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A Cowboy's Christmas Wedding
Pamela Britton


Cabe Jensen hates Christmas. After losing his beloved wife, the holidays are nothing but a painful reminder of all that was good in his world.When his best friend asks to get married at his ranch, Cabe had no idea it was to be a Christmas wedding! The worst part is he has to work with Saedra Robbins, a friend of the groom, on the plans. And Saedra can’t seem to stop herself from poking her nose everywhere, making him feel things he rather forget. Trouble is, he’s not sure what Saedra’s after. She makes herself at home around the place and his daughter likes her. All Cabe knows is he can’t stop thinking about kissing her….







CHRISTMAS MIRACLES DO HAPPEN!

Cabe Jensen hates Christmas. After losing his beloved wife, the holidays are nothing but a painful reminder of all that was good in his world. When his best friend asks to get married at his ranch, Cabe has no idea that it’s to be a Christmas wedding! The worst part is he has to work with Saedra Robbins—a friend of the groom—on the plans. And Saedra can’t seem to stop herself from poking her nose everywhere, making him feel things he’d rather forget.

Trouble is, he’s not sure what Saedra’s after. She makes herself at home around the place, and his daughter likes her. All Cabe knows is he can’t stop thinking about kissing her….


“Your wife died around this time of year, didn’t she?”

Cabe felt as though he’d been sucker punched. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He stared straight ahead still, but he spotted movement, and nearly gasped when he felt her hand on his thigh a moment later.

“Cabe, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t trying to…”

What? Be nosy? No. She wasn’t trying to be that. He knew that, but he still wanted to lash out at her, had to take deep breaths to keep from saying something he knew he might regret later.

“If it helps, I know what you’re going through.”

Oh, yeah? Had she lost a wife? Had she lost the mother of her only child? Her best friend?

“Dustin died just before the NFR and so, for me, Thanksgiving is hell.”

She released his thigh. He closed his eyes against the pain, but it wasn’t just emotional pain. Something else had filled him, something that had to do with the way her hand felt against his thigh….


Dear Reader,

My name is Bippity Boppin’ Along, and I’m a horse. You might recognize the name. I’m something of a celebrity amongst equines. I even have a bimonthly column in the American Quarter Horse Journal.

Anyway, my mom, Pamela Britton, wanted me to tell you about her new book. She thinks A Cowboy’s Christmas Wedding is one of her best books ever, but she thought if she told you that, it might sound kind of self-important, so she asked me to tell you. I know she doesn’t always say this, too, because I’ve heard her tell people at horse shows that she doesn’t love every book she writes, but she’s crazy about this one. It made her cry, she said, but honestly, that’s not uncommon. She cried during a Super Bowl commercial, although at least it was the one with the baby horse in it.

So if you’re on the fence about reading this book, she wanted me to tell you to give it a try. Nothing warms a heart better than a story about lost love, my mom says, especially when that love is found again, and then all wrapped up in a Christmas bow.

By the way, my mom loves horses, and she loves telling horse stories. I think it’s neat when she puts some of my real-life stable mates in her books. Although now that I think about it, I’m not in this one. Hmm. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing her any favors. Then again, she does feed me treats every day, and since this is a horse story, I guess I hope you enjoy it, too.

Bippy

P.S. If you want to drop my mom a line, you can find her on Facebook: www.facebook.com/pamelabritton (http://www.facebook.com/pamelabritton)


A Cowboy’s

Christmas

Wedding

Pamela Britton






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

With over a million books in print, Pamela Britton likes to call herself the best-known author nobody’s ever heard of. Of course, that changed thanks to a certain licensing agreement with that little racing organization known as NASCAR.

But before the glitz and glamour of NASCAR, Pamela wrote books that were frequently voted the best of the best by the Detroit Free Press, Barnes & Noble (two years in a row) and RT Book Reviews. She’s won numerous awards, including a National Readers’ Choice Award and a nomination for the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart® Award.

When not writing books, Pamela is a reporter for a local newspaper. She’s also a columnist for the American Quarter Horse Journal.


This one’s for one of the best barrel racers around. A person whose smile always lifts my spirits and who’s so great at listening and offering words of encouragement I swear you’re an angel on earth. You may have a bladder the size of an elephant, but your heart is even bigger and I want you to know that I appreciate you, Kelli Nichol.


Contents

Chapter One (#u73856e46-c2a0-5fba-819d-0f4f2fd6e404)

Chapter Two (#uc6b75f25-1aec-59ee-8017-24b0eab7f46e)

Chapter Three (#u629e36ba-4347-5c30-81a5-05094e0eb398)

Chapter Four (#u5c6744d2-4a0c-5488-bc2c-bdd0db44c3a7)

Chapter Five (#uc896f951-509c-5799-aa2a-de9b5dc5afbe)

Chapter Six (#ubc7d00ec-1156-58a3-aee7-a3f5efc432e3)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Saedra Robbins.”

Saedra’s whole body jerked at the sound of that voice, the piece of luggage she’d been in the middle of pulling out of her rental car momentarily forgotten.

She closed her eyes, blotting out the California mountains and pine-studded meadows that surrounded her.

Cabe Jensen. The fly in her soup. The splinter beneath her nail. The rock in her shoe. Too bad he would be her host for the next two weeks.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the man. “Cabe,” she said with as pleasant a smile as she could muster.

He stood on the porch of his two-story Victorian home painted the color of an autumn forest—buttercup-yellow—his hands resting on the white railing. From nowhere came the thought that he looked like the quintessential master of the manor standing there, his tall, broad-shouldered frame the epitome of masculinity. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Even sideburns. For a moment she wondered if he expected her to curtsy before him as if he were some kind of feudal lord.

His gaze swept her up and down. “I see you made it in one piece.”

He looked for flaws, no doubt, although he would find none in the tasteful jeans and long-sleeved brown cotton shirt she wore.

“I sure did.”

“Pleasant drive?”

“Pleasant enough.”

She’d come to California straight from Nevada where her best friend, Trent Anderson, had won the team roping average at the National Finals Rodeo with his longtime roping partner, Mac. That left her exactly two weeks to plan Trent’s wedding, something that seemed like an impossible task, especially without his bride, Alana McClintock, around. The two of them had flown home to meet Trent’s mother. That meant she was on her own with nobody but Alana’s best friend, Cabe, and Cabe’s daughter, Rana, to help her out. To top it off, she’d never planned a wedding before in her life, but it couldn’t be that hard, right? And she had the food thing dialed-in thanks to the catering business she used to own. All she had to do was make arrangements for a wedding hall. Flowers shouldn’t be too hard. Party favors. Centerpieces. Decorations. She could handle all that, and the cake....

“You need some help?” Cabe stared pointedly at her car.

She glanced at the three pieces of luggage in her trunk—two suitcases, a matching toiletry bag and a garment bag that contained the dress she would wear to Trent and Alana’s wedding, bought in Las Vegas, of course. Enough clothes for three weeks. “No, no, I’ve got it.”

“Here.” He darted down the steps.

The man didn’t know how to take no for an answer. She quickly pulled the last piece of luggage out—the small toiletry case—hoping to scoop everything up before he got there, but she should have known better. He was by her side in an instant.

“Let me have that.” He grabbed the handle of her largest suitcase before she could stop him.

“You don’t need to do that.”

She was treated to his censorious stare beneath the brim of his black cowboy hat—one that matched his shirt—but that wasn’t curled up around the rim like a traditional hat. In this part of the country, everyone wore them wide and flat. They might look silly on some cowboys, but not Cabe. Too handsome for his own good, she thought, not for the first time.

“Thanks,” she said, cursing inside because she’d meant the word to come out sounding truly thankful, but it’d come out all wrong—more grudging than grateful.

“My pleasure.”

He didn’t like her. She’d known that, although it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. She knew why, too. From the moment she’d first spotted Cabe Jensen standing in the middle of a barn aisle five months ago, she’d become a babbling moron. She hadn’t meant to sound so domineering and bossy, but she knew that’s exactly how her words had come off to his ears. She’d tried to rectify the situation at least a half dozen times, but every time she opened her mouth she said the wrong thing all over again. Drove her nuts.

