Jenny shivered

all the way down her spine.

She told herself it was because of the cold wind that blew into the kitchen in the quick second before Zach turned to close the door. But it wasn’t.

The cold had turned the man into someone who looked as if he belonged on one of those calendars. He was Mr. December.

Just look at him, she thought in dismay. She wasn’t supposed to meet a man like Zach, whose face would make a nun shiver. But there he stood against the black of the night like some mountain man, covered with snow.

Dear Reader,

Grab a front-row seat on the roller-coaster ride of falling in love. This month, Silhouette Romance offers heart-spinning thrills, including the latest must-read from THE COLTONS saga, a new enchanting SOULMATES title and even a sexy Santa!

Become a fan—if you aren’t hooked already!—of THE COLTONS with the newest addition to the legendary family saga, Teresa Southwick’s Sky Full of Promise (#1624), about a stone-hearted doctor in search of a temporary fiancée. And single men don’t stay so for long in Jodi O’Donnell’s BRIDGEWATER BACHELORS series. The next rugged Texan loses his solo status in His Best Friend’s Bride (#1625).

Love is magical, and it’s especially true in our wonderful SOULMATES series, which brings couples together in extraordinary ways. In DeAnna Talcott’s Her Last Chance (#1628), virgin heiress Mallory Chevalle travels thousands of miles in search of a mythical horse—and finds her destiny in the arms of a stubborn, but irresistible rancher. And a case of amnesia reunites past lovers—but the heroine’s painful secret could destroy her second chance at happiness, in Valerie Parv’s The Baron & the Bodyguard, the latest exciting installment in THE CARRAMER LEGACY.

To get into the holiday spirit, enjoy Janet Tronstad’s Stranded with Santa (#1626), a fun-loving romp about a rodeo megastar who gets stormbound with a beautiful young widow. Then, discover how to melt a Scrooge’s heart in Moyra Tarling’s Christmas Due Date (#1629)

I hope you enjoy these stories, and please keep in touch!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

Stranded with Santa
Janet Tronstad

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated to my good friend,

Darlene Hanson,

and her mother,

Pearl Hanson

Books by Janet Tronstad

Silhouette Romance

Stranded with Santa #1626

Steeple Hill Love Inspired

*An Angel for Dry Creek #81

*A Gentleman for Dry Creek #110

*A Bride for Dry Creek #138

*A Rich Man for Dry Creek #176

JANET TRONSTAD

grew up on a small farm in central Montana. One of her favorite things to do was to visit her grandfather’s bookshelves, where he had a large collection of Zane Grey novels. She’s always loved a good story.

Today, Janet lives in Pasadena, California, where she works in the research department of a medical organization. In addition to writing novels, she researches and writes nonfiction magazine articles.

Dear Santa,

I’ve been a good boy all year.

The reason I’m writing is to let you know we moved after my dad died. We’re in Montana now. Me and my sister like it here. There’s bugs all over and rabbits and snakes. My mom is scared of the snakes.

That’s why I need a cowboy outfit for Christmas, like the kind Zach “Lightning” Lucas wears. If I had one, I could rope some rabbits and shoot the snakes so my mom wouldn’t be scared.

I know about money and how there’s not much around, so if a cowboy outfit is too expensive maybe you could send a real cowboy instead. Then my mom wouldn’t be scared of nothing.

Thanks,

Andy Collins

P.S. My sister wants one of those princess crowns with jewels on it.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Chapter One

Zach Lucas stood on a weathered old porch in the small town of Deep Gulch, Montana, and scowled as the gray sky darkened even further. “It’s going to snow.”

Dr. Norris, the only vet in Deep Gulch, Montana, shrugged as he cheerfully slipped another handful of candy canes into the mail bag Zach had slung over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about the snow. The postal truck always makes it through. You’ll do fine.”

The doctor had made a bargain with Zach. It was Saturday, December 23, and Zach was to deliver the mail along the rural route outside of Deep Gulch so that the doctor, who had promised he would do his sister’s mail route in her absence, could tend to Zach’s sick horse instead.

It was a perfect bargain except for one small thing. Zach hated it.

If he wasn’t so worried about his horse, Zach would never have agreed. It wasn’t that he had anything against delivering the mail. That was no problem. What was a problem was delivering it the way the doctor’s sister wanted it done. She wanted it to look like Santa himself was out there delivering the letters this close to Christmas.

Zach pushed his Stetson hat lower on his head. He didn’t know anyone in this crazy one-stop town, but he still hoped no one saw him as he stood on the doctor’s porch. He was Zach “Lightning” Lucas and he had a reputation to uphold—a reputation that didn’t include a fuzzy red fat-suit and a plastic black belt. It was bad enough that the four-wheel-drive postal truck had a fake set of reindeer horns tied to the grill and a ball of mistletoe swinging from the antenna. He didn’t need Christmas fuzz all over him, too.

Zach grimaced as red and green flashes met his eyes. The lightbulbs hanging from the reindeer horns were on a timer. When he first saw them, he’d hoped they were merely ornamental. No such luck.

Zach didn’t know how much holiday nonsense he could take. After all, he was Zach “Lightning” Lucas. He had more gold-plated champion belt buckles than most men had ties. He had fans who knew his name—lots of fans since he’d endorsed that Ranger breakfast cereal. People recognized him in grocery stores and in laundromats. He was famous, for Pete’s sake. He was entitled to some dignity.

Unfortunately, the doctor did not care about Zach’s dignity.

