The Rancher's Mistletoe Bride

by Jill Kemerer

  “Yeah, I’m wrapping up, too.” He gathered his notes and slipped the tape measure into his pocket.

  “All day I’ve been imagining this staircase.” She stood at the top with her hands up. “Okay, go back in time mentally. Picture me in a gown circa 1900. It’s a Christmas wedding, so I’m in long sleeves, and the dress is flowing with lace overlays. Sorry, but you’re going to have to be the groom in this scenario. So you’re in a dark suit. Very dapper. And the lanterns are glowing, it’s getting dark and snowflakes are falling outside the windows. The wedding supper is about to begin, and I’m all set to make my grand entrance.”

  “Wait, is this a wedding today that’s imitating 1900, or is it really 1900?” He couldn’t believe he was playing along with this. A month ago, he would have refused. But today...it felt right.

  “It’s 1900. Okay, someone’s playing the piano, and the wedding guests are lined at the bottom of the steps.” She tipped her chin up, then lifted an imaginary skirt. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, but he sure couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

  With one hand on the handrail, she glided down, pretending to hold a skirt. Even with the smudge on her cheek, he envisioned her as a bride back in the day. When she had about two steps to go until the bottom, his hands got a mind of their own. He caught her by the waist, swinging her to the floor.

  “My, my, you’re one strong cowboy.” She batted her eyelashes coyly, still in character.

  “Wouldn’t want the little lady to slip,” he said in a deliberately low voice, still holding her waist.

  “That’s very chivalrous of you.” Her eyes gleamed, challenging him. “What now, tiger?”

  “Well, it is a Christmas wedding, right?”

  Wide-eyed, she nodded.

  “Then I reckon there’d be mistletoe hanging above us.”

  “I reckon there would.”

  “And the ceremony is over.”

  “Oh, yes. Any self-respecting bride would have had the wedding in the church.” She twined her arms around his neck.

  “Then, sugar, the only logical conclusion would be this.” His voice grew husky, and he pressed his lips to hers. Warm, soft, tasted as sweet as the candy canes hanging from his Christmas tree. She kissed him back, and he held her tightly, wishing time would stand still. Wishing she could be his imaginary mistletoe bride forever.

  But nothing lasted forever, and he knew it all too well.

  He broke away, still holding her close, not wanting to let go of her, not wanting her to loosen her hold from his shoulders.

  She smiled up at him. “If I’d known you were going to kiss me like that, tiger, I would have married you sooner.”

  He laughed. Only Lexi could come up with the perfect thing to say in this situation. Maybe they could both pretend the kiss had been harmless, a little make-believe on a winter’s day.

  “If I’d known you tasted as sweet as your name, sugar, I wouldn’t have waited so long to kiss you.”

  The door clanged open, and Lexi jumped back. Clint turned, patting his pockets, pretending he’d lost something. “I think I left my pen in the other room.” And he fled to the back.

  This had to stop. Playing pretend wedding wasn’t smart. His heart was getting too tied up with Lexi. Without him, she’d be fine. But what about him? Life without her... He was beginning to think losing his land had been nothing compared to losing Lexi.

  If he never had her, he couldn’t lose her. One kiss was as far as it could go.

  But he knew he’d forever remember the taste of sugar and the closest thing to a wedding he’d ever have.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I hate to do this so close to Christmas, but I’m driving to Denver right after our meeting.” Lexi waved for Clint to take a seat in her office the next morning. Christmas was a week away, and the questions inside her were eating her alive. Buy the building in Sweet Dreams and stay? Or move back to Denver, back to reality and her company?

  She knew what she wanted to do. But what if Clint wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with her?

  “For good?” His blue eyes darkened as he frowned.

  “No, I’ll be back on Monday.” She forced a smile, but inside she was a mess. Staying here if he wasn’t interested was unthinkable. He’d been in her office for all of three seconds and already her heart was beating out of control. She’d thought about his kiss a gazillion times. Couldn’t stop herself from imagining a future here full-time. Horseback rides. Summer picnics. Snowmobiling in the winter. Showing him the mock-ups for the weddings she’d be planning. Running the ranch. Holding hands. Stealing a kiss or two.

  Maybe, just maybe, a wedding of her own.

  “Madeline Roth, the senator’s daughter I told you about, wants a meeting before hiring me, and I have some things to discuss with my assistant and vice president. The new year will be here before I know it, and I have decisions to make.”

  “I hope you trust me when I say I will always put the ranch’s needs first.” He looked so earnest, she wanted to round the desk and caress his cheek. Role playing yesterday had been such an exhilarating surprise. She’d had no idea he would play along so well...and so convincingly. But today he appeared to be as conflicted as she was.

  “I don’t question it, Clint.” She didn’t question his loyalty to the ranch, but what about his feelings toward her? She’d never planned her future around a man, and she’d be crazy to create one around someone who might not be interested in the same things she wanted.

  “Why aren’t you staying in Denver for Christmas?”

  “I don’t want to.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Didn’t he want her here? “In fact, I was hoping you’d come to church with me on Christmas Eve. You don’t have plans, do you?”

