A Cowboy's Christmas Proposal

by Cathy McDavid

  “Bridget, Grandma and I have an agreement,” she finally said. “Big decisions are put to a vote.”

  “Your sister and grandmother voted in favor of keeping me?”

  “Bridget did. I required convincing.”

  “And your grandmother?”

  “We agreed not to tell her. Yet.” Molly met his gaze. “And, honestly, I haven’t been able to locate a replacement for you that we can easily afford. I won’t risk having to cancel our upcoming weddings because we’re short one officiant.”

  “So, not firing me is the lesser of two evils.” He smiled.

  She couldn’t return it. Not yet. “Basically, yes. And to be clear, we’re granting you a temporary stay. The situation must improve.”

  “You’re something else, Molly O’Malley.”

  She drew back, unsure if Owen was teasing or not. “I have to do what’s best for the ranch and my family. Grandma has a substantial amount of money invested.” Most of which she’d set aside after selling the inn. “I would hate for her to lose it.”

  “Trust me, I meant that in a good way. You don’t sugarcoat things and you let me know exactly where I stand. Which is, apparently, on very thin ice.”

  “Can I ask a personal question?”

  “Fire away. Wait, wrong word.”

  Another time, Molly would have laughed at his joke. “Is coming to Sweetheart Ranch for a month really the best way for you and your children to reconnect? By your own admission, they’re upset at being away from home and their mother. They’re not sleeping well and they’re cranky. You leaving them with a babysitter in order to work, albeit part-time, is only making their adjustment to change all the harder.”

  “That’s a fair question and one I’ve been considering these past few hours.”

  “Maybe you can keep considering it over the next few days. We don’t have another wedding until Thursday evening. It’s a small service, and everyone’s leaving right afterward for the Talking Stick Resort. In the meantime, I’ll continue reaching out to my contacts for a replacement.”

  “That’s a good plan.”

  “Glad you agree.”

  “Except I’d rather spend my time becoming a better officiator and settling my kids into our new routine so they quit acting up.”

  He reached for Molly’s hand. While not an intimate gesture per se, it was certainly more intentional than the casual brush to her knee when they were sitting on the bench.

  Molly delicately disengaged her fingers. “Owen...”

  “I want this to work out. For a lot of reasons, most of them selfish, I admit it. I’ve neglected my personal life for years now. As a result, my marriage crumpled and my ex-wife divorced me after finding another man who paid her more attention than I did.”

  “That had to hurt.”

  “Not as much as you might think, which speaks volumes to the state of our relationship before she cheated on me. There was a reason I willingly traveled twenty out of every thirty days. I disliked being home and she disliked having me there.”

  “Why didn’t you stop traveling after the divorce?” Molly asked.

  “I couldn’t. Not if I wanted to keep my job and keep receiving those hefty quarterly bonuses. I figured the next best thing to having me around was having a good provider. My kids might not see much of me, but they would lack for nothing. I realized the error of my thinking when I arrived to pick up the kids for a visit after a two-month absence. Willa shied away from me and went running to her mom’s boyfriend. Cody and Marisa couldn’t have cared less that I was there.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  The exterior light by the front door provided enough illumination for Molly to recognize the emotions in his eyes as regret and sorrow, and she was glad she’d decided to give him a second chance. “What did you do?”

  “Quit my job at Waverly the next day. No other man is going to take my place in my kids’ lives. I don’t care how decent he is or how well he treats them. I’m their father. Which is why this month at Sweetheart Ranch is so important to me. I’ll do whatever is required to make it work out.”

  “Don’t take this wrong, but you could have bonded with your children at home and had more time with them, in fact.”

  “You’re right. But Uncle Homer asked me to cover for him. He’s been good to me and my family in the past, Helping us though some rough times. I felt like I owed him.”

  Molly’s resistance waned, and she found herself warming to Owen. Again.

  What might have happened to her former engagements if she’d been as determined as him to make right what had gone wrong? Bridget had once accused Molly of being more in love with the idea of getting married than in love with the man she was marrying.

  “I just hope I’m not too late,” Owen said. “I have a history of ignoring the people close to me.”

  “Your kids adore you. I can see it even if you can’t.”

  “We just need to work on their separation anxiety. One incident of Marisa bursting in at an inappropriate time is all I can take.”

  “I know how she feels,” Molly admitted. “I went through a similar bout after my dad died, and I drove my mom nuts.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Much older than Marisa. Twelve. According to the school counselor, some form of separation anxiety is fairly common for children who’ve lost a parent. I suppose long absences aren’t that different from a death.”

  “How’d you get so smart?”

  “I’m not sure I am. If I was, I wouldn’t have a string of broken engagements and former jobs to my credit.”

  “Life’s a constant learning curve.”

  Molly snapped her mouth shut. She hadn’t intended to reveal so much about herself. The broken engagements he already knew about. But not the rest.

  “It’s getting late,” she said in an effort to cover her embarrassment, “and I have a big day tomorrow.”

  He opened the door and waited for her to enter first. As she went in search of her sister, Molly had the sneaking suspicion Owen’s temporary stay would soon become permanent.

