Книга - The Rancher’s Christmas Bride

The Rancher's Christmas Bride
Brenda Minton


A Cowboy for ChristmasJilted at the altar, all Marissa Walker wants for Christmas is to escape her life. Fleeing to Bluebonnet Springs and the ailing grandfather she’s never known seems like the perfect solution. But when her limo breaks down, neighboring rancher Alex Palermo comes to her rescue. With his ranch in jeopardy, Alex can’t afford any distractions right now—until he sees a bedraggled runaway bride on the side of the road. Alex can’t turn his back on the spunky city girl, and soon his priority becomes convincing her to stay. Because Christmas—and his future—would be much merrier with Marissa as his bride.Bluebonnet Springs: Finding true love in Texas







A Cowboy for Christmas

After being jilted at the altar, all Marissa Walker wants for Christmas is to escape her life. Fleeing to Bluebonnet Springs and the ailing grandfather she’s never known seems like the perfect solution. But when her limo breaks down, neighboring rancher Alex Palermo comes to her rescue. With his ranch in jeopardy, Alex can’t afford any distractions right now—until he sees a bedraggled runaway bride on the side of the road. Alex can’t turn his back on the spunky city girl, and soon his priority becomes convincing her to stay. Because Christmas—and his future—would be much merrier with Marissa as his bride.


“I would marry you.”

Marissa looked half afraid. “That isn’t funny.”

“No one said I was joking.”

“You don’t even know my name.”

No, Alex guessed he didn’t. Nor did she know his. He’d been known to be impulsive, but it took a certain kind of brashness to propose to a woman when you didn’t even know her name.

But he said it again. “I would marry you.”

She laughed and got out of his truck. Well, maybe he’d been wrong. He was, after all, Alex Palermo. In his experience, women wanted to date him but they didn’t want to marry him. To the people in Bluebonnet Springs, he was a Palermo. On the bull-riding circuit he was a little bit wild, and not the guy anyone wanted to settle down with.

Not only that, but most women didn’t accept proposals from strangers who picked them up on the side of the road.

Besides, she was out of his league. She knew it. He knew it. But he couldn’t help but admire her.


BRENDA MINTON lives in the Ozarks with her husband, children, cats, dogs and strays. She is a pastor’s wife, Sunday-school teacher, coffee addict and sleep deprived. Not in that order. Her dream to be an author for Harlequin started somewhere in the pages of a romance novel about a young American woman stranded in a Spanish castle. Her dreams came true, and twenty-plus books later, she is an author hoping to inspire young girls to dream.


The Rancher’s Christmas Bride

Brenda Minton






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


And we know that God causes everything

to work together for the good of those

who love God and are called according to

His purpose for them.

—Romans 8:28


To Josh and Brooke, for pitching in and making everything so much easier for me. I’m blessed to have such amazing kids. And to my editor, Melissa Endlich, because she’s awesome.


Contents

Cover (#u1af3f50e-f875-5aa5-8df4-5768279010bd)

Back Cover Text (#uaf58419e-a565-54de-a0b8-40ea042480d9)

Introduction (#u99dd9835-8c88-5416-8856-f21198bf913b)

About the Author (#uaa9335f2-3375-555c-a2db-9013a0f68c5d)

Title Page (#uf43cf4dc-9793-5afa-a548-bc510d8c7495)

Bible Verse (#u79123dad-3f26-5799-a392-c31555358df4)

Dedication (#ub562a1f1-fea9-5380-9324-515951d06022)

Chapter One (#u48ed62d3-bbac-560c-8784-22de43304a6e)

Chapter Two (#ubf5d768b-bde2-5a91-a7aa-39e3e70c7399)

Chapter Three (#uf61f9631-d506-5796-a00d-c6b08d65fbc2)

Chapter Four (#uf66dd509-8ec7-5891-80a6-99b8f3dda3d9)

Chapter Five (#u22b7a728-bf09-50be-bcc1-f8217273ec45)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

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)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#u7e6e5980-e6bd-5dd8-bbb6-39b39348538c)

When memories crashed in on Alex Palermo, he drove. He never thought about a destination. He only knew that if he rolled down his truck windows, played some cowboy country on the radio and prayed, the memories would fade and so would the guilt. The praying part happened to be a new addition to the process. Pastor Matthews of the Bluebonnet Community Church had insisted he try it.