  “I’m taking care of the herd so the rest of the crew can celebrate with their families.”

  “The church service isn’t until seven at night. The chores will be done by then.”

  “Are you sure it won’t complicate things even more?”

  Comments like that were why she didn’t know what to do. His kiss yesterday had taken her to another place—one where she felt safe and cherished and, dare she say, loved. But if he only saw her as a complication, well, she’d be a fool to sell her company and pine for someone who didn’t care about her.

  “It’s church, Clint. A Christmas service.”

  “I’ll pick you up at six thirty.”

  “So I guess we should discuss the ranch. Anything new I need to know about?”

  “Yes, actually.” Frowning, he opened the file folder he always brought with him. “I heard back from the ranch in Montana I contacted about buying extra feed this winter. Turns out they could have sold to us. The price was right.”

  She leaned back, her hands on the armrests. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. The calves are sold.”

  “I should have pushed harder to get an answer.” His gaze bored into hers.

  “Didn’t you call them several times?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s only so much you can do. It’s over. No big deal. We have pregnant cows and enough food to get them through winter, and we sold the calves. We’re in good shape.”

  If Clint cared half as much for her as he did the ranch and Banjo, she’d be making an offer on the building downtown today. Why was this decision so difficult?

  He’d taken a pen out of his pocket and was jotting something on one of the papers. Watching his long fingers gracefully hold the pen and his forehead furrow in that serious way of his, she caught her breath.

  When had she fallen in love with him?

  “I know it might not be a possibility this winter, but I’m looking for used farm equipment so we can fill the hay barn next fall. I don’t want to be at the mercy of other ranches all t
he time.”

  He had no idea her heart was bursting with love even as it deflated from reality.

  She’d told herself she wouldn’t settle for ho-hum. And being around Clint was never dull. The breathless kisses he had down, but what about the other things she wanted—someone who loved her enough to make a grand gesture and who wanted marriage and kids?

  If breathless kisses were all she’d get from Clint, maybe she should move back to Denver.

  * * *

  He’d be spending Christmas Eve with Lexi. And he had no idea what to get her for Christmas. Did he buy her a gift an employee would give—something impersonal like a canister of cashews? Or did he follow his heart and buy her chocolates, roses, jewelry—things that shouted Lexi?

  Neither, you fool.

  Clint finished mucking Nugget’s stall and moved on to the one next to it. He was on cleanup duty, which suited him fine. Good, hard work might take his mind off the brown-haired, brown-eyed girl who burrowed into his thoughts night and day.

  When he’d said goodbye after their meeting, he’d wanted to yank her close to him and kiss her again.

  Those kinds of wants were coming at him more and more.

  Was this what love felt like? Love. He snorted. This wasn’t love. It was infatuation. A guy like him would fall for any girl who looked at him twice. It was proximity, loneliness...

  It felt like love.

  The clink of the pitchfork hitting glass stopped him. What in the world?

  He dug through the hay and found an empty pint bottle of whiskey. He ground his teeth together as he held up the offending bottle. Same as the ones he’d found in the old cabin.

  Whoever had been in the cabin had surely been here, too.

  He texted Logan to come to the barn.

  His gut told him Jake was to blame, but he didn’t have evidence, and in the past, he’d been accused of crimes he didn’t commit.

  Logan entered the stables.

  “Look what I found.” Clint held the bottle up.

  Logan looked taken aback, then his lips firmed into a thin line.

  “Any ideas who it might belong to?” Clint asked.

  “I’ve got an idea, but I don’t have proof.”

  “Name?”

  “Jake. Ryder’s been reliable.” Logan frowned. “He has been hanging out with Jake more, though. I don’t think it’s him, but to be fair... Well, you know how it is.”

  “Is Ryder here?”

  “Checked in at 6:00 a.m. He wanted extra money for Christmas—I think he’s got a girlfriend—so I told him to come in an hour before school this week and next. Hope that’s okay. I probably should have mentioned it to you yesterday.”

  “It’s fine. I would have done the same.”

  They stared at the bottle a minute, the nickering of horses the only sound.

  “I’m not sure how to handle this, Logan. I can’t tolerate drinking, but without any proof of who did this, my hands are tied.”

  Logan scratched the stubble on his chin. “I was thinking the same. Whoever left this is clearly drinking here. And stupid enough to leave the bottle around.”

  “I have caught Jake here when it wasn’t his shift. And he claimed he was mucking stalls. I didn’t buy it, but a phone call made me forget to come back and check the area.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll have to have a talk with him tomorrow morning. That’s his next shift, right?”

  “Yep.” Clint leaned against the stall frame. “Send him to my office when he arrives. I’ll show him the bottle and ask if it’s his.”

  “Want me to get Ryder in here? Ask him a few questions?”

  “No. Let’s wait to see what happens with Jake first.”

  Clint took the bottle back to his office and slipped it inside his file cabinet drawer next to the petty cash. Then he locked the cabinet and headed back out to the stables to finish cleaning. Letting the matter go didn’t sit well with him. He wanted to find out who dared drink in the stables. Boot him off the property. Drunks could be a danger to everyone on the ranch, including the animals, but most of all, inebriated men posed a threat to Lexi.

