True-Blue Cowboy Christmas by Nicole Helm

on her knees and opened her mouth, he handed over the pickles on his sandwich without a second thought.
    Dad chuckled and Thack glared at him. “What are you laughing at?” he muttered.
    â€œNothin’.” Dad brought the harmonica to his lips and played a few notes, something Thack thought he recognized, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to try to figure it out. When Dad grinned, Thack knew for a fact he didn’t want to know. Whatever that song was, the answer was only going to piss him off.
    â€œPlay more, Grandpa! Daddy, can we watch The Little Mermaid tonight? You said for the three-day weekend we could stay up late.”
    Thack all but choked on the bite of sandwich he’d taken, finally recognizing the snatch of the tune.
    â€œKiss the Girl.”
    He forced himself to stare at the sandwich. He would not look at Summer. He would not let on he’d recognized the song.
    â€œSure,” he muttered to Kate, choking down the rest of his sandwich. Best to get out of here before things got weirder. “Make sure Grandpa gets out the VCR this afternoon.”
    â€œYou barely took a breath between bites, boy. In that big of a hurry?” Dad clouded the question with concern, but Thack could hear his father’s laughter underneath the question.
    â€œBusy day. Gotta finish inventory and do a ride around.” It was an unnecessary explanation. Dad knew exactly what needed to be done. “I’ll be back for dinner.”
    He just needed some space. To recalibrate. Change always required a little adjustment period.

Chapter 9
    Summer had dinner in the oven half an hour later than she’d planned. The living room was a mess of feathers and glitter because she’d thought a little craft project would be quick and easy to do with Kate. Mr. Lane had suggested it before he started napping in a chair in the living room.
    He’d tried to be sly, but Summer didn’t miss the little oxygen tank he was trying to hide behind the recliner. When she had her head down with Kate, he’d place the mask over his face and breathe into it—but the minute she moved even an inch, he’d shove the mask back out of view.
    Summer had been so distracted by that , and by keeping Kate occupied while still being around Mr. Lane, and not letting Kate out of her sight, and trying to keep things tidy, that dinner had completely gone out of her mind until nearly five.
    What had started so easily, so perfectly was falling apart. She was falling apart. But she had to keep it together because Kate and Mr. Lane were sitting at the kitchen table doing a puzzle while she frantically shoved her carefully planned chicken dish into the oven.
    Mr. Lane had said Thack always came in for dinner between five fifteen and five thirty, unless there was cow trouble, and Summer prayed fervently for that kind of delay.
    She set the timer and winced when the front door creaked open. Neither Kate nor Mr. Lane seemed to notice, but they probably hadn’t been listening for the footsteps of doom.
    He’d been so…shocked and impressed at lunch. She’d felt like a queen. On top of the world. Now…
    She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the fresh wave of embarrassment and disappointment. She was being so foolish. He could hardly blame her for a little mess and a late dinner, especially when she’d been entertaining two people all afternoon.
    And yet, his surprise and awe this afternoon had been wonderful. She’d felt like she’d won some kind of lottery.
    And you liked the way he stared at you.
    Summer scoffed at the unbidden inner thought. He had not. Sure, she’d felt a little skitter across her skin, that rash-like feeling from the other day. Only without irritation behind it, the tickle on her arms hadn’t felt so much like a rash.
    It felt like a caress. The kind you actually wanted.
    â€œWell, the living room is full of feathers and glitter. Let me