A Cowboy for Christmas by Lori Wilde Page A

he’d just thrown her a lifeline when she was going down for the third time. “Thank you, Rafferty.”
    â€œSee,” he said. “Was that so hard?”
    Hard.
    Poor choice of words considering what was going on in his body.
    â€œGo on.” He motioned her toward the house. “I’ve got the boy.”
    She nodded, headed toward the house. Halfway there, she stopped and glanced back at him.
    Rafferty had Kyle in his arms by then, the boy’s little hands clutching his collar. “Move, Mama Hen. All is well here.”
    A bemused smile crossed her lips. For a split second she actually looked happy. He’d made her happy. He smiled back, but she ducked her head and hurried into the house, and that’s when he knew he was going have to be very careful. Because he liked her.
    Too damn much.

Chapter Six
    A sexy cowboy was showering in her guest bathroom.
    Lissette allowed that erotic image to flit through her head as she sat at her bedroom vanity blow-drying her hair. Kyle lay stretched out on his belly near her feet, legs swinging back and forth in the air as he ran the wheels of a red plastic fire engine over the hardwood floor. Above the sound of the blow dryer, she heard the hot water pipes vibrating inside the walls, the downside of owning a hundred-year-old home.
    Rafferty. A stranger. Naked.
    She thought of that moment in the cab of the truck when she had been almost certain that Rafferty was going to kiss her and she had just sat there, a small part of her wanting him to kiss her. Was she that hungry for a man’s attention? Seriously, was she that messed up?
    Thankfully, she’d been wrong about the kiss. He’d simply wiped mud from her cheek. Ha! So much for her silly ego.
    She blew out her breath. If her neighbors knew she was thinking such things they would be scandalized. Some might say she shouldn’t care what others thought of her, and she wished she had feathers so she could let opinions slide off her like water off a duck’s back, but the truth was she treasured her social community. She’d found a home here in Jubilee and she hated upsetting the status quo.
    This attitude used to bamboozle Jake. “Stop trying to please everyone, Lissette. Please yourself, dammit.”
    But when she dared to voice a strong opinion around him, he’d dismiss it out of hand—unless it was something he wanted or agreed with. To keep the peace, she’d learned to read his desires and reflect them back to him. She’d cut off pieces of herself in order to be with him. Denying what she needed just to avoid stirring the pot. Since he’d died, she felt a wondrous awakening as if anything was possible if she was brave enough to dig deep and do the work to find out what it really was that she wanted. She hadn’t dared yet take those steps and now Kyle was in trouble and she no longer had the luxury of self-exploration. Her son came first. Always.
    She was grateful for Rafferty.
    Yes, grateful. Because for several miraculous minutes this evening—most notably when Rafferty had straddled her in the mud—she’d forgotten that her little boy was deaf. He’d gotten her out of her mind, lifted the heavy fog that had engulfed her since learning of Kyle’s diagnosis.
    But the tiny respite had passed. Vanished along with the fleeting attraction she’d felt for Rafferty during those insane seconds. Reality was back, big and ugly. She had to call her parents and Claudia and give them the sad news. Her gaze traced over her son. He looked so perfect. How could he be broken?
    Impossible, and yet she knew it was true. No amount of denial or diversion could change the fact that Kyle was losing his hearing.
    The same anguish that had hit her that morning was back and packing a mind-numbing wallop, desperate and dark, plucking at her like fingers on guitar strings coaxing out a mournful melody.
    She flicked off the blow dryer, set it aside, and