The Cowboy's Christmas Bride

“I didn’t send the horses out to pasture today,” Andy went on, saving her from finding an appropriate reply.

He led the way around the side of the newly painted barn toward the corral. As they stepped into its shadow, the December day felt distinctly colder. This winter would make up for lost time; there was no doubt about it.

Andy glanced over his shoulder and his green eyes met hers. “Thanks for this, by the way.”

Her pulse sped up at the directness of that look and the very fact that he was working his blasted Granger charm on her was irritating.

“This isn’t for you, Granger. It’s for Chet.”

She wasn’t falling for any of Andy’s charms, but she could certainly understand why some women did. He was tall, muscular, with rugged good looks and scruff on his face that suggested he’d missed a couple of days of shaving. But Andy also represented something that hit her a little closer to home—the kind of guy who could walk away without too much trouble. Her brother had fallen for the female version of Andy Granger in the form of Nina Harpe, and she wasn’t about to repeat Brody’s mistakes. She had a lot of reasons to be wary of Andy Granger.

The corral was attached to the back of the barn, bathed in midmorning sunlight. At this time of year the sunlight was watery, but the air was surprisingly warm—about four or five degrees above freezing. Beyond the corral was a dirt road that lead toward different enclosed pastures, rolling hills of rich, golden cinnamon grass glowing in late autumn splendor. And beyond the fields were the mountains, rising in jagged peaks, hemming them in like majestic guards.

Several horses perked up at the sight of them, ears twitching in interest. Andy reached into a white bucket that sat in the shade and pulled out a fistful of carrots. He rolled them over in his hands, rubbing off the last of the dirt, and headed for the fence. Two of the horses came right over when Andy walked up—a dun stallion named Romeo and a piebald mare. Chet’s horse, a chestnut gelding named Barney, stood resolutely on the far side of the coral, ignoring them.

“Have you ridden any of them yet?” Dakota asked, stopping at Andy’s side. He held a carrot out to the mare.

“I’ve ridden Romeo, here,” he said, reaching out to pet the stallion’s nose. Romeo leaned closer, nosing for a carrot, and Andy obliged.

“How about Barney?” she asked, nodding toward the gelding that was inching closer around the side of the corral, wanting his own share of the treats.

“He bit me,” Andy retorted.

Dakota choked back a laugh. “Not sweet old Barney.”

“Sweet?” Andy shook his head. “That horse hates me. Every chance he gets, he gives me a nip. I just about lost the top of my ear last time.”

“Okay, well, not Barney, then,” she replied with a shake of her head. In fact, if Andy wasn’t going to ride Barney, she was inclined to take him herself. He was an experienced horse for this ride, a sweetheart deep down...if you weren’t Andy, apparently.

“So what do you think?” he asked.

She paused for a moment, considering.

“Romeo, here, is young and strong. He’s a runner. He’ll go and go, so he’ll definitely have the energy for a cattle drive. But he doesn’t have the experience.”

“I like him, though,” Andy said. Romeo crunched another carrot, his jaw grinding in slow, satisfied circles. “He wasn’t Chet’s first choice, either.”

“Which horse did Chet recommend?” she asked.

“Patty,” he said, nodding to the piebald mare. “But what do you think?”

Dakota looked over the horses. “I’d have said Barney, but if he really hates you that much—”

“And he does,” Andy replied in a low laugh.

“Patty is a good horse. She’d do well.” She paused, watching the way Romeo stretched toward Andy for another carrot. “But you seem to have a good bond with Romeo. I don’t know. I’d say it’s between Patty and Romeo. Patty would be my first choice. I think Romeo’s a risk.”

Andy nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” He gave the last carrot to Patty and showed Romeo his empty hands. “Sorry, buddy. All out.”

Andy pushed himself off the fence and Dakota followed him as he headed back the way they’d come. Sunlight warmed her shoulders and the top of her head. She glanced around the yard as they walked, inhaling the comforting scent of hay and autumn chill.

“So?” she prodded.

“When have I ever been one to take good advice?” he asked with a grin. “I’m taking Romeo. If I’m going to ride for four days, I’d rather have it be with a horse that wants to move.”