  For the first time since she’d left yesterday, he was glad she was in Denver. Safe from harm. He’d do whatever it took to keep her safe. He wished he could keep her safe forever.

  * * *

  “I’m concerned if I hire you, you won’t be available for my needs. I’m wary of a wedding planner not being in the same state.” Madeline Roth’s posture would put a debutante to shame. Wearing a pale gray pantsuit and lavender silk blouse, matching lavender heels and with her blond hair smoothed into an elegant chignon, she projected confidence and sophistication.

  Had the previous two hours of pitching wedding themes been for nothing? Lexi forced her smile to stay in place. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to plan Madeline’s wedding. “That’s a valid concern, but let me assure you I do what it takes to keep my clients happy. I have an office in Wyoming, and I’m in constant contact with my staff.”

  “Oh.” The word was loaded with negative implications. “Does this mean you’re not planning on returning to Denver?”

  Tough question. “I will know after the holidays.”

  “I’m interested in working with you if you decide to move back. I’m not comfortable hiring you if you’ll be splitting time between here and Wyoming. Carson and I will be out of the country until January 2. We won’t be making a decision until then. I’ll call you when we’re back.” Madeline stood, and Lexi walked her to the door.

  “I appreciate your honesty. I hope we’ll be working together soon.”

  As soon as Madeline left, Lexi dropped into her chair, propped her elbows on the desk and let her forehead fall into her hands. Madeline had been her final appointment of the day. Lexi had put a lot of thought and effort into the themes she’d pitched to Madeline, but now that they’d met, she couldn’t muster the same excitement as before.

  Devoting so much energy to demanding brides never used to bother her.

  But now?

  The sixty-hour workweeks before Daddy died came to mind. She was tired. She’d had no life of her own in years.

  Her thoughts switched to riding horses with Clint and sipping coffee with Amy. To her pretty office at the ranch and the ideas she’d been toying with to remodel the ranch house and the old department store in Sweet Dreams. Shawn Lesly had called her earlier and told her he’d talked to the listing agent. The owner loved the idea of a reception hall and was willing to negotiate on the price.

  She’d hoped coming back to Denver for the weekend would remind her what she’d be giving up, but so far, it had only made her want to return to Wyoming as soon as possible.

  Her gaze fell to the phone on her desk. She’d been sitting right here in July when Daddy had called. I’m thinking about going to Yellowstone next month. Want to join me? It’s been years since we hiked Mystic Falls Trail.

  He’d taken her to Yellowstone many times, and Mystic Falls was their favorite spot. She cringed, remembering her reply. I’d love to, Daddy, but I’ll have to wait until next summer. I’m booked for months.

  Booked for months.

  Some daughter.

  Her throat felt tight, scratchy, and today had been bad enough without adding tears. She took a drink of water from the bottle on her desk.

  Nothing was going according to plan.

  Oh, who was she kidding? She didn’t have a plan. She’d been living on a whim ever since the funeral. And it was time to get back on track.

  Today had been rough from the start. Jolene had called off with the flu, so Lexi had been stuck with hours of administrative duties. And while she’d heaved a sigh of relief that the offices were neat this time, the storage room was a mess. Each planner had shelves for their orders, but boxes had bee
n stacked on the floor, making it difficult to move around. And some of the shelves were empty. How hard was it to put a box on a shelf? Not much more difficult than setting it on the floor.

  She’d only seen one planner in the office all day, which wasn’t unusual if the others had weddings scheduled for the weekend, but Natalie didn’t have one on the books. Why wasn’t she here?

  And every time Lexi had walked past the front desk, her blood boiled. The flowers were still wrong. They were not blush-colored blooms. They were red roses. Red! Again. She’d trusted Natalie to handle the problem, but it hadn’t been dealt with.

  It had taken every ounce of her self-control not to throw them in the trash and order the blush-colored bouquets.

  “Lexi, you’re back.” Natalie Allen, a tall redhead in a black pencil skirt and fitted emerald blouse, entered the room. She took a seat opposite Lexi and placed her cell phone and planner on the desk.

  Lexi took a deep breath to calm her agitation. She checked the time. It was after six.

  While the cat’s away, the mice will play.

  “Why are there red roses on the front desk?” Lexi flattened her palms on the desk. “You assured me you would take care of fixing the order. This is the second time I’ve been here this month, and both times I’ve seen red roses. What is going on?”

  Natalie lifted her chin as her cheeks flushed. “The other designers and I thought red brought a more festive air to the office. It is Christmas.”

  Lexi’s fingers curled into her palms. Was she imagining the challenge in Natalie’s tone? And since when did all the designers change the rules? None of them had invested their money in this company, worked sixty-to eighty-hour weeks to build the best reputation possible. She straightened. “Every Christmas the florist adds silver branches and mint-colored greens for a more subdued holiday look. The color scheme is important for our brand.”

  “Maybe it’s time for a change.”

  Lexi blinked. She counted to three, trying to control her temper. “If a change were to be made, it would be my decision. These details matter to me. They’re important. And looking around, I see other things being neglected. You told me you would handle them.”