A Rancher's Christmas

Chapter Two

Zach gathered with the entire Arnett family, dogs included, in the living room of Lucky’s house. They’d asked him to help play host to a steady stream of visitors, including the four members of the ranch crew and their families who stayed on during winter.

Lucky hadn’t even been dead forty-eight hours, but that didn’t stop the well-meaning townspeople. They brought food, offered solace and shared stories about the old rancher.

A cheerful fire danced in the fireplace, at odds with the occasion, and the little room was almost too warm. None of the Arnetts seemed to mind the heat or the company. Zach was grateful for the support and for their acceptance of him, no questions asked. It was a good thing because he wasn’t about to air his dirty laundry to anyone. Only Lucky had known the truth.

From that first day Zach had drifted into town nearly three years ago, lost and broken, the people of Saddlers Prairie had welcomed him. Zach hadn’t planned on staying, had only known that he needed to get out of Houston and start fresh someplace else. The big sky, rolling prairies and wide-open spaces of Montana had appealed to him, and the welcome mat in Saddlers Prairie had pulled him in.

In need of money—he was damned if he’d touch his bank account—he’d applied for work at the Lucky A. He hadn’t known squat about ranching, but Lucky had taken a chance on him and offered him a job. Wanting the rancher to know what kind of man he was first, Zach had told him the whole sorry story of the commercial real-estate company he’d built and his subsequent downfall, sparing none of the ugly details.

Lucky had accepted him anyway and advised him to put the past behind him. Zach had done just that. He’d learned the ranching business and had soon become Lucky’s foreman. The successful CEO he’d once been and the beautiful woman he’d been engaged to seemed like part of someone else’s life.

Clay Hollyer, also a transplant and a former bull-riding champion who now worked as a rancher supplying stock to rodeos around the West, wandered toward Zach. His pretty wife, Sarah, pregnant with their first child, was at his side.

The couple offered their condolences. “What will you do now?” Clay asked.

The near future was a no-brainer. “Someone needs to take care of the ranch, so I’ll be staying at the Lucky A for a while.”

After that, Zach had no idea—except that he wanted to stay in town. His father and stepmother thought he was out of his mind for living in a trailer on a run-down ranch and working for peanuts when he didn’t have to. But Zach had learned to draw happiness from the little things in life and, for now, he was content.

He glanced around for Gina. She was standing to the side of the fireplace, beautiful and animated as she chatted with people.

Make that he used to be content.

Now that Zach had met Gina, keeping his promise to Lucky and convincing her to hold on to the Lucky A seemed even more of a Sisyphean task than he’d thought. He seriously doubted that Gina would give up her career to run the Lucky A, but if he could at least convince her to keep the ranch in the family... That was what Lucky really wanted, for her to pass it down to her heirs—that was, if she had children one day.

She seemed so driven that Zach didn’t know if she wanted kids. She sure was good with Bit and Sugar, though. The two dogs seemed wild about her, too. Bit, a Jack Russell, pranced around her, and Sugar, a white, sixty-pound husky, wagged her tail nonstop. Both of them hovered close and gazed at her adoringly, which said something about her.

Locals and transplants seemed to want to be around her, too. A group of women, some of whom she’d probably known growing up, surrounded her. Among them were Meg Dawson and her sister-in-law, Jenny Dawson, and Autumn Naylor, who were all married to ranchers, and Stacy Engle, who was the wife of Dr. Mark Engle, the sole doctor in Saddlers Prairie.

As engaged as Gina appeared to be, Zach noticed her yawn a few times. After spending the whole day traveling, she had to be exhausted. It had been a tough couple of days, and Zach fought the drowsies himself. Without thinking about it, he moved toward her. Her friends offered condolences to Zach before wandering off.

“You doing okay?” he asked, leaning in close to be heard over the noise in the room. He caught a whiff of perfume, something sweet and floral that reminded him of hot tropical nights.

“I’m managing. I found out from Stacy that you’re the one who found Uncle Lucky yesterday. What exactly happened?”

Zach didn’t like talking about it. “Lucky was supposed to meet me at the back pasture first thing in the morning. When he didn’t show and didn’t answer his phone, I came here, to the house, looking for him.”

“And you found him still in bed. Uncle Redd mentioned that Uncle Lucky had a heart attack, but he didn’t tell me about you finding him.” Gina shuddered. “That must’ve been awful.”

“Not the best way to start your day.” Zach grimaced. “The only good part of it is knowing that Lucky was asleep when he died and didn’t suffer. We should all be so lucky.”

“Pun intended?” she asked, her mouth hinting at a smile.

“No, but what the heck.” Zach grinned.

