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The Texan's Christmas
Linda Warren
Asking for a favor from a woman scorned isn't Cisco "Kid" Hardin's smartest move. But he needs Lucinda "Lucky" Littlefield's land for his oil company. Surely enough time has passed since he left her–and his promises–behind?Apparently not, because Lucky still holds a lot of resentment.Then Kid learns of the baby Lucky lost–their baby–and he's determined to right his wrongs. He needs to prove he's a man worthy of her love and trust. And he plans to do it by transforming his sins of the past into the most glorious holiday season she has ever seen.
“I have to get back to work.”
“Wait.” Kid held up a hand. “I’d like to talk about oil leases.”
“What?” Lucky eased back into her chair.
“Shilah Oil would like to lease your land for oil and gas.”
She wanted to laugh and without realizing it, she did. She had something Kid wanted. This was going to be fun.
“No,” she replied without having to think about it.
“Come on, Lucky. This could be good for you.” He glanced around. “Maybe you could get out of this beer joint.”
That did it.
“The land is not for lease.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not leasing to a Hardin.”
He drew back as if she’d hit him. “Come on, Lucky.”
Come on, Lucky. That and his I-live-for-you smile were his trademarks. Come on, Lucky. He’d kiss her cheek. Come on, Lucky. He’d stroke her hair. Come on, Lucky. And she’d do anything he wanted.
But not anymore.
Dear Reader,
The Texan’s Christmas is the last book in The Hardin Boys miniseries. I’ve lived with these characters for almost two years and it’s sad to let them go, but I’m going to end the series with a bang—with tears and laughter. The best way!
If you’ve read the other two books, The Texan’s Secret and The Texan’s Bride, you’re well acquainted with Cisco “Kid” Hardin, the middle brother. If you haven’t, that’s okay. You’ll still love Kid, the charmer, the ladies’ man. He has a devil-may-care attitude and nothing in life fazes him much. Until he has to face his past—his first love, Lucinda “Lucky” Littlefield.
You probably know someone who has the gift of gab. Who never meets a stranger. Who’s the life of the party and always makes you laugh. My younger brother, Paul, is like that. He keeps everyone in stitches at family gatherings and is fun to be around.
Kid Hardin has some of those traits, and it was a challenge to see what it would take to make him serious. Kid and Lucky have a love story that has kept me on the edge of my seat and I hope you enjoy these characters as much as I’ve enjoyed creating them. So it’s goodbye to the Hardins, but I hope they live on in your mind.
With love and thanks,
Linda Warren
P.S.—It’s always a pleasure to hear from readers. You can email me at Lw1508@aol.com or write me at P.O. Box 5182, Bryan, TX 77805. Visit my website at www.lindawarren.net
or www.facebook.com/authorlindawarren. I will answer your letters as soon as I can.
The Texan’s Christmas
Linda Warren
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
RITA
Award-nominated and award-winning author Linda Warren has written thirty books for Harlequin, including stories for the Superromance, American Romance and Everlasting Love series. Drawing upon her years of growing up on a farm/ranch in Texas, she writes about sexy heroes, feisty heroines and broken families with an emotional punch, all set against the backdrop of Texas. When she’s not writing or at the mall, she’s sitting on her patio with her husband watching the wildlife and plotting her next book. Visit her website at www.LindaWarren.net.
I dedicate this book to my brother,
Paul William—you’ll always be the life of the party.
I would like to thank all the patient and
understanding people who answered my endless
questions about the oil industry, trains and cattle
rustling. All errors are strictly mine.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
LUCINDA LITTLEFIELD.
The name evoked a torrent of high school memories—heavenly blue eyes, kissing in the bleachers, making out in his old pickup…and a whole lot of regret.
Cisco Hardin shifted restlessly in his truck as he sped down the road in High Cotton, Texas. Everyone in school had called her Lucky, and they’d dubbed him Kid. Somehow he knew they’d meet again, but he never dreamed it would be like this.
In his mind their eyes would lock across a crowded room. She’d smile that smile that turned him inside out and all the promises he’d broken would be forgotten. Chickens wearing high heels might be a more likely scenario, he mused. Lucky wasn’t going to forget what he’d done. It was time to roll the dice and see if twenty years had mellowed the cockles of Lucky’s heart.
As he pulled into the parking area of the one beer joint in the small town, his cell jangled to the tune of “Ain’t Going Down (’Til the Sun Comes Up).” Turning off the ignition, he reached for the phone on his belt.
“Hey, Cadde.” His brother was the CEO of Shilah Oil. Kid and Chance, their other brother, had a vested interest in the company, too. The Hardin boys were in the oil business.
