A Snowbound Cowboy Christmas

Making plans with friends had become a rare luxury over the years. She’d lost touch with many of them and looked forward to reconnecting with them once she had a more normal schedule. Many had families of their own and play dates with her daughter beat traipsing across the globe any day. But unless she got to work now, none of that would happen. She focused her attention on her laptop screen and began reviewing her notes.

An hour later, Emma stood and stretched. Her skin felt grimy from the flight and she wanted to slip into something less bulky and hot. She peeked into the bathroom. It wasn’t lavish by any means, but it was spotless. And that suited her just fine.

Emma had just finished showering and dressing when she heard a knock on her room door. She opened it, startled to see Dylan holding a miniature decorated Christmas tree.

“This is a surprise.” Emma had heard of waving the white flag, but never waving a Christmas tree. Nonetheless, she appreciated the effort. “How sweet!”

“All of our guests get a tree during the holidays. Normally they are in the room before they arrive, but since we hadn’t booked this room before your unexpected visit, we hadn’t bothered. Everyone deserves a little Christmas cheer.”

Even her. He hadn’t said the words, but they were certainly implied. So much for assuming he had done something just for her. Not that it mattered.

“Thank you.” Emma took the tree from him and sat it on the worn oak dresser. “I’m hoping to be home by Christmas. You don’t really think we’ll still be snowed in then, do you? That’s a week away.” Not that she had any big plans. Her mother always said it was a kids’ holiday and once she became an adult, they didn’t do much to celebrate it. However, she still didn’t want to spend her rare day off stuck in No-Man’s-Land, Montana with the Grinch.

“I certainly hope not. But it has been unusually cold this year and this is our second snow storm of the season. Let’s not even think about the possibility. I’m sure you’ll be back home before you know it. Anyway, that thing lights up.” Dylan crossed the room like he owned the place—which he did—and eased between her and the tree. The slight brush of his body against hers caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. Of course, he probably wouldn’t have touched her if her belly hadn’t been in the way. She had never felt more unattractive in her life. He wiggled the dresser from the wall to access the outlet and bent over, allowing her the perfect view of his backside. At least that brought a smile to her face.

“There you go.” He moved the dresser back into place and admired the tree as if he’d been the one to invent the electric light. “Now you’re all set.”

Dylan tilted back his hat. “I don’t know if anyone had the chance to tell you our meal schedule around here. Breakfast runs from six to eight, lunch is at noon and dinner at six. Breakfast and lunch are buffets and we serve dinner family-style, where everyone eats together. Although I’m sure you already know what our lodge has to offer. While it’s not sushi and escargot, I assure you it’s stick-to-your-ribs good food.”

“Great.” Emma had never been fond of the whole meat-and-potatoes thing. After wining and dining corporate clients in some of the finest restaurants in the world, her taste buds had been spoiled. She tried to muster some enthusiasm. “I look forward to it.” She was already hungry and at this point, she couldn’t afford to be picky.

“I notified the staff that you may have some extra needs.” Dylan jammed his hands into his pockets and glanced around the room. Was it possible that Mr. Surly was nervous being alone with a pregnant woman? Emma privately laughed at the thought. “We’re not a fancy resort with a twenty-four-hour kitchen, but our head chef said he’d make you some pre-prepared snacks that you will be able to heat up very quickly in the microwave down there. Just tell him your preferences. I know it’s not the greatest, but we haven’t had too many pregnant guests stay here. We’re a little unprepared. I’m sure pre-baby vacations were part of your luxury resort spa, weren’t they?”

“They were.” Emma would give anything for a little pampering. “I appreciate the extra effort you’re making on my behalf, but it’s not necessary. I don’t want to put anybody out.”

“You’re not putting us out.” There was no disguising Dylan’s double meaning. “The staff is good about keeping the walkways clear at all times, but I’ve asked them to be vigilant with the ice melt. So, if you do go outside, you won’t slip and fall. They will continually recheck it during the day, especially in the mornings.”

“Thank you.” Emma thought about her company’s plans for the ranch. It included heated walkways, ensuring guests could safely walk from one area of the resort to the other.

