that Duke had showed up had been nothing short of a blessing. He could be as crotchety as he liked, as long as he kept Crooked Valley running and her in a job.

She straightened her shoulders. “I guess I should get dressed, then. And put on some makeup.”

Kailey sat up. “That’s the spirit! You should wear that red shirt with the V-neck. And I’ll fishtail your hair. You’ve got way better hair than I have for that. The braid makes your summer sun streaks stand out.”

And so it was that less than an hour later, both girls walked into the Silver Dollar. It was busy already, and they had to wait for one of the tables on the perimeter of the scarred dance floor. The Dollar had once been an old barn that Cy Williamson had renovated. Right now the latest country hits echoed to the rafters, along with lots of chatter and laughter.

Carrie took off her coat and tugged at the neckline of her shirt. She’d let Kailey steamroll her and now felt conspicuous at the little bit of cleavage revealed by the V. She was wearing makeup, too, eye shadow and a bit of liner and mascara and lipstick, of all things.

Scott Johnson was staring over at their table and Carrie gave Kailey a kick. “You’re getting attention already. Jerkwad Johnson at two o’clock.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Kailey forced a smile. “Let’s get a beer and forget he’s there. First round’s on me.”

Kailey got up and went to the bar rather than waiting for one of the waitresses to make her way over. Carrie watched as several eyes fixed on her friend’s attractive figure as she leaned against the old wooden bar to give her order. She wondered if Kailey really knew how beautiful she was. No matter how dolled up Carrie got, when she was with Kailey she always felt a bit like the ugly stepsister—without the bad temperament.

The double doors opened again and Carrie froze.

In walked Quinn Solomon—he must have got a sitter for his daughter tonight—and Mr. Prodigal Grandson himself, Duke Duggan. Jumpin’ Judas, the man was good-looking. He smiled at something Quinn said and it made his face light up. His jeans fit his lean body just right and he wore a brown coat with a sheepskin collar that made his shoulders look impossibly broad. His boots were clean but not new, and he’d hidden his buzz-cut look beneath a brown hat.

Mercy.

Kailey returned to the table and put down two bottles of beer. “Mother McCree, who is that?” she asked, nudging Carrie’s arm with the cold bottle. “Whoo-eee.”

“My new boss,” Carrie replied drily, blindly reaching for the bottle. “Duke Duggan.”

“What? No way. I don’t remember him looking like that.”

“He was eight when he moved away,” Carrie reminded her. “You were six. Your memory might be a little foggy.”

“Right. Well. This changes the evening significantly.”

There was no reason on earth that Kailey’s words should inspire a flicker of jealousy, but they did. It was ridiculous. Carrie didn’t like Duke and had absolutely no claim on him. Why should she care if Kailey was interested?

As if he could feel their eyes watching him, he turned their way. She could tell when he looked at Kailey, because his eyes twinkled a little and he raised an eyebrow just a bit.

But then he looked directly at Carrie and her breath froze in her chest. The twinkle disappeared from his eyes, but they remained warm, and a smile touched his mouth. And then he lifted a finger and touched the brim of his hat before turning away and following Quinn to the bar.

Her breath came out in a hot rush. Oh, man. She was in big, big trouble. He was her boss. He was a pain in the butt. And he made her pulse race in a way it hadn’t in a very, very long time.

Chapter Two

Carrie was starting to feel as if her buddy had forsaken her. It was Kailey’s turn to drive, so after the first drink Kailey switched to cola and stayed there. They always took turns when they went out so one of them was a designated driver. It was their way of looking out for each other—the best sort of buddy system.

Except not only had Kailey coughed up the cash for the second round, she’d made sure that Carrie’s drink was a very stiff rum and cola, and then moved their seats closer to the other side of the bar—and closer to Duke.

The hard liquor on the heels of the beer already had her feeling a bit fuzzy, and it seemed as if without even trying she could hear Duke’s voice, deep and gravelly as he talked to a group of ranchers nearby. She tried not to look his way but couldn’t help it. She was intrigued. After their rough start the other day, she’d spent some time thinking about what his life had been like after he’d left Crooked Valley. She couldn’t imagine being taken away from the wide-open ranch land to the confined space of the city, but he had. He’d gone to city schools and not the K-12 school in Gibson, which only had one class for each grade. He’d visited here in the summers but not for years, and then he’d gone into the military. One thing she noticed was that while he was talking right along to Quinn and a few other local ranchers, he didn’t smile much. And he didn’t laugh.