Somehow this didn’t surprise her in the least, and not in a pleasant way. Andy Granger had always made his own rules. “Fair enough.”

“What?” He cast her a quizzical look.

“Did you really want my advice, or just a vote for what you already wanted to do?”

“Hey.” His tone grew deeper and his eyes met hers. “I might not be the rancher of the family, but I’m not exactly a lost kitten, either. I can ride.”

Dakota dropped her gaze, her cheeks warming. Andy had an effective stare.

“I grew up here, too, you know,” he added. His stride was long and she had to pick up her pace to keep up with him.

He may have grown up in Hope, but she knew he’d never taken ranching very seriously.

“You clowned around,” she retorted. “I remember that horse show where you arrived late and—”

“I had my fun,” he interrupted. “And why not? No one else took me seriously.”

“They might have,” she shot back, “if you’d shown that you cared about this land at all.”

“And if I were punctual.” He gave her a look of mock seriousness. “So very punctual.”

He was making fun of her now and she shook her head. Andy had been late for that horse show, and she’d told him off for it when he finally did arrive. It was that joking attitude of his that rubbed her the wrong way—it always had. Always joking, never saying anything of any substance. In her own humble opinion, Andy’s father had made the right call in who got the ranch.

“You were late, and I came in first at that show,” she said. She’d enjoyed beating him.

“I was late and I still came in third,” he quipped. “Imagine what I could’ve done if I’d arrived on time.”

“Yes,” she retorted. “Imagine.”

The thing was Andy hadn’t lacked in skill or talent, just focus. At least that was the way she saw it. And he hadn’t focused because he hadn’t cared about ranching life. But Dakota did—she cared more than a guy like Andy could ever imagine, and while he was horsing around and flirting with girls, she’d been working hard. It wasn’t just a junior horse show, it was a matter of pride.

“I was joking.” He came to a stop in front of the house and shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t sober entirely, that smile still teasing at the corners of his mouth. “You’ll get used to it.”

From where they stood she could see the barn on one side and the drive leading toward the main road on the other. It wound through bushes of amber and nut brown, a few cattails growing in the ditch where water collected. The cluck of the chickens mingled with the faraway call of a lone V of geese that soared overhead. She could see the beauty here—the life, the rotation of the seasons, the work to be done and the harvest to be enjoyed. She could see things she was quite sure Andy didn’t. The land wasn’t a joke, it was a responsibility.

“I’m already used to it,” she retorted. “You’re acting like I don’t know you. If you want to know why people are so ticked with you, this is it. This is all a joke for you, just a way to pass the time. But for the rest of us, this is our life, something we care enough about to dedicate every waking hour. When you sold that land, you made a dent in this community and it’s affected us all—my family especially. You might be joking around, but the rest of us are dead serious, and we’re left paying for it.”

“And I doubt there’s any way you’ll forgive me, is there?” He’d sobered finally, the joking look evaporating from his face, leaving those chiseled Granger good looks to drill straight into her.

“Probably not.” Dakota sucked in a breath and nodded in the direction of the corral. “I still recommend Patty, for the record. Not that I expect it to matter to you.”

“Noted. And I should add that just because I joke around doesn’t mean I’m not dead serious about some things, this cattle drive included.”

“Good.” She swallowed, uncertain of what else to say. There was nothing left, really. She’d stated her position and he’d stated his. They weren’t friends. They weren’t anything, really, except two people forced to work together for a few days. What he thought of this land didn’t much matter. It didn’t belong to him.

“So I’ll see you Monday morning,” he said. “I want to start riding at sunup.”

“I’ll see you then,” she said and turned toward her truck.

“Dakota—” She turned back and he shrugged. “Thanks for meeting me halfway.”

Halfway at civil. It wasn’t much, but it seemed to mean something to him. Melancholy swam in those green eyes and then he gave her a nod of farewell and turned back toward the house. For all of his joking around, he was carrying a heavier load than she’d given him credit for. While she’d always hoped he’d live to regret what he’d done to this town by selling out, she’d never considered what it would mean to see that regret reflected in his face. Karma was best reported secondhand, not witnessed...something she’d already learned with Dwight.

