Rancher's Covert Christmas

Zane tapped a few keys on his computer, closing programs, and turned off his monitor. When he faced her, he turned up his palms and shrugged. “This is life on a ranch. We’re all on call 24/7.”

Erin stood and flipped her notepad closed. “Understood. No worries. We’ll continue this some other time.” She studied Zane as he stacked and straightened files on his desk, put away his pen and calculator in a drawer and pushed his chair under the desk. So orderly and neat. Her brother, Sean, an engineering student at the time of his death, had been the same way. She could still hear Sean saying, “A place for everything, and everything in its place.”

“Question?” she said as Zane took his gray cowboy hat from a hook made from bull horns by the office door.

“Okay.” He motioned with his hand for her to precede him out the door.

“When the call—or should I say the text?—came in just now about the trouble with the fence, I felt the mood shift in the room. Everyone tensed.”

He nodded, his expression flat. “For all of us to get a text at the same time is a bad sign. It means there’s trouble.” After a slight hesitation, he amended, “Usually.”

“I get that,” she said as they walked down the hall together. His broad shoulders filled the space between the walls where family pictures and shadow boxes with ribbons and medals had been hung. She wanted to spend more time in this hall with the old photos and awards, but Zane ushered her forward. “My question is this—when you read the text, instead of worry or frustration, like I saw on your siblings’ faces, you looked...relieved.”

Zane snapped his gaze toward her. “I did?”

“That’s how it seemed to me.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed as he stared at her. His brow furrowed, and his lips set in a taut line. While he was every bit as handsome as his twin, his more serious countenance and the lines of stress etched around his eyes made him appear older than his siblings.

“I suppose I was,” he said finally as he continued down the corridor. He sidetracked briefly to the foyer to retrieve Erin’s coat and hold it for her as she slipped her arms in the sleeves.

“Thanks,” she said, smiling and adding another mental tick mark in the “gentleman” column for Zane.

She followed him through the kitchen and into the mudroom where he paused to toe off his athletic shoes and jam his feet into a pair of well-worn boots, saying, “Considering everything that’s been happening around here lately, I guess I was glad the news wasn’t anything worse. Loose cows and a broken fence we can handle. It happens now and then. Nothing new.” He exhaled a sigh as they stepped out into the winter chill, and his breath clouded. “The news just as easily could have been another disaster because of our saboteur, or a problem with my dad’s health, or bad news from the hospital about Dave, or—”

She grabbed his arm, stopping his progress across the ranch yard. “First, have you ever heard the expression ‘borrowing trouble’?”

He nodded. “I know. It’s a bad habit...especially lately.” He dragged a hand down his face and gave her weak smile of chagrin.

A pang of sympathy prodded her chest, and she had to remind herself that her job required her to stay as unaffected emotionally as she could. She didn’t have a heart of stone, but to judge people fairly and accurately, she couldn’t let her personal feelings sway her perspective. “Second, where’s your coat?”

He hitched a thumb at one of the outbuildings. “I have a work coat in the stable.”

“Well.” She took a step backward and motioned toward the area where she saw Josh mounting his horse and riding out. “Don’t let me keep you.”

Touching the brim of his hat, he turned and took a couple steps before returning. “Erin?”

“Mmm-hmm?”

He screwed his mouth into a frown of consternation. “I don’t want the incident this morning or the tension you saw in my office earlier to affect your research.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Easy there, cowboy. That sounds a bit like you’re about to try to censor my work.”

His brow dented, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “That’s not what I meant. Although...ideally, I’d like your article not to be a laundry list of all the troubles we’ve had of late. That’d hardly be a sales pitch.”

“I told you before, and I’ll say it again, the integrity of my work requires no interference from the subject of my writing. My intent is not to sabotage your—” He flinched at her word choice. “Sorry. I’m not out to hurt your business. Trust me to do my job, okay?”