In fact, Duke looked pretty darn somber as he focused intently on the conversation. Way too serious for a Friday night in a saloon with cold drinks and good boot-thumpin’ music.

“Do you suppose he realizes you’re staring at him?” Kailey asked.

“What?” Carrie turned back to her friend and felt her cheeks heat. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Sweetie, you know I don’t like to call you a liar, but...you’re a liar.”

“I wasn’t staring.” She looked Kailey dead in the eye. “Much.”

Kailey laughed, and sat back as a plate of assorted appetizers was placed in the middle of the table. “Thanks, Roy,” she said, smiling her best smile at the middle-aged man delivering the food.

He winked at her before turning back to weave through the tables to the kitchen.

Carrie had barely eaten her first onion ring when Kailey lifted her head, gave her curls a toss and called out, “Hey, Quinn! Why don’t you and your friend come join us?”

Carrie kicked her under the table. She knew the toe of her boot had hit its mark when Kailey winced, then pasted on the same bright smile.

“I’m gonna get you for this,” Carrie said as Quinn and Duke left their group and approached the table.

“Kailey.” Quinn smiled down at her. “Planning on stirring up some sawdust on the dance floor tonight?”

“Maybe,” she answered easily. Kailey and Quinn knew each other well. The two ranches backed on to each other and Kailey and Carrie had each taken turns babysitting Quinn’s daughter, Amber, occasionally. He was a good-looking, hardworking man, but they’d known each other too long. They were colleagues hanging out, that was all.

Duggan, on the other hand, was familiar but very, very new. Looking at him resulted in a much different sensation than the one she got looking at Quinn. Something went all jumpy and swirly in her stomach, especially when he looked over at her with that same unsmiling expression. He’d removed his coat and hung it on one of the hooks along the back wall, and his blue-and-white striped shirt gave a clear indication of the breadth of his chest and flatness of his stomach. She wondered if he had a six-pack hiding under there.

“Help yourself,” she offered, reaching for a jalapeño popper simply to keep her hands occupied. She took too big a bite, though, and the heat blasted her taste buds. To compensate, she reached for her glass and took a long gulp.

“Slow down, tiger.” His voice came from close beside her, and she turned her head, a little too quickly it seemed. His eyes were too close, and while he still wasn’t smiling, his eyes twinkled at her. Damned if he didn’t make her feel about fifteen years old with that indulgent gleam in his eyes. Duke Duggan was a bit too big for his britches, in her mind.

“So you do remember how to speak to me,” she said a little sharply. “I thought you’d forgotten this week.”

The amused gaze faded a bit. “Forgotten?”

“It seemed every time I passed you and offered a hello, you were either focused on Quinn or simply ignored me.”

He reached for a chicken wing. “Feelings hurt, Carrie?”

She didn’t want to admit they had been. “Naw. I sort of expected city manners after all.” She wasn’t sure why she was antagonizing him. She really was glad he’d come home, and so was everyone at Crooked Valley. He was the answer to all the uncertainty they’d felt since Joe died. There was just something about him that set her on edge—in more ways than one.

One of the waitresses was passing by and Carrie inclined her chin. “Hey, Suze, a round on me, okay?”

Kailey was grinning widely now. “Just soda for me, Susan.”

“I’ll have a beer,” Quinn said.

“Sweet tea,” Duke ordered. “And the round’s on me.”

“Oh, I insist.” Carrie smiled brightly. “Another rum and cola for me, please.”

But Duke pulled out his wallet before Carrie could unzip her small purse. “I’m not in the habit of letting employees buy me drinks,” he said quietly. Quinn and Kailey didn’t hear, but Carrie did. The man sure did have a way of making a girl feel small.

“Employees,” she replied tartly. “I guess Quinn and I know where we stand.”

His brows pulled together. “That’s not what I meant.”

