Sleigh Bells In Crimson

Western Wedding Bells?

Lucy Renner doesn’t believe in the magic of Christmas or forever after. Yet here she is in holiday-obsessed Crimson, Colorado, for her mother’s fourth walk down the aisle. But it’s the handsome-as-sin cowboy cradling a stray kitten who gets her blood racing! Even if Caden Sharpe is rude, surly and just plain Grinch-like, how can a man who finds homes for unwanted pets be all bad?

These days, former soldier Caden Sharpe is more comfortable with the animals he rescues than people. But now his widowed father is engaged to Lucy’s thrice-divorced mother, and Caden is determined to keep him from making a huge mistake—even as he finds himself falling for the bride-to-be’s lovely daughter. Will Crimson see a last-minute holiday exchange—at the altar?

“I won’t let this wedding happen.”

Caden stalked toward Lucy, crowded her back against the mantel, trying to use his size and his anger to intimidate her.

But he realized his mistake at once. This close the scent of her perfume wound around him and he could see the freckles dotting her cheeks. He wanted to trace his fingers over the pattern they made, feel her softness against his rough skin.

And there was something more. A sorrow in her eyes—a loneliness that called to the empty space inside him and made him feel a little less like the outsider he knew himself to be.

He gave himself a mental head shake when her gaze softened and she swayed toward him. What was it about Lucy Renner that broke through his defenses like they were made of air?

* * *

Crimson, Colorado: Finding home—and forever—in the West

Sleigh Bells in Crimson

Michelle Major

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Michelle Major grew up in Ohio but dreamed of living in the mountains. Soon after graduating with a degree in journalism, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Her life and house are filled with one great husband, two beautiful kids, a few furry pets and several well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her passion writing stories with happy endings. Michelle loves to hear from her readers at www.michellemajor.com.

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To my readers.

I’m honored and grateful that you make a place

for me and the stories I write in your lives.

May your holidays be filled with peace, joy

and so much love! XO

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Lucy Renner pulled her compact rental car to a stop in front of the enormous barn on Sharpe Ranch outside Crimson, Colorado.

If Norman Rockwell and John Denver had looked down from the afterlife to create their perfect town, she figured Crimson would fit the bill to a T. She’d made a pit stop at a local bakery, Life Is Sweet, on her way through the picturesque mountain community. She had been greeted like an old friend even though she felt like an outsider in every way that mattered.

The woman who introduced herself as the shop’s owner, Katie Crawford, had not only added an extra shot to the espresso Lucy ordered but then insisted she sample a fresh-baked cookie, still warm from the oven, all the while asking about Lucy’s visit to Crimson and plans for the holidays.

But as kind as Katie Crawford seemed, Lucy didn’t trust people who were too nice. It meant they wanted something. At least, it did in Lucy’s world. Definitely in her mother’s world, which was why Lucy’s scam radar had gone on high alert when her mom called three days earlier “just to chat.”

Her mother reached out only when she needed something. Despite Lucy’s resolve not to get mixed up in any more of Maureen’s romantic schemes, she’d never been good at saying no.

Now she’d been summoned to the quaint Colorado town that looked like it had puked Christmas cheer all over the place. Much like the rest of downtown Crimson, the bakery had been decorated with festive lights, greenery, ornaments and other vestiges of Christmas, all coming together to make Lucy feel even more grinch-like than normal.

She didn’t do Christmas, didn’t go in for the magic of the season. She’d worked retail long enough to know that Christmas spirit was a ploy to get consumers to part with their hard-earned cash. She’d had plenty of experience as a kid watching her mother make spirits bright in order to further her agenda of the moment. Lucy wanted no part of it any longer. Her plan for the holidays was to survive both the visit and her mother so she could retreat to her boring, quiet life back in Tampa.

Unfolding herself from the car into the biting winter air, she pulled her thin jacket tighter around herself. A two-story farmhouse sat beyond the big barn, situated in the center of a copse of trees, the naked branches swaying in the cold breeze. A cozy stream of smoke rose from the redbrick chimney, and Christmas lights twinkled from a front window as the afternoon light began to gently fade while she stood watching.

She couldn’t quite force herself to face her mother yet, not when Lucy’s life had become collateral damage in the fallout of Maureen’s last romantic catastrophe. Not when she would have to spend the next two weeks playing a role that made her stomach pitch and twist if she couldn’t convince her mom that whatever fantasies she had about being some sort of modern-day frontier wife weren’t going to hold up for the long term.

