"Lots of mystery in this exciting romance centered on the holiday season."
Reviewed by Kay Quintin
Posted November 11, 2009
Romance Historical
As orphans, Reid, Dade and Trey Barclay were taken in by
Kirby Morris until his death. Reid, hoping to right a
terrible wrong to his brothers, manages Crown Seven Ranch
and raises horses in Wyoming as he searches for them. Reid
is obligated to marry Kirby's daughter, Cheryl, on
Christmas Day. As a favor, elegant and prim Eleanor "Ellie"
Jo Cade arrives at the ranch to fill in as cook and
housekeeper, only to be spellbound by Reid's bone-melting
kisses. But Ellie is hiding the real reason for being there. Reid finds himself lusting after Ellie while being bound by
his promise of marriage to Cheryl. But Reid visualizes his
dreams crumbling around him at the thought of losing Ellie. A COWBOY CHRISTMAS is exciting and surrounded with tons of
mystery and treachery. This story will definitely keep your
mind running wild with possibilities, and Ellie and Reid
will entertain you with some mind-blowing sex. Reid's
character is strong, but sexy and warm at the same time. I
really enjoyed this love story centered around the
Christmas holiday.
SUMMARY
One Starry Night Reid Barclay doesn't have time for
Christmas, not with trouble brewing at the Crown Seven
Ranch. He's got prize thoroughbreds to protect and a long-
ago wrong that he wants to make right. But the beautiful
cook who's taken over the ranch kitchen is a welcome
distraction, even if Ellie Jo Cade burns everything from
gingerbread to roast beef. Her sweet face and womanly
figure are pure temptation... Cornhusk angels...bright
berry garlands...spun-sugar snow--everything about
Christmas holds fond memories for Ellie Jo. She's doing her
best to make peace with an ornery wood-burning stove and
make the old ranch house truly festive. All she wants is to
believe in Reid...and the only-at-Christmas magic that
makes hearts glow...
ExcerptChapter One Maverick, Wyoming 1894 Blinding light rode into the room on an icy gust of wind and
rudely reminded Reid Barclay that he couldn’t get
rip-roaring drunk today. He shot a scowl at the newcomer who
didn’t seem to have the sense to know they were letting out
what little heat the potbelly stove could belch out. Damn, was he going snow blind? He blinked a couple of times
just to make sure she wasn’t a mirage. Nope, nothing wrong
with his eyesight. A lady stood silhouetted in the doorway, as if debating
whether to come in or skedaddle. The answer was as clear as
the big blue sky that stretched to the horizon. A lady had no business stepping foot in this hole. He ignored the inclination to stand up straight in her
presence, preferring to hunker over his whiskey while she
stood in the open doorway like an ice princess, gilded in
white light and prim bearing—the exact opposite of what this
place represented. Any second Reid figured she’d realize she was in a bawdy
establishment that made its money satisfying men’s baser
needs. Or in his case, trying to. “Is this Mallory’s Roost?” That sultry note in her voice was
at odds with her prim appearance, putting lurid thoughts in
his head that he had no call thinking about a lady. “Yep,” he said, in no mood to offer anything more. She gave a shudder, but instead of hightailing it like any
lady with a lick of sense would do, she stepped inside and
shoved the door closed. Besides the wind that howled a
protest at being shut out, the only sound in the Roost was
the crackle of the stove and Reid’s uneven breathing. This lady oozed quality in a hovel that wouldn’t know
sophistication if it bit saloon keep Ian Mallory on his
Irish ass. The tips of dainty black boots peeked from under
her heavy tweed skirt. Fine-looking black gloves covered
small hands that rested demurely at her sides. Her wrap
hugged her narrow shoulders and didn’t appear near warm
enough for these environs. He had just enough liquor under his belt to want to heat
this lady up under a nice thick blanket. Dangerous thoughts
for a man in his position. He let his gaze drift up to her face, and her inquisitive
eyes and lush lips hushed his heart a measure. He couldn’t
recall when that had happened to him last. To have a woman
intrigue him so now—Hell, it was time for him to vamoose. He’d heard the train chug in five minutes ago, and knowing
he had a passenger waiting had chased off thoughts of
getting drunk. Not that drink would solve his problems. But
sometimes a man just needed to drown himself and his
troubles in a bottle. That would have to wait. It was time for him to collect Mrs.
