A Rancher's Christmas (Saddlers Prairie)

by Roth, Ann

  “We have guests, and I don’t want to be rude.”

  “Yes, but you traveled all day, and it’s an hour later in Chicago. People will understand, and they all know they’ll see you again at the funeral. Zach and the rest of us will hold down the fort.”

  Sophie nodded. “We made up the guest bedroom you always use and put fresh towels in the bathroom for you.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t worry about Lucky’s bedding. We disposed of it, so you won’t have to. We wish you could stay with us, but we don’t have the room. Unless you want to sleep on the living room couch...”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I think I will go upstairs in a minute.”

  After saying good-night to everyone and exchanging hugs and tears, she bent down to pat the dogs. They licked her and then trotted over to Uncle Redd.

  “Thanks again for picking me up tonight,” she told Zach. “I worried about Uncle Redd driving all that way, especially in the dark. I offered to rent a car, but you know how stubborn he is.”

  “Stubbornness seems to be an Arnett family trait.” Zach’s mouth quirked again, and Gina smiled. “If you can’t sleep tonight and need company, give me a call. My trailer is just across the ranch.”

  “Good to know, but I’m so tired I’ll probably fall asleep the second my head hits the pillow. Although if we didn’t have a houseful of guests tonight, I’d take Uncle Redd’s car and drive to the hotspot near the post office and check my email, just to make sure my assistant survived without me today.” Gina yawned so hard, her eyes watered. “She hasn’t called, so I guess she did. I’ll call her in the morning.”

  Zach thought about telling her to blow off work and take care of herself instead, but he doubted she’d listen. He ought to know—three years ago, he’d been just like her. Probably even worse.

  He nodded. “Sleep tight.”

  “And don’t let the bedbugs bite? When I was a little girl, Uncle Lucky used to say that when I spent the night here. Good night, Zach.”

  He watched her trudge up the stairs, moving as if she was beyond weary. It was going to be a rough ten days.

  * * *

  USED TO WAKING up early, Gina opened her eyes after a sound sleep. At first she had no idea where she was. It was still dark outside, but she could make out the faded curtains and old blinds pulled over the window and feel the lumpy mattress. She was in the small, plain guestroom she thought of as hers at Uncle Lucky’s ranch.

  But Uncle Lucky was gone.

  Bleary-eyed but feeling oddly rested, she stumbled out of bed. The chattering of the guests downstairs had lulled her to sleep, and she had actually slept though the night. No tossing and turning, no waking up and worrying. Which was surprising, but Gina wasn’t going to question her good luck.

  She peered through the blinds. Sometime during the night, a few inches of snow had fallen. It wasn’t enough to cause problems, but it blanketed the rolling fields in white.

  Uncle Lucky’s house was old and outdated, but thanks to storm windows and a working furnace, it was reasonably warm. So different from Gina’s childhood home, where winters meant shivering from the second she crawled out of bed until she climbed back in under the covers at night.

  It wasn’t exactly the Ritz here, but at least everything was in working order. Uncle Redd could move in without doing any repairs or updates, which would suit him fine. None of the Arnetts enjoyed spending money without a good reason. Gina had a very good reason for spending hers—to be successful, she had to look the part.

  Still in a sleep fog, she padded to the bathroom. A shower helped shake out the cobwebs, and once she fixed her hair and applied makeup, she felt much better. Knowing she would be meeting with the attorney that afternoon and not wanting to have to change clothes later, she dressed in a cream cashmere sweater set and gray slacks, a stunning outfit purchased on credit at Neiman Marcus. Sliding her feet into her slippers, she headed downstairs.

  Now that the visitors had all left, the little house was eerily silent. Much too quiet, but at the moment, Gina’s main concern was coffee.

  As a child, she’d spent every summer here, and she knew her way around her uncle’s cluttered kitchen. Now cakes, pies and breads filled every spare bit of counter space, but some kind soul had cleaned up last night and run Uncle Lucky’s portable dishwasher. Gina unhooked it from the faucet and wheeled it to its place against the wall, bypassing a stack of old newspapers that probably went back five years. Those had to go, but not just now. Coffee. She needed coffee.

