A Cowboy's Christmas Proposal

* * *

“NO OFFENSE, BUT you don’t look like a minister.”

Owen didn’t blame Molly for doubting him. He wasn’t really a minister. And his three intent-on-misbehaving offspring were hardly aiding his image.

“I got ordained online,” he explained. “A buddy asked me to officiate his wedding a few months ago. We had this bet and, well...”

“Is that even a real thing? Getting ordained online?”

He corralled his children closer. They’d attempted to wander off in three different directions, and the room had far too many breakables for his comfort level. “I guarantee you, I can legally marry people. In Arizona, at least.”

“Do you have any credentials?”

“I didn’t bring my certificate. I figured Uncle Homer had vouched for me.”

“What’s his cell phone number?”

Owen chuckled. “You plan on calling him to verify my story?”

“Yes.” She squared her shoulders. “I do.”

“That’s funny.”

“Oh?” She drew out the word.

“You said ‘I do.’ Like in a wedding vow. And I’m an online minister.”

“Huh.”

All right, not funny. Ms. O’Malley apparently lacked a sense of humor.

Then again, Owen was a complete stranger, and he’d obviously caught her at a bad moment, when she was overwhelmed and not expecting him. Anyone’s sense of humor would desert them.

She lifted one side of the apron she wore and produced a phone from her jeans pocket. Swiping the screen, she raised her brows expectantly. “What’s your uncle’s number?”

Owen obliged her, and she quickly entered it. He might have spent more time losing himself in the depths of her incredible green eyes, but his son chose that moment to renew the squabble with his sister.

“Cody, that’s enough.”

Owen blocked his son’s hand right before it connected with his oldest daughter, Marisa. Cody was strictly forbidden to tease or torment his little sisters. Unfortunately, that seldom deterred him, and Marisa was his target more often than Willa, the youngest.

In response, Marisa dropped to the floor and resumed crying. “I wanna go home.”

Willa collapsed beside her sister, whining in solidarity, while Cody grabbed Owen’s arm and, lifting his feet, dangled in his best monkey impersonation.

Owen attempted to quiet the girls and sent Molly an apologetic smile. This wasn’t the auspicious beginning he’d envisioned.

The sad truth was Owen didn’t know his children very well or they him. He’d been away more than he’d been home in recent years and was sorely lacking when it came to parenting skills.

One of the reasons he’d agreed to take a month off and cover for his great-uncle was the perks that came with the job. He’d been promised a cabin and plenty of free time to connect with his estranged children.

Never again would he pick them up for a scheduled visit only to have Willa not recognize him. The blow Owen suffered had been the motivator behind him turning a new leaf, and he’d vowed from that day forward nothing and no one would come before his children.

“Homer’s not answering, either.” Molly disconnected and repocketed her phone.

“I’m sure they’ll call when they reach Flagstaff. Service is pretty iffy between here and there.”

“Did your uncle coerce my grandmother?”

He thought at first she might be joking then realized she wasn’t. “I doubt it. She seemed pretty eager when they came by my house on Thursday to ask if I’d cover for Uncle Homer.”

Molly’s gaze narrowed. “Just how well do you know my grandmother?”

“We’ve met twice. I’m all the family Uncle Homer has in Arizona. Which is why, I think, they chose to elope and take a long RV trip. Uncle Homer’s son couldn’t arrange time off work on such short notice to come to a wedding, and his daughter’s scared to death of flying. He wanted your grandmother to meet his children and brothers and grandchildren, and they’re spread out over six different states. Kind of romantic, if you think about it. Eloping and touring the country.”

“Except my mom and aunt haven’t met Homer, and none of us were invited to the wedding.”

Owen heard the hurt in her voice she tried to mask and felt a need to ease it. “The way Uncle Homer put it, they were trying to be fair. His family couldn’t come here and you’re not able to leave. Eloping was a compromise.”

Molly shook her head. “Grandma wouldn’t up and leave. Sweetheart Ranch is too important to her.”

“I’m sure she put you and your sister in charge because she’s confident in your abilities to manage the ranch without her.”

“We need her. Today’s our grand opening. The mayor’s coming. And a reporter from Channel 5.” Molly glanced over her shoulder at a clock on the fireplace mantel. “They’ll be here in three hours.”

