The Rancher's Second Chance

by Victoria James

  Melanie’s eyes darted back and forth between them. “I don’t mean to be a nuisance.”

  “Not at all. Cole just mopes around on Saturday anyway,” Gage said smoothly, beating him to saying something even remotely pleasant. Cole held on to every choice curse he had for his friend and just clenched down on his back teeth.

  “Great, well I’ll just get my bags.”

  “I can get them for you, Mel,” Gage said walking toward the door.

  “Make yourself useful and saddle up Cinnamon,” Cole called out. Gage gave him a salute and walked out of the room.

  “Wait. No. No, I’m not riding a horse,” Melanie said.

  Cole sighed roughly. He had a feeling they were about to get a glimpse of high-maintenance Mel.

  …

  “Cinnamon is Cori’s horse. She won’t mind if you ride her.”

  Melanie’s eyes widened. No way in hell was she getting on a horse. “While I’m sure Cinnamon is very lovely, I think I’ll pass. Thank you.”

  Cole shoved his hands in his jeans looking disgruntled. Unfortunately for him she had no intention of changing her mind.

  “Pass?”

  “No horse. You know, come to think of it,” she said, trying to sound excited as she walked away from him to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The vast pasture and the sight of the mountains, massive and majestic in the distance, almost made her believe the lie she was about to tell. “I think I’d love to walk in the brisk, cold, country air. I really don’t get out much and a nice stroll on a day like today—”

  “First off, a day like today is freezing. Just standing on the front porch I can smell the snow coming. We may be in for a storm. And secondly I don’t have all day to wait the two hours it would take you to hike up there.”

  “It wouldn’t take two hours.”

  His brown eyes slowly moved from the tip of her head to her toes, which she curled instinctively.

  “For you it would, honey.”

  She crossed her arms. “Right, because of how short I am.”

  His cheeks went ruddy under that bronzed skin. Well good. His behavior had been insulting. All night she’d tossed and turned. While she’d always appreciated Cole’s attributes, last night in the hallway she’d been given a close-up. And he didn’t disappoint. For a second, when he’d looked her up and down she thought she saw the flicker of recognition, of mutual desire. And then he’d shut down that theory when he told her she was short. Well, of course next to him anyone would appear short. Sarah hadn’t. She’d been tall, elegant, and stunning. They had been a spectacular couple. Last night reaffirmed that Cole hadn’t gotten over losing Sarah. She needed to remind herself of that so she didn’t make a fool of herself.

  “Look, you’re not—” He waved his hand at her, obviously struggling.

  She raised her eyebrows and gave him a pointed look. “Vertically challenged?”

  He nodded tersely. “Cinnamon will be the perfect horse for you. Let’s go before it starts to snow.”

  That again. She wasn’t getting on a damn horse. “You know what? It’s actually not even necessary for me to go up there, really. Why don’t you go up there yourself with your little BFF.”

  His head looked as though it swelled, like a balloon ready to burst. “Who the hell is my little BFF?”

  She waved her arm. “Gage.”

  He glared at her. “He’s not little and he’s not my BFF.”

  “Fine, fine. But you two could totally—”

  “No. We’re not party planners.”

  “Fine, fine.” Melanie started walking toward the front door. She needed to make her point. “I need to get out to the chapel, so I’ll just ask Gage to help me find the place. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a leisurely stroll up there.”

  Cole fell into step beside her. “Gage isn’t a personal escort. No one has time to traipse around all day party planning.” He held out her coat and she took it from his hands. Last thing she needed was him being all gentlemanly and placing it on her shoulders. He jammed his arms through the sleeves of a dark brown Sherpa lined jacket and then slapped his dark brown Stetson on his head. Melanie was spared the humiliation of being caught ogling him when Mrs. Harris’s heavy footsteps approached.

  She was struggling with a large picnic basket. Melanie heard Cole mumbling something beside her. “Wait, wait! Gage tells me you’re going up to the chapel. Now that could take a while, so I packed you a lovely lunch.”

