Secret Santa by Jill Sanders

Author:Jill Sanders [Sanders, Jill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781945100628
Publisher: Grayton Press

Chapter Twelve

Early the next morning as Nick was getting ready to walk out the door and head to Kara’s place, the phone rang, and he ended up having a half-hour conversation with Stephen McKinney. The lawyer had an update on the paperwork that Wilbert had given the dealership to get the loans for the three vehicles.

The document was an obvious fake. Stephen had assured him again that the deed to the ranch was still in Nick’s father’s name. He’d even emailed him copies of both. The one that his uncle had given to the dealership didn’t even have a state seal on it.

His uncle was getting sloppy trying to get his hands on the place. Which meant that he and his cousin wouldn’t hesitate to keep trying.

When Nick stepped outside, he had to answer a few questions from Daryl and a few of the other employees. Most of them would be spending the day checking the fence lines and repairing parts of the hay barn, which was in serious need of repairs.

Nick had talked to his father last spring about rebuilding it, but his father’s health had taken first priority and the task had been put off for another season.

It was almost lunchtime by the time he parked beside Kara’s truck and got out. Oliver was napping on the front porch, lying in the sunlight, and when he stepped up to pet the dog, he realized there were some really good smells coming from the open front door.

“Come on in,” Kara called before he had a chance to knock on the door.

“Something smells good in here,” he said as he and the dog stepped inside.

“I started making banana bread last night and when I woke up, I had the urge to bake even more,” Kara said from the kitchen. She had flour on her shirt and on the tip of her nose.

He walked over and pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He instantly felt better.

“There, I’ve been thinking about doing that since you left last night.” He pulled back.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, pulling back to run her eyes over him.

“No.” He smiled. “Just a busy morning.”

“More problems?” she asked as she turned back to mixing something in a bowl.

“No.” He leaned against the counter and watched her. “Is any of that for me?” He motioned to the covered containers sitting on the stove.

She smiled. “That depends.” She walked over and uncovered a pan. “Do want banana bread or pumpkin bread?”

He felt his stomach growl. “Can I have both?”

She laughed. “Yes, sit.” She motioned to the table. “I’ll get you a plate.”

He walked over and took a seat. She set a plate of bread in front of him, a dollop of melting butter on each, along with a cup of coffee, which made him realize that he hadn’t even had a cup that morning. No wonder he was in a bad mood.

Sipping the coffee and digging into the bread, he felt a little steadier and glanced up to watch her slide a pan of cinnamon rolls into the oven.

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