Christmas on the Ranch--A Clean Romance

by Julianna Morris

  She didn’t know why she’d said so much about her hopes for the future. Maybe it was because he’d asked instead of making assumptions.

  He was a good guide, stopping periodically to point out various landmarks, giving her time to enter the GPS coordinates on her map and make other notes. But when they rode up a side valley with a wide shallow river, she could barely contain her excitement. On the far bank she saw a broad scattering of bones. She reined in Nikko and lifted her camera to zoom in on the scene.

  The open space was backed by brush and had a high concentration of tracks. Wolf tracks, most likely. A fair amount of scat was present, as well. She took one photo burst after another.

  Alaina spared a quick glance at Gideon. He’d stopped, too, but was looking up the valley, so she swiftly entered the GPS coordinates in her notebook before shooting pictures of the surrounding area.

  “I don’t eat this well when I’m backpacking,” Alaina said later when they were enjoying the lunch Helene had sent.

  Gideon grinned wryly. “If my mom wasn’t staying at the Double Branch, I would never eat this well. She tried to teach us kids how to cook, without much success. I love having her here, I just wish Dad...”

  He looked so sad that Alaina put her hand on his arm. “I know it sounds like a cliché, but he’d want you to be happy.”

  “Not a cliché.” Gideon touched an errant lock of hair curling over her shoulder. “This looks like liquid sunshine,” he muttered.

  Alaina pulled back, her pulse jumping. “Cutting my hair short would be more practical, but I guess I’m not that practical.”

  “Practical isn’t always best. So, what sort of things have you been writing down?” he asked in a more normal tone.

  “Just GPS coordinates and stuff.” She took out the notebook and showed it to him.

  Gideon leafed through a few pages. “I can read the numbers, but the rest is like a picture language.”

  “It’s my own version of shorthand. I have symbols for certain animals and landmarks, borrowed from maps or just invented.” She pointed to an inverted v with squiggles across the middle. “That’s a mountain with snow on the peak.”

  “And this must be a bear,” he guessed, gesturing to another symbol.

  “Yup.”

  Alaina was relieved when Gideon returned the notebook without further comment. She hadn’t expected him to understand her annotations and didn’t want him to speculate about the PWRS she’d scribbled next to a set of GPS coordinates. Possible Wolf Rendezvous Site.

  If it was what she thought, it would be the first site she’d found entirely on her own and she wanted to keep it to herself for several reasons.

  “You seem happy,” Gideon said as they approached the ranch late in the afternoon.

  “Oh?” Alaina tried to make her expression more neutral. “It was a good day. I hate to admit it, but you can see a lot on horseback, even if it isn’t ideal for photography.”

  Gideon’s eyebrows went up. “When you first arrived, I would have sworn you didn’t even like horses.”

  “That isn’t true. I even considered arranging for one to ride this year, then decided against it.”

  “You didn’t have a problem getting pictures when Danger was with you, right?”

  The German shepherd had darted ahead of them, but when he heard his name, he looked back and yipped.

  Alaina smiled. “No, he’s great.”

  “A good cattle dog is worth its weight in gold,” Gideon said seriously. “I’m partial to German shepherds and border collies, but there are other breeds that do just as well with herds.”

  “Your ranch hands have a nice pack of Australian shepherds between them.”

  Gideon nodded. “Jeremy and Chad Singleton already had cattle dogs when I gave them jobs. Then Nate and the others decided to adopt their own. The animals are pets, but they also work, so I pay for food and veterinary needs.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “It just makes sense. But that reminds me of a favor I wanted to ask.”

  “What sort of favor?” Alaina said cautiously, though she was amused by the way Gideon had dismissed her compliment. It was nice of him to cover expenses for the other dogs. And generous.

  “It has to do with Danger,” he replied. “My grandmother raises and trains border collies and she’s giving me a couple. She and Grandpa Joe are bringing them to the Double Branch once the haying is done on their own ranch. The thing is, I don’t want Danger to feel displaced while I’m getting to know the new dogs.”

  Alaina was still trying to sort out his family relations, but she knew that Helene’s mother, Colby Westcott’s daughter, had married a rancher in Shelton County. Grandpa Joe must be that rancher.

  She cleared her throat. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Will you take Danger on your hikes? That’s why I asked if he’d been a problem the first time. It would help smooth the transition if he’s already in the habit of going with you. And it would also keep him occupied while I’m busy with haying operations.”

  Alaina sent Gideon a long sideways glance. She was certain that he remained ambivalent about her hiking alone and would prefer her to have his dog along for protection. She was also certain he was concerned about the way Danger would react to the new border collies. The German shepherd was fine with Libby’s dog and those belonging to the ranch hands, but he was accustomed to being Gideon’s sole canine companion.

  “All right, he can come with me,” she said. Danger was a nice animal and no problem in the least. He’d also been a reassuring presence on her first overnight outing. “But I’ll need his backpack and something to feed him.”

  “I’ll bring it over later.”

  Gideon looked so pleased with himself that Alaina was annoyed. He should have the grace to be less smug about her going along with his ploy, especially since they both knew it wasn’t entirely a case of her doing him a favor.

