A Rancher for Christmas. Brenda Minton
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Jake stood, rethinking what he’d come to tell her. Rethinking her. She stood on the other side of the counter, as if the granite could protect her. As he eased out of the chair, she moved a little to the right, her back against the counter. Brown eyes the unfortunate color of caramel watched him.
Unfortunate because her eyes were strangely compelling. And more, there were emotions that flickered in their depths—sadness, anger, loss. He hadn’t expected to feel anything for her other than distrust.
“I’m going to get a glass of water, nothing else,” he said.
He opened the cabinet and found a glass, filling it with cold water from the fridge. He took a drink and studied the sister of his best friend, looking for similarities. She had long straight dark blond hair that framed a face that he’d call beautiful but strong. She was tall and slim but not thin. The peasant skirt and blouse gave her a bohemian look. She would stand out in Martin’s Crossing. If she stayed. He doubted she would. She had city written all over her.
Yes, she looked enough like Lawton for him to believe she was his sister. Lawton had obviously believed it. Even before the DNA test.
“Well?” she asked.
“You remind me of your brother.”
“I hope that’s a compliment.”
“It’s an observation.” He watched her, still unsure. He’d been unsure from the beginning when Lawton first told him about her. “I need to head back to my place. You can meet me over there.”
Jake poured out the remaining water and put the glass in the dishwasher. She had moved away from him again. He didn’t comment, just walked past her and headed for the front door, grabbing his hat off the hook on his way out. She followed.
He had more on his mind than a sister who suddenly showed up when it looked as if the gravy train might have derailed in her front yard. Back at his place he had a mare about to foal. He’d lost a good cow that morning and now had a calf to tend to. He had fifty head of cattle heading to the sale tomorrow and a brother who couldn’t get his act together.
They both stopped on the porch. The temperature, typical of late November, had dropped fifteen degrees while they’d been inside. Clouds were rolling, gray and full of rain.
“How far?” She looked past him to the open land and seemed unsure. Then she focused her attention on the horse he’d tied to the post.
“Not far.” He untied his horse, tightening the girth strap and watching her over the top of the saddle. “Since I’m riding, you’ll need to go back down the drive, turn left and in a mile take a left at the entrance to the Circle M.”
“How long before you get there?”
“It’ll take me a little longer but I’m cutting through the field, so not much.” They stood there staring at each other and he noticed the softness in her brown eyes. The last thing he wanted was to give in to the softness. Lawton had immediately trusted her. That wasn’t Jake’s way. He had to be the one to draw lines and make sure no one got hurt. But he wasn’t an ogre. “I’m sorry.”
She gave a quick nod her eyes registering surprise. “Thank you.”
“He was a good man.” More words of kindness. His brother Duke would have been proud. He’d told Jake to be nice to their new sister. He’d almost laughed at that. She was not their new sister.
Jake didn’t need one more person to watch out for. His plate was full of siblings that couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble.
With a goodbye nod, he put a foot in the stirrup and swung himself into the saddle. She shot him a wary look and headed for her car.
He watched her go, holding the gray gelding steady as the horse tossed his head, eager to be on his way. The car was down the drive when he turned the horse and headed for home. The rain had blown over but the air was damp and cool. It felt good, to let Bud loose. The horse was itching to run. So was Jake. But he knew he couldn’t outrun the problem that was driving to his place in a compact car with Oklahoma tags.
Fifteen minutes later, with his horse unsaddled and back in the pasture, he headed for the house. Breezy was standing on the front porch of the stone-and-log home he’d been living in alone for more years than he cared to count. He’d be thirty-four soon. He guessed that made him a crusty bachelor.
“Pretty place,” Breezy said when he reached the front porch of the house.
“Thank you.”
He nodded toward the door. Time to get it over with. He figured she’d be here another ten minutes, and then she’d be gone and he wouldn’t have to worry about her. He’d hand her a check and they’d go their separate ways.
Today he’d said a few prayers on the matter and maybe it was wrong, but he’d prayed she’d take the out. Of course he knew God didn’t exactly answer prayers based on Jake Martin’s wants. But he’d sure be grateful if the good Lord made this easy on him.
“Let’s go inside.” He led her across the porch with the bentwood furniture. Ceiling fans hung from the porch ceiling and in the summer they made evenings almost bearable. Not that he spent a lot of time sitting out there.
“Do you live here alone?” she asked, turning a bright shade of pink. “I mean, do you have family here? In Martin’s Crossing?”
“This is my home and I do have family in Martin’s Crossing.” He didn’t plan on giving her the family history.
What would he tell her? That he and his twin sister had helped raise their younger siblings after their mom had left town, left their dad and them? This ranch had been in their family for over one hundred years and keeping it going had put his dad in an early grave. Now he’d lost his sister, and he was determined to find a way to keep the family together, keep them strong, without her.
But no, he wasn’t alone. He had his brothers, Duke and Brody. They had their little sister, Sam. Short for Samantha.
Duke lived in the old family homestead just down the road.
Their little brother, Brody, only came around when he needed a place to heal up after a bad ride on the back of a bull. The rest of the time he stayed with friends in a rented trailer in Stephenville.
Sam had been in boarding school and was now in college. Out of state. That was his idea, after she couldn’t seem to keep her mind off a certain ranch hand. Their dad, Gabe Martin, hadn’t seemed to connect with the thought that his family was falling apart. It had all been on Jake.
The house was dark and cool. He led Breezy through the living room and down the hall to his office.
He flipped the switch, bathing the room in light, and motioned for her to take a seat. He positioned himself behind the massive oak fixture and pulled out a drawer to retrieve papers.
Breezy took the seat on the other side of the desk. With a hand that trembled, she pushed long blond hair back from her face. Lawton had mentioned she sang and played guitar. Something about being a street performer in California. Jake had taken it upon himself to learn more.
“Why didn’t you come back here with Lawton?” Jake asked, pinning her with a look that always made Samantha squirm. He didn’t have kids of his own, probably never would, but he knew all the tricks.
She looked away, her attention on the fireplace.
“Miss Hernandez?”
“Call me Breezy,” she whispered as she refocused, visibly pulling herself together. “I needed time to come to terms with what he’d told me. I didn’t know how to suddenly be the sister he thought I would be. Or could be. And I have a sister in Oklahoma.”
“I understand.” It had come out of nowhere, this new family of hers. “Lawton’s dad kept his skeletons hidden pretty deeply. But as he got older—” he shrugged