Santa in a Kilt

by Donna Kauffman

Genres: Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance; Holiday Romance

Synopsis

On the wild dunes of a Scottish Isle, mistletoe and mischief are the best way to heat up a holiday best shared by two . . .
 
The wind-whipped December sea air of the isle of Kinloch invigorates Kira MacLeod as she sets out to tame rugged Shay Callaghan. The Scottish bachelor may be as wary of a wedding ring as a snowman is of the hot sun, but it's no secret how he looks at her—as if she were the only woman in the world. Now, with the encouragement of the canny islanders, and watching two of their best friends tie the knot in a romantic winter wedding, Kira will ignite Shay's heart—and weave the perfect Celtic Christmas to say aye do . . .
 
Originally published in Unwrapped
 
Praise for Donna Kauffman
 
“Charming characters, emotion galore, a small town—you're going to love Donna Kauffman!” —Lori Foster
 
 “We all know where there's Donna Kauffman, there's a rollicking, sexy read chock-full of charm and sparkle.” —USAToday.com

Release date: October 29, 2019

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 104

Sample

“You’re breaking my heart, Buttercup.” Cheyenne McCafferty buried her nose in the gelding’s mane and smiled when she heard him snuffle, even as she tried to blink away the moisture that continued to gather at the corners of her eyes. “Yeah, well, you might think the name is an indignity.” She straightened and rubbed her palm gently over the horse’s cheek, looking him straight in his weary, lackluster eyes. “But we both know it’s perfect for you.”

His ears flicked forward and Chey had zero doubt that this horse knew exactly who she was, despite the decade since she’d last seen him. Her heart squeezed in a painful knot as she tried, and failed, not to remember, with crystal clarity, the circumstances of the last time she’d seen this horse.

“Well, I don’t know what son-of-a-bitch let you get in such deplorable condition,” she murmured, working to keep her voice smooth, calm, and the anger tamped down deep, “but thanks to Tory, you’re going to be fine now. And for all the rest of your days, too. I’m going to see to that.” She laughed and sniffled at the same time when Buttercup nodded and snorted. “Exactly. I’m only sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

Chey didn’t want to think about the reasons why she hadn’t known anything about Buttercup’s life once he and his first owner had left the rodeo circuit all those years ago. She’d eventually left it, too, gone her own way. She didn’t want to think about the reason for that, either.

“You two getting reacquainted, I see.”

Chey dashed at the dampness on her cheeks, unconcerned by the streaks of dirt her gloves left behind. She plopped her cowboy hat on her head, pulled the brim down, but kept her palm on Buttercup’s neck as she turned. She wanted the horse to know she wasn’t leaving. Not now, not ever again. She turned to face her old, dear friend, a sincere smile on her face. “We most definitely are. Thank you,” she said, those two words never more heartfelt. “For letting me know. I realize I should be better about keeping in touch—”

Tory just laughed outright at that, and Chey knew she deserved it.

“As I may have mentioned in my previous, oh, umpteen emails and letters, there are these marvelous inventions called cell phones for folks who hate to write,” Tory teased. “You don’t even have to actually talk to people, either. You can send these amazing things called text messages.”

“I’ve heard about people like you,” Chey pretended to grumble, then chuckled along with her friend.

“I have to say, I was really surprised to hear about your new venture. You mentioned you were working on a farm now but neglected to mention that you own part of it, and that it’s a lavender farm, not a horse farm.”

“Part horse farm,” Chey corrected. “My part anyway. I’m working with rescues, giving lessons, doing some training.” She shrugged. “Pretty much the same thing I’ve been doing since I left the circuit.”

Tory just folded her arms and tilted her head to the side, her expression telling Chey she wasn’t buying it. “Sounds like a big, new life venture to me,” she said when Chey just smiled and shook her head. “I’m happy for you, Chey. I know it hasn’t been easy.”

Chey nodded and was relieved when Tory didn’t go any further. It had been a number of years now since she’d left that life behind. A number of years since she’d lost her father, then her brother. And yes, Tory was right, the lavender farm wasn’t just another job. It was a whole new life. One she loved more than anything she’d ever done before, except ride. It was her present, and her future, and she couldn’t be more grateful for all of it.

Tory was the one person who really knew what Chey’s life had been before all that. Victoria Fallon was a former champion barrel racer, just as Chey was. She’d been Chey’s biggest competition on the circuit during their childhood and teen years. Where Chey was the assertive, in-your-face kind of competitor, Tory had been the darling of the circuit. Pretty, always cheerful, a friend to everyone...and a dogged competitor in the ring.

Chey had both envied Tory and respected her, the latter winning out early on. Despite their many head-to-head battles in the ring, they’d become fast friends outside of it. Tory had seen to that.