A startled cry escaped her throat as something brushed against her leg. An orange tabby cat wound its way between her ankles then trotted over to the barn and disappeared through the slightly open door. A soft whinny broke the quiet a moment later, followed by an excited yip. Lucy followed the noises and slipped into the barn. Her mother was expecting her in time for dinner, but she had a few minutes to spare and couldn’t resist exploring.

She’d taken horseback riding lessons briefly as a girl, paid for by her mother’s husband number three. The smell of a barn—the heady mix of hay and animal—had quickly become her favorite scent in the world, and it had broken her heart when she’d had to say goodbye to the leased horse she’d considered hers.

That was when she’d been young and not so careful with her heart, but the smell of the barn still made her happy. It was warmer than she expected thanks to two industrial-sized heaters mounted on the far wall.

This barn was even larger than the one at the farm where she’d taken lessons, with stalls lining either side and a packed dirt floor in between. A horse leaned its head over a stall door and snorted in greeting.

“Hello, there,” she said, glancing around but not seeing any sign of human life inside the barn. “Aren’t you gorgeous?”

The lights were on overhead and to her right was the open door of someone’s office. She peeked her head in at the meticulously ordered desk, but other than stacks of papers, there was nothing in the space to indicate who used it.

Was this the office of her mother’s fiancé, Garrett Sharpe, the wealthy rancher who owned the property? She assumed someone with as many business dealings as Sharpe employed a ranch manager, so maybe the office belonged to that person.

Whoever ran the barn was clearly quite tidy. Even the horse tack hanging on pegs in one corner was lined up evenly. Lucy could barely remember to put her wet towel on a hook after each shower.

She spotted a basket of apples sitting on a shelf outside the office and grabbed one, then moved across the barn toward the horse. She heard the stamp of a hoof, and the animal bobbed its head as if calling her closer. He’d clearly noticed the apple.

She held it out in an open palm and the horse snuffled, then took it from her hand. She slid her fingers along the underside of his jaw and up to his neck, loving the feel of the bristly hair under her hands. A high-pitched bark had her turning her attention to the next stall and, suddenly, as if she’d just been discovered, a cacophony of noise broke out across the barn.

She heard barks and yips and a low, mournful yeowing sound and quickly realized each of the stalls was occupied. There were four more horses and at least a dozen dogs, mostly in pairs. She went from stall to stall, visiting with the animals, reaching through the slats of plank siding to pet the ones that came forward to greet her.

At the end of the row of stalls were two rooms that had been built along the barn’s outer wall, and she held her breath as she carefully opened one door. The walls of the room were lined with wooden hutches, and a myriad of twitchy noses and bright bunny eyes greeted her.

“What kind of ranch is this?” she asked in a hushed whisper, but the bunnies only hopped back and forth in response.

She reached for the other door, curiosity building in her chest. What was next? Llamas? Alpacas?

Cats.

The second room was filled with cats.

Well, not exactly filled, but there were more than she would have expected, and while she was counting, a small black kitten darted out through her legs.

She closed the door and leaned over to pick up the wanderer, but he crawled under a wide wood shelving unit and out of her reach.

Lucy felt like she’d stumbled on something private here, the animal version of a secret garden or some fairy-tale beast’s private castle. She was no Beauty, but whatever this place was or whom it belonged to, she had a feeling she wasn’t supposed to be here without permission.

Still, she couldn’t leave until she saw the kitten safely back to his cat room, so she got down on her hands and knees and peered under the shelf to the corner where the kitten had lodged himself.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” she crooned. The little cat’s green eyes focused on her for a second. Then he lifted a leg and started grooming his man parts, which seemed to interest him far more than she did.

“Time for that later,” she told him and wedged herself farther into the space. “You look too tiny to be away from your mama, little guy.”

“He’s seven weeks,” a deep voice said from behind her. Startled, Lucy both cried out and lifted her head, banging it hard enough on the shelf above her to see stars.

The kitten dashed past as she struggled to wriggle out from where she’d squeezed herself. Head pounding and blinking away tears, she managed to back into the open space of the barn again. Still on her hands and knees, she looked over her shoulder to find the biggest, baddest-looking cowboy she’d ever seen staring down at her with a deep frown.

The wayward kitten was cradled in the crook of his elbow.

She hadn’t heard the man enter the barn but could see the play of light and afternoon shadows from the open door at the far end. Heat colored her cheeks as she realized that the whole time he’d been walking the length of the middle row, she’d been giving him a prime view of the faded jeans that covered her backside.

Way to make a first impression, Lucy.

“Hi,” she said, scrambling to her feet and holding out a hand. “I’m Lucy Renner. I’m—”

“The gold digger’s daughter,” he interrupted in a tone that reminded her of gravel crunching under tires. “You look like her, only not yet as ridden hard and put away wet.”

