Her Holiday Rancher

“He’ll drive, but I’m damn well going with him.”

It was the best she could hope for. Her father was a stubborn old fool when he set his mind to something. Like not telling anyone about his Parkinson’s. How long could he realistically expect to keep hiding his disease? He was starting to show symptoms, and people were becoming suspicious. Like Enrico, who’d worked for the McGraws since before Reese had left.

“Fine.” What choice did she have, short of telling Enrico? And her father would never forgive her for that. He was a proud man. “See you when you get here.”

“Be careful, honey.”

Reese glanced at Gabe, then chided herself. Of course, her father was referring to General. She had nothing to worry about from Gabe, who was scrutinizing her every move with those compelling eyes of his.

She said goodbye and disconnected the call. Returning to the weary horse, she gave his neck a loving stroke.

Eying Gabe, she said, “You’d better hurry if you want to get home before dark.”

“I’ll wait until your ride gets here.”

“It could be a while.”

Truthfully, she had no idea how long her father and Enrico would be. She was simply providing Gabe with an excuse to leave.

“I have time.”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “The house is filled with food.”

She could well imagine. As expected, friends and family had stopped by, dropping off casseroles, covered dishes and baked goods as they paid their respects. Food and funerals seemed to go together.

“Are you?” Gabe asked. “Hungry?”

“A little.” Between the service this morning, caring for her father and worrying about tomorrow’s reading of the will, she’d missed lunch.

Riding General hadn’t been solely to exercise the barn-bound horse. She’d needed a mental vacation in the worst way.

“Mostly I’m cold,” she added.

Gabe dismounted, unbuckled the saddlebag and reached inside. A moment later, he produced a yellow rain poncho and a small, rectangular object she couldn’t quite make out.

“Here.” He approached her, his stride confident and, she had to admit, sexy.

A small thrill wound through her. She blamed the stressful events of the day. It couldn’t possibly be attraction. To Gabe Dempsey? No way.

“Here.” He shook out the rain poncho, removed her hat and placed the poncho over her head.

“I don’t need—”

“Shut up, Reese.” He replaced her hat and fastened the top snap on the poncho, the one beneath her chin. “It’ll help keep you warm.”

The thrill turned into a flush as his fingers brushed her exposed skin. Who needed a poncho when Gabe’s proximity was enough to warm her from the inside?

“O...kay.” Please don’t let him notice the effect he was having on her.

“Here.” He lifted her hand and pressed the object he’d taken from the saddlebag into it. “Enjoy.”

She stared at the energy bar. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because...”

“You’re as stubborn as your father.” A smile touched his lips.

She thought it might be his first one in days or even weeks. Nothing could be worse than losing a loved one.

“I’ll eat this,” she said, “but only if we share.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Miss McGraw.”

He hadn’t seen anything yet. Just wait until they butted heads over his father’s estate.

Ripping open the wrapper, she removed the energy bar and broke it in half.

He accepted the piece, his fingers brushing hers. Was it intentional? She wouldn’t put it past him. Gabe had always been a ladies’ man, starting in high school. She was surprised he’d reached the age of thirty without some woman snapping him up.

Then again, no one had snapped up Reese, either, though she’d come close once. Perhaps Gabe was like her, married to his work.

They didn’t speak while they ate. Reese stared up the road. No sign of her father yet. When she was done with her half of the energy bar, she checked again on General, then returned to Gabe, pulling the poncho closer around her.

“Still cold?” Gabe asked.

“A little.”

“We could huddle for warmth.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

His smile returned. “I don’t bite, Reese.”

Sweet heaven, he was gorgeous. “I’m fine.” She was not letting Gabe touch her, much less hold her.

Headlights appeared in the distance, about a mile up the road. Reese released a long sigh. As assistant manager of Southern Arizona Bank, it was her job, her duty, to conduct herself professionally and impersonally with the Dempsey family. Huddling with Gabe, even for warmth in extreme weather conditions, wasn’t either of those things.

She waved as the truck and trailer neared. “Dad’s here. You don’t have to stay.”

“All right,” he said, his tone unreadable, and mounted the mare.

“What about your poncho?”

“Keep it.” Gabe tugged on the brim of his cowboy hat. “See you around.”