The Rancher's Mistletoe Bride Read online

  Such a small thing, him caring about her safety, but it made her feel warm and toasty. And for the first time in hours, she didn’t feel like crying in the slightest.

  She’d been right to hire Clint. Nothing escaped his notice on the ranch, not even a sweet old dog.

  Careful, Lexi. Start to romanticize him, and you’ll end up like last time. In a dull relationship without the things you really want. The ring. The emotional connection. The once-in-a-lifetime love.

  Whether she liked it or not, she was the boss, and she’d better not forget it.

  Chapter Three

  “Storm’s coming tonight. I’m heading into town.” Clint shifted from one cowboy boot to the other Monday afternoon. “Do you need any supplies?”

  “I’ll come with you.” The words were out of Lexi’s mouth before she’d thought them through. She stood in the open doorway as a gust of wind swooshed inside.

  She hadn’t left the house in three days, and she was losing her mind. Natalie Allen, her vice president and top wedding planner, had taken more responsibilities off Lexi’s shoulders, but details continued to slip through the cracks. Lexi was still reeling from the nasty phone call she’d received this morning from a very unhappy client. She couldn’t help thinking if she’d been there, the situation could have been prevented.

  In his Carhartt jacket, jeans and cowboy hat, Clint looked ready to bolt. “If you give me a list—”

  “I want to tag along.” She was already pulling on her faux fur–lined boots.

  “I have errands to run first.”

  “Even better.” She shrugged into her coat. “Just drop me off downtown and text me when you’re ready to go to the store.”

  His expression darkened, but he nodded. “I’ll be in the truck.”

  He didn’t have time to walk away, because she’d grabbed her purse and followed him outside. With Clint managing the ranch, maybe it was time for her to return to Denver. For good.

  She bit the corner of her bottom lip, less than thrilled at the thought.

  He opened the passenger door of his black truck for her, and she buckled herself in, thankful the cab was warm.

  “So...what’s on your agenda?” She watched him adjust the mirrors then back the truck up.

  “Dottie will be mad if I don’t stop in and say howdy, so I’m headed to her diner first. Then I’m meeting Art McFall about his hay supply. I have to stop in at the bank, and I’m due for a trim.”

  “Dottie. Hay. Bank. Barber. Got it. How long do you think it will take?”

  “Two hours.”

  Two whole hours.

  She watched the bare countryside pass by. It was part of her, the same way selecting complementary colors for a bouquet was part of her. After living in the city for years, she’d never thought she’d miss the raw emptiness of the land, but she did. Was that why the thought of returning to Denver wasn’t lighting up her insides?

  “I’ve looked over the ranch’s books some more,” Clint said. “We’ll be selling the calves soon, even though the prices are low.”

  “Okay.” She faced him, remembering the twinge of doubt she’d had at their meeting last week.

  “The new barn is empty, and it cost a lot to build.”

  “I know.”

  “To fill the barn with square bales next summer, you need farm equipment.”

  She knew where he was going with this. Equipment cost money.

  He concentrated on the road ahead. “If you want the equipment, you need to get a high price for your calves.”

  A dull ache formed behind her eyes. “You think we should wait a few months to sell, don’t you?”

  “Not if we can’t feed them.”

  “Can we feed them?” She watched him carefully, trying to read his reaction.

  “I think we can.”

  She weighed her options. If they couldn’t feed the cattle, they’d lose even more money than if they sold them soon at a low price.

  “Let me think about it more.” She waited for him to argue, but his only reaction was a curt nod. Was he mad she hadn’t instantly agreed with him?

  Maybe these unresolved ranch issues were the reason she wasn’t speeding back to her real life. It wouldn’t be fair to Clint if she deserted him now. She’d told him she planned to stay until Christmas.

  “I can’t take chances with the ranch,” she said. “Every decision I make is important.”

  “I understand.”

  He remained silent as the miles passed. She wished she could tell him to go ahead and do whatever he wanted with the calves, but she had to think about the big picture. Logan and Sarah and their little ones depended on her. As did the other ranch hands. Not to mention the cattle—she wouldn’t risk harming them. Preserving the ranch itself loomed heaviest. Would Daddy have approved of Clint’s plan?

  The lingering silence set her on edge.

  “Has Banjo been okay?” she asked.

  “He’s fine.”

  Not exactly forthcoming with information, that Clint Romine. What was a safe topic for small talk?

  “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” she asked. “Hard to believe it’s only a few days away.”

  His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “I’ll feed the cattle in the morning and later ride out to check on them.”

  “What about your family?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “What do you mean?” It hadn’t occurred to her he’d be spending his Thanksgiving alone, too.

  He glanced her way and shrugged. “Dad died in a blizzard back when I was four. Multicar pileup. He drove trucks for a living. Never knew my mom. My grandfather took care of me until I turned six, then he died. I lived in foster homes from then on.”

  The full impact of his words didn’t hit her for a few seconds. When it did, she didn’t know what to say. Was he completely alone in life? “Who do you usually spend Thanksgiving with? And Christmas?”

