by Alexa Verde
SHOW ME A FAMILY FOR CHRISTMAS
Cowboy Crossing Romances Book 6
By Alexa Verde
Copyright © 2021 by Olga Grun writing as Alexa Verde
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, posted on any website, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without written permission from the publisher, except for brief quotations in reviews and articles.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Editing by Deirdre Lockhart at Brilliant Cut Editing.
Cover by Julia Gussman at https://sweetlibertydesigns.com/
Table of Contents
Dedication
About the Book
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Renate, a wonderful reader and a friend. I love your wisdom, your encouragement, and your knowledge and am grateful forever for all support you’ve given me.
About the Book
A brokenhearted widower with a sad daughter. A secret bodyguard working as a nanny. Can they become an unlikely family this Christmas?
Since his wife died, all Conner Strauss wants is a big family, other children who might put a smile back on his little girl’s face. His wish might come true when his mother finally tells him who his biological father was. To get close to his new siblings and their children without giving himself away, he starts courting the family nanny.
Once jilted, Gwendolyn Meyers concentrated on her career as a bodyguard, eager to prove she’s just as good as her late father was. Now, as a simple favor to a friend, she’s working undercover as a nanny to protect the Clark family’s children after strange things started happening on Mending Hearts Ranch. But when a stranger in town sparks her interest and his lonely daughter rouses her compassion, she might be given the chance at happiness where she least expected it.
When she starts seeing shadows of her past, she’s determined to find the truth behind her father’s death. However, someone close to her is even more determined to keep secrets hidden forever....
Can love and a big noisy family heal two broken hearts this Christmas?
From Alexa: I had an idea to write this book before Jenna’s story, so there is an overlapping timeline. This book starts a few weeks before Christmas, before Connor, Gwendolyn and Daisy appear in Jenna’s story. I hope I won’t cause any confusion, and I hope you’ll enjoy their story.
Chapter One
This quiet small town decorated with garlands around lampposts and gigantic snowflakes in shop windows could be charming for some people.
Conner Strauss wasn’t one of those people.
His gut tightening, he recalled the opulent mansion belonging to the wealthiest family in town—the family who owned all the land the eye could see here.
The mansion he should’ve grown up in.
The land that should’ve belonged to his daughter, too.
If his biological father hadn’t abandoned their family. If it hadn’t taken Conner’s mother nearly forty years to tell him who his father was. She probably never would’ve broken her silence if she hadn’t suffered that genetic disease scare.
The tightness in his gut squeezed further as he made a turn and Christmas lights on every storefront mocked him with their festive mood.
It was only a few weeks before Christmas. All his life he’d known he’d been a mistake on his mother’s part. Even more in the eyes of the man who didn’t want to acknowledge that mistake in front of his real family. But how could he refuse when Conner’s family had been in dire need, not once but three times? That cruelty had cost lives.
The frosty fresh air did nothing to calm his raw nerves.
Pain sliced him as he slowed for an upcoming bump. His daughter could be easily startled. Once upon a time, he’d wanted justice, then revenge. Now he needed hope and information.
Not for him, but for his little girl. One genetic disease scare in the family was more than enough.
Foisting off a smile, he glanced back. “Are you okay there, Sweetie Pie?”
“Yes, Daddy. I wanna apple turnover for breakfast. Can we?” The impish smile on his favorite face in the world warmed Conner.
“We sure can.”
Fine, it was far from a healthy breakfast, but so were most of those sugary cereals other children ate. At least breakfast was usually healthy in their house. Fruits, yogurt, oatmeal, scrambled eggs. He did try his best.
He returned his attention to the road and put the pastry store’s address in the GPS.
Then his fingers squeezed the steering wheel, pressing in deep. He didn’t need the wealth of a family who’d never been interested in him. He’d done well for himself, first as a foreman, then as a gallery manager.
But he didn’t want Daisy to grow up lonely like he had, spending more time with horses than with people. Besides, who’d take care of his precious girl if something happened to him? And, after his mother’s genetic illness, he needed to know whether his girl had anything else in her medical history to watch out for, to prevent from getting serious.
It was bad enough that he didn’t prevent...
No, better not to think about it.
First, however, he had to make sure the Clarks weren’t as cruel as his father was. Conner’s eyes narrowed. Having Daisy’s mother die and her family shut off his little girl was devastating. No way would Conner subject his daughter to further abandonment, further knowing she was unwanted.
His heart ached every time he thought about it.
He parked his rental truck near the pastry store and lifted his daughter from the harnessed booster seat in the back. Then he tugged down her cute multicolored knit hat with a pompom nearly as large as the hat and pulled the hood outlined in faux fur on her head for good measure. Mid-December was cold, even in Houston, Texas, where they lived, much more in Missouri. The gray sky hung low and heavy as if in solidarity with his mood.
