The Cowboy's Christmas Bride

by Patricia Johns

  “What?” he asked.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  She chuckled. Twenty-two wasn’t exactly grizzled. She was just about thirty, but she could sympathize. She remembered feeling awfully grown up at twenty-two herself. She’d already ended a relationship to an abusive alcoholic.

  “You’re still pretty young for those old-fashioned ideals,” she retorted. She still had the urge to ruffle his hair...what could she say?

  Harley didn’t answer and he looked away. His jean jacket was pushed up his forearms to reveal what looked like a tattoo. It was crudely drawn, though, in the shape of a Celtic cross. Dakota tilted her head to the side to get a better look.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  Harley pulled his sleeve down, shielding his arm from view.

  “Life experience,” he replied dryly.

  There was more to his story and she was willing to bet it was a whole lot more interesting than any of them had been giving him credit for. But he deserved a warning.

  “Elliot’s tougher than you might think,” Dakota said quietly. “Don’t go picking fights with him out here. We’re miles from civilization and I’d hate to tempt his baser instincts.”

  “Noted,” Harley said quietly.

  Harley’s gaze flickered in Elliot’s direction and he nodded. At least he’d heard her warning, and she could only hope he’d take it.

  Dakota glanced in Andy’s direction and caught him watching her. How long had he been doing that? He had a plate in his hand now and he was chewing, his expression thoughtful. When she noticed him, he gave her a slight nod in acknowledgment and turned his attention to his food.

  Andy seemed different out here, too. He looked more like the rancher, the boss, and less like the prodigal son. There was something about the expanse of grassy plains—the jagged drops and narrow crevices—and the rugged mountains that soared above them, closer now than ever. This cocktail of rugged wildness brought men and women down to their most elemental selves.

  Stock markets and numbers in a bank account meant nothing out there, but a man’s character meant a lot. Leadership and survival was based on an internal strength, not an external counter, and the farther they got from civilization, the clearer that difference became. There were some people she’d trust with her life out in the wilderness and others she’d never cross town lines with. And Andy...

  His green eyes were fixed on her again and she met his gaze evenly. She didn’t know exactly where he landed in her estimation of men and their character at this very moment, but he was standing stronger than she’d ever imagined he would.

  “Come get more, everyone!” Lydia called from the table. “Eat it before it’s cold!”

  Dakota rose. She’d make good on that offer—this was her chance to eat before the real work started. A smart woman always took a second helping.

  * * *

  LATER THAT EVENING Andy sat beside the low-burning fire, orange coals glowing against the dark ground. Of the four tents pitched on the far side of the fire, one glowed from the light of a flashlight. Apparently, Harley was reading. The horses munched hay, the sound peaceful and soothing. Andy was taking the first watch and Bob would take the second. He could hear his uncle’s snores already from the back of the van where he and Aunt Lydia were sleeping. They were far enough out that wolves and coyotes could be an issue if they didn’t have a lookout.

  Andy grabbed a log and tossed it onto the fire. The coals erupted in a shower of sparks then the dry bark caught the flame with a crackle.

  Andy wasn’t the last one awake. Dakota stood by Barney, giving him one last brush before bed, but Andy had a feeling she’d been putting off going to bed until the men were out of the way. She could hold her own, but these ranch hands weren’t her family’s employees, which would change the balance of power there. She was just another drover on this drive, albeit a prettier version than the others. Her hair hung long and loose down her back, the milky white of her hands vivid in the pale moonlight.

  She’s beautiful.

  He’d always thought she was gorgeous, but she’d been the one woman solidly out of his league. Dakota wasn’t just “a girl,” she was smart, opinionated and way better than any of them deserved. When she’d turned him down for Dwight, it had stung—more than stung. But then he’d met Mackenzie and Mack had actually returned his feelings. That had been the most passionate summer of his youth, but he still hadn’t been content. Maybe he’d have done the same thing to Dakota back then if she’d accepted him. He hadn’t exactly been mature and he’d had a mighty high opinion of his own masculinity.

  Dakota finished with the horse and turned, freezing for a moment when she saw him watching her. He inwardly winced. He’d made her uncomfortable—that hadn’t been the plan. He looked back at the log that had started to burn in earnest and he could hear the crunch of her boots as she came closer. She sank into the chair next to him.

  “You’re on watch?” she asked quietly.

  “The first one,” he said. “You going to bed now?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet.”

  He found himself pleased to hear that. He’d assumed that she’d turn in and he’d be left with his thoughts, but a few minutes’ worth of company wasn’t unwelcome.

  Harley’s flashlight went out and the camp was silent and dim except for the crackle of the fire.

  “You’re doing better than I thought,” she said, shooting him a wry smile.

  “You expected me to crash and burn so soon?” Andy chuckled softly. “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “I didn’t say I was disappointed,” she replied. “You did well with Harley and Elliot. That could have gotten ugly.”

  Andy leaned forward, holding his hands out to the fire. “It might get ugly yet. They won’t talk, so whatever caused it is still simmering.”

  “Harley did.”