He tugged his hat down low, shielding his eyes. “I’m just being hospitable. After all, this is a guest ranch and you’re a guest.” He turned his back to her and strode to the open door. “Let my staff know if you need anything.”

Before she could respond further, he was gone. Despite his gruffness, she found his gesture endearing. Not that he’d ever admit to it being more than his job. Because they both knew he could have sent anyone up with a tree or forgotten about it altogether. Either way, she was there to convince him to sell the ranch, not make friends.

* * *

DYLAN KICKED HIMSELF for going to her room. The only reason he had was because she’d looked exhausted earlier and he wanted to make sure she was all right. That was his job as the ranch owner. He could’ve insisted an employee drop off the tree and report back to him. The thought had crossed his mind, but he vetoed it because Emma had managed to make quite a few enemies on the ranch. It was hard enough adjusting to life without Jax. Everyone had begun to breathe again when he told them he wasn’t selling Silver Bells. Now her presence brought up myriad speculations. He’d spent the better part of an hour reassuring everyone he hadn’t changed his mind. He didn’t have extra time for that, but he’d had to make the time. Instead, he needed to focus on finding another investor in the ranch if he wanted to keep rooves over his employees’ heads. It irked him that Emma was there. Now he felt responsible for her while they were snowed in and she was one more aggravation he didn’t need.

It was almost noon when Dylan hopped on one of the ranch’s snowmobiles and headed toward the stables. Nothing cured a man’s worries like honest hard work. He shut the engine off in front of the first building. With almost a hundred horses in residence, they had four separate stables in a row with the last building reserved mostly for maintenance. The weathered barn siding had faded to a light gray over the years. They needed updating along with the rest of the ranch. Dylan had tried to allocate money equally between the horses and the lodge, but there just wasn’t enough to go around.

When you didn’t have a whole lot of money, it meant you always had work to do. Considering they were short-staffed after many of their employees had decided to leave when Jax announced the ranch’s imminent closing, Dylan had been pulling double duty. But he needed the distraction of extra work now more than anything.

One of the stables still hadn’t been mucked thanks to Wes once again skipping out on work. In hindsight, he should’ve fired his brother a long time ago, but Dylan and Jax had been the only ranch around willing to put up with his extensive bull-riding schedule. He’d thought after the World Finals that Wes would have returned to work full-time again. He’d been mistaken. At least his brother had the courtesy to send him a text message and say he wasn’t coming in. He didn’t even know where the man was sleeping anymore. He had a cabin on the ranch, but he rarely stayed in it.

He couldn’t blame Wes for not wanting to stick around. Their family had fractured the moment their father had died. Correction, had been killed. His brother, Ryder, had confessed to running over their father after a drunken argument. Four and a half years later and it still didn’t make sense to him. Ryder and their father had always had a great relationship. He had never seen them argue let alone get into a drunken brawl. It didn’t matter now. Dylan had been forced to accept it. He just wished it hadn’t destroyed the rest of his family. He still couldn’t bring himself to visit his brother in prison.

His mother had sold the family ranch and moved to California shortly after the funeral. She’d remarried a year ago and had no plans of returning. His other brother, Garrett, had moved to Wyoming with his wife years earlier and Wes devoted ninety-nine percent of his time to bull riding. That left only Dylan and Harlan in Saddle Ridge. Jax had become a second father to them both. And now he was gone, too.

Dylan reached into his back pocket for his work gloves and realized he’d left them in his truck. He grabbed a spare pair from the tack room and set off in search of the wheelbarrow. He’d already fed the horses that morning. Normally the stalls were empty this time of day, but he’d kept the horses inside when he’d seen the weather report. Mucking stalls when you had to continually move horses around was a pain in the ass. Between that, repairing some tack, ordering supplies and a second attempt at fixing one of their ranch trucks, it would be well past sunset before he finished for the day. Good. That’s what he wanted. No—it’s what he needed.

