jacket stepped onto the porch. Tall and lean with a messy mop of dark hair and thin wire-rimmed glasses, Adam looked very much the up-and-coming college professor.
Definitely Lauren’s type.
Seth’s hands tightened on the reins. “Merry Christmas, Adam. We brought you Kringle.”
“Kringle?” The professor’s serious expression eased into a smile. “That’s always a welcome gift.”
Adam’s reaction was just what Seth had expected. There wasn’t a person alive who didn’t like the buttery, layered, almond-filled pastry. Jan’s recipe was the best. Although many traditionalists insisted Kringle be shaped like a pretzel, his wife had always made hers in an oval to eliminate the unfilled, overlapping parts.
For years, Seth had helped Jan make the pastry for friends and neighbors. Though the skill was usually passed from mother to daughter, Ivy would have to learn from him. It was important to him that his child embrace her Norwegian heritage.
Today’s lesson had gone surprisingly well. Ivy had been an apt pupil. It helped that she and Lauren had learned together. In fact, having Lauren there had made the lesson more fun for all of them, Seth included.
“Come inside.” Adam approached the sleigh. “Warm up. Have a cup of coffee and some Kringle with me.”
Seth hesitated. It was almost Ivy’s bedtime. Still, he didn’t want to be rude. And this was their last stop. He turned around to where Lauren sat with Ivy on the backseat of the sleigh. His eyes locked with hers and for a second the world tilted sideways. It was the same craziness that had been happening all day.
Electricity sizzled in the air whenever he glanced her way. Desire shot through him like a bull out of a chute every time her hand brushed his. He wasn’t sure why any of this was happening. It was damned annoying.
Lauren’s voice broke through his thoughts. “A cup of anything hot sounds good to me.”
“You can put the horse and sleigh in the stable, if you’d like.” Adam gestured toward the building Seth had helped Lars shingle just last summer. “It’s empty now so there’s plenty of room.”
Seth inhaled sharply. “You got rid of Hoss?”
Adam’s head cocked. “Boss?”
“Hoss. The palomino.” Seth snapped. Didn’t he even know the name of the aging gelding that had been Lars’s pride and joy?
A light of recognition flashed in Adam’s eyes before he chuckled. “It wouldn’t surprise me if that one was already at the glue factory.”
Seth bit back a harsh reply. Hoss may have been long in the tooth but he had many good years left in him. The horse had been more than a means of transportation—he’d been the lonely man’s friend. Adam would have known that if he’d visited his dad more than once every five years.
Of course, even if Adam had been aware of the fact, it might not have made a difference to him. While Lars loved all living creatures, his son had never cared about the animals or the ranch. Seth settled his gaze on the well-kept house. It was difficult knowing that everything Lars had worked so hard to build, everything that he’d cared so much about, would be sold off piece by piece. Seth forced the depressing thought aside. The ranch was Adam’s now, to do with as he wished.
The wind kicked up from the north. Out of the corner of his eye, Seth saw Ivy duck her head and cuddle close to Lauren. Guilt clogged his throat. Worrying about Hoss and Lars’s legacy was no excuse for neglecting his responsibilities.
Seth hopped to the ground. “Let’s get inside where it’s warm.”
“I’d forgotten how cold it gets here.” Adam zipped his coat before moving to the side of the sleigh and smiling at Lauren. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Adam Nordstrom.”
The professor extended his hand and when it closed over Lauren’s bulky mittened one, Seth saw the interest on Adam’s face. For a second Seth was seized with the urge to tell the professor to keep his coffee, that they were heading straight home. Thankfully he reined in his caveman protective instincts just in time.
“Adam, this is Anna’s friend Lauren Van Meveren.” Seth shifted his gaze to Lauren. “Adam and I went to high school together. Nordstroms have owned this land since the 1800s.”
Lauren stepped from the sleigh, her hand still in Adam’s. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Nordstrom.”
“Likewise, Miss Van Meveren.”
“Call me Lauren.” She flashed a smile.
“Only if you call me Adam,” he immediately countered.
“Deal.”
Seth resisted the urge to gag at the sophomoric repartee.
Adam cocked his head and studied Lauren for