  Andy shot her a look of surprise. Harley had opened up? This was information he needed but he didn’t want to chance being overheard. He stood and nodded in the direction of the edge of the camp where moonlight illuminated the rough, prairie grass. Dakota rose and they made their way from the trees and tents to where the open countryside spilled out before them, bathed in the silvery wash of moonlight.

  A few black clouds scudded across the star-studded sky, leaving faint shadows on the land beneath. A coyote trotted silently across the grassland, a fresh catch in its mouth.

  “So what’s the deal?” Andy asked quietly.

  “Elliot is involved with Harley’s sister,” she said. “Apparently she’s pregnant and wanted to get married. Elliot didn’t want to. I’m not sure what happened, exactly, but Harley is under the impression that his sister could do better and he came to Montana to try and bring her back home.”

  Andy rolled this new information over in his head. So Elliot was about to be a father... He and Chet both. Andy found himself mildly envious. It was an intimidating amount of responsibility to have a family to support, but it was the kind of challenge that Andy had always known he wanted one day. He couldn’t help feeling a small pang of envy.

  “Elliot said something earlier,” Andy said after a moment. “Something about Harley having been in prison.”

  “He didn’t mention that,” she said. “But he did have a tattoo on his arm that looked...amateurish.”

  A prison tattoo? The thought still didn’t sit right with him. But then, maybe that New Testament in his pocket was more about new starts than it was about his past. His decision to take the kid on may have been a hasty one. Still, Andy was pretty good with judging character, and Harley hadn’t seemed elusive.

  “He doesn’t seem like the type,” Andy said after a moment.

  A frigid wind picked up and Dakota shivered.

  “Come here,” Andy said.

/>   She looked at him distrustfully.

  Andy rolled his eyes and took her by the shoulders, positioning her closer to him. He angled his body so that he blocked the worst of it, but he liked having her this near to him. He dropped his hands and they stood there, barely inches apart. He was her boss—nothing more.

  Dakota’s hair whipped up in the wind and she pulled it back, tilting her chin up as she did to meet his gaze. She only seemed to realize then how close they stood together and she stepped back, a cautious look on her face.

  “I’m not trying anything,” he said, his voice low. “It’s cold. That’s all.”

  He cared what she thought of him, because while he might not be her favorite man, her dislike of him was at least honest. If she was going to resent him, it might as well be for the truth, not something false. And he wasn’t making a move on her. Tempted? Yes, but controlled. If he ever did make a move, she’d be absolutely clear about his intentions.

  “I know.” She didn’t sound as convinced as he’d have liked.

  “You still think I’m a womanizer, do you?” he asked with a low laugh. “It’s not true, you know.”

  “I knew you, Andy.” She shook her head. “Dwight used to tell me stories about you.”

  Dwight Petersen was the reason Andy had backed off and never asked Dakota out again. Friends didn’t move in on each other’s girls. But Dwight had changed over the years.

  He remembered one trip back home when Dakota had knocked a can of soda off the counter and it had exploded open, splattering the kitchen floor and bottom cabinets. While Andy’s first instinct had been to laugh at the way she’d jumped a foot in the air, Dwight had laid into her, calling her an idiot and growling about how she’d better clean it up. A few others had grabbed towels and lent a hand while Andy had pulled his buddy aside and told him straight that he’d better get it together because Dakota wouldn’t put up with that garbage for long.

  He’d been right. In a matter of weeks she’d broken off their engagement, and Andy had been relieved. Dakota deserved better than a man who didn’t know a good woman when he had one. Thinking about Dwight’s rage still left Andy uneasy, years later, and it made him wonder what, exactly, Dwight had told her about him.

  “Back then, I might’ve been a bit of a womanizer, but that was then. A lot of things changed—including Dwight, might I add.”

  Dakota smiled wanly. “You’re telling me that while Dwight turned into a drunk, you improved?”

  He laughed softly. “I grew up, Dakota. We all do it eventually...except for Dwight, apparently. My last serious relationship lasted four years, and I almost married her. I’ve been single for the three years since. I don’t think you can exactly call me a rake. Not anymore, at least. There’s got to be a statute of limitations on that.”

  Surprise registered in those brown eyes and he felt a surge of satisfaction. At least he’d be able to blow apart one of her preconceptions.

  “I’d heard you were engaged,” she said.

  “See?” He shot her a grin. “I’m not half as bad as you think.”

  Ida had been a wonderful woman. He could have been happy married to her, but there was something missing from their relationship, something he’d been looking for and never quite found. His brother had managed to find it with Mackenzie, but it was one of those intangible qualities that made all the difference in a relationship.

  “You still managed to garner quite the reputation, you know,” she noted.

  “And you always managed to see right through me,” he retorted. “You never liked me, Dakota. You didn’t hide your feelings too well.”

  She frowned at that, cast him a sidelong look and then turned her attention to the rolling countryside.

  “I didn’t hate you.”

  “Didn’t say hate,” he said. “But you didn’t much like me, either.”

  She shrugged in acceptance of that and he smiled at the irony. He’d never bonded with a woman before over her general dislike of him, but there was a first for everything.

  “The thing is...you never fell for my act.”

