Show Me a Family for Christmas : Small-Town Single-Father Cowboy Romance (Cowboy Crossing Romances Book 6)

by Alexa Verde

  Gwendolyn’s mouth slid into a perfect O. “But—”

  Danica slipped from her chair and marched to them, holding out a cookie on a napkin, her pigtails bouncing with the skip in her walk. “I’m Danica, and over there are my boyfriend, Nehemiah, and my cousin, Landon. Come with us to the park today.”

  Daisy just blinked at her.

  Danica didn’t seem to need an answer. She left the cookie on the table and hurried back with a grin as if after a job well done.

  Wow.

  This was much easier than he’d thought.

  People in small towns were too trusting. Or was this what small-town matchmaking looked like?

  He braced a hand on Daisy’s chair as she reached out for the cookie. “What do you think, Sweetie Pie?”

  “I like it.”

  He wasn’t sure whether she meant the dessert or the idea of joining Danica and her friends, but he gave Gwendolyn his best smile. Let’s hope she liked men with beards. “We don’t want to inconvenience you, but we could use some company. While I pride myself on being my daughter’s best friend, she might like to spend time with kids her age.”

  Something he couldn’t read flashed in the woman’s eyes, and her smile frayed at its edges. “Well, if you don’t mind the company of a dog, as well...”

  Daisy’s eyes widened, and she clapped. “A dog?”

  Well, then it was decided. Just like him, his shy daughter had found it easier to relate to animals than to people, though she preferred cats.

  He hurried to say, “Thank you so much. Oh, let me introduce my daughter and myself. I’m Conner, and this”—he rested his hand on his daughter’s shoulder—“is Daisy.”

  “I’m Gwendolyn. Great to meet you.” A smile illuminated her face, making it pretty in a girl-next-door way. Sweet and warm, just like the hue of her eyes or her freckles.

  A spark of attraction caused an irritating surprise. After Annika’s death, he wasn’t in the market for romance. Losing someone he’d loved had hurt too much.

  Besides, what would this soft-spoken woman think when she found out he used her to get information about the Clark family?

  Chapter Two

  The bell over the door rang again, and running to the woman who entered, the children cried out, “Auntie J!”

  She hugged them in turn, smiling, and waved at Gwendolyn.

  So this must be Jenna Clark.

  As she flicked long dark bangs from her eyes—electric-blue eyes—her gaze rested on him and sliced open his insides. Anger bubbled from those opened wounds like hot lava. It wasn’t just because of all the siblings she resembled their father the most.

  She didn’t resemble the relative he hated as much as the relative he loved, and that made looking at her more painful.

  The tall height, the challenge in her electric-blue eyes, the enviable confidence in her stride as she sauntered to the counter—even what he now recalled of her history of academic achievements before she’d skipped town—reminded him of Tara, his stepsister. Of the way he’d failed to help her and she’d run away.

  He suppressed a shudder and turned away so Jenna wouldn’t catch his expression and get suspicious. She was an investigator, after all.

  Even after Jenna left with her latte, her fresh, expensive scent and his sense of regret lingered.

  He’d begged his mother to ask for help from his biological father. After all, the man owed them for years of child support his mother refused to press for. Conner had needed to put Tara somewhere she’d be safe. When she’d disappeared, he was desperate to find her. But once again, his mother said the man refused to help them.

  Just like he’d refused to help when Conner’s little brother was sick and needed expensive surgery. Fine, those weren’t his father’s children. But Conner was. Didn’t his dad have the humanity to help desperate kids in a matter of life and death?

  Conner’s mother’s marriage in his teen years was a disaster. He could still feel the metallic taste of blood from the hit to his jaw when he’d tried to stand up for Tara, could still hear the wail of his tiny brother’s cries at night. A shiver ran through him as if he were in the apartment that was often cold because they’d always owed for electricity.

  Just imagining his daughter ever being treated like he and Tara were treated twisted his gut worse than those pretzels displayed on the counter.