Lucy felt her mouth drop open as her protective streak exploded like a powder keg. Yes, she had problems with how her mother cycled through men, but this would-be Marlboro man, handsome as sin and clearly twice as dangerous, was way out of line.

The man nudged her out of the way as he opened the door to the cat room and dropped the kitten to the ground. “You’re also trespassing in my barn.”

“You’re rude,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Doesn’t make the words less true.”

Dusting off the front of her jacket, Lucy threw back her shoulders and glared at the man. “I don’t think Mr. Sharpe would appreciate you speaking about his soon-to-be bride that way.”

He started to turn away, and she grabbed his arm, refusing to be intimidated by his hulking physical presence. If there was one thing Lucy could do, it was appear more confident than she was. She had fake conviction to spare, and no way was she allowing some ranch hand to bully her or her mother.

“What’s your name?” she demanded. “I’m going to make sure this is your last day working for Garrett Sharpe.”

The man stared at her fingers, the pink polished nails so out of place on the dull brown canvas of his heavy coat. Then his gaze lifted to hers, those piercing green eyes as hard as granite.

“Caden,” he said so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. “My name is Caden Sharpe. Garrett is my—” he paused as if the word was stuck on his tongue “—my father,” he said after an awkward moment.

“I thought Garrett’s son died a few years ago?” Lucy regretted the question when Caden flinched. Maybe her mother had gotten the story wrong or played fast and loose with the facts to elicit sympathy when she was trying to convince Lucy to make the trip to Colorado.

Family is important to Garrett, her mother had said. He was devastated by his son’s death, and I want to show him I value family the way he does.

“Tyson.” Caden’s lips barely moved as he said the name. “Tyson was my brother.”

Then, as if her touch was physically painful to him, he shrugged it off and stalked away.

Chapter Two

Caden forced himself to walk out of the barn at a measured pace, even though sweat rolled down between his shoulder blades and his hands shook like the leaves of an aspen tree in a strong wind.

He’d been back on the ranch for almost two years and was so used to everyone in town knowing his story that Lucy Renner’s question had caught him off guard.

It brought back all the regrets he had about his relationship with Tyson and how he’d failed the very people to whom he owed his life.

Two years of trying to make up for who he was and who he could never be to Garrett. Trying to keep the old man on track when he would have spiraled into depression after losing his flesh and blood.

A month ago, Garrett had returned from a business trip with Maureen Renner on his arm, a flashy peacock of a woman, so different from Garrett’s first wife, Julia, and ridiculously out of place on the ranch. Caden had been suspicious from the start, and when they’d announced at Thanksgiving that they planned to be married Christmas Day, he’d had no doubt Maureen was more interested in Garrett’s bank account than his life as a high-country rancher.

He had two weeks to convince Garrett to call off the wedding, and nothing was going to stop him from that goal. Certainly not a petite, chestnut-haired beauty who smelled like expensive perfume and looked like she belonged at one of the swanky lounges in neighboring Aspen, rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. She did not belong in Crimson and definitely not in Caden’s world.

His reaction to her had been unexpected and wholly unwelcome. As much as he wanted to blame it on the view she’d inadvertently given him of the most perfectly rounded hips and butt he’d ever seen, there was something more to it than that.

Caden hadn’t felt the powerful pull of attraction in years, not since his desire for a woman had driven a wedge between him and Tyson. Nothing was worth what he’d lost because of love. Or, more likely, it had been lust, which was even worse. Caden had sworn he’d never let another woman affect him that way.

But the immediate wanting—yearning—he’d felt when Lucy lifted those big brown eyes to his had been like an explosion going off in his brain. He didn’t want it, couldn’t handle it, and it only made him more committed to getting Lucy Renner and her mother away from the ranch for good.

His world would undoubtedly be turned upside down by those two women. He had a routine at the ranch—a mostly solitary existence, especially through the winter—that kept him busy. If it weren’t for the barn full of critters that made up his animal-rescue project, Caden could have gone for weeks without seeing anyone but Garrett and the other ranch hands.

In the waning light of afternoon, he checked the outlying cattle troughs, then returned to the barn to feed and water the rescue animals. Lucy’s scent still lingered in the air, and his body hardened in response. He forced the image of her out of his mind, focused on his routine and the animals he cared for. Next weekend he was opening the barn for a pre-Christmas adoption event, and he was way behind on preparations for it.

Erin MacDonald, the kindergarten teacher who also ran an after-school program for kids in the community, had convinced him to work with the local humane society to introduce more people to the animals he rescued. He hadn’t actually planned on running a makeshift animal shelter. Hell, keeping the ranch going was more than a full-time job. But it seemed as though Caden had been collecting strays since he was a boy.