“Did you get Lucky to sign the lease?” Cadde always came straight to the point.
“I just reached The Joint.”
“What took so long?”
“Well—” he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel “—I wanted to see Aunt Etta and Uncle Rufus and then I went to Chance’s, but the baby was asleep so I stopped at your house to play with Jacob. He’s crawling everywhere and pulling up to his feet by himself.”
“He’ll be walking soon. Jessie and I can hardly keep up with him.” There was a long sigh. “Kid, you’re stalling.”
“Maybe.” He had to admit this wasn’t easy for him.
“You were only a boy when you promised to call and come back after you left for Lubbock and Texas Tech, but you didn’t. That was years ago. You’ve both moved on.”
“I know. I can’t figure out what she’s doing in High Cotton running her dad’s bar.”
“Don’t worry about her life, just get the lease signed. I’ve already purchased our drilling contract from Anadarko and it didn’t come cheap. Since Bud transferred the land and mineral rights to Lucky, we need her fifty acres to complete the desired acreage to drill the oil well. We have a personal stake in this because our property left to us by our parents is a major part of the tract.”
“I’m well aware of that, big brother.”
“Do you want me to talk to Lucky?”
“Hell, no. Leasing is my department and I’ll handle it.”
“You’ll have to get out of your truck to do that.”
Kid looked around. “Are you watching me?”
There was a laugh on the other end. “No, but I know you and, believe me, this is a first—Kid Hardin afraid to talk to a woman.”
“Lucky’s not any woman.”
“You might want to analyze that statement and why this is so hard for you.”
He’d rather not. “You always said my past was going to come back and haunt me. I can feel the ol’ Ghostbusters chomping at my butt.”
“If you don’t want to see her, Chance or I will do it.”
“Like hell.”
“Then get out of your truck.”
Kid clicked off before the curse words could leave his mouth. Grabbing his hat from the passenger’s seat, he got out. The parking lot was graveled as it had been years ago and it crunched beneath his boots like corn-flakes. The weatherworn siding and tin roof with the rusty spots were the same, too. An iron rail ran across the front. Bud had put it up after a drunk had plowed through his building one night. “The Beer Joint” blinked from a neon sign. Bud hadn’t used much creativity in naming the place. Besides Kid’s truck, three more were nosed up to the rail and it was only five o’clock on a hot September afternoon.
Opening the heavy door, he stepped into the dimly lit bar and just like that, twenty years smacked him in the face. They were seventeen years old and he’d fixed up an old Ford pickup to drive to school. After classes, The Beer Joint was the first place they’d stop. Lucky would go in the side door and sneak out two beers. Then they’d cruise the back roads, stopping at the old abandoned Potter place beneath an overgrown entrance. He’d drink his beer and then hers because she’d only take a couple of sips. The rest of the afternoon they’d spend making out when they should have been studying.
He was her first and he’d thought he would love her forever.
After his eyes adjusted, he saw the inside was the same, too; the back wall had a row of red booths that now looked more orange than red. Wooden tables were scattered in the center, the old jukebox that probably held records from the 1980s occupied another wall, and to the left was the mahogany bar Bud had built. It shone like glass. A couple huddled together in a booth, two guys sat at a table and three cowboys were bellied up to the bar talking to a waitress.
He didn’t see Lucky.
Straddling a faded red bar stool, he looked around, his eyes falling on the waitress. She made no move to serve him. One cowboy said something and she laughed. His mind reeled. Oh, my God! He knew that soft, seductive chuckle. It visited him often in his dreams. Could she be…?
His eyes roamed over her slim yet curvy figure dressed in tight jeans. Her breasts pushed against a blue fitted blouse and the first button was undone. That he noticed, but her hair drew his attention. Lucky’s blond hair was long and flowing. This woman’s was short, kind of chic, wobberjawed is what he’d call the style. It looked damn good on her, though.
Lucky.
What have you done to your hair?
Just when he was about to fall off his bar stool from shock, she turned and walked over to him.
“Can I get you anything?”
The soft lilting voice was the same but there was no recognition in the blue eyes—the eyes that used to sparkle for him. Now they just stared at him with irritation.
He wanted to say, “It’s me, Kid,” but somehow the words got tangled up in the past of his misdeeds. What he said was, “Beer. Miller Lite.”
“Can or bottle?”
“Bottle.”
Behind her was a large cooler filled with numerous kinds of beer. She opened the door and grabbed one. After placing it in front of him on a napkin, she laid a ticket on the bar. He pulled out his wallet and placed a five on top of it.