  When they reached the barn, Alaina unsaddled Nikko and groomed him over Gideon’s protests. The part she was the most uncertain about doing, lifting the gelding’s feet to clean his hooves, went surprisingly well. He was an accommodating animal and she was grateful he didn’t embarrass her by being difficult.

  Gideon, who’d ridden Brushfire for the first time since the stallion was injured, wasn’t as fortunate. It was plain the horse didn’t appreciate his feet being touched, even by his beloved owner. She tried to keep a straight face as Brushfire snorted and half reared.

  “Feeling your oats, huh? Stop being a knothead and behave,” Gideon scolded, though he didn’t sound angry, more just keeping up a running chat to soothe the stallion. “Getting back at me for feeling neglected, right? Well, it won’t work and you might as well cooperate.”

  Brushfire snorted again, stomped his foreleg, then finally accepted the inevitable and stood quietly.

  * * *

  GIDEON KNEW HIS focus wasn’t 100 percent and Brushfire sensed it. He was a fine stallion, though he could be rebellious on occasion.

  He put Brushfire in the large paddock, then patted Danger, who seemed more energetic after a day on the open range than before they’d left.

  Alaina might question his motives, but he was sincere about Danger needing a transition period. His cowhands wouldn’t necessarily own cattle dogs in the future and it was only smart to have more that belonged to the ranch. Grandma Claire knew that better than anyone, and had taken matters into her own hands by training two for him.

  Gideon was mostly concerned about taking the heart out of Danger. He wasn’t old, but he also wasn’t a pup any longer and might not adjust well.

  Alaina had gone to her cabin, so Gideon retrieved Danger’s backpack with its usual supplies and a large sack of dog food. He may as well bring it to her now.

  * * *

  “OH, AND THERE’S news about Dr. Barstow,” Janet
said. She’d called to ask how the second tour with Gideon had gone and had already heard about Alaina’s hopes that she’d spotted a wolf rendezvous site.

  Excited and unable to sit still, Alaina looked out the front cabin window. “Oops, hold that thought. Gideon is headed this way. I’ll call you back.”

  “Leave me on so I can hear the hunk’s voice. The pictures you sent of him were delicious. I’m anxious to find out if he sounds as good as he looks.”

  Alaina laughed. She didn’t disconnect the call. Instead she slipped the phone into her shirt pocket. “Hi, Gideon,” she said, opening the door.

  He handed her Danger’s backpack before swinging a sack of dog food off his shoulder and depositing it on the porch. “As promised. I appreciate you being willing to look after Danger. Do you want me to put his food in the pantry?”

  “Thanks, but I can manage.”

  “Then I’ll see you later. Let me know when you need another bag.”

  Alaina nodded, waiting until Gideon had turned around before dragging the sack into the cabin. She took the phone from her pocket after closing the door again.

  “Still there, Janet?”

  “You bet. I could sip my martini and listen to that deep voice all evening. Not that he said much.”

  “Gideon can be a man of few words. Now, what were you saying about Dr. Barstow?”

  “Ah, yes. It bothered me, so I made inquiries. News is about to break that will seriously tarnish his reputation. So tell Ms. Cranston that if she has friends on Barstow’s current archeology team, they should get out right away. These things snowball and they won’t want their names associated with him. Everything he’s touched will likely come under suspicion.”

  Alaina winced. Janet had a passion for justice, which was great, but Libby was concerned about possible backlash.

  “Uh, Janet—”

  “Not to worry,” her sister-in-law interrupted. “None of this will be connected to Libby Cranston. I can’t even take credit, as much as I’d like to. A museum in Los Angeles recently purchased a gold Incan figurine that Barstow claimed he found in a wrecked Spanish galleon. The piece is genuine, but he wasn’t the one who found it. Turns out, the figurine is actually from a private collection his grandfather bought at auction over sixty years ago.”

  “Wow. The museum must be unhappy.”

  “That’s an understatement. The curator is trying to track the provenance prior to the auction, but it’s murky after so much time. Before doing a press release, they’re quietly warning other museums who’ve dealt with Barstow.”

  Alaina whistled. “How did he expect to get away with something like that?”

  “He must have been doing it for years, but got careless or desperate. The real money is in his book sales, which meant he had to keep making fabulous finds to maintain the dashing archeologist Indiana Jones image. But nobody is that good or lucky. He was bound to be caught at some point.”

  “It was nice of you to check into him.”

  “You know how much I hate charlatans and cheats.”

  They chatted another few minutes before saying goodbye.

  Alaina debated what to do, then sent Libby a text, asking her to come over for a visit after dinner.

  If Dr. Barstow had kept Libby on the team, she would have been in New Mexico when the news broke. Student interns probably wouldn’t be found guilty by association, but there were no guarantees. Libby might have seen her career end before it began.

  So this was one thing that was coming out very right.

  * * *

  THREE AND A half weeks later, Alaina lay flat on her stomach in the rocky outcropping she’d found to watch the wolves. Her observation post overlooked a shallow river valley and provided enough seclusion for camping.

