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A Ranger For Christmas (Linda Lael Miller Presents; Men 0f The West Book 40)

Page 6

by Stella Bagwell


  The bite of food he’d just swallowed hit his stomach like a chunk of granite and he reached for his glass of tea.

  “So you’re telling me she’s one of the rich Hollisters? I can’t believe it. She’s never so much as mentioned anything about the ranch or being a part of a family dynasty.”

  Zane grimaced. “Well, no. I don’t figure she would. With her looks, she probably has enough problems without making things worse.”

  “You’re talking about money now,” Sawyer stated dully, while wondering why Zane’s revelation had left him feeling ill. Hell, it didn’t matter if Vivian was rich or poor. That didn’t change the way she looked, the way she smiled at him, the way she made him feel every time he looked at her.

  “What else?” Zane quipped as he dipped a fry into a puddle of ketchup. “No doubt she’s always had to worry about men coming after her just as a means to get to her family’s wealth.”

  Had that been the problem between her and her ex-husband? Sawyer wondered. Had she discovered he’d married her just for the Hollister money? On the other hand, she was a desirable woman. How could any man want money more than her? And how would she ever know what a man was really feeling about her?

  The troubling questions swirling around in Sawyer’s head must have shown on his face because Zane suddenly asked, “What’s wrong? You honestly weren’t thinking about making a play for her, were you?”

  “No. Not really,” he lied, while thinking his intentions, whatever they might be, weren’t any of Zane’s business.

  “Well, I’ll be the first to admit that you’re good at getting women,” Zane said, “but Vivian Hollister is on a whole different level than the two of us.”

  Technically, that was true, Sawyer decided. But whenever he was with her, it didn’t feel that way. Still, working together wasn’t the same as dating. She might be a real snob when it came to picking her dates.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Sawyer said with a frown. “We’re not supposed to fraternize with our coworkers.”

  Zane chuckled knowingly. “Since when has that rule ever stopped you?”

  * * *

  Hours later, in the Three Rivers ranch house, most everyone had retired for the evening when Vivian left the kitchen with intentions of going upstairs to her bedroom. She was halfway down the hallway when she spotted a shaft of light shining beneath the door of her mother’s office.

  Pausing, she tapped her knuckles on the closed door and stepped inside to see Maureen Hollister sitting behind a big oak desk. The same desk Vivian’s father had used until his untimely death six years ago. Since that time, their mother had worked tirelessly to make sure the hundred-and-seventy-year-old ranch was thriving and her tight-knit family was healthy and happy and together. For the most part, Maureen appeared content with her life, but there were times Vivian could tell her mother was lonely.

  “Mom, when are you going to quit putting in such long hours? It’s nearly eleven thirty. You should be in bed,” Vivian gently scolded as she moved deeper into the quiet study.

  Maureen glanced up from a stack of receipts. “Look who’s talking. You should be in bed, too. Five o’clock comes early in the morning.”

  Vivian eased into one of the green wing chairs situated in front of the desk. “I’ve been helping Hannah with her math. And that prompted a trip to the kitchen for a piece of the carrot cake Reeva made for dessert.”

  With a dry little laugh, Maureen rolled her shoulders to ease the stiffness in her neck. “You always did think doing your homework deserved a reward. If you think middle school math is a challenge, you should try going over these ranch accounts. Why is it that Jazelle only remembers half of the time to keep the grocery receipts? She’s worked for us for how long now? Four years? And still, when Reeva sends her to town for supplies, she can’t remember to hang on to a receipt.”

  “Give her a break, Mom. Jazelle is a single mother, trying to make a decent life for her little boy. She has a lot on her mind.”

  Sighing, Maureen reached up and pulled her thick dark hair from the ponytail she’d pulled it into early this morning. “You’re right. Jazelle is a hard worker. Probably the best housekeeper we’ve ever had, on top of that. I won’t scold her over the receipt. I’ll just tell Reeva to gently remind her about them.”