Maybe because he’d been one until Garrett and Tyson had come into his life.

Once he was certain she’d gone to the house, he finished with the animals, taking time to give some attention to each one. He let the dogs out into the big fenced pen connected to the barn to run and play and couldn’t help but smile at their antics.

A light dusting of snow covered the hard ground, and a big storm was forecast for early the following week. Winter on a mountain ranch was a constant battle against the elements and nearby predators, and Caden took seriously the protection of every animal under his care.

Stella, the ranch’s cattle dog, had taken on a maternal role with a few of the younger pups, and she nipped at ankles and herded the group of rescue dogs as they ran through the cold evening air, oblivious to the dropping temperature.

Once he had all the animals safely back in the barn, he headed for the main house. Tension knotted his neck and shoulders with every step. He would have much preferred to hunker down in the bunkhouse as a way of avoiding another run-in with Lucy, but he’d promised Garrett that he’d make an appearance at this family dinner.

Golden light spilled from the windows as he approached the main house. Maureen had hung thick swaths of pine rope from the porch railings, decorated with glittering red bows that seemed to draw more attention to the faded gray siding and dull paint of the black trim. He’d climbed those front porch steps thousands of times over the years, but since Tyson’s death he’d never been able to step foot in the house without regret washing through him.

“It’s about time.” Garrett’s deep voice boomed from the family room as soon as Caden stepped into the house. “Come in here, Caden, and see how Maureen has transformed this place into a winter wonderland.”

Caden sucked in a breath as he entered the family room, with its muted-yellow walls and well-worn furniture. He almost had to shade his eyes at the garish display of Christmas lights strung above the windows and shimmering garland covering the mantel.

“It’s pink,” he said in horror. It looked like a five-year-old girl obsessed with princesses had decorated the space, not a thrice-divorced woman pushing sixty.

His eye caught on the box marked Decorations that he’d brought down from the attic now shoved into one corner. That box held all the decorations he, Garrett and Tyson had used each year. There were ornaments whittled out of tree branches from the woods on the ranch’s south border, along with the small nativity set Tyson’s mother had painstakingly painted the year before her cancer diagnosis.

Caden had come to live on the ranch only months after Julia Sharpe’s death, and although he’d never met her, he’d felt her presence like a warm blanket at night. In the twenty years since Julia’s death, little had changed in the house from how she’d arranged it.

Until Maureen Renner descended on Sharpe Ranch.

“Mom loves pink,” Lucy offered from where she stood just inside the room. Color was high on her cheeks. If Garrett didn’t know better, he would have guessed she was as put off by the whole display as he was.

“It’s a vibrant color,” Maureen purred, nuzzling Garrett’s shoulder and tracing a manicured hand over his heart. “Bright and alive. This place needed some life breathed back into it.”

Caden’s adoptive father chuckled as he grinned at Caden. “I suppose you and I have gotten set in our ways living the bachelor life out here. We need a little infusion of spark and color, right?”

“Where the hell do you even find pink Christmas decorations?” Caden asked the room in general.

Garrett laughed again and Maureen darted a dismissive glance toward Caden, then beamed at her daughter. “Remember all the years we decorated for Christmas? You loved putting the star on the tree.”

Lucy made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a gag, then cleared her throat. “Sure, Mom. But you’re missing a tree.”

Maureen opened her mouth but Caden spoke first. “Dad and I will cut one down next weekend.” No way in hell was he giving that woman a chance to bring in some fake tree covered in more gaudy lights.

“About that, son.” Garrett smiled gently. “Maureen hasn’t had much luck finding a wedding dress around here, so I’m going to fly her to New York City for a few days to do some prewedding shopping.”

“What?” Caden and Lucy spoke at the same time.

“I need to put together my trousseau,” Maureen said, planting a smacking kiss on his father’s mouth, “and pick out something special for our honeymoon.”

“It’s your fourth marriage. What the hell could you possibly need?” Caden pinned the overly made-up woman with a look that let her know exactly what he thought of her, not that it was any secret.

“Caden.” Garrett’s voice was a warning growl. Caden had heard the tone enough growing up. He’d always been a button pusher and for years had more temper than sense. Tyson had been the one to soften his sharp edges. His brother was always good-natured and smiling. Up until the one fateful argument that had severed their bond.

He wondered what Tyson would have thought about Maureen Renner and her tempting daughter. Well, he could guess what Tyson would have thought about Lucy. She was the type of woman to make a man melt into a puddle at her feet with one glance.