“And thanks so much for letting me stay with you.” She really was grateful about that. It would make things much easier.

“It’s going to be great.” His smile looked as sickly as a cardiac patient’s. “I can’t wait.”

She almost laughed. Acting would never be his forte. “I can’t wait, either.”

He glanced back at her. She felt her cheeks flush with heat. The man had that effect on her. That, too, drove her nuts.

“I, ah...” She smiled. “It’s going to be a lot of work, of course. You know. The whole wedding in two weeks thing, but it’ll be easier with your help.”

There. That hadn’t sounded too bad.

He picked up the last of her luggage and turned to face her. She almost laughed all over again. Poor man looked like a pack mule with her luggage stacked beneath his arms.

“Don’t count on me for much help. You’re the pro.” He headed for the house before she could stop him. “And I hope you can pull it off for Alana and Trent’s sake,” he added over his shoulder.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, she found herself thinking. Typical Cabe. He was Alana’s boss and best friend, and so she bit back a sarcastic retort, but it was hard.

He paused at the top of the steps, glancing back at her. “Coming?”

She’d been staring after him like a buffoon. “I need to get my cat.”

“Excuse me?”

Oh, dear. He hadn’t been told. Darn that Alana and Trent. They should have given him a heads-up.

“Ramses.” She smiled sheepishly. “My cat. After the pharaoh. He thinks he’s king of the world, and if I’d left him behind in Colorado, he wouldn’t have spoken to me for a month. Seriously. He has major catt-itude. Didn’t Alana and Trent tell you I was bringing him along?”

Clearly not.

“I hate cats.”

Big surprise. He probably hated puppies, babies and fuzzy little chicks, too. “I promise you won’t even notice him.”

His lips tightened in a way that projected “Famous last words.”

Oh, well. Nothing she could do about it now. It wasn’t like she could ship Ramses home.

“You’ll see. He’s adorable. Nobody can resist Ramses.”

Nobody but him, she would bet.

She headed toward the front seat of the rental where Ramses had spent the past few hours riding it out—much to his dismay. The orange Peke-faced Persian stared up at her in the same way Cabe Jensen did—with a combination of resentment and disgust.

“Hey there, buddy.” She lifted the travel kennel up to her face. Ramses’s gaze moved from her to the pasture behind her, then back to her face again, pupils flaring, smooshed-in nose lifting up as if he’d caught a whiff of the pines and freshly cut grass behind her. “You okay?”

As a reply, the cat let out his trademark Persian howl, a cross between stepped-on kitty and wailing banshee. Her gaze darted to Cabe, but he just raised his brows and shook his head.

“Great,” she thought she heard him mutter.

Relax, she told herself. It wasn’t as though she and Ramses would be seeing a lot of the man. He was the proprietor of a guest ranch, one that specialized in people with disabilities. This time of year the ranch catered to a different type of clientele, Alana had told her: big-game hunters. According to Alana it was a booming business. Elk and antelope and a whole host of other animals made their home in the high California desert.

“Got anything else in there I need to know about?” he asked.

“Nope.” She cradled Ramses’s cage in front of her. “This is the last surprise.”

This time, she was certain she heard him grunt. “I hope so.”

She hoped so, too.

* * *

HE COULD FEEL her behind him.

Stubborn, opinionated woman. Why wasn’t he surprised she’d brought along her cat? And what the hell was in the suitcases he lugged up the steps of his home? Damn things weighed as much as a ship anchor.

“Wow. This is pretty, Cabe.”

Hadn’t she been in his home before? He frowned.

Now that he thought about it, she hadn’t. He’d given her a wide berth when she’d visited the ranch last summer.

“How long have you lived here?”

“All my life,” he said, struggling to get the multiple pieces of luggage up the first flight of stairs. It was like carrying bales of hay, and it took everything he had to keep his breathing under control. Damned if he’d let her see him struggle.

“You sure you don’t want help with that?” she asked, almost as if she read his mind.

“Just hold on to your cat.”

“Not my hat?”

He glanced back down at her. She smiled up at him. He decided to ignore her.

She wouldn’t let him. “The house looks really old.”

He paused for a moment, ostensibly so he could respond to her comment, but really so he could catch his breath at the top of the steps. He felt as if his arms had stretched two inches by the time he set her luggage down.

“It was built in 1859,” he all but wheezed.

“No kidding.”

At the bottom of the steps was the family room, the hardwood floor so shiny it reflected the image of a massive stone fireplace that sat kitty-corner from the front door. Claw-footed furniture was arranged around the room, a beige-and-brown cowhide lay in the middle of the floor, matching pillows on the sofa. Across from the family room, still along the front of the house, was a drawing room, and behind that, toward the back, the kitchen overlooked a side pasture that stretched all the way to the main road.

“Our family was one of the first to settle in the area.”

“Neat.”

At the look of approval in her eyes, he picked up the luggage again. Sure, he was normally a lot friendlier to his guests, and sure, he was probably a bit hard on her, but Saedra Robbins annoyed the heck out of him with her I-can-do-anything-you-can-do attitude. That was why he’d be boiled in hoof tar before he let her see how out of breath he was.

One step at a time.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Attic.”

He heard her laugh. “Going to lock me in there?”

Now there was an idea. Granted, Trent and Alana might not approve, but it sure would make his life easier. She rubbed him the wrong way, but he was also man enough to admit that part of his problem was how gorgeous the woman was. Not just mildly pretty. Not even vaguely pretty. She was breathtakingly beautiful with her wide blue eyes, full lips and heart-shaped face that featured a tiny button nose and softly rounded chin.

“Not unless you misbehave.” He was only half-kidding.

Maybe things wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d had a spare cabin for her to stay in, but with the ranch fully booked, it’d made sense to have her stay in his home. Frankly, it’d been the only option. Even the hotels were booked this time of year.

“Hmm.” Her long blond hair fell over one shoulder as she pretended to consider his words. “That sounded like a challenge.”

Was she flirting with him? He drew himself up as best he could considering his burden, arranging his face into a mask of indifference. She would learn he had no interest in women, not even a beautiful one. His damn sexual attraction was just an annoyance—nothing more.

“It was meant as a warning.”

He’d made it to the top of the steps, thank God, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Funny that she could stand beneath him on the steps, smaller by at least a foot, and yet he could still feel the urge to run away.

“Did you hear that, Ramses?” She turned the cage around so she could peer at her cat. She pitched her voice down low and gruff. “We’ve been warned.”

This would be a long couple of weeks, he thought, turning back to the task at hand. At least she was a full floor away. And with life on the ranch as busy as it was, what with livestock management and guests to entertain, he’d see very little of her.

He hoped.

“Here you go.”

He left the luggage outside her room before swinging open a door. The roofline was lower here, but only along the front of the house. It sloped upward, toward the middle of the home, allowing for two dormers, one to the left and one to the right and each with a bench seat and a puffy pillow in front of it. The perfect place to sit and daydream...or write.

He backed away from that thought like a horse spooking at a plastic bag.

“Wow.” She brushed past him, the air she disturbed leaving behind the scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Gently, she set her cat down on the daybed to her right. “This is stunning.”

Blue. His wife’s favorite color. On the walls, billowing down in drapes, echoed in the quilt on the bed.

Why hadn’t he been up here before now? Why had he waited until it was time to show Saedra to her room to make the trek upstairs?

So you could put off facing Kimberly’s hideaway and be reminded of her and all that you lost.

“Enjoy.” He brushed past her.

“Wait!” He heard her take a few steps. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Out the door, to the right.”

He couldn’t get away fast enough.

“But I thought we could go over a few things. You know, for the wedding.”

He should have let her stay in one of the guest bedrooms. He shouldn’t have allowed her up here. And he definitely should have ignored his instincts to keep her far away.

“Can’t,” he shot over his shoulder. Keep walking. “Things to do.”

“Cabe.”

Ignore her. Don’t look back. There’s no need to pretend you like the woman. She’s not a guest.

