The Cowboy's Christmas Bride

“Leave the other guys to me.” He wasn’t exactly confident in his ability to lead this team of drovers, but if he could bridge the gap with Dakota, it would be a step in the right direction.

“So, what are the plans?” she asked.

“It’s four days in total. I haven’t done this particular ride before. It’s to the far side of what used to be the Vaughn ranch. We’re driving back four hundred head, so it’s no small job.”

Dakota nodded. “When do we start?”

“Monday morning.”

“Okay, I’ll be here bright and early.” She rose to her feet and turned toward the door. Her jeans fit her nicely and he found himself having to pull his eyes away from admiring her shape.

“Dakota—”

“Yeah?” She turned back, brown eyes drilling into him, and he felt the urge to squirm.

This was the hard part—this was where he had to reveal that he needed help—and his stomach tightened. He didn’t like admitting weakness, but needed an outside opinion, and she was the most qualified person in the room.

“You sold Chet some horses last spring,” he said.

“What of it?” She raked a hand through her hair.

“I need to choose my horse for this drive, and I thought you might have some advice.” More than advice. Dakota was something of a horse whisperer, able to calm even the most spirited animal, and while he knew she didn’t much like him at the moment, he did trust her instincts. There was a horse he’d warmed up to over the last couple of days—Romeo. Chet thought Romeo wasn’t ready for a cattle drive, but there was just something about that horse that Andy couldn’t dismiss. Maybe he and Romeo were alike—not exactly ready but still perfectly capable. He wanted Dakota’s take on it. Maybe she’d see something Chet hadn’t.

When Dakota didn’t answer right away, he added, “I know I’m not in the best position to ask you any personal favors, but it’s been a long time since I worked a ranch, and Chet is counting on me to take care of things. Once I’m done this job, I’ll go away and never bother you again. That’s a promise.”

She sighed. “Do you have time now? I’d need to see the horses again to see where they’re at. They all needed work when they left my stables.”

Andy shot her a grin and rose. “You bet. I have an hour until my interview with another potential drover.”

“Who?” She frowned.

“Harley Webb. Heard of him?”

She shook her head. “No. He from around here?”

“Doesn’t seem to be,” he said. “I’ll find out later, if he shows.”

She gave him a curt nod and pulled open the door. There was something about this woman, her slim figure accentuated by morning sunlight, that made his mind stray into territory it didn’t belong in. Just before that hazy summer, when Andy had dated Mackenzie, Dakota had started dating Andy’s best friend, Dwight. She’d almost married him, so he’d seen quite a bit of Dakota back then. You’d think that would have made her more inclined to be friendly with him. But even back then she’d seen straight through his attempts to look tough and suave, and she hadn’t liked what she’d seen. Now the woman had every reason to resent him; he had to keep that thought front and center.

Meanwhile he had a job to do. He’d do this cattle drive and, when Chet got back, he’d stay true to his word and get out of Hope for good. He’d celebrate Christmas in Billings and put all of this behind him. He’d seen enough over the last few days to be convinced that Hope would never be home sweet home again.

* * *

THE FACT THAT someone at the truck stop had meddled with Andy’s morning eggs was mildly satisfying. He had it coming after what he’d done to this community, and he didn’t deserve to swagger back into town and be welcomed with open arms. He’d formerly been a town favorite—up until he’d sold them all out. He’d been so cocksure of himself, and the girls had swooned for that auburn-hair-and-green-eyes combination—the Grangers were a good-looking family. It didn’t help that Andy was a flirt, either, but Dakota had never been the kind of girl to be taken in by that kind of guy. She’d seen straight through him from the start.

Dakota respected substance over flattery, so after Andy broke about a dozen hearts around town after Mack’s, and then up and sold his land to the developer, her sympathy—and everyone else’s for that matter—was spent. Andy Granger was a flirt and an idiot. As for the scrambled eggs—whatever they’d done to them, he’d had it coming.

Andy walked half a step ahead of her across the ranch yard. A tractor hooked up to a trailer was parked along the western fence, a few bales of hay and some tools on the trailer bed. Several goats were in the field beyond it, and they bleated in greeting as they passed. A chicken coop sat at the far end of the yard by the big, red barn and a rooster perched on a fence post nearby fluffed his feathers against the chill. A few hens scratched in the dirt outside the coop, but it looked like most had gone inside for some cozy comfort.

Andy angled his steps around the coop and Dakota noted how broad and strong he was still. City life hadn’t softened him physically. It had been almost five years since she’d last clapped eyes on him, and she’d forgotten how attractive he was up close... Not that it mattered.

A breeze picked up, swirling some leaves across their path, and she hitched her shoulders against the probing wind.