  CHAPTER SIX

  MOLLY DROVE HER SUV behind the ranch house and along the dirt road to the horse stable, passing the cabins as she did. Tasha and Wayne’s teenage children had gone with them on their carriage ride through town that morning. Molly didn’t think she’d want anyone else along if she were on a romantic carriage ride with her new husband, but to each their own.

  At the morning’s continental breakfast, Wayne and Tasha’s family had discussed how to spend their afternoon. The adults voted for shopping at the specialty stores in Fountain Hills. The teenagers had pleaded to be dropped off at the laser tag arena.

  Wherever they wound up, they’d promised to return in time for the evening campfire. It would be the first one at Sweetheart Ranch with actual guests.

  Then again, if the wood delivery didn’t arrive soon, Molly would be making excuses to their guests rather than assembling the ingredients for s’mores. The delivery had been scheduled for the previous week, but the guy had called and said he’d be delayed. At the time, Molly had thought having no firewood would be their worst catastrophe. Little had she known.

  With luck, the remainder of Tasha and Wayne’s stay would go well, canceling out any residual negativity from Marisa’s interruption. So far, Molly hadn’t seen the video Tasha’s son had taken appearing anywhere online, but that could still happen.

  Because she needed to be available all afternoon for the internet repair technician, and get a start on the Christmas decorations, she’d opted to run her errands in the morning. After a stop at the feed store for grain and hoof ointment, she’d made a trip to her favorite antiques shop, where she purchased a silver frame for Grandma Em and Homer. She’d noticed it on a previous trip and thought it would make a lovely wedding
gift.

  Parking in front of the stables, Molly hopped out of the SUV and opened the rear door. She was instantly engulfed by the fragrant, earthy aroma of grain. A memory surfaced—her as a child digging her hands into the barrels and lifting handfuls of grain to her nose.

  Grandma Em was usually the one to feed and tend the horses on their part-time wrangler’s days off. In her absence, Molly and Bridget were sharing the task. Neither of them minded. Their grandparents had always kept a horse or two, and the sisters had spent their summers riding whenever they weren’t working at the inn in town.

  What Molly did mind was lugging fifty-pound sacks from the vehicle to the stables. One, she could handle. Two were manageable. Ten would exhaust her.

  She headed for the stables where a handcart leaned against the wall. At the entrance, the sound of now familiar voices drew her to a halt. Owen’s children were here, and they wouldn’t be alone.

  Molly automatically finger-combed her hair before giving herself a silent reprimand. What did it matter how she looked? She wasn’t trying to impress him.

  Inside the stables, she found Owen brushing Amos, though only his boots and the bottom halves of his legs were visible beneath the big gelding’s belly. The older of the two draft horses was tethered to a pole in front of the stalls. Cody and Marisa sat double on his back with Marisa in front. She was bent over and burying her face in the horse’s long blond mane while Cody squirmed and twisted and flung his feet in every direction.

  Amos paid them no attention whatsoever. Draft horses were notoriously gentle and these two Haflinger brothers were especially so, making them ideally suited for the O’Malleys’ purposes.

  Cody spotted her first. “Hi, Miss Molly. We’re riding.”

  “I see that.” They weren’t actually going anywhere, but that didn’t seem to spoil their fun. Molly couldn’t help smiling. “Where’s Willa?”

  Owen stepped out from behind Amos and flashed her a grin, the one that did funny little things to her insides. “Right here.”

  He turned and presented his back. Willa sat in a contraption that was part backpack and part baby seat, her legs dangling. She cranked her head sideways in order to see Molly.

  “Want down,” she demanded.

  “No can do, squirt.” He addressed Molly. “She was getting into some things best left alone.”

  “Like horse manure?”

  Owen grimaced. “I came close to hosing her down. This torture device is our compromise. I almost told her mother not to pack it. Now, I’m glad she did.”

  Like last evening on the veranda, there was no rancor or disdain in his voice when he mentioned his ex-wife. That was good. Children of parents who were at odds often suffered, and from what Owen had told Molly about his past, he and his ex-wife could easily have been at odds.

  “I’m sure I look pretty ridiculous,” he said and bent to brush Amos’s front legs.”

  Willa giggled at being tipped forward.

  “Not too ridiculous.” Secretly, Molly found him much more endearing and attractive than ridiculous.

  When he straightened, Willa extended her arm toward her siblings. “Want down, Daddy.”

  “What she really wants is to sit with Cody and Marisa.” Owen patted Amos’s thick, muscled neck. “I may put her up there for a minute or two when we’re done. You think Amos will be okay with that?”

  “It wouldn’t be his first time,” Molly said. “Nora’s had her grandchildren on both horses. Willa should be fine for a minute as long as you don’t let go of her.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “Where’s Big Jim, by the way?”

  “His wife’s sick with the flu. She called right when he was bringing Wayne and Tasha back from their carriage ride. Apparently, she was feeling dizzy and took a tumble in the laundry room. I told him to go on home and that I’d unharness and brush the horses.”

