Beth Cornelison - Rancher's Covert Christmas

The wail of approaching emergency vehicles and rumble of engines drew her back to the window. An older man with black hair like Zane’s had joined the men standing around Dave. Michael McCall? As the vehicles pulled up, the older man walked over to an attractive brown-haired woman of approximately the same age and wrapped her in a comforting hug. Zane’s mother?

Erin didn’t linger in the guesthouse any longer. While getting in the way during an emergency would be bad form for a visiting travel writer, she really wanted to have a firsthand, up-close view of the proceedings. A sheriff’s department SUV was among the arriving vehicles, and she really wanted to observe the handling of the incident, since Michael’s chief reason for hiring her was his discontent with the way the local law enforcement had essentially shrugged off previous incidents of vandalism on the ranch. Or so Michael felt. Maybe there had truly been little the sheriff could do, too little evidence to make an arrest. Michael didn’t buy that reasoning and that scenario seemed sketchy to Erin, as well. How hard had they tried to find the person sabotaging the Double M?

Snagging her coat off the back of the communal area’s couch where she’d discarded it minutes ago, Erin headed back outside. She kept to the perimeter of the gathered crowd, edging closer to the site of the broken ladder.

Initial efforts of the first responders were, understandably, getting Dave stabilized and into the ambulance. Zane approached one of the sheriff’s deputies and pointed to the fallen ladder, spread his hands, shook his head. Oh, to be a fly on the...deputy’s hat?

Erin rolled her eyes at her broken idiom and noticed presumably Michael break away from presumably his wife to join Zane’s conversation with the deputy. Michael’s jaw was taut. When the deputy said something with a lift of his shoulder, Michael’s eyes hardened, and he made an angry gesture toward the rubble of the ladder.

Zane placed a hand on presumably his father’s shoulder and said something that was answered with a head shake and grim, tight-lipped expression from the older man. The older woman joined them and apparently encouraged Michael to step aside. “Let Zane handle it, honey,” Erin overheard the woman say, then garbled words and “...your blood pressure.”

She read on his lips the curse word that Michael loosed as Zane and the deputy stepped aside and his wife guided him away. As the older couple stepped to the edge of the crowd, Michael’s gaze drifted to Erin and stopped. He tensed, then softened his facial expression and gave her a tiny nod of acknowledgment. His wife noticed, and Erin saw the woman’s lips say, Who’s that?

Michael turned toward his wife to reply, and whatever he said had the woman towing him over to Erin, a warm smile of greeting on her lips. “Are you Erin Palmer, the writer?”

Erin stuck out her hand to the woman. “I am.”

“Melissa and Michael McCall. So nice to meet you.” Rather than shake her hand, Melissa folded Erin’s hand between her gloved palms and squeezed. “I’m so sorry that your welcome has been spoiled by this terrible accident.”

“No apologies, please. I’m just so sorry this happened. How is Dave?”

“Shocky,” Michael said, offering his hand.

Melissa dropped Erin’s fingers so that she could greet the patriarch of the family.

“But the EMT assures us he’ll be fine.” Erin gave the older man’s hand a firm shake as he continued. “Glad to meet you, Ms. Palmer. Zane says you were quite helpful in calming the patient earlier. Some sort of yoga breathing?”

She shrugged. “Mostly common sense. He needed not to hyperventilate, which was where he was headed, so I got him to refocus his thoughts and breathe deeper.”

“Don’t be modest, dear. That was a good thing you did. We thank you. Dave is like family to us.” Melissa patted Erin’s sleeve, and the maternal gesture flowed through Erin like warm honey. She immediately liked the woman, whose kind eyes and generous smile spoke of a gentle soul.

“Melissa and Michael McCall...” she said, tipping her head with a grin tugging her lips. “How very alliterative.”

Melissa chuckled. “Says the writer. Yes, we have plenty of Ms around here. That’s where the Double M got its name.”

Erin furrowed her forehead. “I thought the ranch had been in the family for several generations.”

Melissa gave a startled laugh. “Someone has been doing her research!” She sent her husband an impressed look before returning her gaze to Erin. When the mostly gray blue heeler nuzzled her hand, Melissa bent to stroke the dog’s head and scratch his ears. “The ranch was my family’s for close to fifty years before I inherited it when my father died. We renamed it the Double M at that time because I wanted Michael to feel he was included, that he belonged, that the ranch was truly his as much as mine.”

Michael jerked his head toward Melissa. “What? You told me you wanted to change the name because Rocking X sounded like a porn palace.”

Erin snorted a laugh and quickly covered her mouth to muffle her mirth.

“It did sound like a porn palace or house of ill repute!” Melissa fussed. “My mother thought so, too. It needed to change. And the Double M achieved both dignity and a sense of inclusion for you. Win-win.”

Michael touched his wife’s cheek. “Well done, love.” He gave her a peck on the lips. “Thank you.”

The clack of metal stretcher legs folding called their attention to the back of the ambulance. Dave was loaded in the patient bay, and Zane had to retrieve one of the dogs when it tried to jump into the ambulance with the stretcher.

Helen clambered in next to Dave before the back doors were slammed shut.

“Lord, take care of him. Give them both strength and peace,” Melissa said under her breath, then raised a worried look to her husband.

“Why don’t you follow the ambulance to the hospital?” Michael said quietly to his wife. “I’ll join you shortly, but I want to stay here as long as the sheriff is on the premises.”

Melissa gave him a long, anxious stare. “Will you behave? Let your sons talk to the deputies? I don’t need another emergency because your blood pressure spiked.”

The reminder of his medical condition clearly irritated the ranch owner, but he sighed, nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

“Thank you.” Melissa rose on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek before heading across the ranch yard calling, “I’m going to the hospital. Roy? Josh? Anyone want to ride with me?”

Michael shifted his body so that his back was to the rest of the people in the yard. “You saw the accident happen?”

“Sort of,” Erin said, matching his lowered volume. “I was talking to Zane at the time, and suddenly the ladder collapsed, and Dave was on the ground.”

“And you suspect foul play?” Michael lifted an eyebrow.

Erin shook her head. “Not necessarily. I just thought it wise for the police to photograph the scene, treat it as sabotage for the time being. Just in case. Considering the history of incidents here, it would be prudent.”

“I agree. Unfortunately, the deputy I talked to is not so convinced. I tried to argue the point and was sidelined by my family because I had a cardiac event a few years ago and am at risk of another because of my blood pressure.” He grumbled something under his breath, then said, “The best thing for my blood pressure would be to see this menace hanging over us solved, and the ranch put back on a profitable trajectory.”

“I’d like to go observe,” Erin said, casting a glance behind her client and seeing the deputies milling about the ladder debris. “We’ll talk later.” She offered her hand and said in a louder voice, “It was nice to meet you, Michael. Thank you for hosting me.”