They’d joked that real men can eat quiche. Real men can pray. They can even cry every once in a while. As long as it didn’t become habit. They’d fist-bumped and joked over that.

On a cool day in December, Texas Hill Country wasn’t at its warmest. But the breeze coming through the open windows of his truck helped to clear his mind. He’d been doing really well, but tonight, maybe because it was almost ten years to the day since he’d killed his father, the memories had resurfaced with a vengeance.

No, he hadn’t really killed his father. Deep down he knew that he hadn’t. But for years he’d told himself he was responsible for the death of Jesse Palermo. In reality, alcohol and a mean bull had killed Alex’s father.

Earlier, standing in the arena where his father had drawn a bull rope—and his last breath—Alex had been hard put to remember that it hadn’t been his fault his dad had gotten on that bull.

The tires of his truck hummed on the pavement. He took a deep breath and turned up the radio. As if he could outrun the pain.

A few miles out of Bluebonnet Springs, he hit the brakes. Because either he’d gone crazy, or ahead of him, on the shoulder of the road, was a woman in a wedding dress. The last thing he wanted was a bride, even someone else’s bride. His common sense told him to keep on driving.

Common sense told him that he had enough problems of his own without getting tied up in someone else’s hard times. He’d taken off driving in the hopes of outrunning some of those problems.

Unfortunately he’d never been good at listening. His twin, Marcus, always accused him of being the good twin. He didn’t know if he’d agree with that, but he supposed he must have a chivalrous side. He pulled to the shoulder just ahead and got out of his truck. The woman was definitely real. And wearing a wedding dress. As if on cue, it started to rain. Steady, big drops. The kind of rain that danced across the pavement and soaked a person’s clothing.

“Need a lift?” he asked, hoping they could get back in the dry warmth of his truck soon.

Better yet, she could tell him she had a ride already on the way to pick her up. But a bride without a groom? That didn’t exactly spell wedding bells and happily-ever-after.

“I’m fine.” She said it with her chin raised a notch, even as the rain picked up pace. He was losing objectivity because that little lift of her chin showed some pride and big eyes that rivaled the stormy sky.

“Ri-i-i-ght.” He said it slowly. Did he point out to her that she was miles from anywhere, wearing a wedding dress and standing in the rain?

“You can go on. I know where I’m going.”

He looked around, at the open fields, pastures full of cattle and nothing else. He glanced back at her and grinned, because they both knew she was bluffing.

“I know we’re taught from the time we’re little not to get in the car with a stranger. But I think even your mama would want you to get in out of the rain.”

Hands up so she could see them, he took a step toward her.

She reached for the bag slung over her shoulder. “Don’t come any closer. I’m armed.”

He glanced at the bag and the object pointing through the thin cotton. “With a high-heeled shoe?”

“I’m warning you.” She issued the command with a startling amount of conviction as rain poured down from the steel-gray sky. She was a tiny thing with a pixie face and a massive amount of brown hair piled on top of her head.

Rain dripped down her face and she swiped it away with her shoulder. That chivalrous side of him kicked into gear. He jerked off his jean jacket and held it out to her. She eyed it the way a stray kitten eyed a bowl of milk, but didn’t take it.

“Well, I’m not really worried you’ll shoot me with a shoe.” He grinned as he said it, hoping to put her at ease. “But I do think we’re both in trouble if we don’t get out of this rain. I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to get you off the road.”

The rain picked up and he saw her shiver. Her feet were bare. So were her arms. She took another swipe at the water dripping down her face. She eyed the jacket and his truck.