  Cole’s jaw clenched. “We’re not going on a picnic.”

  Melanie glanced back and forth between him and the housekeeper, sensing an undercurrent of something.

  “Of course not, but that was the only thing I could find to pack your meal,” Mrs. Harris said, clasping her hands together. She gave him a bright smile and placed the basket in front of Cole’s feet. She was unphased by Cole’s bluster.

  The thought of having lunch with her was clearly not appealing to him, and she didn’t want it to look like she was keen on the idea either. Melanie cleared her throat. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Harris. I’m sure I’ll be long gone by lunch time.”

  “No need to rush on Cole’s account. He needs some downtime.”

  Cole muttered a curse that unfortunately was a little too loud.

  Mrs. Harris gasped. “Cole William Forrester, you cannot swear in front of a lady.”

  Cole closed his eyes and Melanie tried to hide her smile. Mrs. Harris stood her ground and waited for him to respond. “Thank you for the lunch, but I can’t be carrying a picnic basket around all day. We can eat when we get back,” he said, flipping open the lid to peer inside. He snapped it shut and then glared at Mrs. Harris. Melanie could have sworn she spotted candles and a bottle of wine inside the basket.

  Mrs. Harris squeezed her lips together and Melanie was pretty sure she was trying to hold back some choice words. “All right then. Melanie you’ll be staying for lunch when you return. I can’t have our dear, wonderful friend starve,” she said with a pat on her shoulder.

  “No chance of that, Mrs. Harris,” Melanie said with a laugh.

  Mrs. Harris leaned closer and caressed her cheek. Melanie tried to keep smiling, despite the odd show of affection. “Melanie, you’re just lovely. Just perfect, my dear,” she whispered.

  Cole cleared his throat loudly and Mrs. Harris startled, taking a step back. She smiled, eyes darting back and forth between them. “Well, best be getting on out there before it snows. Cole, you take care of our dear girl.”

  Cole was muttering something and looking down at his feet as he held open the door. Melanie shot Mrs. Harris a quick smile before walking outside.

  They stepped out onto the porch and immediately Melanie buttoned her top button. Freezing cold was putting it mildly. The air was heavy with dampness that would for sure seep into her bones within minutes.

  “Melanie, it’s way too cold out here for a walk, and I swear that skyline is looking like heavy snow is coming.”

  He was right. Completely. But there was no way she could get on a horse and she couldn’t tell him that. She just had to pretend to be an overly stubborn, high-maintenance, control freak. “It is cold, but I’m not riding up there,” she said looking him firmly in the eye. Her eyes went to his smooth jaw, watching as it clenched and unclenched.

  “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. I’ll meet you at the barn,” he said dismissing her and walking down the steps. Melanie’s heart began to hammer. She couldn’t go on a horse. She quickly picked up her bags and followed him down the steps in the direction of the barn.

  “Cole!” she yelled, stopping, placing her bags on the ground and her hands on her hips. She used her most forceful voice and tried to scowl like he did. He slowed his pace, stood motionless for a moment, and then slowly turned around to look at her. He walked toward her, one powerful leg in front of the other and stopped close enough that she had to lean back to look into his eyes.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m not riding a horse.” She looked
him square in the eye. Then she narrowed her eyes slightly, trying to look more sinister.

  He closed his eyes briefly. “We have no choice. We’ll never get up to the chapel, especially in those boots you’re wearing,” he said with a scowl at her favorite boots.

  She lifted her foot, angling it from side to side as she looked at her boots. “There is nothing wrong with these boots. They are riding boots.”

  He pointed to her feet. “Those are not riding boots.”

  “Well, they are. I mean, they’re specifically designed to go with skinny jeans and they are called riding—”

  “I don’t have time to stand here discussing fashion with you.”

  “I agree. Let’s start walking. I can make it up to that chapel in no time. I’m in great shape. Or maybe you’re just afraid you won’t be able to keep up with me,” she said with a nod, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Gimme your hand,” he said flatly. She looked at his large, gloved hand which was stretched out between them. Obviously it was not a romantic gesture, so her accelerated heartbeat was absurd.