He liked Gina. He couldn’t help himself. Not just because she was easy to look at. She also cared about her family and the people in this house. They seemed genuinely pleased to see her, and she acted as if the feeling was mutual.

She fit in well here. She belonged. Did she know how special that was?

“Do you ever see yourself moving back to Saddlers Prairie?” he asked, feeling her out.

“Are you kidding?” She let out a humorless laugh. “I’m staying through Thanksgiving, period. One week from Sunday, I’ll be on a flight back to Chicago. I hope—”

“I’m glad you two are getting a chance to know each other,” Gina’s cousin Gloria said as she and her sister Sophie squeezed past several people to join the two of them.

Both gray haired with sharp, brown eyes, their faces looked so much alike, they could’ve been twins. That was where the resemblance stopped.

Gloria, bigger boned and taller than Sophie by a good four inches, patted his arm. “Isn’t Zach wonderful?”

Sophie, who was two years younger than Gloria and soft around the middle, fluttered her lashes at him. “I hope you’re getting enough to eat, Zach. There’s a ton more food in the kitchen.”

“I’ve had a plate or two, thanks.”

“That’s good.” Sophie turned to Gina with a fond smile. “You’re so thin, cookie. Did you eat?”

“I’ve been nibbling.” Gina yawned.

Gloria gave her sister a dirty look. “You don’t look too thin to me, sweetie. You’re just right. Tomorrow will be a busy day. You have an early afternoon meeting with Matt Granger, Lucky’s attorney. He’ll give you a list of errands like you had had when your mother passed—stopping at the bank and so forth. You’ll also want to make calls to cancel Lucky’s health insurance and Social Security, any subscriptions he had and who knows what else.”

Sophie frowned. “Don’t burden her with all that now. She’s exhausted, aren’t you, cookie?” She grinned at Zach. “I call her ‘cookie’ because I could just eat her up!”

“You’ll eat anything,” Gloria muttered. “Land sakes, Sophie, she isn’t a child anymore.”

Used to the bickering, Zach glanced at Gina and saw her smother a smile.

“Now, now,” Gina soothed, hooking her arms through her elderly cousins’. “Remember what’s happened. And don’t refer to me in the third person.”

“All right, sweetie. Excuse us a moment, Zach.” Gloria pulled Gina away from Sophie, speaking loudly enough that anyone within ten feet could hear. “What I was trying to say before she—” Gloria jerked her chin Sophie’s way “—so rudely interrupted, is that tomorrow you’ll be going nonstop, and you should probably get some sleep.”

“We have guests, and I don’t want to be rude.”

“Yes, but you traveled all day, and it’s an hour later in Chicago. People will understand, and they all know they’ll see you again at the funeral. Zach and the rest of us will hold down the fort.”

Sophie nodded. “We made up the guest bedroom you always use and put fresh towels in the bathroom for you.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t worry about Lucky’s bedding. We disposed of it, so you won’t have to. We wish you could stay with us, but we don’t have the room. Unless you want to sleep on the living room couch...”

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I think I will go upstairs in a minute.”

After saying good-night to everyone and exchanging hugs and tears, she bent down to pat the dogs. They licked her and then trotted over to Uncle Redd.

“Thanks again for picking me up tonight,” she told Zach. “I worried about Uncle Redd driving all that way, especially in the dark. I offered to rent a car, but you know how stubborn he is.”

“Stubbornness seems to be an Arnett family trait.” Zach’s mouth quirked again, and Gina smiled. “If you can’t sleep tonight and need company, give me a call. My trailer is just across the ranch.”

“Good to know, but I’m so tired I’ll probably fall asleep the second my head hits the pillow. Although if we didn’t have a houseful of guests tonight, I’d take Uncle Redd’s car and drive to the hotspot near the post office and check my email, just to make sure my assistant survived without me today.” Gina yawned so hard, her eyes watered. “She hasn’t called, so I guess she did. I’ll call her in the morning.”

Zach thought about telling her to blow off work and take care of herself instead, but he doubted she’d listen. He ought to know—three years ago, he’d been just like her. Probably even worse.

He nodded. “Sleep tight.”

“And don’t let the bedbugs bite? When I was a little girl, Uncle Lucky used to say that when I spent the night here. Good night, Zach.”

He watched her trudge up the stairs, moving as if she was beyond weary. It was going to be a rough ten days.

* * *

USED TO WAKING up early, Gina opened her eyes after a sound sleep. At first she had no idea where she was. It was still dark outside, but she could make out the faded curtains and old blinds pulled over the window and feel the lumpy mattress. She was in the small, plain guestroom she thought of as hers at Uncle Lucky’s ranch.

But Uncle Lucky was gone.