And it was all because of Christmas. Not that Zach should be surprised. Christmas had been giving him trouble for years. It always depressed him with all that family stuff. Not that Zach had anything against families—it’s just that that family stuff wasn’t for a man like him.

That’s why, this year, he had made a plan.

Zach and Thunder were only passing through Montana, heading over to Interstate 15 for the long stretch down to Las Vegas. Once there, Thunder would board at a ranch some miles outside of Vegas while Zach hit the Strip. The neon lights and showgirls—well, if her return message was to be believed, one showgirl in particular—would make him forget the holidays were even here.

He and Thunder had been making good time, too, Zach thought mournfully, until Thunder got a fever.

“You’ve got the map.” The older man patted his pockets as though the slip of paper showing all the county roads might still be there instead of taped to the dashboard of the postal truck.

“Yes, sir.”

The winter air had a bite to it, but Zach was in no hurry to leave the doctor’s porch and get into that decked-out postal truck. He might as well ride around in a clown’s cart and be done with it.

“Well then, let me get that apple pie my sister baked for the Collins family.” Dr. Norris ducked inside his house, his muffled voice continuing, “That’ll be the last stop on your list. And the box in back is for them, too. Their car is broken. Radiator. So Delores said she’d pick some things up for them.” The doctor appeared again with a foil-wrapped pie. “Two of the cutest kids you’ll ever meet.”

Zach nodded. He’d already met every kid on the planet—both the cute and the ugly. The ones he missed at the rodeos he met because they ate Ranger breakfast cereal. Not that he was complaining. He liked kids better than he liked most adults.

The doctor smiled and looked at Zach slyly. “’Course, one look at their mother and you’ll see why they’re so cute.”

Zach grunted. Now that was the part of meeting kids he didn’t like—their mothers. Even the women who were married always seemed to have a scheme to get him married off to someone. You’d think there was something wrong with a man choosing to live in hotel rooms and wash his socks in bathroom sinks.

The doctor shook his head. “The poor woman. Such a pity—”

The doctor looked at Zach as though he expected some curiosity.

Zach had none.

The doctor ploughed ahead, anyway. “Jenny Collins is a widow. Not that she’s old, mind you. No, sir. Moved up here a couple of months ago—surprised us all. She’d been married to Jeb Collins’s nephew.” The doctor nodded at Zach as though Zach had known this Jeb, whoever he was. “Jeb had left the place to his nephew, but we all thought the nephew would have sense enough to sell it before he started dying of that cancer of his. But he didn’t. Don’t know what he was thinking. Surely he didn’t expect his widow to move up here with the two kids. What do you think a city woman’s gonna do with a place like that anyway?”

Zach shrugged. He didn’t like to get involved in the problems of strangers.

The doctor had no such hesitation. “Delores says the woman’s been getting magazines on farm management!” He shook his head. “She’s a game one, I’ll give her that. But it’s no place for her and the kids—even old man Collins used to move into town here for the winter months. The house doesn’t even have a decent road leading up to it. Ruts a mile deep, and it drifts closed every time there’s a blizzard.”

The doc took a breath before he continued. “Delores always drives the mail right up to the house for them. But with the next hard snow they won’t get mail for a week. The county snowplow doesn’t go that far out. Most farmers out that way have plows on their tractors or something. But all the woman’s got is that car of hers—and with the two little ones—Delores worries about their car not working.”

Delores, Zach had already learned, worried about everything and everybody.

The doctor stopped suddenly and squinted at Zach. “What Jenny Collins needs is a husband.”

Zach looked at the doctor in amazement and then pushed his hat farther down on his head. “Don’t look at me. I’m just trying to get my horse fixed up. Besides, from the sounds of it, she needs a tractor worse than she needs a husband.”

The doctor shrugged. “I doubt you’d stand a chance, anyway. I hear Max Daniel is planning to ask her out—he’s a rancher north of here. ’Course Tom Fox might beat him to the punch. A good-looking woman like Jenny can have her pick of the bachelors around here.”

Zach grunted. Ever since he started making money at rodeoing, he’d had women who wanted him to settle down. Made him nervous as a rope-tied calf every time a woman talked about it. Anyone with any sense could see that the life he’d led didn’t prepare him for marriage.

Not that he didn’t like women. He did. He just had sense enough to know his limitations. He didn’t even have a year-round mailing address; he’d be a fool to think he would be any good at marriage.

“Yeah, well, it was only a thought,” the doctor said as he pointed to the back of the truck. “Now, you remember what I said about the camera back there. Delores promised Jenny pictures of her little boy with Santa, and I’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t remember to take one.”

“Pictures.” Zach grimaced. “I’m not much good at pictures.”

“What? You can’t tell me that. Even I’ve seen your picture in the paper. You looked okay to me.”

“Well, the news photos—and the ads—they’re all right. But they’re not, well, personal.”

Zach didn’t know how to explain his reluctance to have a picture of him in some family album along with pictures of babies and grandmas. He’d feel a fraud. A family photo album was one place he didn’t belong.

“There’s nothing to a Santa picture,” the doctor said, pushing ahead anyway. “It’s one of those cameras that prints out a picture while you wait. Jenny will even take the picture for you. And Delores said to leave it, in case Jenny wants to take other Christmas shots.”

Zach nodded in defeat. What was Delores going for…mail carrier of the year?

“And don’t forget about old Mrs. Goussley. She has a sweet tooth. Delores always gives her a few extra candy canes.” The doctor winked “Say they’re for her cats. She’ll give them back if you say they’re for her.”

