Harlequin American Romance October 2013 Bundle: Twins Under the Christmas TreeBig Sky ChristmasHer Wyoming HeroA Rancher's Christmas

by Marin Thomas

  “Waste your money like that? There’s no need, honey. I’ll be waiting for you at the baggage claim.”

  Uncle Redd made a choking sound, and Gina suspected he was crying. Uncle Lucky had been his last living brother and they’d been close.

  Gina had also been close to him, had spent most every summer of her childhood at his Lucky A ranch. She teared up, too.

  Lately, Uncle Lucky had been begging her to come back and visit, saying he missed her and needed to talk to her about something important. Now she’d never know what he’d wanted to say.

  Why hadn’t she made more of an effort?

  She managed to tell her uncle goodbye before she hung up. She was sniffling and looking up the number for the airline on her smartphone when the com line buzzed.

  “It’s me,” her assistant whispered. “Where are you? Everyone’s here.”

  By everyone, she meant Evelyn Grant, the great-granddaughter of William Grant and Grant Industries’ first female CEO. That she’d even come to the meeting showed how important this campaign was to her. She wouldn’t like to be kept waiting.

  There was no time to grieve. Gina wiped her eyes, grabbed her iPad and left for the meeting room.

  * * *

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Gina sat in her office with Carrie reviewing what needed to be done with each of their clients when Gina’s boss, Kevin, knocked on the door. Wearing an elegant cashmere coat and scarf over his bespoke suit, he looked put-together, handsome and successful. Sure, he was a bit on the ruthless side and on his third marriage, but careerwise, Kevin was her kind of man.

  Someday, Gina hoped to meet and fall in love with someone with her boss’s drive and determination. “Carrie and I are just reviewing my client to-do list,” she said. “What can I do for you, Kevin?”

  “Are you sure you can handle the Grant campaign from Montana?”

  This was the third time he’d asked her that question since she’d told him about her uncle’s passing. “Absolutely,” she repeated with a reassuring smile.

  As the only member of her family under seventy, she would be expected to handle her uncle’s estate, meet with the attorney and cull his papers and personal effects before Uncle Redd moved into the house and took over the ranch.

  But that shouldn’t consume too much of her time, and she was sure she would still have plenty of opportunities to focus on her job. “Anything I can’t do from there, Carrie will take care of. She’s been in on this campaign from the start and she’s up to speed on everything. And don’t forget that next week is Thanksgiving. The office is only open Monday and Tuesday. That means I’m really only out three days this week and two days the next.”

  Gina’s assistant, who’d worked for her for the past six months and was only a year out of college, nodded enthusiastically. Like Gina, she dressed in stylish suits and great shoes. She was smart and eager to get ahead, reminding Gina of herself at that age—of herself to this day.

  “I’m excited about this challenge,” Carrie said.

  Seeming satisfied, Kevin nodded and checked his Rolex. “I have a dinner meeting tonight with clients and I don’t want to be late. I’ll leave you two to hash over any details. What time does your plane leave, Gina?”

  “Six a.m.” Way too early, given that she’d probably get to bed around midnight tonight. But for more than a month now, she’d pretty much lived on sleep fumes. With the help of copious amounts of caffeine and plenty of chocolate, she’d managed just fine.

  “You’ll be back the Monday after Thanksgiving.”

  It was a statement, not a question. “That’s right,” Gina said.

  She’d booked a return flight for that Sunday, giving her ten full days in Montana. That should be enough time to see everyone and straighten out her uncle’s affairs.

  “Give my condolences to your family, and have a good holiday.”

  It wouldn’t be much of a holiday. “Thank you, Kevin.”

  Her boss left.

  Gina hadn’t spent Thanksgiving or any other holiday with her relatives since her mother had died. They would probably expect her to cook Thanksgiving dinner, which was okay with her. She enjoyed cooking but never had the time anymore.

  “Um, Gina?” Carrie said, bringing Gina back to the task at hand. “I’m meeting some friends in a little while and I should get going.”