But years of playing the polite host proved impossible to ignore. He paused near the top step, slowly turned to face her despite the inner warnings to do the exact opposite. The sight of her standing there, sunlight framing her silhouette, blond hair set aglow—it did things to his insides.

So much like Kimberly.

Saedra was taller, of course, but everything else seemed the same, from the length of her hair to the shape of her body, even down to what she wore: the stone-washed jeans and formfitting long-sleeved top. He could just picture Kim standing there, a smile on her face as she chastised him for interrupting her while she’d been in the midst of writing. Usually those interruptions led to something else, something that would quickly change her teasing grin into sighs of pleasure....

“I just want to say thanks again for inviting me to stay in your home.” She rubbed her hands together, as if nervous. “I know you and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye, but I promise to make this as painless as possible.”

It wasn’t her fault he’d never gotten over the death of his wife. Not her fault at all.

Run.

He turned away before he could say something he might regret because although he might not be interested in women, his body didn’t seem to know it. And that presented one tiny little problem.

He was attracted to her.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” she called out after him.

Not if he could help it.


Chapter Two

“This is going to be fun.”

Saedra glanced at the fourteen-year-old girl who sat across from her. Cabe’s daughter, as different from Cabe in personality as sunlight was from darkness, resembled her father with the same brown hair and blue eyes.

“I sure hope so,” Saedra said, eyeing the clock. Two hours until dinnertime. Maybe she’d get lucky and he wouldn’t put in an appearance. “But I’m starting to wonder if I bit off more than I can chew.”

They were in the kitchen, a spacious room that overlooked the front pasture thanks to an octagon window where a bar-height kitchen table sat. Not for the first time Seadra found herself wondering how Cabe could have such a delightful daughter and be such a stink-butt himself.

“What do you need help with?” Rana jiggled in her chair, her brown braids falling over the front of her shoulders. She didn’t wear her cowboy hat, but she’d been wearing one when she’d gotten off the bus at the end of the driveway an hour or so ago. Saedra had watched her walk up the long road from where she and Ramses had settled on one of the pillow cushions next to the window. She’d been writing her to-do list for the wedding, but she liked the young girl. A friendly face. She needed that.

“Everything.” Saedra played with the notepad she’d used. Scrawled in her loopy handwriting was a list a mile long, or so it seemed. She sighed. “I guess the first thing to do is decide where we should have it.”

“Here.”

Saedra tried not to laugh. “Not possible, kiddo. Half the rodeo world will be attending, and you don’t have the room. You should have seen everyone at the finals—they can’t wait to watch Trent get hitched. Frankly, there’s no need to send out invitations because everyone who’s anyone is already planning to attend.”

The girl tapped her fingers on the side of her cheek, sunlight from the nearby windows making her blue eyes appear huge. “We can rent a tent.”

“What if it snows?”

“Then it’ll be a white wedding.”

Oh, if only it were that simple.

“The weight of the snow will collapse the tent.”

“Then we can move the wedding into the horse barn.”

“It’s not big enough.”

“Then I think we’re hosed.”

Hosed? She almost laughed. She hadn’t heard that term in ages. “I think we are, indeed, hosed.”

“No, really, Saedra. We’re in trouble. There’s no place in town where you can have a wedding on such short notice. It’ll be Christmas week. The churches will all be having events. So will any of the other usual places. And we don’t have a big hotel with a big wedding hall. It’s going to have to be here. Plus, I think Alana wants it that way, however we manage to do it.”

The kid had a point.

Saedra wrinkled her nose. “Okay, fine. I’ll call Alana up and ask her for her thoughts.” She made a note in the margin of her list. “What about flowers? Any florists in town?”

“Actually, two.”

Woo-hoo. Such a variety.

“I can do the wedding cake myself if I have to, although I prefer not to,” Saedra muttered. “But I’m a little stuck on the menu. I would offer to barbecue, but once again, the weather—”

“You need to talk to my dad about cooking. He’s really awesome in the kitchen. He had to learn after my mom died.”

The sadness that flitted across the girl’s face was like a wisp of fog, gone before it could fully form, but still there. Saedra’s throat sprouted a lump. Poor thing. She should really cut Cabe some slack. He’d been through a lot.

“Is there a phone book I can use?”

Rana stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language. “Phone book?”

“Yeah. You know. The yellow book with newspaper pages with numbers on them.” She sent the girl a teasing smile.

“No, but there’s Google.”

“Do you have internet?”

“Of course.” Rana gave her a look that clearly said the Jensens weren’t complete rednecks. “But I think you should go into town with my dad. You know, see what you can find. Maybe one of the Lions Club halls would work if it’s not being used.”

Not on her life—at least as far as going anywhere with her dad.

“That’s okay.” She tried for a sunny smile, although she wasn’t entirely certain if she succeeded. “I think I’ll wing it on my own. How far is town from here?”

A perplexed frown filled the girl’s face. “You passed it on your way here.”

That was town? Oh, dear. She’d thought for sure she’d missed a turnoff and that there was a big shopping mall and a residential area somewhere off in the distance. This might be more difficult than she imagined.

“What’s the next biggest town?”

“Maybe Susanville.” Rana swept a lock of brown hair off her face. “Or Reno.”

Reno. That might be an option. She’d driven through there on her way to New Horizons Ranch.

“Okay, great. I’m off, then.”

“Not without my dad.”

Saedra tucked her chair in, the legs screeching on the hardwood floors. “I don’t need your dad.”

“What if you get lost?”

“How can I get lost? There’s only one road.”

“There’s other businesses tucked off side streets.” The girl jumped off her stool. “Dad!” She turned toward the front of the house. “Saedra needs to go into town.”

“No,” Saedra cried, holding out her hands. “That’s okay. I can explore on my own.”

“Da-ad!” Rana called again.

“It’s okay, Rana. Really. No need to bother—”

“What’s all the yelling about?”

Crud. He must have been right around the corner.

“Saedra needs you to take her into town,” the girl announced.

The man filled the doorway, and without his cowboy hat, his brown wavy hair made him appear more boyish. Not at all what she would have expected.

“Actually, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“But you don’t know where anything is.” Rana met her father’s gaze. “She needs to visit the florist and maybe stop off at someplace that rents tents.”

“No, no.” Saedra pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll be fine on my own.” She shot him a smile. “Have Google, will travel.”

Cabe’s lips lifted, but not into a smile. No. More of a grimace. She could tell he searched for a graceful way out of his daughter’s request, but couldn’t think of anything.

“What time did you want to leave?”

She released a sigh of disappointment. “Really, Cabe. It’s okay. I’m sure you have a million things to do, what with guests arriving tomorrow—”

“Don’t listen to her, Dad. She’s trying to be polite, but we don’t have time for that. Trent and Alana’s wedding is in two weeks.”

And somewhere in there was Christmas, as Rana had mentioned. Come to think of it, where were all the Christmas decorations? Not so much as a jingle bell in sight.

“I can take you to town in an hour.”

“Perfect!” Rana couldn’t contain her excitement. “I’ll stay here and research outdoor weddings. Maybe someone can rent us a portable building or something.”

Saedra spun to face the little girl. “You’re not going with us?” She was certain her panic showed on her face.

“Nah. I have some homework to do. But I stay here alone all the time. No need to look so worried.”

Worried was not the word. Dismayed. Maybe even nauseous.

“In fact, I think I’ll get started on that homework now.” Rana reached for a bowl of apples sitting on a rose-colored countertop. “I’ll see you after.”

Only if Saedra didn’t run screaming for the hills.

* * *

NOT EVEN AN hour had passed and already she’d interfered with his life.

Relax, Cabe, it’s not like she doesn’t have a good reason.

Cabe tried to remind himself of that fact as he pulled up in front of his home. His daughter had had a point earlier. The sooner they got the major details of Alana’s wedding done, the sooner Saedra would be out of his hair. He was certain the woman could manage the minor details on her own.

He hoped.

