Her Christmas Cowboy (The Wyoming Cowboy #5) - Jessica Clare Page 0,4
little mole just below her ear.
He drove back to the ranch in silence, listening to Libby chatter about her day. She’d colored pictures and was learning about animals today. “Did you know platypuses lay eggs, Uncle Caleb?” she mentioned in the middle of a constant stream of talking. “Because they do. They have duck noses and they lay eggs. Miss Mckinney says so.”
He grunted a response. Miss Mckinney. She had his phone number now. She’d given him the most curious smile when he’d volunteered to be Santa, as if she weren’t entirely certain he was sane. “You sure you want to do this?” He’d nodded mutely, because words always failed him, and then she’d taken down his phone number.
His phone.
Amy Mckinney had his phone number. That made him start sweating all over again. What if she called him to talk about the whole Santa thing and he messed up his words again? He’d wanted to grab Libby and haul her out of the room the moment he said he’d do Mrs. Claus. The other woman had tittered and looked at him like he was a creep, but Amy had just given him the most gentle expression, as if she understood how hard it was for him to talk to women.
She couldn’t know. Most people didn’t have any idea that he and his brothers had grown up in the remote reaches of Alaska and that he’d only seen women when he’d gone into town with his father. He’d never talked to them, either, because he was just a kid. Back then, he could be a quiet type and no one thought anything of it. But at twenty-seven? Living in a town like this? He was sorely missing communication skills that had never been given to him. It was easy to talk to his brothers. Fairly easy to talk to Uncle Ennis.
Impossible to talk to a woman without the words tripping over his tongue and coming out wrong.
It occurred to him that he had no idea how to be Santa if he was going to have to talk to people. Of his brothers, Caleb was the silent one. Hank was quiet, but he didn’t have problems talking to most people. Jack, the youngest, wouldn’t shut up. He talked about anything and everything—kinda like Libby. Caleb was the middle child, the peacemaker. The listener. If Amy Mckinney wanted an ear, he could give her one.
If she wanted him to talk, he was in trouble.
He pulled up to the Swinging C Ranch and unloaded Libby, who was still talking about platypuses and clutching a crayon drawing in her hand. He pulled the car seat out of the back of his truck and put it in Hank’s truck, then picked up Libby—still talking—and took her inside.
Jack was in the kitchen, grinning as he polished off the last of the Christmas cookies that Hank’s wife had sent up with them.
“So did you see her?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “The love of your life?”
Caleb felt his face get hot.
“You love Miss Mckinney?” Libby said, surprised. “Like Mommy and Daddy love?”
Oh hell. He glared at Jack, who just snorted with laughter. Jack wasn’t supposed to bring up this sort of thing in front of Libby, because she’d repeat everything. The last thing he needed was his niece blurting out his infatuation to her beautiful teacher. “No. Not her,” he said quickly. “Someone . . . else.”
“Miss Lindon?”
Caleb shot Jack another angry look. He didn’t know who Miss Lindon was, but he suspected it was another teacher. “Someone else,” he said again, setting her down. “Uncle Jack, where’s Libby’s dad?”
“He’s in the barn with Trixie. Checking her hoof out.” Jack poked Libby with a finger. “You want to watch Rudolph while we’re waiting for him to return?”
Her face lit up, and Caleb set her down, letting her race into the living room while Jack turned on the Christmas movie. Christmas. Right. He was in a heap of trouble now. Jack returned to the kitchen a few moments later and gestured at the living room, where the TV was blaring with jingling bells and Christmas music. “You didn’t take her to the salon?”
Caleb waved a hand in the air. “Hank said to bring her here. Becca’s busy. Something about a hair emergency for someone. Look, that’s not important. I’ve got a problem.”
Jack picked up the plate and ate a few of the stray sprinkles. “What, did you say something stupid to that teacher?” He grinned. “Oh damn, did you call