Yuletide Cowboys: The Cowboy's Yuletide Reunion\The Cowboy's Christmas Gift by Deb Kastner

Author:Deb Kastner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2015-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

“I think you’ll see that he’s coming along just fine,” Neely said, leading the saddled bay from the barn. Frisky on this crisp Saturday morning, the horse danced sideways around Noble, who stood dead center of the yard, as solid and square as a brick column in his slacks and expensive leather coat. The hat that perched atop his prematurely graying buzz haircut could have paid for Amber’s entire Christmas.

To Neely’s consternation, Matthew stepped off the porch and walked around both cars. Tall and lean, he wore the caped duster and broad-brimmed hat as if born to them. Beside him, Noble Wheaton looked slightly...ridiculous. Wealthy but ridiculous, as if he didn’t quite belong. It irked Neely that Matt could so easily show up Noble for what he was—too old, pudgy and about as much cowboy as that New York nanny on Amber’s favorite TV show. And here Neely had been trying to convince herself that Noble Wheaton was all a girl could ever want.

If she was honest with herself, she had refrained from encouraging Noble’s romantic intentions for some time now, though he’d made his interest in her more than obvious. Oh, all right. He’d been downright cloying about it, instant messaging her, sending notes with his payments, buying her silly little gifts, most of which were utterly useless. She even had to make sure that Amber and Sheryl sat on each side of her in church to keep him from encroaching there. He still managed to stay close because his daughter and Amber were friends. Though Claire was a grade ahead of Amber, the two girls liked to sit together.

Noble eyed Matthew with a frown and a discernible twitch of his nose. “Don’t I know you?”

“Maybe. Been around these parts long?”

“My whole life.”

“Well, then, you just might remember me,” Matt said, keeping his hands behind his back. “Matthew Ender.”

Noble’s heavy features looked like chiseled stone all of a sudden. “You were the troublemaker.”

Matt grinned. “That would be me. About, oh, fourteen, fifteen years ago. Can’t say as I remember you, though. Must have passed through high school before my time.”

At least six or seven years before Matt’s time, Neely guessed. She said, “Matt, you don’t have a stopwatch, do you? I was just about to show Mr. Wheaton what Buttercup here can do.”

“Buttercup!” Matt laughed, gesturing with his good hand toward the horse. “Who named this handsome animal Buttercup?”

Beside him, Noble did a slow burn, muttering, “My daughter picked that name. To her, a horse is a horse. She’s too young to think about gender and such things. It’s her horse. She can name him what she likes.”

Matt looked at Neely, leaned forward slightly and said, sotto voice, “Remind me to give Amber lessons in horse naming.”

She did her best not to roll her eyes. Or laugh. Amber, after all, had campaigned for a number of other names, anything but Buttercup, for the powerful gelding.

In her most businesslike tone, she asked, “Do you happen to have a stopwatch or not?”

“On my phone,” he said, pulling the thing from his pocket.

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