  She rarely saw the wolves or their puppies during the midday hours since they had multiple rendezvous sites around the area. But mornings and evenings they sometimes came down to the water to relax and howl. They often showed up when the mountain breezes were strongest and it seemed to be a favorite time to howl, so she’d named the pack the Wind Singers.

  Alaina looked over at Danger, who was lying on his stomach, head up, quietly alert. At first she’d wondered if he would become unruly at seeing or hearing his wild cousins, but while his eyes widened and his body tensed, he didn’t move a muscle.

  She peered again over the small ridge that helped keep the wolves from seeing her. Her location was ideal. The breezes were strongest off the slopes across the small valley, so her scent was carried away from them. And a quarter mile behind her, there was a bubbling spring where she could get water.

  Danger moved slightly, catching Alaina’s attention. He’d turned his head and the energy in his body had changed from watchful to eager. She followed the direction of his gaze and wrinkled her nose.

  It was Gideon. Though still some distance away, she could tell he was riding Brushfire.

  Drat.

  The Wind Singer pack wouldn’t venture back into the open for days if he rode up the valley. What was he doing here, anyhow? The major push on haying was over, but the nearest herd was over a mile away.

  Alaina did a quick visual check of the campsite, hoping Gideon wouldn’t see her since she was above him in elevation. Aside from a solar unit recharging one of her camera batteries, everything was tucked out of sight in a rock crevice.

  She flattened herself to the ground as much as possible. Following her lead, Danger did the same, though his ears were tipped forward and his gaze remained fixed on the horse and rider. This was their third consecutive day away from the ranch center, so he had to be missing Gideon.

  Below the mouth of the spring, Gideon stopped and dismounted, tying Brushfire’s reins to a tree limb. Then he climbed directly toward their location.

  Alaina’s mouth tightened. He was too darned observant.

  “Surprised to see me?” he asked as he crouched to greet Danger, who was so excited he couldn’t stop his tail from whipping back and forth.

  Alaina shrugged. “This is your ranch.”

  Gideon sat next to her, staying low, and gestured to the camera and long attached lens she’d left in position. “See any wolves?”

  “An otter family was splashing in the river earlier.”

  “That isn’t what I asked. But to reassure you, I already know this area is the eastern edge of a wolf pack’s territory. And for the record, the most I’ve done is fire my rifle to scare them away from a herd.”

  Alaina glared. “You could have told me about them when I first asked about wolves. I might have gotten pictures of the pups when they were even younger.”

  “Wasn’t it more fun to discover them on your own?”

  “That isn’t why you didn’t tell me.”

  “True. But I showed you this valley on our second tour, so I wasn’t misdirecting you, either. I’m impressed. You even found the best place to observe the pack. I’ve been up here a couple times myself, though not this year.”

  “Lucky me.” Alaina lay on her stomach again to watch the valley below.

  Gideon followed suit, his warmth burning against her arm. It was infuriating to be so aware of him. She tried to clear her mind and stay focused on the area across the river where the pack usually appeared.

  There were just five wolves in the group, not counting the pups. The alpha male was mostly black, while his mate’s coat was the more typical tawny, with banded black, gold and white. One of the subordinates was white with black guard hairs, and the other two shared the female alpha’s coloring.

  Their intensity and beauty took her breath away.

  From the corner of Alaina’s eye, she saw Gideon using a pair of binoculars. He’d probably get bored before long. The pack didn’t show up that often. A rancher was too busy to just sit and watch a river flow.

  A silent hour passed and she sighed. Gideo
n was a distraction she didn’t need. “Shouldn’t you get back to the ranch before dark?”

  “I have plenty of time. Besides, there’s a full moon tonight and horses have excellent night vision.”

  “Hmm.”

  Another twenty minutes went by as the sun sank lower and there was a subtle shifting of day into summer evening. It was a time when golden light infused everything with a hint of magic...or at least it was magical to her.

  Then it happened.

  One by one, four wolves appeared from the underbrush. They were alert, noses high as they sniffed the eddies of air. After an endless moment the alpha nuzzled his mate as if signaling that all was well. Two of the subordinate members of the pack began playing, rolling on the ground in a mock battle. Alaina figured the third subordinate was still with the juveniles.

  Her camera whirred as she took one burst of photos after another.

  The fifth pack member now appeared with the puppies. There were four, around three months old and typically playful, stalking and pouncing on each other. They still had the awkward, charming look of babies, with feet and heads too big for their bodies and eyes only just turning from baby blue to an adult wolf’s golden hue.

  The play ended when the alpha male lifted his nose and let out a howl. The others followed suit, even the youngsters, and a chorus filled the valley, singing to music only they could hear.

  * * *

  GIDEON HAD NEVER heard the entire pack howling before; he’d mostly caught glimpses of the pack when he had a chance to come up this far. Now he held his breath, willing the haunting cries to continue.

  When they finally faded, he saw Alaina was looking at him. “Incredible,” he whispered. “No wonder you want to capture their wildness with your camera.”

  Her extraordinary eyes softened. “Their essence anyway. I call them the Wind Singer pack because they seem to howl the most when the breeze is blowing.”

  Wind Singer.