by Amanda Renee
JINGLE BELLS—OR WEDDING BELLS?
Some people would have thought getting stranded at the Silver Bells guest ranch in Saddle Ridge, Montana, for Christmas—with the dreamy Dylan Slade, no less—was idyllic. But for real estate acquisitions expert Emma Sheridan, it’s a disaster! Because Dylan is standing in the way of the takeover deal that could secure her promotion and her daughter’s future.
Dylan has no intention of selling. So why does he suddenly care so much about what happens to Emma...and her unborn baby girl? Now, with a preterm labor scare and a serious storm conspiring to keep them snowbound for Christmas, Dylan has two weeks to change her mind about her company’s takeover. And maybe even about him!
“I thought my uncle wasn’t much of a gossip—turns out I was wrong.”
“Jax cared for you very much. Part of his reason for selling was so you could have your freedom again.”
Dylan tugged off his gloves. “Well, doesn’t that just beat all? This ranch was my freedom. My home. By taking it away from me, he was taking away every last breath I had.”
“He thought if you had a fresh start on your own ranch without the debt and problems of this place hanging over your head that you’d be able to move on.”
Dylan recoiled at her words. “Oh, you’re good.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your job is to convince me to sell and you’re using the information my uncle told you against me. I already know my uncle’s final wish was to sell this place. Doesn’t mean I’m going to honor it.”
“Forget I said anything.”
Emma stormed out of the stables, leaving him alone with nothing but a pile of manure.
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the second book in my Saddle Ridge, Montana series! The most exciting part of writing A Snowbound Cowboy Christmas was the freshly fallen snow glistening in the pristine wilderness. It has always been one of my favorite sights. When I used to live in the northeast, I would four-wheel to this one spot whenever it snowed and enjoy Mother Nature’s crystallized blanket of wonderment. Icicles hanging from leafless branches and that serene silence that accompanies a fresh layer of powder have always fascinated me. I’ve lived in the Deep South in my little beach bungalow for eleven years now, and snow is a rarity. But those snow-covered memories are still as vivid today as if they had happened yesterday.
My inspiration for Dylan and Emma in A Snowbound Cowboy Christmas were actors Shawn Christian and Danielle Panabaker. I easily envisioned them gliding across the Silver Bells Ranch in a one-horse open sleigh. And even though most of this book takes place on the ranch, these two manage to have quite a holiday adventure, right until the very end.
Feel free to stop in and visit me at amandarenee.com. I’d love to hear from you.
Happy reading!
Amanda Renee
A SNOWBOUND COWBOY CHRISTMAS
Amanda Renee
Amanda Renee was raised in the northeast and now wriggles her toes in the warm coastal Carolina sands. Her career began when she was discovered through Harlequin’s So You Think You Can Write contest. When not creating stories about love and laughter, she enjoys the company of her schnoodle, Duffy, camping, playing guitar and piano, photography, and anything involving horses. You can visit her at amandarenee.com.
Books by Amanda Renee
Harlequin Western Romance
Saddle Ridge, Montana
The Lawman’s Rebel Bride
Harlequin American Romance
Welcome to Ramblewood
Betting on Texas
Home to the Cowboy
Blame It on the Rodeo
A Texan for Hire
Back to Texas
Mistletoe Rodeo
The Trouble with Cowgirls
A Bull Rider’s Pride
Twins for Christmas
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
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To my editor, Johanna Raisanen:
Thank you for your invaluable guidance on this book!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Excerpt from The Bull Rider’s Plan by Jeannie Watt
Chapter One
“I’m not selling you my ranch.”
Emma Sheridan’s skin prickled beneath her down parka at the sound of the voice behind her. She’d recognize it anywhere. Dylan Slade. They’d only met face-to-face once during the summer and had three or four brief phone conversations since, but his masculine resonance was impossible to forget. He was every man’s cowboy and every woman’s fantasy. Okay, maybe not every woman’s, but he had snuck into her dreams a time or ten. Then again, it could just be her pregnancy hormones talking.
Emma handed her credit card to the front desk clerk at the Silver Bells Guest Ranch, and then turned to face Dylan. “Mr. Slade.” Her breath caught at the realization he stood less than an arm’s length away. “Please accept my sincerest sympathies. I only knew your Uncle Jax for a year, but he was a wonderful man with a generous heart.”
“That he was.” Dylan tugged off his work gloves and unzipped his whiskey-colored rancher jacket. “I appreciate your condolences, but it doesn’t explain why you’re here. We received your company’s floral arrangement.”
Emma cringed. She hated the customary funeral-home flowers her firm had sent. They were cold and impersonal. She’d mailed Dylan a hand-written card as well, but he didn’t bother to mention it. Then again, why would he? Her visit wasn’t to relay condolences in person. It was business. Business she needed to settle before her baby was born. She glanced up at him. His dark, well-worn cowboy hat shielded his eyes more than she’d have preferred. It made reading him difficult, which she assumed was intentional.