A few years ago, right around Christmastime, she remembered putting up the family tree in the living room with her brother. She’d been dating Dwight at the time, and no one knew about his violent outburst yet, but apparently, his boozing had put up some warning flags. Brody had given her some sound advice. “Don’t get caught up with a guy who will ruin your future,” he’d told her seriously. “You already know what you want. Dwight doesn’t—and even if he did, he’d have to stop drinking if he wanted to achieve anything. So you’d better put together the life you want. No guy is going to give it to you, least of all Dwight. You need to dump his sorry butt before it’s too late.”

That advice still applied—both about steering clear of Dwight and any other guy who didn’t share her priorities. The wrong man could demolish everything she’d worked for.

Chapter Two

Dakota put her truck into reverse and pulled a three-point turn before heading out the drive that lead to the main road. She steered around a pothole, the dried fingertips of bushes scratching across the side of her vehicle. Mission accomplished: she’d secured the job. When Chet had called several days ago asking her to lend a hand on their late cattle drive for a decent sum, she’d been relieved. They needed the extra money rather badly, especially with Christmas coming up. Sometimes blessings came in the form of hard work.

Andy had been a surprise, though.

She turned onto the main road and heaved a sigh. She’d been more nervous than she’d thought when she realized she’d be dealing with Andy and not his more likeable brother. But a job was a job, and with her mother’s medical bills for her emergency hysterectomy last year and the down payment they needed to put down for the new hydration system, she’d take a paycheck any way she could get it, and this drover position was paying relatively well. Chet was like that. He knew better than to offer the Masons charity, but he’d offer a job for fair pay. That was the sort of kindness Dakota could accept.

The road divided the land—one side an endless, rippling carpet of golden wheat, the other what used to be the Granger’s pasture, a mixture of maize yellow with olive green and sienna—the different grasses maturing together into a rich expanse, the beauty of which was marred by muddy roads. The growl of large machinery surfed the breeze, tractors creeping along the ground in the distance, and every time she looked at them, a new wave of anger swept over her. Lordship Land Developers had friends in powerful places to get the zoning for this eyesore, and all the petitions she’d filed had made no difference at all. Apparently money spoke louder than righteous indignation. And Dakota had plenty of righteous indignation.

This county—this road—was as much a part of her as her own blood, and seeing it torn apart hurt on a gut level. Andy had seemed properly surprised at the impact his choice had had on their ranch, but it didn’t change where the blame lay. He’d had one foot out of town for as long as she’d known him. Again, a lot like Nina Harpe—the woman engaged to her brother, Brody...whom her brother still believed he’d marry. Except, Nina had up and married Brody’s best friend while he was stationed overseas with the army. Nina was more than beautiful—she was voluptuous and sexy, a Marilyn Monroe singing Happy Birthday to the president. Apparently, one of her virtues wasn’t patience.

Dakota wasn’t given to petty grudges. She believed in second chances and people’s ability to grow, unless that person had singlehandedly impoverished her family’s land or broken her brother’s heart. Her benevolence had a limit. To be fair, Brody’s heart wasn’t broken yet...but that clock was ticking.

And yet, in one small corner of her own heart, she found herself pitying Andy. He deserved what he got—there was no ambivalence there—yet the softer side of her still hated to see someone suffer. Even Andy Granger.

A few miles farther led to her own drive and she slowed to make the turn. As her tires crunched over the gravel, her phone chirped on the seat beside her. It was an incoming email. She glanced down and saw that it was from Brody. It was always a treat to hear from him, except lately, when he was asking more persistently about Nina. There was more to that story and she couldn’t be the one to tell him.

Dakota and Brody always had been close as kids. She’d been fiercely protective of her quiet big brother, and he’d never really treated her like a little kid. Before he’d left, they’d discussed the future of the ranch in depth together, and it felt weird to have him so far away. But this was what Brody had always dreamed of, joining the army and protecting his country.

A brown, floppy-eared mutt raced after the truck as she pulled to a stop next to the single-level ranch house. Shelby bounced excitedly, planting several muddy footprints into Dakota’s jeans when she opened the door.

