The Cowboy's Christmas Bride. Patricia Johns
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of his hopes for Brody taking it over. She glanced down at her brother’s email.
Is Nina okay? She seems distant, but I guess I’m a bit distant, too. I want to do the right thing and marry her when I get back. I know you don’t like frilly stuff, but any chance you’d pitch in and help to put together a wedding?
This family was in tatters; their finances were shaky. Right about now, doing a cattle drive with the man who’d dried up their land didn’t seem half bad compared to facing the rest of their problems.
She needed a paycheck. She’d start with that.
* * *
HARLEY WEBB ARRIVED on time with a cigarette behind his ear and a worn New Testament tucked into the front pocket of his fleece-lined jean jacket. He looked young—too young for this job. He’d barely grown a mustache and the rest of his face looked smooth as a boy’s. A cowboy hat sat firmly on his head and his hands looked too big for his wiry physique, like an overgrown puppy. So this was the bottom of the barrel, apparently.
“Harley, I take it?” Andy asked, shaking the kid’s calloused hand—at least he’d done some hard work in his life.
“That’s right,” Harley replied. “Good to meet you.”
While Dakota had the unpleasant surprise of seeing Andy instead of Chet, Andy had been the one to call Harley for an interview, and it was mildly relieving not to have to explain his presence to someone. That being said, he didn’t know this kid from Adam, and he was used to having some sort of personal association with the men who worked the ranch—either they’d worked on a neighboring ranch in the past or were related to someone from the county. Harley, however, seemed to have dropped down from above—a gangly, questionable gift.
“So where are you from?” Andy asked, leading the way into the house.
“Idaho,” he replied.
“And what brings you here?” Andy stood back while Harley came inside. He gestured to a kitchen chair and both men sat. Harley took off his hat, his thin, brown hair flattened against his forehead.
“I came out here to visit some family,” Harley said. He fiddled with the edge of his hat. “Decided to stay a bit longer, and I need to make some money.”
Andy nodded. It sounded plausible. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.” Harley laughed self-consciously. “Trust me, I get carded a lot.”
“You have some ID?” Andy asked, and Harley shrugged, leaned the side and pried a wallet out of his back pocket. His Idaho driver’s license confirmed his age.
Andy handed it back. “All right. So let’s talk experience, then.”
“I was raised on a ranch,” Harley said. “I’ve done it all. I can rope, herd, brand—you name it. I’ve done cattle drives before.”
He sounded confident enough—and today was Saturday. There wasn’t much time to find another drover if he didn’t take Harley.
“You know anyone around here who can vouch for you?” Andy asked. “You said you’re visiting family. Who are they?”
“My sister—her name is Holly Webb. She lives in town here.”
That didn’t help. He’d never heard of her. “Anyone else?”
“Sorry.” Harley shook his head. “But I’ll work hard. You can count on that. I’m honest and I’ll earn my keep.”
Andy paused, considering. Hiring someone at the car dealership was different, since he had a human resources official to check into work histories and the like. He had no way of checking out Harley’s story on such short notice. This one was left up to his gut. The way he saw it right now, they could ride with Harley or without him. Even if he wasn’t much of a drover, he’d be an extra body for night watches. That was something. On the bright side, he might be as good as he claimed. Besides, he’d showed up on time and, despite Andy’s teasing of Dakota earlier, he did value punctuality in his employees; it showed the kid wanted the job.
“Okay, well, this is what we offer.” Andy wrote a number on a slip of paper and slid it across the table. “That’s not negotiable.”
“Looks fair, sir,” Harley replied with a nod.
“If you want the job, you’re hired,” Andy said. “We start out Monday at sunup. Be here an hour early and we’ll get you fitted with a horse. I’ll need a copy of your ID...”
The next few minutes were filled with legalities and forms. There was something about Harley that Andy liked. Maybe it was that Harley was oblivious to Andy’s past and only seemed to relate to him as a boss and source of a potential paycheck. Call it vanity, but it felt good to be called “sir” again instead of the other, less flattering descriptions he’d overheard. Ordinarily he’d be more cautious about an unknown ranch hand, but lately he was a little more sympathetic toward people wanting a fresh start. They weren’t so easy to achieve and he envied those who managed it.
Plus, with Christmas coming up, he was more sentimental than usual. Christmas was hard—it had been ever since his mother had passed away right around the holiday when he was thirteen. Christmases were never the same without her. It wasn’t anything concrete like her cookies or the way she always found the perfect gift for the people she loved...it was her. Without Mom, it was like the sun dimmed and the moon went out. Those were some of the memories he hoped to escape when he left Hope after this cattle drive. Christmas needed to be in Billings this year—in his modern apartment with his new life. He couldn’t face another Christmas in Hope.
After Harley left, Andy took the paperwork into the office. He pulled out a fresh file folder and grabbed a ballpoint to write out the newest employee’s name. Andy wasn’t quite the lackadaisical jokester that Dakota took him for, but her assumptions weren’t her fault. He’d worked for that reputation out of a deep sense of hurt and betrayal. He wasn’t a guy who liked to advertise his vulnerability because, ironically enough, even though he’d put his teenage energy into proving he didn’t care, the thing he’d wanted most from the people in his community was their respect. Maybe even a “sir” now and again.
But that was long gone.
When he was a kid, his brother and his dad would go out to check on the cattle. Andy used to go with them, but he felt the inequality in how they were treated. Chet was his dad’s favorite, the one he talked to when he was explaining how something worked. Andy was just along for the ride—or that was how it felt. He was treated like a little kid, even though he was only two years younger than Chet, and when he told jokes, his dad would say, “Enough,” and the growl in his voice said it all. Mom wasn’t like that, though. When Andy told her a joke, she’d throw back her head and laugh.
She also made an amazing blueberry pie.
He’d never be like his stoic father, but he wanted a woman like his mom—full of love and laughter, who stood by her man through thick and thin. If there was one thing about Mom, she was loyal. Even when the laughter stopped and her eyes turned sad, she was still loyal.
He tucked the photocopies of Harley’s ID and his signed contract into the file folder. He dropped it in the back of the employee section of the file cabinet the way Chet had organized it.
Andy turned off the light on his way out of the office. For some reason an image of Dakota kept rising in his mind when he thought about what he wanted in life, and it was like his subconscious was taunting him. Dakota was the one woman who never would fall for his charms. She never had. In fact, she was the woman with the biggest grudge against him.
And yet there was something about the way her eyes snapped fire when she’d stood there in the driveway, cheeks pink from the chilly wind and a thumb hooked in her belt loop... If you want to know why people are so ticked with you, this is it.
Apparently he was a sucker for punishment. He’d come back to help out Chet in his time of need, and that was where it was supposed to stop.