A Cowgirl's Christmas by C. J. Carmichael Page A

I need to start packing.”
    Gravel crunched under Court’s boots as he headed for his truck. He was just opening the door when Callan reappeared on the front porch.
    “You and Red better make plans to move those cattle soon. A heavy snow won’t be long in coming.”
    Before he could answer she’d withdrawn inside, closing the door firmly behind herself.
    “Damn woman.” He started the engine and took off for the highway, his mind running through the past few hours, trying to work out if he could have handled the situation smarter. If only Hawksley had set up Callan as a fifty percent partner in his will. But the old coot had stubbornly insisted that a man needed to be the one in charge. “Callan will be mad but she’ll see sense eventually.”
    But Hawksley hadn’t counted on how hurt his daughters would be after they read those letters from their mother. He and Beverly should have told the girls the truth right from the beginning. Damn Hawksley and his stupid male pride.
    Court glanced at the reflection of the Circle C ranch in his rear-view mirror and despite all the recent aggravation with Callan, his heart swelled with unbelievable joy.
    He’d had the same feeling earlier, while riding. This land was wonderful, strong and beautiful, clean and pure. Hawksley and his father had told him that love of Montana and ranching was in the Carrigan blood.
    Based on the way he felt today, he had to believe they were right.
    He wished he could fully enjoy this moment. But thoughts of Callan, her hurt and her sorrow, kept nagging at him. He wasn’t about to throw away his father’s legacy and walk away like she wanted him to. But he didn’t want to take the Circle C away from her either. There had to be some way to get her on side with the idea of working together.
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    C allan turned on the television, but instead of making the house feel less empty it just made Hawksley’s absence all the more noticeable. It didn’t feel right to hear the TV and not see him sitting in his favorite chair.
    So she switched it off then wandered from room to room, not knowing what to do.
    She’d promised her sisters she wouldn’t sell until the New Year. She understood why they wanted one last Christmas holiday together in their family home. But Christmas was almost two months away. She simply couldn’t see staying here alone for all that time.
    Especially if she wasn’t working. She’d go insane.
    She hadn’t played to go to Grey’s Saloon for a third night in a row.
    Somehow, it just happened.
    One minute she was standing at the door to her fath—Hawksley’s study, feeling like she could scream. The next she was in her truck, considering her options. There were friends she could visit. Maybe she should grab a bite at the Main Street Diner.
    Or...she could hang out at Grey’s.
    Like a homing pigeon, her truck gravitated to her usual parking space a few blocks off Main Street, where she could leave it overnight if she had to. And face it, she didn’t often leave this place in any condition to drive.
    But tonight, if she avoided the bourbon and stuck to beer, maybe it would be okay. She’d only have a few, and she’d grab a meal. That would help absorb the “poison” as Court liked to call it. Man, was he a prig, or what? Didn’t he ever let loose?
    No sooner was she in the door than she ran into someone she knew. A skinny cowboy with cute puppy-dog eyes she’d sort-of-dated for a while a few years ago. Justin gave her hug.
    “Aw, Callan, I was sorry to hear about your dad.”
    “Sorry enough to buy me a beer?”
    Justin drew back, looking surprised. Then he grinned. “Does nothing faze you?”
    “Just like my truck, I’m built tough.”
    She joined his friends at their table and had a couple beers before she remembered her plan to eat. Holding up her hand, she called out to one of the servers. “Nachos for me and my friends, please.”
    By the time the order arrived,