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The Rancher's Christmas Bride
The Rancher's Christmas Bride
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The Rancher's Christmas Bride

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“I’m not going to cry,” she insisted. But a few tears trickled down her cheeks.

“I guess I don’t have a right to ask what happened. But if you need to talk, I’m all ears.” He glanced in the mirror. “Seriously, have you ever seen ears this big?”

She glanced at him and burst into watery laughter, shaking her head as she surveyed his ears.

“They aren’t that big,” she countered. At least he’d made her laugh. He’d always been good for a laugh. And not much more.

“He picked the caterer,” she said quietly into the darkened interior of the truck. Her voice was soft, kind of sweet.

The windshield wipers clicked as they swept back and forth, and Chris LeDoux was singing “Cadillac Ranch.” Alex cleared his throat and shot her another quick look.

“Who picked the caterer? You mean you let him decide what to feed the guests and you’re upset about that? I think you’d need a bigger reason to walk out on a wedding.”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, he picked the caterer.”

He pulled to the side of the road because he couldn’t focus on the road and a conversation that seemed important. She fingered the sleeve of the jean jacket and her gaze slid to the window.

“He picked the caterer,” she said with meaning. “Not the chicken or the beef—the caterer. He picked her. Over me.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes and breathed. The tears disappeared but they’d left streaks down her cheeks. They’d left marks, the way this wedding would leave marks, he knew with certainty.

Another reason he was single and planned to stay that way. People had a tendency to hurt one another. His dad had hurt everyone in his path. His mom had walked out on her own children.

He shifted and pulled back onto the road, trying to find the right thing to say. A few minutes later he drove into Dan Wilson’s driveway.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, knowing his apology wasn’t the one that mattered. She’d been left at the altar by the man she had planned to spend her life with. He could tell her hard lessons about being let down by people who should have cared, but she didn’t need to hear it from him.

He’d let down people, too. He’d let down his siblings. He’d let down his best friend. He guessed he’d let down himself a few times, too. That made him the last person who could really help the woman sitting next to him in the dim light of his truck. He reached to turn down the radio and told himself it didn’t mean a thing. This moment would pass, like so many moments in his life. For these few minutes, though, maybe he could be her hero, the person she could count on.

“He was a fool. If he picked the caterer, he didn’t deserve you.” He parked next to Dan’s old farm truck.

She leaned across the truck in a rustle of white satin and lace and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I don’t even know your name, but thank you.”

He held out his hand. “Alex Palermo, at your service.”

She took his hand and again he was surprised by the way it felt, as if he should cherish the moment a little longer. “Marissa Walker.”

The rain was steady now and the light of early evening had given way to darkness. She peered through the windshield and frowned. “Is that my grandfather’s home?”

Alex glanced away from the bride sitting next to him and nodded as he looked at the little camper, hay bales stacked underneath to keep out the winter wind. “That’s Dan’s place.”

“He lives in a camper?”

“For as long as I’ve known him. He’s always been ornery and he’s always lived in this camper. Don’t let it fool you. He’s one of the best horse trainers in the country and he raises some mighty fine Angus cattle.”

A gunshot split the night, ending the conversation. The woman sitting next to him screamed. “He’s shooting at us!”

“Nah,” he said with a grin. “He’s just warning us to get off his land.”

* * *

Marissa couldn’t help it; she cowered in the seat, close to the cowboy. He was a stranger, but at the moment he was the only thing she had to hold on to. The day was catching up with her. She’d been awake since sunrise, because it was her wedding day and there’d been so much to get done. And then she’d stood in the dressing room of the wedding venue waiting for Aidan. And waiting. Until he sent the text that he was on his way to Hawaii. With Linda, the caterer. Unable to face her family and friends, she’d taken off with the limousine, leaving her mom a note that she needed time.

The limousine had broken down and the driver had told her he was done. The tow truck would take him back to the city and she was on her own unless she wanted to go to Austin.

And now this. Her grandfather was a madman with a gun.

The cowboy sitting next to her rolled down his window and leaned out. “Dan, stop shooting. You’re a little shaky these days and you might accidentally shoot someone.”

“Is that you, Alex?”

“Yeah, it’s me. And you don’t usually shoot at me when I pull up.”

“Cattle thieves have hauled off three of my best heifers, Alex. I ain’t taking no chances.”

“Yeah, but I’m your neighbor, not a cattle thief. And I’ve got your granddaughter in the truck with me. This isn’t the best way to introduce yourself.”