“Cats,” Zach repeated bleakly. Forget mail carrier of the year, Delores must be going for sainthood.

“Mrs. Goussley likes her visit from Santa. She gets a kick out of the suit.” The doc eyed Zach. “I know my sister got carried away this year with putting those flashing lights around Santa’s belt, but you can keep them pressed off if you want. Plus the suit’s warm—all that padding. Still it might not be enough. Gets cold out there. Could drop to zero before you get back.”

“I’ve got a sheepskin coat if it does.” Zach had put his duffel bag and the coat in the postal truck. The sheepskin was imitation, but of good enough quality to be worth a pretty penny. It wasn’t something he’d leave behind. Not that he didn’t trust the doctor, but he’d worked enough rodeos to know never to leave his duffel with strangers.

“Oh, well then,” the doctor muttered as he walked toward the truck. “I’ll just put this pie inside and let you get going. Remember, now, the brakes turn a little to the left if you happen to be going downhill.”

Zach nodded. He was definitely going downhill. Playing Santa to an old lady and her cats. Zach “Lightning” Lucas. He shook his head and pulled his Stetson down farther.

He sure hoped no one saw him.

Jenny Collins looked out the kitchen window again. Gray stormclouds almost covered the square butte west of her place. It was starting to snow, and the mail hadn’t come yet. Delores had told her the doctor might be late with the mail, but he’d see the package got to them. It wasn’t much, but it had the few presents she’d been able to get for the children, and she was anxious for them to arrive. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve day and, since it would be Sunday, there’d be no mail delivery then.

She had kept thinking she would get the car running, so Jenny had not sent her list in with Delores until a few days ago. The box should contain a water pistol for Andy, a paint kit for Lisa, and much-needed mittens and scarves for them both. Four-year-old Andy really wanted a cowboy outfit with a hat, and eight-year-old Lisa really wanted a princess tiara, but they were both too expensive and nowhere to be found in Deep Gulch anyway.

Maybe next year, Jenny consoled herself. She’d surely think of a way to make some money soon. She had to. She’d just spent everything except a few hundred dollars filling the propane tank so the furnace would keep going for the next few months. If nothing else, she wanted to be generous with heat when it came to their place.

Their place. She repeated the phrase to herself in satisfaction. This Christmas it would be enough that they had a home that was all their own, even if the roof leaked on the south side of the living room and the linoleum in the kitchen had more cracks than color left. Still, the place had three bedrooms and no mortgage. She was glad her husband had forgotten he had the deed to this place. It was the one thing she had left when the estate was settled.

She’d go looking for a job after Christmas. She’d have to go to Deep Gulch each day, anyway, once she enrolled Lisa in the school there.

Jenny had talked to the second-grade teacher, and they’d agreed Lisa could start in January. Surely by then Jenny would have the car running.

In the meantime, they were happy enough. Maybe more than happy. Jenny had always dreamed of living in a small town like Deep Gulch. Her dreams even included a mail carrier like Delores.

Jenny and her family had rented a house for eight years on that wretched street in El Monte, just east of Los Angeles, and the mail delivery people there changed routes so often she doubted any of them knew her face let alone her name. Here, Delores greeted Jenny like a friend and spoiled the kids with dinosaur candy and news of her own grandchildren.

Yes, Deep Gulch was home. Jenny just needed to find a way to make her piece of home support them.

“Mom, I see her coming!” Andy’s voice carried from the back bedroom. He was obviously looking out the window himself.

“Get down off those boxes, Andrew Joel.” If he could see out the window, it meant he was standing on the boxes again. Jenny didn’t intend to leave everything in boxes for long. She just hadn’t been able to buy dressers or book shelves or cabinets—none of the furniture that stored things.

Jenny had left all their furniture in California. She’d had to. Their savings wouldn’t stretch to paying off the funeral expenses and hiring a moving van, as well. Besides, she’d hoped there might be furniture in the house already.

That hope died when she took one look at the outside of the house and realized the inside probably wasn’t much better. The property wasn’t what she had expected. She doubted anything but thistle had grown on the place for the past ten years. The acreage was fenced, but half of the fence was down. The only trees were short scrub ones, and she’d already heard from someone at the store in Deep Gulch that the creek at the bottom of the coulee had been dry for the past five years.

Still, Jenny knew this was their home. Even though it had already turned cold before they moved, the children liked to be outside. They had a freedom they had never known around Los Angeles.

If the children were happy, Jenny could live without furniture for a few months. She’d told the kids they’d pretend they were camping. So far, they hadn’t complained.

“But she’s coming!” Andrew said as he ran out of the bedroom door and down the small hallway. “She’s coming to get my letter.”

“Oh, dear. I forgot,” Jenny remembered that Delores had promised Andy she’d take his letter special delivery to the North Pole so that Santa could read it before he began his trip tomorrow. Jenny had helped him write the letter so she had known for days what it said. She just hadn’t realized he wanted the letter mailed until recently. “I’m afraid it won’t be Delores getting the mail today. Her brother is taking the route for her.”

“The guy who showed me that runny pig?”

“Runt. The pig was a runt. And, yes, that’s the man.”

“Can he find the North Pole?”

“I’m sure he can,” Jenny said. Dr. Norris was a nice man. She was sure he’d play along with Andy’s fantasy. Andy was at the age when he was starting to doubt Santa Claus, but he wasn’t ready to give up hope yet.

