Susan Crosby - An Early Christmas Gift

“Sort of, but given our family histories, we didn’t have any choice.” In truth, she’d mostly been happy sneaking off with him. “How about you?”

“Fantasies kept the relationship alive for me—remembering what really happened between us and imagining more. It’s just…we never got to know each other well.”

It wasn’t until that moment that she also realized they hadn’t. Not really. Even now, they tiptoed around each other, testing each other’s reactions. “I guess not.”

He brushed her hair from her face, then touched her ear, her cheek, her jaw. “I know that you like it when I kiss this spot under your ear.”

He leaned forward and did just that, sending shivers through her.

Red Valley Ranchers: Brothers who work the land…side by side with the women they love!

An Early

Christmas Gift

Susan Crosby

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SUSAN CROSBYbelieves in the value of setting goals, but also in the magic of making wishes, which often do come true—as long as she works hard enough. Along life’s journey she’s done a lot of the usual things—married, had children, attended college a little later than the average co-ed and earned a BA in English. Then she dove off the deep end into a full-time writing career, a wish come true.

Susan enjoys writing about people who take a chance on love, sometimes against all odds. She loves warm, strong heroes and good-hearted, self-reliant heroines, and she will always believe in happily-ever-after.

More can be learned about her at www.susancrosby.com.

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For my heroines—Georgia Bockoven, Robin Burcell

and Christine Rimmer—oustanding writers, generous

friends and loving women. Thank you from the top

and bottom of my heart.

And with thanks to Gail and David Winslow,

creators and owners of the gorgeous Mt. Shasta

Lavender Farms. Your input was invaluable.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Chapter One

Jenny Ryder’s senses heightened as she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the hundred-year-old building. Anxiety tasted sharp in her mouth. Cars rumbled along Main Street, vibrating under her feet. And the majestic sight of the cloud-covered Gold Ridge Mountain was reflected in the Bank of Red Valley’s glass door as she grabbed the cold metal pull. She had an appointment with the bank president, Jacob Campbell, who held her future in his hands.

She felt all grown up in the bank’s cool, quiet environment, and was glad she’d dressed like a woman who meant business, not a college student.

Jenny glanced around, not seeing anyone she knew well enough to greet beyond a wave and a smile, even though she’d been born and raised in the small northern California city. She headed straight to Mr. Campbell’s office. His assistant greeted Jenny, then led the way to the open door.

The sixtyish man stood and offered his hand. “No pigtails anymore, I see.”

“I couldn’t if I tried,” she said. She’d had her wavy auburn hair cut to a more carefree chin length last week. Wash and wear. She’d save time and energy during what she hoped would be very busy days ahead.

“Have a seat, Jenny.”

Her knees almost gave way as she lowered herself into a chair across the desk from him. A folder lay open on top. Even upside down she recognized the request-for-loan document she’d painstakingly filled out. Behind it would be her business plan and a personal plea. Her family’s business, Ryder Ranch, had been the bank’s first customer a hundred years ago. The relationship had held steady through the economic ups and downs of cattle ranching. That should mean something.

“So, you’re the last college graduate of your family. That’s quite an accomplishment,” Mr. Campbell said.

“Our parents were uncompromising,” she said with a smile.

“But you majored in farm management, even though the family business is cattle ranching.”

“There wouldn’t have been room for me at the ranch, not in any position of consequence.” She tried not to fidget but she really wanted to end the small talk and get on with her life.

“I can see how anxious you are,” Mr. Campbell said, “so I won’t make you wait. The loan committee denied your request. I’m sorry.”

She felt as if she’d plunged headlong into a wind tunnel. She saw his mouth moving but couldn’t hear the words over the roar in her head. Denied. She’d been counting on—

“I wish I could refer you to someone else, Jenny, but I doubt you’ll find a bank willing to give a novice a loan. Unless, of course, your father will cosign, but you indicated you didn’t want to ask him. Without collateral and a great deal of experience in the field, no one will want to take that kind of risk. You don’t even have an income.”

Technically she had collateral. She just couldn’t use it. “If I got the loan, I’d have a job,” she said, trying to smile. Keeping a tight rein on her emotions, she shook his hand before she escaped. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Campbell. I appreciate it.”

“Wish I had a different answer for you.”

“Me, too.”

Thirty seconds later she was headed out of town, going nowhere in particular. Just going.

* * *

Win Morgan had heard Jenny Ryder was coming home. He’d checked her college’s website for the date of her graduation ceremony—June eighth—and figured she’d be back this week, but he hadn’t expected to see her right away.

But there she was, almost burning rubber as she took the main road out of town in her fuel-efficient car, which stuck out like a sore thumb among the abundance of pickup trucks.

Win grimaced as she swerved to avoid a truck pulling away from the curb, but it didn’t slow her down. She was upset. Or mad.

Or afraid of something?

She’d always been a little high-strung and a lot stubborn, but four years of college should’ve settled her some, matured her.

Worried, he got into his truck and followed. He had something important to tell her, had already waited too long to do so. Now was as good a time as any—especially since calling on her at Ryder Ranch was impossible. He was a Morgan, after all, and therefore from the enemy camp, their families rival cattle ranchers for more than 150 years.

A light rain started splattering his windshield as Win scouted the land for signs of her. Hay fields claimed most of the area, except for a grove of trees way off in the distance, at river’s edge. Would she have gone there? It seemed unlikely, but there wasn’t anywhere else. She would’ve been kicking up dust if it hadn’t been sprinkling, which lessened his odds of tracking her.