Leach’s friend and head back to the ranch. He would’ve too if that slight desperation he sensed in this
woman hadn’t stayed him. He couldn’t pull himself away just
yet, not until he found out why a young woman of quality
would enter a grubby saloon. He finished off his rotgut, then almost choked on it as the
sweet scent of lilacs drifted over him, tempting him to
forget the promise he’d made. He didn’t have to look up to
know the lady stood at his elbow, but he did anyway. Dammit to hell but the uncertainty he glimpsed in those big
brown eyes of hers had him wanting to reach out to her and
tell her whatever was wrong would be all right. He knew
better now than to make such promises. He shot the lady a look that should’ve sent her running, but
she hiked that pert little chin up as if telling him she
wasn’t one to bluff. If that chin hadn’t trembled the
slightest bit—Aw, hell, didn’t she know it was dangerous for
a woman to come close to a lone man swilling whiskey— a man
who was wallowing in old regret and new longing? “Was there a gentleman in here earlier?” she asked. “Not that I recall.” She frowned and bit her lower lip. “Perhaps he left before
you arrived—” “I been here since yesterday, ma’am,” Reid said and
scratched his knuckles over the stubble he’d not bothered
scraping off this morning. “Plenty of cowpokes and the like
have come and gone, but nary a gentleman has passed through
those doors.” “I see,” she said, her mouth pinched in clear disapproval of
his admission, and his appearance, if he guessed right. “Is
the owner of this establishment here?” Reid nodded in Mallory’s direction, his curiosity hiking up
another notch. “That’s him propping up the far end of the bar.” “Thank you.” Yep, no doubt about it. She was the embodiment of the vision
that had tormented Reid’s dreams for as long as he could
recall. True elegance with a throaty voice that hinted of
naughty. So what the hell was she doing here? She set off at a good clip toward the end of the bar where
Ian Mallory snored like a sawmill. Her boot heels clicked a
jig, and her bustle swayed to the lusty beat pulsing in
Reid’s veins. Damn, but he’d sure like to see if her
inviting backside was mostly padding or firm, natural rounding. “Excuse me,” she said to Mallory as she stopped a
respectable distance from him. Mallory answered her with a snore. The lady tapped a foot impatiently on the floor and Reid bit
back a smile, wondering what she’d do now. From what he’d
seen so far, she wasn’t the type to tuck tail and run. She cleared her throat. “Sir, if I may have a moment of your
time.” She leaned close to Mallory, her voice louder and
more commanding this time. Like a schoolmarm. Or a general. It took grit for a woman to walk into this place. A damn
sight more gumption to stay. Just the type of woman who
appealed to Reid. Seeing his dream woman in the flesh brought all the old
longing rushing back. A good dose of regret, too, though he
rarely acknowledged it anymore. But what shocked the hell
out of him was the beginning twitch of an honest-to-God
arousal. The past two years lust had been a stranger to Reid. God
knew he’d tried to get back in the amorous saddle again as
recent as last night, but nothing any woman did worked. Now,
just being in the same room with this lady had nudged his
cock awake. About damn time. Now if only he were free— She turned to Reid then, and indecision flitted over her
inquisitive features. “Is he always like this?” “He has his lucid moments, but they’re rare.” Her mouth cinched up tighter than a banker’s purse strings,
but the gloved finger she slid between her neck and high
ruffled collar was more telling than her tongue slipping out
to dampen her full lower lip. That long-missed heaviness
paid a teasing visit across Reid’s groin again. Yep, that part of him wasn’t dead after all. Reid gripped the empty shot glass in his hands, debating
about filling it again. Drinking beat wishing to hell that
he was holding soft womanly flesh, but he couldn’t leave the
old gal waiting at the depot much longer either. She shook the sot. “Mr. Mallory. Please wake up.” “Uh, wha—” The old drunk roused from his stupor and stared
at the lady, blinking like an owl. Reid could well imagine what went through the shanty
Irishman’s head. Had he died and gone to heaven after all? “And just how can I help you, miss?” Mallory asked as he