Bleary-eyed but feeling oddly rested, she stumbled out of bed. The chattering of the guests downstairs had lulled her to sleep, and she had actually slept though the night. No tossing and turning, no waking up and worrying. Which was surprising, but Gina wasn’t going to question her good luck.

She peered through the blinds. Sometime during the night, a few inches of snow had fallen. It wasn’t enough to cause problems, but it blanketed the rolling fields in white.

Uncle Lucky’s house was old and outdated, but thanks to storm windows and a working furnace, it was reasonably warm. So different from Gina’s childhood home, where winters meant shivering from the second she crawled out of bed until she climbed back in under the covers at night.

It wasn’t exactly the Ritz here, but at least everything was in working order. Uncle Redd could move in without doing any repairs or updates, which would suit him fine. None of the Arnetts enjoyed spending money without a good reason. Gina had a very good reason for spending hers—to be successful, she had to look the part.

Still in a sleep fog, she padded to the bathroom. A shower helped shake out the cobwebs, and once she fixed her hair and applied makeup, she felt much better. Knowing she would be meeting with the attorney that afternoon and not wanting to have to change clothes later, she dressed in a cream cashmere sweater set and gray slacks, a stunning outfit purchased on credit at Neiman Marcus. Sliding her feet into her slippers, she headed downstairs.

Now that the visitors had all left, the little house was eerily silent. Much too quiet, but at the moment, Gina’s main concern was coffee.

As a child, she’d spent every summer here, and she knew her way around her uncle’s cluttered kitchen. Now cakes, pies and breads filled every spare bit of counter space, but some kind soul had cleaned up last night and run Uncle Lucky’s portable dishwasher. Gina unhooked it from the faucet and wheeled it to its place against the wall, bypassing a stack of old newspapers that probably went back five years. Those had to go, but not just now. Coffee. She needed coffee.

Uncle Lucky had always preferred the no-frills stuff, and his coffeemaker was the kind that percolated on the stove and took its sweet time. Compared to the state-of-the-art coffee and espresso maker at Gina’s condo, it seemed primitive.

Not that she made her own coffee often. In Chicago, she could run down the street and pick up an espresso at any number of places. But Saddlers Prairie didn’t have many options. Barb’s Café was nearly a five-mile drive from the ranch, and the Burger Palace, a fast-food place, was almost ten. Neither was open for business this early. She was stuck with Uncle Lucky’s generic brand.

While the coffee brewed, Gina cut herself a thick slab of cinnamon-raisin bread. She popped it into the toaster and waited. Without Wi-Fi, she wasn’t able to check her email and felt lost. She did have a text from Carrie. The rollout of the Grant Holiday Magic campaign had gone as smoothly as Gina had hoped, which was good news. Carrie didn’t mention the other clients, and Gina assumed that all was well.

Her assistant’s personal news was interesting. She texted she’d gone with friends to a bar after work on Tuesday and had met someone. He’d asked her to go out for dinner with him on Wednesday, and she had been about to leave for her date as soon as she fired off the report with the campaign’s numbers. Gina would stop at the Wi-Fi hotspot and read the report later.

At least one of them was dating. Gina texted back a thanks for the info and asked about the dinner date.

She didn’t need to talk to her assistant this morning, but she was used to being busy all the time, and the lack of rushing around and accomplishing things was unnerving. She dialed the office.

“Hi, Marsha, it’s Gina,” she told the receptionist. “Please put me through to Carrie.”

“She hasn’t come in yet.”

Gina checked her watch. It was after nine in Chicago, well past time to start the workday. “Where is she?”

“Well, she had that dinner date last night. Maybe she stayed out late and overslept.”

Not a good sign.

“Wait, I just remembered something,” Marsha said. “On her way out last night, she mentioned something about stopping at some of the Grant department stores today. Maybe she’s at a store right now.”

Conducting a visual check. That made sense. Gina let out a relieved breath—and then wondered what she had been worried about. Carrie was a younger version of herself. As eager as she was to move up the corporate ladder, she wouldn’t blow this.

“I’ve been thinking about you and your family,” Marsha said with sympathy. “How are you doing?”

“It’s not easy, but I’m managing,” she said and gave Marsha a few details. “Will you have Carrie call me when she comes in?”

Gina disconnected and made a mental list of what she needed to do this morning. She would start with compiling Uncle Lucky’s bank statements and legal documents so that she could take them to the meeting with the attorney. Her uncle’s office was even more cluttered than the kitchen, and finding what she needed wouldn’t be easy.

She also thought about the funeral tomorrow and all that entailed. Her family expected her to give the eulogy, which she’d started to write in bed last night. Gina didn’t plan on taking up too much time because other people also planned to speak, but she still needed to hone her speech and practice it.

At some point she needed to sort through the old papers and junk her uncle had collected. And he’d collected piles of both.