“Listen, we could stand here all night or I can just literally pick you up and put you in my truck.” He did not want to do that. She looked like the kind of female that once a man had her in his arms, he’d want to hold her forever.

He didn’t do forever.

For a full minute she stood there facing him, then she nodded, giving in. He hurried ahead of her to open the passenger door of the truck. As she struggled to get her skirts under control, he took her hand and helped her in.

That hand was like a frail bird’s, cold and fine-boned. He held it gently, afraid he’d hurt her.

“Are we on the way to the church? Or do you have somewhere else you’d like me to take you?” he asked as he climbed behind the wheel of his truck.

Huddled in the seat, her teeth chattered. He turned up the heat.

“Do you know Dan Wilson?” she asked, hugging herself for warmth.

“Yeah, I know Dan.”

“Could you take me to his house?”

He tried again to give her his jacket. This time she took it, sniffing at the collar before settling it over her bare arms.

“It’s clean,” he said, a little defensively.

“I know, I just...” She shrugged a bit and looked sheepish. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. If you could take me to Dan’s...”

“I can, but do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

She gave him a puzzled look. “No, I guess not.”

“Dan isn’t the most pleasant guy in the world. He’s been sick and that’s made him extra cranky.”

“I’m his granddaughter.”

He had pulled onto the road so he shot her a quick look. “Seriously? I mean, not that you can’t be. But I didn’t know Dan even had a granddaughter.”

“He hasn’t seen my mom since she was a little girl. I tried to get him to come to the wedding...” She let the words trail off as her gaze slid to the window. A delicate finger brushed across her cheek.

Tears. He’d never been good with tears. He had two sisters and fortunately neither of them was the type to cry. The Palermo siblings had learned the hard way that tears didn’t help. In fact, sometimes tears made it worse.

His dad hadn’t invented the warning “Do you want me to give you something to cry about?” but he’d definitely put action to the words. He’d put the words into action the night he’d locked Lucy in the tack room of their barn. He had put the words into action the night he’d punched Marcus in the throat. They’d all learned not to cry and they’d learned not to tell.

But that had nothing to do with now and the lady sitting beside him wanting a ride to Dan’s.

“None of my business, but does Dan know you’re coming? I don’t think he’d take kindly to a surprise family reunion.”

From the look on her face, a grim mixture of worry and sadness, she wasn’t amused by his poor attempt at humor. Some things just weren’t that funny. And a bride that was walking down a back road, still in her wedding dress, pretending a shoe was a weapon? He guessed she’d had a pretty rough day.

The road was bumpy, but as they bounced along he managed to open the glove compartment and pull out a box of tissues.

“I’m not going to cry,” she insisted. But a few tears trickled down her cheeks.

“I guess I don’t have a right to ask what happened. But if you need to talk, I’m all ears.” He glanced in the mirror. “Seriously, have you ever seen ears this big?”

She glanced at him and burst into watery laughter, shaking her head as she surveyed his ears.

“They aren’t that big,” she countered. At least he’d made her laugh. He’d always been good for a laugh. And not much more.

“He picked the caterer,” she said quietly into the darkened interior of the truck. Her voice was soft, kind of sweet.

The windshield wipers clicked as they swept back and forth, and Chris LeDoux was singing “Cadillac Ranch.” Alex cleared his throat and shot her another quick look.

“Who picked the caterer? You mean you let him decide what to feed the guests and you’re upset about that? I think you’d need a bigger reason to walk out on a wedding.”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, he picked the caterer.”

He pulled to the side of the road because he couldn’t focus on the road and a conversation that seemed important. She fingered the sleeve of the jean jacket and her gaze slid to the window.

“He picked the caterer,” she said with meaning. “Not the chicken or the beef—the caterer. He picked her. Over me.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes and breathed. The tears disappeared but they’d left streaks down her cheeks. They’d left marks, the way this wedding would leave marks, he knew with certainty.

Another reason he was single and planned to stay that way. People had a tendency to hurt one another. His dad had hurt everyone in his path. His mom had walked out on her own children.

