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A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree by Janet Dailey

By Janet Dailey

THE SWEETEST GIFTS...Sam Bennett left a snowbound Colorado ranch for the glittering metal canyons of Manhattan-temporarily. exertions was once by no means this a lot enjoyable as he units up Christmas timber throughout city. And now that he's met Nicole younger, a stunning window clothier, 4 weeks won't be adequate to romance her the way in which he wishes to...
ARE those YOU DON'T EXPECT

But with Christmas round the nook, on a daily basis jointly seems like a blessing. and because the spirit of the season takes carry, taking part in Santa and aiding out a small boy with an enormous vacation want is a pleasure Sam and Nicole can't withstand. Neither of them imagines that they'll be rewarded-with the type of love that lasts forever...

"Janet Dailey...writes stories that hot your heart."

-"The Romance Reader"

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Townsfolk gravitate toward the chairs around that stove to talk about the weather and share the latest gossip. This is particularly true in winter," he added, pulling up his collar over cheeks that were already ruddy. It was cold in New Hampshire, but that didn't discourage Griffin. He had initially seen Lake Henry in autumn, when the roadsides were awash with color and the air smelled of sweet cider. During his last trip there, it had snowed. As frustrated as he had been at making no progress with Poppy, he had loved that snow.

There was a split second when he thought of the part of Heather's past he didn't know, the knapsack he had stashed away and the words that the federal agent had said. We have evidence that her real name is Lisa Matlock, and that fifteen years ago she committed murder in California. If Heather was hiding something like that from him, it would explain the fear in her eyes. Then again, if she was innocent of the charges and feeling overwhelmed by something that was out of her grasp, her fear was justified.

So she simply added, "Please," and disconnected the call. Slipping off the headset, she took up her coffee and looked out at the lake. She tried to imagine what Heather was feeling--wondered if it was confusion or numbness or fear, or something else entirely. She tried to imagine Heather sitting in a cell in Concord, but couldn't give the image a face that fit. " gentle. The scar did that. It was small, not more than half an inch long and curved gently upward from the corner of her mouth, the eternal optimist's smile.

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