Word had spread about Andy, even when he was away. He’d spent a decade in the city, where he’d gotten engaged and then got cold feet, from what she’d heard through the grapevine. Then he’d sold the Granger pasture and left town again. It would have taken some courage to show his face after all that, but here he was, and he was doing this for his brother, which was the only reason she was being helpful at all—well, that and the money.

Dakota had known Andy quite well back in the day. He’d even asked her out once, leaning against the hood of his pickup and casting her a boyish grin. Truthfully, she’d been tempted to say yes—what girl hadn’t? But she’d just started dating Dwight and she wasn’t the two-timing kind of person. And what kind of a guy moved in on his best friend’s girlfriend? She’d turned him down flat, which was just as well because a few weeks later Mackenzie Granger came to town and soon they were a smoldering item. That just went to show that the boyish grin wasn’t to be trusted.

Ironically enough, Andy turned out to be less of a threat to her peace of mind than Dwight had been. The minute Dwight turned twenty-one, he did two things: propose and start drinking. She accepted his proposal, but the wedding never happened. With the booze, Dwight got violent, and she couldn’t stay in a relationship like that. Still, canceling her wedding had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. And Andy had been Dwight’s best friend—it said something about the kind of man Andy was, in her estimation. Birds of a feather and all that.

“So your eggs tasted funny, did they?” she asked, casting him a wry smile.

Andy shook his head. “You know, in a place this small you get to know everybody, but you also get to tick everybody off in one fell swoop, too.”

“So why come back?” she countered. “I’ve heard that you’re set up pretty well in Billings, and while I get helping out your brother, Elliot could have led this drive easily enough.”

In fact, she’d heard that Andy was rich, if she had to be entirely honest. Apparently he was making money hand over fist in the city, which was one more reason for people around here to resent him. It was easier to feel sorry for a guy who ended up down on his luck after pulling a stunt like that, but to have him actually prosper...

“I am set up pretty well.” His tone became more guarded and he looked away for a moment. “Let’s just say that some sentimental nonsense got the better of me.”

“Is that code for a woman?” she asked dryly. With Andy it usually came down to a woman.

“No.” He barked out a laugh. “Is that what you think of me, that I’m some kind of womanizer?”

Dakota shrugged. She couldn’t see any reason to lie. He had to know his own reputation. “Yes.”

He eyed her for a moment as if not sure how to take her frankness, then he shrugged.

“Well, this particular sentimental nonsense has nothing to do with a woman. This is about my dad, rest his soul, and my brother. I guess I missed...them. This. Fitting in. Like I said, nonsense. There is no turning back that clock.”

She didn’t miss the fact that he hadn’t exactly denied being a womanizer, but she did feel a little pang of pity at the mention of his father. Mr. Granger had died about four years earlier in a tractor accident. The whole town had showed up for the funeral. Even the truck stop closed down for a couple of hours so that everyone could attend; that’s how loved Andy’s father had been. She inwardly grimaced.

“I didn’t send the horses out to pasture today,” Andy went on, saving her from finding an appropriate reply.

He led the way around the side of the newly painted barn toward the corral. As they stepped into its shadow, the December day felt distinctly colder. This winter would make up for lost time; there was no doubt about it.

Andy glanced over his shoulder and his green eyes met hers. “Thanks for this, by the way.”

Her pulse sped up at the directness of that look and the very fact that he was working his blasted Granger charm on her was irritating.

“This isn’t for you, Granger. It’s for Chet.”

She wasn’t falling for any of Andy’s charms, but she could certainly understand why some women did. He was tall, muscular, with rugged good looks and scruff on his face that suggested he’d missed a couple of days of shaving. But Andy also represented something that hit her a little closer to home—the kind of guy who could walk away without too much trouble. Her brother had fallen for the female version of Andy Granger in the form of Nina Harpe, and she wasn’t about to repeat Brody’s mistakes. She had a lot of reasons to be wary of Andy Granger.

The corral was attached to the back of the barn, bathed in midmorning sunlight. At this time of year the sunlight was watery, but the air was surprisingly warm—about four or five degrees above freezing. Beyond the corral was a dirt road that lead toward different enclosed pastures, rolling hills of rich, golden cinnamon grass glowing in late autumn splendor. And beyond the fields were the mountains, rising in jagged peaks, hemming them in like majestic guards.

Several horses perked up at the sight of them, ears twitching in interest. Andy reached into a white bucket that sat in the shade and pulled out a fistful of carrots. He rolled them over in his hands, rubbing off the last of the dirt, and headed for the fence. Two of the horses came right over when Andy walked up—a dun stallion named Romeo and a piebald mare. Chet’s horse, a chestnut gelding named Barney, stood resolutely on the far side of the coral, ignoring them.

“Have you ridden any of them yet?” Dakota asked, stopping at Andy’s side. He held a carrot out to the mare.