She came bounding down the steps of his house like a teenager and looking younger than her years in her off-white jacket and a matching knit hat that hugged the contours of her face. The sun had already started to set, golden rays of light catching the twin edges of her pigtails and setting them afire. Pigtails. It should look stupid on someone her age, but on Saedra Robbins, it only made her look sexy. Just the sight of her sent a jolt through his insides, one that left him feeling flushed and edgy and out of sorts.

She jerked on the door handle, the loss in cabin pressure popping his ears, the smell of her assaulting his senses an instant later. Vanilla and cinnamon.

She didn’t even bother to greet him. “You don’t have to do this.”

It must have been his own internal grumpiness that made him say, “I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to.”

She’d slipped into the interior of the ranch’s black truck easily, the cabin pressure lowering once again as she slammed the door closed, that space between them suddenly smelling entirely too good for his peace of mind.

“You’re just saying that to be kind.”

Yes, he was, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Rana will understand if we tell her you changed your mind.”

“Actually, I think my daughter will make my life miserable if I don’t do exactly as she asks.”

She frowned. He faced ahead, squinting his eyes against the sunlight on the truck’s hood.

“Okay, fine.”

He put the truck in gear, trying not to spin the tires as they set off down the drive.

“What’s on your list of things to do?”

He could sense her staring at him. He refused to look at her because if he did, he might start thinking those crazy thoughts again, the ones that made his body do things it shouldn’t be doing.

You’re hard up, buddy.

Maybe he was. That had to be the reason he clenched the steering wheel so hard. Why he refused to look at her. Why he tried not to even breathe deeply. It sure as hell had nothing to do with wanting to go to bed with the woman. She’d be the last woman on earth he’d want to do that with, for myriad reasons. They were polar opposites in personality. He liked things nice and quiet, had worked hard to carve out a routine life that revolved around his ranch and catering to guests. She was used to living life in the limelight. And next year she was making a bid for the National Finals Rodeo on her barrel-racing horse....

Nope. Never in a million years would he be interested in a woman like Saedra Robbins.

“Speaking of the wedding, why don’t you have any Christmas decorations up?”

He almost slammed on the brakes. They were at the end of his driveway.

“Did you not have the time because of the NFR?”

He gripped the steering wheel even harder, probably leaving dents, his knuckles screaming in protest.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Fine.” He had to force the word past his lips.

“You look sort of...ill.”

Deep breath. “We don’t decorate the house.”

Cabe turned left, out of his driveway, but he could still feel her staring at him, still tell by the way she shifted in her seat that the words surprised her.

“Why not?”

He scanned the road left and right, the waning sunlight causing him to have to lower the brim of his hat so he could see better. “We just don’t.”

But he knew the moment he said the words that they’d only leave her more curious. He wasn’t exactly holding true to his vow to appear more friendly, now, was he?

“Is it a religious thing?”

“No.”

“Okay, good, because if it’s just a timing thing, I can help. Now would be a really good time to do it, too, you know, before things get too crazy with the wedding.”

“No.”

“No to doing it now? Or no to decorating entirely?”

“I don’t want the house decorated.”

Silence. He could sense her surprise. Off in the distance he noticed storm clouds, and Cabe mentally cursed under his breath. In all the hullabaloo surrounding her arrival he hadn’t bothered to check the weather forecast. If it was going to snow, that meant he needed to prepare, but by the time he returned from town, it’d be pitch-black outside.

She still hadn’t spoken and he knew he’d probably been too harsh. But, damn it, she needed to get it through her head that Christmas was not a good time of year. Not since...

He swallowed.

Kimberly.

“Your wife and brother died around this time of year, didn’t they?”

It felt like he’d been sucker punched. As if she’d probed an old wound that sent spasms of pain through his insides. Physical pain.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He stared straight ahead still, but he spotted movement, nearly gasped when he felt her hand on his thigh a moment later.

“Cabe, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean... I wasn’t trying to...”

What? Be nosy? No. She wasn’t trying to be that. He knew that, but he still wanted to lash out at her, had to take deep breaths to keep from saying something he knew he might regret later.

“If it helps, I know what you’re going through.”

Oh, yeah? Had she lost a wife and a brother on the same day? Had she lost the mother of her only child? Her best friend?

“Dustin died just before the NFR and so, for me, Thanksgiving is hell.”

Dustin. Trent’s best friend. And hers, too, from the sound of it.

“I didn’t mean to pry.”

She released his thigh. He closed his eyes against the pain, but it wasn’t just emotional pain. Something else had filled him, something that had to do with the way her hand felt against his leg, something that made him so instantly upset, he found himself gunning the engine.

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

He headed toward town, glancing back at her in time to see her nod.

But deep down inside, in a place Cabe had forgotten existed, a place that reminded him that he was a man who’d been without a woman for far too long, Cabe wanted to cry. Admitting that he was human, that he found Saedra attractive, was the worst thing of all.

He betrayed his wife with every damn thought.


Chapter Three

They couldn’t get to town soon enough.

The man could reduce her comfort level to that of sitting on lava rocks.

Let’s just get this over with, shall we?

Maybe she should give him tit for tat. Maybe she should spoon him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe she should make him feel as uncomfortable as he made her feel.

When they pulled to a stop in front of a cute little place that had obviously been converted from a single-story house into a florist shop, she smiled brightly and asked, “You’re coming in with me, right?”

His eyes widened, his face rearranging itself into that of a man who’d just been told he would receive a tetanus shot. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

He wore his black cowboy hat again, and to be honest, it really did make his eyes look ridiculously pretty. They were so light. So startling in color. It wasn’t fair that eyes such as his should be wasted on such a sourpuss of a man.

“You should come. You’re Alana’s best friend. You know her better than I do.”

Nope. Not a happy camper. Good.

“Fine.”

Fine, she mimicked in her own head, happy to escape the truck.

The low-slung home had been painted purple, sparkly Christmas lights surrounding the perimeter of a large picture window in front. Inside she could see refrigerators full of flowers and large plants everywhere. When she opened the door, her nose picked up the scent of eucalyptus and roses. It made her smile for some silly reason.

“I just love roses,” she said, looking into his handsome face and seeing his frown. “Do you think Alana likes them, too?”

“No.”

Terrific. Maybe this hadn’t been such a bright idea, after all.

“Ooo-kay... So what kind of flowers does she like?”

She saw him peek around the shop, saw his gaze settle on some giant Christmas baskets wrapped in cellophane, then move on to a basket of flowers with giant red mums and light green fern.

“There.” He pointed. “Sort of like those.”

Okay. It was a start.

“Can I help you?” asked a perky-looking blonde with ultrashort hair that featured a streak of red nearly the same shade as the flowers.

“Actually, yes.” Saedra approached the front counter. “I need to order flowers for a wedding.”

The woman smiled brightly. “Okay, great. We have a book right here of arrangements if you want to look it over.” She pulled what appeared to be a photo album from behind the counter. “When is the wedding?”

The moment of truth. “Um. In a couple weeks.”

Lips painted ruby-red dropped open revealing a pierced tongue that caught Saedra’s attention. Then she said, “You’re kidding, right?”

Saedra winced. “Um, no.”

“How many arrangements were you thinking?”

“How many can you squeeze in?” Cabe asked for her.

“How big is the bridal party?” the clerk asked.

“Not big.” Saedra smiled encouragingly. “We need a bouquet for the bride and something for the maid of honor and a groomsman, and maybe some flowers for centerpieces and whatnot.”

The words seemed to kill the deal because the woman shook her head. “Under normal circumstances it wouldn’t be an issue, but we’ve been slammed. One of the biggest businesses in town is having a huge Christmas party for their employees, and we have our regular orders, plus a few other parties. Sorry. But I really don’t think we can do it.”

Saedra told herself not to panic. There was still the one other florist in town, and if that failed, the local grocery store.

“All right, thanks.”

On her way to the door, she stopped at a display of Christmas ornaments, tiny angels dangling from bright red strings, glass balls covered with glitter, twinkling lights glinting off it all.

“Aren’t those pretty?”

Cabe had already left the shop. She felt her own mouth drop open, watched as he climbed into his black truck, before glancing back at the tree. How sad that Christmas no longer held any joy for him. No wonder he was always in a grumpy mood.