She shrugged. “Whatever.” She reached for her chicken wing and didn’t worry about being dainty as she ate it, wiping her saucy fingers on a paper napkin when she was done. Susan came back with their drinks and she let Duke pay. Why not, if he wanted to? She wasn’t about to start a spitting match with him over a three-dollar beverage.

And just for spite, she picked up her drink and took a long, refreshing chug.

“So, Duke,” Kailey said, dipping her onion ring in ketchup. “Are you really planning on staying on at the ranch?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, finally smiling. Carrie nearly dropped her second chicken wing. When he smiled, it was devastating. His whole face changed, his lips curved and his eyes crinkled at the corners while the rest of his facial muscles relaxed. When he wasn’t brooding, he was incredibly attractive. And of course that smile had only blossomed on his face when Kailey addressed him. Jerk.

“Are you always going to go by that silly nickname?” Carrie asked, rolling her eyes a bit.

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m used to it. It’s all I’ve been called since I was six years old.” He turned away from her and smiled at Kailey. “When someone calls me Dustin, it makes me feel like my mom’s calling me out for doing something wrong.”

Carrie wiped her fingers and took another sip of her drink simply to hide her face. Duke suited him. Suited him better than Dustin. Dustin brought to mind a tall, gangly boy with thick, unruly hair and freckles. The man beside her was muscled, hard, 100 percent male, still with the hint of freckles under his tanned skin but with a no-nonsense military cut taming his cap of hair. More than that, it was his bearing. Solid and steady and a little bit dangerous. The kind of man you didn’t want to cross, but the sort you felt completely safe with, too.

Well, mostly safe.

She looked up and caught him watching her and her heart did that weird thump thing again, feeling as if it was banging up against her rib cage while she grew hot all over.

Maybe Kailey was right. Maybe it had been too long since she’d dated because she was definitely overreacting.

“So how’d you get the nickname anyway?” Quinn asked, reaching for a jalapeño.

Duke grinned. “When I was six, we spent the summer here and my grandmother put all of us in summer Bible school at the church. One day some kid was picking on my little sister. I cleaned his clock and told him never to bother her again.”

Everyone laughed a little, but Carrie wrinkled her nose. “That still doesn’t explain the name.”

Duke met her gaze. “You know Joe. He loved his John Wayne movies, and I sat through lots of showings of Rio Bravo. When the kid apologized to Lacey, I swaggered up to him, doing my best impression of the Duke, and drawled, ‘Sorry don’t get it done, dude.’ I’ve been called Duke ever since.”

Quinn and Kailey burst out laughing and even Carrie’s lips tilted a little at the cute story. Duke’s icy eyes warmed a little as they fell upon her and his face relaxed. He wasn’t the prettiest man she’d ever seen, but there was something about him that was charismatic. Sexy. Maybe it was his general aloofness blended with moments of charm. Whatever it was, Carrie wasn’t immune. Not even close.

A two-step that was popular on the radio these days came on the speakers and Carrie’s toe tapped along with the opening bars. “Hey, Quinn,” Kailey said loudly, to be heard over the music. “You wanna take a turn on the floor?”

Quinn smiled. “Why not?”

Carrie watched as Quinn and Kailey headed out to the sawdust-covered floor and started circling the perimeter with the other dancers. Kailey was laughing and Quinn was smiling. Carrie had once asked Kailey about why she didn’t date Quinn—they got along great. Kailey confessed that once, before Quinn met his wife, they’d gone out on a couple of dates and that kissing him was like kissing a brother. There just wasn’t any chemistry. Now that Quinn was a widower, they’d just stayed friends.

Carrie turned back to the table and her stomach flipped again. Duke was watching her, his gray-green eyes studying her as if he could see clear through her. She wasn’t sure if she liked the sensation or if it made her uncomfortable. Before she could decide, he took a drink of his iced tea. “So,” he said. “You and Kailey. She your wingman?”

Carrie nodded. “Yeah. Most of the time anyway. We’ve been friends a long time.”

“She’s a nice girl. I vaguely remember her from school.”

“She’s a bad influence,” Carrie admitted. “And I love her for it. She keeps me from getting too boring.”

“Are you boring, Carrie?”