Over the past six months, Dylan felt like what was left of his family had splintered even further. After Harlan and his ex-wife had split up, whenever he was on late-night patrol as deputy sheriff, Dylan used to babysit his daughter, Ivy. Now that Harlan had married Belle, she watched Ivy when he wasn’t home. There were still rare instances when they both had work or were in desperate need of a date night, but it wasn’t like it used to be. He missed spending time with his niece. Combined with many of his friends leaving the ranch and Jax’s death, he had never felt more alone.

Dylan snatched a shovel from the wall bracket and swung open a stall door. He jammed it into the soiled hay and tossed it into the wheelbarrow. By the time he reached the last stall in the first stable, he no longer felt the cold. Hay and manure replaced the sweet scent of Emma’s hair. A blister had begun to form between his thumb and index finger and he welcomed the ache. If only it would replace the one that had settled deep within his heart.

Five years ago, he had been a man-with-a-plan. He had bought into Silver Bells with the best of intentions. Jax had owned the ranch for three decades and it made a solid income. But he’d had plans to make it better. Together, they were going to create the biggest and best family guest ranch in the state of Montana. His ex, Lauren, had told him repeatedly that she didn’t want to live on a ranch. She wanted to stay in her modern home with sheetrock walls, not rough-hewn cedar logs. She wanted neighbors and a two-car garage, not hundreds of acres for a backyard. And the horses... She’d warned him she wasn’t an animal person, yet he had pushed and pushed until finally she’d pushed back and left.

In hindsight, they couldn’t have been more opposites of each other. It’s what had attracted him to her in the first place. She wasn’t a big city girl like Emma, but she was definitely suburbia. Dylan had made a name for himself training horses and he had set aside every penny he’d made, earning interest. When he’d met Lauren, she’d been divorced for a solid two years already. She had two kids—a boy and a girl, ages three and five. Sweet as the day was long. He loved those kids as if they were his own. And they loved him enough to call him dad. It made her leaving that much harder.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if their marriage had started on a ranch. If he had let her know from the beginning that this was the life he wanted. Instead, he had moved into her traditional four-bedroom home in Bozeman. The city was touristy, rugged and quaint all in the same breath. He had found work but felt suffocated living in their cookie-cutter housing development. The only time he had felt at home during their marriage was when he was working on someone else’s ranch. So, when Jax had presented him with the opportunity to partner in Silver Bells, he jumped on it.

Lauren had followed him faithfully, despite her protests. The day they sold her house, she bawled like he’d never seen before. That had been his first sign they may not last. Dylan hadn’t touched any of the money from that sale. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to. That decision had given Lauren the financial freedom to leave.

The kids had been seven and nine when they moved to the ranch. They had been excited at first, but had quickly grown bored of ranch life when they realized they couldn’t run down the street to play with their friends. Lauren missed her book club and Board of Education administration position. She’d accepted an office job in town, but she couldn’t relate to the other women and their laid-back country lifestyle. The connection just wasn’t there.

She had stuck it out for a year. An actual year to the day. And then that was it. He hadn’t tried to stop her when she left. There had been no point. She was better off without him. Happier, at least. And the last he’d heard, she had married a Bozeman businessman and had returned to living in a cookie-cutter housing development with manicured lawns and white vinyl fences.

He didn’t blame her. He blamed himself. He’d made her believe he was somebody other than he was. It didn’t make losing her and the kids any easier. Since he hadn’t legally adopted the children, he had no claim to them. He’d been their father for four years and he missed it as much today as he had when she’d left.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a real live cowboy at work.”

Emma’s voice startled him and he almost impaled himself on the shovel.

“Somebody has to do it around here since you ran off my men.” Dylan blew out a hard breath. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, you kind of did. But I get it. No harm, no f—What is that smell?”

“Manure.”

“Does it always stink so bad?”

Dylan started laughing so hard he had to brace himself against the stall door. “It’s pretty rank, but I think it might smell stronger because you’re pregnant. But don’t throw up in this stall, I just finished cleaning it.”

“I’m way past the morning-sickness stage. Thank God,” she mumbled while trying to hold her breath.

A gentleman would have offered to walk away from the manure-filled wheelbarrow so she could breathe again, but he wasn’t feeling very gentlemanly. Maybe she would hate the smell enough and wait for him in the stable office until he could find someone to drive her back to the lodge.

