Christmas on the Ranch--A Clean Romance

by Julianna Morris

  A fluke of timing, Alaina thought. The Westcott brothers had received their inheritance in a period when Montana ranchers were going under. They’d taken the chance to become ranchers themselves, though the previous winter had shown it was risky to raise cattle in the northern territories.

  “Everything seemed to work out in the end,” she said.

  “It was a good life for the Westcotts. Montana became a state soon afterward. The Hewitt family moved here and dedicated their lives to upholding the law. We’ve had setbacks, but we’re survivors.”

  Pride resonated in his voice and the old longing to know more about her roots filled Alaina. If her mother didn’t do some research soon, she would give it a try herself.

  “Why didn’t Colby and his wife have a bigger family?” she asked, turning back to her camera.

  “Well, he was overseas a long time during World War II. They had a son, Arthur, but after that, my great-grandmother had several miscarriages. When Grandma Claire finally came along, they called her their Easter blessing. Sadly, Arthur caught measles when he was twenty and died from pneumonia.”

  “Were they upset when their daughter married out of the area?”

  “They probably weren’t thrilled, but she visited often and sent my mom here each summer when she was old enough. Mom did the same with us kids.”

  “That’s nice.” Alaina shot pictures of a chipmunk, then a hoary marmot lumbered into view and she took another burst of photos. “Did you know as a kid that you’d inherit the Double Branch?” she asked.

  “I didn’t think much about it, but I loved the ranch and the mountains, while Flynn wasn’t as enthusiastic. It could be why my grandparents and great-grandparents arranged things the way they did. Sometimes I feel guilty that I can be my own man, while Flynn is still running the Carmichael ranch in Shelton for Grandpa Joe.”

  “There’s no reason to feel guilty,” Alaina said. “I’m sure you both prefer your grandparents to be in such good health. Besides, Libby says that Flynn has full autonomy.”

  “For the most part. Grandpa Joe helps out during busy periods and can’t resist offering his opinion when he thinks it’s needed. But he does the same with me, too.”

  “Once a rancher, always a rancher?”

  “Something like that.”

  Alaina tried to stay focused on the area beyond, hoping to get more pictures of the marmot. They were appealing animals that used high-pitched whistles to communicate with their colony or warn them.

  But her thoughts kept getting dragged back to Gideon. How could she have let him get under her skin this much? She didn’t want to have feelings for him or any other man.

  Or did she?

  Gideon was making her rethink herself. She’d loved Mason, but he wouldn’t have wanted her to bury her heart with him. He’d believed in living to the fullest, and that love was an essential part of living. In fact, he’d be upset that she’d rejected any thought of falling in love and getting married again. And, while Mason had never blamed ranchers for worrying about their herds, he would have appreciated Gideon and his efforts to coexist with predators.

  Still, happily-ever-after seemed improbable with Gideon. Though he claimed to be less angry about his ex-wife, it didn’t mean he’d changed his mind about marriage or sharing his life with someone.

  Alaina let out a breath.

  Okay, just because Gideon wasn’t a likely possibility, she shouldn’t close her heart and mind to the idea of meeting someone in the future. She just had to stop thinking about him so much, and put up some of the emotional barriers he was so good at erecting himself.

  Anyway, her feelings were so muddled she wasn’t sure what she really felt. It was one thing to contemplate the possibility of love, another to decide where to go with it.

  * * *

  A FEW WEEKS later Libby walked out of the Made Right Pizza Parlor with Deke, a stiff breeze scattering leaves at their feet. Her friends had already left for Bozeman and she needed to drive down herself, but she’d wanted to eat dinner with him first.

  The group had chosen her as the excavation leader to thank her for getting them involved, which was awfully nice of them. She was lucky; archeologists could wait years for this kind of opportunity.

  “Cold?” Deke asked as she zipped her jacket.

  “Some. Gideon must be right about an early winter. We’ve already had two early snows, though it melted quickly.”

  They reached her SUV and Libby let Cookie out to run around before the trip down out of the mountains.

  She sighed.

  It was getting harder and harder to leave Deke. But while they’d shared an enthusiastic kiss after finding an artifact at the Dragon’s Tooth hot spring, he’d kept his distance ever since.

  She knew her own feelings—she loved him. And she was certain he loved her. But how did she convince him that their differences weren’t insurmountable?

  Things didn’t seem to be any better with Gideon and Alaina, either. They were polite to each other, which seemed less promising than when they’d argued often. Worse, they had stopped going on their tours. Of course, Gideon and his ranch hands were frantically busy moving the cattle and sorting the animals to be sold. It was the same with Flynn at the Carmichael family ranch in Shelton.

  Alaina sometimes rode out with the ranch hands, staying on the periphery to get the pictures she needed, but Gideon didn’t make any special effort to be near her.

  There was an urgency to Gideon’s preparations for winter. He’d increased his order of protein cake for the cattle and was splitting logs until late into the evening, putting up more firewood than usual in case the ranch lost power during a storm. So maybe he and Alaina weren’t having a problem. Gideon had tunnel vision when he needed to do something for the Double Branch.

