The Texan's Christmas by Linda Warren

grabbed beerout of the cooler, she noticed Kid on the wrong side of the bar. “Hey, who’s the hunk?”
    “Kid Hardin, and he’s fixing to leave.”
    “Damn. I’d like working with that kind of eye candy.”
    “You’re married…and remember Bubba Joe.”
    “So? I’m not dead.”
    Lucky let that pass. She had more important things on her mind. Like how to get Kid out of here without causing a scene. Her stomach roiled with a sick feeling but she ignored it.
    Luther pushed Fred Carter off his bar stool. Fred came up with his fists in the air. “Get another spot,” Luther said.
    “Uh…Luther, I didn’t know it was you.” Since Fred was of a small stature, Luther could pulverize him like a piece of steak. Fred worked for Luther, so he picked up his hat and joined a group at another table.
    Luther eased his big frame onto the stool facing Kid. Lucky edged closer to her gun. No one was fighting in here tonight. She just wished her stomach would settle down.
    “Hey, Luther.” Kid jumped right in. “I’m sorry I hit you last night. I lost my temper. You know I was always doing that in high school.”
    “You never knew how to fight fair.”
    “Hell, man, you were big as an ox and picking on poor Bubba Joe. I had to do something.”
    “You didn’t have to pull down my pants in front of Betty Simmons.”
    “You married her so I don’t see a problem. Maybe she got a glimpse of what she really wanted.”
    A rumble of laughter followed.
    “You’re insane, Hardin.” Luther was trying hard not to smile. “You’ve always been insane.”
    Kid rubbed his hand. “I think I broke my wrist on your steel jaw.”
    “Maybe that’ll teach you to think before you swing.”
    “Yep. Learned a lesson.” He glanced toward Bubba Joe who was standing in the doorway to the storeroom, close to his shotgun in case a fight broke out. “Bet you don’t pick on big Bubba anymore.”
    “Hell, no. He can bench-press me without any effort.” Luther’s eyes narrowed. “You working for Lucky now?”
    “No. I was apologizing to these guys for making an ass out of myself.” He thumbed to the cowboys. “How about if I buy everybody a round?”
    “Sounds good,” Luther replied.
    This time Lucky met him at the cooler, placing her hand on the handle. “What are you doing?”
    “Now don’t get upset.” His brown eyes twinkled like she remembered and her heart fluttered crazily. “Too late.”
    “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be out of here.” He touched her hand and she jerked it away.
    “Don’t touch me.” She took a long breath, knowing she was fighting a losing battle with her emotions. “You have a few minutes and then I want you to be invisible.”
    “Come on, Lucky, invisible is really hard to do.” Heshot her a cocky grin and not hitting him was even harder not to do.
    “Do it.” She grabbed the beers and handed them to him, careful that their hands didn’t touch.
    He winked…again! She gritted her teeth.
    “Where y’all from?” Luther was asking the cowboys and she forced her attention there.
    “Around Cameron,” Clyde replied. “We work cattle for people.”
    Kid placed the beers in front of them, but the conversation didn’t stop.
    “Ain’t much money in that,” Luther remarked, taking a swig from the bottle.
    “We get by.”
    Frank slid in beside Luther. “Did y’all hear that rustlers took three of Judd Calhoun’s prized cows?”
    “You shitting me.” Clearly Luther hadn’t heard.
    “Who’s Judd Calhoun?” Clyde asked.
    “Owner of the Southern Cross ranch, a big spread,” Luther told him.
    “Is rustling big around here?” Kid joined the conversation.
    “It has been lately.” Frank motioned for a beer and Bubba served him. “But they’d been targeting small places until last night. Hitting the Southern Cross was a bold move.”
    “Only an idiot would make that kind of mistake.” Kid leaned on the counter, talking as if they were good friends.
    “Are you sure