  “You look tired,” Vivian said as she observed her mother gently messaging her temples. “Did you work out on the range with the men today?”

  “They were a little shorthanded and Matthew was rotating a couple of herds to different grazing areas. I spent most of the day in the saddle.”

  Vivian could only hope whenever she reached her early sixties, she was as strong and vibrant as her mother was now. “I’d say hire more hands, but that wouldn’t keep you in the house or off a horse.”

  Maureen ran her fingers through her hair, then rested her head against the back of the leather executive chair. “Not in the least. But I will admit it’s time to quit for the night. After I have a talk with you,” she added.

  “A talk about what? You see me every day and we both need to be in bed.”

  “I know, but we’ve not had a chance to talk much in the past couple of days. I wanted to ask you how Louis is doing. It’s such a shame about his leg.”

  “I learned this morning from Mort that Louis’s surgery went well. Barring any problems he’ll be going home in the next couple of days. But of course he’s going to need lots of rehab once everything heals.”

  “He’s a strong man. He’ll get through it. Bet you’re missing him, though. You’ve worked with Louis ever since you became a ranger.” She sighed, her expression turning wistful. “Oh, Lord, those days seem like ages ago. Your dad was so proud of you. Remember how he snapped all those pictures of you that first day you got your uniform?”

  The question was moot and just her mother’s way of reminiscing. Both of them were well aware that Vivian’s room was full of photos her father had taken of her over the years. Not just in her ranger uniform, but riding horses, working in the cattle pens and at the chuck wagon. Joel had been exceptionally proud of his sons, while at the same time, he’d been very loving and protective of both his daughters.

  “I disappointed Dad when I married Garth,” Vivian said, glumly.

  “You made up for it when you gave him a beautiful granddaughter,” Maureen pointed out.

  Joel had been crazy about Hannah, but Three Rivers had been his very life. Passed down through generations of Hollisters, he’d wanted all his children to invest their lives in the ranch. “Dad wanted me to work on the ranch. He always made his feelings clear about that. But before he died I think he’d come to realize that I was meant to be a park ranger. The job suits me.”

  “Of course it suits you. And the main thing Joel wanted was for his children to be happy. No matter what profession they chose.”

  Vivian gave her mother a wan smile. “Speaking of my job, I have a new partner now. His name is Sawyer Whitehorse.”

  Her announcement suddenly wiped the fatigue from Maureen’s face. “When did this happen?” she asked eagerly. “You’ve not said anything.”

  “Yesterday morning. He walked into headquarters right before work started. Damn Mort. He sprung the guy on me without any warning. But—well, so far it’s working out.”

  Which was putting it mildly, Vivian thought. For the past twenty-four hours her thoughts had been consumed with Sawyer. The way he looked and smelled, the sound of his voice, the power and grace in the way he moved. And that smile. Each time it spread across his face, something in the pit of her stomach quivered like partially melted gelatin.

  Her interest clearly piqued, Maureen said, “Well, this is news. Is he a family man? Do you like him?”

  The questions made her want to groan and laugh at the same time. How could anyone not like Sawyer? Charm oozed from the man’s pores. As for being a family man, she figured he’d ru
n from matrimony as fast and far as those long legs of his would carry him.

  “Sawyer doesn’t have a family. He’s only twenty-nine. But I guess you could say he’s sort of a family man. You see, he lives with his grandmother—it’s just the two of them. And from what I can tell he’s very protective of her. They live on the reservation, near Camp Verde.”

  “Oh. Then he must be from the Yavapai or Apache tribe,” Maureen said thoughtfully.

  “Apache. And Mom, the man is drop-dead gorgeous.”

  Her mother let out a short, quizzical laugh. “Vivian, you’ve surprised me. I’ve never heard you say that about any man. Not even Garth.”

  A rush of heat stung Vivian’s cheeks. She’d not exactly meant to describe Sawyer in such terms, but the words had rolled out of her without resistance or forethought.

  “I’m just being honest,” she said with a shrug of one shoulder. “And along with being good-looking he’s a heck of a ranger.”