  Guilt assailed him again. Guilt for being unable to protect his stepsister. Guilt for not saving his wife. Guilt for failing his little brother. Guilt for being born. He’d overheard his mother saying her life would’ve been so much easier if she hadn’t gotten pregnant with Conner.

  Then he squared his shoulders and plastered on a smile again for his daughter. “Are you doing okay, Sweetie Pie?”

  Okay, he smiled for Gwendolyn’s sake, too. No one would want to go on a date with someone filled fuller with regret than the clerk filled his cup with latte, ready to spill if he wasn’t careful, and burn the person close by.

  Man, guilt stung.

  He doubted that, after everything was said and done, Gwendolyn would still think it was great to meet him.

  * * *

  Gwendolyn was so not meant to be a nanny.

  She’d had to guard pets before—though many of those pets would disagree who’d guarded whom—and had worked protecting teenagers, seniors, and many ages in between. But taking care of children was a different matter.

  As she drove to the park with three children belting out the Christmas song on the radio at the top of their lungs—despite those lungs being relatively small—she wondered again why she’d taken on this job. The scent of french fries clung to the leather seats, though she’d searched high and low for any remnants of food.

  At least, the Newfoundland mix was in the truck bed, or she’d join in this attempt to make Gwendolyn’s ears bleed.

  She made a turn and suppressed a sigh. Okay, she knew the reason for taking this assignment all too well. Her friend Vera —and she’d had too few genuine friends—had asked her to help out and work as the children’s bodyguard undercover.

  That was what Gwendolyn was, really. She became a bodyguard like her father, skilled in weapons, martial arts, and foreign languages. Not a nanny! She’d never babysat siblings since her estranged sister was a year older than she was. Had never worked as a babysitter in school.

  A longing stirred her. She was so close to becoming part of the elite security company her father had once worked for. There could be a vacancy anytime. She could nearly taste her goal like she’d tasted the cookie in the pastry store. Instead, she was in a small Missouri town playing the uncomfortable role of a nanny.

  Her gaze moved to the rearview mirror.

  Then she tensed.

  Hadn’t the same older navy-blue sedan been two cars behind her when she’d stopped to get the children pastries? Her gaze zoomed in on the license plate. Snow covered it, and she didn’t like it one bit.

  A cold shiver traveled over her spine despite the warm air the heater spread comfortably through the truck cab. The sedan looked achingly familiar, not just the color, the make, the model, and those tinted windows.

  The decorations, too. Her father had often decorated his car—exactly like this one—with a red bow for Christmas. Another thing gave her shivers. A pennant for her father’s favorite football team hung on the antenna.

  She returned her attention to the road just in time to spot the traffic light.

  Red!

  She pressed on the brakes too fast. When the truck stopped, she jerked forward. Based on the yelp in the back seats, so did the children.

  Dara, the family Newfoundland, let out a howl.

  Ugh. She should’ve known better than to let ghosts from the past distract her. It could’ve been worse. Had she slammed on the brakes, the Newfoundland could’ve flown forward and landed on the rear windshield. She and the children loved that goofy dog too much to let that happen.

  “Sorry!” She glanced back. “Everyone okay?”
/>   Dara gave out a cheerful bark. Phew.

  “Yeah!” Three heads bobbed up and down. “Are we there yet?”

  “Almost.” She’d lost count of how many times she’d heard that question even on a five-minute drive.

  She moved forward on the green light and went slow. The car crept behind her without passing.

  The yelling—um, singing—resumed.

  She drew in a shaky breath and concentrated on the road as she slid her purse with her gun closer. The identical twin of a car was a coincidence. It had to be.

  Her guilty conscience couldn’t have conjured up the image. She’d had nightmares before, yes, but never hallucinations.

  Continuing her father’s legacy couldn’t make up for never finding the person who’d shot him. Being a heartsick teenager at the time didn’t excuse her. Her shoulders hunched against the guilt’s familiar pressure.

  If she hadn’t chosen dinner with a cute boy over hanging out with her father that evening, her dad might’ve still been alive.