  Uncle Lucky had always preferred the no-frills stuff, and his coffeemaker was the kind that percolated on the stove and took its sweet time. Compared to the state-of-the-art coffee and espresso maker at Gina’s condo, it seemed primitive.

  Not that she made her own coffee often. In Chicago, she could run down the street and pick up an espresso at any number of places. But Saddlers Prairie didn’t have many options. Barb’s Café was nearly a five-mile drive from the ranch, and the Burger Palace, a fast-food place, was almost ten. Neither was open for business this early. She was stuck with Uncle Lucky’s generic brand.

  While the coffee brewed, Gina cut herself a thick slab of cinnamon-raisin bread. She popped it into the toaster and waited. Without Wi-Fi, she wasn’t able to check her email and felt lost. She did have a text from Carrie. The rollout of the Grant Holiday Magic campaign had gone as smoothly as Gina had hoped, which was good news. Carrie didn’t mention the other clients, and Gina assumed that all was well.

  Her assistant’s personal news was interesting. She texted she’d gone with friends to a bar after work on Tuesday and had met someone. He’d asked her to go out for dinner with him on Wednesday, and she had been about to leave for her date as soon as she fired off the report with the campaign’s numbers. Gina would stop at the Wi-Fi hotspot and read the report later.

  At least one of them was dating. Gina texted back a thanks for the info and asked about the dinner date.

  She didn’t need to talk to her assistant this morning, but she was used to being busy all the time, and the lack of rushing around and accomplishing things was unnerving. She dialed the office.

  “Hi, Marsha, it’s Gina,” she told the receptionist. “Please put me through to Carrie.”

  “She hasn’t come in yet.”

  Gina checked her watch. It was after nine in Chicago, well past time to start the workday. “Where is she?”

  “Well, she had that dinner date last night. Maybe she stayed out late and overslept.”

  Not a good sign.

  “Wait, I just remembered something,” Marsha said. “On her way out last night, she mentioned something about stopping at some of the Grant department stores today. Maybe she’s at a store right now.”

  Conducting a visual check. That made sense. Gina let out a relieved breath—and then wondered what she had been worried about. Carrie was a younger version of herself. As eager as she was to move up the corporate ladder, she wouldn’t blow this.

  “I’ve been thinking about you and your family,” Marsha said with sympathy. “How are you doing?”

  “It’s not easy, but I’m managing,” she said and gave Marsha a few details. “Will you have Carrie call me when she comes in?”

  Gina disconnected and made a mental list of what she needed to do this morning. She would start with compiling Uncle Lucky’s bank statements and legal documents so that she could take them to the meeting with the attorney. Her uncle’s office was even more cluttered than the kitchen, and finding what she needed wouldn’t be easy.

  She also thought about the funeral tomorrow and all that entailed. Her family expected her to give the eulogy, which she’d started to write in bed last night. Gina didn’t plan on taking up too much time because other people also planned to speak, but she still needed to hone her speech and practice it.

  At some point she
needed to sort through the old papers and junk her uncle had collected. And he’d collected piles of both.

  Suddenly, she felt even more tired than she had yesterday. Last night, more than a few people had offered to help her with whatever she needed. After she sorted through everything, she would take some of them up on the offer and ask for help hauling things to the dump or the nearest charity bin.

  For now, clearing out the clutter would keep her busy.

  At last, the coffee was ready. It didn’t smell very good, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She filled a chipped mug and searched the aging fridge for milk.

  Casseroles, cheese plates and all kinds of food crammed the shelves. Thanks to the kind people of Saddlers Prairie, there was enough food in there to feed a small army. Even with Uncle Redd, Gloria and Sophie helping her eat it, there were enough meals to last until Thanksgiving.

  She took her buttered toast and coffee to the table and sat down. Maybe Zach would help them eat some of this stuff.

