Christmas on the Ranch--A Clean Romance

by Julianna Morris

  Deke thought fast. “In my official capacity. I wanted to find out if your former boyfriend is still bothering you.”

  Irritation flew across her face. “Raymond is my problem and I’ll take care of it. Besides, he’s harmless.”

  Deke had heard that before, but anyone could be dangerous given the right circumstances. “Okay, then what about Dr. Barstow? You’re going to sue him, right?”

  “Again, my business. I’ll deal with Dr. Barstow in my own way.”

  Deke’s frustration grew as Libby walked up the porch steps. She was about to go inside when she turned and caught him watching her.

  “Are you coming in for coffee or not?” she asked. “Mom usually starts a fresh pot when she hears someone arrive.”

  “Coffee,” he said, hiding his delight. He was trying to cut down on his caffeine consumption, but if Libby was offering an invitation, he was accepting.

  Period.

  * * *

  ALAINA COULDN’T KEEP from smiling as she watched the interplay between Libby and Deke from inside the barn. They were too far away to hear, but body language was universal. It was easy to see why Gideon had suspected the deputy sheriff was interested in Libby, but less easy to understand why it might be a concern.

  Surely he wouldn’t be friends with Deke if he didn’t think he was an honorable person.

  “Do you want to go into the paddock?” Alaina asked Nikko after she’d put his saddle and blanket back into the tack room.

  The horse tossed his head and she could swear he understood. She led him to the paddock and opened the gate. He trotted in and she carefully latched it back, not wanting to be accused of letting the horses escape.

  Griz had moved to the far side of the enclosure and she rested her arms on the fence to watch him. She understood grief. It could eat at your soul until you felt empty inside. Somehow, knowing horses could feel the same emotion made them seem less intimidating.

  Alaina waited until Grizzly was looking in her direction before putting a carrot on one of the posts, then she walked to her cabin. Her instincts said it would be best to go slowly with him, making no demands, just small overtures. As a kid she’d tamed more than one feral cat that way.

  The carrot was still there when she came outside with her laptop, but Griz had come a few steps closer. She’d noticed he often seemed to be standing in that same location by the fence, even though the grass was more lush on the far end. On the outside of the paddock fence was a weathered chair, identical to the Adirondack rocking chair that Alaina enjoyed sitting in the most. Maybe Colby Westcott had used it when visiting his horse pal and nobody could bear to take it away.

  She pulled her chair to the side of the porch where she could easily look across the valley, but also see the rest of the ranch, then took out her phone and dialed her sister-in-law’s private office number.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Janet answered.

  “Hey, Janet,” Alaina said. “I just wanted to find out when the revised paperwork might be coming.”

  “I sent the contract addendum by the fastest means possible, which might not be that fast.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Janet chuckled. “You’re living on a ranch, in a remote corner of the world. I had trouble finding a courier service that offered two-day delivery, much less overnight.”

  Alaina laughed, as well. “That’s one of the costs of living where there’s fresh air and wildflowers outside your window.”

  Her sister-in-law groaned. “Don’t make me envious. It’s warm and muggy here, more than usual for this time of year. I’d love to chuck my suits for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.”

  “I thought you were a confirmed city gal.”

  “You’re inspiring me to think about different choices. I’m proud of you, Alaina. It takes guts to do what you’re doing, but please don’t say that makes me sound like your mother.”

  “Not my mom. She sends a steady stream of emails, asking if I’ve finally come to my senses. More than one, every single day. I’m tempted to put her address in my spam filter, along with the rest of the family.”

  “That’s a parent for you. Will you be disappointed in me if I say that having guided tours is a great idea?”

  “Of course not,” Alaina said fondly. “Will you be disappointed if I suggest selling your law firm and getting licensed in Montana?”

  “It’s an intriguing thought. The snow must be cleaner there than in the city.”

  “Practically a guarantee.” Alaina thought about the Christmas lights she’d put up after it snowed on her first day in the cabin. They’d given the place a lovely cozy feel. “It wouldn’t cost as much to live here, either. You might even meet a big bad handsome cowboy and decide to get married again.”

  “Not happening. One divorce was enough. Let me know when the addendum arrives and you’ve sent it back. Oh, and Mr. Carmichael called in time for me to incorporate the changes he requested.”

  “Changes?” Alarmed, Alaina squirmed upright, not an easy task in an Adirondack rocking chair. “What changes?”

  “About giving permission for you to take pictures of ranch activities, etc. Essentially, you’ll have access to all of his operations, without penalty or restriction. He said he’d discussed it with you.”

  Alaina thought about her conversations with Gideon and his suggestion that she concentrate on photographing something other than wolves. Obviously he was still hoping she’d pursue subjects that required less hiking and camping alone.

  “Alaina?” Janet prompted. “The alterations are to your advantage, which is why I didn’t confirm with you after he called. Does this mean you didn’t talk about it?”

  “Let’s call it creative truth telling. We didn’t discuss it as changes to the agreement, but Gid...Mr. Carmichael is trying to persuade me to shift the focus of my work. He’s protective in his gruff, unsmiling way. I think he must be channeling my family.”

