The Texan's Christmas
“That hadn’t happened since the first time he’d come here, when he and Chance had fixed up an ancient Ford and the only place he’d wanted to go was to see Lucky. Bud wasn’t known to be the friendliest person in the world and any thoughts that he’d mellowed would be ludicrous.
The white house with the long porch across the front was the same, as were the two rockers and the wind chimes tinkling in the warm breeze. A barn and corral were to the right. It seemed as if nothing had changed in the intervening years. But that wasn’t true. Back then he and Lucky were kids exploring life in the only way they knew. Today they were adults and he hoped they could talk like grown-ups without getting sidetracked by all the emotions of youth.
He got out of his truck and walked to the front door. It opened before he could knock. Lucky’s beautiful face was tight with worry, and her eyes guarded. She made no move to undo the latch on the screen door. Cool air wafted through from the air-conditioning.
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