  Alarm coursed through Molly. “Is she all right?”

  “He said not to worry and that he’ll call you later.”

  “Okay.” She’d worry anyway. A tumble sounded serious. Glancing at the harness rack, she noted the various pieces were correctly hung on the right hooks. “Let me guess. You know how to harness horses.”

  Owen shrugged. “The basics.”

  “From your rodeo days?”

  He laughed, a rich, appealing sound. “My grandfather used to compete in pulling contests at state and county fairs. He took me along when I was young and let me help.”

  She’d heard of pulling contests and seen pictures. “Did he win?”

  “Had the best teams in Fort Scott, Kansas.”

  “Is that where you’re from?”

  “Originally. I moved to Arizona because the kids’ mother is from here.”

  And his children were the reason he stayed.

  “Do you miss your family?”

  “I visit them two or three times a year. One of the few perks of traveling for work. I saw them more often when I was rodeoing. The folks would come and watch me compete.”

  Supportive parents. He was fortunate. Molly had known that joy up until her father died.

  Owen returned the brush to its hook beside the shelf. “They’re coming for a visit next February. They haven’t seen Willa since she was born.”

  “That’ll be nice.”

  “I was hoping to bring them here to Sweetheart Ranch. I know my mom would love to see the place.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “She’s checked out your website.”

  “Really?”

  “She suggested to Dad they rent a cabin for the weekend.”

  “We’d be delighted to have them.” Molly realized with a start that she looked forward to meeting Owen’s parents, who were no doubt charming given they’d raised such a charming son. Going to the far wall where the handcart was stowed, she said, “I’d better unload the grain.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “You have the children to watch.” She steered the handcart ahead of her and toward the door.

  Owen wasn’t easily dissuaded. Before the first wheel bounced over the threshold, he’d lifted first Marisa and then Cody off Amos and deposited them on the ground, ignoring their objections.

  “Why?” Cody complained.

  “We’re helping Miss Molly.”

  “Why?” he repeated.

  “That’s the nice thing to do. Help people who need it.”

  Even with Willa strapped to his back and his two oldest trying their best to get in the way, Owen unloaded the ten bags of grain and wheeled them into the stables in half the time it would’ve taken Molly.

  Without her asking, he ripped open the last bag and dumped the contents into the grain barrel, filling it to the top.

  “Thanks, Owen,” she said when he’d secured the lid and the remaining bags were stowed neatly in the corner.

  “Any excuse to be around horses again. I’d be happy to help with feeding Amos and Moses and cleaning the stalls until your grandmother and Homer return.”

  “That’s not part of your job description.”

  “I don’t mind. It’d give me and the kids something else to keep us busy and out of trouble. I’m starting to run low on ideas.”

  She could use a hand, and he was more than qualified. “If you’re sure.”

  “Anything else you need, just give a holler.”

  “I don’t want to interfere with your job hunting or dad duties.”

  “You’re not.”

  He began unbuckling the toddler carrier and easing his arms through the straps. Next, he carefully lowered the device and Willa to the ground. Once the toddler was free, he settled her on Amos’s back. Rather than squealing with delight, she burst into tears.

  “Down, down. Want down.”

  Owen obliged her, chuckling in bewilderment. �
�That didn’t last long.”

  “Amos is tall,” Molly said. “And she’s awfully little. I’m sure she just got scared.”

  “Are these guys as good to ride as they are at pulling a carriage?” He patted Amos on the rump.

  “Depends on what you’re looking for.” Molly untied Amos and returned him to his stall next to his brother. “Haflingers are big and sturdy but not built for speed.”

  He let Willa go, and she scampered over to join her siblings who were attempting to scale the twin stacks of grain bags. They weren’t excited to have her horn in on their game and demanded she “Get down!”

  “Cody and Marisa.” Owen sent them a stern look. “What did we talk about earlier?”

  “Not leaving our toys on the floor?” Cody offered.

  “No, sharing. Now let your little sister play with you.”

  Marisa pouted. Cody reluctantly moved aside.

  Mission accomplished, Molly thought. “Good job, Dad.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “And making headway from what I can see.”

  “I’ve got a long way to go.” He locked Amos’s stall. “Mind if I take one of these guys for a spin sometime? Been a few months since I’ve been on the back of a horse.”

  “Not at all. I’ve ridden them on the easier trails up the mountain, and they do well enough.” Molly checked Moses’s stall door. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you taking the children, though. The horses are too big, and I’d worry about them falling. Our neighbor Powell Ranch has kid-friendly ponies to rent. And faster horses if you want more of a challenge.”

  “Less challenging is my style these days. I’ve had my fill of adrenaline rushes.”

  “And here I thought you were considering bull riding one weekend at the Poco Dinero.”

  “Considering is a far cry from attempting. And I’ve been out of the game a long time now.”

  Molly imagined Owen on the back of a wildly bucking bull and thought that would be something worth seeing.

  “Any chance you’d come with me?”

  She blinked in surprise. “To watch the bull riding?”

  He grinned. “I like that idea. But I was talking about Amos and Moses. Though, if you’re free for—”