That was her cue. Marissa got out and walked tentatively through the dark and the mud to the front of the truck, where headlights illuminated the trailer and the man standing on the rickety porch. She glanced around, looking for the cowboy, and he was there, joining her. He grinned and winked and she felt as if he was her lifeline for the time being. A stranger with dark flashing eyes, dimpled cheeks and a flirty smile. A black cowboy hat covered his head but she thought she saw dark curls peek out from beneath.

His hand touched her back, between her shoulder blades, giving her strength to move forward.

“I’m Marissa. I’m your granddaughter.”

Her grandfather leaned against the porch as a fit of coughing hit. She wanted to tell him they’d be better off inside, but she wasn’t sure yet that it was true. Or even that he’d let her inside. Her grandmother had walked out on him, taking his only child, Marissa’s mom. He probably wasn’t going to feel too charitable to his only grandchild.

“I thought you were getting married today,” he said, surprising her. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to meet you.” She couldn’t very well tell him that she was twenty-six and she’d basically run away from home. That she’d run from a wedding that would have been the social embarrassment of the decade.

“You wanted to meet me?” He barked out a harsh laugh. “On your wedding day? Where’s your groom?”

“Hawaii.”

“Shouldn’t you be with him?” he asked, his voice softening a bit.

“I would have been if he hadn’t left with the caterer.”

He sighed. “That’s too bad. But that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

She bit down on her lip, unsure of what she should say. “I need a place to stay.”

“I’m sure you have a home and parents to go to.”

“Dan, it’s just for a night,” Alex Palermo said with a confident tone as he winked at Marissa.

She hadn’t said a thing about it being for just one night.

Dan’s hand was on the doorknob of the camper. “I don’t have an extra bed. And I don’t think a princess like her, in a dress that cost more than this camper, is going to want to stay here.”

“I do want to stay.” She took a few cautious steps forward.

“You don’t have to,” Alex said out of the corner of his mouth. “We can find somewhere else for you to stay.”

“Didn’t you hear the girl, Alex? She’s my granddaughter. She’s welcome to sleep on the couch. Tonight.” Her grandfather started to take a step inside but he wobbled a bit.

Alex hurried up the steps and steadied the older man. Marissa watched, unsure.

“Dan, are you okay?” Alex asked.

“I’m fine.” Marissa’s grandfather shook loose from the hand that steadied him. “A little light-headed from this cold. Get on in out of the rain, girl.”

“You’re sure about this?” Alex asked again.

“I’m sure,” she answered. Nervous or not, she was staying.

“Nobody’s asking if I’m sure,” her grandfather grumbled but he pushed the door open and motioned her inside. “Go on, Alex. We’re fine. You can come by tomorrow and check on her.”

Alex gave her one last look and left, walking down the rickety steps and across the muddy yard to his truck. She watched him go and then she stepped inside the camper and the door closed them in.

She heard the truck start, and her last chance to escape was driving off into the rain-soaked night, leaving her with a less-than-welcoming stranger. She peeked out the window, saw brake lights on the truck and smiled, because, unlike her groom, he wasn’t leaving without a second thought. And it felt good to know that a stranger, someone who didn’t have to care, did.

Chapter Two (#u7e6e5980-e6bd-5dd8-bbb6-39b39348538c)

Something heavy stretched out on Marissa’s legs. She tried to move and it growled long and low. She froze, peeking up at the bloodhound that stretched across her. The movement brought another soft noise from the animal—it wasn’t quite threatening, but was more of a warning growl. She looked up at the ceiling as another wave of something that felt like grief washed over her.

Today she should have woken up in Hawaii. She should be Mrs. Aidan Dean. Instead she was on her grandfather’s couch somewhere outside Bluebonnet Springs, Texas. Sometime in the night she’d decided she would never again play the fool. She would be stronger. More independent. She wouldn’t back down or give up. Aidan had hurt her badly. But he hadn’t broken her.

At least her grandfather had given her a place to stay the night. Last night, after Alex Palermo had left, they’d eaten bologna sandwiches in silence as he watched a game show. After the show ended he’d declared it bedtime. He’d tossed her a quilt and a pillow before he headed to his room. At the door he’d warned her about Bub, without telling her who Bub might be.

She guessed that Bub was the dog stretched out next to her.

“Get down,” she insisted. Bub just sprawled a little more and rested his head on her belly. “No, really, I don’t like dogs. Go,” she muttered, moving her legs. Bub growled again but nestled in closer.

She closed her eyes to regroup and must have dozed off again. A rooster crowed, something banged loudly against the roof and she jumped. Bub rolled off the sofa. He landed with a thud, shook his entire body and stared at her with meaningful contempt in his sad eyes. Marissa ignored him as she got to her feet and looked around.