  A chuckle sounded through the phone. “He’s way off base if he thinks he can change your mind. But now I’m curious. Email a picture of your cowboy when you get a chance.”

  “He isn’t my anything, unless it’s a pain in the posterior.”

  “It’s just that...” Janet hesitated. “You know I’d be okay with you finding someone else, right? My parents should never have said what they did.”

  “They apologized.”

  “That doesn’t make up for it. And I don’t want what they said to influence any possibilities for the future. You deserve to be happy and that’s what Mason would have wanted. He never would forgive Mom and Dad for the way they acted.”

  Janet had been furious with her parents at Mason’s funeral when they’d bitterly declared that his death was nothing to Alaina, she would just go find someone new and the least she could have done was give them a grandchild.

  It had been out of character for the Wrights. Though they weren’t warm people, they were decent. A letter had arrived a month later with an awkward apology, but even at the time, Alaina had understood—they’d lost their son and grief made people lose all sense of perspective.

  “Don’t worry,” Alaina said. “I am happy. I miss what Mason and I had together, but you don’t find that kind of magic very often.”

  Yet despite her assertion, Alaina had spent an inordinate amount of time the past two days thinking about Gideon. Having his dog along had been a reminder of him, but that didn’t entirely explain why he kept popping into her thoughts on a regular basis.

  “Sometimes you never find magic,” Janet said, an edge in her tone. Her ex-husband, a renowned heart surgeon, had turned cheating into an art form. The irony was that he’d loved Janet. He simply didn’t seem capable of being faithful.

  Alaina turned her head and waved at Helene and Libby as they came out of the main house to leave for the farmers’ market in Bannister. Deke had already left.


  “I wish you could be with someone you deserve,” she murmured to Janet, whose marriage had ended shortly after hers had started with Mason. Alaina had spent hours commiserating with her new sister-in-law, cementing their friendship.

  “It’s the luck of the draw and I’m not looking. By the way, I sent two packets, one addressed to you and one to Mr. Carmichael. There’s a certified check in your envelope. I thought it would save time if you had it ready. Oh, gotta go. My next appointment is here.”

  Alaina thanked her for the help and leaned back in her chair, rocking gently. But it was hard to focus with so many other thoughts circling in her mind.

  Saddling Nikko had been easier than expected, and it was even easier to reverse the process because she hadn’t needed to worry about disturbing his hair in the opposite direction it was growing. The video she’d watched had made a point of that—ruffling a horse’s hair beneath the saddle could cause discomfort, so never ever do it.

  Surely all the steps became second nature once you’d saddled enough horses.

  She looked over to see if Griz had come closer to the carrot she’d left for him. He was just a few inches away and made a grab for the treat as she watched.

  Alaina’s heart ached to think about the horse, grieving his days away. Would it help or hurt if she went and spent time in that chair? After all, she could work on her laptop there, as well as on the porch. The 4K monitor wasn’t necessary to do the initial sort and note-taking on her photographs.

  She was about to go over when a horse came into view from the valley. It wasn’t noon yet and she knew the ranch hands riding the range were normally gone all day. She lifted her camera and looked through the telephoto lens.

  Gideon.

  He was shirtless, carrying a calf in his arms and leading Brushfire, who was limping. Danger was staying close to both of them, but he didn’t appear injured. Neither did Gideon, for that matter. She focused on Brushfire’s leg and saw it was wrapped with something.

  Gideon was the embodiment of a robust cowboy and Alaina couldn’t resist taking several pictures before hurrying out to meet them. Danger raced forward to greet her, then ran back to his post at Gideon’s side.

  Gideon frowned as she approached. “Why are you out here without a day pack?”

  “Because I’m not out here. I was sitting on the cabin porch and saw you coming. Let me carry the calf,” she said.

  He shook his head and adjusted the baby against his chest, who was voicing displeasure with the world in loud bawling cries. “This little girl might be a newborn, but she must weigh sixty pounds. You can lead Brushfire.”

  “All right.”

  With just a brief hesitation, she took the horse’s reins and stroked his nose.

  “What happened to his leg?” she asked as they walked.

  “Rock came down a scree slope and hit him. It’s my fault. I was trying to hurry because of the calf. I don’t think the leg is badly hurt, but I didn’t want him to carry any additional weight. I soaked bandages in cold water as a compress and wrapped my shirt around it to help keep the swelling down.”

  Alaina widened her eyes. How many miles had Gideon walked, carrying the calf and leading Brushfire to spare his horse’s injured leg? He didn’t even seem to be breathing that heavily.

  “Did the baby’s mother die?”

  * * *

  GIDEON SHOT A look at Alaina.

  Orphaned calves were a fact of life to ranchers, but most people turned into sentimental mush when confronted with the nitty-gritty of life on a cattle ranch.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “We don’t move cows to summer pasture that haven’t dropped their calves, so I have a mystery on my hands. As for her being alone, the mother may have rejected it or they were accidentally separated. Calves need colostrum as soon as possible for both nutrition and antibodies, so I didn’t hang around looking for longer than necessary.”