He shifted and pulled back onto the road, trying to find the right thing to say. A few minutes later he drove into Dan Wilson’s driveway.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, knowing his apology wasn’t the one that mattered. She’d been left at the altar by the man she had planned to spend her life with. He could tell her hard lessons about being let down by people who should have cared, but she didn’t need to hear it from him.

He’d let down people, too. He’d let down his siblings. He’d let down his best friend. He guessed he’d let down himself a few times, too. That made him the last person who could really help the woman sitting next to him in the dim light of his truck. He reached to turn down the radio and told himself it didn’t mean a thing. This moment would pass, like so many moments in his life. For these few minutes, though, maybe he could be her hero, the person she could count on.

“He was a fool. If he picked the caterer, he didn’t deserve you.” He parked next to Dan’s old farm truck.

She leaned across the truck in a rustle of white satin and lace and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I don’t even know your name, but thank you.”

He held out his hand. “Alex Palermo, at your service.”

She took his hand and again he was surprised by the way it felt, as if he should cherish the moment a little longer. “Marissa Walker.”

The rain was steady now and the light of early evening had given way to darkness. She peered through the windshield and frowned. “Is that my grandfather’s home?”

Alex glanced away from the bride sitting next to him and nodded as he looked at the little camper, hay bales stacked underneath to keep out the winter wind. “That’s Dan’s place.”

“He lives in a camper?”

“For as long as I’ve known him. He’s always been ornery and he’s always lived in this camper. Don’t let it fool you. He’s one of the best horse trainers in the country and he raises some mighty fine Angus cattle.”

A gunshot split the night, ending the conversation. The woman sitting next to him screamed. “He’s shooting at us!”

“Nah,” he said with a grin. “He’s just warning us to get off his land.”

* * *

Marissa couldn’t help it; she cowered in the seat, close to the cowboy. He was a stranger, but at the moment he was the only thing she had to hold on to. The day was catching up with her. She’d been awake since sunrise, because it was her wedding day and there’d been so much to get done. And then she’d stood in the dressing room of the wedding venue waiting for Aidan. And waiting. Until he sent the text that he was on his way to Hawaii. With Linda, the caterer. Unable to face her family and friends, she’d taken off with the limousine, leaving her mom a note that she needed time.

The limousine had broken down and the driver had told her he was done. The tow truck would take him back to the city and she was on her own unless she wanted to go to Austin.

And now this. Her grandfather was a madman with a gun.

The cowboy sitting next to her rolled down his window and leaned out. “Dan, stop shooting. You’re a little shaky these days and you might accidentally shoot someone.”

“Is that you, Alex?”

“Yeah, it’s me. And you don’t usually shoot at me when I pull up.”

“Cattle thieves have hauled off three of my best heifers, Alex. I ain’t taking no chances.”

“Yeah, but I’m your neighbor, not a cattle thief. And I’ve got your granddaughter in the truck with me. This isn’t the best way to introduce yourself.”

That was her cue. Marissa got out and walked tentatively through the dark and the mud to the front of the truck, where headlights illuminated the trailer and the man standing on the rickety porch. She glanced around, looking for the cowboy, and he was there, joining her. He grinned and winked and she felt as if he was her lifeline for the time being. A stranger with dark flashing eyes, dimpled cheeks and a flirty smile. A black cowboy hat covered his head but she thought she saw dark curls peek out from beneath.

His hand touched her back, between her shoulder blades, giving her strength to move forward.

“I’m Marissa. I’m your granddaughter.”

Her grandfather leaned against the porch as a fit of coughing hit. She wanted to tell him they’d be better off inside, but she wasn’t sure yet that it was true. Or even that he’d let her inside. Her grandmother had walked out on him, taking his only child, Marissa’s mom. He probably wasn’t going to feel too charitable to his only grandchild.