  Zach. Now there was a man. He was big and super good-looking—every girl’s dream cowboy.

  Gina frowned and reminded herself that she wasn’t into cowboys. She liked ambitious men in well-tailored suits. She hadn’t met the right one yet, but she had no doubt that, in time, she would.

  The coffee tasted awful. If she hadn’t needed the caffeine so badly she’d dump it down the drain. She was revising her eulogy and picking at her toast when someone knocked at the back door.

  Pathetically eager for company, she jumped up and hurried to open it. Zach stood on the stoop, his face ruddy from the cold. Against the backdrop of the blue sky, his hair looked almost black and his eyes were the color of liquid silver. His heavy parka was unzipped, revealing a flannel shirt tucked into jeans.

  “Morning,” he said, his breath fogging in the cold air. “I finished the chores and thought you might want company.”

  How had he known?

  “Sure.” She widened the door. “Come in.”

  After wiping his boots on the mat he stepped inside, bringing a whiff of fresh air with him. “It’s cold out there,” he said, blowing on his hands.

  “It’s nice and warm in here.”

  As Zach shrugged out of his parka and hung it on one of the hooks along the wall near the door, Gina couldn’t help admiring his broad shoulders, narrow hips and long legs.

  He caught her staring. His mouth quirked and he raised his eyebrows.

  It was a good thing she didn’t blush easily. “I was wondering whether I should offer you coffee,” she said. “Lucky’s coffeemaker is older than I am, and this stuff tastes pretty bad. But there’s plenty to eat if you’re hungry.”

  Zach glanced at what was left of her toast. “That looks good.”

  “I’ll slice some for you.”

  She started to stand, but Zach gestured for her to stay seated. “Relax—I’ll get it myself. I met the woman who made that bread when she brought it by yesterday. Her name is Cora Mullins, and she went to grade school with Lucky.”

  He pulled a plate from the cupboard as if he was family. From the way Uncle Lucky had sung his praises, she knew he’d thought of him that way.

  “May as well try the coffee, too,” he said, grabbing a mug.

  A few minutes later, he joined her at the kitchen table. He sipped cautiously. “Compared to the sludge Lucky makes—made—this isn’t half bad.”

  He made a face that coaxed a smile from Gina. “Believe me, I tasted his coffee several times,” she said. “I’m surprised I didn’t sprout hair on my chest.”

  Zach’s gaze darted to her breasts. Interest flared in his eyes and her body jumped to life. Maybe he wasn’t her type, but she sure was attracted to him.

  He glanced at her pad and paper. “Don’t tell me you’re working.”

  “I was trying to revise what I want to say at the funeral.” She bit her lip. “But thinking about that makes me sad.”

  “Talk about Lucky’s coffee. That’ll get a smile out of everyone.”

  She hadn’t thought of using humor. “Smiling through the tears—I like it.”

  Zach wolfed down the bread, obviously famished from whatever he’d been doing outside. “Before I forget, here’s the key to Lucky’s truck.” He raised his hip and set the key and her uncle’s rabbit foot keychain on the table. “He logged over a hundred and seventy thousand miles on it but maintained the engine beautifully. It runs great, but it’s a stick shift and doesn’t have power steering. Think you can handle that?”

  She scoffed. “I learned to drive in that truck.”

  “No kidding! So Lucky gave you driving lessons?”

  When she nodded, Zach shook his head and chuckled, a nice sound that brightened up the gray morning. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “The man was hell on wheels, pushing the truck so hard, it’s a wonder he didn’t burn up the engine he took such care with. I was picturing you with the pedal to the metal and the truck churning up clouds of dust. I’ll bet Lucky got a big kick out of that.”

  “Especially when I pushed the speed up to sixty—which was about as fast as the old truck could go.” She smiled at the memory. “I was fourteen, too young for a driver’s license, but Uncle Lucky said I needed to learn in case of an emergency. He took me out on a few deserted roads where the sheriff wouldn’t spot us and there were no other cars for me to hit.