Or maybe, Jenny thought, she was the one not willing for him to give up his fantasy. His young life had been so difficult. He’d never really had a father. At least not one who showed any interest in him.

Stephen had made it plain to Jenny even before they married that he wasn’t a family man. Jenny had thought he would change—surely a man would care about his own children. But Stephen never had. Stephen had lived his life apart from the family as much as possible ever since her oldest, Lisa, was born.

No, it wouldn’t hurt Andy to believe in Santa for another year.

Zach twisted the wheel to keep the postal truck on the road. The doctor hadn’t exaggerated when he’d complained about the ruts to the Collins place. No wonder the woman’s car was down for the count. There probably wasn’t a nut or bolt in the vehicle that hadn’t been shaken to within an inch of its life.

The road matched the house at its end. A bright patch of white paint around the door made the rest of the house look even more faded. He suspected this Collins woman didn’t know that paint needed to be applied in warmer, dryer weather. Of course, he supposed it did get the message across that someone was living there. Without that paint and the yellow curtains in the kitchen window, the place would look deserted.

The land itself looked like no one had ever cared for it. Flat and gray, the land stretched out in all directions with nothing but half-melted lumps of old snow drifts and a few scrub trees on it. The gray patches were gathering a coating of white as the snowflakes started to fall. In the distance Zach saw a few buttes rising up from the ground, but they were so far away he didn’t pay them any attention.

A woman opened the door as Zach pulled the postal truck to a stop. She was hugging an unbuttoned man’s flannel shirt around her shoulders and was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. A young girl stood on one side of her and an even younger boy on the other.

Zach unlatched the side door and stepped out of the postal truck. The north wind was already turning bitter, so he walked along the south side of the truck until he reached the vehicle’s back door. Cold, hard flakes of snow hit against his face.

Zach had given up and put the Santa beard and hat on before he even got to Mrs. Goussley’s. It was the cookies that had done it. Every place he stopped someone shoved a plate of homemade cookies into his hands. He explained that he wasn’t Delores—shoot, he wasn’t even the doctor—he wasn’t entitled to any cookies. But no one listened. It was Christmas, they said, and he looked like a nice young man.

He hadn’t been called a nice young man since he’d started riding rodeo.

He was getting soft, he thought glumly as he yanked the furry red cap farther down on his head and snapped the fake white beard into place. The cardboard box marked “Collins” and the pie were all the mail left to deliver.

Zach lifted the two things up. It would only take a minute to get the box up to the porch. Once there, he’d see about a quick Santa picture with the kids and head back to town. Maybe Thunder would be able to travel by then. If Zach was lucky, he’d be in the arms of that showgirl by Christmas after all.

Even from a distance Zach could see the woman was younger than he’d thought she would be. He’d guess her age at twenty-five or twenty-six. He shared the doctor’s surprise that she’d taken on a farm in the middle of Montana. He would expect someone like her to move into one of the cities like Billings or maybe Missoula. Someplace that had a video store and a beauty shop.

Not that it was any of his worry. She could live on the moon for all he cared.

“Package,” Zach said when he got close enough to the porch to thrust the package at the woman.

Short blond curls blew around her face, and up close he confirmed his opinion of her. Even in the cold, she would draw some attention in a crowd. The wind had turned her nose pink to match her cheeks.

Zach had a momentary wish he’d taken the Santa suit off before he’d made his last delivery. Lots of women had a weakness for cowboys. He’d never heard of a woman yet who thought a fat, polyester Santa was sexy.

Not that he was interested in what this woman or any woman in this part of Montana thought about him. What he’d told the doctor had been true—he was just delivering the mail and then passing through.

If Zach had been paying attention to what he was doing instead of admiring the woman in front of him, he would have seen her eyes sooner. Startled blue eyes looked straight at him.

“It’s the mail,” Zach clarified. No one else had greeted him with anything remotely like panic. Maybe she thought he was some kind of kook. “The suit’s for the old ladies. Well, that and the pictures. Delores wanted you to have one with your kids.”

“Where’s the doctor?”

“Back in town looking after my horse.”

“You’ve got a horse.” The young boy looked around his mother’s thigh and up at Zach. His eyes shone with wonder. “A real horse.”

The two children stood on either side of the woman. The boy’s jeans were neatly patched at the knees, and he obviously took his fair share of tumbles; the girl’s clothes were well washed but showed no sign of stains or tears. Not even little ones. The boy’s eyes had already welcomed Zach, but the girl’s were more careful.

“Thunder’s as real as a horse can be, even when he’s sick,” Zach said. “In his day, he was the best bucking bronc around.”

“Santa has reindeer—not horses,” the young girl pointedly corrected Zach as she crossed her arms. Zach pegged her age at seven. Maybe eight. “You need to get the story straight.”

“It’s no story,” Zach protested. “I’m not—”

The woman’s eyes widened in even more alarm and Zach stopped. He looked back down at the young boy.

“—in a hurry,” Zach fumbled. Were there still kids left that believed in Santa Claus? Apparently so. “I’m not in a hurry at all.”

The woman smiled in relief.

Now, that woman should smile more often, Zach thought. She was pretty without it, but when she smiled she made him think of one of those soap ads where they try to picture springtime. It might be twenty degrees below zero on this porch right now, but when he looked at her he could almost see the green meadow she should be walking through.

But, Zach reminded himself, he wasn’t here to think of meadows. He was here to deliver the mail, snap a picture and give away the last of those blasted candy canes.