  Overhead, the clouds seemed as leaden as the weight in her stomach. And okay, maybe she was on edge because it was so close to Christmas. Her father had been shot on the night before Christmas Eve, and no matter how many years had passed, she had difficulty getting in the spirit for the season.

  Forgive me, Lord.

  Another slow turn.

  Several cars passed her, one of the drivers asking her whether she was okay. A tractor could’ve passed her now. But the navy-blue sedan decided to crawl at a turtle’s speed, too. What in the world?

  The children interrupted yelling the next song long enough to ask, “Are we there yet?”

  “Soon.” She hoped.

  Finally, the dark-blue sedan moved by her, and relief whooshed out of her lungs. It signaled changing lanes as if winking at her like her father often had.

  Then her breath caught in her throat again. The bumper sticker...

  It showed allegiance to the same military branch her father had been in before he’d been honorably discharged and joined the security business.

  Hmm, and wasn’t it strange that the license plate in the back was plastered in snow, like the front one? It was as if someone had deliberately used it as a target for snowball practice, and the owner never cared to clean it.

  Another logical explanation could be that they didn’t want their car tracked down. She pursed her lips. Or maybe she’d been in the security business so long she’d become accustomed to being suspicious of everything.

  She suppressed a grimace as she sped up on the outskirts of town. She hadn’t wanted to go to the park because they’d be a much easier target in the open. Though her friend, Vera, had assured her things should be fine now, Gwendolyn wasn’t so sure. Yes, during a whirlwind romance with Maverick Clark, Vera had uncovered who’d been after him and caused his accident. Yes, she found the woman responsible for sabotaging the tractors and other vehicles. But other unanswered incidents still left Gwendolyn uneasy, so that car wasn’t helping her nerves.

  The next Christmas song ended, and she used the temporary quiet as she turned on the road leading to the park. “We’re almost there.”

  “Yay!” the children squealed, and Danica high-fived her boyfriend, then her cousin as if they’d never visited the park before.

  Gwendolyn smiled at their enthusiasm, her heart warming up. She loved kids. She did. She just wasn’t great with them.

  However, when Vera had contacted her and asked for help protecting the Clark family children, she couldn’t say no.

  Vera’s recent wedding had been lovely. Gwendolyn sighed, long and deep, releasing the pressure in her chest. She wasn’t jealous. Really, she wasn’t. After all, after the kind of childhood she’d had and a ruined engagement, she wasn’t the marrying type. Her dream job as an elite bodyguard traveling the world on assignments wouldn’t be great for a family, either.

  All the things she’d told herself almost enough times to start believing them.

  Almost.

  She was happy for Vera. But having her best friend married now changed things. Seeing her so deeply in love changed things, too. Made Gwendolyn ache for something she’d chosen to live without.

  Then the image of the newcomer at the pastry store appeared in her mind as she parked near the playground entrance and surveyed the territory for anything suspicious.

  Would he be at the park with his daughter? Did she want him to be?

  Of course, she couldn’t let a stranger close to the children without the Clarks’ permission. So she’d done a little research, finding out he was a former ranch foreman who worked as an art gallery manager now, and Vera had also looked into him and said it should be okay.

  Sadly, Gwendolyn didn’t have time to investigate his family history. Maybe because those smoldering brown eyes in his photo set something inside her ablaze.

  The pleasant wave washing over her surprised her.

  Was it attraction?

  Yes, the man was handsome. A strong nose and jaw. Chiseled features. Mesmerizing brown eyes. Even the beard gave him a ruggedly handsome look.

  But she didn’t plan on staying in town much longer since the need for guarding the children seemed to be gone now. Just a few weeks to make sure. No point in starting a romance and risking her heart being broken a second time.

  She studied her surroundings as she turned off the engine. Everyone knew the routine by now and stayed in their seats. Okay, all seemed clear.

  “Let’s go.” She opened their truck door, and the children scrambled onto the ground fast. “Don’t run too far. I need to be able to see all of you all the time. Promise?”

  Three nods followed, but she wasn’t convinced.

