A Family For The Holidays

Her Guardian Groom

Paid to accompany two orphaned siblings to their grandfather in Nebraska, Lily Winter is dismayed to discover the old man has gone missing. And when the children’s inheritance makes them a target, buying protection is Lily’s only option. Until a handsome gun-for-hire suggests another solution: marriage.

Undercover US Marshal Jake Elder can’t reveal his true identity without blowing his mission. Nor can he leave the town’s pretty new arrival unguarded. But while uncovering a plot against her charges is difficult and risky, falling for Lily is all too easy. Especially once their marriage in name only gives Jake a glimpse of how wonderful Christmas—and their future as a family—could be.

“Don’t trust anyone, Miss Winter.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me.”

Jake glanced away from the curiosity in her shrewd gaze. While he admired the wholesome honesty in her striking blue eyes, this was no place for a tenderfoot.

“Why warn me away if I can’t trust you? Isn’t that a bit contradictory?”

“If you stay in this town, you’re in danger. You were hired to keep those children safe. If something were to happen to them, could you live with yourself?”

She blinked rapidly. “No.”

“Then, trust your gut, Lily Winter.”

“Trust my gut, but not you.”

He let out a gusty sigh. She had the kind of pure innocence about her that made a man think about a different way of life. The unexpected thought shook him to the core, and he forced the weakness aside. Strong feelings were a distraction. He was a man who gave 100 percent to the job, and there wasn’t anything left over for anyone else. That sort of man was no good for raising a family.

“I’m not the man for you, Miss Lily. Never forget that.”

SHERRI SHACKELFORD is an award-winning author of inspirational books featuring ordinary people discovering extraordinary love. A reformed pessimist, Sherri has a passion for storytelling. Her books are fast-paced and heartfelt with a generous dose of humor. She loves to hear from readers at [email protected]. Visit her website at sherrishackelford.com.

A Family for the Holidays

Sherri Shackelford

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And ye shall know the truth,

and the truth shall make you free.

—John 8:32

To Barb. I miss you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Frozen Oaks, Nebraska, 1885

Lily Winter’s gaze flicked over the gunfighter and rapidly skittered away. Her brief glimpse of his unyielding profile sent a chill snaking down her spine.

The afternoon stagecoach had long since banked the horizon, dissolving into a bleak winter haze. Fat snowflakes drifted from the sky and swirled around her feet. Chafing her hands together, she blew a puff of warm air over her aching fingers. Her two young charges, Sam and Peter, huddled against her on the wooden bench outside the livery. The rest of the stagecoach passengers had either remained on the stage after the speedy change of horses or hastily escaped the biting wind. Only the three of them remained unclaimed.

The sharp air brought tears to her eyes, blurring her vision, and she blinked rapidly. Obviously there’d been a misunderstanding about their arrival. No need for panic.

Her vantage point allowed an unimpeded view of Main Street, and hearty shoppers darted in and out of storefronts. Their progress offered tantalizing glimpses of light and the promise of warmth. The shelter of the hotel restaurant and a cozy drink beckoned—save for one slight impediment.

The gunfighter had taken up residence on the boardwalk before the restaurant.

As though deliberately taunting her, he’d kicked back in a sturdy wooden chair, his legs outstretched, one heel propped on the upper railing, his ankles loosely crossed. His hat sat low on his forehead, shading his eyes.

Peter tilted his head and caught a snowflake on his eyelashes. “Can we have a snowball fight later?”

“We’ll see,” Lily replied, her attention distracted. “Maybe later.”

“Hmph.” Peter crossed his arms. “Maybe always means no.”

“Maybe means maybe.”

She pressed one hand against her roiling stomach. The noisy inn where they’d stayed the previous evening had not been conducive to sleep, and the constant pitch of the stagecoach had sent her breakfast churning. Since she was a child, moving conveyances had made her nauseous.

“Are you warm enough?” she asked Peter, adjusting his wool cap over his ears.

“My nose is chilly.”

Offering what little shelter she could against the cold, she wrapped her arm around the boy and hugged him closer.

Sam’s shoulders slumped. “Has something bad happened to our grandpa?”

“He’s late,” Lily said. “There’s nothing unusual about being late.”