  “Hey, you’re frowning,” Deke said. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. But it’s going to be hard to stop working on the site when winter arrives. We sent a camera up on a balloon and saw a large number of circular patterns in the tree growth. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but we know Paleo-Indians built round lodges with stone-lined platforms.”

  “It’s amazing those patterns could exist after so long.”

  “And lucky for archeologists.”

  Deke chuckled. “That’s right. I foresee a great career in your future. A doctorate and maybe a book or two or three.”

  “Gee, thanks,” she said, snuggling close to him.

  A truck pulled into the restaurant parking lot next to them, but she didn’t care if they had an audience.

  * * *

  “IS YOUR TEAM coming up next weekend?” Deke asked.

  “If it doesn’t snow too much. We’re going to—”

  “Hey, I want to talk to you,” a harsh voice interrupted.

  Deke looked up. It was Yancy Felder, who owned a ranch on the eastern edge of Bannister County. Felder wasn’t too bad most of the time, but he had a big mouth, especially when he’d been drinking.

  “What do you want?” Deke asked calmly.

  “Not you, her.” Yancy pointed at Libby.

  “What could you want with me?”

  Cookie raced over, offering a warning growl, and the rancher took a wary step backward. “Your brother is letting that woman stay at the Double Branch. I don’t like it.”

  “If you’re talking about Alaina Wright, she’s a wildlife photographer and none of your concern,” Deke told him.

  While Yancy had driven up in a white truck, Deke recalled he had a battered red pickup that he mostly used for moving hay around his property.

  “She’s more than that.” Yancy pulled some paper from his pocket and held it out while keeping a cautious watch on Cookie. “She was married to a famous wolf guy.”

  Deke unfolded the crumpled pages and saw a magazine article titled, “Scientific World Stunned by
Loss of Wolf Biologist.” The picture below was of an older man, but Alaina was recognizable in the background. She was the kind of woman who’d be hard to miss. Deke scanned the text to pick out the pertinent facts, Libby leaning against his shoulder to read it, as well.

  Dr. Mason Wright, 58. Respected wolf biologist killed in head-on collision with a drunk driver. Leaves a widow, fellow scientist Alaina Wright, 27. Also survived by his parents and a sister. A prominent voice in wolf conservation...

  It went on to explain that Mason Wright was one of the experts who’d advocated for the reintroduction of wolves to Yellowstone National Park, listing his degrees and the titles of his books, including two that he and Alaina had coauthored. Deke refolded the article and returned it to Yancy.

  “So?”

  “So we don’t want her in Bannister.”

  “We? You mean you. Don’t speak for the rest of us.” Deke struggled to keep the anger out of his voice. “This is a free country. Alaina has every right to do her work and be left alone. And if the sheriff’s office learns you’ve made trouble or threatened her in any way, you could be facing criminal charges. I’ll be looking into it personally.”

  Yancy went pale. “But...but her husband helped bring wolves back. What was he doing with a gal young enough to be his daughter, anyhow?”

  “That isn’t any of your business. Now go home and remember what I said.”

  When Yancy had driven away, Deke turned to Libby. Her eyes sparked furiously. “I’ll bet he’s the one responsible for Alaina being treated so badly in town,” she snapped.

  “I’ve only heard about two encounters with an aggressive driver. Is there more?”

  * * *

  LIBBY NODDED. “THE second time she was forced off the road. I just found out about it a few days ago. We wanted her to come into Bannister and have pizza with us on Friday, but she wouldn’t go. I kept asking and she finally told me.”

  Deke gazed in the direction that Yancy’s truck had disappeared, his eyes cold with restrained anger. “I should have arrested him.”

  “You don’t have evidence it was Yancy.”

  “Not yet. But if there is some, I’ll find it. What else can you tell me?”

  A quiver crept through Libby. She’d never seen this side of Deke; it was both sexy and disconcerting. “Um, that was the worst thing, but Alaina stopped shopping at the grocery store because they were so unfriendly. Then in August, Bill Anders canceled her order for snow tires. I bought the same tires from him a week later. And I’ll bet Yancy is somehow responsible for Alaina’s supply orders being returned, too.”

  Cookie was looking at her anxiously, so she gave him a comforting pat.

  Deke sighed. “I’d hoped Alaina’s interest in photographing wolves wouldn’t become common knowledge, but no one seems to know about it. The concern is her marriage to Dr. Wright. Funny, I would never have pictured her with an older guy.”

  Libby winced, recalling the way she’d fumed to Alaina about Dr. Barstow’s young wife. Plainly Alaina had been much younger than her husband, but really, what difference had it made?

  “Alaina was in love with her husband, that’s all that matters,” Libby said firmly. “Besides, you saw Mason Wright’s photo. That guy was hot. He didn’t need to prove anything to himself or anyone else.”

  “Uh, no comment. But I’ll phone Gideon and explain what’s going on.”

  “I can call him.”

  Deke shook his head. “Nah, he’ll probably use language he doesn’t want you to hear. Regardless, you have to get back to Bozeman for class tomorrow and shouldn’t drive angry.”

  “Too late for that,” Libby muttered.