“Ready, Sweetie Pie?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She smiled shyly up at him.
Unlike Annika, who’d had an outgoing personality, Daisy had always been shy. She had difficulty engaging with other children. Visits to the child psychologist didn’t help much, but the woman had suggested that having Daisy spend time with cousins or other family members would help.
The issue was that Daisy and her cousins didn’t know about each other’s existence, and neither did their parents. Tha
t was about to change—after he’d researched whether the Clarks could be trusted, of course. He’d been deceived and disappointed too many times not to know better now than to trust strangers, even if they were blood related.
“Let’s go then.” He pressed playfully on her upturned nose and made sure her scarf was tied tight but not too tight.
Her tiny hand in his, they approached the store. Warm air rushed out to greet them, drawing them in and wrapping them in a homey hug scented with just-brewed coffee, pumpkin spice latte, and freshly baked desserts.
His stomach grumbled. The aromas mixed with the scent of pine needles emanating from fragrant branches forming centerpieces on the round tables. Tablecloths with holly patterns draped those tables, and a myriad of snowflakes danced close to the ceiling above the snowmen cutouts decorating the walls.
Annika would’ve loved it here. She’d loved all things Christmas, had gone all out every year with decorations and baking German Christmas desserts. The pain of missing her was always sharper during the holidays.
His gaze stopped on the Black Forest cake, a fruit bread with nuts, spices, and candied fruit called stollen, and the German chocolate cake on the display. He wanted to close his eyes.
But if he did, he’d only see her face.
Then again, he saw her face every day in their daughter, Annika’s spitting image, the large brown eyes, the slightly upturned nose. His throat constricted as his fingers tightened around Daisy’s little palm while they approached the counter.
Two elderly ladies, the only others in line, looked at him and his girl. They’d clearly pegged him as a newcomer.
An outsider.
Story of his life, first as a maid’s son among well-off ranchers’ children and now as an art gallery manager where he didn’t belong.
He felt... stuck.
Stuck within four walls while he loved open spaces. Stuck in suffocating crisp shirts and tailored suits when he preferred Wrangler shirts and jeans. Stuck with a forced smile, chatting up potential clients or praising famous artists when he wanted quiet. Okay, he’d relegated that duty to his assistant, more often than not retreating into his grouchy self.
Yes, he was an outsider. And an outsider was something he’d never wanted his child to be.
He resisted the urge to clench his teeth and lifted his daughter so she could better see all the choices behind the counter. “Would you like anything else?”
She shook her head.
Okay then. He placed her on the tile floor. “Two apple turnovers, please.”
Daisy’s eyes widened. “Daddy, but what are you going to eat?”
Conner chuckled. “Make it three apple turnovers, please. What would you like to drink, Sweetie Pie?”
She scrunched her nose in a manner he found endearing. “Apple juice.”
He ordered that and a latte for himself. As he paid for the pastries and drinks, the bell over the door jingled, and a woman with three children came in. Since he’d researched online, he knew who she was.
Gwendolyn Meyers, the Clark family’s nanny. His heartbeat increased. She might be his ticket in.
No one knew people’s secrets better than someone who worked for them. He’d overheard his mother, who’d worked as a maid most of her life, telling her friends things that made them gasp. Rich people seemed to consider maids invisible, part of the wall, and didn’t realize “part of the wall” had great hearing and even better eyesight.
Nannies could be the same. And if the Clark family were as snobbish and disrespectful as their late patriarch, Gwendolyn could be a disgruntled employee.
A valuable source.
A twinge made him wince. He’d never used people for his purposes. But the reason for his intentions was looking at him right now with big, trusting eyes as he placed their food on the table and helped her up on the chair.
Once he removed Daisy’s warm coat, he stole a glance at Gwendolyn. Her expression was slightly pained as the three children shouted their orders. It probably didn’t help that each one was tugging at her sleeve and the little girl with pigtails of nearly the same hue as his daughter’s hair was changing her mind for the fifth time.
Gwendolyn was pleasantly plump, and her clothes were a mixture of grayish colors as if she tried to blend into the background—like part of the wall indeed. Dark reddish-brown hair framed her round face in messy waves. Dangling mismatched earrings—one several silver teardrops and one glittery golden hearts—danced in her ears as her head moved swiftly, turning from one child to another. Her makeup, if she wore any, was subtle.
She looked about forty, but the freckles speckling her nose and cheeks—like sprinkles covered the Christmas cookies on display—gave her a more youthful look. Remnants of a snowball melted into the back of her blazer, probably from the children getting into a snowball fight earlier.