“I have something for you in my pocket.” Zach had moved the last of the candy canes from the bag to his pocket several stops back. “Just let me set this box down inside the house and I’ll get it out for you.”

Zach didn’t notice that the alarm on the woman’s face turned to dismay.

“I can take the package,” Jenny offered. She wasn’t ready for company.

“No problem. I’ve got it,” Zach said as he stepped up to the door the boy was opening.

“But I can—” Jenny started to repeat even as she watched the man walk into her kitchen. Great, she thought. Just what she needed—some man in a Santa suit seeing her house. Every man she had ever known expected a woman to keep a neat house. Stacks of boxes and fold-up furniture would hardly qualify as neat.

She hoped the beard would hide his disapproval. Although, she told herself with a tilt of her chin, it wasn’t any of his business what kind of a housekeeper she was.

Chapter Two

“I haven’t had a chance to get to town much yet,” Jenny said defensively as she stepped through the kitchen doorway behind the man. She hadn’t minded when Delores Norris had come inside and sat on one of the folding chairs. But a strange man was different. “I’ve been meaning to find some used furniture or something.”

The man set the box and a foil-wrapped pie down on the kitchen counter and started patting his pockets.

The kitchen counter was covered with tiles so old the white had turned yellow, but Jenny had scrubbed the grout clean. The floor, too, was spotlessly clean even though the linoleum was cracked. No one could say the place was dirty, she reminded herself, even if they could say it lacked almost everything else to recommend it.

“I’ve asked about garage sales—then I’ll be able to buy a few things,” Jenny continued before realizing the man was not only not listening, but he hadn’t even taken a good look around. He probably didn’t realize that all that stood in the kitchen was a broom in one corner and the folding card table and chairs that sat square in the middle.

“I must have another candy cane here someplace.” The Santa man turned and held up one candy cane. The plastic around the red-and-white cane was wrinkled and looked as if it had been slept on. “I’m sure I couldn’t have given them all out already.”

The man continued patting his pockets a little frantically. “I gave one for each of the cats—that was five—and a few extra when she said one of the cats was going to have kittens—and then she gave me that plate of cookies, and I had to give her some for that—but I should still have—”

Zach made another pass at checking the pocket on his right. The suit only had the two large pockets, and they had both been full of candy canes. He shouldn’t have given so many to Mrs. Goussley and her cats. Not when two children were waiting at the end of the route. “Maybe one dropped out in the truck. I’ll go see.”

Zach smiled at the kids to show they could trust him. The boy smiled back, so excited he was almost spinning. The girl eyed Zach suspiciously. No smile there. She clearly had her doubts about him and the promised candy cane. Well, he didn’t blame her. At least she wasn’t whining about it.

Zach walked toward the door. “I’ll go with you,” Jenny said, as she turned to the two children. “You two stay here.”

“But, Mom, I gotta—”

“Stay here,” the woman interrupted the young boy. “We’ll be right back. I want to talk to Santa.”

“But, Mom,” the boy persisted. “I gotta—”

“Later. I need to talk to Santa alone.” The young woman used her best mother voice. Gentle but firm.

Zach forgot all about the candy canes. Maybe Santa did have a little sex appeal if an attractive young woman was willing to take a walk in freezing temperatures just to talk to him privately. But he knew that a woman like her was trouble. He’d feel hog-tied after the second date. He’d have to tell her he was just passing through.

Zach took another look at the woman’s face and hesitated. Maybe he was being too cautious about dating. Just because a second date was out of the question, that didn’t mean a first date was impossible. Even a woman like that wouldn’t have expectations on a first date, would she? A first date was a test with no commitment whatsoever. And that’s all it would be. One date. He could put off starting down to Vegas until morning and still make it. Maybe he should ask her out for dinner tonight. He didn’t see any restaurants in Deep Gulch, but people must go out somewhere.

“Where do people go around here for fun?” Zach asked as he opened the door for the woman.

It was only four o’clock in the afternoon, but the cold pinched at Zach’s nose and he was grateful for the warmth of that beard on his face. The temperature had dipped a few degrees just in the time they had been inside. A full-fledged storm was coming.

“Fun?” The woman looked at him blankly. She crossed her arms against the cold and walked out the door, headed toward the postal truck.

Zach closed the door and hurried to follow. He could see the goose bumps on her neck in the strip between her collar and her hair. Pinpricks of snow still swirled around in the wind. “You need to wear something heavier than that flannel shirt when you’re outside.”

The woman walked faster. Her teeth chattered so he could hardly make out her words. “It’ll do.”

Zach opened the passenger door to the postal truck. The handle was icy to his touch. “Here. Sit inside.”

Zach closed the passenger door and quickly walked around to the driver’s side.

“You’ve heard of the North Pole?” the woman asked when Zach was inside and seated.

“That some kind of night club?” Zach was feeling more hopeful. Now they were talking fun. She didn’t look like the kind of a woman to go to some pole-dancing night club, but you never could tell. Maybe he wouldn’t even need to go to Vegas to find some Christmas cheer. Pole dancing was as good as the showgirl stuff anyday.

“Huh?” the woman looked bewildered.

“The doc could watch the kids,” Zach thought out loud. He felt a little bad about the kids, but the old doctor would treat them fine. He probably even had more of those candy canes. The kids could do without their mother for one night. Shoot, some kids would be glad to spend a night apart from their mother.

“The North Pole,” the woman repeated as if she had doubts about his mental abilities. “You know—that place where Santa Claus makes his toys.”