In the light of day, the camper was small and cluttered. Magazines were stacked on tables. The kitchen was just a tiny corner with a minifridge and stove, a single sink and a few cabinets. A mirror hung on a closet door. She took a cautious peek at the woman in the reflection. The woman looking back at her had long hair that hung in a tangled knot. The wedding dress, a monstrous creation with too many sequins and ruffles, was wrinkled and stained. She didn’t know herself. Maybe once, a long time ago, she’d known what she wanted. She might have had her own dreams. But over the years she’d lost sight of the dreamer, the achiever, and she’d fought hard to become the person her parents wanted her to be. She’d lost herself.

When she left the wedding venue and headed for Bluebonnet Springs yesterday, that might have been an awakening. A rediscovery of the girl she’d left behind.

Looking back, she realized nothing about this wedding had been her choice, her style. The wedding venue, the dress, the flowers and the cake had all been picked by her mother. Guilt had robbed her of the ability to speak up for herself. She was her mother’s only child. This would have been her mom’s only wedding to plan. And on every last thing, Marissa had conceded to her mother’s desires.

Because of guilt.

Looking at her hair, she realized that she’d been giving up pieces of herself for a very long time. And now, because of Aidan, it was time to start taking back some of her independence.

She headed for the kitchen and rummaged through drawers until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out the clips and pins from her hair, then grabbed it up, leaned forward and cut it with scissors she’d found in a junk drawer.

The sound of scissors slicing through hair brought her back to reality. She looked at the long chunk of hair in her hand and straightened to look in the mirror at the ghastly sight.

“What have I done?”

Next to her the dog whined. She glanced down at the beast stretched out at her feet. He looked up at her with soulful eyes and six inches of drool hanging from his mouth.

“Did I really do that?” she asked him. In answer he put his head on his paws and closed his eyes. Of course he didn’t have an opinion. She returned her attention to the rather uneven layers of hair.

She snipped away the longer pieces, shortening her hair by another two inches. She looked in the mirror and winced. Her hair was now just above her shoulders. It wasn’t the best cut in the world but it felt good to be rid of the weight. She brushed it out with her fingers and then tossed the long locks she’d cut in the trash and dropped the scissors back in the drawer.

Now to find her grandfather. She opened the front door and was greeted by a sunny December day. There was a hint of chill in the air and the smell of wet earth. And no sign of Dan. She stepped back inside, leaving the door open a crack.

The camper wasn’t big, maybe thirty feet in length. She walked to the hallway and peered into the empty bathroom.

“Dan? Are you here?” She took another cautious step. “Dan?”

And then she heard the coughing, the same as the previous evening, almost as if he couldn’t catch his breath. She knocked on the closed bedroom door.

“Dan? Are you okay?”

The coughing fit lasted a few more seconds. “I’m fine. Can’t you leave a man in peace?”

“Not if he sounds like he might need help,” she said through the closed door. “Do you need help?”

“No, I don’t need help. Not unless you plan to feed livestock for me.” Through the thin door she heard a raspy chuckle.

“Okay. I think I can do that.”

“You don’t know a cow from a bull.” He began coughing again.

“Do you need a doctor?”

“Call your folks and tell them to come get you,” he said at the end of the spell, his breathing sounding off, even through the door.

“I texted them yesterday but my phone didn’t charge last night.”

“Deliver me from nosy relatives and do-gooders,” he grumbled. But she thought he sounded pleased. Or maybe she wanted him to be pleased.

“You rest. I’ll figure out the difference between a cow and a bull.”

“Don’t get too close to that bull or you’ll be on the business end of his horns. City gals. Land sakes, they drive a man nuts.”

“I’ll yell if I need help.” She looked down at the wedding dress. She guessed it wouldn’t do any good to ask for clothes.

As she headed out the front door and down the steps, careful to avoid loose boards, something red and winged came flying at her. She jumped off the porch and ran but it kept up the chase. The dog began barking and joined the fray. Chickens scattered, squawking in protest.

The crazy thing jumped at her, claws ripping at her dress, and a vicious beak tried to grab hold. She headed for the beat-up old truck parked to the side of the driveway, and when the doors wouldn’t open, she climbed in the back, the dress tangling around her legs. She fell in a heap of white, but then she scrambled to her feet, grabbing a rake that had been left in the bed of the truck.

A truck eased down the drive and stopped a dozen feet from where she stood. Through the window, even with the glare of early morning sun, she could see the cowboy from the previous evening. His wide grin was unmistakable.

The rooster must have known she’d been distracted. He flew at her again. She was ready this time and gave him a good smack with the rake. He made a stupid chicken noise as he fell to the ground, squawking and fluttering his wings.