“You might try Reynolds Florist shop on Second Street,” the clerk said.

“Thanks. I’ll do that.”

A half hour later, she knew it was useless. “Maybe I could pick some wildflowers,” she muttered. “I’m sure there’s some up in the hills, right?”

“You’ll have to get them from Reno or Susanville.”

“Why? Wildflowers don’t grow locally?” she teased.

He blinked, glanced down at her, then frowned. “I meant the flowers.”

“You don’t like my wildflowers idea?”

“There’s no wildflowers up in the hills this time of year.”

No sense of humor, either. What a mess. At least she had some experience with his type of problem. Her best friend, Trent, had been in a similar frame of mind after the accident that had claimed the life of their mutual best friend, Dustin, and nearly taken Trent’s own life, too. Trent had only learned to walk again with Alana’s help, which was how they’d all met, only Trent seemed light-years ahead of Cabe emotionally.

“So maybe we can make a bridal bouquet out of papier-mâché?”

Blank stare.

“Or Christmas bows.” She sat up straighter. “Speaking of that, I wonder if Alana wants a bachelorette party? You know of any good strip clubs?”

She was just joking, of course, hoping to get a rise out of him. He just started the truck and asked, “Where to next?”

“Hell in a handbasket?”

He glared.

“I guess the local rental place.” She kept from rolling her eyes, but only just barely. “There is a rental place around here, isn’t there?”

“There is.” He put the truck in gear. “Doubt they rent tents.”

Cabe the Cheerless. Her new nickname for him.

“Maybe they rent holiday cheer.”

He about gave himself whiplash. “Excuse me?”

“Kidding, kidding.” She lifted a hand. “Drive on, Jeeves.”

* * *

FANCIED HERSELF A COMEDIAN, did she? Too bad he didn’t feel much like laughing—at least not while she was around.

“Is there a place that sells meat by the bulk, too? I was thinking I could cook a tri-tip dinner.”

The sun had sunk below the horizon, reminding Cabe of the time. Would the rental place even be open? Just after five and already the sun was down. He hated this time of year.

“There’s a local butcher’s shop. He might have some ideas.”

“Good. We could go there, too.”

He nearly closed his eyes. He had no idea what the hell was wrong with him, but every time she was near he had the darnedest time concentrating on anything but her shapely curves. It was as if he’d been injected with teenage hormones, and frankly, he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“Anyplace else you’d like to see?”

“Weeell, the Eiffel Tower and maybe Westminster Abbey, but I figure I’ll get to Europe someday. No need to go now.”

She was jerking his chain again, of course, and he wished he knew why the heck her sense of humor always drove him nuts, too. Between his inability to keep his mind off how good she smelled, and her caustic quips, he would have liked to turn the truck around and go home.

“What about a craft store?” She stared at some sort of list she’d written up. “Do you have one of those? Might as well get it over with.”

“If you’re thinking fake flowers for Alana’s wedding, she wouldn’t like that.”

“Ah!” she said so loudly that it nearly startled him. “An actual opinion. Thank you!”

Smart-ass.

The words were on the edge of his lips, ready to tumble into the abyss of rude comments. Instead, he gripped the wheel and headed for the rental company.

They didn’t rent tents.

The owner—a baldheaded man who seemed only too happy to ogle Saedra indefinitely—suggested a party rental place Cabe had never heard of. Alas, that meant another trip across town, only to be told they didn’t rent tents, either. They suggested a local men’s club that had their own tents, which they sometimes rented. So that prompted yet another trip across town, but that turned out to be a dead end, too.

“I give up,” Saedra said, flopping into the passenger seat of his truck a half hour later.

“Thank God.”

She glared. He glared back. She smiled. He looked away.

“I guess it’s plastic flowers and rain ponchos for everyone.” She was joking, of course, he could see that, and it was damn hard to keep his lips from smiling in return. “Maybe we could hand out umbrellas for wedding favors.”

“Please, no.”

The smile grew, and from nowhere came the thought that she reminded him of the young fillies he used to break for a local rancher. Obstinate and pigheaded at times, but a heart of gold deep inside. She really was taking her duties seriously, and she was clearly crushed that it wasn’t all coming together.

“Seriously, I need to go to a craft store to look for wedding favors.”

“We could always get jelly beans and bubblegum balls.” He didn’t know where the words came from, but he was glad to hear her chuckle.

“You’re okay with gum balls but not plastic flowers. Who knew?”

His lips smiled, but they did so without his permission. He forced them back into a pinched line.

“Next you’ll suggest frozen pizza and hot dogs for dinner,” she added.

He didn’t want to like her.

He’d spent the past hour trying to ignore how appealing she was only to realize it was more than her physical good looks. It was the sparkle in her eyes, too.

Kimberly had had the same sparkle.

“Speaking of dinner.” He saw her take a deep breath, watched as she turned in her seat and faced him, giving him a smile. “How about we grab a bite to eat?”


Chapter Four

“No.”

Saedra tried not to let his single-word retort get her down. So what if he didn’t want to go to dinner? No reason to cry over it. Not that she was crying, mind you; it just surprised her that right when she thought she’d made some progress, he’d gone back to his old self.

Face it. You’re not used to rejection.

It sounded completely egotistical, but it was, in truth, a fact of life that she attracted male attention...lots of male attention. This had cost her many female friendships over the years, so much so that she’d taken to having male friends, like Trent and Mac, rather than deal with all the drama. And now here was a man who clearly didn’t like her.

“No problem. Let’s head to the craft store,” she said.

He didn’t go into the store with her. Didn’t so much as look at her when she climbed back into the car empty-handed.

“No gum balls,” she said.

He started the truck’s engine. She gave up. Clearly, she fought a losing battle.

They arrived back at the ranch shortly thereafter, Saedra armed with a list of things to ask Alana, but she was sidetracked by Rana the moment she entered through the door.

“Ohmygosh.” The teenager tugged her toward a room toward the back of the house, Cabe all but sprinting past her and disappearing to goodness knew where. “I found the perfect tent for Alana’s wedding.”

She opened the door to a room that was clearly Cabe’s study, a room filled with books, something that brought Saedra up short. Gorgeous brown oak shelves matched a desk in front of a giant picture window, and Saedra caught a glimpse of their reflections in the glass thanks to the darkness outside.

“I’ve been looking online and it turns out there’s a place that rents tents in Reno, which is only a couple of hours away, but the website says they deliver, and so I called, but they were closed already, but if you look right here...”

Rana still had ahold of her arms, twin braids nearly slapping Saedra in the face as the girl spun to face the computer, her fingers tapping the keyboard of a sleek laptop.

“See?”

After the dismal few hours she’d just spent, it was a balm to Saedra’s soul to witness the girl’s enthusiasm. Maybe her stay at the Jensen household wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

“Don’t you love it?”

She would have to admit, the tent looked perfect for their purposes, though it didn’t look a thing like a traditional tent, more like the Swiss Alps with its multiple peaks and steep edges.

“It says the tent’s designed to repel snow off the edges and that they have portable heaters you can rent, too.”

Saedra hadn’t known how tense she was until she expelled a deep sigh of relief. “It’s perfect.”

A squeal leaked out of the girl just before she turned and gave her a hug.

“Do we know how much?” Saedra asked, leaning toward the screen.

“No price.”

That didn’t bode well.

“But Trent said cost wasn’t an issue, remember?”

Yeah, but there was cost and then there was cost.

“Let’s see what else they have.”

They cruised around the website, Saedra spying several tents that might work. They also rented tables and chairs and chafing dishes, silverware and plates— everything they needed.

“One-stop shopping.” Saedra turned to Rana. “Good job, kiddo. This place looks perfect. I’ll call them tomorrow.”

“My mom used them once.” The little girl lost her smile for a moment. “We had a fundraiser out here for my school before...”

Her world had been turned upside down. Alana had told her about it. Cabe’s wife and brother had been killed and Rana critically injured. Rana had lost the use of her legs. They’d thought she’d never walk again, but Alana had taken on the role of therapist. They’d used horses to strengthen Rana’s legs. It was how New Horizons Ranch had gotten its start. Alana had found her calling and Cabe had found something to keep his mind off his loss, or so Saedra surmised.