She tried hard not to get lost in his eyes. “Occasionally. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

He took a drink of his soda. “You weren’t boring as a kid. Not as I recall anyway. I still remember the day in third grade when you put the frog in Jennifer Howard’s lunch box.”

Carrie couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of her mouth. “Oh, my gosh. I’d forgotten about that!”

“I’m sure Jennifer hasn’t. She gave you the stink eye for months. I don’t think I’ve ever heard quite that same combination of crying and grossing out since.”

She took another drink of rum and realized she needed to slow down. Carefully she put the glass back down on the table and stared at it for a few moments.

“So what changed?” Duke asked. “All work and no play? What turned that troublemaker into someone boring and responsible?”

Boring and responsible. When she’d looked at him talking to the other men earlier, those words had popped into her mind, too. Was it a case of pot meeting kettle?

She met his gaze and decided to be honest. It wasn’t as though it was a big secret after all. “My mom got sick just before I graduated. Breast cancer.”

“I’m sorry. Is she okay now?”

A lump formed in Carrie’s throat. “No. She got through the first occurrence with surgery and chemo. It came back, though, more aggressive than before. She died two years ago.”

“God.” Duke put his hand over hers for a few seconds. It was warm and rough. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have brought it up...”

“It’s okay.” She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but she was sure it wobbled a bit around the edges. “It is what it is, right?”

“You and your dad must miss her so much.” He slid his hand away.

And with that he scored another hit. Carrie absorbed the pain, knowing it was completely unintentional on his part. “My dad didn’t take it so well. He turned to the bottle when she was doing her first round of chemo and barely hung on during her treatment. When she was rediagnosed, he fell apart. He left, and I haven’t seen him since. In the end it was just Mom and me.”

She didn’t tell him to elicit his sympathy. She didn’t want people to feel sorry for her. She gave her shoulders a shrug, loosening them up. “Anyway, I guess I put away childish things when that happened.”

Yeah. Including disposable income. She’d gone from being a supportive daughter to assuming the mortgage for the house so the bank wouldn’t foreclose when her father quit making the payments. Not to mention the medical bills and keeping the lights on. The few evenings she spent at the Dollar was about as exciting as her life got.

“I’m really sorry,” he repeated. “How long have you been working at Crooked Valley?”

She smiled then, a genuine one, because she really did love her job. “Your grandfather hired me as a part-time hand when I was seventeen. I liked it so much I stayed on.”

“And now you’re my foreman. At thirty.”

She shrugged, not particularly caring for the reminder of her age. Kailey was twenty-eight and her mother was constantly asking when she was going to find a good man and settle down, that she wasn’t getting any younger. It was as though a woman hit thirty and it was all on the downhill slide.

She peered into his face. “What about you, Duke? What keeps you from smiling more?”

He didn’t answer, but he met her gaze and held it for a few long moments. “It’s a long story.”

She grinned. “It always is.”

“Then, let’s save it for another time.” He treated her to a rare smile, small, but definitely friendly. “This is getting a bit heavy. Maybe we should hit the dance floor instead.” He held out a hand.

Dance. With Duke. She blinked. The conversation had been serious, but the underlying attraction, at least on her part, was still there. Especially when he looked directly in her eyes like that.

“Um, okay.” Her throat felt dry, so she grabbed her glass and finished what was left in the bottom, mentally promising herself to get a glass of water after this dance. Then she put her hand in his and stood up, her heart beating a little bit faster as they weaved their way to the floor with the other two-steppers.

Quinn and Kailey shuffled by, their boots stirring up sawdust as Duke put his hand on her waist and his other clasped her palm. Before she had a chance to take a deep breath, he started them moving around the floor with the other dancers. Carrie made herself relax and settle into the steps; she didn’t want to trip over her own boots and look like an ass. Duke was a good dancer, smooth and even and confident, and with a change in pressure of his hand she knew to slide under and execute a smooth turn. When she was facing him again, he was smiling and the brilliant force of it nearly sucked the air from her lungs.

She was tipsy and dancing with her boss and thinking prurient thoughts about him. This was probably not the smartest thing to be doing on a Friday night.