  Maureen’s brows arched with skepticism. “The man has been there two days and you’re already labeling him as a heck of a ranger. It’s not like you to make snap judgments.”

  “This isn’t snap, Mom. It’s obvious.” Scooting to the edge of her seat, she spoke with an eagerness that surprised herself as much as it did her mother. “Sawyer and I led a group to Indian Mesa today and he was wonderful. He correctly answered all kinds of questions the park visitors asked about the ruins. Not only that, along the way he pointed out a few rare plants and a small den of sidewinders. I’m telling you, Mom, I was impressed.”

  Maureen’s expression turned indulgent. “That is supposed to be part of a ranger’s job, isn’t it? To answer questions about things on the park?”

  “Yes, but like you said, Sawyer’s only been at Lake Pleasant for two days. He doesn’t know its history. He’s been crash studying, though. That’s how committed he is to the job.”

  “I can see that impresses you.”

  “Well, of course it does. He’s only going to be at Lake Pleasant for about six months. He could just go through the motions, until he’s transferred back to Dead Horse Ranch, but he’s not that kind of man. He’s kind of like Dad was. You know, if you don’t want to give your job everything, then find a different one.”

  A tender smile tilted her mother’s lips and in that moment, Vivian felt sad and envious at the same time. Maureen had been truly blessed to have experienced a great love with her husband, Joel. She’d given him six children, and for more than twenty-five years they’d raised their babies and worked the ranch together. To have such a great marriage cut short by Joel’s death had been tragic, but on the other hand, her mother had been truly loved by a man. That was something Vivian could only dream about.

  “Oh, how well I remember Joel saying those words,” Maureen murmured, then leveled a soft gaze at her daughter. “I take it that you like this new ranger?”

  Something fluttered in the middle of her chest. “I do. But don’t worry, Mom. I don’t mean like in a romantic way. Sawyer is a professed bachelor. He’s also a huge flirt. He’s not the kind of guy a girl gets involved with.”

  “You mean he’s the heartbreaker kind?”

  Laughing lightly, Vivian rose to her feet. “You’re right on, Mom. Add to that, he’s six years younger than me. And I’m hardly the cougar type.”

  Maureen rolled her eyes in helpless fashion. “No. You’re the lonely, independent, I-don’t-need-a-man-after-Garth type.”

  Vivian grimaced. “Okay, maybe I am all those things. But at least I can say my heart isn’t breaking.”

  Her mother leveled a pointed look at her. “Isn’t it?”

  Vivian leaned a hip against the front of her mother’s desk. “What does that question mean?”

  “Just that since your divorce I think your heart has never stopped hurting.”

  Vivian groaned. “Oh, Mom, Garth turned out to be a total jerk. My heart is certainly not hurting for him.”

  “No. Not for him. But you’ve been hurting for all you’ve missed. Of having someone to love you and be at your side. Someone to share your life with.”

  Something in the middle of Vivian’s chest squeezed tight enough to bring tears to the back of her eyes. “I could say the same thing about you, Mom. I’m not blind. I can see that you’re lonely.”

  Her brows arched with fascination, Maureen leaned forward. “Me, lonely? How did you ever come up with a notion like that? I’m surrounded by family and friends and ranch hands. I have a new grandbaby and another one on the way. What more could I want?”

  “You don’t have Dad. You don’t have a man to share your life with.”

  A shutter closed over Maureen’s face as she hastily began to thrust stacks of receipts and statements into a bottom drawer on the desk. “I’ve already had the one true love of my life. At sixty-two I’m past the age of needing another man.”

  “Really? A person is never too old to love.”

  Maureen shot her a challenging look. “Then what’s stopping you? Look at your two brothers. Blake and Joseph are so happy you can’t wipe the smiles off their faces.”

  “Yes, but they’re a whole lot braver than their sister Vivian. And speaking of sisters, I’ve promised Hannah and Nick to take them down to Red Bluff for the weekend. So we’ll be seeing Camille. Anything you want to send her?”