“I thought if we could talk—”
“You’d what? Change my mind? I’m not selling the ranch.” He shrugged out of his coat as he strode past her, revealing faded snug Wranglers that fit him better than any pair of jeans had a right to. Inwardly, she groaned, relieved when he walked behind the lodge’s rustic cedar-log front desk.
“You’re all set, Ms. Sheridan.” The check-in clerk slid her room key across the marred wood surface. An actual key. Her plans for the ranch included multiple guest-service agents and the latest digital room-entry technology. A guest’s Bluetooth-enabled smartphone would become their room key via a downloadable app. “I’ll have someone bring up your bags. Please help yourself to the complimentary snack bar in the dining room.”
“Why are you staying here?” Dylan tilted back his hat, revealing an errant lock of chestnut-brown hair. There was no mistaking his scowl now. “My decision isn’t up for debate.”
“You never heard my final proposal. At least hear me out.” Emma shifted uncomfortably in her too-tight rubber duck boots. The shoes were far from fashionable, but they were snow-friendly and easy to slip on. At least, they had been
before she boarded her red-eye flight from Chicago to Saddle Ridge in northwestern Montana. Now she’d need a crowbar to pry them off. “Besides, Jax told me he hadn’t booked any reservations after December in anticipation of closing this deal on January 2. It doesn’t look like people are waiting in line for you to reopen, so what’s the harm in discussing it?” A sharp internal kick to her ribs caused Emma to inhale. Her daughter had been super active today and the nerve-racking drive in the snow from the airport hadn’t helped matters any. She had read that her unborn baby could sense her emotions and today definitely confirmed it. The doctor had told her it was safe to make the trip, but he had also warned it would be her last until after the baby was born. “I have to sit down.”
As much as she wanted—correction, needed—to discuss the agreement Jax had made to sell the guest ranch, her feet had reached their limit. She tottered toward the lodge’s great room. At thirty-two weeks pregnant, she envied the women who radiated in the pre-baby hormonal glow and managed to survive the entire nine months in a blissfully beautiful state of impending motherhood. She’d trade an ounce of their exuberance for her swollen feet and ankles, not to mention the other parts of her body that had seen better days.
“Are you all right?” Dylan’s closeness startled her again. “Would you like a bottle of water?” He guided her by the arm to the most comfortable-looking chair she’d ever seen. “You look terrible.”
Emma laughed, dropping her handbag at her feet. “You really shouldn’t say that to a woman.” She unfastened her jacket, not bothering to remove it as she sank into the burnished leather chair near the massive granite fireplace. Oh, this is heaven. She’d definitely need help to get up, but she’d worry about that later.
“You’re pregnant.” Dylan’s deep blue eyes grew large as he stared at her protruding belly. “I had no idea.”
Feeling exposed, Emma struggled to pull her parka closed over her fisherman-knit sweater. Of course, now she was sitting on half of the coat, which made the task impossible.
“Eight months.” Emma rested her hands protectively on her stomach. “It’s a girl, but I haven’t chosen a name yet. I’m surprised your uncle didn’t tell you.” Jax had instinctively known, even though she hadn’t begun to show when they’d spoken. He’d said her panicked smile gave it away. Well, that on top of the morning sickness and the constant heartburn she’d had during her visit.
Dylan shook his head. “My uncle may have been somewhat eccentric and unfiltered at times, but he wasn’t a gossiping man. Not that your pregnancy is gossip.”
That wasn’t altogether true. The fact that her boyfriend of six months had ditched her the second he found out she was pregnant had made for great water-cooler gossip around the office. Especially since her job as a commercial real estate analyst hinged on her ability to fly anywhere in the world at a moment’s notice. That ended with this trip.
She traveled as many as twenty days a month and while her job paid well, it didn’t afford her the luxury of a nanny to accompany her and care for her baby while she was scouting resort locations or meeting with clients and investors. Once her daughter was born, she would be unable to meet the travel requirements her job demanded. She had two options: accept a lesser position with less pay or get the acquisitions director promotion she’d been vying for and work solely from their Chicago corporate offices. Acquiring the Silver Bells Ranch almost guaranteed that promotion. She refused to give up now.
“Water would be great. Thank you.” His exit gave her a chance to compose herself a little better and get out of her suffocating coat. The full-length parka was overkill for mid-December, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Plus, wearing it beat trying to stuff it into another piece of luggage. By the time she freed herself from its confines, Dylan had returned and she was perspiring profusely.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He handed her the bottle.
Emma twisted the cap off and took a long swallow. “I’m fine, thank you. It’s just the warmth of the fireplace and this monstrosity of a coat.”
Standing in front of her silhouetted by the midmorning sun filtering in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Dylan epitomized tall, dark and sexy.
“Good. Then go home. I’m not selling.”
And obstinate to the core. Emma had already decided she liked Dylan much better when he didn’t speak. Unfortunately, getting him to sell his ranch was why she was there. She refused to leave until he did.