  “Thanksgiving isn’t a big deal to me. Dottie always invites me to her place, but it’s a little too crowded for my liking. As for Christmas, my best friends and I usually get together when we can, but we’re all bachelors, all live a cowboy life to some degree...”

  “So you spend the holidays alone.”

  “Yes.”

  She tapped her legs. He didn’t sound bothered at the thought of being alone for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Unlike her.

  “Here we are.” Clint stopped in a parking spot in front of Dottie’s Diner. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”

  “Tell Dottie hello from me.” She climbed out of the truck, shoved her hands in her coat pockets and headed toward the jewelry store. Clint’s childhood must have been pretty bad for him to spend holidays alone. She’d been blessed to always have Daddy to come home to. Who knew how she’d spend the holidays from now on?

  Sweet Dreams was all decked out for Christmas. Rows of buildings—some brick, some with awnings—lined both sides of Main Street, and all were trimmed in green-and-red decorations. White lights wrapped around light posts and store windows. Evergreen boughs and red ribbons abounded. Very Victorian Western. She imagined women in long dresses and bonnets singing carols back in the day. Throw in a cowboy or two, and the picture would be complete.

  Lexi ducked into Sweet Dreams Jewelers and instantly felt at home. There was something about jewelry, soft lighting and gleaming glass displays that soothed her. She zoomed to the diamonds showcased on blue velvet. Lingering over the engagement rings, she sighed in delight. The one in the top right corner caught her eye. She’d pick it as her ideal ring. Oh, how she loved weddings.

  The recent Anderson nuptials had been particularly moving. The bride and groom had stared into each other’s eyes so deeply as they said their vows that Lexi had shed a few hones
t tears at their devotion. Those moments made her job worth the petty calls, ornery brides, making payroll and endless meetings. Yes, the I dos made it all worth it.

  After browsing the store, she made her way to Amy’s Quilt Shop. Lexi herself had never quilted, but the fabrics might give her ideas for any rustic weddings coming up. The bell clanged above her, and she stopped to take it all in. The aroma of spiced cider and the sounds of soft contemporary Christian Christmas music filled the room, pretty rag rugs in navy blues and brick reds covered the wood floors, and the displays—magnificent! She plunged forward, marveling at the combination of fabrics. The quilts hanging from the walls were works of art.

  “Can I help you?”

  Lexi turned and squealed. “Amy Deerson? You’re Amy’s Quilt Shop?”

  “Lexi!” Amy embraced her, and they couldn’t stop grinning at each other. “I can’t believe it. I haven’t seen you in years. I’m so sorry about your dad, and I feel terrible I missed the funeral. Stomach flu. If I’d known you were still in town, I would have come over.”

  “Thank you, Amy. That means a lot to me.” Lexi couldn’t get over how beautiful Amy had become. Luxurious dark hair tumbled down her back. Full red lips, a fit but curvy figure, and her smile, so inviting and kind. The way she’d always been. Amy had been a good friend during high school, but after Lexi left for college, they’d fallen out of touch.

  “Are you busy right now?” Amy asked.

  “No, why?”

  “Let’s catch up over a cup of coffee.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “I sure can. It’s my store.” Amy laughed. “Give me a minute and we can go to The Beanery.”

  A short walk later, they sat across from each other at a café table in the adorable coffee shop. Exposed brick walls contrasted with distressed plank floors. The way the door opened every few minutes told Lexi it was a popular place indeed. And the smell was pure coffee, pure bliss.

  “Fill me in on everything.” Amy sipped her pumpkin spice latte and leaned forward.

  Lexi obliged. She told her about earning her degree in public relations and getting her first gig as a wedding planner. She’d quickly made a name for herself, quit her job and started planning weddings full-time. Then a swanky Denver magazine featured her in their wedding issue, and the business exploded. “Your turn.”

  “There’s not much to tell. I opened shop six years ago. Let’s just say I was on the verge of getting engaged twice and both times got jilted. I’m finally coming to terms with the fact I might never marry or have children. I’ve been spending time working on my relationship with the Lord.”

  Lexi’s heart twisted at Amy’s tale. Her vibrant friend had always been nurturing. If anyone should be married with kids, Amy should. “I need to do some of that myself.”

  “Which part?” Amy teased.

  “The last part. Losing Daddy...it’s been hard.” She sipped her coffee.

  “I can’t imagine,” Amy said. “How long did you know about the cancer?”

  “I didn’t. None of us did.” She blotted a napkin over the drop she’d spilled. Something about the question bothered her. Had anyone else known?

  Had Daddy known?

  No. If he’d known, he would have told her. He’d been as in the dark as everyone else.

  “Maybe that’s a blessing. He didn’t suffer.”

  Lexi didn’t see how it was a blessing, but she wouldn’t argue. If they’d had more time, they could have fought it.

  Amy smiled warmly. “Looks like you’re making big changes in your life. I’ll pray for you.”

  “I need all the prayers I can get. I think God’s mad at me.” She half laughed.

  Amy covered her hand and squeezed. “He’s not mad at you, Lexi. You can go to Him with anything, big or small.”

  “Thanks, Amy,” she whispered. Her phone dinged. Clint. “Well, it’s been wonderful to catch up with you, but my ride is almost here. Let’s get together soon.”

