Page 31 of Cowboy’s Christmas Baker

“He is,” Mal agreed, feeling a tug on her heart. “And his little girl has lost her mother. She’s only eight, but she was five when her mom died.”

“Sounds like you managed to find two people hurting more than we are, Sugarplum,” her dad said with a sad smile.

“I guess so,” she said, nodding slowly. “We just met in person for the first time, but I think that sometimes it’s nice to be with people who understand that life isn’t a bed of roses all the time.”

Her dad smiled. They both remembered her steady, kind-hearted mother losing her patience once in a blue moon when a student complained that math class was too hard or dared to say that they hated math.

Life is not a bed of roses, she would mutter angrily to herself, pacing up and down the living room and shaking her head while the rest of the family watched her in wonder.

But the storm always passed quickly, and often ended with a cozy baking session or a night of board games.

“So, you like him as a friend?” her dad said, bringing her back to the present.

“Maybe something more,” Mal ventured. “I don’t know.”

She wasn’t sure why she was admitting her feelings. Harrison was a lost cause in that regard. He’d been pretty clear about the fact that he had sworn off women. He wouldn’t marry again.

“You always had a thing for the Hawkins boy,” her dad said carefully.

“I guess everyone knew but him,” Mal said, her cheeks heating.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” her dad said. “But don’t go out with this fellow just because Declan’s getting married.”

“I-I’m not,” she said. “I mean we’re not going out. But if we were, it wouldn’t be because of Declan Hawkins. I really like Harrison. And his daughter is… well, she’s such a special kid, Dad. She loves to bake. We made baklava tonight, and she did practically everything herself, if you can believe it.”

Her dad nodded and took another bite of cake without looking at her.

“You think I shouldn’t go out with him,” Mal guessed quietly. “Even if he asked.”

“I didn’t say that,” her dad said, dropping his fork and lifting his hands up slightly.

“You didn’t have to,” Mal said. “You haven’t even met him, Dad. Why disapprove?”

“If you want my advice, I’m only telling you to be careful,” he said after a moment. “That’s all.”

“Okay,” Mal said. That was fair. “Any particular reason? Or just that I haven’t known him long?”

“Because I can tell you that he’s already got a number one girl in his life,” her dad said simply. “And you deserve to be somebody’s number one girl.”

“Wow,” Mal said, shaking her head. “So does that mean that he never gets to find love again?”

“I’m not worried about him,” her dad said. “Let his dad worry about him.”

“Dad,” she said, laughing.

“I’ll take some of that baklava when it’s ready, though,” he said. “If the little girl’s got some to spare.”

“Oh, she’ll have plenty,” Mal said. “We tripled the recipe. She did it all in her head and wrote it down so fast. It was really impressive.”

“Your mother would have liked that,” Dad said with a little smile.

Mallory smiled too. He was right. Mom would have loved it.

“I need to run off soon since it’s an early day tomorrow,” she told him. “Can I help you get the decorations out before I go?”

Her dad frowned and scratched the back of his neck.

“What?” she asked.