“I thought you were getting married today,” he said, surprising her. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to meet you.” She couldn’t very well tell him that she was twenty-six and she’d basically run away from home. That she’d run from a wedding that would have been the social embarrassment of the decade.

“You wanted to meet me?” He barked out a harsh laugh. “On your wedding day? Where’s your groom?”

“Hawaii.”

“Shouldn’t you be with him?” he asked, his voice softening a bit.

“I would have been if he hadn’t left with the caterer.”

He sighed. “That’s too bad. But that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

She bit down on her lip, unsure of what she should say. “I need a place to stay.”

“I’m sure you have a home and parents to go to.”

“Dan, it’s just for a night,” Alex Palermo said with a confident tone as he winked at Marissa.

She hadn’t said a thing about it being for just one night.

Dan’s hand was on the doorknob of the camper. “I don’t have an extra bed. And I don’t think a princess like her, in a dress that cost more than this camper, is going to want to stay here.”

“I do want to stay.” She took a few cautious steps forward.

“You don’t have to,” Alex said out of the corner of his mouth. “We can find somewhere else for you to stay.”

“Didn’t you hear the girl, Alex? She’s my granddaughter. She’s welcome to sleep on the couch. Tonight.” Her grandfather started to take a step inside but he wobbled a bit.

Alex hurried up the steps and steadied the older man. Marissa watched, unsure.

“Dan, are you okay?” Alex asked.

“I’m fine.” Marissa’s grandfather shook loose from the hand that steadied him. “A little light-headed from this cold. Get on in out of the rain, girl.”

“You’re sure about this?” Alex asked again.

“I’m sure,” she answered. Nervous or not, she was staying.

“Nobody’s asking if I’m sure,” her grandfather grumbled but he pushed the door open and motioned her inside. “Go on, Alex. We’re fine. You can come by tomorrow and check on her.”

Alex gave her one last look and left, walking down the rickety steps and across the muddy yard to his truck. She watched him go and then she stepped inside the camper and the door closed them in.

She heard the truck start, and her last chance to escape was driving off into the rain-soaked night, leaving her with a less-than-welcoming stranger. She peeked out the window, saw brake lights on the truck and smiled, because, unlike her groom, he wasn’t leaving without a second thought. And it felt good to know that a stranger, someone who didn’t have to care, did.


Chapter Two (#u7e6e5980-e6bd-5dd8-bbb6-39b39348538c)

Something heavy stretched out on Marissa’s legs. She tried to move and it growled long and low. She froze, peeking up at the bloodhound that stretched across her. The movement brought another soft noise from the animal—it wasn’t quite threatening, but was more of a warning growl. She looked up at the ceiling as another wave of something that felt like grief washed over her.

Today she should have woken up in Hawaii. She should be Mrs. Aidan Dean. Instead she was on her grandfather’s couch somewhere outside Bluebonnet Springs, Texas. Sometime in the night she’d decided she would never again play the fool. She would be stronger. More independent. She wouldn’t back down or give up. Aidan had hurt her badly. But he hadn’t broken her.

At least her grandfather had given her a place to stay the night. Last night, after Alex Palermo had left, they’d eaten bologna sandwiches in silence as he watched a game show. After the show ended he’d declared it bedtime. He’d tossed her a quilt and a pillow before he headed to his room. At the door he’d warned her about Bub, without telling her who Bub might be.

She guessed that Bub was the dog stretched out next to her.

“Get down,” she insisted. Bub just sprawled a little more and rested his head on her belly. “No, really, I don’t like dogs. Go,” she muttered, moving her legs. Bub growled again but nestled in closer.

She closed her eyes to regroup and must have dozed off again. A rooster crowed, something banged loudly against the roof and she jumped. Bub rolled off the sofa. He landed with a thud, shook his entire body and stared at her with meaningful contempt in his sad eyes. Marissa ignored him as she got to her feet and looked around.

