Page 26 of A Ranger for Christmas
A frown furrowed. “Why?”
“You aren’t feeling well.”
“I feel fine. A little headache is not a big deal.”
“It’s a big deal when you’ve had a head injury. By the way, did you eat?”
“I ate breakfast at the hospital.”
“What, a fruit cup or pudding?”
“Fruit cup.”
“Not enough.” He slowed and took a right onto a small road not marked with a street sign.
“Where are we going?”
“To my sister’s house.”
He and Sherry had inherited the family ranch. Though he’d received the lion’s share of the land, their parents had deededher the house. That suited him fine. He was far from being ready to settle down, and she and her husband had just found out they were expecting. His brother-in-law worked in the high-tech industry and Sherry stayed home with the boys.
Marisa shifted in her seat. “I don’t want to interfere with their holidays.”
“Sherry loves guests. She invited me to dinner tonight.”
“She invited you. Not me.”
“The more the merrier for her.”
“Don’t the holidays overwhelm her?”
He sensed if he stopped the car, she’d bolt. “It’ll be fine.”
“I don’t like this.”
“Don’t be a baby.”
She glared at him. “I’m not.”
“You’re whining.”
“Am not!”
Smiling, he realized her headache couldn’t be so bad if she was willing to argue. He turned down the gravel drive and wound into the Hill Country until they rounded a corner.
An explosion of colorful lights lining the drive greeted them. Lights dangled from the trees and wound around shrubs and a collection of wagon wheels. More lights outlined the front porch as well as the steep roofline of the house.
Marisa shook her head. “I think my stepmother has some serious competition.”
“No one can out-Christmas Sherry. No one.”
Chapter 9
Monday, December 22, 6P.M.
Marisa blinked as she stared at the lights. Whereas her stepmother chose white lights, this home was decorated in bursts of bright color. Each twinkling light winked an invitation, beckoning her inside. Despite her headache, her spirit lightened.
She got out of the car, and with Lucas at her side, climbed the three steps to the front porch. Lucas rang the bell and seconds later the thunder of feet echoed in the house. The door snapped open to three boys, all with dark hair and gray eyes much like their uncle’s. The boys—the youngest looked to be about six, the oldest three or four years older—were wearing cowboy hats and vests.
