Chapter 1
Rancher Caleb Sutton walked into the vet clinic, intent on picking up six dogs for his neighbors, Marjorie and Ted Miller.
The Millers ran Kringle Kritters Rescue which butted up against the backside of his property, the Leaping Longhorn Ranch. They had dropped the rescued animals off that morning for their vaccinations.
Ted had a doctor’s appointment in Fort Worth and they’d asked Caleb if he’d mind bringing the dogs back after they’d received their shots.
He hadn’t minded. This was Kringle, Texas, where people looked out for each other, but glancing around at the chaotic scene, Caleb had a powerful urge to skedaddle.
Dogs barked. Cats meowed. A parrot kept squawking out “Merry Christmas!” Kids chased each other around while holiday carols blared. Wall-to-wall animals packed the facility, all controlled by their owners with varying degrees of success.
Dang, but he disliked surprises. Why hadn’t the Millers warned him something was afoot at the clinic?
After a nomadic childhood as a military brat, his father’s career moving them from pillar to post with dizzying frequency, he’d come to crave security, serenity, and stability. Pandemonium threw him for a loop, and it was all he could do not to bolt for the door.
What in the blue blazes was going on around here?
At the back of the room stood his good friend and rancher, Zach Delaney. Zach was dressed as Santa, fake beard and all.
Zach waved jovially. “Hey, there, Caleb, welcome to the madhouse. Ho, ho, ho!”
Yikes. His friend was such a good sport. You wouldn’t catch Caleb wearing a Santa getup. No way, no how, no siree.
Caleb strolled farther into the clinic, his eyes widening to take in the full scope of the hubbub. “What’s all this?”
“Pictures with Santa,” called a cheery feminine voice behind him.
Caleb froze.
The pulse at his throat ticked hot and fast. He didn’t have to turn around to know who’d spoken. He’d once been engaged to that voice and she’d turned his life upside down.
“Could you please scooch over a bit, cowboy? You’re blocking the shot.”
Caleb swiveled to see Ted and Marjorie’s daughter, Ava Miller, standing behind a camera tripod dressed in a crazy candy cane costume. She gave him her patented, sunshine-infused smile.
Once upon a time, that brilliant, unwavering smile had been his kryptonite. Once upon a time? The way his pulse pounded hard against his veins it still was.
Double dang.
Caleb curled his fingers into fists. How had he not seen Ava when he’d first stepped into the room?
The candy cane suit. That was how. It hid her gorgeous body and cloaked her beautiful hair.
The illogical way his stomach jumped, and his chest heated, startled him. Thanks so much for the heads-up, Ted and Marjorie.
Was this some kind of setup? Were his neighbors playing matchmaker? He hoped not. Why would they? It had been ten years since he and their daughter had been high school sweethearts too quickly on the road to matrimony.
“Cabe,” Ava said, calling him by the nickname only she’d ever used. She made a little shooing motion with her hand and deepened the hue of her smile. “Could you just step over a couple of inches? That’d be great. Thanks!”
By nature, Ava was the cheery sort, but her perkiness seemed just a little too over the top. Wow, was she was nervous?
Because of him?
Right, like you’re the center of the universe. Get real.
Caleb took a few steps forward until he was certain he was no longer blocking her shot of Santa Zach holding a regal-looking Pekingese. “How’s this?”
“Super duper.” She gave him a thumbs-up and dialed the wattage on her sunflower smile to stun. “Thanks a million.”
Two little boys, chasing after a small dog, smacked into his back and Caleb almost toppled over. Their mom corralled them, admonishing the boys to apologize, which they did, but he was rattled.
Find a safe place to land and stick. His mantra from every first day of the twelve different new schools he’d attended as a kid.
Better yet? Walk out. Ava was here, she could pick up the dogs for her parents.
Ah, but Ava was clearly working, and he’d promised Ted and Marjorie.
Right. Dang, his cowboy code of honor. When he made a promise, Caleb stuck to it no matter what. Unlike some people.
His gaze strayed back to Ava.
She was busy behind the camera, paying him no mind. He felt a tugging deep in his belly. Alarmed, he shook his head and turned away. Finally, he spied a small wooden chair tucked in the far corner next to the local librarian, Trudy Manfred.
Caleb strolled over and plunked down beside Trudy.
Two miniature pinschers wriggled in her arms. Trudy had dressed both dogs as reindeer, complete with brown felt antlers. In his opinion, they looked quite silly.
“Hi, Caleb,” Trudy said. “Would you mind holding Buttons?”
The question appeared to be rhetorical since she’d already deposited Buttons in his lap. Still, manners required an answer. “Sure.”
“It’s nice Ava’s back,” Trudy said, happily patting her other dog. “Isn’t it?”
Nice was the last word Caleb would have chosen. Stressful rose to mind. “Uh-huh.”
Truth was, he breathed a lot easier when Ava stayed far away from Kringle. It might be her hometown and her parents lived here, but Ava Miller had caused him more worry than a coyote in a henhouse. She’d been his first girlfriend, his first love, and his first heartbreak.
But that was a decade ago.
Why was he reacting so strongly today? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her at all over the last ten years. She returned to Kringle to visit her folks two or three times a year and since the Millers were his next-door neighbors, it was impossible to avoid her completely during those visits. But it wasn’t as if he kept tabs on her or anything.
He could count on one hand the number of times they’d had an extended conversation since their broken engagement. If they saw each other around town, they were civil and made small talk. They were grown adults. No reason not to be civil.
Yet today, he was having an illogical physical reaction to her—galloping pulse, sweaty forehead, fluttery stomach.
Why?
He’d been caught off guard. That’s all it was. Or who knew? Maybe he’d caught the flu.
The dog in his lap let out a small yip. Buttons was no happier about this hullabaloo than Caleb. He couldn’t blame the little fella. The mini pinscher looked ridiculous in that reindeer outfit.
“Good boy.” He scratched Buttons behind his ears and glanced over at Zach, who looked about as happy as a rancher could look when dressed as Santa.
Caleb would bet his favorite horse that some female had convinced poor Zach to put on that getup and his money was on Abby, the ten-year-old daughter of Zach’s widowed friend, Suzannah Owens. Suzannah worked as a receptionist at the vet clinic.
Abby buzzed around the room like an industrious little bee, talking to people and petting animals. The kid was a social butterfly, just as Ava had been.
“You, me, and Zach are too agreeable,” Caleb told Buttons.
The dog looked up at him with don’t-I-know-it eyes.
“What was that?” Trudy peered at him over the rim of her glasses.