  “I spent most every summer with him while my parents worked at fairs around the state, trying to drum up business,” she added.

  “I’m surprised your dad didn’t want to ranch.”

  “He, Uncle Lucky and Uncle Redd grew up on the Lucky A, but only Uncle Lucky stayed. Uncle Redd left to run the agricultural department of Spenser’s General Store, and my dad went to work at my grandfather’s farm equipment business. He said he liked getting paid regularly, but I don’t remember that ever happening. But I mentioned that the other night.”

  “Yeah. That must’ve been tough.”

  “I was born into it, so I didn’t know any better. But my parents did, and their money troubles definitely took a toll on their marriage.” Gina didn’t like to think of those times. “That’s why I left home and why I work so hard at my job.”

  For no reason at all, her eyes teared up.

  The concerned look Zach gave her only made her feel worse. “You miss him, don’t you?”

  She nodded and tried to blink back the tears. In vain.

  “Uncle Lucky kept asking me to come back and visit,” she said. “He said he had something to say to me in person. Now it’s too late, and I’ll never know what it was. Why didn’t I make the time to come back?”

  Chapter Three

  Gina hunched her shoulders and wiped her eyes, and it was obvious that she was racked with guilt for not visiting while Lucky was still alive. She also seemed tormented over not knowing what he’d wanted to tell her. Zach knew, and this seemed a good time to enlighten her.

  Even now she was beautiful, her eyes a soft green through the bright sheen of tears. She bit her bottom lip, and then freed it. Full again, it looked pink and soft and warm....

  Zach tore his gaze away. He had a job to do, and he wasn’t going to think about his strong attraction to her. She was mired in the corporate world and he wanted to stay as far away from that as possible.

  He handed her a paper napkin to blow her nose. “Don’t beat yourself up over what you can’t change,” he said, giving her the same advice Lucky had given him. “Your uncle knew you loved him, and that’s what counts.”

  “But I’ll never know what he wanted to talk to me about.” She brushed crumbs from the tabletop into her hand and dumped them on her plate.

  “I think I do.”

  “Oh? Tell me.”

  Her mouth opened a fraction, and from out of nowhere, Zach
had the crazy urge to taste those lips. Down, boy. He raised his gaze and gave her a level look. “Lucky wanted to talk to you about his decision to leave you the Lucky A.”

  She blinked in surprise. “That can’t be right. Uncle Redd is his brother. The ranch is supposed go to him.”

  “Lucky and Redd discussed it, and they both felt it should pass to you.”

  “But Uncle Redd never said a word about that over the phone or last night. I think you misunderstood.”

  Having sat in on the conversation, Zach shook his head. “I know what I’m talking about, but if you don’t believe me, you’ll find out when you meet with Matt Granger this afternoon.”

  “But I don’t want this ranch,” Gina said, looking stricken.

  “All the same, it’s yours.”

  “What am I supposed to do with it?”

  Zach figured that was a rhetorical question, and in the silent moment that passed, he could almost see her mind work—and it worked fast.

  “I guess I’ll sell it,” she said.

  Not if Zach could stop her. “That’s one option, but Lucky wants—wanted—to keep it in the family.”

  “Then he shouldn’t have left it to me,” she muttered, pushing her hair behind her ears. “I’ve had a lot of good times here, but I saw my uncle struggle every year. I know how hard it is to work from dawn to dusk, sometimes longer, all the while praying that Mother Nature behaves so that you can make a profit and survive another year. Sorry, but I’ll pass.”

  She wore a stubborn look that reminded Zach of Lucky. With that and the defiant lift of her chin, Zach knew she’d made up her mind. Still, he had a promise to keep. “At least think about it for a few days. For Lucky.”

  “You’re playing the guilt card. That isn’t fair.” Once again, she caught her lip between her teeth. “Even if I wanted to keep the ranch, and believe me, I don’t, I don’t see how that’s possible. I live in Chicago. That’s where my job—my life—is, and where I want to be. I’m a city girl now. Lucky’s known for years that I wasn’t coming back here.”