  “No. Just my love.”

  Vivian folded her arms across her chest as she thoughtfully studied her mother. “Why don’t you want to scold her for running and hiding? Why don’t you tell her she needs to find another man? Like you’re trying to tell me?”

  Locking the drawer of paperwork, Maureen rose and switched off the banker’s lamp sitting on the left corner of the desk. “Because Camille hasn’t wasted eleven or twelve years of her life like her sister. At least, not yet. And I don’t plan to let it drag on with her.”

  Ignoring her mother’s pointed jabs, she asked, “What do you plan to do? Force Camille to come back to Three Rivers?”

  Frowning, Maureen joined her at the front of the desk. “Since when have I forced a child of mine to do anything against their will?”

  “Uh, you made me wear that lavender monstrosity of a dress to church on Easter Sunday,” Vivian jokingly reminded her. “I was mortified.”

  “You were ten years old. And you looked adorable. As for Camille, if she likes living down on Red Bluff that’s fine with me. I only want her to be happy. But if I have to do something to put a smile back on her face, I will. I just haven’t figured out what that might be, but I will—in time.”

  Smiling coyly, Vivian leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Spoken like a true, calculating mother.”

  Chuckling now, Maureen dropped a kiss on the top of Vivian’s head. “Good night, darling. And I’m glad to hear you like your new partner. Maybe the two of you can learn something from each other.”

  Vivian arched a skeptical brow at her. Sawyer could probably teach her a few things in the bedroom, but her mother didn’t have that sort of “learning” in mind. Or did she?

  “Learn something. Like what?”

  With an arm at the back of Vivian’s waist, Maureen urged her out of the room. “He’s from a different park and you’re from a different park. You can mesh your knowledge and experience as rangers together and make a great team.”

  A great team. Sawyer had already predicted the two of them would be great together. Now Vivian could only wonder what that might mean for her in the days ahead.

  Chapter Five

  The coffee Sawyer poured from the stainless steel thermos was hot and so was the afternoon sun beaming down on the rocky shelf where he and Vivian had stopped for a break. But the heat of the coffee, or the warmth of the sun, couldn’t compare to the heat coursing through him as he furtively studied Vivian’s profile.

  For the past two days, ever since Zane had informed him that
she was one of the Hollisters from Three Rivers Ranch, he’d been telling himself to forget his plans to get close to her. He’d be an idiot to even try to generate a relationship between them. Not unless he wanted to put himself through a humiliating rejection. And yet, even the idea of her squashing his manly pride couldn’t turn off the attraction he felt for the woman.

  “Tomorrow is Saturday and we both have the weekend off,” he said, keeping his voice as casual as possible. “You have big plans?”

  She glanced at him and Sawyer thought he spotted a wary light in her eyes, as though she feared he was going to ask her out and she’d be put in the awkward situation of turning him down. But that wasn’t his intention. Not yet.

  “Actually, I do,” she answered. “A few days ago I promised my daughter and eleven-year-old nephew that I’d drive them down to Dragoon for the weekend.”

  Sawyer rarely traveled to the southern part of the state, but he remembered Dragoon being a tiny place not far from Tombstone. What could possibly be there to interest her?

  After a careful sip of coffee, he asked, “What’s at Dragoon? Or is that none of my business?”

  She swallowed the last bite of her cookie before she answered. “It’s hardly a secret. My family owns property in the area. A thirty-five-thousand-acre ranch called Red Bluff. Presently, my younger sister is living down there. I’ll have a chance to spend some time with her while Hannah and Nick ride horses around the ranch.”

  So the Hollisters not only owned Three Rivers Ranch, they owned a second one near Dragoon. The wealthy just got wealthier, but the news still didn’t diminish the urge he felt to touch her, kiss her. Even at this moment, he wanted to scoot across the rocky ground and sit close to her side. Instead, he stared out at the blue lake water lapping at the shoreline some twenty yards away.

 

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