Then she smiled at the two boys and the girl, suggested they point to the things they wanted, and initiated the game, “Whoever says the first word will lose”—which insured immediate silence.
He took a sip of his pumpkin spice latte and moved the pastry plate toward his daughter. Daisy was a slow eater, which had created issues in daycare where she was always the last one to finish her meal. He’d hired a babysitter after a daycare teacher had yelled at Daisy to hurry up, and he’d barely suppressed his anger after finding it out.
He found his daughter watching the girl with the pigtails. He recalled his research again. Danica Clark. Danica and Daisy. If the two girls ended up spending time together, things could get confusing.
Dressed in a canary-yellow coat and matching boots, Danica resembled a spot of sunshine that didn’t want to stay still. He imagined if Gwendolyn blinked, she’d be searching for Danica through the entire town. Probably neighboring towns, too.
But most likely, the cat ears on Danica’s knit hat attracted Daisy’s attention. She’d been asking for a “kitty” for a while. He’d give up his life for her, but when he thought about a cat, the image of the one running across the road always appeared in front of him.
The screech of tires. The scream. The pain. The scent of burning rubber before he passed out.
He took a deep breath of air scented with pine needles and pastries to bring himself to reality.
As Gwendolyn struggled with dessert boxes and paper cups, he gave his daughter a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.” Daisy took a tiny bite of apple turnover.
He hurried to the counter. “Let me help.”
A sigh escaped Gwendolyn’s pink lips as she herded the children to a table. “Thank you.”
“I’ll carry it!” Danica reached for the orange juice cup.
He placed the dessert boxes on a table near his, then strode back to the counter to pick up Gwendolyn’s caramel macchiato.
“Noooo!” Danica shrieked behind his back.
As he pivoted back toward the table, he slipped on the tile, and the drink that once had been his favorite flew into the air. From his horse riding lessons, he’d learned how to fall without hurting himself, but that didn’t stop him from landing on the floor.
“Daddy!” Daisy screamed.
“I’m okay. I’m okay, Sweetie Pie.” He’d constantly had to reassure her that he was fine and wasn’t going anywhere. After all, she only had one parent to rely on.
“Sorry if I scared you.” Danica gave him an apologetic smile. “I spilled the orange juice.”
“I’ll clean it.” The woman behind the counter came over with napkins.
“It’s no biggie. The only place that’s hurt is my dignity.” He pushed himself to his feet just as Gwendolyn leaned down and offered him her hand.
Up close, her large eyes were a warm shade of honey with crystalline dots in them, and his heart made a strange movement.
Those eyes widened as if... as if she felt something. Then she looked away. He glanced at the floor, expecting to see the macchiato there and ready to buy her a new one. But it wasn’t the
re.
It was... on the table.
Huh.
So she’d caught it. She must have quick reactions, but then that might be a necessary skill while working with children.
“Well, I guess we got the embarrassing part of the introduction out.” He pulled out chairs for everyone, then sat in his chair again, but faced it toward the group.
He curved his lips up with an effort, wishing he’d shaved today. The beard made him look like the grouch he was. At least he didn’t look like a Sasquatch—yet—but he was moving in that direction.
Well, apparently, he didn’t scare off the children who eyed him and his daughter with curiosity.
“My daughter and I are new in town. Is there a place here that’s fun for kids?” The sweet liquid soured in his stomach. This woman seemed kind and naïve, and he didn’t want to deceive her. A pang of conscience made him wince.
Then, as his daughter seemed to recoil into herself at the sight of other children, he reminded himself that, if Daisy ever had to go into foster care, she wouldn’t survive.
She’d need a family to take care of her, and there was a chance the Clark family could turn out to be a good one. Not all rich people were snobs like his biological father or Annika’s parents. Despite inheriting an art gallery from her grandmother, Annika was one of the kindest people he’d ever met.
“Sure.” Gwendolyn smiled at him, and for some reason, his heart skipped a beat. “The park is great in better weather. Christmas lights are fun to look at.”
Daisy took another bite of her apple turnover and chewed slowly. Then she whispered, “Daddy, can we go to the park? I wanna build a snowman.”
His rib cage constricted at the memory of him and Annika building a snowman, Annika laughing, deliriously happy.
Next to Gwendolyn, Danica perked up. “Yeah! We’re gonna go to the park today, too. Right, Miss Gwendolyn?”
Gwendolyn blinked as if realizing her mistake. “We are?”
The woman at the counter waved at them. “That’s a great idea. I’m sure this nice man over here and his little girl could use some company. We’re a friendly town, after all.”