“Hi, girl,” she said, scratching the dog behind the ears.

“That you, Dakota?” Her mother’s voice came from the house and then she appeared at the screen door. Her sweater was rolled up to the elbows, her front covered in a floral print apron and her hands—held up like a surgeon’s—were covered in flour.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Where were you?”

“I was just lining things up with the Grangers for their cattle drive.” Dakota gave Shelby another rub and then headed toward the house. She kicked her boots against the step on her way in.

She glanced down at her phone and skimmed her brother’s email as she came in past the screen door.

“What are you reading?” her mother asked, glancing over her shoulder. She was working on some cinnamon buns, rolling out the fluffy dough with a heavy, wooden rolling pin.

“Email from Brody.”

“How’s he doing?”

They all missed Brody. He’d been gone a full year now, and anyone who heard from him was honor-bound to share with the rest of the family. He was serving the country, and Dakota was so proud of him it almost hurt sometimes, but that only made their secret here at home all the heavier.

“He’s asking about Nina again,” Dakota said as she came into the kitchen, and she and her mother exchanged a look.

“What did you say?” her mother asked, reaching for the butter plate.

“I haven’t answered him.” Dakota sighed. “I really don’t like lying to him, Mom. He’s going to hate us for this.”

Brody was the big, burly kind of guy who kept his thoughts to himself, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel things deeply. Dakota had often thought the girl who ended up with her brother would be lucky, indeed, which was why his choice of Nina Harpe had been such a disappointment. But he’d asked Nina to marry him and she’d accepted. What could they do?

“I don’t want him distracted over that little idiot when he’s dodging bullets,” she retorted. That little idiot was what her mother had called Nina since she’d sheepishly announced she was marrying Brian Dickerson eight months after Brody had been deployed. She’d followed through with that—a tiny wedding she’d agreed to keep secret—and then promptly moved to the city with her new husband. To add insult to injury, Brian had been Brody’s best friend since elementary school. They both were going to have some explaining to do when Brody got back home. As was Dakota when she’d have to tell her brother why she’d kept the secret, and she wasn’t looking forward to coming clean. Brody was going to be crushed.

Brody was better off without Nina, though. She was flighty and more preoccupied with material objects and celebrity gossip than she was anything worthwhile. She had perfectly coiffed red hair, swaying hips and breasts like melons. She left a cloud of perfume in her wake, and a string of gaping men.

Nina was a self-involved flirt, much like Andy Granger, but having Nina take up with Brian behind her brother’s back was worse. Brody’s taste might be a little lacking, but he deserved better than that while he fought for his country. Apparently, Nina hadn’t been able to wait long before she got sidetracked by the next available guy. They’d all agreed to keep the secret until he got back. Then Nina could rip his heart out at her leisure, when he was safely home again.

“Don’t worry, I have plenty to distract Brody with,” Dakota said with a wry smile. “Did you know that Chet and Mackenzie are at the city hospital right now?”

“I just heard that from Audrey,” her mother said with a frown. “Apparently the babies are low in amniotic fluid and she needs to be under medical supervision. Who’s taking care of the ranch while they’re gone?”

“Andy.”

“What?” Her mother looked back. “Seriously? So the prodigal son has come back, has he?”

“As a favor to Chet, he claims,” she replied, her mind flashing to the meeting at the Granger ranch. “So he’ll be the one leading the cattle drive. I don’t think Andy knows enough to lead one on his own, but apparently he’s going to try.”

Her mother fell silent and they exchanged a tired look. Andy Granger was old news. They’d talked about him on a regular basis, and he’d grown bigger and badder with each mention.

Dakota remembered coming back late one night after the construction had started and the water had dried up, and could recall overhearing her parents talking in the kitchen, their voices filtering through the open window. Her father had sounded so gutted, so deeply sad, that his deep voice trembled.

“Millie, we might lose this place...” There had been a pause so long Dakota’s leg had almost cramped as she’d tried to stay still. “That Granger kid... He did this. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him.”

Dakota had never forgotten those words or the quivering sadness in his voice. Because of Andy, her father stood to lose the land that fueled his heart, and she was determined to do whatever it took to keep them ranching.

