Brenda Minton - A Rancher for Christmas

Her legs suddenly grew a little shaky and she started to worry how much it would hurt to be trampled by a bull. He had turned his attention back to her. The other cows were grazing and moving away. Maybe she should have started with them because they definitely looked less aggressive.

Walk away, slow and easy. It was the same advice she’d given herself on city streets at night when someone walked a little too closely behind her or came out of an alley looking for trouble. Never let them see your fear.

She started to walk, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t going to charge. He seemed content to watch. But as she moved toward the barn, she heard him moving. She looked back over her shoulder and he was trotting toward her, his head lowered.

“No!” She started to run.

Sharp barks and the sound of a horse’s hooves broke through her fear-fogged brain. She saw the flash as a dog rushed past her, heard his warning barks, and then a horse moved next to her. She looked up, her entire body turning to jello as her heart tried to beat itself out of her chest.

Jake Martin smiled down at her and then he swung, with casual ease, from the saddle. He landed lightly on the ground, all six-plus-feet of him.

“Having some troubles, Miss Hernandez?”

“Oh, no, I just felt like playing with the cattle, Mr. Martin. They seemed lonely. I thought the bull would like to play fetch.”

“Yes.” He grinned. “Bulls do love to play fetch. I hate to ruin your fun, but what say we put your playmates back in the field and figure out how they got loose.”

“Good idea.” She peeked around his horse, a red-gold animal that was huge, because a man like Jake Martin needed a huge beast to ride.

The dog, a heeler, was having a great time circling the cattle and bringing them toward the gate.

“Why don’t you wait inside the barn?” Jake pointed and she nodded in agreement, her insides settling now that he was there.

He swung back into the saddle and the horse spun in a tight half circle, going after a few cows that were making for the house and the yard. Breezy watched from the door of the barn, somewhat entranced by the beauty of it. Jake’s horse seemed to obey with the slightest touch of his hands on the reins or his knees on its sides. The dog kept an eye on the cattle and an ear perked toward Jake, waiting for various commands.

Within minutes the cattle were back in the field and the gate was closed. Jake slid to the ground again and wrapped the reins around a post. The dog plopped down on the ground and proceeded to lick his paws.

Jake walked toward her, no longer smiling but giving the place a careful look. When he got to her, he peeked inside the barn.

“Have you been in there?”

She shook her head. “No. I was sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee when I saw that they were out and this door was open.”

“The door was open?” His brows came together and his eyes narrowed. “You haven’t been out here at all?”

“No, of course not.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not accusing you, just trying to figure things out. Stay out here.”

“No!”

He smiled, his features relaxing. “Chicken?”

“No, of course not. But why would I stay out here if you’re going in there?”

He pushed the door open a little wider and motioned her inside. “By all means, be my guest.”

She stepped inside the hazy, dark interior of the barn. Jake was right behind her, his arm brushing hers as he stepped around her. Without a word he headed down the center aisle for the open door at the other end.

“You haven’t seen anyone? Any cars? Any sounds last night?”

“Nothing.”

He slowed as he reached the open door. For the first time she felt a sliver of fear. It shivered up her spine as she stepped close to the wall. Jake eased close to the room and looked inside. And then he stepped through that door, leaving her somewhat alone.

“Is everything okay?” she whispered.

He stepped out of the room, shaking his head. “The office is ransacked. I’m not sure what anyone was hoping to find in there. But I’m going to call the police and file a report, just to be on the safe side.”

So much for her calm, peaceful existence in Martin’s Crossing. Breezy sank with relief onto an overturned bucket and watched as Jake paced a short distance away from her. He spoke quietly on his cell phone, making it impossible to hear him. But she couldn’t help wondering if he suspected her. Why wouldn’t he? She’d showed up in town, the mysterious sister of Lawton Brooks. She was a woman who had lived on the streets. Her resume included panhandling, singing for change and an arrest record—although no charges were ever filed. Why wouldn’t he suspect her? Most people did.

Even her sister Mia’s husband, Slade, had been a little on the suspicious side when he first found her. He’d looked into her past and dug up what dirt he could find. He’d done it for Mia. Even bringing her to Oklahoma had been for Mia, not for Breezy.

It had worked out, though. And had given her a taste of what it was like to belong. It had only been a few days, but she wanted to belong in Martin’s Crossing. Belong to a town with a small grocery store and neighbors who asked how she was doing.

Jake ended his call and walked back toward her. With his long, powerful strides he was there in a matter of steps. He kneeled next to her, bending those long legs and folding his arms over his knees. He pushed back the black cowboy hat and peered at her. He looked concerned.

She took a breath and waited.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course I am.” She made sure to smile as she said it. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

His face split in a grin. “Well, you were almost toast out there with Johnny.”

“The bull’s name is Johnny? How ridiculous.”

Eyebrows arched. “Really? What would you name him?”

She shook her head. “I thought perhaps Sir Loin. But then he didn’t seem very chivalrous for a knight, so maybe Johnny is better.”

“He usually isn’t aggressive, but he does like to play. And when a bull his size decides to play, that makes you the bouncy ball.”

“I’m glad you came along when you did.”

“Me, too,” he replied. His voice was soft, like wind through the pines, and it undid her a tiny bit. “You’re probably cold.”

She was cold. She’d been wearing yoga pants and a T-shirt when she’d gone on this wild adventure. And her slippers were soaked from the damp morning grass. As she considered her pathetic condition, he slipped off his jacket and eased it around her shoulders.

“This should help.”

Words failed her. The jacket smelled of Jake Martin, like pine, mountains in the fall and cold winter air. She wanted to bury her nose in the collar and inhale his scent. She wanted to tell him she didn’t need his jacket. Without his jacket she was safe. Not tangled up with him, longing to be a part of something she’d never be a part of. In her experience, wanting always ended with disappointment. What she wanted was always taken from her or left behind when she moved on.

* * *

Jake watched as a train of emotions flickered across her face. He’d seen gratitude when he’d first put that coat around her, then he’d seen fear and maybe regret. He wished she wasn’t so easy to read. She’d be less complicated if she could be as composed as she thought she was.

Breezy was poetry, classic novels and maybe the Bible, all rolled into one very open book. It was a book he thought he might like to read. In any other life but his own.

For Violet and Rose’s sakes, he couldn’t mess this up. He’d seen, even in their short introduction to Breezy, that the girls would need this woman in their lives. But he couldn’t need her. His entire life was a juggling act. The ranch, his career, the twins, his family. One more thing might set the whole mess falling fast around him.