to last forever.”
She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him again. “I’ve liked being your friend all these months, but that’s grown into something more. I love you, Landon Griffin, and this has been the most perfect Christmas of my whole life.”
“Yes, it has, and I’ve fallen in love with you, too, Dixie, and even with all the craziness, it has been perfect.”
She smiled. “That’s the way our life will probably be—mishaps, giggles, and memories as we raise Sally together.”
“And lots of Merry Christmases,” he added, then kissed her again.
Also by Carolyn Brown
The Longhorn Canyon Series
Cowboy Bold
Cowboy Honor
Cowboy Brave
Cowboy Rebel
Christmas with a Cowboy
Cowboy Courage
Cowboy Strong
The Happy, Texas Series
Luckiest Cowboy of All
Long, Tall Cowboy Christmas
Toughest Cowboy in Texas
The Lucky Penny Ranch Series
Wild Cowboy Ways
Hot Cowboy Nights
Merry Cowboy Christmas
Wicked Cowboy Charm
Digital Novellas
Wildflower Ranch
Sunrise Ranch
About the Author
Carolyn Brown is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling romance author and RITA finalist who has published more than one hundred books. She presently writes both women’s fiction and cowboy romance. She has also written historical and contemporary romance, both standalone titles and series. She lives in southern Oklahoma with her husband, a former English teacher who is also an author of several mystery books. They have three children and enough grandchildren to keep them young.
For a complete listing of her books (in series order) and to sign up for her newsletter, check out her website at CarolynBrownBooks.com or catch her on Facebook/CarolynBrownBooks.
For S and C, who make all of my holidays magical.
Chapter One
Deputy Daniela Garcia always set two alarms. One for 4:15 a.m. and the other for 4:25. That allowed for one snooze and then one kick in the butt when she tried going back to sleep after said snooze. Some people liked time in the morning for coffee and contemplation. Not Dani. A good three-mile run through Meadow Valley while it was still asleep—with streetlamps and porch lights to guide her along the way—gave her plenty of time to contemplate. The coffee came later.
It was 4:29 now, and thanks to a time-honored practice of sleeping in her running gear, all she had to do was brush her teeth, splash some water on her face, throw her hair into a ponytail, and slip on her running shoes. She checked the weather on her smartwatch and sighed. Thirty-nine degrees. Looked like she’d be grabbing her track jacket too.
She stretched, put her earbuds in, and situated a water bottle in her waist belt. Then she loaded her holiday playlist before storing her phone in the belt as well.
“All I Want for Christmas Is You,” by Mariah Carey, blared in her ears, and she couldn’t help but grin.
She glanced at the closed door to her roommate Casey’s bedroom and shrugged before heading out of the apartment and down the stairs. Between Dani’s daytime shifts on duty and Casey’s late nights managing Midtown Tavern—the one-stop shop for any sort of nightlife in Meadow Valley, above which their apartment sat—the two barely saw each other.
Dani burst through the door and onto the dark and still-quiet First Street. She drew in a deep breath through her nose, the crisp smell of winter in the air, and headed up the street toward the town square.
As she ran, she made a mental note of each storefront’s holiday display and tried to imagine what sort of lights would be hung to give each window, roof, or awning—or all of the above—its finishing touch.
Because today was the seventeenth of December, the day the countdown to the First Street Holiday Lights Parade started, and this year the Sheriff’s Department was going to kick the butt of every other shop, tavern, inn, and building. Not that it was a competition.
But it sort of was. An unwritten and unspoken competition of sorts where the only reward was bragging rights. Sure, it evoked some good-natured ribbing and maybe some mild trash talk, but winning meant being the talk of the town for the whole next year, and that was enough for her.
Dani ran into the square and made a loop, eyeing the three government buildings that occupied the space—the red-bricked and white-pillared courthouse, standing with elegance beneath the gray sky; the Meadow Valley town hall, equally regal, like a miniature White House; and then the sheriff’s office. Its one story was dwarfed by the other two buildings, and its brown-brick facade—some of it starting to crumble—was a far cry from the curb appeal of the other two. But that was nothing compared to what was happening