Hence looking for side work and extra income. She’d taken anything she could get for the last several years, but it had never quite added up to enough.

“The cattle drive starts Monday,” Dakota said. “So, like I said, I’ll have plenty to update Brody about without having to say much of anything about Nina.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” her mother asked. “You agreed to work with Chet, not Andy.”

“There aren’t that many jobs posted right now, Mom.” Dakota picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and polished it on her shirt. “And the Grangers are paying pretty well. Don’t worry. I can deal with Andy Granger for a few days.” Dakota shot her mother a grin. “I’m pretty sure he’s more afraid of me than I am of him.”

Her bravado was only partially sincere, though. She wasn’t looking forward in the least to doing a cattle drive with Andy, but the last thing her mother needed was to shoulder more guilt about the family finances. It wasn’t her fault that she’d gotten sick or that the insurance company had fallen through when they’d needed them most. What mattered was that she’d gotten the hysterectomy she’d so desperately needed and was back to full strength.

“As for Nina...” her mother added. “We only have to keep the secret until your brother gets home in February. Just a few months longer. I’d rather have him find out when he has family support.”

It was an old conversation—one they’d had a hundred times before—and Dakota stared down at the polished apple in her hands.

“What about Dad?” she asked cautiously. “I know how he feels about Andy and all—”

“He’ll be fine. A paycheck is a paycheck.” She smiled wanly. “As long as you think you can handle it.”

Dakota took a bite of the crisp apple and chewed thoughtfully. Times like these she missed her brother the most. Brody would have some wisecrack to make them laugh and he’d manage to cut Andy down to size in no time.

“I’m going to go fill the feeders before it gets too late,” Dakota said. They’d done their own cattle drive last month and the whole herd was back in the nearby fields. The cows wouldn’t wait, and she still had to sort out how they’d manage the work while she was gone for a few days. There was one thing she wanted more than anything else, and that was to ranch this very land she was raised on, if only she could get her father to let go of his hopes for Brody taking it over. She glanced down at her brother’s email.

Is Nina okay? She seems distant, but I guess I’m a bit distant, too. I want to do the right thing and marry her when I get back. I know you don’t like frilly stuff, but any chance you’d pitch in and help to put together a wedding?

This family was in tatters; their finances were shaky. Right about now, doing a cattle drive with the man who’d dried up their land didn’t seem half bad compared to facing the rest of their problems.

She needed a paycheck. She’d start with that.

* * *

HARLEY WEBB ARRIVED on time with a cigarette behind his ear and a worn New Testament tucked into the front pocket of his fleece-lined jean jacket. He looked young—too young for this job. He’d barely grown a mustache and the rest of his face looked smooth as a boy’s. A cowboy hat sat firmly on his head and his hands looked too big for his wiry physique, like an overgrown puppy. So this was the bottom of the barrel, apparently.

“Harley, I take it?” Andy asked, shaking the kid’s calloused hand—at least he’d done some hard work in his life.

“That’s right,” Harley replied. “Good to meet you.”

While Dakota had the unpleasant surprise of seeing Andy instead of Chet, Andy had been the one to call Harley for an interview, and it was mildly relieving not to have to explain his presence to someone. That being said, he didn’t know this kid from Adam, and he was used to having some sort of personal association with the men who worked the ranch—either they’d worked on a neighboring ranch in the past or were related to someone from the county. Harley, however, seemed to have dropped down from above—a gangly, questionable gift.

“So where are you from?” Andy asked, leading the way into the house.

“Idaho,” he replied.

“And what brings you here?” Andy stood back while Harley came inside. He gestured to a kitchen chair and both men sat. Harley took off his hat, his thin, brown hair flattened against his forehead.

“I came out here to visit some family,” Harley said. He fiddled with the edge of his hat. “Decided to stay a bit longer, and I need to make some money.”

Andy nodded. It sounded plausible. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.” Harley laughed self-consciously. “Trust me, I get carded a lot.”

“You have some ID?” Andy asked, and Harley shrugged, leaned the side and pried a wallet out of his back pocket. His Idaho driver’s license confirmed his age.