  Melanie’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “You’re getting on a horse.”

  She stamped her foot on the hard ground. “No.”

  “Yes. The trails start out easy through the pasture, but then it’s steep once we get close to the mountains. This won’t even compare to incline nine on your treadmill, sweetheart.”

  Sweetheart. He shouldn’t be allowed to casually drawl out endearments. All of them should be stricken from his vocabulary. Luckily, the condescending assumption preceding said endearment lessened its impact. Incline nine on the treadmill. Incline nine would mean she could actually afford a gym membership. Of course he assumed she had one, because she was the spoiled rich girl. He grabbed onto her hand and she jerked it free from his grasp, shocked by the tremor that whipped through her body.

  “There is no way in hell I’m getting on a horse. None,” she said firmly.

  She wasn’t about to elaborate and say that she was deathly afraid of sitting on a horse or that even standing so close to a horse would make sweat break out all over her body. She fidgeted with her gloves because she could feel his intense gaze on her. She wasn’t about to reveal any more to him.

  “Fine, don’t get on the horse,” he said softly and something had changed in his expression. That anger and impatience he’d been huffing and puffing had evaporated, and now he was looking at her strangely. He probably thought she was nuts. Or a wimp. She wasn’t sure what was worse.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Fine,” she said, pausing to pick up her bag and purse. He paused, frowning at her bags.

  “You, uh, need help?”

  She shook her head and lifted her chin.

  “Don’t say I didn’t ask, especially when we’re climbing and you’re huffing and puffing.”Melanie looked away so he wouldn’t see her grin. “I hike all the time,” she said lying, picking up her bags filled with all her decorating supplies.

  “Right. Well, we need to hurry up so we can get back before lunch, so let’s get moving.”

  She realized he wasn’t going to wait for her so she ran off after him.

  Chapter Four

  Melanie knew she was in trouble when she practically had to maintain a slow jog just to keep up with Cole. Those long legs of his and towering height that she thought were so appealing were now downright irritating. The lanterns in her messenger bag were clanging, and she was cursing her stupid boot choice. They were comfortable, but now that they were about fifteen minutes into the hike, her feet were beginning to ache, but there was no way in hell she’d utter even the tiniest complaint. She focused instead on keeping up with Cole and the scenery around her. The towering pines loomed in the distance and the entire mountains seemed filled with green against the striking white of the snow.

  “This is going to be gorgeous for the guests, don’t you think?”

  His broad shoulders rolled up and down. She couldn’t see his expression since she was walking behind him, but she’d wager it was a slight scowl. She didn’t really care; it was a brilliant idea for the guests to be transported from the ranch house to the chapel in a horse-drawn sleigh. She had even coordinated pink wool blankets for each sled. She smiled, thinking of Cole bundled up in a pink blanket. He’d probably throw it overboard.

  Even though Cori’s wedding was going to be very small and intimate, no expenses were being spared, and Melanie was going to see that no detail was overlooked. When she’d opened her business she thought working with an upscale market would come easily to her, considering her background, and it had in many ways. She knew what the brides wanted. She knew what the parents wanted. She knew that the wedding was more than an exchange of vows and the beginning of a new life for the couple. It was also a statement of the family’s social status and wealth. While this was easy for her to understand, she also found it unfulfilling. It was growing more and more tiresome. So an intimate wedding like Cori’s was something much more satisfying and was an escape from her typical weddings.

  “So your sister said this chapel has been on the family property for over a century,” Melanie called out, trying to stay in step with Cole. They had been walking for almost half an hour without a word.

  “Yup,” he said his eyes straight ahead.

  Melanie readjusted her bags while maintaining his pace. “And Mrs. Harris said that the cleaning lady came up and had the place thoroughly cleaned?”

  “That’s what I hear.”

