Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Callie
I'm down on my luck this year, but it looks like things are finally turning around. I just got hired as the new baker at the Naughty List Ranch, and the job includes room and board.
As a single mom with a young son, it feels like a Christmas miracle. Until my car won't start. I send a panicked text message to my new boss who assures me help is on the way.
Then cowboy Santa shows up dressed in red flannel and whistling holiday tunes under his breath. Is it possible that good things do come to those who bake?
Nate
I'm a lonely cowboy working myself to the bone, and I'm not so sure there's any holiday magic left for me. But when my folks call and ask me to pick up a stranded single mom and her cute little elf, I can't say no.
I didn't count on how sweet the curvy baker would be or how much I'd want to claim her for my own. Now, I'm stealing kisses in the kitchen while she's baking spirits bright. I'm falling hard for my Christmas miracle, but she thinks this is just a fling. Can I convince her that Christmas wishes really do come true?
If you love cocoa, cookies, and cozy romance, it's time to meet Nate in Her Cowboy Santa. He's a jolly cowboy who is determined to claim the shy single mom in this steamy holiday romance novella. Set in Courage County and Havenstone, Montana, you're sure to fall for these charming small towns where big, bearded cowboys fall first and forever
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Chapter 1
Nate
“Give it a try now,” I tell Ledger Kringle, heir to the Kringle Christmas Tree Ranch here in Courage County, North Carolina. It’s the kind of place that crowds come during November and December to get a homegrown Christmas tree. The whole Kringle family goes all out for the holiday season.
He cranks the tractor, but nothing happens. It’s this little tractor decorated to look like a train engine that transports guests around the ranch. The kids love the Christmas train tour, their eyes growing big and excited when they see it.
I study underneath the hood again. I’m usually good at fixing things, especially things that break down. But I’ve never had any experience working with this particular model, so it’s taking me longer than usual to figure out what the problem is.
The wind blows, howling and cold, promising snow later this evening. If we can’t get this fixed soon, Ledger and his brothers won’t be able to do their usual tours.
Before I can move onto the next possible solution, Peyton bustles into the cold barn. She’s Ledger’s wife and one heck of a businesswoman. She’s taken Liquid Courage, our local bar, and turned it into one of the best restaurants in the state.
“I made cookies,” Peyton calls, all buttoned up in her coat that’s brown with white trim, almost as if she’s baked so many gingerbread people that she’s in danger of becoming one herself.
Ledger clambers down from the tractor in less time than it takes a heart to beat. He accepts one of the cookies from his wife and bites into it, giving her a delighted smile.
“Still warm from the oven.” She passes him a thermos of coffee.
I duck my head and look back at the tractor, unable to take the sweetness and the innocence of the moment. I almost had that once. Three years ago, I could have sworn that by this point I’d be married with a couple of rugrats of my own running around underneath my feet.
But that never happened. I push back the familiar pain and despair, the reminder that I am alone in the world.
My phone rings, and I quickly check the screen. It’s Mary from the Naughty List Ranch in Montana. I stayed at that ranch years ago when I was a young boy on the wrong path.
Mary and Christopher Maas saved my life, and I don’t know if they know it. I silence the call, figuring I’ll return hers later. Right now, I have a tractor to fix, so I can get away and lick my wounds in peace.
“Give it another try,” I tell Ledger, who is happily kissing his wife. He pulls away from her reluctantly. The tractor rumbles to life. This old workhorse has returned.
Peyton gives me a soft smile. “You saved Christmas.”
“No big deal,” I tell her, wiping my grease-covered hands on a rag.
“You should stay for dinner,” she says enthusiastically. I shake my head before Ledger can second the invitation.
“Well, at least take some gingerbread men with you,” she says, pushing a plate of the warm cookies toward me.
Rudolph, my giant chocolate Labrador Retriever, tries to sniff the plate. I hold it out of his reach, calling his name in a soft warning. He makes a whimper but takes a seat, licking his lips as he does.