  “Right,” she said. “Let’s review day by day what’s supposed to happen between now and when I return. We’ll start with Grant Industries and then go over the other accounts.”

  “I’m ready.”

  Carrie didn’t quite manage to stifle a yawn, which caused Gina to yawn, too. They were both exhausted, but she needed to know she could depend on her assistant. A lot was riding on this campaign.

  “This is a huge responsibility, Carrie. Are you sure you can handle it? Because I can easily bring in someone else.” Several of her colleagues, including her best friend, Lise, would do anything for the Grant account. But when Grant Industries had signed with Andersen, Coats and Mueller, Kevin had selected Gina to manage it, and she preferred to keep Lise away from her “baby.”

  Carrie perked right up. “I’m thrilled to have this opportunity to prove myself.”

  Gina smiled, relieved. After reviewing all of their clients’ accounts, Gina shut down her desktop computer. “That’s it, then. My uncle’s ranch only has dial-up, but I found a hot spot for wireless so I’ll be able to stay connected.” She would have to drive about five miles into town to get internet, which was inconvenient but better than nothing.

  “Seriously? No wireless?”

  “Unfortunately not. My uncle was a rancher and didn’t use the internet much. I expect frequent reports from you on the Grant account and the rest of our clients. Numbers, feedback plus any ideas or concerns you have. That way I can keep tabs on everything and make sure nothing slips through the cracks.”

  “No problem.”

  “Great. You have my cell phone number. If you need me for anything at all, text me or call—day or night. Oh, and Montana is an hour ahead of us, by the way.”

  Carrie nodded. “Don’t worry about a thing, Gina. I can handle this.”

  Gina hoped she was right. Her job and her creditors depended on it.

  * * *

  DUSK WAS FALLING when Zach Horton exited Redd’s battered Ford wagon. Icy wind blew across the airport parking lot, and he clapped his hand on his Stetson to keep it from flying across the pavement. Time to switch to a wool cap.

  Redd blew on his gloved hands and squinted at the cloud-filled sky. “Looks like it’s fixing to snow tonight. Good thing Gina’s flight is due to arrive on time. I sure appreciate you driving my old heap to pick her up.”

  The seventy-one-year-old was too shaken up by his older brother’s unexpected death to drive the forty miles to the airport alone, let alone in the dark. “I’m happy to help,” Zach said. “I’ve been hearing about Lucky’s niece since he hired me. It’s time I met her.”

  She didn’t know it, but Lucky had left her the ranch. He wanted her to take it over. Correction: he wanted Zach to persuade her to take it over. “Where did she say to meet her?” he asked.

  “In the baggage claim area.”

  “She checked bags?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  Zach shrugged. According to Lucky, Gina Arnett was a marketing whiz, steadily climbing the corporate ladder. She’d recently been promoted to assistant vice president at her company. The whole family was proud of her.

  Zach was familiar with the type. Uptight, driven, goal oriented—he’d had his fill of women like her. He’d had his fill of corporate deals and one-upmanships, period.

  He doubted Gina Arnett would want anything to do with the Lucky A and had told Lucky so. But Lucky had asked Zach to do everything possible to persuade h
er. The rancher had taken Zach in when he was a broken man, and Zach owed him.

  There weren’t many people he counted as friends, and losing Lucky hurt. He would sorely miss the old man who had taken him in and mentored him in ways his own father never had.

  He and Redd entered the baggage claim area, which was noisy and full of passengers awaiting their luggage.

  After a moment, Redd pointed to a woman across the way. “There she is.”

  In high-heeled suede boots and a stylish camel hair coat over pants, she looked pretty much as Zach had pictured her, though taller. Her light brown hair was parted on the side and hung almost to her shoulders in a straight, sophisticated style. With big eyes, full lips and an air of self-confidence, she was knockout beautiful. Lucky had neglected to mention that.

  “Uncle Redd,” she said, hugging Redd tight. Her eyes flooded before she squeezed them shut.