“What can I do for you, Emma?” He purposely walked close to her as he passed so she could get a good whiff of him, knowing he wasn’t playing very fair. “How did you get out here, anyway?”

“Your brother gave me a ride.”

“Wes is here?” Dylan tugged off his gloves and yanked his phone out of his pocket. “That son of a— He should be the one doing this, not me. Did he come in with you?”

Emma shook her head. “No. He’s plowing the ranch roads. I don’t think he plans on working in the stables right now.”

At least his brother had decided to work after all. “I love how I own the ranch and I’m the one doing the grunt work. So, I guess now you’re stuck out here with me. I don’t have time to drive you back and I certainly don’t have time to entertain you.”

“I’m not asking you to entertain me.”

“Why are you out here, Emma?”

“Kindly lose the attitude. I realize I’m not your favorite person. All I’m asking for is a couple hours of your time to hear my proposal.”

“You have a lot of nerve, sweetheart.” He couldn’t believe her attitude. “I know all about your plans for the ranch.”

“No, Dylan, you don’t. You think you do, but you don’t. How do I know? Because I never pitched them to you, and Jax told me you didn’t want to listen to him. You might feel differently if we talked about it.”

“As you can already see, I don’t have a couple hours to spare.” Dylan tossed his shovel on top of the wheelbarrow and began pushing it down the stable corridor. “Honestly, I’m finding your insistence insulting.”

“I—I never meant to offend you.” Emma backed away from him and straight into one of the open stall doors.

“Be careful.” He sighed. “Listen, I know you’re just doing your job. I apologize for my attitude. You being here is bringing up some memories I would rather have kept in the past. And before you ask, no, I don’t want to talk about them.”

“Is this about your ex-wife?”

Dylan abruptly released the handles of the wheelbarrow, almost causing it to tip over. “How the hell do you know about that?”

“Jax told me your wife and kids left because you moved them out here and that’s a big reason why you didn’t want to sell the ranch.”

“You’re half-right. My wife and her kids. And there’s more to my not wanting to sell than that. Here I thought my uncle wasn’t much of a gossip. Turns out I was wrong.”

“Jax cared for you very much. Part of his reason for selling was so you could have your freedom again.”

Dylan tugged off his gloves. “Well, doesn’t that just beat all? This ranch was my freedom. My home. By taking it away from me, he was taking away the last breath I had. Did he really say that to you?”

Emma nodded slowly, closing the distance between them. “He thought if you had a fresh start on your own ranch without the debt and problems of this place hanging over your head that you’d be able to move on.”

Dylan recoiled at her words. “Oh, you’re good.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Your job is to convince me to sell and you’re using the information my uncle told you against me.” He had known she was a shrewd businesswoman; he hadn’t known she’d take it this far. “I already know my uncle’s final wish was to sell this place. Doesn’t mean I’m going to honor it, and your charms will not convince me otherwise.”

“You want to be mad at me for being here? Go right ahead. You want to be mad that Jax died? Do it. Let it out. Scream, shout, kick something. It’s okay to be mad at the past. But please don’t insult me in the process.”

Emma stormed out of the stables, leaving him alone with nothing but a pile of manure.

* * *

“THE NERVE OF that man,” Emma grumbled to herself as she traipsed down the freshly-plowed road toward the lodge. She could just about make out the roof of the building from where she stood. At least there was a lull in the storm and it had stopped snowing. While the exercise felt good, her feet were beginning to ache and her fingers were cold. She reached inside her pocket for her phone. Maybe if she called the lodge, somebody could come get her.

She pulled off a glove with her teeth and began to scroll through her contacts when she heard an engine coming up behind her. She stepped off the road and into a pile of cold, wet snow that instantly seeped down into her duck boot moccasins. After she’d let out a few choice curse words, the snowmobile stopped in front of her and cut the engine.

Dylan.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Emma stomped onto the path in a vain attempt to shake the snow from her shoes. She only succeeded in shaking it farther down toward her toes.