  He hadn’t seen any evidence that the mother had died, such as birds circling in the sky, but it was still possible. That was his reality. He hated to lose a cow as much as any rancher, but it wasn’t something he could always prevent.

  “I haven’t studied wild herd animals in depth, though I know orphaned bison survival rate isn’t good, even when being raised as livestock,” Alaina said.

  Gideon nodded. “Cows can be raised by hand, but it isn’t ideal since they aren’t getting natural antibodies from their mother’s milk. This late in the season is a problem, too. They need to gain around a hundred pounds a month to do their best over winter.”

  “A hundred pounds a month? That’s even more than a baby bison gains on average.”

  Alaina used her free hand to pat the calf’s head, but it continued complaining. I’m honnnngry, she bellowed. The world she’d entered had disappointed her mightily and she wanted everybody to know.

  Gideon needed to get nutrition into her quickly, but he also had to get another cold pack on Brushfire’s leg and decide if the veterinarian should be called.

  “Could you ask my sister or mom to come out here?” he asked as they approached the barn. They were both experienced with helping orphaned calves.

  “Libby and Helene already left for the farmers’ market, but I can do whatever is needed.”

  “All right.” He gave her instructions on where the frozen colostrum—the first form of milk produced by a mother cow—was stored in the calving barn and how to thaw it in a five-gallon bucket of warm water. “Use the small packages so it will melt quickly. Also keep a close eye on the thermometer. Water over a hundred and forty degrees degrades the natural antibodies,” he explained.

  “Got it. I’ll be back as soon as possible.” She fastened Brushfire’s lead to a post and took off at a run.

  Gideon put the calf on a mound of hay. Danger immediately began licking the baby, the way he had licked her when first located, simulating the bath she would have gotten from her mother. The calf quieted a little, though she still looked sorry for herself.

  Gideon unwrapped his shirt from Brushfire’s leg and removed the compress, then ran his fingers over the injury. The area was warm, marginally swollen and there was a small abrasion that was producing serum.

  Better safe than sorry, Gideon thought, getting out his phone to ring the veterinarian. Dr. Wardell was on the far side of the county on a case, but promised to be there as soon as possible. Gideon disconnected and put a fresh compress on before removing Brushfire’s saddle.

  Before long Alaina had returned with a nursing bottle.

  “You said the calf would need over a quart, so I have more bags thawing,” she said. “I thought she could drink this in the meantime. How is Brushfire?”

  “The injury doesn’t seem serious, but the vet is coming to check him.” Gideon took the bottle, crouched and eased a finger in the calf’s mouth. She began sucking and he slid the long nipple on the bottle alongside, then removed his finger. Some calves took several tries to figure out bottle-feeding, but this little girl got the idea immediately.

  Alaina knelt on the other side and offered to hold the bottle.

  “Okay, but it’s going to be messy. You can see she’s already slobbery and she may headbutt you, the way she’d butt her mama’s udder to try to make the milk come faster.”

  Alaina shrugged. “Conveniently, you have a washer and dryer in the cabin. I’ll survive.”

  While she was feeding the new baby, he went down to the calving barn to get the remaining colostrum that Alaina had left to thaw.

  He appreciated her willingness to offer a hand. Brushfire probably would have been all right waiting until the calf had gotten some food, but now he didn’t have to. Gideon just didn’t like feeling indebted.

  Plainly Alaina felt the same, which was why she was insisting on paying him for the tours and making sure everything was signed and legal. Around Bannister a verbal agreement was u
sually all you needed.

  He sighed.

  The one trait he and Alaina seemed to have in common was a mulish determination, so the next twelve months were going to be interesting, to say the least.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE MORNING AFTER finding the orphan calf, Gideon headed down to the calving barn, certain he’d find both Libby and Alaina there with the new baby.

  That calf was still a mystery to him.

  He timed his cow’s pregnancies so they delivered during the early spring months, not early summer. It made calving a hectic period since a fair percentage of the cows needed some type of assistance, especially the first-time mothers.

  Laughter came from inside the building and Gideon stood in the main door, watching Alaina and his sister fuss over the new arrival. Along with other chores, Libby had insisted on taking over the orphan calf feedings, and though his tenant had a camera hanging from around her neck, she was helping.

  “Look at Rita bat her eyelashes,” Alaina said, holding a nearly empty nursing bottle for the calf to suckle. She rubbed its knobby head. “A day old and already a flirt.”

  “Rita?” he asked.

  Both women jumped.

  “In honor of Rita Hayworth,” Alaina explained, a defensive look growing on her face. “And I’m helping, not interfering.”

  “You assisted with her first feeding, so you’re entitled to be here. Besides, I told your lawyer you could have all the access to ranch operations that you wanted.”

  “Janet mentioned that.” Alaina’s tone was dry. “Has the paperwork come, by any chance?”

  “It arrived an hour ago. Envelopes for each of us. I heard you were going into town to photograph Jonah Westcott’s journals at the museum, so I thought we’d drive together and have the addendum notarized. The Bannister Credit Union has a notary public on staff.”

  “You don’t want to hang around while I’m taking pictures. I’ll go in my SUV and meet you there.” Alaina set the empty bottle aside and used a towel to wipe the calf’s muzzle.