Three and a half, to be exact. But Owen didn’t correct her as his kids were again demanding his attention.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

“Cody kicked me.”

“Where Mama? Want Mama.” Willa stuck her pudgy thumb in her mouth and sucked lustily.

Owen bent and scooped up his youngest. He simultaneously took hold of Cody’s shirt collar before the boy made a run for it. With her siblings restrained, Marisa was likely to stick close.

“I know you’re busy,” Owen said. “If you can show us to our cabin, we’ll get out of your hair.”

“Your cabin,” Molly repeated.

“Emily mentioned she’d reserved one for us.”

“Right.” Molly’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, another sign of how hurt she was by the elopement. “I should have guessed. She’s been planning this for weeks. That’s why she insisted our vacancies didn’t matter.”

Owen suffered a stab of guilt. Perhaps he shouldn’t have encouraged Uncle Homer. “We can stay at the inn in town if it’s a problem.”

“It isn’t,” Molly said.

“You sure?”

“Positive. The cabin’s empty anyway.”

“Daddy,” Marisa pleaded.

“I wanna eat.” Cody twisted sideways.

Convinced his luck was about to run out, Owen said, “Let me get the kids settled and give them a snack. Then we’ll be back, and you can put me to work.” He flashed his best sales rep smile in an attempt to win her over.

“You’ll help?”

“I’m capable of more than marrying people.”

“We do need a minister,” she mused. “And someone to move furniture.”

“I’m good at heavy lifting.”

She returned his smile, a genuine one this time, and Owen found himself quite captivated. Strawberry blondes were his weakness, and this one came with the added bonus of freckles.

He admired Molly for more than her looks, though. She was obviously overwhelmed from being thrust into a difficult and unexpected situation. Yet, that hadn’t prevented her from doing her job.

A nose-to-the-grindstone attitude and the ability to navigate chaos were qualities Owen appreciated, and he cultivated them in himself. He attributed his success in two careers—professional cowboy and marketing—to those same qualities. He had every intention of applying them to repairing his strained relationship with his children.

Before any of them had taken a step, the front door whooshed opened. Molly went visibly weak with relief. “Finally! The flowers are here.”

Owen wished his arms were a foot longer. The better to contain Cody who was intent on beating the rest of them outside.

“Slow down, partner.”

Rather than the florist, a pinch-faced, pint-size elderly woman in a large, drab coat entered the parlor. Molly was about to be disappointed for a second time.

Except she immediately brightened. “Nora! Please tell me you’re here to rescue us.”

“What else would get me out of bed at this ungodly hour?”

Was eight forty-five an ungodly hour? Apparently for Nora it was.

“I assume this is Homer’s great-nephew.” Removing her coat, she gave Owen careful consideration. “He didn’t mention you were easy on the eyes.”

Owen grinned. “He didn’t mention you were, either.”

Her dour countenance magically transformed into a delighted grin. “And charming to boot. I do believe this next month is going to be quite enjoyable.”

“For me, too.”

She twittered. Owen didn’t think he’d heard a woman twitter since he first met his former mother-in-law.

“Are you a witch?” Cody glowered at her. “I don’t like witches.”

Owen was tempted to cover his son’s mouth before the boy embarrassed him further. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries. Your children are adorable. Emily asked me to watch them while you’re busy marrying folks. Got a half-dozen of my own grandkids, so I’m plenty experienced.”

Owen thought her assessment of his kids was much too kind. “I’d be very grateful and will compensate you.”

“Emily’s paying my salary. Said childcare was part of her arrangement with you.”

It was, but Owen didn’t want to take advantage.

“Did Grandma tell you she was eloping?” Molly asked Nora.

“I’m her best friend. She called me last night.”

Molly scowled. “She left us a note.”

“Don’t go getting bent out of shape. She didn’t tell you because you’d have tried to talk her out of it.”

“I absolutely would have.”

“See?” Nora moved her suitcase-sized purse to her other arm. I’m also supposed to take over guest relations for you.”

“What?” Molly drew back. “No!”

Nora shrugged. “Suit yourself. But it’s either that or wedding coordinator, and I’m thinking you’ll be a whole lot better at coordinating weddings than me, considering you have experience planning two of your own.”