In the light of day, the camper was small and cluttered. Magazines were stacked on tables. The kitchen was just a tiny corner with a minifridge and stove, a single sink and a few cabinets. A mirror hung on a closet door. She took a cautious peek at the woman in the reflection. The woman looking back at her had long hair that hung in a tangled knot. The wedding dress, a monstrous creation with too many sequins and ruffles, was wrinkled and stained. She didn’t know herself. Maybe once, a long time ago, she’d known what she wanted. She might have had her own dreams. But over the years she’d lost sight of the dreamer, the achiever, and she’d fought hard to become the person her parents wanted her to be. She’d lost herself.

When she left the wedding venue and headed for Bluebonnet Springs yesterday, that might have been an awakening. A rediscovery of the girl she’d left behind.

Looking back, she realized nothing about this wedding had been her choice, her style. The wedding venue, the dress, the flowers and the cake had all been picked by her mother. Guilt had robbed her of the ability to speak up for herself. She was her mother’s only child. This would have been her mom’s only wedding to plan. And on every last thing, Marissa had conceded to her mother’s desires.

Because of guilt.

Looking at her hair, she realized that she’d been giving up pieces of herself for a very long time. And now, because of Aidan, it was time to start taking back some of her independence.

She headed for the kitchen and rummaged through drawers until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out the clips and pins from her hair, then grabbed it up, leaned forward and cut it with scissors she’d found in a junk drawer.

The sound of scissors slicing through hair brought her back to reality. She looked at the long chunk of hair in her hand and straightened to look in the mirror at the ghastly sight.

“What have I done?”

Next to her the dog whined. She glanced down at the beast stretched out at her feet. He looked up at her with soulful eyes and six inches of drool hanging from his mouth.

“Did I really do that?” she asked him. In answer he put his head on his paws and closed his eyes. Of course he didn’t have an opinion. She returned her attention to the rather uneven layers of hair.

She snipped away the longer pieces, shortening her hair by another two inches. She looked in the mirror and winced. Her hair was now just above her shoulders. It wasn’t the best cut in the world but it felt good to be rid of the weight. She brushed it out with her fingers and then tossed the long locks she’d cut in the trash and dropped the scissors back in the drawer.

Now to find her grandfather. She opened the front door and was greeted by a sunny December day. There was a hint of chill in the air and the smell of wet earth. And no sign of Dan. She stepped back inside, leaving the door open a crack.

The camper wasn’t big, maybe thirty feet in length. She walked to the hallway and peered into the empty bathroom.

“Dan? Are you here?” She took another cautious step. “Dan?”

And then she heard the coughing, the same as the previous evening, almost as if he couldn’t catch his breath. She knocked on the closed bedroom door.

“Dan? Are you okay?”

The coughing fit lasted a few more seconds. “I’m fine. Can’t you leave a man in peace?”

“Not if he sounds like he might need help,” she said through the closed door. “Do you need help?”

“No, I don’t need help. Not unless you plan to feed livestock for me.” Through the thin door she heard a raspy chuckle.

“Okay. I think I can do that.”

“You don’t know a cow from a bull.” He began coughing again.

“Do you need a doctor?”

“Call your folks and tell them to come get you,” he said at the end of the spell, his breathing sounding off, even through the door.

“I texted them yesterday but my phone didn’t charge last night.”

“Deliver me from nosy relatives and do-gooders,” he grumbled. But she thought he sounded pleased. Or maybe she wanted him to be pleased.

“You rest. I’ll figure out the difference between a cow and a bull.”

“Don’t get too close to that bull or you’ll be on the business end of his horns. City gals. Land sakes, they drive a man nuts.”

“I’ll yell if I need help.” She looked down at the wedding dress. She guessed it wouldn’t do any good to ask for clothes.

As she headed out the front door and down the steps, careful to avoid loose boards, something red and winged came flying at her. She jumped off the porch and ran but it kept up the chase. The dog began barking and joined the fray. Chickens scattered, squawking in protest.

