by Janet Dailey
Jubal’s seven-year-old daughter, Gracie, needs a mother, but he hasn’t found the perfect woman. Or maybe the problem is that he did find her, and had his heart broken when she left town. Gracie’s already falling hard for Ellie and that ball of fluff she calls a dog. And no matter how hard the rugged cowboy tries to resist, there’s no denying the appeal of first love and sweet new beginnings—especially when there’s a little Christmas magic in the air . . .
CHAPTER 1
LATE ON A CHILLY NOVEMBER DAY, ELLIE MARSDEN CAME HOME TO Branding Iron, Texas.
Driving her black BMW sedan along the two-lane road, she gazed across stubbled fields, dotted here and there with grazing cattle. Under a soot gray sky, scattered houses, barns, and silos rose out of a landscape that matched Ellie’s bleak mood.
San Francisco was behind her, most likely for good. For the foreseeable future, she was right back where she’d started—smack-dab in the middle of Nowhere, U.S.A.
When she’d left Branding Iron after high school, she’d vowed never to return except for brief visits to her mother. But now, ten years later, the small town had become her refuge. She had no place else to go.
A stray snowflake spattered the window as she neared the city limits sign. Just ahead, a worn dirt lane cut away from the asphalt. Ellie’s memory traced its path through fields and stands of cottonwood, to the swimming hole where, one moonlit summer night, she’d almost surrendered her virginity to Jubal McFarland.
They’d been crazy in love back then. But when he’d asked her to marry him, she hadn’t loved Jubal enough to spend the rest of her life herding cows on his family ranch. She’d turned him down and never looked back.
The last she’d heard of Jubal, he’d wed another local girl. By now he’d probably sired a brood of little blue-eyed McFarlands as handsome as he was.
And Ellie had gone off to law school and married cheating, lying Brent. End of story.
A plaintive yip broke into her musings. Harnessed into his booster basket, Beau, her white teacup poodle, was due for a potty stop. Ellie blew him an air kiss. “Hang on, boy,” she said. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. Then you can do your business on my mother’s nice, clean lawn.”
Beau yipped again, dancing in place as if to let her know he was getting anxious. Ellie pressed the gas pedal, pushing the speed limit. Beau was well trained, but his tiny bladder could only hold out for so long.
Lately, it seemed, she’d been experiencing a similar problem herself.
Feeling a solid thump, she glanced down at the rounded belly that barely cleared the steering wheel. Her unborn daughter was kicking up a storm. It wouldn’t have surprised Ellie to learn that she was carrying a future Olympic soccer star—as if anything could surprise her after discovering that she was not only divorced but pregnant.
Brent had never been keen on having children. He’d always used protection. But during their disastrous trial reconciliation last spring, the unimaginable had happened. Now Brent was married to one of his wealthy law clients, and blissfully unaware that he was about to become a father.
Forcing the memory aside, Ellie drove down Main Street, where, on this, the day after Thanksgiving, the traditional Christmas lights were already being strung between the lampposts. Christmas in Branding Iron would be a far cry from the holidays in San Francisco—the glittering shops, the glamorous gowns, the cocktail parties and charity galas, which Ellie had always enjoyed. But that life was behind her now. It was time she adjusted to her new reality.
For better or for worse, the prodigal daughter was home.
