The Rancher's Christmas Bride. Brenda Minton
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us feed for you today,” Alex offered. But at this point, if he had any sense, he’d hightail it back to his place and take care of his own life instead of wading knee-deep into Dan’s. “Give your granddaughter the chance to be a farm girl for a few days. She’s all dressed up for the part. Might as well introduce her to country life. Maybe we’ll even take a ride over to Essie’s for lunch. My treat.”
Dan looked skeptical, but even he seemed to know when to give in. He handed over the feed can and gave his granddaughter a sharp look. “Don’t be abusing my rooster. He’ll remember that and he’ll be waiting to get back at you.”
“He’s a rooster,” she said. “I doubt roosters plot vengeance.”
“Just you wait,” was his grumbled response as he headed back to the trailer. “I’m holding you to lunch, Palermo. You’re buying.”
“What do we do now?” the woman at his side asked Alex as they headed for Dan’s old farm truck.
Alex unlocked her door and opened it. “Well, we feed Dan’s cattle. In the summer he had plenty of grass, but this time of year we feed hay and grain. In years past that would have been more of a job than it is now. Dan’s been selling off some cattle recently. I’ve actually been a little worried about him.”
“Do you think he’s okay? I mean...” She hesitated and then got in the truck. “Dementia?”
He got in and turned the key, knowing it would take a few attempts to get the old truck started. Dan had a sedan he kept parked in a carport behind the camper, but he claimed it didn’t have a battery.
“No, I don’t think he has dementia,” he answered as the truck roared to life. “His health isn’t the best but I think it’s more. Something seems off and he won’t say much about it.”
“If he’ll let me stay, maybe I can figure it out.”
Alex thought the best thing she could do was head on back to Dallas. Dan’s old camper suited him but it wasn’t the life she was used to. Not that he knew about her life or what she was used to. But he guessed she didn’t know what it was like to live in an old piece of metal when the wind blew hard from the north.
“I don’t think he’s going to let you stay,” Alex told her as they drove toward the barn.
“Have you always known him?” she asked after he’d opened the gate and they’d driven through.
“All my life. He’s always been here.”
“So you grew up in Bluebonnet?”
He stopped the truck at the feed trough and got out. She followed, watching him, then watching the cattle heading their way. She moved to his side and stayed close as he tossed a feed sack over his shoulder, pulled the string to unseal the bag and poured it out, starting at one end of the trough.
“Did you?” she asked as he went back for the second bag of grain.
“Yeah, I grew up here.”
“You don’t sound happy about that.”
“Because I’m busy and you’re asking a lot of questions.” Questions about growing up were his least favorite. There were too many bad memories attached to his childhood in Bluebonnet. Not because of the town but because his father had tarnished childhood for Alex and his siblings in a way that should have been against the law. It probably was against the law.
“Do you have siblings other than your sister?” she asked.
He pulled off his hat, swiped a hand across his brow and shook his head. “You know a guy for five seconds and suddenly you need his life story.”
She started to protest but he stopped her. Holding his hand up to quiet her, he studied the cattle that were heading across the field. His attention shifted to the slightly damp ground. And tire tracks.
“What’s wrong?” Marissa asked as she moved to stand next to him.
He pointed to the tracks in the soft earth. “Someone has been out here. On four-wheelers. And I might be wrong but there seems to be a couple of cows missing. I wouldn’t usually notice that about Dan’s herd, but he had two black baldies that looked ready to drop their calves any day. And they’re gone. I’ll ask Dan if I need to go look for them. It’s possible they’re off having their calves. But I don’t know who would have been out here with an ATV.”
“Black baldy?” she asked with narrowed eyes and her nose scrunched up.
“A black cow with a white face.”
Her mouth formed an O. “Maybe he sold them?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
He tossed the empty sacks and headed for the truck. “We’ll ask him when we get back. And then I’ll head to my place. I’ve got to get some work done before more rain hits.”
“Work? Do you have another job, other than ranching?”
Another question. He motioned her into the truck. “I used to be a bull rider. Now I ranch and I’m starting a tractor-and-equipment-repair business. I also own bucking bulls.” He got in the truck and cranked the engine. “What about you?”
“I teach kindergarten.” She said it with a soft smile but also with a little bit of sadness that he didn’t like. She looked like the type of person who walked on sunshine and never had a bad day. But that’s what he got for judging a book by its pretty cover.
Everyone had bad days. Most people had secrets or a past they didn’t want to talk about. Those were the hard facts of life. He tried to stay out of other people’s business and leave them to their own past, their own secrets.
Marissa Walker caused a man to forget those simple rules for an uninvolved life. Rule 1: don’t ask personal questions.
They were nearing the gate and he slowed. “Why don’t you open that gate for me?”
She climbed out of the truck and pulled on the gate until she had it open. A couple of times she had to stop and tug up on the jeans Lucy had loaned her. He swallowed a grin as she got back in the truck.
“I hope you enjoyed that,” she muttered.
“I did.” He leaned over to brush her cheek. “You had something on your face.”
And just like that the humor died, and he was face-to-face with the greatest temptation of his life, a woman who just last night had sat in his truck and cried. A woman who wouldn’t be around long enough to know left from right when it came to Bluebonnet.
He leaned back in the seat and put his hands on the steering wheel of the old truck. The clutch was sticky and the gears grinded a bit. It was familiar, and right now he needed familiar.
As they pulled up to Dan’s camper, his passenger let out a soft gasp and reached for the door handle before he could get the truck stopped.
“Hey, at least let me stop before you...”
She was already out of the truck, the door wide-open. He hit the emergency brake and jumped out because Dan was leaning against the side of the camper and he didn’t look too good. Alex remembered those praying lessons the pastor had been giving him, because this looked like a moment to pray for some help, to pray for an old man to take another breath.
“Dan, are you okay? Here, let me help you sit down.” Marissa had an arm around him but he was fighting her off.
“I can get myself to the house.” He leaned, wheezing as he tried to draw in a breath. “Lungs don’t work like...”
“Dan, stop talking and let us help you. We’ll go see Doc Parker.” Alex put Dan’s arm over his shoulder. The older man was taller than him by a few inches and he was still solid. He leaned heavily on Alex as they headed across the dusty yard to Alex’s truck.
“I don’t need the doc.” Dan gave one last attempt. “Trouble.