The crazy thing jumped at her, claws ripping at her dress, and a vicious beak tried to grab hold. She headed for the beat-up old truck parked to the side of the driveway, and when the doors wouldn’t open, she climbed in the back, the dress tangling around her legs. She fell in a heap of white, but then she scrambled to her feet, grabbing a rake that had been left in the bed of the truck.

A truck eased down the drive and stopped a dozen feet from where she stood. Through the window, even with the glare of early morning sun, she could see the cowboy from the previous evening. His wide grin was unmistakable.

The rooster must have known she’d been distracted. He flew at her again. She was ready this time and gave him a good smack with the rake. He made a stupid chicken noise as he fell to the ground, squawking and fluttering his wings.

Alex Palermo got out of his truck, shaking his head and smirking just a little. She probably looked a sight, standing there in the bed of a truck wearing her wedding dress. He didn’t look like he’d slept on a sofa. No, he looked rested. As he took off his cowboy hat, she saw his hair was dark and curly. His ears really were a little too big. It was good to know he wasn’t perfect. He was compact with broad shoulders, wore jeans that fit easy on his trim waist and had a grin that would melt a girl’s heart. Any girl but her.

Her heart was off-limits. Out of order. No longer available.

“It looks like you’ve killed Dan’s rooster,” Alex glanced at the rooster and then raised his gaze to hers. “Want down from there?”

She peeked over the side of the truck, where the rooster had regained his footing. “The rooster looks very much alive to me.”

He flashed a smile, revealing those dimples again. “Yeah, I was teasing. He’s a little stunned. I doubt he’s ever been knocked out with a rake.”

“Stop,” she warned. “That rooster had it coming. And the dog is going down next.”

“What did Bub ever do to you?” He held out a hand for her. “Come on down now, you’ll be fine. I’ll protect you.”

But who would protect her from all of that cowboy charm? He was cute and he knew how to make a girl feel rescued without making her feel weak. She took his hand and managed to climb over the tailgate of the truck without getting tangled up in the massive white skirts. If she’d had her choice she would have picked a slim-fitting dress that didn’t overwhelm her five-foot frame.

“My grandfather is sick,” she told him once she was on the ground.

“Dan has emphysema,” Alex explained and then he held out a bag. “I guess someone will be here to get you today, but I borrowed some clothes from my sister. They’ll be a little bit big on you but I’d imagine you’d like to get out of that dress.”

“Thank you.” She held the bag and looked back at the camper. “I told him I’d feed his livestock.”

His eyes twinkled. “Did you now? And do you know how to feed livestock?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t doubt that a bit. But I’ll help you. I usually try to check on Dan every few days, since he hasn’t had anyone else.”

Her grandfather didn’t have anyone. Of course he didn’t. She hadn’t even known about him until her grandmother passed away the previous summer. There were family secrets and hurt feelings. She got all of that. But Dan deserved family. He needed family.

“Oh, city girl, I wouldn’t get that look in my eyes if I were you.”

She glanced up at the man standing in front of her, watching her with his steady gaze. “What look?”

“The look that says you think Old Dan needs rescuing. He won’t take kindly to that.”

“But he...”

Alex held up a hand. “You just showed up and he has pride. He isn’t going to let you come in here and start prodding him into submission because you’re a granddaughter with a need to make up for lost time.”

“But he’s sick,” she sputtered. “And I am his granddaughter.”

“Right, I get that. I’ll give you some advice, before you ride in there on a white horse. Let Dan think he’s helping you.”

Her indignation died a quick death. “Oh.”

He pointed to the bag of clothes. “Go change and I’ll wait for you.”

For the first time she took a good look at the place her grandfather called home. The land was flat to a point and then it met rolling, tree-covered hills. The fences sagged and the barn looked as if it was at least a century old. The camper sat in the middle of it all, a relic from decades past. Behind that was a chicken pen, the door open and the rooster now inside getting himself a drink of water but still watching her with serious intent.

“Go on,” he said, and patted her shoulder. “I’ve learned that life has these little moments. I guess we learn from them when we can and we survive.”

