A Tall, Dark Cowboy Christmas. Maisey Yates
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didn’t love it. Not even a little. But when Lindsay had been alive it had been a necessity. He’d needed that exact amount of money to keep up payments on their house. Had needed that specific kind of job so he had the kind of health insurance required to pay for her extensive treatments.
When she was gone, he hadn’t needed the job. Not anymore.
But he’d stayed in it. For years longer than he needed to. Had stayed in the house, too.
Routine, as much as anything else.
Sometimes he’d even had those chocolate meal-replacement shakes with a shot of whiskey for dinner because he’d missed them.
Realizing he was stuck, realizing that he didn’t have to live that way anymore, had been the first realization on the other side of that initial punch of grief.
That was when he’d started boxing things up. Returning some items to Lindsay’s parents, keeping just two things for himself.
Her wedding ring set and the country Christmas snowman, carved from wood that she had insisted on setting out every holiday season. He’d hated it. Had given her a hard time about how god-awful it was. Made from knotty wood, with wire arms, and strange, knitted mitten hands. He thought the thing was everything that was wrong with a holiday craft bazaar.
In the end, of course, it had been one of the things he hadn’t been able to part with.
It lived in a box up in his closet, but he had it.
The rings he kept on a chain around his neck, along with his. Hidden under his shirt, but there all the same.
It had been three years before he’d taken his own ring off his finger. He hadn’t done it for a specific reason. Not really. It was just that at some point he realized he was putting on a wedding ring every morning, and he wasn’t married.
That was when he’d added it to the chain that had her rings.
The chain seemed right.
He wasn’t married. But it was impossible not to carry that marriage with him.
It had shaped him. Changed him.
Even if there was no reason for him to live like she was still here.
Sometime after deciding to put the house up for sale, while he was still working at the power company, his drinking had gotten worse. Mostly, because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. He’d gone from one box to another.
And it was only Wyatt deciding to make some changes on the ranch that had really pulled him out of that dark, well-worn routine he’d found himself in.
His older brother had saved his life.
Damned if he’d ever tell him that, but it was the truth.
“Is this where you...eat?”
It took him a moment to realize he’d been standing there in complete silence while McKenna poked around the deck.
“Sometimes,” he said. “Sometimes we eat in the mess hall. Because it’s a little bit more centrally located than the main house. Though, when we have guests, not as much.”
“Do you have guests right now?”
He nodded. “Some. So, if we eat inside, we just make sure to avoid mealtimes. Though the appearance of ranch hands adds to the experience, I guess.”
“I would think a lot of the women would pay extra for you guys to come wandering through.” She smirked, her expression taking on an impish quality he hadn’t seen before.
He didn’t know quite what to make of that. He supposed she was saying he was good-looking.
He didn’t know why.
And he didn’t know how to feel about it, either.
“I’ll suggest Wyatt and Bennett pencil being living props into their schedule.”
“Not you?” she asked.
He shifted, feeling uncomfortable. “I think I might scare them away.”
She shrugged. “Some women dig the asshole thing.”
He cleared his throat. “I’ll make a note of that.”
He pushed open the back door, led her into the dining hall. No one was in the large room. There were rows of vacant tables and benches, all clean and ready for the next meal.
Two large dispensers of coffee from Sugar Cup were set up on a long, bright blue table that was pushed up against the back wall, along with fixings for cider, hot chocolate and tea. In exchange for sending people on to the coffeehouse, they provided the ranch with coffee. And as far as Grant was concerned, it was a pretty good deal. An employee brought out fresh urns in the morning, and picked them up in the afternoon.
Caffeine that he didn’t have to make was about the best thing he could imagine.
Except for possibly a self-refilling whiskey bottle.
“You can get coffee here in the morning,” he said. “That’s what most of us do. Wyatt and Lindy have coffee at their place, but most of the ranch hands come here.”
“Am I a...ranch hand?” she asked.
“I guess so,” he said.
The corner of her mouth tilted up, a dimple denting her cheek. “How funny.”
“Mostly, you’ll be doing chores in here, or housekeeping type stuff. Not a whole lot of heavy lifting.”
She lifted her arms, which were slim like the rest of her. “For the best.”
“Come with me, I’ll show you to your cabin.”
They walked down a long dirt road that led away from the guest cabins. Not all of the Get Out of Dodge staff lived on the property, but depending on weather or projects that were happening, it was convenient to have the lodging.
This particular little house was set far away from most of the main buildings, nestled into the trees.
It was small, with a tidy porch and a red door. It was near one of the ponds, providing a nice view from all angles. The mountains at the back, the water out the front.
He found himself looking back at her, to see if she had that look on her face again. She did. A little bit of wonder. A whole lot of awe.
“Is this it?”
“Yes,” he said.
He imagined that was an opening for witty banter of some kind. But he honestly couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t have enough experience with that kind of thing.
He walked her up to the door and punched in a code. “Four three six,” he said. “That will get you in. I’ll write it down for you.”
He pushed open the door, and held it for her. Her expression went blank as they walked inside. Like the rest of the cabins, this one had been furnished with all new stuff.
Hell, it was nicer than his place.
Small, but nice.
“Think this will work for you?”
She blinked several times in rapid succession. “Yes,” she said, her voice sounding a little bit tight. “Yes, this is fine.”
“Are you okay?”
“Are you really letting me stay here?”
“Yes,” he said. “Though, to be real technical about it, Wyatt is letting you stay here. He’s in charge. I’m just a shareholder, so to speak.”
“But I mean... You’re letting me stay here for... Nothing?”
“For work.”
She sucked in one side of her cheek, looking away from him. “I don’t have to sleep with you or anything, that’s what I’m asking.”