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A Texas Christmas Reunion
Carol Arens
The neighbourhood bad boy…Is he back for good?Widow Juliette Lindor believes in Christmas miracles. And for the sake of her small children she hopes there's one that will restore her town to its former glory. But then Trea Culverson returns, bringing back all the passion she thought she'd never have again. With the townspeople firmly set against him, can she show them and Trea that trust and love are just as powerful as any Christmas gift?
The neighborhood bad boy...
Is he back for good?
Widow Juliette Lindor believes in Christmas miracles. For the sake of her small children, she hopes there’s one that will restore her town to its former glory.
But when Trea Culverson returns, he brings all the passion she thought she’d never have again.
With the town firmly set against him, can she show them and Trea that trust and love are just as powerful as any Christmas gift?
“Fans will be enthralled, enchanted and enraptured.”
—RT Book Reviews on A Ranch to Call Home
“A moving and competing tale about the power of love and home.”
—RT Book Reviews on A Ranch to Call Home
CAROL ARENS delights in tossing fictional characters into hot water, watching them steam, and then giving them a happily-ever-after. When she’s not writing she enjoys spending time with her family, beach-camping or lounging about in a mountain cabin. At home, she enjoys playing with her grandchildren and gardening. During rare spare moments you will find her snuggled up with a good book. Carol enjoys hearing from readers at carolarens@yahoo.com or on Facebook.
Also by Carol Arens (#u7aa70fdb-2615-534d-a315-49146d163611)
Dreaming of a Western Christmas
Western Christmas Proposals
The Cowboy’s Cinderella
Western Christmas Brides
The Rancher’s Inconvenient Bride
A Ranch to Call Home
The Walker Twins miniseries
Wed to the Montana Cowboy
Wed to the Texas Outlaw
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
A Texas Christmas Reunion
Carol Arens
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07424-7
A TEXAS CHRISTMAS REUNION
© 2018 Carol Arens
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Lauren Iaccino.
Your loving heart and spunky spirit
reflect Heaven’s sparkle.
Contents
Cover (#u83301a85-4b78-51dc-8ec2-4910f65664e3)
Back Cover Text (#u88aab441-9fc9-5119-bce2-afa7678d38aa)
About the Author (#ue9177e44-a156-5183-a909-a61908a7f877)
Booklist (#ub318526b-d5b4-511f-bee4-fd90deb53533)
Title Page (#ubca8f35c-3518-5a03-95c0-d45e57863688)
Copyright (#u9c4657d5-6320-55a4-b433-8debb10b2f17)
Dedication (#udb10b9e4-903e-571a-969f-177423c74b0e)
Chapter One (#u6493a6d4-6655-529b-aaf2-1b9e2bd83ed6)
Chapter Two (#ubdfa8c0b-4902-5907-aadb-c57d5d7ffc32)
Chapter Three (#u8e186a67-d596-58f6-9c73-163a333a2ca9)
Chapter Four (#ud25eea88-e87a-5fb0-b141-1b3f7fed6dec)
Chapter Five (#u9d6d70ae-8628-5eac-8775-c21d67163bd3)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u7aa70fdb-2615-534d-a315-49146d163611)
If not for the fact that Juliette Lindor had a baby riding her hip, she would have been tempted to march across the street and disrupt the robbery taking place at Beaumont Spur Savings and Loan.
Goodness knew Sheriff Hank would not be running to the rescue of the townsfolk’s money. No doubt the half-hearted lawman was having a fine high time with his cousins, who were at this very moment incarcerated in his jail.
“For pity’s sake,” she muttered, witnessing the crime through the front window of her restaurant.
Apparently the bank was destined to be robbed today. According to town gossip, which there was plenty of, the sheriff’s Underwood cousins would have held it up had they not been arrested last night for previous crimes. Beaumont Spur’s lawman was not so unworthy as to set his relatives free, but neither was he dedicated to holding up every jot and title of the law.
