Patricia Johns - The Cowboy's Christmas Bride

Her bravado was only partially sincere, though. She wasn’t looking forward in the least to doing a cattle drive with Andy, but the last thing her mother needed was to shoulder more guilt about the family finances. It wasn’t her fault that she’d gotten sick or that the insurance company had fallen through when they’d needed them most. What mattered was that she’d gotten the hysterectomy she’d so desperately needed and was back to full strength.

“As for Nina...” her mother added. “We only have to keep the secret until your brother gets home in February. Just a few months longer. I’d rather have him find out when he has family support.”

It was an old conversation—one they’d had a hundred times before—and Dakota stared down at the polished apple in her hands.

“What about Dad?” she asked cautiously. “I know how he feels about Andy and all—”

“He’ll be fine. A paycheck is a paycheck.” She smiled wanly. “As long as you think you can handle it.”

Dakota took a bite of the crisp apple and chewed thoughtfully. Times like these she missed her brother the most. Brody would have some wisecrack to make them laugh and he’d manage to cut Andy down to size in no time.

“I’m going to go fill the feeders before it gets too late,” Dakota said. They’d done their own cattle drive last month and the whole herd was back in the nearby fields. The cows wouldn’t wait, and she still had to sort out how they’d manage the work while she was gone for a few days. There was one thing she wanted more than anything else, and that was to ranch this very land she was raised on, if only she could get her father to let go of his hopes for Brody taking it over. She glanced down at her brother’s email.

Is Nina okay? She seems distant, but I guess I’m a bit distant, too. I want to do the right thing and marry her when I get back. I know you don’t like frilly stuff, but any chance you’d pitch in and help to put together a wedding?

This family was in tatters; their finances were shaky. Right about now, doing a cattle drive with the man who’d dried up their land didn’t seem half bad compared to facing the rest of their problems.

She needed a paycheck. She’d start with that.

* * *

HARLEY WEBB ARRIVED on time with a cigarette behind his ear and a worn New Testament tucked into the front pocket of his fleece-lined jean jacket. He looked young—too young for this job. He’d barely grown a mustache and the rest of his face looked smooth as a boy’s. A cowboy hat sat firmly on his head and his hands looked too big for his wiry physique, like an overgrown puppy. So this was the bottom of the barrel, apparently.

“Harley, I take it?” Andy asked, shaking the kid’s calloused hand—at least he’d done some hard work in his life.

“That’s right,” Harley replied. “Good to meet you.”

While Dakota had the unpleasant surprise of seeing Andy instead of Chet, Andy had been the one to call Harley for an interview, and it was mildly relieving not to have to explain his presence to someone. That being said, he didn’t know this kid from Adam, and he was used to having some sort of personal association with the men who worked the ranch—either they’d worked on a neighboring ranch in the past or were related to someone from the county. Harley, however, seemed to have dropped down from above—a gangly, questionable gift.

“So where are you from?” Andy asked, leading the way into the house.

“Idaho,” he replied.

“And what brings you here?” Andy stood back while Harley came inside. He gestured to a kitchen chair and both men sat. Harley took off his hat, his thin, brown hair flattened against his forehead.

“I came out here to visit some family,” Harley said. He fiddled with the edge of his hat. “Decided to stay a bit longer, and I need to make some money.”

Andy nodded. It sounded plausible. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.” Harley laughed self-consciously. “Trust me, I get carded a lot.”

“You have some ID?” Andy asked, and Harley shrugged, leaned the side and pried a wallet out of his back pocket. His Idaho driver’s license confirmed his age.

Andy handed it back. “All right. So let’s talk experience, then.”

“I was raised on a ranch,” Harley said. “I’ve done it all. I can rope, herd, brand—you name it. I’ve done cattle drives before.”

He sounded confident enough—and today was Saturday. There wasn’t much time to find another drover if he didn’t take Harley.

“You know anyone around here who can vouch for you?” Andy asked. “You said you’re visiting family. Who are they?”

“My sister—her name is Holly Webb. She lives in town here.”

That didn’t help. He’d never heard of her. “Anyone else?”

“Sorry.” Harley shook his head. “But I’ll work hard. You can count on that. I’m honest and I’ll earn my keep.”

Andy paused, considering. Hiring someone at the car dealership was different, since he had a human resources official to check into work histories and the like. He had no way of checking out Harley’s story on such short notice. This one was left up to his gut. The way he saw it right now, they could ride with Harley or without him. Even if he wasn’t much of a drover, he’d be an extra body for night watches. That was something. On the bright side, he might be as good as he claimed. Besides, he’d showed up on time and, despite Andy’s teasing of Dakota earlier, he did value punctuality in his employees; it showed the kid wanted the job.

“Okay, well, this is what we offer.” Andy wrote a number on a slip of paper and slid it across the table. “That’s not negotiable.”

“Looks fair, sir,” Harley replied with a nod.

“If you want the job, you’re hired,” Andy said. “We start out Monday at sunup. Be here an hour early and we’ll get you fitted with a horse. I’ll need a copy of your ID...”

The next few minutes were filled with legalities and forms. There was something about Harley that Andy liked. Maybe it was that Harley was oblivious to Andy’s past and only seemed to relate to him as a boss and source of a potential paycheck. Call it vanity, but it felt good to be called “sir” again instead of the other, less flattering descriptions he’d overheard. Ordinarily he’d be more cautious about an unknown ranch hand, but lately he was a little more sympathetic toward people wanting a fresh start. They weren’t so easy to achieve and he envied those who managed it.

Plus, with Christmas coming up, he was more sentimental than usual. Christmas was hard—it had been ever since his mother had passed away right around the holiday when he was thirteen. Christmases were never the same without her. It wasn’t anything concrete like her cookies or the way she always found the perfect gift for the people she loved...it was her. Without Mom, it was like the sun dimmed and the moon went out. Those were some of the memories he hoped to escape when he left Hope after this cattle drive. Christmas needed to be in Billings this year—in his modern apartment with his new life. He couldn’t face another Christmas in Hope.

After Harley left, Andy took the paperwork into the office. He pulled out a fresh file folder and grabbed a ballpoint to write out the newest employee’s name. Andy wasn’t quite the lackadaisical jokester that Dakota took him for, but her assumptions weren’t her fault. He’d worked for that reputation out of a deep sense of hurt and betrayal. He wasn’t a guy who liked to advertise his vulnerability because, ironically enough, even though he’d put his teenage energy into proving he didn’t care, the thing he’d wanted most from the people in his community was their respect. Maybe even a “sir” now and again.