  “So you admit it was an act,” she shot back.

  “Sure.” He shrugged. “Every guy has an act.” What man wanted to advertise the things that hurt?

  “Is this an act now?” She looked up at him, her clear gaze meeting his, and he dropped the urge to joke or flirt. She was serious and he sensed that she needed an honest answer from him. If they were going to work together, she needed to trust him.

  “I’ve got nothing left to fake,” he said quietly. “I’m the least popular guy in town, trying to hold things together for my brother. I’m just trying to get the job done. People will think what they think. Don’t worry. I know where I stand with you.”

  “Which is where?” she asked, a small smile on her lips.

  “Halfway at civil.”

  Color rose in her cheeks and she looked away again. “I should get to bed, Andy. It’ll be a long day tomorrow.”

  “You should.” He’d known she wouldn’t stay out with him long, but it had been nice all the same. There was something about being alone with Dakota under the big Montana sky that woke a part of him that had been dormant for too long...a part that wanted to connect, talk, share. It was a dangerous temptation and parting ways was probably the wisest choice right now. This was temporary and he had no intention of complicating matters.

  She took a few steps toward the tents then turned back, those dark eyes glittering in the moonlight. “I don’t want to be friends, Andy.”

  “I know.” He shot her a grin. “We aren’t. We tolerate each other at best. Like always.”

  She laughed softly and he felt a surge of satisfaction at having made her laugh in spite of it all. She turned away again, heading toward her tent, and he returned his gaze to the rolling countryside.

  The land spread out before him in a comforting expanse of nothing. The horizon, dark and distant, still tugged at him as it always had.

  Dakota might have never liked him much, but he’d always grudgingly liked her. She was strong, smart and capable, and perhaps the proof of those qualities was in her instinctual distrust of him. While the other girls thought they might be the one to hook him, she’d never been inclined to try.

  And now he was the one who’d ruined her family’s land. She still wouldn’t be inclined and somehow that made him like her all the more. She was the one woman he could trust to be completely honest with him. And perhaps she was the only woman who wanted absolutely nothing from him.

  She didn’t want to be friends. And neither did he. He wasn’t a lukewarm kind of guy.

  Chapter Five

  The next day the tents, bedding and food were loaded onto the pack horses and the team set out amid the early morning mist, climbing steadily up the foothills. The land was rockier and craggier here, the scrub that erupted from gullies and lined streams now dry and scratching. Lydia and Bob had headed in the other direction. They’d be back in two days, but with the Grangers also left their last contact with civilization for the next couple of days. Out this far, their cell phones didn’t even work.

  Dakota settled into the rhythm in her saddle, but her mind was sifting through more than the upcoming work of rounding up the cattle. She was thinking about her conversation with Andy in the moonlight. She’d been completely honest when she’d told him she didn’t want to be friends. She had a lot of reasons to resent him, but standing out there miles away from home and the pressures awaiting her there, she’d felt something unexpected...she’d liked him.

  Attraction was something Dakota could deal with. Attraction was nothing more than a biochemical reaction, but liking someone went deeper. And, yes, Andy was definitely attractive. He had those Granger genes, after all—the wide shoulders, smoldering eyes and perfect swagger in his boots. That wasn’t extra
ordinary, though. There were any number of good-looking cowboys; calendar companies made a fortune off them. But liking him...

  She’d always sworn she’d never be pulled in by empty flattery and she knew Andy from their childhood onward, so she was supposed to know better than to fall for his charms. Andy had been a teenager full of flash with no substance. Then he’d matured into a grown man who’d sold them all out to the highest bidder. So standing with him in the moonlight, listening to him tell her that he wasn’t the cad she took him for...

  For a moment she’d thought he was making a move on her. She would have known how to deal with that. But his respectful reserve? Before this cattle drive, she’d known exactly what to think of Andy and exactly where to file him. Now she wasn’t as sure, and she had a feeling that would irritate her family to no end. For them, Andy was the villain, the scoundrel who’d ruined their livelihood. They didn’t want to see any other side of him, and she didn’t blame them. She didn’t particularly want to see this side of him, either.

  The team continued their ride westward, the rugged mountains growing ever closer as the air grew crisper. There was something about those looming peaks that made her feel smaller than ever in the countryside. Nature was bigger than the pride of human beings. Birch and aspens were more common now and the leaves were blazing in oranges and yellows. It was the kind of exuberant display that made her heart soar, if it weren’t for other things weighing it back down.

  A few deer watched them warily from the tree line and an elk or two could be spotted out in the middle of the plains, antlers raised in proud display. Heads would lower to the ground to graze then shoot back up at the sound of hooves echoed against stone.

  They splashed across several shallow streams, the water babbling along smooth rocks, allowing the horses a chance to stop and drink. And when they did, she’d catch Andy looking at her. He never came close, but he still watched her with a guarded look on his face. Then Barney would raise his head, water dripping from his muzzle, and plod onward, hooves hitting rocks with a clatter as a cold wind whisked through her hair. She shivered. Her fingers were cold now and the tip of her nose. She rubbed her hands against her thighs to warm them.