“Oh.” So much for pole dancing. Zach reached up and turned on the heat. The engine was still warm and gave off a soft wave of hot air. “I didn’t know you meant that North Pole. Sure, I know it.”

“Well, Andy is going to give you a letter to deliver to Santa Claus at the North Pole. Just go along with it, okay?”

“Sure,” Zach shrugged. “I’ll tell him I ride my horse, Thunder, right up there every night.”

Jenny frowned. “Don’t overdo it. He’s four, but he’s not gullible.”

Zach refrained from pointing out that the boy still believed in Santa Claus. “Anything you say.”

Zach smiled.

Jenny frowned.

Zach got a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror and frowned, too. No wonder the woman was still cool to him. He looked like a lunatic. His beard was crooked and, instead of hair, it looked as if it were made of yarn that some cat had chewed. Zach pulled the beard down past his chin and let it settle around his neck. He pushed the Santa hat far enough back on his head so that she could see his hair. That should make her relax.

It didn’t.

Jenny’s frown turned to an expression of alarm. “You look just like that…that cowboy on the cereal box.”

Zach relaxed. He was home free. She’d seen the Ranger boxes. “He’s me—I mean, I’m him.”

“But you can’t be.”

Jenny tried not to stare at the man’s face. His cheekbones were high; his eyebrows black and fierce looking when he wasn’t smiling. It was the middle of winter and his tan was only partially faded. The golden flecks in his brown eyes saved his face from being too severe. Nothing saved it from being the handsomest face she had ever seen.

Jenny had dreamed of that face ever since Andy had convinced her to buy the first box of that cereal a year ago. She must have bought three dozen boxes this last year alone. And that wasn’t the worst of it. She’d been talking to the box.

Jenny was a private person and she didn’t admit her unhappiness to anyone. But, one morning at a solitary breakfast, she’d poured out her troubles to the face on the back of the box and she’d been talking to it ever since. Only the face on the box knew of her disappointment with her marriage. To the rest of the world, her marriage was fine and her husband was the good-natured man he appeared to be to others. But the box knew the truth.

She’d told that box things she wouldn’t have admitted to a priest, and now it sat before her. She felt betrayed. Pictures on cereal boxes were not supposed to spring to life in front of your eyes.

“—you just can’t be him.”

“Well, everybody’s got to be somebody.”

Jenny panicked. Not only was the face here, it was—unless she missed her guess—also teasing her. Maybe even flirting with her. It was awful—like the Pope asking you out on a date. “You’ll have to go.”

Okay, Zach thought to himself. Definitely not a pole dancer. Which was fine. He had his good time waiting in Vegas. “Just give me a minute to find another one of those candy canes and I’ll be happy to head out. I need to get back before the storm hits anyway.”

Jenny looked up. “I thought you said you’d take a picture with Andy.”

“I did, but I thought you were, well, in a hurry for me to leave.”

“No, I’m just, well, I don’t want to take more of your time. But a picture only takes a second.”

Jenny forced herself to look the man in the face. It wasn’t his fault she’d started talking to his picture.

“Okay. Fine. Whatever you want.”

Jenny forced herself to smile. “It’s just that you’re the only Santa around.”

Zach grunted. “No problem.”

“And I appreciate you bringing out everything for Delores. And the candy canes, too. That was very nice of you.”

“Delores bought the canes. I’m just passing them out for her.”

“Still…”

Zach noted that the woman’s face had relaxed. The goose bumps had left. The air inside the truck wasn’t white with trails of exhaled air. “Not a problem. I’ll even tell that boy of yours I’ll take his letter to Santa.”

“I’m sorry I can’t—I mean, I don’t date anyway—not that you were asking me out.” Jenny stopped in embarrassment.

“Oh, but I was asking you out. At least I was heading in that general direction.”

Jenny couldn’t help but notice he sounded a little too cheerful for someone who had just been turned down.

“Well, I appreciate that. I’m just sorry I can’t accept.”

“It’s okay,” Zach felt around the side of his seat and found not one but two candy canes. Hallelujah! He’d soon be out of here. “I suppose you tried the cereal and didn’t like it—or you thought the manufacturer shouldn’t say it is the cereal real cowboys eat when everybody knows cowboys don’t eat anything but beans and trail dust.”

“No, actually, I like the cereal. And I think cowboys would like it if they had a chance to try it. It’s great—real nutty.”

Zach nodded and didn’t make the obvious comparison. “So you like the cereal. You just object to the box.”

Jenny nodded sheepishly. “I guess it is kind of odd.”

“No problem.” Zach smiled to show it was okay. He’d been bucked by broncs. He’d learned how to take his lumps in life. If the woman was that set against him, he’d let it be. Better times were waiting for him. “I’ll just take this other candy cane into the house and pick up the letter from—what’s the kid’s name again?”

“Andy.”

“So I’ll pick up the letter from Andy, do our bit with the camera and be on my way back to the doctor’s.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

Zach shrugged as he opened the driver’s door on the postal truck. “Don’t mention it.”

To show there were no hard feelings, Zach walked around and opened the passenger door, as well. “Some folks think the picture on the box is just some dress-up modeling job. But it isn’t. The cereal company asked to put my picture on the box because I won the All-Pro Championship in bronc riding last fall.”

“Oh, I didn’t think they used your picture because of your looks.” Jenny gracefully stepped out of the truck and almost immediately folded her arms in front of her for warmth.

Zach admitted complete defeat. Most women found him attractive. He wasn’t fool enough to go after one who didn’t. Especially not when he was out in the middle of nowhere and the sky was turning a serious gray.

