This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
The Perfect Christmas copyright © 2020 by Carolyn Brown
A Christmas Cowboy at Heart copyright © 2020 by A.J. Pine
Home for the Holidays copyright © 2014 by Rochelle Alers
Joy to the World copyright © 2020 by Robin Lanier
Compilation copyright © 2020 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
Cover design and illustration by Daniela Medina
Cover photographs by Shutterstock.com
Cover copyright © 2020 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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ISBNs: 978-1-5387-3577-0 (mass market); 978-1-5387-3575-6 (ebook)
E3-DA-NF-ORI-20200814
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
The Perfect Christmas Dedication
Foreword
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Also by Carolyn Brown
About the Author
A Christmas Cowboy at Heart Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Also by A.J. Pine
About the Author
Home for the Holidays Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Also by Rochelle Alers
About the Author
Joy to the World Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Discover More
Also by Hope Ramsay
About the Author
Fall in love with these charming contemporary romances!
To Zane, Isabella, and Carter Seay
With much love
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Dear Readers:
I’m so excited to be joining Hope Ramsay, A.J. Pine, and Rochelle Alers in this anthology, and I hope that all our readers love these Christmas stories. The Perfect Christmas brings the Longhorn Canyon Ranch series to an end. An author just knows when it’s time to finish a series, but it’s never easy to leave the characters and move on to the next book. These wonderful characters have been in my head for more than two years, and I must admit that I dragged my feet (or maybe I should say my fingers) more than a little bit when I got close to the last bit of The Perfect Christmas.
I’d like to send out a thank-you to everyone who helped make this story possible—to my fabulous editor, Leah Hultenschmidt, who draws every last emotion right out of my stories, and to the whole team at Forever; to my agency, Folio Literary Management, and my agent, Erin Niumata; to my husband, Mr. B, for everything he does so that I can continue to write; and to all my readers who buy my books, tell their neighbors and friends about them, leave reviews, and write notes to me. I appreciate and love every one of you.
Until next time, happy reading!
Carolyn Brown
Chapter One
Cowboys do not cry.
That’s what Landon Griffin kept telling himself as he listened to Vince Gill sing “Blue Christmas” on the radio that cold evening in Sunset, Texas. His mother had passed her love for everything Christmas on to him, and she would want him to enjoy their favorite time of the year. Teresa Griffin hadn’t been a model mother, but from Thanksgiving to New Year’s, every single year, she had made wonderful memories with Landon. As he thought of those good times, tears welled up behind his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.
He parked his truck in front of the Quiltin’ House in Sunset, Texas, and pulled a red bandanna from his hip pocket to dry his wet cheeks. Snowflakes that seemed to be as big as half-dollars drifted aimlessly out of the sky, as if there were no such thing as gravity pulling them to the ground. He and his mother had always wished for a white Christmas, but that would definitely have been a miracle in Southern California, where he’d been born and grown up.
He’d never even known he had two half brothers in Texas until his mother had passed away. Not having any other family, he was eager to seek them out. So he’d come to the Panhandle last summer, and Pax and Maverick Callahan were everything he’d thought a big, warm family should be. And just like family should do, he was quick to help out. To his surprise, he found he loved working on the ranch. There was something about taming the land and caring for the great big shaggy beasts, the exhausting work, and the sense of accomplishment every day that he couldn’t get enough of. So when an opportunity arose to learn more from his brothers’ friends in Longhorn Canyon, he jumped at the chance.
He opened the truck door, grabbed the sack of groceries from the passenger seat, and shivered against the first burst of icy wind that sent the snowflakes into a frenzy. He made his way across the yard to the old house that had been someone’s home for years before Claire Dawson turned it into a quilt shop.
He heard little Sally weeping as if her heart was broken when he stepped up on the porch. At less than a year old, she was way too young to be crying over memories of Christmases past, but Landon’s eyes glazed with more tears just listening to her. He knocked once on the door frame and then went right on inside to find the little girl hanging on to her mother’s leg. Landon set the bag containing sugar and cinnamon on the floor, dropped to his knees, and held out his arms. Sally had just started walking the week before and didn’t always trust her legs, so she dropped down on her hands and knees and crawled over to him. When he picked her up, she laid her little head on his shoulder.
“What’s the matter with the princess?” He patted her on the back as he stood up with her still in his arms.