  “Here’s my number. Let me know if you need anything.”

  They hugged, and Lexi left, wrapping her coat tightly around her waist against the cold air. Amy’s words about going to God with anything filled her thoughts.

  In the past, she’d trusted God with her plans. But she’d gotten busy with her company, and after her father died...

  Was she being punished? She’d put her business first and lost him a month after planning her most prestigious wedding. She’d been named homecoming queen two weeks before her mother died. Whenever something wonderful happened to her, she paid a price too heavy to bear.

  Could she take anything to God in prayer?

  Lord, I want to believe You listen to my prayers. Am I foolish to stay here until Christmas? Should I go back to Denver? And what should we do about the calves?

  She shook her head. Why would God care if she stayed or left or sold the calves now or later?

  Do You really care? About things big and small?

  Clint’s truck drove into the spot directly in front of her. That man did everything he said he would do. He was reliable. A hard worker. And in her heart she knew he was right about them needing a higher price for the calves. Owning a business meant taking calculated risks.

  She buckled into the passenger seat. “I think we should try it your way and wait to sell the calves.”

  He blinked. Then he nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Okay.”

  One decision out of the way. Her business would not collapse if she stayed here until Christmas. One more month. Then she’d figure out the rest.

  * * *

  Clint hauled plastic bags full of groceries into Lexi’s kitchen later that afternoon. Walking into this house was like getting a hearty slap to the face each and every time he came in. The dripping of the faucet pounded into his temples. The wind had picked up, flapping the broken screen. And how had he not noticed the bulb missing in the can light above him?

  Here he was living in the lap of luxury in his cozy home down the lane, and Lexi was stuck in this run-down tomb of a house.

  The minute he’d moved into his cabin, he’d scrubbed it and checked the windows, furnace and plumbing. He’d tightened the place up good for winter, and every room sparkled like sunlight off the river.

  If anyone but Lexi lived here, he probably would assume they’d fix it up themselves, but this was a woman who had lost both parents, held a demanding job and didn’t have a boyfriend or husband to rely on.

  Which left him responsible.

  Repairs would put him in Lexi’s direct vicinity far longer than he could handle. Even if he could admit—at least to himself—he didn’t mind making chitchat with her. It wasn’t conducive to keeping their relationship professional, though. And now that she’d actually trusted his decision about the calves, his palms wouldn’t stop sweating.

  What if he was wrong? What if they ran out of feed and had to sell them for a loss?

  He closed his eyes and shook away the doubts. It was too late for regrets now. He’d show Lexi her faith in him wasn’t misplaced. And he’d start today.

  “Lexi?”

  “Hmm?” She pushed a jar to the side and shoved a box of cereal onto the shelf.

  “I’ve noticed there are some items around here that need fixing. I’m busy tonight—have to check the generators and equipment before the snow comes in—but tomorrow night, I’ll come by and get a few of the more pressing problems repaired.”

  Lexi wiped her palms down her jeans. “What problems?”

  Was she joking?

  From the expression on her face, he’d say she wasn’t. “I hear a faucet dripping somewhere. It might be an easy fix, or it might need a new gasket or have to be replaced altogether. The screen in the window—” he pointed to the living room “—is ripped and banging around
in the wind. Your fireplace needs to be inspected.” He turned in a slow circle, seeing cobwebs, a loose cabinet knob, an electrical outlet missing its cover.

  With her hands on her hips, she scrunched her nose and studied the rooms. “It’s needed a cleaning for a long time. I didn’t realize there were so many other issues, though.”

  Understandable with her father dying and her business keeping her so busy.

  “After my mother died when I was seventeen, I think Daddy gave up on the house. He lived here, but he poured all his time and energy into the ranch itself. Maybe he was afraid of moving on, or he could have thought changing the house would make him forget her.” She bowed her head. “I haven’t been blind to it being so dirty. I just haven’t had the energy... You must think I’m a slob.”

  “No, I figured you’ve been busy.”

  She smiled up at him, and he held his breath. She had a knight-in-shining-armor glint in her eyes. “I would appreciate it very much if you’d stop by tomorrow night. I’ll do my best to help.”

  He was no knight.

  “I can manage fine.”

  She tilted her head, still smiling. “I know you can. But it’s my house. And I’d feel like the worst sort of person if I let you do it all without lifting a finger.”

  An image of Lexi holding a wrench and him accidentally touching her hand made him squirm. She was too pretty to be near for long periods.

  “I said I can manage.”

  “And I said I’ll help.”

  He clamped his mouth shut. He couldn’t argue with her without sounding like a grizzly bear. He hoped the faucet was an easy fix. The screen and fireplace, too. Because if she started helping, she’d start talking, and when she talked, he had a hard time remembering why he needed to keep his distance.

  And he needed to keep his distance. For both their sakes.

  * * *

  Lexi paused in front of the master bedroom door the next evening. She’d made too big of a deal out of Daddy’s room. She knew what she’d find—the double bed with a faded blue-and-yellow quilt, dusty dressers with her father’s personal items on a tray. Why had she been avoiding it for so long?