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    A Husband for Christmas: Halsey Homecoming, #4
    A Husband for Christmas: Halsey Homecoming, #4
    A Husband for Christmas: Halsey Homecoming, #4
    Ebook110 pages54 minutes

    A Husband for Christmas: Halsey Homecoming, #4

    By Paty Jager

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    About this ebook

    Final Novella in the Halsey Homecoming and Halsey Brothers Series

     

    Shayla Halsey wanted to be home for Christmas, but never imagined her travels would include spending the night in a brooding stranger's cabin. Snowballing events cause her to look inside herself and recognize maybe it wasn't being home she wanted as much as it was to have a home.    

     

    Mace Walker has his life in order and doesn't want it disrupted again. Yet, when he discovers a woman stranded in the snow, he has to help her—despite her overbearing and reckless fiancé. In a matter of days, Shayla turns his life upside down and forces him to decide if he should leave town or face the consequences.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWindtree Press
    Release dateOct 15, 2015
    ISBN9781943601448
    A Husband for Christmas: Halsey Homecoming, #4
    Author

    Paty Jager

    Paty Jager is an award-winning author of 51 novels, 8 novellas, and numerous anthologies of murder mystery and western romance. All her work has Western or Native American elements in them along with hints of humor and engaging characters. Paty and her husband raise alfalfa hay in rural eastern Oregon. Riding horses and battling rattlesnakes, she not only writes the western lifestyle, she lives it.

    Read more from Paty Jager

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      Book preview

      A Husband for Christmas - Paty Jager

      A Husband for Christmas

      Novella

      Halsey Brother Series

      Paty Jager

      Windtree Press

      Hillsboro, Oregon

      Copyright

      THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

      A HUSBAND FOR CHRISTMAS

      Copyright © 2015 Patricia Jager

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Windtree Press except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

      Contact Information: mailto:info@windtreepress.com

      Windtree Press

      Hillsboro, Oregon

      Visit us at https://windtreepress.com

      Cover Art by Christina Keerins

      Published in the United States of America

      Ebook ISBN 978-1-943601-45-5

      Chapter One

      1904 SUMPTER, OREGON

      Randal, slow down. We’re going to wreck. Shayla Halsey clung to the rail on the side of the seat to keep from bouncing out of the1904 Eldredge Runabout. It had been Randal Quincey’s idea to purchase the automobile in New York and bring it by train, so they could arrive in Sumpter, Oregon in style. Shayla was anxious to see Ma and Pa, and all the Halseys, but Randal was taking the road much too fast. During the trip from England to Sumpter, she’d begun to see Randal for what he was—a boy in a young man’s body.

      Randal! Shayla shrieked as the auto slid sideways.

      The runabout hit a bank of snow along the road. She flew out of the seat, landing in the snow face down. Her right arm twisted underneath her body. Pain surged up her arm. She would have passed out if not for the cold snow pressing against her face.

      Shayla pushed with her left arm and managed to roll over. She listened. Hissing sounds came from her left. Randal?

      No response.

      Her heart started racing.

      No one knew they were coming for Christmas. They’d freeze to death before anyone came along and found them. A tear trickled down Shayla’s cheek. The heat was welcome for a moment before it froze to her chin.

      Colin, Livie, Derek, and baby Bonnie had been at Ma and Pa’s house since November. Shayla had preferred to stay in England and remained behind to spend Christmas with Randal. But when Randal told his father they were getting engaged, he’d insisted Randal couldn’t without first asking Shayla’s father. Randal wanted the engagement to happen on Christmas and suggested they make the trip across the ocean.

      The chill of the snow soaked through her driving coat. Randal was always reckless. This recklessness had drawn Shayla to him. They’d met when she was fifteen and feeling suffocated under her big brother, Colin’s, overbearing ways. He didn’t let her have any fun. Even Colin’s wife, Livie, had tried to talk some reason into him.

      Randal? she called again and pushed to a sitting position. Her vision blurred, and her stomach churned, but she fought against fainting and scanned the road.

      The runabout had the front wheels embedded in the snow bank. She scanned the snow for Randal and caught a glimpse of his brown overcoat. Randal?

      The sound of horse’s hooves clomped along the frozen road.

      Help! Help! she called.

      The cadence of the hooves picked up. A sorrel horse with a rider loped into view.

      The rider wore a sheepskin jacket, a wool scarf wrapped around his neck and bottom of his face, and a dark Stetson. The horse slid to a stop beside the runabout.

      Over here! she called, waving her good arm.

      The man dismounted, dropped the reins, and climbed over the bank of snow as if he’d merely set his foot up one step on a set of stairs.

      He dropped to his knees beside her. Are you hurt?

      She peered into green eyes the color of a patch of clover. My arm. But Randal isn’t moving. Shayla raised her good arm and pointed to where Randal remained unmoving.

      Let’s get you out of the snow. The man put his gloved hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet as if she didn’t weigh eight-and-a-half stones.

      Thank you. She tried to walk, but her boots sank into the two feet of snow.

      The man slipped an arm under her knees and carried her to the road. He placed her in the car. Sit here.

      The man was as large as the Halsey brothers. When she was small, she’d thought of Ethan Halsey as a gentle giant and all his brothers as giants, too. As a grown woman, she saw them as the virile men they were and understood the deep devotion they received from their wives.

      Her gaze took in the stranger’s build, height, and easy way he moved through the snow. He was a man of the outdoors.

      Randal believed he was an outdoors man. She wrinkled her nose. The only thing he did outdoors, beside drive autos fast was ride a horse chasing poor foxes.

      The stranger knelt by Randal and shook his shoulder. There wasn’t any response. He rolled Randal over. The man gave one quick shake of his head as if he wasn’t happy. He scooped Randal up into his arms and carried him to the runabout.

      Can you drive this? the man asked.

      I think I can. Shayla scooted to the driver’s side of the auto and gripped the steering wheel with her left hand.

      The stranger placed Randal on the other side of the seat, but Randal’s upper body flopped over the edge.

      I don’t think that will work, Shayla said.

      She received a frown for stating the obvious.

      I can teach you how to drive. I’ll hold Randal, so he doesn’t slide out.

      Scoot over. The man picked Randal back up as if he were a child.

      She scooted across the seat with her injured arm tucked into her coat pocket to keep if from dangling and hurting so bad.

      Randal was placed in the middle of the seat. Shayla put her good arm around Randal’s shoulders.

      The man walked over to his horse and tied the gelding to the back of the auto.

      The runabout swayed like a wagon as the man put a foot in and lowered his body onto the seat. Three bodies on the cushioned seat made for tight quarters. Especially when the man’s shoulders were as broad as half the seat width.

      Do you know how to drive this? she asked.

      He grunted and stared at the steering wheel, levers, and pedals.

      The starting lever is on your side under the seat. You’ll have to get off and crank it. Shayla watched as the man dangled his arm over the side of the seat.

      He nodded and climbed out of the auto. Randal always had to

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