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“Go down to Texas. Spend a month or two with Quint and Dallas. It’s been quite a while since you spent some time with your son and his family.”

“Trade one ranch for another? I don’t think so.”

“Then fly over to England and stay with Laura. If it’s a social life you want, she’ll see that you get one. You know how full her calendar is all the time. I’m surprised she managed to work us in to come for Christmas this year.”

Cat responded with a quick shake of her head. “The weather would be nasty at this time of year over there.”

“Then go on a cruise somewhere warm,” Chase argued, growing a little irritated by her quick dismissals.

“Alone? I don’t think so.” This time the shake of her head was firm and decisive. “Maybe I will fly back to Texas with Quint after Christmas. But if I do, it will be to spend some time with my new grandson, Josh.” Cat smiled just thinking about the nearly two-year-old toddler and his head of red hair. “Face it, Dad—not everyone gets a second chance at love.”

“And you damned sure won’t if you sit around here waiting for it to come to you,” he informed her.

This time she didn’t rise to his baiting tone. “Enough, Dad. Why don’t you come out to the kitchen and give me a hand with lunch? As you so succinctly put it—you’re old, not an invalid.”

“Don’t get smart with me, girl,” he warned but with a half smile. “This time you take care of lunch by yourself. I’ve got some thinking to do.”

Catching the serious note in his voice, Cat eyed him curiously. “About what?”

“Guess you can blame Jake and all his talk about Christmas and presents.” His gaze shifted to a front window as sunlight flared off the windshield of a pickup reversing away from the house. Jessy sat in the cab’s passenger seat. “For one reason or another, it’s been a good many years since all of us have been together for the holidays. It’d be good if I could come up with special gifts for each of you to mark the occasion.”

“It would be,” Cat agreed readily and turned to leave, adding over her shoulder, “Just give me your list once you have it done and I’ll get them for you.”

His response was a laugh like snort. “Yeah, you’d like to know what your present’s going to be. I know you. This year I’ll do my own shopping, thank you.”

Cat started to protest, then shook her head in amusement. “Whatever you say, but you’re going to find out shopping isn’t as easy as you seem to think it is.” She continued out of the den bound for the kitchen.

Chase could have told her that the difficulty usually depended on the object a person wanted to buy. But he wasn’t about to arouse her curiosity any further, and wisely kept his silence while he pondered the possibilities. One was obvious; the rest weren’t.

Chapter 2

By noonday, the chinook wind had diminished in strength to a stiff breeze. Most of the ranch yard’s snow cover had melted; only the occasional shrunken drift lingered in the sheltered areas.

Crossing the ranch yard, Trey Calder angled toward the heavy-timbered bar. Christened Chase Benteen at birth he was the third Calder to bear that name. The distinction had early on earned him the nickname of Trey, and he’d answered to Trey ever since. The outdoor life of a rancher had left a bronze cast to the hard angles and planes of his face, features that were a hallmark of male Calders. He stood three inches over six foot in his stocking feet. The riding heels of his cowboy boots added another couple inches to that.

As he neared the barn, the side Dutch door swung open. Out hopped his young son who instantly clamped a hand on top of his cowboy hat to keep the wind from blowing it off. Trey allowed a small smile to play with the corners of his mouth at Jake’s action then flicked a brief, identifying glance at Sloan when she appeared in the doorway behind their son.

By then Jake had spotted him. “Hi, Dad.” He broke into a run, but the muddy ground sucked at his boots, giving a clumsy gait. “Wha’cha doing?”

“Looking for you.”

“Guess you don’t have to look anymore ’cause I’m here, huh?” Jake reasoned.

“That’s right.” Trey slipped an arm around Sloan when she joined them. “What have you two been up to?”

“I been working, Dad,” Jake declared very matter-of-factly.

Fighting back a smile, Trey worked to match his young son’s tone. “Get a lot done, did you?”

“Yup.”

“Really.” But the sideways glance he gave Sloan was skeptical.

“It’s true,” she assured him, with mock seriousness. “He helped feed the horses and gave Jobe a hand cleaning out the stalls, then held a horse for Tank while he trimmed its hooves.”

“Tank said I was a real good helper.” Jake fairly beamed with pride at the remembered praise.

“With all the work you’ve been doing, I’ll bet you’re hungry,” Trey guessed.

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