Cathy Thacker - A Cowboy Under The Mistletoe

Duchess barely lifted her head as he strode by to the mudroom beyond.

Ally worked to retain her outward composure as she watched Hank dump the soiled linens into the washing machine. She clenched her teeth while he added detergent and set the dials. “I mean it,” she insisted.

He pulled the knob, then leaned a hip against the washer, and folded his brawny arms in front of him. “Listen to me, Ally.” The water rushing through the pipes forced him to raise his voice slightly. “Hear what I’m saying. There is no way I’m putting that sweet lost dog in an animal shelter during the holiday season. Or at any other time, for that matter. Not when I’ve got the capacity to take care of her myself.”

Ally had never encountered such fierce protectiveness. Despite the fact that it countered her current request, she couldn’t help but admire Hank’s gallantry. Or wish, just a little impractically, that one day someone would feel that way about her.

“Fine.” She swallowed, struggling to hold her own with this very determined man. “But the dog doesn’t have to stay in the house.”

Hank took a moment to scowl at her before he replied. “Where would you have me put Duchess? In the barn?”

That was exactly what her father and mother would have done, had they not run the pregnant dog off the property first. Ally forced herself to hang on to the Garrett family’s unsentimental attitude just a little while longer. Coolly, she pointed out, “That was where Duchess was initially headed.”

Hank’s handsome features tightened in reproof. “Only because it was the best shelter she could find in which to deliver. Fortunately, we spotted her, and came to her rescue. Because if Duchess had given birth out there in the elements sometime in the next few days, with the temperature falling into the twenties at night, there’s no way she could have kept her offspring warm enough. All her pups likely would have died-maybe Duchess, too.”

Ally’s eyes welled with tears at the thought of yet another completely avoidable tragedy. She was responsible for a lot of bad things that had gone down on this ranch. She wouldn’t be held to account for this, too. “Fine.” She finally relented, throwing up her hands. “But when you’re not with her, you’re going to have to figure out how to contain the dog so she’s not in the way.”

Hank shrugged his powerful shoulders. “No problem.”

He regarded her in silence.

Another jolt of attraction swept through Ally. Suddenly, the dog wasn’t the main danger to her well-being-the sexy cowboy in front of her was. “Well…” She gathered her composure around her like a shield. “I’ve got to change and go into town…for a preliminary meeting with Marcy Lyon at Premier Realty.”

Hank’s eyes softened unexpectedly. His assessing gaze took her in head to toe, lighting wildfires everywhere it landed. “No business suit for that meeting, hmm?” he chided.

She fought back a self-conscious flush. “Everyone wears jeans in that office. You know that. Since they deal primarily in ranch property and are always climbing over fences and what not.”

Hank nodded and said nothing more.

But then, Ally thought sadly, he didn’t have to. He did not approve of her decisions and actions any more than her parents had, when they were alive. Now, as then, she told herself it did not matter. And still knew that some way-somehow-it did.

AN HOUR LATER, Kurt McCabe stopped by, vet bag in tow. “You were right,” he told his cousin, when he had finished his examination of Duchess. “Those puppies are coming soon.”

“How soon?” Hank asked.

Kurt shut off the portable ultrasound and folded the keyboard back against the monitor before latching it shut. “The next twenty-four, forty-eight hours.”

Hank figured they had time to prepare. “Any idea how many?”

His cousin slid his stethoscope back into his vet bag. “Looks like ten, from what I could see on the ultrasound, but the way they’re packed in there, there could be one more.”

Hank knew that was standard for the breed. “You have no idea who she might belong to?”

Kurt shook his head. “My staff and I all asked around. Got nothing. And…” he paused to use the transponder wand that would have detected surgically implanted information beneath the skin “…unfortunately, she’s not outfitted with a microchip that would reveal her identity.”

“Bummer,” Hank said with a frown. Kurt put the portable transponder away, too. “I can tell you that Duchess is definitely purebred. Show quality. On her own, she’d be worth a pretty penny. If those puppies are purebred, too, the whole litter could easily be worth twenty thousand dollars or more. So if that is the case, someone will definitely be looking for her.” He stood and shrugged on his yellow rain slicker. “The real question is, how is Ally Garrett taking this? She still as standoffish as I recall her being when we were all in school?”

“Probably more so.” Hank slipped on a long black duster.

“A shame,” Kurt remarked. Together, they headed out to his covered pickup truck to get the rest of the gear. “She was one good-looking woman.” He reached inside the passenger compartment and brought out a whelping kit with printed instructions, and a warming box, handing both to Kurt. Then he picked up a bag of prenatal dog food and two stainless steel bowls. “And since you’re in the market for a good-looking woman…” he teased, as they carried their loads back up to the porch and set them inside the front door.

Hank held up a silencing palm. “Just because you are happily married now, cuz-” He turned his back to the cold, driving rain blowing across the wraparound porch.

Kurt grinned even as water collected on the brim of his hat. “Paige and the triplets changed my life.”

“Yeah, well,” Hank muttered, “save the Hallmark card for later, will you?”

“Can’t help it, buddy.” Abruptly, Kurt sobered. “I remember how happy you were with Jo-anne, before-”

Again Hank lifted a palm. “That was a long time ago.” He had spent ten long years, working to counter the loss. “I’m over it,” he stated flatly.

“Glad to hear it.” Kurt slapped him on the shoulder. “So maybe you’ll start dating again.”

The thought of opening his heart to the possibility of pain like that had him clenching his jaw. “I’ve dated.”

His cousin lifted a skeptical brow.

I just haven’t found a woman who could take Joanne’s place. Hank cleared his throat and focused on the situation at hand. “Right now I have to figure out how to hang on to this ranch before Ally Garrett sells it out from under me.”

Kurt blinked in amazement. “She’s really going to let the Mesquite Ridge go, given how her folks felt about the ranch?”

Hank shook his head in silent censure. “The sooner, the better, in her view.” As they headed back to Kurt’s truck, Hank told him about the interest thus far from Corporate Farms and the local realty.

“Better get your bid in soon, then,” Kurt advised.

He nodded, accepting the advice. If only it was that simple.

His cousin headed for the driver’s seat. “Meantime, I suggest you read through the handouts in the folder I brought you. You and Ally are going to want to be prepared when Duchess tells you it’s time…”

THE RAIN WAS STILL FALLING when Ally drove up to the ranch house early that evening. Telling herself she was relieved to see that Hank’s pickup was no longer parked next to the barn, she grabbed her briefcase full of information from the Realtor, her handbag and two small bags of groceries. Lamenting her lack of an umbrella, she headed swiftly for the back door.

The mudroom was as dark and gloomy as the rest of the house as Ally made her way inside. She promptly tripped over something warm and solid, and what felt like a pile of blankets.