Chey’s brother, Cody, had been a star rodeo rider, and her father had been a well-known rodeo clown. Tory’s grandparents owned a huge spread in Wyoming and were well known and respected horse breeders. Tory had lost both her parents when she was so young she didn’t remember them, and, as an only child, traveled with an aunt—her late mom’s sister—who competed as well. Chey knew from Tory’s letters over the years that they were all three gone now, and the ranch along with it. Tory’s life was much like Chey’s had been, prior to becoming part of her new enterprise, Lavender Blue. A bit of a vagabond life still, always working with horses, wherever that took them.

Chey accepted a little stab of guilt for letting the ball drop with her oldest and dearest friend. And tried like hell to ignore the even bigger stab of guilt as she leaned in close to Buttercup. Tory wasn’t the only one Chey hadn’t kept in regular touch with over the years.

“I bet living in the Blue Ridge mountains is something else,” Tory said wistfully. “Only been out there once, to a show in Asheville, North Carolina. Gorgeous.”

Chey laughed and swept her arm wide. “Seriously? You live in Sedona. Possibly one of the most breathtaking places I’ve ever seen. I would never tire of this view.” The red rock mesas and jutting buttes, their striated lines showing the layers of the earth that had formed them, stretched out as far as the eye could see. All outlined by a cloudless sky of such rich blue, the stunning contrast simply filled the heart right up.

“It certainly puts things in perspective,” Tory agreed, taking in a deep breath, then shook her head. “But an eye candy view isn’t everything.”

“It’s certainly a good place to start.”


Tory shared Chey’s smile, nodding, but Chey hadn’t missed that brief moment, that flicker in her friend’s beautiful brown eyes. Years had passed since they’d seen one another, but some things were timeless. And reading Tory’s every emotion as it played across her pretty face was one of them.

“What’s going on, Tory?” Chey asked, kindly, but directly. “Trouble in this desert paradise? I know you said you weren’t able to keep Buttercup here, which was why you contacted me.” She gestured to the expansive and beautifully maintained stables they were standing in. “I’m forever grateful you did, but it doesn’t look like there’s an issue with room. Are they working you too hard? Want too much board for him? I know you’ve had nothing but kind things to say about your employers, but—” She broke off, thinking maybe it wasn’t her place to push. Not that that had ever stopped her before.

Tory looked as if she was going to shrug off the question, but at the last second, she caught Chey’s eye, and their gazes held. Tory finally lifted a shoulder and let it drop in a helpless sort of half shrug. “The Parmenters—the owners, my bosses—are going to sell this place and move away to help out with their grandchildren. They’re selling the house, the stables, the land. All of it.” Her expression turned a bit bleak. “To developers.”

Chey’s expression fell. “Oh no. Aw, Tory, I’m so sorry. I know how much you’ve loved working for them.” She might not have been good at keeping in touch, but Tory had. The occasional email, a hand-written letter at Christmas, Tory had kept their connection. Chey knew what was going on in her friend’s life, even if she’d given little more than a cursory overview of her own. “You know they’ll give you the most glowing reference and you have to have contacts built up.” Chey smiled. “Your email and letter writing skills will stand you in good stead where that’s concerned.”

Tory let out a somewhat watery laugh, then wiped the back of her hand over her cheek. “They’ve already offered to do whatever they can. They are lovely, with huge hearts, and I don’t fault them for wanting to go be with family.” She looked up and down the wide aisle and the row of roomy stalls on both sides. “One winning lottery ticket and I’d buy this place in a blink.” She chuckled and let out a shaky sigh, all at the same time.

“You’d hate running this whole place.”

Tory wiggled her eyebrows. “If the win was big enough, I’d hire a majordomo for all that.”

“Ah. Solid business plan then,” Chey said with s short grin. “My bad.”

Tory nodded and brushed at her sleeves, as if duly accepting her friend’s mock apology. “Have a little faith.”

They both laughed then, but it didn’t diminish the sadness Chey saw in Tory’s eyes. Or the weariness. Chey remembered what it had felt like, to find Lavender Blue, to find a new home. A forever home. She’d been tired of traveling, tired of picking up and moving. It had been time. Maybe Tory was feeling the same way.

On instinct, Chey reached out and took hold of Tory’s upper arm, gave it a light squeeze and let it go. Chey wasn’t much of a toucher, so that might as well have been a bear hug coming from her, and Tory knew it. “You’re going to land on your feet. Why don’t you come east? Blue Hollow Falls will draw you right in.”

“Lots of ranching in the Blue Ridge mountains, is there?” she said dryly, though she’d clearly been touched by the gesture.

Chey laughed. “Okay, no. Not like out here, anyway. But there are plenty of horses and riders to go with. . .