“It must have been hard,” Saedra found herself saying, “what you went through.”

It broke her heart to see the pain on Rana’s face. “Harder for my dad.” Saedra saw the girl take a deep breath before meeting her gaze. “I was out of it for the first few months. They had me on a lot of medication. But my dad...” She shook her head. “He had to take care of...everything.”

She’d missed her mom’s funeral. Alana had told her that, too. Poor Rana had been bed bound for months. Cabe had made all the arrangements. He’d had Alana for support, the two of them grieving together, but it’d been a horrible time, Alana had admitted. No wonder Cabe was such a curmudgeon.

“And now here we are.” She touched the girl’s arm lightly. “Planning a wedding.”

The smile returned, although not as brightly. “It’s going to be fun.”

Fun.

That’s what the Jensens needed, Alana thought. Fun. They were both stuck in the past. Oh, sure, they appeared to have moved on, what with starting New Horizons Ranch and opening their home to strangers, but their pain was still there, bubbling beneath the surface. It tugged at Alana’s heartstrings and she vowed to do whatever she could to help them both.

“You know what I think?”

Rana’s gaze hooked her own. “What?”

“I think we need to decorate the house for Christmas.”

“Oh, no. We couldn’t do that. My dad, he wouldn’t—”

“Approve,” Alana finished for her. “I know.” Just as she knew she had to tread carefully, too. “But how would you feel if the house was decorated?”

Rana’s smile brightened again. “I would love it.” She seemed almost ashamed to admit it, though. “I miss Christmas.”

She was still a child for all her outward appearance. A teenager, yes, but still young enough to be excited about presents and stockings and Christmas cheer.

“We should do it,” Saedra said.

“My dad—”

“Leave him to me.”

Fun.

They needed it bad, and she was just the person to show them how it was done.

* * *

HE MANAGED TO avoid Saedra the next day, which wasn’t hard to accomplish with guests in residence. All it took was the offer of a guided hunt and one of his best customers, a dealership owner from the city, leaped at the chance. Cabe leaped at the opportunity to leave the ranch.

He was gone all day. When he returned later that afternoon, it was to note every light in his house ablaze and the sound of music thumping through the window.

“Damn.”

He thought about turning around. There was always work to do in the barn. He could sweep out the feed room or rearrange the saddles, maybe muck some stalls.

His empty belly put a stop to such thoughts. It was his house and he’d be damned if he allowed a woman to scare him out of it.

The music coming from his study nearly deafened him, Cabe counseling himself to take it easy on Rana. Sometimes he forgot that she was a teenager and that blaring music at unhealthy levels was a rite of passage.

But it wasn’t Rana who was playing the music.

He drew up short in the doorway as Saedra glanced up, a smile unfurling across her face like the petals on a flower. She was seated behind his desk, a fuzzy off-white sweater with a cowl neckline hugging a body that belonged in a Victoria’s Secret catalog. Her long blond hair hung loose around her shoulders as she swung the chair from side to side. She half closed the screen of the laptop Rana must have allowed her to borrow.

“There you are,” she said, but she had to yell to be heard. “I was wondering when you’d get back.”

“Here I am,” he repeated back faintly. The truth was, the sight of her sitting there had completely poleaxed him.

“How was the great safari?”

He was so befuddled he heard himself ask, “Safari?”

“Your big-game hunt.” She fashioned a pistol out of her fingers, mimicked the sound of a gun. “Bag any big ones?” The pistol morphed into an antler at the side of her head, her other hand joining the first, fingers splayed. “Eight pointers.”

He glanced at the stereo, though if he were honest with himself he did so to prevent her from seeing a smile, although why he wanted to keep his grin to himself he had no idea. “Can we turn that down?”

“That,” she said over the pounding beat, “is our homework assignment for the night.”

Why did he have a feeling he wouldn’t like what she had to say?

“We need to choose music for the wedding.”

“Can’t Alana and Trent choose their own music?”

She tossed him a single shake of her head. “I suppose they could, but I would bet that between the two of us we can do a pretty good job. You know Alana like the back of your hand and I know Trent. Ergo, we can do it ourselves.”

When he straightened away from the stereo, the music blissfully silenced, he caught sight of something else. Stacked on a table near one of the bookcases were pink boxes, the kind one found in bakeries and doughnut shops.

“That’s our other task.” She pointed, giving him an impish smile. “You’re going to help me choose a wedding cake.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

He shook his head in case she had really missed his meaning. “I haven’t eaten today. The last thing I need is sugar.” And loud music, but he kept the last to himself.

“I thought of that.” She got up from her seat. “Before Rana left for her friend’s house, I made dinner. Fried chicken. One of my other specialties. Go ahead and eat.”

“Rana went to a friend’s?”

She nodded.

He suddenly felt as though he lost ten pints of blood. “We’re alone?”

She made scary fingers. “Yes,” she said in what sounded like a Russian accent. “But I promise not to drink your blood.”

He blinked, blood having come out sounding like blah-ud. He almost smiled again.

“When will she be back?”

“She was hoping to spend the night. Said she’d call you later on.”

No. That wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t spending a night under the same roof as Saedra Robbins. Alone. Just the thought did something to his body that he’d rather not think about.

“Actually, I have to go out tonight.”

“No, you don’t.”

He about did a double take.

“I had Rana check your schedule. You don’t have anything planned.”

“Rana’s not my social director.”

“No, but she said you always check in with her. Always.”

Busted. “Something came up.”

“What?”

None of your business. That’s what he wanted to shout. “I need to do some paperwork in my office.” He quickly pointed toward the front door. “The one in the barn.”

Her face lit up. It was amazing what happened to her eyes when that happened. They practically sparkled. “Okay, good. I can finish downloading the music while you finish up your work.”

If he protested any more, he’d end up sounding like a jerk. “Fine.”

And that didn’t sound jerklike?

He silenced himself by leaving. He wasn’t really lying. Not really. He always had paperwork to do, but she insisted on sending him off with a plate full of chicken. Once his belly was full, it was hard to resist the urge to hide in his office for the rest of the night, but a beep on his phone, followed by a voice announcing, “I’m done,” preempted the notion. Someone had taught her to use the intercom system. Great.

He took his time walking down the steps that ran alongside the back wall of the feed room. The smell of sweetened oats filled his nose, and the quiet nickering of horses soothed his frayed nerves. The twelve-stall barn was only a couple of years old, built when they opened the ranch to visitors, and it housed the horses they used for their therapy program. Fluorescent lights hung from the middle of the barn aisle. Horse heads popped up one by one as he walked by. They’d installed an arena off the front, and to his left and out back behind the barn stretched acres and acres of pasture, but for now he headed right and toward the pathway that led to his house. Through the tall pines he could make out his study light, and above that, Rana’s bedroom light. She must have left it on. Darn kid. One of these days he was going to make her pay the power bill.

That sweater of Saedra’s really did hug her every curve. He had occasion to notice the moment he walked in the door, since the woman all but bounded out of the kitchen and into the foyer. What the sweater didn’t cover, skintight black leggings did, the ends tucked into lamb’s fleece and brown suede boots.

“I hope you like sweets.”

Only if she was on the menu.

He winced. She didn’t seem to notice—she was too busy motioning toward the kitchen and the pink boxes, which she’d moved onto the bar-height kitchen table. “I thought we could listen to the music I downloaded earlier while you do some tasting.”

“Terrific.”

He couldn’t have sounded more sarcastic if he tried. He knew that. Told himself to lighten up a bit. He’d morphed into some kind of computer program that went into nasty default mode whenever she stood near.

“Okay, here we go.” His tone of voice didn’t appear to get her down. If anything, she seemed to perk up even more, even waved her iPod at him. “Let me just plug this into the player I brought down earlier.” She spun toward a long counter that separated the kitchen from his family room. Two seconds later the soft voice of Clint Black filled the room. She turned back to him with a smile. “You like that?”

“I think it’s more important that Trent and Alana like it.”

