A Cowboy's Christmas Proposal

She lifted one side of the apron she wore and produced a phone from her jeans pocket. Swiping the screen, she raised her brows expectantly. “What’s your uncle’s number?”

Owen obliged her, and she quickly entered it. He might have spent more time losing himself in the depths of her incredible green eyes, but his son chose that moment to renew the squabble with his sister.

“Cody, that’s enough.”

Owen blocked his son’s hand right before it connected with his oldest daughter, Marisa. Cody was strictly forbidden to tease or torment his little sisters. Unfortunately, that seldom deterred him, and Marisa was his target more often than Willa, the youngest.

In response, Marisa dropped to the floor and resumed crying. “I wanna go home.”

Willa collapsed beside her sister, whining in solidarity, while Cody grabbed Owen’s arm and, lifting his feet, dangled in his best monkey impersonation.

Owen attempted to quiet the girls and sent Molly an apologetic smile. This wasn’t the auspicious beginning he’d envisioned.

The sad truth was Owen didn’t know his children very well or they him. He’d been away more than he’d been home in recent years and was sorely lacking when it came to parenting skills.

One of the reasons he’d agreed to take a month off and cover for his great-uncle was the perks that came with the job. He’d been promised a cabin and plenty of free time to connect with his estranged children.

Never again would he pick them up for a scheduled visit only to have Willa not recognize him. The blow Owen suffered had been the motivator behind him turning a new leaf, and he’d vowed from that day forward nothing and no one would come before his children.

“Homer’s not answering, either.” Molly disconnected and repocketed her phone.

“I’m sure they’ll call when they reach Flagstaff. Service is pretty iffy between here and there.”

“Did your uncle coerce my grandmother?”

He thought at first she might be joking then realized she wasn’t. “I doubt it. She seemed pretty eager when they came by my house on Thursday to ask if I’d cover for Uncle Homer.”

Molly’s gaze narrowed. “Just how well do you know my grandmother?”

“We’ve met twice. I’m all the family Uncle Homer has in Arizona. Which is why, I think, they chose to elope and take a long RV trip. Uncle Homer’s son couldn’t arrange time off work on such short notice to come to a wedding, and his daughter’s scared to death of flying. He wanted your grandmother to meet his children and brothers and grandchildren, and they’re spread out over six different states. Kind of romantic, if you think about it. Eloping and touring the country.”

“Except my mom and aunt haven’t met Homer, and none of us were invited to the wedding.”

Owen heard the hurt in her voice she tried to mask and felt a need to ease it. “The way Uncle Homer put it, they were trying to be fair. His family couldn’t come here and you’re not able to leave. Eloping was a compromise.”

Molly shook her head. “Grandma wouldn’t up and leave. Sweetheart Ranch is too important to her.”

“I’m sure she put you and your sister in charge because she’s confident in your abilities to manage the ranch without her.”

“We need her. Today’s our grand opening. The mayor’s coming. And a reporter from Channel 5.” Molly glanced over her shoulder at a clock on the fireplace mantel. “They’ll be here in three hours.”

Three and a half, to be exact. But Owen didn’t correct her as his kids were again demanding his attention.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

“Cody kicked me.”

“Where Mama? Want Mama.” Willa stuck her pudgy thumb in her mouth and sucked lustily.

Owen bent and scooped up his youngest. He simultaneously took hold of Cody’s shirt collar before the boy made a run for it. With her siblings restrained, Marisa was likely to stick close.

“I know you’re busy,” Owen said. “If you can show us to our cabin, we’ll get out of your hair.”

“Your cabin,” Molly repeated.

“Emily mentioned she’d reserved one for us.”

“Right.” Molly’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, another sign of how hurt she was by the elopement. “I should have guessed. She’s been planning this for weeks. That’s why she insisted our vacancies didn’t matter.”

Owen suffered a stab of guilt. Perhaps he shouldn’t have encouraged Uncle Homer. “We can stay at the inn in town if it’s a problem.”

“It isn’t,” Molly said.

“You sure?”

“Positive. The cabin’s empty anyway.”

“Daddy,” Marisa pleaded.

“I wanna eat.” Cody twisted sideways.

Convinced his luck was about to run out, Owen said, “Let me get the kids settled and give them a snack. Then we’ll be back, and you can put me to work.” He flashed his best sales rep smile in an attempt to win her over.

“You’ll help?”

“I’m capable of more than marrying people.”

“We do need a minister,” she mused. “And someone to move furniture.”

“I’m good at heavy lifting.”

She returned his smile, a genuine one this time, and Owen found himself quite captivated. Strawberry blondes were his weakness, and this one came with the added bonus of freckles.

He admired Molly for more than her looks, though. She was obviously overwhelmed from being thrust into a difficult and unexpected situation. Yet, that hadn’t prevented her from doing her job.

A nose-to-the-grindstone attitude and the ability to navigate chaos were qualities Owen appreciated, and he cultivated them in himself. He attributed his success in two careers—professional cowboy and marketing—to those same qualities. He had every intention of applying them to repairing his strained relationship with his children.

Before any of them had taken a step, the front door whooshed opened. Molly went visibly weak with relief. “Finally! The flowers are here.”

Owen wished his arms were a foot longer. The better to contain Cody who was intent on beating the rest of them outside.

“Slow down, partner.”

Rather than the florist, a pinch-faced, pint-size elderly woman in a large, drab coat entered the parlor. Molly was about to be disappointed for a second time.

Except she immediately brightened. “Nora! Please tell me you’re here to rescue us.”

“What else would get me out of bed at this ungodly hour?”