Moments ago, the robber committing the current crime while wearing a ragged coat and a half-crushed hat had glanced every which way except heavenward before he slithered into the bank.
Straining to listen, Juliette heard shouting but thankfully no gunshots.
The thief backed out the door and nearly tumbled into a horse trough. Righting his balance, he dashed across a mound of melting snow that glittered in the midmorning sunshine. On the run, he glanced up and down Main Street, a leather bag tucked under his arm.
Juliette rushed to the front door of the café and shoved the bolt into place. If the criminal was looking for a hiding place, he would not find it in her establishment.
She would forbid him entrance for the muddy state of his boots alone, set aside the fact that he was a lowdown lawbreaker.
The single customer in her restaurant looked up from his soup.
“It’s the bank again,” she explained, catching and kissing the small fist grabbing for the front of her blouse.
The gray-bearded gentleman shook his head but continued to spoon soup into his mouth. “Been ten months since the last holdup. I reckon that’s something. Still, this town isn’t what it used to be.”
No truer words, as far as Juliette was concerned. She dearly missed the sweet Beaumont she had been born and raised in. “Levi, do you remember when we all used to gather about the spring in the town square on Sunday afternoons?”
“Those were good days. My Martha used to make the sweetest cherry pies for everyone. You were only a little thing but you might remember.”
She’d been eight years old when Martha Silver died, but she still recalled the flavor of sweet cherries on her tongue and the indulgent gaze of the woman smiling down at her.
“Anyone get hurt this time?”
Juliette walked back to the window and moved the curtain aside. “Mr. Bones is chasing the thief, so I imagine he wasn’t armed.”
“That’s a mercy. Don’t begrudge the banker his business, but we did just fine without a bank for years before the rail spur came to town. I’m keeping my cash in the safe at the mercantile. Can’t recall Leif being robbed in all the time he’s been open.”
Nor could Juliette. Of course, Leif Ericman was a giant of a man who had taken to wearing a sidearm since the arrival of the rail spur. For all that Leif had a wicked scowl, he was known for his kindness. A robber, a stranger to Beaumont Spur, would not know it, though.
“I’m finished.” Levi slapped his spoon on the tablecloth.
“Would you like a piece of cake before you go?”
“What I mean is, I’m finished with Beaumont Spur. I’m moving on to a place the railroad hasn’t corrupted.”
“Levi! You can’t. You’ve lived here since—oh, since forever!”
He sighed, nodded. “Since before you were a glimmer in your parents’ smiles. I brought my bride here because it was a good, peaceful place to settle. Sure isn’t that anymore. I’m not the only one talking about leaving.”
Yes, she knew that. A whole group of families were considering the move together.
But Levi Silver? It couldn’t be!
In spite of what it had become over the past few years, Juliette loved her town. It broke her heart to see it falling to ruin. Even children were dashing about during school hours without proper discipline because the schoolteacher had quit suddenly in October and the new one had not yet arrived.
What this town needed was a reliable sheriff and a strict schoolmaster.
A hotel without fleas wouldn’t hurt, either. It was her firm opinion that a gracious inn would attract a better sort of clientele than the saloons did. The town might then thrive, and new families would move here to replace the ones who were leaving.
Baby Lena curled her fat little fist around the ribbon tied in Juliette’s braid. She drew it to her mouth and sucked on the yellow satin.
“Here comes Mr. Bones back again. From here it looks like he’s grinning. He’s got a leather bag tucked under his arm. He must have caught the robber, then.”
“Looks like your money is safe until the next time, Juliette.” Levi stood up, then dug about in his pants pocket. Withdrawing some coins, he stacked them neatly on the table. “If I were you I’d keep my cash under the bed or in the mercantile safe, like I do.”
Stashing money under her big lonely bed was the least safe place she could think of. Strangers were not the only ones hoping to snatch unsecured funds.
Crossing the room, Levi joined her at the window and peered out. He cupped the curve of Lena’s dark, curly-haired head in his bony hand, his fingers gnarled with age and years of hard work.
