His Holiday Bride

by Jillian Hart

  “Then that’s a no go for Friday? I could make it Saturday night if that’s better for you.”

  “Awfully confident, aren’t you, city boy?”

  “I can sense you weakening.”

  Strange, because she could sense it, too. Without her eyes to deceive her, she saw more of him in the dark than she’d witnessed in broad daylight. He rode bareback like a pro. He hadn’t once commented on how unladylike it was to pack a Winchester and track rustlers.

  Careful, Autumn, or you’ll start liking him, and you know where that leads. She rubbed her hands to keep them warm. Her insulated gloves were not doing their job, which meant the temp was falling fast.

  “Well? Can I pencil you in for Saturday dinner?”

  “That’s the night before my brother’s wedding.” She was surprised at the hint of regret she heard in her words, and more surprised at the twist of regret she felt.

  “Wedding, huh? Do you need a date for that?”

  “You are persistent.” She was rolling on the floor laughing, or she would be if the ground wasn’t covered in wet, icy stuff. His laughter joined hers rising on the wind, and her heart lightened. Yes, it was very tempting to like the man, but did she dare?

  “I’m a fair shot because I did time on SWAT and a hitch in the army out of high school.” His voice changed, grew richer and deeper as if with memories both good and difficult. She would have given anything to be able to see his face, to read the emotions revealed there.

  “You were in the army?” She couldn’t say why that came as a surprise to her. Maybe because from the moment they’d met she had wanted to keep him at a distance.

  “I learned to shoot on my granddad’s property in Kentucky.”

  “Kentucky?” As in horses?

  “He was a trainer, but he kept his own stable. It’s where I learned to ride.”

  She had leaped to far too many conclusions. A small twist of shame spread through her, something that not even the bitter cold could dull. “And when you and your grandfather would sit and read Westerns together, it was in Kentucky?”

  “Technically in his house in Kentucky.”

  Impossible to miss the amusement in his voice. Embarrassment flooded her. “You didn’t know anything about cattle. What was I to think?”

  “You were relying on what you knew of me. I’m sure Tim, the mayor, had no problem telling everyone I was from a big city.”

  “It caused a big ruckus at the town meeting, since all the ranchers on this end of the county showed up demanding the council hire someone sympathetic to our needs. I was in that room, so I know.” She remembered how outraged several ranchers had felt when the new hire had been announced. “My dad said we ought to give you a chance, and I can see he was right. I guess I expected someone much different from you.”

  “And you can admit you were wrong about me?”

  “It appears I’m going to have to.” They crested a hill, and the wind picked up, whipping with a frenzy and driving ice through her clothes. Ford’s phone rang. For a moment there she’d forgotten they weren’t alone.

  Chapter Five

  His call done, Ford flipped his phone shut and jammed it into his pocket. He could have used some good news since he was frozen. Even his bone marrow was officially iced over. When he’d been cozied up in his old apartment near Chicago’s Chinatown considering a change, being a small-town sheriff sounded nice. Friendly. Warm. Especially since he’d interviewed in September when the temperatures had hovered in the high seventies.

  He was glad it would be exciting, too. Nothing like chasing cattle rustlers to liven up things. Might as well start his new career off with a bang. It had a huge perk, too. Maybe lovely Autumn Granger was looking at him with a new perspective.

  “Sheriff Benton said they lost the trucks. Because of the storm, they had to put down.” He hated to have to deliver the news.

  “I’m thankful no one was seriously hurt this time.”

  He heard that catch in her voice, the grip of emotion she probably thought she could hide. “This time?”

  “We’ve had rustlers before. Didn’t the mayor fill you in?”

  “He mentioned a little trouble now and then.” Now that he was clued in on the definition of trouble in these parts, it all made sense. Trouble at the Green Ranch last spring, a few incidences of it through the year. First thing Monday morning he would be in the office going over old files. “What happened?”

  “My dad.” Her voice wobbled, betraying her. He didn’t have to ask to know it had been a serious hit. He waited for her to clear the emotion from her throat, wanting the rest of the story.