  “Great. So it’s just the decorating that needs to be done on the day of,” she said more to herself than to Cole. “How much longer do you think it will take us to get there?”

  “Maybe an hour.”

  She stifled her groan of disbelief. “An hour?”

  “Could’ve been a hell of a lot less if you’d gotten on the horse,” he said over his shoulder.

  True. She wasn’t about to admit that this had been a bad idea. “Well, I think this is a great way to spend the morning I’ve never been up here before. What kind of pines are those?”

  “Ponderosa.”

  “Oh, lovely,” she said, inhaling the clean, cool winter air. “I can actually smell the trees, the pine, mixed with the mountain air. It’s amazing. Better than any pine-scented Christmas candle, don’t you think?” She adjusted the bags again when the incline sharply increased. Her shoulders were aching, her feet were like giant blocks of ice, and her hands were almost numb, but she had to keep up with him.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?” He didn’t even bother turning his head anymore.

  “About the smell. The pine-scented candles.”

  “I don’t buy scented candles. I don’t buy candles, period.”

  A part of her wanted to laugh at the mental picture of Cole buying scented candles. It was kind of funny. So were his reactions. At least he was speaking.

  “Well, you should consider it,” she called out, keeping pace. “They are very relaxing. You know after a long day ranching, you could light some scented candles and have a nice, long bubble—”

  This time he did turn around. And stop. She swallowed the laugh that was threatening to overflow from her throat as she looked into his glittering brown eyes.

  “I don’t take bubble baths. You’re going to have to cut some of this chitchat or we’re never going to get to the chapel and then back home before the snow.”

  She gave her best, most contrite nod. He stared at her a moment, said something under his breath, and then started walking again. After what she assumed was an acceptable amount of time, she decided to speak again. She couldn’t stand silence. Never could. “And who built the chapel?”

  She wasn’t sure if she heard him sigh, or if it was the wind. “Our great-grandfather.”

  “And they were married there?”

  “Yup.”

  She knew Cole and Sarah had been married at Sarah’s family’s church in Passion Creek, not the chapel. In fact, Cori�
�s wedding would be the first since their parents. Their great-grandfather had built it when his wife died. Family rumor had it that he never got over the loss of his wife and built it as a tribute for her. They were both buried there. Melanie thought it was a beautiful story and said a lot about the kind of people they were. “I can’t wait to see it. I’ve been dying to come up here.”

  Silence. Melanie had no choice but to be quiet now; the wind had picked up and her ears were throbbing in rhythm with her footsteps.

  They trudged on until finally a small white chapel appeared in the distance. It stood out, surrounded by pines and a clearing of pasture. It was breathtaking. Small, with a peaked roof, it was rustic and charming. It would be perfect for Cori’s wedding. The guests would be in for a real treat, especially arriving in a horse-drawn sleigh. Just perfect.

  “This is stunning,” Melanie said as she walked up the wide, wooden steps. Cole was already unlocking the door. A moment later he swung it open. The inside of the chapel was sparkling clean, the smell of lemon and pine greeting them as they entered. Daylight filtered through the tall windows, providing just enough light that Melanie could get a sense of the space. She rested her bags on the ground and walked toward the altar, the heels of her boots echoing on the worn floor.

  There were only three pews on either side, but that would be fine since the wedding would be small. She traced her finger over the smooth edges of the polished pews. She took in the altar, which was basically a large, dark pine table. She was planning on covering the table with a crisp white linen cloth. The flower arrangements were white roses with sprigs of evergreen placed in silver buckets. She would have three on the table and then three in front, along with a larger, taller bucket at each pew.

  Her friend Piper was providing silvered seashell tea-light holders; Melanie was planning on scattering a few of them along the altar amidst the three silver candelabra as well as at the reception. She took a deep breath and turned around to face the chapel from the view at the altar. It would no doubt be the smallest wedding she planned this year, but the most stunning. She glanced over at the window to where Cole was standing. The windows would each have a wreath made out of white roses and a pink satin bow at the bottom of each one.