Small Town Christmas Read online

  Before Sam could do more than sputter, Rachel Dean’s voice rang out.

  “Why, Samantha Henderson, I thought that was you!” She hurried across the street, wiping her large hands on her waitressing apron. She grabbed Sam up and gave her a big bear hug. “I didn’t realize you was comin’ in for the holidays. Last I heard, you was goin’ to some fancy college back East to become a doctor.”

  Since Sam’s face was squashed against Rachel Dean’s holiday corsage, she had to wait to be released before she could answer. “I graduated just last week.”

  Rachel beamed. “Why, ain’t that somethin’? Little Sam Henderson a doctor. Maybe later I can get you to take a look at my bunions. The medicine Doc Mathers prescribed don’t work a lick.”

  “I’d love to help you, Rachel,” Sam said. “But I’m not that kind of a doctor.” She looked over at Ethan and tipped her cute little nose in the air. “I’m a doctor of veterinary medicine.”

  Ethan felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach by Buckwheat. Ever since he was old enough to help his father with the livestock, Ethan had wanted to become a veterinarian. But besides not having enough money, his parents had needed his help on the farm. So he’d put his dream on the shelf. In fact, the only person who knew about his secret desire was the same woman rubbing his nose in it. It was enough to make a grown man want to toss down his hat and cuss a blue streak. But farm folk weren’t ones to show their emotions. So instead, he plopped his hat back on his head and nodded to both ladies.

  “I best be gettin’ Buckwheat over to Lowell’s barn.”

  “We sure appreciate you takin’ care of all the animals for the live nativity over at The First Baptist, Ethan,” Rachel Dean said. “Nobody handles animals better than you do. Why, it’s almost like you speak their language. Sorta like that Doctor Doolittle feller—without the singin’, of course.”

  Ethan had to fight down the strong urge to snort a “hah” at Sam. Still, Rachel Dean’s praise didn’t change the jealousy that ate at his insides. A gift was one thing, a diploma something else entirely. While most of his knowledge came from what he could scrounge up on the Internet or in library books, Sam had been taught by the top experts in the field.

  “Why don’t you come on over to the diner, Sam?” Rachel Dean said. “If anything will put meat back on those skinny bones of yours, it’s Josephine’s chicken fried steak. And while you eat, I’ll fill you in on all the juicy gossip. Things have sure been excitin’ while you’ve been gone.”

  Sam hesitated, as if there was something else she wanted to say to Ethan. But as far as he was concerned, they’d said everything they needed to. The little Sam Henderson he once knew was long gone. And he had no use for an uppity vet who didn’t understand the first thing about a man’s pride.

  “Goodbye, Ethan,” Sam said in a voice that didn’t sound all that uppity. A gust of cool December wind blew her hair over her face. She pushed it back and sent Ethan one last look before Rachel tugged her across the street toward the bright pink caboose that served as Josephine’s Diner.

  Ethan stood on the sidewalk and watched as they walked away, his gaze trailing down the length of ebony hair to the curvy behind covered in the painted-on jeans. He was still as mad as a dog on bath day, but that didn’t seem to stop two words from popping into his head.

  Nice ass.

  Chapter Two

  “… so Faith Aldridge ended up being Hope Scroggs’s long-lost twin sister.” Rachel kept right on talking as she filled Sam’s cup with steaming, black coffee. “And I’ll tell you what. Those two look so much alike that the entire town was fooled. All except for Slate. He knew after just one kiss that Faith wasn’t Hope. ’Course, he figured out some other things as well—like he couldn’t live without our little Faith.”

  The news surprised Sam. Slate Calhoun had been the hometown football hero while Hope Scroggs had been the homecoming queen. It just made sense that they would end up getting married. Of course, love had never made sense.

  Sam glanced out the front windows, but Ethan had long since returned to his old truck and driven away.

  “I bet Hope was brokenhearted,” she said.

  “We all figured as much.” Mayor Harley Sutter swiveled around on the barstool next to Sam’s, his big belly brushing the counter, and his handlebar mustache wiggling as he talked. “But as it turned out, Hope has always been in love with Colt Lomax.”

  “Which surprised the heck out of me,” Sheriff Winslow said. “Colt spent more time in my jail than Elmer Tate.”

  “And maybe that’s why Hope fell in love with him. It’s hard to resist a bad boy.” Rachel winked at Sam. “Ain’t it, girl?”

  Sam smiled in agreement, even though she’d never had a thing for bad boys with bad attitudes. Just soft-spoken farm boys. And it seemed that time hadn’t diminished her feelings. The moment she looked into Ethan’s green eyes, she’d been lost all over again. And when he’d pulled her into his arms, for one brief second, she’d thought he’d felt it too. But it turned out his greeting had been no different than Rachel Dean’s.

  “So how long do you get to stay, Sam?”

  Sam glanced down the counter to the cowboy with the contagious grin. “Only until the day after Christmas, Kenny Gene. If I’m going to pay back all my student loans, I need to find a job and quick.”

  “Well, I don’t know why you couldn’t just set up shop right here in Bramble,” the mayor said. “Folks in Bramble have to go all the way to Odessa to find a vet. ’Course, most folks don’t mess with that and just take their animals to Ethan. That boy has a real gift.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Sam said dryly. Of course she knew Ethan had a gift and had known it long before anyone else. It was Ethan who opened up the world of animals to her. Ethan who showed her the comfort found in the soft cuddle of fur or the warm nuzzle of a cold nose. And maybe that was her problem. She’d gotten her love of animals confused with her feelings for the young man who had offered a haven from her dysfunctional family.

  As if reading her thoughts, Mayor Sutter asked, “So how’s your mama doin’? She still livin’ in Austin?”

  Sam didn’t have a clue. The last time Sam had spoken to her mama had been on her fourteenth birthday—the day her mother had left town. She wanted to blame her mother for the rift in their relationship, but Sam was the one who hadn’t returned her letters or phone calls. Still, the town didn’t need to know that.

  “So tell me more about this live nativity scene,” she said in an attempt to change the subject.

  Fortunately, Mayor Sutter latched on to the new topic like a bass to live bait. “It was Pastor Robbins’s idea. I guess the church he worked at before us used to have one every Christmas Eve—supposedly it gets everyone’s thoughts back on the reason for the season.”

  “Animal poop?” Kenny Gene piped up. “Because I gotta tell you, puttin’ all those animals in that little stable the pastor had me build is just askin’ for trouble.”

  “Which is why we put you on poop patrol,” Rachel Dean said.

  Kenny Gene’s eyes narrowed. “But I thought I got to be the Angel of the Lord.”

  “You do, son.” Mayor Sutter patted him on the back. “But when you ain’t spreadin’ tidin’s of great joy to all people, you’ll be spreadin’ manure in the church flowerbeds.”

  Kenny’s eyes lit up. “Well, I guess that ain’t so bad.”

  “I just wish our hunt for baby Jesuses was goin’ so well,” Rachel said as she poured the mayor more coffee.

  “Jesuses?” Sam said. “You need more than one?”

  Rachel’s smile got even bigger. “Since we couldn’t decide on who should get to be Mary and Joseph—Faith and Slate or Hope and Colt—we decided to have two shifts. ’Course, now we need two Jesuses. And we’ve had tryouts for the last week and a half, and not a Jesus have we found. Dusty Ray don’t fit in the manger. Rufus Miles throws fits like he’s possessed. And Titus Smith is allergic to hay.” She released her breath in a long sigh. “Which m