Molly ignored the comment and faced Owen. “I’ll fetch the cabin key and meet you there. Number six. Drive around back. Farthest one on the left.” With that, she left.

Owen watched her retreating back. Molly had been married twice?

“Touched a nerve, apparently,” Nora said, erupting in laughter.

CHAPTER TWO

MOLLY WALKED TO the cabins, ruthlessly zipping her jacket against the late-November chill. She shouldn’t care what Owen thought of her. She hardly knew the man. They’d met mere minutes ago. So what if he was good-looking. He had three children and was probably married.

Then again, would a husband leave his wife for a month and take the kids? She doubted it, and he wasn’t the type. Owen Caufield had responsible written all over him.

Rather than continue fuming, she directed her anger where it belonged. At Nora for blabbing what was Molly’s personal business to a complete stranger, and at her grandmother for leaving her and Bridget in this predicament. The Saturday after Thanksgiving, no less.

True, Molly would have tried to talk Grandma Em out of eloping, but that was no reason to hide her plans. As her trusted employees who were expected to cover for her, and as her granddaughters, Molly and Bridget should have been told. Had deserved to be told.

Despite what Owen said, his great-uncle must have convinced Grandma Em to elope. There was no other reasonable explanation. According to him, Grandma Em and Homer were trying to be fair. Really? There was nothing fair about excluding everyone from the wedding.

Twice Molly had come very close to walking down the aisle. Both times she couldn’t have imagined the day without her parents, sister, extended family and friends there to share in the celebration. Not having loved ones present seemed almost...a sacrilege. It was certainly selfish, inconsiderate and hurtful to those not invited.

Love makes people do crazy things.

Bridget’s words echoed in Molly’s ears as she cut through the courtyard, bypassed the gated swimming pool and clubhouse, and skirted the storage room that contained bikes, hiking equipment, lawn games and a washer and dryer for the guests’ use. She emerged on the other side at the same moment a silver pickup truck, Owen’s she presumed, proceeded slowly along the dirt lane circling the back of the ranch house.

Ahead of Molly were six cabins, spaced approximately twenty yards apart. Constructed of pine to resemble the main house built in the 1880s, the cabins were new and blissfully without quirks. Rule number one in the hospitality industry: guests didn’t like being disturbed by clanging pipes, the periodic flickering light and a furnace that grumbled like an old man.

The stables and carriage house were a short distance away. Also part of the original homestead, the twin structures had been refurbished by the same contractor who’d built the cabins. Two draft horses resided in the stables, their job to pull the wedding carriage on romantic rides through town—Sweetheart Ranch’s signature amenity for the happy couple. In addition to the carriage, the ranch also had an old farm wagon used for hayrides.

Big Jim, a semiretired wrangler from one of the many cattle ranches in the area, worked part-time for the O’Malleys. He saw to the horses’ care and drove the team. He was in the stables now, cleaning stalls in preparation for the open house, which would include tours of the cabins and the horse facilities.

Grandma Em had insisted on everything being spic-and-span. Except she wasn’t here to see it.

Molly fought against the rush of tears threatening to fall. She wasn’t about to let Owen Caufield see her cry. She was on the verge of enjoying her first successful job of a thus-far lackluster hotel administration career. Without her grandmother’s guidance and support, history might well repeat itself.

Could this be a test? Was Grandma Em attempting to determine if Molly had the necessary skills to assist managing Sweetheart Ranch and potentially take over one day? For all Molly knew, her grandmother could return tomorrow morning after the open house had bombed and tell Molly her previous employers had been right to let her go.

Failures. Her life was full of them. Failed relationships. Failed engagements. Failed jobs.

“Not this time,” Molly promised herself and headed toward cabin number six.

Owen had already parked in front of the cabin when she arrived. His son immediately jumped out of the back passenger seat and landed on his feet with a thud. He then bolted for the cabin’s shaded front stoop.

“Cody, get back here,” Owen hollered.

Molly suspected Cody misbehaving and Owen reprimanding him was a regular occurrence.

“I gotta go, Daddy. Bad.”

Ah. A bathroom emergency. Molly hurried, the key jangling in her hand. Sweetheart Ranch didn’t use plastic cards. Grandma Em had been firm on that issue. Keys enhanced the old-fashioned ambience.

