Yuletide Cowboy by Debra Clopton Page B

normal. “Then while you boys are finishing up I’ll go start on that.” She should have already started it, but she’d been unable to walk away from hanging the lights.
    It was nice seeing her boys with a good man. The neighbors had helped with several projects at the shelter. Men like Dan Dawson, who’d lived in a shelter growing up, came by to play football and hang out. And others like Mule Hollow deputy Zane Cantrell spent time withthe boys, especially after he’d married Rose, who’d lived in the shelter with them. And there were all the others like Clint Matlock, Pace Gentry and Cort Wells who helped the boys with their riding skills. The list went on and on. Mule Hollow was full of great cowboys and everyone she’d thought about was now happily married to friends of hers. The single guys came around too, and it never failed to bless her soul to see men willing to mentor kids who weren’t lucky enough to have a man in their life. It was special.
    So why, she asked herself with one last glance before heading inside, did it seem her boys had latched on to Chance Turner like they’d never before latched on to any one?
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    Chance was having a hard time concentrating. He’d helped with the lights and had a blast with the boys. They were quick learners and interested in everything. While Lynn had cooked supper they’d taken him to the backyard tree house. Chance didn’t want to think or say anything derogatory but there was no denying that they needed an intervention.
    He’d crossed his arms and studied the poor thing. The boys flanked him and he bit back a laugh when he realized they were copying his own stance.
    How easy it was to influence those around you. He’d made a lot of mistakes in his rebellious wild days, during the beginning of his riding career. It had taken one fateful night—a bar brawl had gone bad and a drunk had pulled a knife on him and a riding buddy. Thankfully, his buddy had lived after being stabbed and in the emergency room Chance had come to know the Lord.That E.R. doctor had intervened in more than a physical crisis. He’d also stepped in and brought Chance to his knees before the Lord. Ever since then, Chance had tried his best to be the man that God had intended for him to be. He’d wanted to be like Doc Stone…a man who stood in the gap and boldly told others about God.
    He’d made plenty of mistakes along the way. But that hadn’t stopped him from trying, striving to be a man of integrity, one the rough-and-tumble riders could see living his witness, day in and day out.
    Looking at the boys standing beside him gave him a reprieve from the feeling of failure that had weighed on his shoulders since Randy’s death. He knew it was temporary and undeserved, but he wasn’t able to walk away from these two without offering to help them on the tree house, too. Even if the solitude he craved called to him back at the stagecoach house.
    â€œIt’s a sad situation, ain’t it,” Gavin said, solemnly.
    â€œHopeless,” Jack sighed heavily.
    Even Tiny looked depressed about the scary way the boards tilted between the tree limbs.
    â€œIt’s not hopeless.” All three—dog included—looked at him with hope. There was no way he couldn’t help. No way. “All it’s going to take is a little know-how. Your momma has never built one of these before, but I’d give her an A for effort anyway.”
    â€œYeah, she tried.” Gavin let out a long sigh.
    â€œYou did um, ain’t ya,” Jack said, sounding more and more like Applegate.
    â€œYes, I have, Jack. But my first one was a disaster, too.”
    â€œWorse than ours?”
    Chance laughed. “Yes, Jack. Worse than yours. But, see, my uncle had to come help me and my cousin Cole rebuild it. We couldn’t do it on our own.”
    â€œYour uncle helped you. Not your dad?” Gavin was studying him,