  “At least let me know when you get there. Not because I’m checking up on you, because I’m concerned.”

  “Then I get something from you in return.” She looped her arms around Deke’s neck and gave him a long kiss. When she stepped away, she was glad to see he looked as discombobulated as she felt. “See you on Friday.”

  Libby opened the SUV door and Cookie jumped in ahead of her. She waved at Deke as she drove out of the lot.

  The man was impossible. A small part of her remained old-fashioned enough to want him to be the one to propose, but she might have to bite the bullet and do it herself.

  Otherwise they might never get together.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  GIDEON THANKED DEKE for the heads-up and hung up the phone, struggling with a mix of anger and disappointment. How could his neighbors behave that way toward anyone, much less a guest on the Double Branch? And what would have happened if Yancy had confronted Libby when she was alone?

  “What’s wrong?” his mom asked as he paced the kitchen.

  “Nothing for you to worry about,” he said automatically.

  She put her hands on her hips and gave him a stern look. “I may have had trouble coping after Stewart died, but I’m past that. Now stop trying to protect me and start talking.”

  Despite his churning emotions, Gideon smiled. “All right. What do you know about Yancy Felder?”

  “Not much except Grandpa Colby tried to buy him out once, saying he was a poor rancher and a worse neighbor to everyone in the area.”

  “He got that part right.”

  Gideon quickly gave her a rundown of what Deke had told him.

  Helene’s eyes turned bright with anger. “How could Bill Anders go along with that sort of thing? I would have expected better of him.”

  “There’s a family connection.”

  “That’s no excuse. Wrong is wrong.”

  Gideon agreed. A decent man was participating in Yancy’s misconduct and it was a bitter pill to swallow.

  “So what are we going to do?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to talk with Alaina and then go from there. Right now I need to work off my tension, so I’m going out to chop wood. Thanks for a great dinner. Your huckleberry pie was amazing as always.”

  “Thank the kids who had the patience to pick the berries,” she retorted.

  His mother had stayed busy all summer and fall, making jam and freezing gallon after gallon of wild huckleberries in July and August, all picked by the local Scouts.

  She and Grandma Claire had divided the fruit from the orchard, putting some aside for the horses and canning and freezing the rest. Helene had even collected the volunteer pumpkins discovered growing in the ranch’s old vegetable garden.

  “I found the original family recipe for pumpkin pie and bread,” she’d told Gideon a few weeks earlier. “So we’re well set for winter and the holidays.”

  He’d teased, saying she was returning to her pioneer roots in canning and preserving, but it had reassured him, as well. Her search for family keepsakes now seemed more like a treasure hunt, with calls back and forth with Grandma Claire to uncover the history of items like a sturdy handmade cradle and a cedar chest.

  Outside Gideon checked his phone for the latest weather updates, along with the application that tracked Alaina’s GPS location. It told him she was at the first wolf observation point she’d found.

  He was trying not to worry about her as much, though it wasn’t easy. Ironically she was probably much safer up there than around a loose cannon like Yancy Felder.

  Gideon put the phone away and swung his ax down on a chunk of wood. An hour later he’d thrown off his coat and was dripping with sweat, but he couldn’t escape his churning thoughts.

  Why hadn’t Alaina told him about the problems Yancy was causing? She hadn’t mentioned having issues at the grocery store or even how serious the road incidents had been, and he distinctly remembered her saying Anders Garage couldn’t get the tires she’d needed, not that her order had been canceled.

  They’d had their disagreements, but surely she knew he wouldn’t take Yancy’s side in the matter.

  Just then Nate came ar
ound the side of the barn with one of the barn cats draped contentedly around his neck. Bongo’s tail was waving and he was licking a paw.

  “Evening, boss. The boys wanted me to thank you for the new easy chairs you got for the bunkhouse. They’re a treat.”

  “I’m glad you like them.”

  “One of us could work on the firewood,” Nate said, gesturing at the oversized logs that still needed to be split with wedges and a maul. “You don’t have to do it all.”

  “You’ve got plenty else to handle.” Gideon didn’t ask the ranch hands to do chores around the house. He’d hired them to work the Double Branch, not take care of his household needs. Besides, they were already splitting wood for the bunkhouse. “Thanks for stepping up while I was showing Alaina around.”

  “She’s a nice lady.” Nate scratched Bongo’s neck and the feline’s purr rumbled, audible from several feet away. Of all the ranch hands, Nate appreciated the barn cats the most and made special friends with them. “You paid me extra, but I would have done it anyway. Besides, you rode fences and watched the herds on the days you were gone. Somebody had to do that.”

  “I just want to be fair.”

  “We like workin’ for the Double Branch,” Nate said after another minute, a curiously intent expression on his weathered face. “So if there’s ever anything that you and yours ever need, just say the word.”

  “Thanks.”

  He left, still stroking Bongo, and Gideon frowned, wondering if his employees already knew that Yancy Felder was spreading his spite around town.

  * * *

  AFTER A SLEEPLESS NIGHT, Gideon saddled Brushfire and rode out to speak with Alaina. Thick frost coated the grass and the aspens had turned a brilliant gold against the blue sky.