A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe Read Free

college. But parents don’t always get what they want in that regard. Ask my mom. She about had a fit when I told her I was joining the marines.”
    Ally lingered on the porch, turning her slender body into the brisk wind blowing across the rolling terrain. “Your dad understood, though.”
    Hank tracked her gaze to the small herd of cattle grazing in the distance, then glanced at the gloomy sky. “Dad rodeoed before he settled down. He understands risk is a part of life, same as breathing. Mom, once she had kids, well, she just wanted to protect her brood.”
    Turning back to face him, Ally leaned against the porch column. “Yet you came back for good last summer, anyway.”
    Hank shrugged, not about to go into the reasons for that, any more than he wanted to go over the reasons why he had left Texas as abruptly as he had. “Laramie is my home,” he said stubbornly.
    Ally’s delicate brow furrowed. She jumped in alarm andsquinted at the barn, pointing at the open doors. “What was that?” she demanded, clearly shaken.
    Hank turned in that direction. “What was what?”
    Shivering, Ally folded her arms again. “I thought I saw some animal dart into the barn.”
    Hank saw no movement of any kind. “You sure?”
    â€œI’m positive!” she snapped, visibly chagrined.
    Her skittish reaction clued him into the fact that she was definitely not the outdoorsy type—which did not bode well for ranch activity of any sort.
    â€œWhat kind of animal?” he persisted. “A fox? Weasel? Snake? Armadillo?”
    Ally shivered again and backed closer to the house. “None of the above.” She kept a wary eye on the barn.
    Hank was about out of patience. “Describe it.”
    She held her hands out, about three feet apart. “It was big. And brown…”
    Which could be practically anything, including a groundhog or deer. Unable to help himself, he quipped, “We don’t have grizzly bears in these parts.”
    Color flooded her cheeks. “I did not say it was a grizzly bear! I just don’t know what kind of mammal it was.”
    Realizing the situation could be more serious than he was willing to let on, particularly if the animal were rabid, Hank grabbed a shovel from the bed of his pickup truck. “Then you better wait here.”
    Â 
    A LLY HAD NEVER LIKED taking orders.
    But she liked dealing with wildlife even less.
    So she waited, pacing and shifting her weight from foot to foot as Hank strode purposefully across the gravel drive to the weathered gray barn. Seconds later, he disappeared inside the big building. Ally cocked her head, listening… waiting.
    To her frustration, silence reigned. Hank did not reappear.
    Which could not be good, since she had definitely seen something dash furtively through those wide doors.
    When yet another minute passed and he hadn’t reemerged, she decided to head over to the barn herself. There was no need to worry, Ally told herself. Hank was probably fine. Had there been any kind of trouble, he would have let out a yell.
    He probably had whatever it was cornered already—or was trying to figure out how to prompt it to run out the back doors, assuming he could get them open….
    Her heart racing, Ally reached the portal. Looked inside. Hank was twenty feet to her right, hunkered down, the shovel lying by his side. With his hat cocked back on his head, he was peering silently into the corner.
    â€œWhat is it?” Ally strode swiftly toward him, her heels making a purposeful rat-a-tat-tat on the concrete barn floor. And that was when all hell broke loose.

Chapter Two
    Hank had seen his fair share of startled animals in the midst of a fight-or-flight response. So the commotion that followed Ally’s rapid entry into the shadowy barn was no surprise.
    Her reaction to the cornered creature’s bounding, snarling brouhaha was.
    She stumbled sideways, knocking