by Liz Isaacson
“Pecan,” their dad rasped, and Betty handed the bowl to Laura.
“With lots of ice cream,” she said to her. “Okay, we’re going to go in age order. Oldest to youngest, so that makes my husband next.”
Patsy rolled her eyes, because that was just like Patsy. Serve her father and then her husband. After that, Joe got his treat, and Patsy deviated by giving his children what they wanted too. Patsy thought she could just as easily take a piece of pie from a plate as Betty could, but she helped get Angie situated at the large table in front of the back door, and she waited her turn.
She wasn’t the youngest, but Betty went ahead and let her girls go next, so Patsy ended up getting her pie last.
There was plenty of apple, the kind she liked best. It would almost be a crime if the Foxhills couldn’t make the best apple pie on the planet, so it was a good thing Betty could. Patsy could too. She just didn’t have as many opportunities as Betty did to show off her baking skills.
The conversation was easy as they talked about what they hoped to get for Christmas and what they’d be doing for the next week until school started again. Angie told Patsy all about the Christmas around the world stuff she’d done in kindergarten, and Patsy enjoyed the sense of family she felt here.
“I want hairspray,” Michelle said, glaring at Laura.
“Hairspray?” Patsy asked, glancing at the girls. “Your mom doesn’t get that for you? It’s like two dollars a can.”
“Hey,” Betty said. “Don’t judge me. Hairspray is a real commodity around our house.” She glared at Michelle and Laura. “We get enough every month. Some people just need to learn how to conserve it.”
“Yeah,” Michelle said. “And keep their sticky fingers out of other people’s bathrooms if they run out of their own hairspray.”
“I told you, I didn’t—”
“Girls,” Betty said with a sigh. “Do we have to argue about this on Christmas Eve?” She looked like she was poor picked-on Betty, and Patsy hated her oldest sister’s act. Since she lived up the canyon, she ordered a lot of her supplies online, and she could easily ship Michelle an extra can of hairspray once a month. Betty would never side with the younger girl, and everyone knew it. Laura, the oldest, was definitely Betty’s favorite, and she probably had stolen her younger sister’s hairspray and gotten away with it.
She helped clean up and helped her father back to his recliner. “How’s the lodge?” he asked, reaching over to pat her hand.
“Good,” she said. She came down to visit him alone sometimes, because it was easier to have a real conversation with him when Betty and her entourage wasn’t around. “How are you doing, Daddy?”
“Good,” he said. “This last round of chemo wasn’t bad. I think they might have found the right combination.”
“That’s great,” Patsy said. “I can take you to the doctor this week.”
“Oh, Betty’s going to do it,” Dad said, and Patsy pursed her lips and nodded. She needed to get going back to the lodge, but she decided to stay for just five more minutes.
“Hey,” Betty said from the formal living room in the front of the house. “There’s a big truck here.”
Patsy didn’t move, because no one would come here looking for her. No one had called or texted, and she watched Joe’s kids set up a checkerboard on the floor in front of her. Alan, the eight-year-old, was definitely the one with all the bossy Foxhill genes, but Angie let him claim the black checkers and put them on the squares just-so.
“Patsy,” Betty said, appearing in the doorway, her face flushed. “It’s for you.”
“What’s for me?” She let go of her father’s hand and stood up, confusion furrowing her brow.
“The door,” Betty said, her eyes wide and astonished.
Patsy hadn’t even heard the doorbell ring. Of course, Betty stood at the window like she expected a burglar to be creeping through the front yard. “Who is it?” Patsy started toward the only doorway leading into the front of the house.
Betty turned sideways to let her pass, and Patsy saw Cy standing just inside the front door, a delicious cowboy hat on his head, covering his long hair.
“What in the world are you doing here?” Patsy demanded.
“Can I talk to you for a sec?” He didn’t wait for her to answer before he turned and went out the front door. Laura looked at Patsy, and she could feel Betty’s eyes on her back too.
So she followed Cy, wondering how in the world he’d even figured out where her father lived.
Ohh…things are off to a great start, don’t you think?
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About Liz
Liz Isaacson is a USA Today bestselling author and a Top 20 Kindle All-Star Author. She is the author of the #1 bestselling Three Rivers Ranch Romance series, the #1 bestselling Horseshoe Home Ranch Romance series, the Brush Creek Brides series, the USA Today bestselling Steeple Ridge Romance series (Buttars Brothers novels), the Grape Seed Falls Romance series, the Christmas in Coral Canyon Romance series (Whittaker Brothers and Everett Sisters novels), the Quinn Valley Ranch Romance series, the Last Chance Ranch Romance series, and the Seven Sons Ranch in Three Rivers Romance series (Walker Brothers novels), and the Christmas as Whiskey Mountain Lodge Romance series (Hammond Brothers novels).
She writes inspirational romance, usually set in Texas and Montana, or anywhere else horses and cowboys exist. She lives in Utah, where she teaches elementary school, taxis her daughter to dance several times a week, and eats a lot of Ferrero Rocher while writing.
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HER COWBOY BILLIONAIRE BEST FRIEND’S BROTHER
Book Three in the Christmas at Whiskey Mountain Lodge Romance series
by Liz Isaacson
Copyright © 2020 by Elana Johnson, writing and doing business as Liz Isaacson
Published by AEJ Creative Works
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book can be reproduced in a
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