They’d been late to the floor and the song ended not long after they’d begun dancing. They waited for the next, and Carrie was expecting something fast and fun. Instead the latest hot ballad boomed over the speakers and there was an awkward moment where they wondered whether to end the dance and go back to the table or carry through the next song.

“Care to?” His voice rumbled close to her ear again and she shivered.

“I guess,” she answered, giving a little nod.

The dance hold was different this time, more intimate. His wide palm rode along the small of her back and his fingers curled around hers as he held her close. His belt buckle grazed the button of her jeans as they moved their feet, and her breasts pressed lightly against his shirtfront. Duke’s shoulder was warm and hard beneath her fingertips—maybe he hadn’t been ranching, but there was no denying that what was beneath the material was rock-solid.

The song went on and they moved along the floor like every other couple, but Carrie felt different. The air between them was taut with possibility; each place where their bodies touched was hypersensitive. Duke pulled her closer and his fingers kneaded against the small of her back, barely an inch above her tailbone. It would only take the slightest movement for her to have her head curled against his shoulder, to taste the skin of his neck. Instead she closed her eyes and took in the scent of him—warm skin and whatever aftershave he wore and something that was distinctly Duke without her being able to label it.

“What are we doing?” she whispered, but he didn’t answer her. Instead his lips touched her temple, not quite a kiss but a deliberate contact—a caress—just the same.

Want spiraled through her. She wanted Duke Duggan. Wanted him to kiss her. Wanted to know what it felt like to have his hands on her. Wanted the rest of the people in the bar to disappear so they could have some privacy. This was crazy. She couldn’t ever remember having this sort of instant reaction to a man. Maybe Kailey was right. Maybe it had been too long a dry spell.

The song went on and her body vibrated with anticipation and need. It was pointless, since in about one minute the song would end, they would part ways and she’d go back to the table and attempt to cool off. With water. Not with more rum. Maybe that was part of the problem....

The final chorus was waning when Duke leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “A few minutes after the song ends, I’m going to make my excuses and leave. I’ll wait in my truck for ten minutes. If you want a drive home, I’ll take you.”

She snapped her head back and looked into his eyes. The fire that burned there made her weak in the knees. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Could it be possible that he was feeling the same connection she was—and asking her to do something about it? “Are you sure? This is complicated....”

His gaze dropped to her lips and then back up to her eyes. “It doesn’t have to be. Just two people cutting loose on a Friday night. Unless I misread the signals...”

She swallowed and shook her head quickly. “No...you didn’t. But...”

“I’m not in the market for a girlfriend,” he assured her, his hand squeezing at her hip. “Knowing that, if you want a drive home, meet me in the parking lot.”

The song ended. Duke stepped back and raised a finger to his hat. “Thanks for the dance, Carrie.”

She had to be out of her mind to even consider taking him up on his offer. Duke walked away, heading straight to the bar where he clapped Quinn on the back and ordered up another drink, looking entirely calm while her whole body was on high alert.

Carrie weaved her way back to the table where Kailey was waiting, virtually bouncing in her chair.

“Oh, my God. You and Duke were smokin’ out there! What the heck?”

“We just danced,” Carrie insisted, though she was still so keyed up she felt as if she might bust out of her skin.

“Just danced my eye. It was like electricity between you. Wow.”

“Shut up, Kailey.” Carrie didn’t know what to do. She was tempted, oh, so tempted by Duke’s unexpected offer. She was a thirty-year-old woman and her sex life was nonexistent. Here was a man, a gorgeous man, propositioning her for...for what? A night of mind-blowing sex? He’d made it clear he didn’t want a relationship. She wished she could be more blasé. She knew these things happened all the time. But they didn’t happen to her. Could she really do it?

It all sounded absolutely perfect except for two nagging thoughts. One, he was her boss. And two, she’d learned a long, long time ago that even the best-sounding ideas came with consequences. It was the consequences she tried to avoid.

A waitress stopped by the table and put down fresh drinks. “From the gentleman at the bar,” she said with a smile.

Carrie looked up. Duke met her gaze evenly and saluted her with his glass, then proceeded to drain his drink and, true to his word, headed for the door.

“What was all that about?” Kailey asked, sipping her soda through a pink straw.