“I know, but Trent loves this song, and I just wondered if Alana might like it, too.”

“If it’s country, she’ll like it.”

“Perfect.” She patted the back of a bar stool. “Now sit.”

He cocked his head. “Just cut me a slice and I’ll taste.”

“Nope.” She opened one of the pink boxes. “We’re going to have some fun while you do this.”

“Fun?”

When she faced him again, long blond hair shimmering, she seemed on the verge of a laugh. “Yes. You remember what fun is, don’t you?”

“Of course.” What kind of person did she think he was? “I just don’t see what it has to do with tasting cake.”

“It turns out there’s a plethora of bakers in the area. Most of them were kind enough to whip something up for me today given the short notice, so I need you to tell me which of the six cakes you like.”

“Six?”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve already made my choice. Now it’s your turn.”

He scouted the table. “Where’s a fork?”

“Oh, no. I don’t want you to see who’s made what in case you know these people. I want only the best for Alana and Trent.”

“What? You think I’d choose a cake because it’s someone I know?”

“You might play favorites, and so I’m going to blindfold you.”

He gaped, but only for a moment. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Come on.”

She couldn’t be serious.

He glanced at the cake in question. “Just pull them out of the boxes so I can’t tell which one came from which store.”

She seemed startled by his suggestion. She, too, glanced at the boxes before turning back to him with a frown. “What’s the fun in that?” And she sounded so disappointed it was almost comical. “C’mon.” She tipped her head sideways and gave him a look meant to charm him into cooperating. “You need to loosen up. Even Rana thought it was a good idea.”

“Then I suggest you play pin the tail on the cake batter with Rana.”

She plopped down in the chair next to him, and if he were honest with himself, he could admit to feeling just a little bad about spoiling her mood. Just a little.

“Okay, fine. Open your mouth.”

“Excuse me?”

She picked up a fork, opened one of the boxes, then stabbed a piece of cake. “Open.”

“I’m not three years old.”

“Of course not, but you’re still going to do a blind taste test. Well, sort of blind. Here. Open.”

She adopted such a look of ferocious determination that he found himself opening his mouth despite himself. Sugar and lemon and vanilla filled his mouth. Cabe suddenly felt self-conscious as he chewed.

“Tastes like cake.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” Her left brow lifted. “Well?”

“I guess it’s okay.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Wow. What a ringing endorsement. Okay. Next.”

Before she could stuff another forkful in his mouth, he lifted a hand. “Why don’t you and Rana just decide?”

“Because you’re a part of this wedding, too, and with Trent and Alana not here, we’re it. So, open.”

Once again, he did as instructed even though a voice inside his head told him to put his foot down. Utter nonsense.

But the piece of cake she fed him was good.

“Oooh. You like that one, don’t you?”

“Wait,” he said through a mouth full of white cake with some kind of strawberry frosting that was so good he wanted another bite. “What makes you think I like it?”

She reached for another box. “You’re like a newspaper. I can read the headlines from a mile away. Here’s another one.”

How the hell did she do it? How had she gotten him to eat—almost literally—out of her hand, and why was he fighting so hard to keep his face free of expression as he tasted the next piece?

“You don’t like that one, either. Okay. Next.”

“What?” He swallowed. Actually, he almost gagged. Ugh. Nasty, greasy frosting. “You didn’t even give me time to taste it.”

“I could tell the minute your mouth closed, and I don’t blame you for disliking that one. I didn’t like it, either.”

“Ah,” he muttered. “So you’re the one that’s biased. See. You should just decide for me.”

“I’m not biased. Some of the cakes I really liked and other ones I didn’t. Rana, too. You’re the tiebreaker.”

She held up the fork again. He eyed the piece she was about to feed him. After that last one, he should be more cautious.

“I’m not a big fan of cream fillings,” he admitted, eyeing the white cake and white frosting.

“Me, neither, but taste it just the same. You might be surprised.”

But she missed, her other hand instantly lifting to help push the cake into his mouth, her fingers grazing his lips.

He nearly gasped.

Zapped by an electric fence, that was what it felt like. As if a million joules of energy stole his breath away. He froze.

“Well?”

His taste buds failed to function, too. So did his heart. And his lungs.

“Good,” he managed to mumble.

“Just good?”

It took every ounce of control not to jerk away. Not to jump to his feet and dash away.

“I like the strawberry one better.”

She nodded. He sat there.

What the hell was that?

But he knew. That was more than mere sexual attraction. That was want. That was need. That was trouble.


Chapter Five

He bolted.

That was the only way to describe what happened after he tasted the last piece of cake. The man didn’t even have the common decency to listen to the music she’d downloaded, just offered a flip, “Have Rana do it.”

She’d touched him. And it had freaked him out.

She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told him she could read his face, so as she climbed into bed that night, she brought up the memory of his face and reexamined every angle.

Instant awareness. Physical attraction. Desire.

It’d been all there, plain as day, and it had taken her completely by surprise as the reason for his animosity became patently clear.

He liked her. Liked liked her. As in he wanted her in his bed.

The thought made her giggle like a schoolgirl, and she rolled onto her side, causing Ramses to let out a mew of protest.

“Oh, stop it,” she warned the cat. “You know you want to cuddle with me.”

The cat started purring, but only after Saedra stroked his back. Silly cat. Typical male. Complain, complain, when really, deep inside, they wanted attention. That was Cabe’s problem, too. She wondered if he was in his own bed, below her, thinking about her.

Of course he was.

That made her giggle some more. It wasn’t funny, though, she sternly told herself. The man had issues. Major, major issues that would make him horrible boyfriend material.

She should ignore him.

That’s what she told herself as she continued to pet Ramses. Now that she knew he suffered from severe sexual frustration, maybe she should cut him some slack, too. It’d been months since she’d had a sexual partner herself. Actually, more like a year. Who had time for relationships when you ran a successful business like her Buckaroo Barbecue, or his New Horizons Ranch? It was only recently that she’d had time to even think about the opposite sex, and then only in terms of what Trent might like for a wedding present. If she were honest with herself, she could do with some good, old-fashioned sex herself, but not with Cabe.

Why not with Cabe?

Stupid, ridiculous thought, she told herself, her eyes drifting closed. Her subconscious picked up on her thoughts about Cabe and ran with it. She dreamed that night: her fantasies featured a dark-haired man with sideburns and a toned upper body that, in her dreams at least, felt as soft as silk yet was as hard as iron.

“This is not good,” she told Ramses as she dressed the next morning. The cat sat on the windowsill, cleaning himself in a patch of sunlight, and completely ignoring her. “Not that you care.”

Rana must have still been asleep, since Saedra encountered only silence as she made her way downstairs. The girl was on Christmas vacation until after the wedding. At least the teenager could serve as a buffer. This morning Saedra needed to call the rental place in Reno. And then there was the issue of Christmas and the decorations, which Rana had told her were stored in the attic. As luck would have it, the entrance was right by her room, through what looked like a pantry door next to the stairwell. Might as well see what they had. The wedding would be on Christmas Day and she planned to do it up right. It wouldn’t be a winter wedding without them.

Saedra marveled when she opened the trapdoor. It wasn’t really an attic space, but more like a room. Skylights illuminated a crawl space big enough for someone to stand in and wide enough to fit a bed and a dresser. To her left were blue plastic tubs labeled Christmas, Fall, Spring, Summer... Saedra having no doubt they were decorations. To her right were bags of what looked like clothes.

Creeping forward, she peered inside one of them, taking a step back when she realized what they were.

His wife’s clothes. Bags and bags of them.

Her stomach curdled with sadness as she looked around, imagining the pain Cabe and Rana must have gone through as they’d bagged up not just Kimberly’s things, but Brayden’s things, as well. Sure, she’d lost Dustin last year, but he’d been a friend, nothing like losing a wife and a brother on the same day.

“No wonder you’re such a mess,” she told a Cabe that was nowhere in sight.