  Feeling like a voyeur, Zach stood back and averted his gaze, giving them privacy.

  Finally, Redd let go of her and wiped his eyes. “Gina, this is Zach Horton—he’s the foreman at the Lucky A.”

  She raised her watery gaze to Zach. Makeup had smeared under her grief-stricken eyes. For some reason, that made his chest hurt.

  He whipped off his hat and extended his arm. “Pleased to meet you.”

  She had delicate fingers and a firm grip, her skin soft against his callused palm. “I’m sorry about Lucky,” Zach said, sounding gruff to his own ears. He cleared his throat. “He talked about you quite a bit.”

  “He told me about you, too. I remember how happy he was when he hired you several years ago. He was always talking about how much he liked and respected you. I loved him so much.” Her eyes filled.

  As the tears spilled over, Zach’s throat tightened, pressure building behind his own eyes. He turned away and nodded at the conveyor belt. “Here come the bags. Which one is yours?”

  “I checked three—two big and one smaller. They’re red with cream trim.”

  She was staying what? Ten days? This wasn’t a vacation, and little Saddlers Prairie had only one real restaurant. What did she need all that stuff for? Zach didn’t miss the laptop peeking out from her huge shoulder bag. She must be planning to work from the ranch. He’d expected that.

  Gina pulled the smaller of the three bags from the conveyor belt and Zach grabbed the remaining two. Redd reached out to take one, but Zach shook his head. “Leave those to me.”

  “I’ll take the other one, then.” Redd pulled the smaller bag from Gina’s grasp.

  “Thank you both.” She hooked her free arm through Redd’s. They bowed their heads and made their way toward the exit.

  * * *

  SHIVERING, GINA TUCKED her cashmere scarf into her coat collar as she, Uncle Redd and Zach made their way toward her uncle’s old station wagon. The icy Montana wind was every bit as biting as she remembered—not much different from Chicago in late November.

  Snow flurries danced in the glow of the parking lot’s perimeter lights. A few flakes could easily turn into a deluge, and she hoped they made it to the ranch while the roads were still passable.

  “You sit in the front with Zach,” Uncle Redd said, the breath puffing from his lips like smoke while Zach loaded the luggage into the cargo area.

  Tired from lack of sleep and the long travel day, and feeling emotionally raw, Gina preferred to sit in the back and just be. “You take the front, Uncle Redd,” she said. “I’m fine sitting in the back.”

  “That’s where the dogs ride. You don’t want to get dog hair on those pretty clothes.”

  He had a point.

  Zach slammed the cargo door closed and headed toward the passenger side of the car. “Hop in,” he said, opening the door for her.

  He was big and muscular and movie-star good-looking, with a strong chin and wide forehead, and he was tall enough that even in boots with three-inch heels, she had to tip her head up to meet his gaze. She’d noticed his striking silvery-blue eyes halfway across the crowded baggage-claim area.

  Despite her grief, and despite the fact that she was usually attracted to corporate-executive types, she was hyperaware of him.

  What drew her most was the sorrow evident in his face. No one had expected her still-spry Uncle Lucky to die at seventy-four. His loss would no doubt be keenly felt by Zach and everyone in town.

  She slid onto the bench-style front seat—Uncle Redd’s car was that old. In an attempt to get warm, she hunched down and hugged herself.

  Zach got into the driver’s side with a fluid grace she hadn’t expected of a man his size, shut his door and started the car. “Once the engine warms up, I’ll turn the heat up high,” he said.

  As he rolled toward the exit, she glanced in the rearview mirror at her uncle. “I’ve missed Sugar and Bit. Are they still inseparable?”

  “Pretty much. You’ll see them at the house. If you want, you can keep them with you tonight for company. Wish I had the room at my place, but I don’t.”

  The thought of staying alone at Uncle Lucky’s didn’t bother Gina. “Thanks, but your dogs won’t even remember me. I’ll be okay by myself.”

