Diana Palmer Christmas Collection: The Rancher / Christmas Cowboy / A Man of Means / True Blue / Carrera's Bride / Will of Steel / Winter Roses

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

A Man of Means

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

The Rancher (#u26770d66-cfa2-51aa-aa50-1e7a88d9e45b)

Chapter One (#u26770d66-cfa2-51aa-aa50-1e7a88d9e45b)

Maddie Lane was worried. She was standing in her big yard, looking at her chickens, and all she saw was a mixture of hens. There were red ones and white ones and gray speckled ones. But they were all hens. Someone was missing: her big Rhode Island Red rooster, Pumpkin.

She knew where he likely was. It made her grind her teeth together. There was going to be trouble, again, and she was going to be on the receiving end of it.

She pushed back her short, wavy blond hair and grimaced. Her wide gray eyes searched the yard, hoping against hope that she was mistaken, that Pumpkin had only gone in search of bugs, not cowboys.

“Pumpkin?” she called loudly.

Great-Aunt Sadie came to the door. She was slight and a little dumpy, with short, thin gray hair, wearing glasses and a worried look.

“I saw him go over toward the Brannt place, Maddie,” she said as she moved out onto the porch. “I’m sorry.”

Maddie groaned aloud. “I’ll have to go after him. Cort will kill me!”

“Well, he hasn’t so far,” Sadie replied gently. “And he could have shot Pumpkin, but he didn’t…”

“Only because he missed!” Maddie huffed. She sighed and put her hands on her slim hips. She had a boyish figure. She wasn’t tall or short, just sort of in the middle. But she was graceful, for all that. And she could work on a ranch, which she did. Her father had taught her how to raise cattle, how to market them, how to plan and how to budget. Her little ranch wasn’t anything big or special, but she made a little money. Things had been going fine until she decided she wanted to branch out her organic egg-laying business and bought Pumpkin after her other rooster was killed by a coyote, along with several hens. But now things weren’t so great financially.

Maddie had worried about getting a new rooster. Her other one wasn’t really vicious, but she did have to carry a tree branch around with her to keep from getting spurred. She didn’t want another aggressive one.

“Oh, he’s gentle as a lamb,” the former owner assured her. “Great bloodlines, good breeder, you’ll get along just fine with him!”

Sure, she thought when she put him in the chicken yard and his first act was to jump on her foreman, old Ben Harrison, when he started to gather eggs.

“Better get rid of him now,” Ben had warned as she doctored the cuts on his arms the rooster had made even through the fabric.

“He’ll settle down, he’s just excited about being in a new place,” Maddie assured him.

Looking back at that conversation now, she laughed. Ben had been right. She should have sent the rooster back to the vendor in a shoebox. But she’d gotten attached to the feathered assassin. Sadly, Cort Brannt hadn’t.

Cort Matthew Brannt was every woman’s dream of the perfect man. He was tall, muscular without making it obvious, cultured, and he could play a guitar like a professional. He had jet-black hair with a slight wave, large dark brown eyes and a sensuous mouth that Maddie often dreamed of kissing.

The problem was that Cort was in love with their other neighbor, Odalie Everett. Odalie was the daughter of big-time rancher Cole Everett and his wife, Heather, who was a former singer and songwriter. She had two brothers, John and Tanner. John still lived at home, but Tanner lived in Europe. Nobody talked about him.

Odalie loved grand opera. She had her mother’s clear, beautiful voice and she wanted to be a professional soprano. That meant specialized training.

Cort wanted to marry Odalie, who couldn’t see him for dust. She’d gone off to Italy to study with some famous voice trainer. Cort was distraught and it didn’t help that Maddie’s rooster kept showing up in his yard and attacking him without warning.

“I can’t understand why he wants to go all the way over there to attack Cort,” Maddie said aloud. “I mean, we’ve got cowboys here!”

“Cort threw a rake at him the last time he came over here to look at one of your yearling bulls,” Sadie reminded her.

“I throw things at him all the time,” Maddie pointed out.

“Yes, but Cort chased him around the yard, picked him up by his feet, and carried him out to the hen yard to show him to the hens. Hurt his pride,” Sadie continued. “He’s getting even.”

“You think so?”

“Roosters are unpredictable. That particular one,” she added with a bite in her voice that was very out of character, “should have been chicken soup!”

“Great-Aunt Sadie!”

“Just telling you the way it is,” Sadie huffed. “My brother—your granddaddy—would have killed him the first time he spurred you.”

Maddie smiled. “I guess he would. I don’t like killing things. Not even mean roosters.”

“Cort would kill him for You if he could shoot straight,” Sadie said with veiled contempt. “You load that .28 gauge shotgun in the closet for me, and I’ll do it.”

“Great-Aunt Sadie!”