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How long they stood like that, Clint had no idea—could have been a minute or an hour—but at some point, Lexi wiped her eyes free of tears and blew her nose into the handkerchief.
“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I have to get back.” She set her foot in the stirrup and swung her leg over the saddle. “I won’t keep you. You stay and check the fence.”
He watched her urge Nugget into motion. Off to spend the rest of the day answering calls and doing whatever wedding planners did. And from what he could tell, she’d been doing it nonstop since she’d hired him. Which left no time for grieving...
It hit him then. No wonder she was as thin as a piece of licorice. She hadn’t grieved her father’s death.
There was no one here to look after her. No clients to meet with. No friends to force her to eat lunch. No father to ensure she lived in a safe, well-maintained house.
Nobody but him.
He slapped his thigh and mounted his horse. Miles of checking fence wouldn’t be enough to pretend something hadn’t shifted inside where Lexi Harrington was concerned, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.
* * *
Lexi pulled her favorite velvety blanket up to her chin and pressed the mute button on the remote. Ever since leaving Clint in the pasture earlier, she’d been unable to work. Tears kept erupting.
Because everything here, in this house and on the ranch, reminded her of her father.
Things she hadn’t noticed for weeks—his favorite coffee mug, the faded hand towel with an embroidered cowboy boot she’d bought him for his birthday—unleashed her memories. Two hours ago she’d walked past the master bedroom’s closed door, the one she hadn’t opened since finding out he’d died, and her feet had backtracked until she stood face-to-face with the pine door. Without thought, she’d fallen to her knees, sobbing in front of it.
It was at that point she’d given up on getting anything done. She’d changed into sweatpants, brewed a pot of tea and flipped through the channels until she found one playing original romantic Christmas movies. They always made her feel better.
Not today, though.
Thanksgiving was a week away. She would be celebrating the holidays alone. Oh, she could drive to Denver, join friends with their families, but she wouldn’t. Her heart couldn’t take being surrounded by happy people, people who would want to cheer her up. She was in no state to fake pleasantries while choking on tears as she ate their turkey dinner.
And she couldn’t believe she’d broken down in front of Clint. The man probably thought she’d lost her mind. Maybe she had lost her mind. What had possessed her to start telling him those personal things?
Unacceptable on her part. She wasn’t paying Clint to be her therapist. The poor guy. Probably worried she was having a nervous breakdown. She’d apologize. Assure him it wouldn’t happen again.
Her phone rang.
Clint.
Her palms grew moist. Oh, why had she dissolved into a weepy mess in front of him?
“Hi.” His deep voice calmed her nerves. “One of the herding dogs is missing. Banjo, the older one. I didn’t want to bother you, but I’m concerned and... Have you seen him?”
Banjo, Daddy’s favorite border collie? “No, I haven’t. Have you tried the barns?”
“Yeah, I’ll keep looking.” He sounded like he was going to hang up.
“Wait!” She threw off the blanket, tired of being alone. “I’ll come with you.”
“It’s not necessary. I know you’re busy—”
“I’m coming.”
“Lexi,” he said in his low, soothing tone. It was the first time she’d heard him use her name, and it did something funny to her pulse. “I don’t want to upset you.”
“Look, I know I was overly emotional earlier, but that’s not me. I don’t cry all the time.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” He sighed. “Dogs hide when they’re sick or when it’s their time.”
His words hit her in the gut. It was true. Dogs were social animals, but when it was their time, they slunk away to die by themselves.
Not Banjo. Not on top of everything else.
“I can handle it, Clint.” She couldn’t handle it, but being the boss meant dealing with tough situations.
Three minutes later, she wrapped her scarf more tightly around her neck and shivered as Clint handed her a flashlight. Dusk had fallen, and shadows lurked.
“I’ve checked the stables, the barns, all the obvious places.” Clint strode tall and confident toward the cabins. He had the air of a man in command, and right now, she needed someone else to be in charge. “Unless you can think of someplace the dog would have gone... I figure he might have followed one of the cowboys home.”
“It’s worth a shot.” She kept pace with him. “When did you last see him?”
“He trailed in behind Logan and Mike when they returned from checking calves, but he didn’t come in with the other dogs at feeding time.”
Nothing but the sound of the wind and their feet against the hard dirt met her ears. The fact Banjo hadn’t eaten was a bad sign. Where would the dog go if not with the other dogs in the barn? Coyotes were common in these parts. He couldn’t have been attacked, could he? Banjo knew better than to tangle with one of them.
They rounded the bend where windows in three of the cabins glowed.
“Why don’t you ask Logan and Sarah if they’ve seen him while I ask the other guys?”
She nodded. After knocking on the door, she rubbed her hands together. Felt like snow was on its way.
“Lexi, what a nice surprise!” Sarah, a pretty blonde in her late twenties, beckoned her to enter, but Lexi stayed on the porch.
“I don’t mean to bother you, but Banjo’s missing. Have you seen him around tonight?”
The smile slid off Sarah’s face. “No, I haven’t, and I’ve always been fond of that dog. Did you check all the barns? He might be trying to stay warm.”
“Clint checked already, but we’ll try again.” Lexi turned to leave. “Oh, and thanks for supper every night, Sarah. You don’t have to do that.”
“Well, we’re all sorry about RJ’s passing. He was a good man. Treated us like family. Anything you need, just ask.”