  “He was in the ICU for six weeks. For the first two we didn’t know if he would live or die. I stayed at the hospital with him, and I can’t tell you how terrifying it was to wait through every minute of those two weeks praying he would survive.” She took a shaky breath, batted snow from her face and turned her horse cross-ways into the wind. “Come to think of it, I shouldn’t have let him come out tonight. Next time I’ll remember to hogtie him in the kitchen.”

  He heard a tad of humor in her words and a daughter’s love. “You wouldn’t do it, and he wouldn’t want you to.”

  “True. Plus, he’s a good shot. He brought down the helicopter, so it’s good I allowed him out of the house.”

  “Something tells me you know how to use that rifle you’re carrying. You’re just as good a shot.”

  “Sure, because my dad taught me.” More warmth and way too much affection to measure. A shadow rose out of the storm—the roofline of a stable. She dismounted clumsily, a little frostbitten. “This probably doesn’t come as a surprise, but I was a tomboy. I loved being outdoors with my dad riding horses, mending fences, feeding the cows.”

  Daddy’s girl. It was easy to picture her trailing after Granger, her red hair up in pigtails, riding the fields and hills just as she’d ridden them tonight. He tried dismounting and found that his right leg didn’t want to move. After some encouragement he managed to swing it over the horse’s rump and land on the ground, not that he could exactly feel his feet.

  “You’ll thaw,” she informed him breezily as she whistled and the horses followed her. Light and warmth beckoned through the fierce storm. When he closed the stable door behind them, he discovered he couldn’t feel his hands as well as he’d thought. The Lord was busy in this world full of strife, but Ford really didn’t want to lose a finger. It was his fault he didn’t have a better pair of gloves with him. A mistake he would not make again. He peeled off his mittens and blew out a sigh of relief. Pink skin, not white.

  “See? I told you.” She smiled at him, looking like a piece of spun sugar, flocked in white, the sweetest thing he’d ever set eyes on. “We had another twenty minutes out there before I would have gotten concerned. Dad’s and Justin’s horses are here. Looks like we just missed them.”

  “And your other sisters?”

  “Relax, everyone’s accounted for.” Snow shivered off her as she grabbed a pair of halters from a hook in the wall. She had to be frozen, too, although she didn’t show it. The horses clearly came first as she fitted one halter to the gelding he’d been riding and patted the animal’s snowy neck. “If you follow the fencing from here, it will take you to the backyard. You’ll be able to see the house lights.”

  “And if I don’t want to leave?” He swept snow off his shoulders and the front of his coat. His jeans were iced through, but he would thaw. The rustlers were long gone, and there was nothing else to do. He grabbed the currycomb from her grip before she could use it. “Do you think I’m the kind of man who leaves his chores for someone else to do?”

  “I don’t know what kind of man you are.” Her hazel eyes twinkled with mischief.

  “Then I’m not doing something right.” Boy, did she have captivating eyes. A man could fall right in and keep falling. Snow melted off both him and the horse, slipping to the straw-strewn concrete. This close, he could see a faint blanket of freckles across her nose, the
perfect cream of her porcelain skin and the blush of windburn on her cheeks. He breathed in the scents of snow and winter wind and fabric softener and something innocent and sweet as a candy cane.

  “Don’t think I’m going to succumb to your charms, whether you are a good lawman or not.” She waltzed away, ducked under the gelding’s neck and gently rubbed a splotch of melting ice from her mare’s forelock. “I don’t date.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t date? You’re single, right?”

  “Don’t take that tone with me.”

  “What tone?”

  “The one that sounds so friendly and nonthreatening at the same time. I’ve been down this road before.” She could walk the path in the dark with her eyes closed and her hands tied behind her back. “I’ve wised up and learned to stay off the road.”

  “I know what you mean. Have a few wrecks on that highway myself.” He kept his attention on his currying, combing with the lay of the coat and wicking away the snow. His words had sounded light and deceptive, as if he hadn’t been hurt in any of those romantic mishaps.

  Revealing. She gave Bella a kiss before slipping her pink halter over her nose. Who had broken his heart, and how long ago? Was that the reason he’d moved so far from home for a new start?