  “Probably better off without them.” Uncle Redd chuckled. “Bit still thinks he’s human, and that always gets Sugar’s goat. They’re like an old married couple.”

  “Sort of like Gloria and Sophie?” Gina teased. Her elderly cousins, widowed sisters, lived together and bickered constantly.

  “Exactly, and almost as old in dog years. Bit’s almost ten and Sugar just turned nine.” Redd sighed. “We’re all gettin’ up there—present company excluded.”

  “Don’t forget, I recently turned thirty,” Gina said. “That’s not so young.”

  Zach made a sound that could’ve been a laugh. “You’re just a kid.”

  She scoffed. “You can’t be much older than me.”

  “Four years. That may not seem like a big difference, but trust me, I’ve been around the block a lot more than you have.”

  “I’m not exactly naive,” she argued.

  “From where I sit, you’re both still babies,” Uncle Redd quipped from the back.

  Gina shared a look with Zach, both of them acknowledging that today, they felt old and weary.

  At last Zach cranked up the heat, and a welcome blast of warm air hit Gina. The highway was dark and deserted, with only the car headlights lighting the way. No one spoke. The combination of warm air, darkness, silence and exhaustion was impossible to resist. Gina’s eyes drifted shut. She was almost asleep when Uncle Redd broke the silence.

  “Gina grew up here.”

  Zach glanced at her, his face shadowed in the dash lights. “Lucky said that after you graduated from high school, you left town.”

  She remembered that day well. Her parents had both been alive then, and excited about her future, yet sad to see her go. She’d been the opposite—desperate to leave Saddlers Prairie, get her education and start fresh in a big city. All her life, her parents had fought about money and struggled to make ends meet. From the time she was in grade school, Gina had vowed to leave town someday and find a high-paying job. She had no interest in ever coming back, except for occasional visits.

  “She’s the first one in our family to graduate college, let alone earn a master’s degree,” Uncle Redd said with pride. “She’s a smart one and pretty, too.”

  “Uncle Redd!” Gina said, embarrassed.

  “Well, you are.”

  She snuck a glance at Zach. His gaze never left the road, but his lips twitched, and she thought he might even crack a smile.

  “Since the day she left she hasn’t been back to visit but three times,” Uncle Redd went on. “Once over Christmas break that first year in college and again when her dad—my oldest brother, Beau—passed that summer. After that, we didn’t see h
er for another four years, when her mama took sick with pneumonia. Marie was forty-two when she had Gina. She and Beau had been married almost twenty years and didn’t think they’d ever have kids. When Gina came along, they were over the moon. We all were. Of the three of us brothers, Beau was the only one to have a child.”

  “You don’t need to bore Zach with all that,” Gina said.

  “I don’t mind.” Zach glanced at her. “I knew you were the only kid in the family, but Lucky didn’t tell me the rest.”

  After another stretch of silence, Uncle Redd let out a loud yawn. Soon, soft snores floated from the backseat.

  Gina glanced behind her. “He’s out cold.”

  “I don’t think he slept much last night.” Zach rolled his shoulders as if he, too, were tired. “You’re in marketing, right?”

  She nodded. “I’m an assistant vice president with Andersen, Coats and Mueller.”

  “That’s a big firm.”

  “You’ve heard of them?”

  “I’ve read a few articles where they were mentioned. Do you like what you do?”

  No one had ever asked her that, and she had to stop and think. “I love it.”

  That wasn’t quite true. She loved the perks that put her in contact with the decision makers in big and small companies, and she liked the respect from her boss, colleagues, family and friends. “It’s hard work, though. Right now, I’m in the middle of holiday campaigns for several clients.” Her turn to yawn. “It seems like weeks since I’ve had a decent night’s sleep.”

  Even without the holiday push, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept through the night.

  “Let me guess—you live on caffeine.”

  “And chocolate. Lots of both.”

  “And you enjoy living that way?”

  “The chocolate part, for sure.” She smiled. “Everyone knows that if you want to get ahead, you have to work long hours.”