Maybe This Christmas: A Sweet Historical Western Holiday Romance Novella (Holidays in Mountain Home Book 2) by Kristin Holt

Author:Kristin Holt [Holt, Kristin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kristin Holt, LC
Published: 2014-09-30T22:00:00+00:00

Two days later, Effie returned from making a deposit at the bank to find Gus and Luke squaring off across her sales counter. They both had elbows propped on the oak surface and flexed their hands in preparation for an arm wrestle.

At the sound of the door, Luke glanced over his shoulder. He’d braced his feet wide, providing an impressive view of muscled legs, taut backside, and broad shoulders. “There you are. You’re just in time.”

She propped hands upon her hips. “In time for what?”

“We’re settling this, once and for all.” All traces of Gus’s usual joviality had disappeared.

“Settling what, exactly?” She didn’t like the sound of this. But at least they hadn’t determined to settle their differences with pistols—yet.

Neither man looked her way. They glared at one another, poised to grip hands like rams set to butt heads.

“Answer me.”

“I told this drifter I will accompany you to the Annual Children’s Program—”

Incensed, she cut Luke off. “Drifter?”

Gus chuckled. “I believe he called me an interloper, first go ‘round.”

She stalked closer, ready to knock their heads together. “This is my place of business. You can’t arm wrestle to determine who might ask me to that event.”

Luke grasped Gus’s hand, flexing his fingers for a better hold. The men stared one another down, their heads lowered to maximize leverage.

This was entirely ridiculous. “Just so you know, I do have a say in the matter, and my answer is no. I won’t go with either of you. So there’s no sense going through with this.”

Gus flexed, pulling hard, but Luke held steady. Muscles bulged beneath shirtsleeves. Strain showed on both faces.

Gus gained several inches, forcing Luke’s backward. Their arms shook with strain.

She groaned in frustration, refusing to watch this ridiculous show. She hung up her cloak. “Where did you scare Noelle off to this time?”

They ignored her. Her temper spiked.

One man—perhaps both—grunted.

She couldn’t help but notice Luke had regained the upper hand. He had Gus on the defense now. Perspiration beaded on his forehead and dampened his hair.

Let them battle this out, but if they thought she’d cooperate as the prize, they’d find themselves sorely disappointed.

She yawned, dramatically, making plenty of noise and patting her open mouth with exaggerated motions.

Neither so much as glanced her way as they remained locked in their contest.

The door opened. Of course it did, middle of the day like this. She’d hoped to find Noelle returning, but her luck wasn’t that good. She decided to meet her patrons in the entryway. “Mrs. Cheney, Mrs. Talmadge, good afternoon to you both.”

The matrons split down the middle and leaned around Effie for a better view.

“Are they…arm wrestling?” Doc Cheney’s wife seemed captivated by the vision of Luke’s strong back. Sweat had dampened his shirt and made the fabric cling to his skin.

“Whatever for?” Mrs. Talmadge, never one to wait idly by, strode directly for the counter to better see the main attraction.

“They’re trying to prove a point.” So far, all they’d proved was their adolescent need to best one another—and the striking similarity in their strength.

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