Suddenly, she felt even more tired than she had yesterday. Last night, more than a few people had offered to help her with whatever she needed. After she sorted through everything, she would take some of them up on the offer and ask for help hauling things to the dump or the nearest charity bin.

For now, clearing out the clutter would keep her busy.

At last, the coffee was ready. It didn’t smell very good, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She filled a chipped mug and searched the aging fridge for milk.

Casseroles, cheese plates and all kinds of food crammed the shelves. Thanks to the kind people of Saddlers Prairie, there was enough food in there to feed a small army. Even with Uncle Redd, Gloria and Sophie helping her eat it, there were enough meals to last until Thanksgiving.

She took her buttered toast and coffee to the table and sat down. Maybe Zach would help them eat some of this stuff.

Zach. Now there was a man. He was big and super good-looking—every girl’s dream cowboy.

Gina frowned and reminded herself that she wasn’t into cowboys. She liked ambitious men in well-tailored suits. She hadn’t met the right one yet, but she had no doubt that, in time, she would.

The coffee tasted awful. If she hadn’t needed the caffeine so badly she’d dump it down the drain. She was revising her eulogy and picking at her toast when someone knocked at the back door.

Pathetically eager for company, she jumped up and hurried to open it. Zach stood on the stoop, his face ruddy from the cold. Against the backdrop of the blue sky, his hair looked almost black and his eyes were the color of liquid silver. His heavy parka was unzipped, revealing a flannel shirt tucked into jeans.

“Morning,” he said, his breath fogging in the cold air. “I finished the chores and thought you might want company.”

How had he known?

“Sure.” She widened the door. “Come in.”

After wiping his boots on the mat he stepped inside, bringing a whiff of fresh air with him. “It’s cold out there,” he said, blowing on his hands.

“It’s nice and warm in here.”

As Zach shrugged out of his parka and hung it on one of the hooks along the wall near the door, Gina couldn’t help admiring his broad shoulders, narrow hips and long legs.

He caught her staring. His mouth quirked and he raised his eyebrows.

It was a good thing she didn’t blush easily. “I was wondering whether I should offer you coffee,” she said. “Lucky’s coffeemaker is older than I am, and this stuff tastes pretty bad. But there’s plenty to eat if you’re hungry.”

Zach glanced at what was left of her toast. “That looks good.”

“I’ll slice some for you.”

She started to stand, but Zach gestured for her to stay seated. “Relax—I’ll get it myself. I met the woman who made that bread when she brought it by yesterday. Her name is Cora Mullins, and she went to grade school with Lucky.”

He pulled a plate from the cupboard as if he was family. From the way Uncle Lucky had sung his praises, she knew he’d thought of him that way.

“May as well try the coffee, too,” he said, grabbing a mug.

A few minutes later, he joined her at the kitchen table. He sipped cautiously. “Compared to the sludge Lucky makes—made—this isn’t half bad.”

He made a face that coaxed a smile from Gina. “Believe me, I tasted his coffee several times,” she said. “I’m surprised I didn’t sprout hair on my chest.”

Zach’s gaze darted to her breasts. Interest flared in his eyes and her body jumped to life. Maybe he wasn’t her type, but she sure was attracted to him.

He glanced at her pad and paper. “Don’t tell me you’re working.”

“I was trying to revise what I want to say at the funeral.” She bit her lip. “But thinking about that makes me sad.”

“Talk about Lucky’s coffee. That’ll get a smile out of everyone.”

She hadn’t thought of using humor. “Smiling through the tears—I like it.”

Zach wolfed down the bread, obviously famished from whatever he’d been doing outside. “Before I forget, here’s the key to Lucky’s truck.” He raised his hip and set the key and her uncle’s rabbit foot keychain on the table. “He logged over a hundred and seventy thousand miles on it but maintained the engine beautifully. It runs great, but it’s a stick shift and doesn’t have power steering. Think you can handle that?”

She scoffed. “I learned to drive in that truck.”

“No kidding! So Lucky gave you driving lessons?”

When she nodded, Zach shook his head and chuckled, a nice sound that brightened up the gray morning. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

“The man was hell on wheels, pushing the truck so hard, it’s a wonder he didn’t burn up the engine he took such care with. I was picturing you with the pedal to the metal and the truck churning up clouds of dust. I’ll bet Lucky got a big kick out of that.”

“Especially when I pushed the speed up to sixty—which was about as fast as the old truck could go.” She smiled at the memory. “I was fourteen, too young for a driver’s license, but Uncle Lucky said I needed to learn in case of an emergency. He took me out on a few deserted roads where the sheriff wouldn’t spot us and there were no other cars for me to hit.

“I spent most every summer with him while my parents worked at fairs around the state, trying to drum up business,” she added.