The Rancher's Mistletoe Bride. Jill Kemerer
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The smile slid off Sarah’s face. “No, I haven’t, and I’ve always been fond of that dog. Did you check all the barns? He might be trying to stay warm.”
“Clint checked already, but we’ll try again.” Lexi turned to leave. “Oh, and thanks for supper every night, Sarah. You don’t have to do that.”
“Well, we’re all sorry about RJ’s passing. He was a good man. Treated us like family. Anything you need, just ask.”
“Thank you.” Lexi’s throat tightened as she turned away. Not again. What was it with today? If she cried one more time, so help her...
Clint loped up. “Did they see him?”
Not trusting herself to speak, she shook her head, willing the emotions to pass. Clint rubbed his chin. He seemed nervous, upset.
“Are you okay?” She placed her hand on his arm. The muscles bunched, but she didn’t pull away.
“Yeah.” The sky grew darker. “I guess I’ll check the barns again.”
“Let’s look behind the cabins. Maybe he wandered back there.”
The glance he flashed her said it was a fool’s errand, but she didn’t care. They trained their flashlights behind the row of cabins. No sign of the dog. Clint’s house stood at the end of the drive. The dark windows gave it a sad air, like it was waiting for him to come home.
“Clint, what’s that on your front porch?”
He twisted to see and took off toward his house. She ran to catch up with him.
Banjo! Clint knelt next to the dog, massaging his ears. Banjo’s tail thumped on the wood, and his tongue hung out. The dog was clearly thrilled to see Clint.
“I thought we’d lost you, old boy,” he said.
“I guess he missed you.” She leaned her shoulder against the rail, never imagining Clint could look this happy.
He continued lavishing Banjo with affection. “Probably looking for a treat or something.”
“He can stay here with you, you know.”
“It wouldn’t be right.” He rose.
“Why not? I can tell you like dogs.”
“I’ve never owned one.”
The man whose face lit up like the carnival rides at the rodeo when he saw Banjo had never owned a dog? Impossible.
“He’s getting old,” Lexi said. “If you don’t want him here, that’s fine, but if you like him, well...maybe he needs some TLC after long days with the cattle.”
“He is getting old.” Clint straightened, thinking about it. “I’ve been meaning to mention the ranch should add a few more dogs. I’ve trained cattle herders. It takes time for them to learn the ropes. If something happens to Banjo...”
“I’ll check into it.”
He looked as if he wanted to say something, then he shook his head. “I’ll walk you home.”
“It’s not far.” She waved the flashlight in the direction of her house. “The boogeyman won’t get me.”
“I’m walking you home.” And there was serious Clint again. Only Banjo seemed to lighten him up. “I know you can take care of yourself. But I’d feel better if...”
Such a small thing, him caring about her safety, but it made her feel warm and toasty. And for the first time in hours, she didn’t feel like crying in the slightest.
She’d been right to hire Clint. Nothing escaped his notice on the ranch, not even a sweet old dog.
Careful, Lexi. Start to romanticize him, and you’ll end up like last time. In a dull relationship without the things you really want. The ring. The emotional connection. The once-in-a-lifetime love.
Whether she liked it or not, she was the boss, and she’d better not forget it.
“Storm’s coming tonight. I’m heading into town.” Clint shifted from one cowboy boot to the other Monday afternoon. “Do you need any supplies?”
“I’ll come with you.” The words were out of Lexi’s mouth before she’d thought them through. She stood in the open doorway as a gust of wind swooshed inside.
She hadn’t left the house in three days, and she was losing her mind. Natalie Allen, her vice president and top wedding planner, had taken more responsibilities off Lexi’s shoulders, but details continued to slip through the cracks. Lexi was still reeling from the nasty phone call she’d received this morning from a very unhappy client. She couldn’t help thinking if she’d been there, the situation could have been prevented.
In his Carhartt jacket, jeans and cowboy hat, Clint looked ready to bolt. “If you give me a list—”
“I want to tag along.” She was already pulling on her faux fur–lined boots.
“I have errands to run first.”
“Even better.” She shrugged into her coat. “Just drop me off downtown and text me when you’re ready to go to the store.”
His expression darkened, but he nodded. “I’ll be in the truck.”
He didn’t have time to walk away, because she’d grabbed her purse and followed him outside. With Clint managing the ranch, maybe it was time for her to return to Denver. For good.
She bit the corner of her bottom lip, less than thrilled at the thought.
He opened the passenger door of his black truck for her, and she buckled herself in, thankful the cab was warm.
“So...what’s on your agenda?” She watched him adjust the mirrors then back the truck up.
“Dottie will be mad if I don’t stop in and say howdy, so I’m headed to her diner first. Then I’m meeting Art McFall about his hay supply. I have to stop in at the bank, and I’m due for a trim.”
“Dottie. Hay. Bank. Barber. Got it. How long do you think it will take?”
“Two hours.”
Two whole hours.
She watched the bare countryside pass by. It was part of her, the same way selecting complementary colors for a bouquet was part of her. After living in the city for years, she’d never thought she’d miss the raw emptiness of the land, but she did. Was that why the thought of returning to Denver wasn’t lighting up her insides?
“I’ve looked over the ranch’s books some more,” Clint said. “We’ll be selling the calves soon, even though the prices are low.”
“Okay.” She faced him, remembering the twinge of doubt she’d had at their meeting last week.
“The new barn is empty, and it cost a lot to build.”
“I know.”
“To fill the barn with square bales next summer, you need farm equipment.”
She knew where he was going with this. Equipment cost money.
He concentrated on the road ahead. “If you want the equipment, you need to get a high price for your calves.”
A dull ache formed behind her eyes. “You think we should wait a few months to sell, don’t you?”
“Not if we can’t feed them.”
“Can we feed them?” She watched him carefully, trying to read his reaction.
“I think we can.”
She weighed her options. If they couldn’t