“Thank you.” Lexi’s throat tightened as she turned away. Not again. What was it with today? If she cried one more time, so help her...
Clint loped up. “Did they see him?”
Not trusting herself to speak, she shook her head, willing the emotions to pass. Clint rubbed his chin. He seemed nervous, upset.
“Are you okay?” She placed her hand on his arm. The muscles bunched, but she didn’t pull away.
“Yeah.” The sky grew darker. “I guess I’ll check the barns again.”
“Let’s look behind the cabins. Maybe he wandered back there.”
The glance he flashed her said it was a fool’s errand, but she didn’t care. They trained their flashlights behind the row of cabins. No sign of the dog. Clint’s house stood at the end of the drive. The dark windows gave it a sad air, like it was waiting for him to come home.
“Clint, what’s that on your front porch?”
He twisted to see and took off toward his house. She ran to catch up with him.
Banjo! Clint knelt next to the dog, massaging his ears. Banjo’s tail thumped on the wood, and his tongue hung out. The dog was clearly thrilled to see Clint.
“I thought we’d lost you, old boy,” he said.
“I guess he missed you.” She leaned her shoulder against the rail, never imagining Clint could look this happy.
He continued lavishing Banjo with affection. “Probably looking for a treat or something.”
“He can stay here with you, you know.”
“It wouldn’t be right.” He rose.
“Why not? I can tell you like dogs.”
“I’ve never owned one.”
The man whose face lit up like the carnival rides at the rodeo when he saw Banjo had never owned a dog? Impossible.
“He’s getting old,” Lexi said. “If you don’t want him here, that’s fine, but if you like him, well...maybe he needs some TLC after long days with the cattle.”
“He is getting old.” Clint straightened, thinking about it. “I’ve been meaning to mention the ranch should add a few more dogs. I’ve trained cattle herders. It takes time for them to learn the ropes. If something happens to Banjo...”
“I’ll check into it.”
He looked as if he wanted to say something, then he shook his head. “I’ll walk you home.”
“It’s not far.” She waved the flashlight in the direction of her house. “The boogeyman won’t get me.”
“I’m walking you home.” And there was serious Clint again. Only Banjo seemed to lighten him up. “I know you can take care of yourself. But I’d feel better if...”
Such a small thing, him caring about her safety, but it made her feel warm and toasty. And for the first time in hours, she didn’t feel like crying in the slightest.
She’d been right to hire Clint. Nothing escaped his notice on the ranch, not even a sweet old dog.
Careful, Lexi. Start to romanticize him, and you’ll end up like last time. In a dull relationship without the things you really want. The ring. The emotional connection. The once-in-a-lifetime love.
Whether she liked it or not, she was the boss, and she’d better not forget it.
Chapter Three (#u7b19ba79-5920-5df5-8621-c7a919679b73)
“Storm’s coming tonight. I’m heading into town.” Clint shifted from one cowboy boot to the other Monday afternoon. “Do you need any supplies?”
“I’ll come with you.” The words were out of Lexi’s mouth before she’d thought them through. She stood in the open doorway as a gust of wind swooshed inside.
She hadn’t left the house in three days, and she was losing her mind. Natalie Allen, her vice president and top wedding planner, had taken more responsibilities off Lexi’s shoulders, but details continued to slip through the cracks. Lexi was still reeling from the nasty phone call she’d received this morning from a very unhappy client. She couldn’t help thinking if she’d been there, the situation could have been prevented.
In his Carhartt jacket, jeans and cowboy hat, Clint looked ready to bolt. “If you give me a list—”
“I want to tag along.” She was already pulling on her faux fur–lined boots.
“I have errands to run first.”
“Even better.” She shrugged into her coat. “Just drop me off downtown and text me when you’re ready to go to the store.”
His expression darkened, but he nodded. “I’ll be in the truck.”
He didn’t have time to walk away, because she’d grabbed her purse and followed him outside. With Clint managing the ranch, maybe it was time for her to return to Denver. For good.
She bit the corner of her bottom lip, less than thrilled at the thought.
He opened the passenger door of his black truck for her, and she buckled herself in, thankful the cab was warm.
“So...what’s on your agenda?” She watched him adjust the mirrors then back the truck up.
“Dottie will be mad if I don’t stop in and say howdy, so I’m headed to her diner first. Then I’m meeting Art McFall about his hay supply. I have to stop in at the bank, and I’m due for a trim.”
“Dottie. Hay. Bank. Barber. Got it. How long do you think it will take?”
“Two hours.”
Two whole hours.
She watched the bare countryside pass by. It was part of her, the same way selecting complementary colors for a bouquet was part of her. After living in the city for years, she’d never thought she’d miss the raw emptiness of the land, but she did. Was that why the thought of returning to Denver wasn’t lighting up her insides?
“I’ve looked over the ranch’s books some more,” Clint said. “We’ll be selling the calves soon, even though the prices are low.”
“Okay.” She faced him, remembering the twinge of doubt she’d had at their meeting last week.
“The new barn is empty, and it cost a lot to build.”
“I know.”
“To fill the barn with square bales next summer, you need farm equipment.”
She knew where he was going with this. Equipment cost money.
He concentrated on the road ahead. “If you want the equipment, you need to get a high price for your calves.”
A dull ache formed behind her eyes. “You think we should wait a few months to sell, don’t you?”
“Not if we can’t feed them.”
“Can we feed them?” She watched him carefully, trying to read his reaction.
