The Texan's Christmas by Linda Warren Page A

brain and it wasn’t a good feeling.
    “Aren’t you the same boy who used a red Magic Marker to draw a heart on my wall with Kid Loves Lucky inside?”
    “Yeah, I did that.”
    “Aren’t you the same boy who talked Lucky into stealing beer from my store?”
    “Yeah, I did that, too, but I’m older now and…well, to be honest, the truth is age hasn’t changed me much. I planned to put my name on it when Lucky was away. But I can see now that isn’t a wise idea.”
    Bud squinted at him. “Who are you?”
    “Come on, Bud, give me a break.”
    “Over your head maybe. You hurt my daughter and I’ll never forget that.”
    “I’m sorry for all the pain I caused her.”
    “Then go back to Houston and leave her alone.”
    He took a long breath. For the first time he realized the past was over and there was no way to go back. Not even his name on his son’s grave would change that. He just got blindsided by all the pain. He had to leave Lucky in peace and he had to find a way to livewith himself. And that was about as grown-up as he could get.
    Something else bothered him. “Aren’t you worried about Lucky working in that bar?”
    “All the time.” Bud squinted at him again. “Somebody hit you. There’s a bruise on your left jaw.”
    He touched the sore spot. “That happened last night when those guys tried to accost Lucky.”
    “What guys?”
    He frowned. “Didn’t Lucky tell you?”
    “No. She didn’t mention a thing.”
    How did he get out of this? Clearly Lucky didn’t want her father to know. But for once he used that better judgment thing Cadde was talking about.
    “I got into a fight with three cowboys and Lucky had to separate us with her gun.”
    Bud stared at him for several seconds. “Boy, you don’t lie very good.”
    “Okay, Bud, it wasn’t a pretty scene, but Lucky had everything handled.”
    “That girl is into something dangerous and I can’t stop her. She’s hell-bent on—”
    “What do you mean ‘something dangerous’?”
    “What?” Bud had a blank look. “Nothing. I’m just an old man rambling.”
    “No, you’re not. What’s Lucky into?”
    “Get your hat, boy, and leave.” Bud clammed up fast and Kid knew he wasn’t going to say another word.
    He’d let it be for now and walked into the house. Inside everything had changed. New furniture, biggerTV and a brightly patterned area rug covered the hardwood floor in the living room. A fresh cream color covered the walls and completely obliterated the heart he’d drawn over the sofa. They’d been fooling around that day, just the two of them as it often was. He drew hearts on her homework and she got mad. Then he’d drawn a big one on the wall. She giggled and said he was crazy. Her father was going to kill him. Bud was pissed. He’d called Aunt Etta and Kid was grounded for a week. He offered to paint over the heart but Lucky wouldn’t let him.
    He guessed she finally had. Probably when she’d discovered Kid Hardin wasn’t worth the ink that was wasted on the wall. He took a long breath and picked up his hat. What he and Lucky had was over, but a whole lot of memories remained.
     
    L UCKY SERVED BEER WITH ONE EYE on the door, watching for the cowboys, but so far they hadn’t showed. It was just as well. She had enough on her plate with Kid threatening to change the headstone. Why couldn’t he leave? He had no problem doing so years ago.
    The place was busy and she didn’t have time to dwell on Kid and his unpredictable behavior.
    Luther Farley slid onto a bar stool. “Coors. Can.”
    She disliked the man to the point of wanting to cringe. He was a big, boastful, egotistical idiot with a spare tire around his middle. His mother believed drinking was a sin, so Lucky didn’t know why he keptcoming in here. Guess the rules didn’t apply to the Farley family.
    Placing the can in front of him, she asked, “Anything else?”
    He popped the top and winked at her. “You sure are looking fine tonight,