  She grabbed a currycomb and got to work. She shouldn’t be wondering. She shouldn’t be sympathizing. Most of all she shouldn’t get roped in by a handsome sheriff’s stories of his broken heart. Isn’t that how she’d fallen before?

  “So.” He drew the word out, studying her with a handsome squint over the back of the horse. “We’re on for the wedding?”

  “I don’t remember agreeing to that.” She wanted to say yes. How pathetic was that? She couldn’t even resist the impact of his dazzling dimples. She was tougher than that. She could outride, outshoot and outdo most of the men in the county.

  “There you are!” The door swung open and her father loped in, relief stark on his face. He swept off his knit hat, knocking the snow from the wool. “You get back to the house, missy. You need to get warmed up. I’ve got news from Sheriff Benton I need to talk over with Ford.”

  So, the newcomer had earned her dad’s respect. That was easy to tell because he was calling him by his first name. Autumn was all set to argue that her horse came first before any of her own needs, but Frank stole the comb from her fingers, patted her on the shoulder with reassurance and got to work brushing the rest of the snow off Bella. She didn’t need to ask if he would make sure she was properly dry and warm before bedding her down. Her dad knew exactly the way Bella liked her warm oats: with a tablespoon of brown sugar and half a sliced apple.

  Maybe the interruption was Heaven-sent, she realized as she backed toward the door. Over Lightning’s rump, Ford watched her with a look that said he was a patient man. He wasn’t done discussing a possible future date.

  Well, she was persistent, too. She bundled up before she stepped outdoors, blinded by the storm. The world seemed colder, the blizzard harsher than any before as she battled it down the lazy slope of the hill. Darkness closed around her. She’d been out in blizzards before, and this one was no worse than any other.

  She could hear Denny Jones’s voice in the howling wind, although it really was in her memory. No man wants a woman like you. You’re impossible to love. Years later, those words still held the power to cut her to the core. Ignoring the pain, she kept walking, determined to put as much distance as she could between Ford Sherman and herself. Every other man she’d dated had felt the same. Why would the new sheriff be any different?

  Light hazed through the darkness, diffuse and faint. With each step she took it grew larger, bolder until she stood shivering in the shelter of the porch. She stomped snow off her boots and fumbled with the doorknob. She tumbled across the threshold and into the mudroom, where she began peeling off her outerwear. Voices rang from the next room, a pot lid banged on a pot in the kitchen and the delicious scents of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon made her stomach gurgle.

  “Autumn! There you are.” Littlest sister Addison poked her head around the corner, her strawberry-blond hair swinging. Her big blue eyes and bright smile made her adorable. “We were staring to worry. Cheyenne is all worked up thinking the new sheriff led you off a cliff or something.”

  “I’m here. I’m fine.” She rolled her eyes. Hard not to love her sisters. “I have enough sense to come in when I get cold.”

  “Did you see Dad out there?” Cheyenne called from the other room. Footsteps padded closer. “I want to check his bandage. Make sure he didn’t tear his stitches. You know how he is.”

  “He’s in one of the stables hiding from you.” Autumn hung up her coat. Her feet were colder than she’d first thought. She couldn’t feel the floor. She joined her sisters in the kitchen, stumbling as she went. “Dad is talking with the new sheriff.”

  “Did you notice he’s handsome and about your age?” Cheyenne sounded far too innocent.

  “And you were out there a long time alone with him.” Addison’s smile deepened. “A long time. Alone. With him.”

  As if she needed to be reminded of that. The sound of his baritone, rumbling and friendly, was recorded in her brain. The image of him astride Lightning, sighting and firing like a marksman, was etched into her memory. “We were busy tracking, and you know how hard it was snowing. We could hardly talk.”

  But that hadn’t stopped them from having a nice conversation. Why wasn’t she sharing this information with her sisters? She smiled at Rori, who stood at the stove, frying up their breakfast. The wall clock announced the time. Four-twelve in the morning. No sense going to bed since she had to be up in eighteen minutes.