“Hold on,” Molly said, glad to set her emotions aside. Climbing the stoop, she nudged Cody’s hand away. He’d been repeatedly twisting the uncooperative knob.

“If you wait a minute, I’ll be right there.” Owen had managed to lift the toddler from her car seat. His other daughter refused to stop fidgeting despite his requests, making freeing her difficult.

“It’s okay. No rush.” Molly opened the door. “I’ll watch him.”

Watch him like a hawk. She’d bet money Cody would find trouble if left unsupervised.

“You stay here,” Cody demanded and charged inside. “Going to the bathroom is private.”

“Of course.” Molly nonetheless kept an eye on him as he stomped through the front room and down the hall.

A moment later, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Owen and the girls come inside, a cold gust following them.

“Nice.” Owen paused and surveyed the room with its overstuffed sofa, oak coffee and end tables, lamps that resembled lanterns, antique oxen yoke hanging on the wall, and lacy curtains. “Very cozy.”

“There’s a kitchenette with an under-the-counter fridge, a three-burner stove, microwave and sink.” Molly pointed out the various features with pride and satisfaction. The cabins were indeed nice, and she’d contributed significantly to their design. “The sofa is a sleeper with a queen-size mattress.”

“That’s good.” Owen let go of the girls’ hands, allowing them to explore. “I brought a portable crib for Willa. I’m thinking Cody and Marisa can sleep out here while I take the bedroom.”

“I don’t wanna sleep with Cody.” Marisa made a face and glared at the offending sofa.

“But this bed’s special,” Owen said. “It pops out of the sofa like magic.”

Marisa wasn’t mollified. “I want Oreo.”

“Oreo,” Willa agreed and dropped onto her bottom in the middle of the floor.

“Their dog,” Owen told Molly. “She sleeps in the girls’ room on Marisa’s bed.”

“I’m sorry. Only service dogs are allowed at the ranch.” Molly admired his patience with these three. They were a handful.

“Wow!” Cody exploded from the bathroom. “Daddy, come look. The tub is huge.”

“Each cabin comes with a built-in two-person spa tub,” Molly explained to Owen. “And an enclosed courtyard in back for privacy.”

“I’m intrigued.” His gaze caught hers and lingered.

Molly glanced away first but not before her heart gave an unexpected leap. Really?

She checked Owen’s left hand for a wedding ring before she could stop herself. There was none, not that she cared.

“Daddy!” Cody insisted. “Come look at the bathtub.”

“I’m hungry,” Marisa complained from the kitchenette where she was opening every lower cabinet and drawer within her reach.

“I’ll leave you to get unpacked.” Molly seized the chance to escape and inched toward the door. “Let me know if there’s anything you require. Extra towels or pillows. Assistance connecting to the complimentary Wi-Fi.”

“Can we ride the horses?” Cody asked.

Owen reached out and tousled his son’s hair. “We noticed the stables.”

Molly gave an apologetic head shake, neatly slipping back into guest relations mode. “I’m afraid Moses and Amos are for carriage and hayrides only. But Powell Ranch is a half mile up the road, and they rent horses by the hour for trail rides and lessons. There are also plenty other family-friendly activities in the nearby area. They’re listed in the binder.” She pointed to the coffee table. “Hiking trails and the OdySea Aquarium. There’s even recreational bull riding at the Poco Dinero Bar and Grill.”

“I’ve heard about that,” Owen said. “Maybe I’ll take a spin.”

“You’ve rodeoed before?”

“In my previous life. Before I became a marketing rep for Waverly Equine Products.”

That was interesting. Despite his Western dress, Molly hadn’t pictured him riding bulls. Must be the pressed jeans. She’d pegged him as more of a weekend cowboy.

“Daddy was a champion,” Cody announced. “He has gold buckles and trophies.”

“I’m impressed.”

“I made a living at it.” Owen shrugged. “For a while.”

“What happened?”

“Complications,” he said. “Mostly these three. Their mom didn’t like me being on the road every week.”

“Understandable.”

“The funny thing is I wound up traveling just as much with Waverly. Which is why I quit. More time to spend with this motley crew. It’s also why I agreed to help out Uncle Homer for a month. I plan on getting sick of their company.”

“You’re not working?” Molly immediately wished she could take back the question. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me to ask. And none of my business.”