“She’s cutting
two-year molars, and nothing seems to help.” Dixie Boudreaux carried the bag to the kitchen. “Thanks for getting these things for me.”
“No problem. I was in town to buy feed anyway,” Landon said.
Sally leaned back, tucked her delicate little chin down to her chest, and looked up at Landon with big blue eyes, still floating in tears.
“I’m right here, princess,” he told her. “Want me to rock you and see if that will fix those old nasty teeth trying to come in?” He set her down long enough to remove his coat and hat.
She held up her arms and said, “Lan-Lan rock.”
He tossed his coat and cowboy hat on the cutting table. Then he picked up the toddler and sat down in the rocking chair with her. He had sure gotten attached to the child in the past three months that he’d been working at the Longhorn. Leaving her in a couple of weeks to go back to his brothers wouldn’t be easy.
He glanced over at Dixie, who was standing on her tiptoes to put the cinnamon away on the cabinet shelf. The first time he met her at Longhorn Canyon Ranch at the Labor Day picnic, he had reached out his hand to shake hands with her and stepped in a gopher hole. He dropped to his knees about the same time that she took hold of his hand, and it looked like he was proposing on the spot.
“Pleased to meet you,” he’d said.
“Even if I’m bad luck?” Her blue eyes twinkled.
He had stood up, dropped her hand, and tried to ignore the vibes but, how could he? She was a pretty woman with all those curves and dark brown hair. And of course, the ranch families and hired hands kept teasing him about proposing to the first single woman he met in Sunset, Texas.
The attraction had only deepened through the day when he saw how not only her own daughter but the other little babies at the ranch flocked to her. Her sweet nature with everyone had warmed his heart and soul, and he had wanted to know more about her. He’d started making excuses to stop by the quilt shop a couple of times a week, and they’d become friends. He wouldn’t let it go beyond that—not when he didn’t plan on sticking around too long. Why start something that he couldn’t finish without breaking either her heart or his in the process?
“Hey, what’s your favorite memory of Christmas?” he called out.
Dixie thought for a moment. “I don’t really have any good memories of this time of year,” she finally answered. “Tell me about yours instead.”
He was sitting in one of the two rocking chairs in what used to be the living room. Nowadays, the walls were lined with shelves filled with bolts of fabric. A long table with a sewing machine on one end and an area for cutting on the other sat in the center of the room.
“Well, the first thing that comes to mind is decorating a Christmas tree. We always did that the day after Thanksgiving. When I was little, we made ornaments in school, and Mom kept every single one—even the hideous ones. And it was always my job to put the star on top.” He smiled at the memory.
“We never had a tree at our house,” Dixie shared. “Just couldn’t afford it. Or presents. But sometimes the fire department delivered something for us, like those give-to-the-needy-children things that towns often do.”
“That must have been hard.” Landon’s heart broke at the idea of Dixie never having a real Christmas experience like he’d had. Teresa may have left him with the nanny most of the year, but she always made sure they celebrated the holidays. They’d decorated a tree together. She took him around to see the holiday lights. They used to make and decorate cookies—the frosting being his favorite part of course. Well, maybe the eating, come to think of it. And then, after all the gifts were opened, they would go see whatever new movie was playing at a nearby theater. The presents on Christmas Day were just the last thing on his list of memories and didn’t mean nearly as much as getting to share a month with his mother.
“I usually just tried to pretend the Christmas season was like any other time of year.” Dixie shrugged. “I got by with telling myself I didn’t need any of it. But I’ll be honest, it was hard as a kid.”
Landon felt a distinct pang in his heart. “Princess Sally needs a Christmas tree, and so do you, Dixie,” he said. “As soon as you close the shop, we’ll bundle this little girl up and go cut down a small cedar at the ranch.” Sally waved her little fists in the air as if she were in total agreement.
“How would we even decorate it? We don’t have any ornaments.” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and cocked her head to one side. Landon could tell by her expression that she was warming to the idea.
“See all those quilting scraps?” He pointed to the cutting table. “I can cut circles out of those, and you can sew them together. They’ll be like little round ornaments, and we can string some popcorn for a garland or maybe we could just bunch up some strips of burlap and use it for garland, and we’ll make a star out of that cardboard box. We could glue some of that gold-lookin’ fabric to it…”
“And maybe put some glitter glue around the edges. Yes…that could work. What about lights?” she asked.
“There’s already lights around the window frame,” he answered. “We’ll set it right over there in that bare spot in front of the window. The sun will light it up in the day, and the moon and stars will be the lights for it at night.”