He hunched his shoulders against the cold as a chilly breeze buffeted them. A shiver sluiced through Erin, as well, but for a different reason. Every time she had to defend her work as a supposed journalist, she cringed internally. She could feel herself sinking deeper into a quagmire of deceit that dragged at her soul. Asking him to trust her, even as she led him to believe falsehoods about her, rankled.

He made a noncommittal sound in his throat. “What I meant was...I want you to have every opportunity to talk with the family, interview us, hear about our history, learn the business, get a close-up, inside view of the daily operations...despite the fact that we’ll be operating shorthanded. That, more than the troubling incidents that have put us on our heels, is what defines my family and this ranch.”

She raised her chin. “Oh,” she said awkwardly. She flashed him a lopsided smile. “Looks like I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have presumed...” She bit her bottom lip, letting her sentence trail off. Was she already letting herself be swayed by Zane’s serious disposition? Was she overcompensating because she found him so attractive and such an enigma at the same time?

The taut lines in his expression eased. “How about a mutual agreement to extend some trust, the benefit of the doubt?”

She released a deep breath, her grin warming. “Agreed.”

“In that spirit then...” He shivered visibly and jammed his hands deeper into his pockets. With the wind stirring, he had to be freezing. “How would you like to come with me and help round up escaped cattle?”

Erin gave a startled laugh. “Me?”

“It doesn’t get any realer than broken fences and rounding up a straying herd.”

She only hesitated a second before throwing her hands up with a snort of amusement. “Why not?”

“Good. This way.” He hitched his head toward the outbuilding where she’d seen Josh earlier. “You want a horse or an ATV?”

Falling in step beside him, she wrinkled her nose at his question. “An ATV? That’s not very Americana. Cowboys are supposed to ride horses.”

“It’s the new Americana. More efficient in many cases, and you don’t have to muck an ATV’s stall or pay for vet bills and feed. Every ranch I know is using some form of motorized vehicle these days.”

They reached the outbuilding, and as they stepped inside, the scent of manure and straw grew stronger. As her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light inside, she scanned the long aisle of stalls where a few horses hung their heads over their gates, snuffling and flicking their ears.

While Zane pulled on a coat he’d retrieved from a hook just inside the main door, she walked over to one of the horses and raised a hand to pat its nose. “Hi, beautiful. How are you?”

“So what do you think?” He eyed her as he buttoned the coat, which she saw was stained with Lord-only-knew-what, along with a liberal amount of dust and dried mud. No wonder he kept it in the stable.

“I’ll save the ATV for another day and try a horse...if that’s okay?”

He nodded and pursed his lips in thought. “I’d recommend Lucy for you. That’s who Kate rides.”

“Kate?” She flipped through her mental Rolodex, working to recall if she’d met Kate yet.

“Josh’s fiancée. She’s still learning to ride, and Lucy is one of our gentlest.” Zane had taken a saddle and reins from a rack and entered the first stall on the left. He stroked the neck of the large black horse in the stall, and the animal responded with a snuffle, nudging Zane with its nose. “Hey, Sarge. Time to work.”

Zane’s phone beeped, and he paused long enough to check it. Muttering a curse, he glanced back at Erin. “That was Roy. I need to hurry. The herd got spooked, and they need me ASAP. I really don’t have time to saddle Lucy for you. Rain check?”

Erin’s heart sank, but she tried to hide her disappointment. “Sure.”

As she turned to leave, he called, “Unless you wanted to ride double with me.”

Walking back to the gate of the stall, she licked her lips and weighed the option. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I weren’t. But I need an answer now. Those loose cows are getting near a dangerous area in the hills, even as we speak.” Zane slid the bit into the black horse’s mouth and adjusted the reins while he talked.

“Okay. Am I dressed all right?” She held her hands out and dropped her gaze to her jeans, winter coat and low-heeled suede boots.

“Cows don’t care about fashion,” he said, not even looking as he tossed a blanket over the horse’s back.