  She untied the dog, making sure to hold onto the leash firmly. The large pet loved to roll in the snow and was surprisingly fast for her size. Gwendolyn had found out the hard way that being dragged by the leash in the snow wasn’t fun at all, except for the children who’d watched the spectacle.

  As the children started building a fortress, she joined them while remaining on high alert. Though she kept her attention on her surroundings, her thoughts kept returning to the mysterious sedan. What were the odds it looked exactly like her father’s and even had the same decorations and sticker?

  Longing swept through her whole being, covering her like the snow covered the ground. Twenty-five years after his death, she missed him as if it were yesterday.

  Lord, is that car a sign I need to investigate his death?

  He deserved justice.

  Dara barked and tugged on the leash, so Gwendolyn reluctantly let the dog go. The dog needed exercise, or Gwendolyn would be chasing the Newfoundland around the mansion later, catching furniture and vases on the way.

  Minutes later, she realized her mistake.

  “Dara! Stop! Please stop!” She rushed after the gigantic dog as Dara dashed to an unsuspecting passerby.

  No, no, no.

  Chapter Three

  Gwendolyn cringed as she caught up to the pet.

  The Newfoundland mix lifted herself on her hind legs and unleashed a nice flood of saliva on Conner.

  To his credit, he remained standing, which she could imagine was no easy feat. She was no weakling herself due to years of training, and still, Dara had nearly knocked her down when they’d met. What a day that had been! Considering Danica had put glue on Gwendolyn’s chair and extra pepper into Gwendolyn’s food, it hadn’t been the best first day on the job in history.

  “I’m so sorry.” Gwendolyn made it to him fast and pulled the dog back.

  “It’s okay.” Despite his words, his tone was clipped.

  Huh. There was no reason for her heart to flutter as she looked into his smoldering eyes.

  No reason at all.

  Her heart didn’t usually act like that in men’s presence. Working with guys for years, she had to prove to be their equal, to make them look at her as a reliable, trustworthy partner and not a possible date.

  She reminde
d herself of her duties as she kept the children in her peripheral vision. By now, they’d abandoned building the fortress and joined them.

  “Are you okay, Sweetie Pie?” His voice turned soft and tender.

  Did he... Did he just call her sweetie pie? No one had used that term of endearment on her before. Why would it make warmth spread through her? And why would he ask whether she was okay?

  He leaned down.

  Belatedly, she realized he was talking to the little angel hiding behind his legs. If ever the term sweetie pie suited someone, it suited this girl. She looked sweet and shy. Unusually shy. She seemed a fragile flower, just like her name suggested. But then again, Gwendolyn was far from a child psychologist.

  He was worried Dara could’ve scared his daughter. Probably that was the reason for his clipped tone.

  Gwendolyn crouched before the little girl. “I’m sorry if Dara scared you. She only wanted to greet you.”

  The dog gave a cheerful bark as if to confirm Gwendolyn’s words. The girl hid her face in Conner’s jeans.

  Guilt slapped Gwendolyn as she straightened out. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. Dara is very friendly. Well, sometimes too friendly.”

  She should’ve had a much faster reaction. Was she kidding herself that one day she could become as good as her father had been?

  “Hi! Glad you made it. Wanna play with us?” Danica tapped Daisy’s shoulder. “Remember Nehemiah, my boyfriend? And Landon, my cousin?” Contrary to Daisy, Danica didn’t have a shy bone in her small body.

  “Yeah! We gonna make a snowman.” Nehemiah joined his girlfriend of several months and grinned. Adorable dimples made their appearance in his cheeks.

  Yup, girls these days started having boyfriends at five while Gwendolyn had gotten her first boyfriend at twenty-three and couldn’t keep him long. Gwendolyn suppressed a sigh. Was she so pathetic that, if she ever became interested in romance, she needed to take lessons from her five-year-old charge?

  Daisy peeked from behind the safety of her father’s legs.

  Maybe Gwendolyn needed to pique the girl’s curiosity to get her out of her shell. Gwendolyn smiled. “You know what, Daisy? We’ll build a snowwoman.”