“It’s all right. I’m not embarrassed. The fact is, I need to make some changes in my life, and now I have the chance. Don’t suppose you’ve heard of any places in the area hiring a former senior marketing rep who doesn’t want to travel much?”

“Afraid not.”

“I guess the good news is I brought my laptop and you have complimentary Wi-Fi.”

Molly reached for the doorknob, more eager than ever to be on her way. “If you’ll excuse me, I have about a hundred tasks waiting for me at the house.”

“We’ll be along shortly.”

She barely heard his reply as she shut the door behind her and trotted down the steps. At the bottom, she wiped her brow.

“That was close.”

Owen was a charming man and potentially hard to resist. But going all soft inside at a man’s admiring glance had landed Molly in trouble before, causing her to fall blindly in love and miss the obvious indicators of trouble brewing.

Besides, Sweetheart Ranch and its success were her priorities. She owed her grandmother that and more for giving her a second chance. Now wasn’t the time to act on any romantic sparks. Especially with a man who had his own important priorities that included taking care of three young children and finding a new job.

* * *

MOLLY STOPPED AT the clubhouse on her return from Owen’s cabin, making sure all was in order for the open house. When her cell phone suddenly started playing Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” on her way out the door, she jumped. Grandma Em returning her calls. Finally! With fumbling fingers, she whipped out her phone and answered.

“Grandma. Where are you?”

To her dismay, a sob caught in her throat—from relief and from sorrow at her grandmother’s abandonment. Not that her grandmother had abandoned her exactly. In the same way her father hadn’t exactly abandoned Molly when he’d died soon after her twelfth birthday. Still, she felt a keen loss whenever someone took off without warning and tended to react emotionally.

“In Flagstaff,” Grandma said. “We stopped for gas.”

“Okay.” Molly’s voice sounded small.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Please don’t think I bailed on you.”

If she were a completely unselfish person, Molly would assure her grandmother that everything was fine, express her joy over the elopement, and wish her grandmother and Homer a safe and enjoyable trip.

But Molly was too overcome with hurt to be completely unselfish. “You left without saying goodbye.”

“It wasn’t an easy decision. Believe me.”

“Then why?”

“I knew if I told you, you’d have probably hog-tied me to the nearest chair.”

“You make me sound like a bad person.”

“No, no, sweetie. You’re a sensible person and any argument you made would have been too sensible for me to resist.” Grandma Em sighed wistfully. “I never dreamed I’d meet a man and fall in love. Not after all these years. Homer’s wonderful. Kind and generous and funny and thoughtful.”

“Why couldn’t he have waited a couple months until the ranch was up and running before insisting you run away together?” Molly closed and latched the pool gate behind her before turning in the direction of the house.

“He was more than willing to wait. I’m the one chomping at the bit.”

“Grandma!”

“I know it sounds stupid, and there’s a hundred reasons why we should have delayed. But I just didn’t want to go one more week without being Mrs. Foxworthy. I’m in love, Molly. Head over heels. Fallen off the deep end. Whatever other silly clichéd saying comes to mind.”

“This isn’t like you.”

“Actually, it is. At least, it’s like the person I used to be. Many years ago.”

“Irresponsible?”

“Impetuous and spontaneous and living for the moment.”

Molly could hear her grandmother smiling, which made staying mad impossible. “Don’t you want us with you when you get married?”

“Of course I do. Homer and I are planning on renewing our vows after we get home and throwing a huge party for family and friends. We were thinking of New Year’s Day.”

“I suppose that’ll be nice. I’ll clear the calendar.” As of yet, no weddings were scheduled.

“You’re young, Molly. I don’t expect you to understand. But when you reach my age, well, waiting for the right moment wastes valuable time. Homer and I don’t want to lose a single second of married life together.”

Had Molly ever sounded this excited and happy when she’d been engaged? Her former fiancés had both been excellent matches with good jobs, bright futures and plans to start a family one day. Molly hadn’t believed she could make a better choice for a husband. Choices, she amended.

Yet both men had dumped her before making it down the aisle, the second one a mere three days before their wedding. The excuses they’d cited weren’t dissimilar, Molly was too uptight, detested anything spur-of-the-moment and refused to admit it when she was wrong.