“I don’t want to talk to you either, but I’m not going to allow you to freeze out here. You were crazy to think you could walk back to the lodge in this weather.”

Emma wanted to ignore him, but she was too cold and no amount of pride was worth freezing over. “I was just calling the lodge to have someone come and get me.”

“I’m your somebody. Hop on.”

“Hop on where?” While the snowmobile was a decent size, there was no way her and her belly would fit behind him. At least not without her holding on to him for dear life.

Dylan scooted forward to make more room. “Get on. I’ll go slow, I promise.”

Emma raked her hands down her face. She had never been snowmobiling in her life and she didn’t think her doctor back home in Chicago would approve of this little outdoor activity. She climbed on behind him and gripped his hips.

“Wrap your arms around me,” Dylan said over his shoulder.

“I can’t. My stomach is in the way,” Emma muttered.

She didn’t hear or see Dylan laughing, but she felt his body reverberating against hers. She smacked his arm. “It’s not funny. You try being pregnant.”

“I’m sorry.” He continued to laugh. “Can you hold on to my shoulders?”

Emma slid her hands up his back, relishing the solid muscle beneath her palms. “I can handle that.”

“Apparently.” Dylan arched against her as she squeezed his shoulders.

“You stink.” His odor was probably her only saving grace. If he had smelled musky and manly, she might not have been able to control herself. And she wouldn’t have been able to blame it on her pregnancy hormones.

By the time they reached the lodge, she needed another change of clothes. She didn’t want to sit down to dinner smelling like... Dylan. She wanted to make a graceful escape from the back of the snowmobile—unfortunately getting on was easier than getting off. The story of her pregnancy.

After Dylan’s assistance, she managed to break free of him. “Thank you for the ride.” She headed into the lodge. She may have been grateful for the ride, but she was still mad at him.

“Emma, wait.”

She didn’t bother to stop. She’d had enough of Dylan Slade for one day.

Chapter Three

Emma hadn’t realized she’d slept through dinner until she heard a soft knock at the door. If her stomach hadn’t been grumbling, she would’ve ignored it. She couldn’t deal with another minute of Dylan this evening. She checked the peephole, surprised to see Sandy standing in the hallway holding a tray.

She unlocked the door and eased it open. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep.”

“That’s okay. I figured that’s what happened so I brought you dinner. May I come in?” Emma stepped aside as the petite brunette entered the room and set the tray on the small table near the window. “I wanted to apologize for the way I spoke to you earlier. I’m a little frazzled with my Christmas Day wedding coming up. It’s no excuse, though.”

“Believe me, I realize I’m the enemy. We’re on opposite sides. It’s cool. I do hope you have the wedding of your dreams.”

“Thanks.” Sandy tucked a piece of hair behind her ear that had worked its way loose from her French braid. “There’s a little bit of everything on here. If you want more, just ring downstairs. I see Dylan brought you up the Christmas tree. I know he’s a little gruff on the outside, but he really is a big teddy bear once you get to know him.”

“Somehow I don’t think anyone’s going to mistake Dylan for a squishable stuffed animal anytime soon.”

“Then I guess you won’t mind me telling you he was the one who fixed your tray.” Sandy winked as she walked into the hallway. “I live here in the lodge. Extension 307. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, I will.” Emma closed the door.

Dylan fixed her tray? She eyed it warily. “I wonder what he did to it.”

She lifted the plate to remove the plastic wrap and found a folded note.

I’m sorry for earlier.

Dylan.

Well, that was unexpected. The smell of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy got the best of her. And then she saw them...butter beans. He remembered. There was also a huge slab of chocolate cake, macaroni and cheese and a slice of meatloaf. Classic comfort food. She’d never desired it until this very moment. And she planned to eat every ounce of it or explode trying.

Halfway through her meal, her text-message tone sounded from the other side of the table. She’d forgotten to turn her phone back off after calling her best friend, Jennie, to help forget her argument with Dylan. She wanted to ignore it, but she was already full anyway. She reached for her phone and tapped the screen to see a message from her boss.

Conference call tomorrow. 1 p.m. Chicago time. Want update.