* * *
DYLAN HADN’T EVEN grieved yet for the man he had loved as a father. Jax had been in perfect health, which made his sudden heart attack even more shocking. He had wanted to hold on to the ranch and bring in a new business partner, but no one wanted to invest in an aging ranch. Not even his own brothers. A part of him wondered if the bickering he and Jax had done over the sale had contributed to his uncle’s death. Now Silver Bells was his and he had to prove to himself that he’d been right to keep it all along.
Without steady revenue, he had to rely on what was left of his savings to float the business. Jax had stopped taking reservations months ago and Emma was right...no one was beating down their door to get in. They hadn’t been for more than a year—and the instant the ranch had taken a downturn, she had swooped in and offered to buy it.
Emma bordered between a vixen and a cherub. Her intelligence coupled with her persistence had hooked Jax from their first meeting. At five and a half feet, she wasn’t overly tall or bombshell curvaceous. Instead, the brunette had a wicked grin that usually ended in a friendly wink. She exuded charm along with a street-savvy wit that left those around her intoxicated by her performance. And it was a performance designed to lull potential sellers into a euphoric sense of everything would be wonderful once they closed the deal. She was a brilliant saleswoman and Dylan understood why she was so successful, but he could also see right through her.
Today, her perfectly manicured facade had a crack in it. But that crack made her appear more natural and she wore it well, despite her obvious discomfort. She winced for the second time since her arrival. The ranch should be the least of her concerns, and she had to be the least of his. He didn’t have the patience to deal with a pushy pregnant woman, let alone one who should be relaxing at home choosing baby names.
“Isn’t your husband worried about you?”
“Thanks for the concern, but I’m not married, attached or otherwise. It’s just me and the butter bean.”
“Butter bean? That’s what you call your kid?”
Emma rubbed her belly and smiled up at him. Any man worth his salt could get lost in her bourbon-colored eyes if he wasn’t careful. Good thing he’d sworn off women with kids years ago.
“I have craved butter beans since the beginning of my pregnancy. That’s how I found out I was expecting. A friend jokingly asked if I was pregnant. Biggest surprise of my life.”
“And the father?” Dylan held up his hands. “No, I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
“It’s no secret. He left two seconds after I told him.” She tilted her chin up defiantly. “I had his parental rights terminated shortly thereafter. He didn’t fight it and my baby is better off this way. I’d never force my daughter on a man who wants nothing to do with her.”
“I give you a lot of credit.” It pained him whenever he heard a man had relinquished his paternal rights to a child. Dylan had wanted kids and a family more than anything. He’d lived that dream, and then he lost it after he’d partnered with Jax on Silver Bells. His ex-wife had warned him she wouldn’t like living on a ranch. Stubbornly, he thought he’d change her mind. Lauren had tried her best, but living in an outdated log cabin away from her family and friends proved to be too much. She packed up his two step-kids and moved back to Bozeman. No way would he raise another man’s child again. It was too heartbreaking when it didn’t work out.
Lauren and the kids leaving, coupled wit
h his father’s death a few months later, damn near broke him. From then on, he devoted every waking hour to the ranch. He and Jax had updated what they could afford to, and the Silver Bells did great until more guest ranches cropped up nearby. They couldn’t compete with the new.
“It’s all good,” she said.
Her robotic response told him otherwise, but he couldn’t allow that to matter. Dylan squatted next to her chair and rested a hand on her arm. He immediately regretted the close contact, even though her bulky sweater separated her skin from his palm. It was bad enough her almond-scented shampoo left him wanting to bury his face in the long silky strands. He found this vulnerable side of Emma endearing when he knew to avoid her. She was off-limits in far too many ways.
“I admire your strength and fortitude to see this deal come to fruition but, Emma, it won’t happen. I went along with my uncle because he owned the majority stake in the business. I didn’t have a choice then. There are a few options I’m mulling over, but selling to you isn’t on the list.” Dylan stood and walked to the windows overlooking the ranch. “This is a guest ranch where people come to be cowboys and cowgirls for a week or two. It will never be the luxurious five-star spa resort you want to turn it into.”
“Um, excuse me. Some help over here,” Emma called behind him.
He turned to find her struggling to stand and couldn’t help but laugh a little. She was cute when she was vulnerable. He closed the distance between them and offered both his hands. Their eyes met as he pulled her to her feet and inadvertently against his body.
“Sorry,” he mumbled before stepping back.
A tinge of pink flooded her cheeks as she smoothed her sweater. “Would you rather turn your employees out on the street?”
The woman didn’t miss a beat. “You and my uncle already have.” Dylan headed toward the front desk, sensing her close behind him. “Some already left to secure work somewhere else. When my uncle announced that the ranch would close its doors on January 1, many of our employees began searching for work elsewhere. Some found positions, while others planned on staying until the end. I’ve already told them Silver Bells isn’t closing, and I’ll do whatever I can to keep them employed here. We have families living on the ranch. Did my uncle tell you that? And some of my employees worked on my father’s ranch before his death. I’ve known many of these people my entire life.”