“Storm’s coming,” Zach offered as they walked toward the house. He suddenly understood why Delores worried so much over this little family. He felt some of that same worry tugging at him. There wasn’t another house around for miles. “You got enough supplies stored up and everything? A winter storm in southern Montana can be a fierce thing.”

“I know that.”

Zach wondered how she could know that. He didn’t ask, but she must have caught the drift of his disbelieving thoughts.

“I may not have lived through one of the storms here, but even in Los Angeles they have guidebooks that talk about Montana.”

Zach groaned inside. She’d learned about Montana storms from a guidebook.

The few snowflakes that were falling had a dry sting to them. Zach knew that meant the coming storm would be cold enough to freeze a person. Some folks thought the large wet flakes signaled the worst storms, but they didn’t. The wet flakes generally meant more snow, but the dry ones foretold a swift and merciless drop in temperature. And with the wind that could be dangerous.

“The electrical will probably go out. Are you set for that?”

Jenny turned to look at him squarely and lifted her chin. She was standing on her porch and she could still feel the pinch of the cold in her nose. She could see the sky was going deep gray and she could hear the grumbling in the air. “We have a propane furnace. And I have some oil lamps if the lights go out.”

Zach grunted.

The door on the house popped open when they stepped near it. Andy, the little boy, had been waiting for them to come back and must have heard their steps on the porch.

“Hi, there, Andy.” Zach stepped inside behind Jenny. At least the little boy liked him.

Zach revised that opinion. The boy was looking at him like he’d sprouted a second head.

“Santa Claus?”

Zach grabbed for his chin. He’d forgotten the beard.

Jenny met his eyes in alarm. She took a quick breath. “Santa shaved.”

Zach slipped the beard back over his chin. But it was too late. The kid was bewildered.

Then the confusion on Andy’s face slowly cleared as though he finally understood a big secret. Zach felt a momentary pang, but then decided it was just as well the kid learned the truth about Santa Claus.

Zach looked over at Jenny. She was signaling him desperately to do something.

Zach figured there wasn’t much to be done.

“He’d find out someday anyway—now that he’s a big boy.” Zach threw the boy a bone. He knelt down until his eyes were level with the boy’s. “Isn’t that right? You’re a big boy and big boys can handle the truth about Santa Claus, can’t you?”

Andy nodded happily.

Zach threw Jenny a self-righteous look. He might not be a parent, but he did know some things about little boys. “You’re a real smart big boy to figure out Santa’s secret.”

Zach noticed the girl who stood beside her mother. She rolled her eyes as if Zach was hopeless.

Andy nodded eagerly and leaned forward to whisper. “I know the secret. Santa’s a cowboy—he’s you—Lightnin’ Lucas.”

“Well, now, that’s not exactly true.” Zach stalled. Maybe he didn’t understand a little boy’s mind as much as he thought he did. “I am Lightning Lucas—that’s true—but I’m just wearing a Santa suit. I’m a pretend Santa.”

“I have cowboy pajamas,” Andy nodded happily as he danced from one foot to the other. “That’s pretend. Want to see?”

“Sure, I guess.” Zach looked up at Jenny to get direction.

Jenny gave a reluctant nod. The pajamas had been Andy’s present last Christmas and they were still his most prized possession. “Why don’t you bring them out here and let Mr. Lucas see them when you give him your letter? I think he’ll still take it for you.”

Jenny lifted a questioning eyebrow at Zach.

Zach bristled. He was a man of his word. “Of course I’ll still take the letter. I’ll see the letter gets to the North Pole tonight. Before Santa leaves on his trip tomorrow. I’ll take it personally.”

“Can you fly?” Andy looked at him in awe. “Like the reindeer?”

Zach swallowed and shifted his weight onto his knee. “No, but I know the way to the North Pole and I can drive fast in my truck. Zoom. Zoom. Of course,” he said, fumbling, “nobody should drive fast.”

Zach hoped the kid forgot this conversation before he turned sixteen and got his driving permit.

“Will you take me with you?”

Zach looked over at the little boy looking at him with such shining trust. Like a shy deer, the boy had edged closer and closer to Zach as he knelt beside him until now the boy was practically leaning against Zach’s shoulder. Zach had to swallow again. “Not this time.”

“Why not? I’ll be good.”

Jenny looked down at the man and her boy and felt sad. Andy yearned for a father even more than he yearned to be a cowboy. Maybe after Christmas she should accept a date from that rancher up north who kept asking her out. Even if Jenny didn’t find him very exciting, he was stable.

Jenny had learned the hard way that exciting men weren’t the best family men. She had a second chance to provide a father for her children, and this time she was going to choose carefully. Her children had never known the warmth of a real father. If she married again, it would be for them.

“Of course you’ll be good,” Zach said. “But you see, well, you have to stay and help your mother. There’s a storm coming and she’ll need a big boy like you to help her.”

“Lisa’s bigger. She can help.”

Jenny looked at the helpless expression on Zach’s face and almost laughed. Not many men were a match for a determined four-year-old.

“Of course she can.” Zach searched the room for the girl and didn’t see her. He wondered where she had gone. “It’s just that—” Zach had an inspiration “—Santa’s too busy to see people before he takes his trip. He only talks to the elves.”

The boy looked up in sudden worry. “But my letter.”

“Oh, I’m sure he has time for letters.” Zach started to sweat. He decided he was better off facing a bucking bronc like Black Demon than a child like the one in front of him. He understood a thousand pounds of angry horse better than he did this little boy.