“You’ve got quite an imagination there, cowboy. And an answer for everything it seems,” she said with a smile. “How could I possibly say no?”
He grinned back at her. “I’ve got to take that load of feed out there to the ranch, but I’ll be done unloading it by five. Can you and Sally be ready a few minutes after that?”
“Sure!” she said with enthusiasm.
“Down,” Sally demanded.
“She may not know many words, but she knows what she wants.” Landon set her on the clean floor.
The baby crawled over to a cardboard box that held her toys, picked up her favorite teddy bear, and then went right back to Landon and reached up with one arm.
“Go,” she said.
“We can’t go right now,” Dixie started to explain.
Sally’s chin quivered, and tears flooded her cheeks.
“It’s only thirty minutes until you close up.” Landon picked up the child and settled back down with the baby and the teddy bear in his lap. “I can wait that long, and then I won’t have to drive back into town. She can play with Little Bit and the kittens while I unload the feed.”
“She loves that little miniature donkey, but it’s all right if she gets disappointed once in a while. You’re spoiling her, you know,” Dixie told him.
“And I intend to keep doing just that. After all, I’m only here another couple of weeks before heading back out to my brothers’ ranches.” He picked up one of the little girl’s books. “Let’s read about Frosty the Snowman. If we get a white Christmas, and the folks out at the ranch tell me we just might, you and your mama and I might make a snowman like Frosty right out there in the front yard. We’ll take a picture of you in front of your first Christmas tree and one with your snowman and one of you sitting on Santa’s lap.”
“Looks to me like she’s quite enjoying your lap right now,” Dixie said and smiled.
“I saw a flyer that said Santa was going to be at the Sunset Volunteer Fire Department, and Hud is dressing up like Santa this year. The local ladies in the community are going to have cookies, and the fire department is giving away bags of fruit and nuts. We need a picture of Sally to go with all the others we’ll take while we’re—” He stopped before he said something about the whole Christmas experience. “So we can make a Christmas album for her. If you make one every year, then she can look at them all when she’s grown and remember all the good times.”
“Do you have a set of albums like that?” Dixie swept up scraps of fabric from the floor.
“I did,” Landon sighed. “They were stored at my friend’s house in Paradise, California, but when his house burned up in that big wildfire last year, we weren’t able to save them.”
“I remem
ber hearing about that fire, and I felt so sorry for those people. I know what it’s like to be in a fire,” she said. “I’m sorry that you lost all those pictures.” Dixie patted him on the shoulder as she headed down the hall. “If I’d had something like that and lost it, that would devastate me.”
“I’ve got to admit to a few tears, and big boys aren’t supposed to cry,” he said.
“Neither are big girls, but believe me, I’ve sure shed my share of tears over a lot less than that,” Dixie said. “Maybe tears are just a way to let the grief out of our souls.”
“I like that thought.” He smiled. “To tell the truth, I hadn’t grieved much for my mother until then.”
“That gave you an outlet for your pain,” she said. “I should get our coats and hats.”
“And maybe a blanket or quilt to wrap this baby up in while we chop down a tree,” Landon suggested. That wasn’t what he wanted to say to Dixie—not by a long shot. He wanted to tell her that he’d had feelings for her from the first time he saw her and that they’d deepened through the past three months as he’d gotten to know her better. He had known what it was like to be raised by a single mother, so he could understand Dixie’s struggles. He admired her too much—liked her too much—to ever give her a moment’s heartache or pain, and he wasn’t sticking around that part of Texas.
* * *
Dixie took time to brush her hair, pull it up into a ponytail, and apply a little lipstick before she gathered up her heaviest coat and a little snowsuit that Retta had given her when her own child, Annie, had outgrown it. Just to be on the safe side, though, she picked up a quilt like Landon suggested, along with the diaper bag.
She hadn’t been a bit surprised at the little spark of electricity that popped when she touched Landon on the shoulder. From the first time she shook hands with him at the ranch and he’d stepped in that gopher hole, there had been chemistry between them. If she’d tried to get him out of her mind, it would have been impossible, what with all the teasing from the ladies at the two ranches about Landon’s “proposal.” Since that day, their friendship had kept growing, and she’d learned to admire him more and more. His heart was as big as Texas, and he was constantly doing sweet little things, like making sure she and Sally had a Christmas tree.
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