Amazing that Rana hadn’t been more affected. Alana had told her the girl suffered from horrible nightmares. It was one of the reasons Alana had insisted she and Trent would spend their summers at New Horizons Ranch. Cabe had coped as well as could be expected, Alana had also told her, but clearly his scars ran deep, too. It’d been years since his wife’s death. Years. Clearly, he still wasn’t over it.

Maybe she could change all that. Maybe what this place needed was her, someone who had lost her parents at a young age, but who had gone on to survive despite her grief. Yes, she’d ended up with a twisted sense of humor. Maybe even a macabre sense of humor, but she’d learned the hard way that death was a part of life. It sucked, but if you didn’t move on, it would bring you down.

Like Cabe.

So. Taking a deep breath, she turned toward the boxes. In for a penny, in for a pound. Rana had given her the go-ahead. That was good enough for Saedra. Cabe might not like it, but he’d learn to deal.

An hour later she stood in the middle of Cabe’s study, scanning the open tubs of Christmas decorations and wondering where to start.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She jumped.

“Get the hell away from that stuff.”

She’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but she actually felt the blood drain from her face at Cabe’s tone of voice.

“Hey, Cabe.”

Smile.

Beneath his black cowboy hat his blue eyes blazed. He wore a brown Carhartt jacket and matching pants tucked into leather hunting boots, and Saedra thought he couldn’t look more masculine—and more furious—if he tried.

Smile bigger.

But it was hard not to blanch. Even beneath his jacket she could tell his shoulders were as tightly stretched as a bow.

Dear me.

“Put. Those. Back.”

She glanced down at the boxes. “The Christmas decorations? Why?”

Pretending innocence was not the correct thing to do. That became apparent the moment the words slid from her mouth because, if he’d looked furious before, he appeared positively enraged now.

“You know damn well why.”

Yes, she did.

“But we need these to decorate for the wedding.”

“No, you don’t.” His jaw ticked all the way up to his sideburns.

The smile on her face slowly wilted. “But if we don’t use Christmas decorations, people might think it strange.”

“Get them out of here.”

He spun on his heel. Saedra’s spine chose that moment to collapse. A few seconds later, she heard his footsteps on the stairway. Boom. Boom. Boom.

“Oh, dear.”

That hadn’t gone well at all. Actually, she’d been expecting to have the place done by the time he came home. Just her luck that he would pop in before she could even start.

A few moments later she heard his footsteps again and then the slamming of the front door.

“What’d he say?”

She jumped—again.

“All I heard was the booming of his feet,” Rana said.

“I think China heard the booming of his feet.”

“What’d he say?”

“To put the decorations back.”

She noticed the girl’s John Deere pajamas, the green-colored fabric sporting yellow tractor logos. She looked so much like her dad it was uncanny, but she had a different nose, likely taking after her mother in that respect. It was a tiny little stub of a thing that made her look younger than her years, especially with her hair pulled back into a ponytail.

“You going to do it?”

“Should I?”

Rana’s gaze caught on the boxes, her eyes going dull. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

Saedra put her arms around the girl. “It isn’t your fault, hon. Not at all. Your dad needs to get over his big, bad self.”

“He can be such a grump at times,” the teenager muttered.

The words so closely echoed Saedra’s own thoughts that she smiled. “It’s okay. I can put them back.”

“No. Don’t.”

Saedra drew back, surprised to see the determination in the teenager’s face. She looked mature beyond her years all of sudden.

“He’s wrong.” She motioned to the boxes. “Hiding mom’s decorations... It’s gone on long enough.” She lifted her chin. “My mom would never have wanted us to ignore Christmas.”

* * *

HE COULDN’T BELIEVE the woman’s audacity.

Cabe mashed the pedal of his four-wheel drive vehicle, gravel kicking up by the tires of the trucklike ATV, the winter wind prickling his skin.

Who did she think she was?

His wheels kicked right. He took his foot off the gas, refusing to kill himself because Saedra had crossed the line. The tall pines around him cast triangular patterns on the ground, the air beneath the canopy of needles chilling him to the bone. From the seat next to him he retrieved a pair of leather gloves, taking care to pull them on while navigating the half-mile-long road that led to the cabins. The drive should have soothed him. Usually, the sweeping meadows and the groves of trees reminded him of what he had to be grateful for. Sure, he might have lost his brother and his wife, but he still had Rana—that was a miracle all on its own.

Christmas decorations. After he specifically told her he didn’t decorate.

The pathway swept to the right, the road sweeping down a small hill. The vista ahead should have calmed him down, too, with the Pit River to his right, eight cabins on his left, one right next to another, and beyond all that, more meadows and pasture and mountains in the distance. He lived in a part of California that was rarely seen. Far to the north, near the Nevada border, the Pacific Rim’s volcanic legacy was evident in the cone-shaped mountaintops, many of them dormant volcanoes, all of them in the distance.

He had to drop off supplies to one of his guests, an attorney from the Bay Area and a man Cabe didn’t particularly care for. During yesterday’s hunt all the man had cared about was “bagging the big one.” He’d damn near shot another hunter in his eagerness. Thank God Cabe had stopped him in the nick of time.

“Just the man I wanted to see.”

Cabe turned away from the bed of the John Deere Mule, a package of four-ply toilet paper in his arms, in time to spy the dark-haired attorney on the front porch of the cabin. All of the cabins had porches. All of them were made out of logs, too, the attorney—Stewart was his name—having called them quaint even though they were big enough to house a family of four.

“My toilet paper.” The man reached for the bag of four-ply Cabe had made a special trip into town to fetch. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He was used to dealing with guests like Stewart, although they more frequently arrived with hunting season. They were men who were masters of their own universe back in town. They seemed to think that meant they could be in charge out in the wilderness, too, but they learned quickly that wasn’t the case. Usually. Stewart had laughed when Cabe had told him he’d almost shot another hunter. That hadn’t endeared him to Cabe at all.

“Anything else I can get you?”

Stewart smiled a greasy, oily smile that reminded Cabe of an infomercial salesman. “Yeah, the phone number of that blonde staying with you.” He set the package of toilet paper down. “I hear she’s single.”

Cabe’s jaw popped he clenched his teeth down so hard. “Yeah?” He rested his hands on his hips. “Who’d you hear that from?”

“Your daughter.”

He would have to have a little talk with Rana about revealing information to their guests. “I think she’s seeing someone.”

Me.

The ridiculousness of the thought sent his mood plummeting even further.

“Yeah? Any way to find out for sure?”

It was rare for Cabe to dislike a guest this much, but he’d really started to despise Stewart and his pushy ways. The man probably thought a woman like Saedra would jump at the chance to date a big-time attorney from the city. Then again, maybe he should give the guy Saedra’s number anyway. He’d learn for himself that she wasn’t into city slickers.

And how do you know that?

“But I’ll tell her you asked.”

“Great.”

He left before he said something he might regret, like “piss off,” which was ridiculous because what did he care if Saedra dated one of his guests? It was none of his business.

Refusing to think about it anymore, Cabe busied himself in ranch duties and then, later, paperwork in his office. The number of calls they’d received in recent weeks was astounding, thanks, no doubt, to Trent Anderson. The media had picked up on the professional team roper’s miraculous recovery, and the role New Horizons Ranch had played in his health. It’d been nonstop ever since. At this rate Cabe could build ten more cabins and still be full-up, if he had the staff.

He was so deep in his thoughts of expansion that he turned and hung up his hat and his jacket on a coat rack by the front door of his house before noticing the transformation.

“Son of a—”

Poinsettias covered every surface, their red leaves splayed in every direction, their yellow centers difficult to discern among the rich foliage. Green garland that looked like pine needles wrapped around the staircase railing. The table by the front door where he usually tossed his car keys was covered in faux-snow fabric, a miniature Christmas village twinkling and moving and glowing as if inhabited by tiny people, music coming from somewhere. Hell, it even smelled like Christmas.

Then he spotted it. A snow globe with a carousel horse inside. It sat in the middle of the mantel to his right, in the same spot Kimberly used to put it.

Cabe stepped back.

“Do you like it?”

He whipped around to face Saedra. She stood in the kitchen doorway.

“How dare you.”


Chapter Six

She took a step back.




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