  Thank heavens the fire was lit and radiating delicious, welcome heat. She limped over to it and prayed Cheyenne wouldn’t notice.

  “I don’t know,” Cheyenne said as she poured a fresh cup of coffee. “If I were you and alone with a handsome man like Ford Sherman, a little snow wouldn’t stop me from a friendly chat.”

  “The next time cattle rustlers hit, you can pull riding duty with the sheriff.” Her face felt hot and she prayed Cheyenne wouldn’t notice how much she was blushing, either.

  “Me? I’ve got my own thing going on.” Cheyenne held up the steaming cup. “Two teaspoons of creamer, just the way you like it. Let me see those hands first.”

  “Nice and pink. See?” She took the cup and ignored the painful tingle shooting through her feet. A diversionary tactic was what she needed to get her mind and the conversation off Ford. “How is Edward? You’ve been awfully quiet about him.”

  “There’s not much to tell, since we’re both a tad busy.” Cheyenne was in her fourth and final year of vet school.

  “But you do study together, right?” Addison ambled up, nibbling on a strip of bacon. Trouble danced in her eyes. “He’s cute.”

  “And exactly how do you know that?” Cheyenne demanded.

  “I saw a picture of him. On your phone,” Addison said around a bite of bacon. “Those big, gorgeous brown eyes. Wow.”

  “You snooped in my personal things?” Cheyenne’s brows shot up. “You scrolled through my phone stuff?”

  “Oops. My bad.” Addy didn’t look the least bit sorry. “Was I not supposed to?”

  “Not supposed to? Addy! How could you?” With a huff, Cheyenne tugged so hard on Autumn’s left sock, the force rocketed up her leg and coffee splashed over the brim. Cheyenne, bent on checking for bloodless toes, spoke through clenched teeth. “Tell me you didn’t read my texts.”

  “Okay. I didn’t read any of your text messages.” Addy waggled her brows. “At least after the first few. How boring, all this, ‘I love you, Edward,’ ‘I love you, Chey,’ ‘Meet you at the library.’ Totally boring. How many of those does a girl need to read?”

  “Addison! How many times have I told you to leave my stuff alone?” Cheyenne bounded to her feet. “Where’s Dad? You are in such big trouble. Rori, no breakfast for her. She only gets bread crusts and
day-old tea. Cold tea.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Rori chuckled behind the counter. She cracked eggs into a bowl. Rori’s blond hair was tied back in a ponytail. Her big, bright blue eyes glinted with laughter. “I guess that means no French toast for you. Poor Addy.”

  “It was completely innocent!” Addison’s protest was adorable. She swept a long lock of hair behind her shoulder. “I grabbed your phone by mistake. They look alike. You know they do.”

  “I’m not talking to you.” Cheyenne’s chin shot up and she stormed across the room, her stocking feet making as much sound as a herd of buffalo.

  “Cheyenne! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m just saying the dude you’re dating is totally gorgeous.” Addison rolled her eyes. “So gorgeous.”

  “I can’t hear you,” Cheyenne called as she charged up the stairs and out of hearing range.

  “She’s mad at me. Maybe I shouldn’t have teased her.” Addy sighed. “She’s lost her sense of humor when it comes to that guy.”

  “Most women in love do.”

  “I couldn’t help myself. I did scroll through her phone, but it wasn’t my fault because my neurons totally melted down when they saw such a handsome guy. They don’t make men that handsome in real life, only in movies and in magazines. My thumb just kept hitting the scroll button.”

  “You were making up the part about the texts, weren’t you?” Autumn sipped delicately at the steaming coffee. Strong and sweet, it might scorch her tongue but it warmed her clear through. At least she was starting to thaw.

  “You know I was. Wait until she figures it out.” Addy dropped into the nearby recliner. The family room was cozy, big and inviting, and the deep-cushioned couch was calling her name. If only she could force her feet to carry her away from the stove. All that wonderful heat was simply too much to forsake.

  “Justin and Cheyenne and I drove the cattle closer to the house. Did you see ’em in the field?” Addison daintily nipped off another bite of bacon.