“I’m sure Santa reads all his mail,” Jenny explained. Andy had labored for a full afternoon on his Santa letter, patiently copying the letters Jenny had printed for him.

Jenny hoped that Mr. Lightning understood how precious the letter was he’d offered to deliver. Andy hadn’t thought of anything for days since he wrote that letter.

“Lisa can come, too.” The little boy leaned closer to Zach and confided, “She told me there’s no Santa at the North Pole.” The boy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “She has to do dishes for a month all by herself if I show her that Santa lives there. It’s a bet.”

Jenny saw her son’s blond head leaning close to the man’s dark one. The man’s arm had gone around her son’s shoulders and they were whispering about something she couldn’t make out. She knew children liked their secrets, but she wasn’t sure she wanted this cowboy to share them.

“Mr. Lucas needs to leave soon, Andy,” Jenny reminded her son as she picked up the camera from the counter. Lisa had insisted she was too old for a Santa picture, so Jenny only had to worry about Andy. “Why don’t you go get your letter for him, and I’ll take your picture while you give it to him.”

“It’s here,” Andy said as he moved away from Zach enough to pull a crumpled letter out of his pocket. He handed it up to Zach. “I’ve been saving it.”

The camera flash went off as Jenny snapped a picture.

“I’ll deliver it express mail.” Zach blinked as he took the letter in his hand. The woman hadn’t even given him time to force a smile. “You can trust the U.S. Postal Service.” Zach saluted the boy even though, as far as he knew, the postal service had never had a salute of any kind. But it seemed to reassure the boy.

Zach stood up and looked at the woman. “If you want, you can try a second picture.”

Jenny looked at him.

“I wasn’t smiling.” Zach almost swore. It wasn’t his idea to have his picture in some family album, but if his picture was going to be there it seemed only right that he be smiling.

Jenny shrugged. “The beard covers most of your face anyway.”

Zach nodded. If the woman didn’t care if Santa was smiling, he shouldn’t care. It did make him wonder what Christmas was coming to, however. If anyone should be smiling at Christmas, it was Santa and his helpers. “It’s your picture.”

“Did you get my letter in the picture?” the boy asked.

The woman nodded.

“I drew the stamp myself.” The boy looked up at Zach. “Mom said it was all right.”

Zach bent down and shook the boy’s hand for further assurance. “It’s just the right kind of stamp.”

The kitchen had a window by the sink and one on the opposite wall. The sky was gray out of both windows, and Zach heard the rattle of the wind as it gathered force.

He watched as Jenny pulled the stub of a picture out of the camera.

“Here.” Jenny held the camera out to him.

Zach shook his head. “The doc said you were to keep it over the holidays in case you want to take more pictures.”

“Well, that’s kind of you.”

“Not me. It’s Delores.” Zach shuffled his feet. He wasn’t used to getting so much credit for things he didn’t even do.

“I better get out of here before the storm hits.” Zach pulled his Santa hat back on his head. No one had flipped any light switches, and the light coming into the windows was thin. Fortunately, he could hear the hum of the furnace and a floor vent blew a steady stream of warm air into the room. At least the family had heat.

Zach looked over at the woman who held a still-developing picture in her hand. “You’re sure you’ll be all right now in this storm? If you need to call anyone on the telephone to come sit this storm out with you, I’d do it now. The lines might go down anytime now.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that.” Jenny said. She smiled confidently as if she had someone to call.

Zach nodded. He figured that cereal box wasn’t the only reason the woman wouldn’t go out with him. She must have a boyfriend. Well, he shouldn’t be surprised. The doctor had as much as told him she did. Some rancher—what was his name? Max something.

“Well, I’ll leave, then,” Zach said as he walked toward the door. “I’ll close the door quick behind me so you keep your heat in.”

Jenny watched the man walk to the door. Suddenly she didn’t want him to leave. There was a blizzard coming and she didn’t know what to expect. Even a cereal-box cowboy was better than no one when it came to facing a storm. But she couldn’t ask him to stay. He was a stranger, for goodness sake. Just because she was used to telling her troubles to his face didn’t mean he had any obligation to her.

“You’ve got holiday plans?” she squeaked out as he put his hand on the doorknob.

He turned around and looked at her. “Vegas.”

“Oh. I see. Well, have fun.”

Jenny could kick herself. Of course, the man had plans. It was Christmas, after all. Everyone had plans.

“Thanks.” Zach hesitated. “I could change them if—”

“Of course you can’t change them.” Jenny stiffened her resolve. “I was just asking because I…I mean we…we have plans of our own and I was hoping you had plans, too.”

“I see. Thanks.” Zach turned the knob this time. No sense staying where someone had plans that didn’t include him.

Zach leaned into the wind as he walked to the postal truck. The sky was getting darker in the east. A spray of snowflakes hit his face, even with the beard pulled up. He noticed that he hadn’t closed the back door to the postal truck completely. He walked over and snapped it shut. He didn’t want a chill at his back while he raced this storm back to Deep Gulch.

Zach started the engine on the postal truck and released the brake. Time to get back. It was probably too late to beat the storm to the pass. Unless he missed his guess, he’d be sleeping in the horse trailer tonight while Thunder boarded at the doctor’s barn. In a few hours no one would be doing much driving. Zach just hoped he made it back to the doctor’s before the roads were snowed shut.

He could feel the hard boards of that trailer on his back already.

It was going to be some merry Christmas.

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