straightened to his full five-foot-six height. “I’m looking for Mr. Reid Barclay,” she said. “The conductor
at the depot said I could find him here.” Reid froze, his hand inches from grabbing the bottle of
whiskey. Had he heard her right? “Now what would a fine lady such as yourself be wanting with
the likes of Reid Barclay?” Mallory asked, voicing the same
question that swirled in Reid’s head. She slid Reid a dubious glance, before turning back to
Mallory. “That’s personal.” The whiskey Reid had swilled crashed like angry waves in his
gut. He stared at her long and hard, but nothing about her
stirred his memory. Why the hell was she looking for him? “If that don’t beat all.” Mallory thumped a hand on the bar
and let out a wheezing laugh. “Well? Can you tell me where I can find Mr. Barclay?” she
asked. Mallory bobbed his shaggy head and pointed a gnarled finger
at Reid. “That’s your fine gentleman right there.” Reid pressed both palms on the sticky bar, more discomfited
than offended by the Irish sot’s mocking tone. “Oh.” She pressed a gloved hand to her throat and stared at
Reid in clear disbelief. Reid’s mind churned with reasons, beyond the obvious one,
why this lady had sought him out. Damn it all, but that one
plausible cause wasn’t reassuring in light of his physical
reaction to her. “Cat got your tongue?” Reid asked. Again, that telling flush stole over her creamy cheeks. “Please forgive me. I was expecting someone more— I mean,
someone far older and, and, and—” She waved a hand as if
trying to catch words that had escaped her. “Respectable looking?” he asked. Her cheeks turned a fiery red this time. “Please don’t take
offense, but you don’t look like the gentleman I’d imagined.” “None taken, ma’am.” She crossed to Reid, those sharp bootheels tapping out a
lively ditty that had his blood pumping for a farethee-
well. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Barclay.” Reid inclined his chin a mite, his neck crawling with
suspicion. “Barclay or Reid will do.” “Highly improper, but if that’s what you wish.” Her cheeks
darkened a smidgen, and for the first time she looked as
uneasy as he felt. “Why are you looking for me?” “I’m Eleanor Jo Cade,” she said. She couldn’t be the woman he’d been expecting from
Denver—the one his housekeeper had recommended for the job
in her absence. “Mrs. Leach’s friend?” “Yes,” she said. “Why? What?” Reid scrubbed a hand over his face, annoyed as
hell that she had him stammering for words. He sucked in a
deep breath and wished he hadn’t as he drew in her sweet
lilac scent. “Why didn’t you wait for me at the depot?” he asked, acting
annoyed she’d come looking for him in this weather when he
was really perturbed that she was a young, pretty and damned
desirable woman. Of course, the fact she was here in the saloon told him she
was the type who took matters into her own hands. And dammit
all for thinking that because his body jolted again at the
thought of her taking him in hand. Shit! “It seemed silly to wait when I could just as easily find
you and we could be on our way.” There was more to it than that. The spark of panic in her
eyes hinted she had another reason that she wasn’t ready to
divulge. That alone was enough reason for him to send her on her way
here and now and save himself a passel of grief. God knew
he’d surely suffer misery in Miss Cade’s company, for his
thoughts were anything but gentlemanly around her. But he’d
have a hellish time finding a suitable woman to replace Mrs.
Leach at this late date and in this ungodly weather. He blew out a disgusted breath at being caught between a
rock and a hard place. “Then by all means let us collect
your baggage and be on our way.” Her sigh was a fitting reaction, but the wide eyes
glittering with relief, coupled with those soft lips
trembling into a smile, went too far. Yep, this little woman
roused feelings in him best left dead. Reid shrugged into his jacket and motioned to the door.
“Stay here while I fetch the sleigh from the livery.” “I don’t mind walking with you. It’ll save time.” She
click-clicked across the wood floor like a spirited filly
and out the door into the bitter cold. Reid tossed five bucks on the bar and started after her. He
would have preferred to lose ten minutes and regain his
equilibrium, but it was obvious Miss Cade would rather tramp
through the snow than spend another second in the Roost.
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