She saw something in him she hadn’t noticed before. There was laughter on the surface, but in his dark eyes she saw pain. For a moment it was so intense, that flash of sadness, she wanted to comfort him. She shook free and stepped back. His easy smile was back in place and he winked, making her think she’d imagined it all.

* * *

Alex scrounged around in the shed, found the chicken feed and scooped out a can. As he exited the building, Marissa came out of the camper. She was dressed in his older sister’s—Lucy’s—jeans and a T-shirt she’d tied at the waist. Probably to keep it from hanging to her knees. The jeans were tucked into the boots he’d borrowed from his little sister, Maria.

He wondered if he should comment on her hair. Having been raised with two sisters, he kind of doubted it. Even though it was a little short and uneven, he liked it.

“So, you might not be a country girl, but dressed like that you could fool some people.”

“Because I put on jeans and boots?” She shook her head and kept walking.

If he had to guess, that fast walk of hers was intended to help her outrun an argument with her grandfather. He paused for a few seconds, and sure enough the door of the camper flew open and Dan, in overalls, muck boots and a straw hat, appeared. His gray hair stuck out from beneath the hat and his face was scruffy with a few days’ growth of gray whiskers.

“I don’t need no pity from long lost relatives,” Dan squawked, sounding a lot like that bad-tempered rooster of his. “Now call your folks and tell them to come get you. After all these years...”

He had a coughing fit and didn’t finish. And even with the tongue lashing, his granddaughter hightailed it back to his side and told him to take it easy. She might be a city girl but she had a determined side.

Alex didn’t want to like her too much. In his experience, women like her didn’t last in his world. And they were too expensive for his bank account. It didn’t matter what he told himself about her being a city girl, or his bank account or any of the other mental objections he might have; he liked her.

A woman like her, if she stayed around long enough, could make a guy start thinking about forever. Even if he hadn’t planned on having those thoughts. Ever. “I’m asking you to let me stay because I need a little time before I go back and face the embarrassment.” She looked at her grandfather as determined as that old rooster had been. “Just a week or two. Please.”

Dan reached into his pocket for an inhaler. After a few puffs, he shoved it in the front pocket of his bibs and gave his granddaughter a once-over.

“Nope.” He went on down the steps, holding tight to the rail. “You call your folks and you go on back to Dallas. I don’t need a keeper. And you don’t need to hide from what happened.”

“But...” She followed him. “I could help you out around here.”

Dan shook his head as he took the can of chicken feed from Alex. “I don’t need help. I’m just fine.”

“Dan, just let 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. I knew when she knocked on my door that she’d be trouble.”

Dan’s granddaughter bristled at that. “Listen to me—”

“You old coot,” Dan said, finishing her sentence, in a somewhat mocking tone.

“I wouldn’t call you that.” She opened the truck door. “We’re taking you to the doctor, and like it or not, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Dad-burn-it.” Dan collapsed as they managed to maneuver him into the truck.

Alex gave her points for courage. She’d shown up on Dan’s doorstep like a rain-soaked kitten tossed to the curb. Today the kitten had claws and she wasn’t walking out on a grandfather who wasn’t going to make her visit easy.

Alex had to admit, if he wasn’t so tangled up in his bucking-bulls business, and in his past, a woman with her kind of spunk would be the woman to have in his life.

But he wasn’t anything close to solvent and she wasn’t the kind of woman who looked twice at a cowboy like him.


Chapter Three (#u7e6e5980-e6bd-5dd8-bbb6-39b39348538c)

The doctor’s office was in an old convenience-store building on the south edge of Bluebonnet Springs. Alex drove them there in less than five minutes, with Marissa’s grandfather arguing the entire time that he was fine and didn’t need that “quack doctor.” Alex had merely grinned during the rant. Marissa had tried to get Dan to calm down because his lips were turning blue from lack of oxygen.

They pulled up to the clinic, and Alex parked next to the front door. Thanks to a brief phone call, the physician waited outside for them. He had an oxygen tank on wheels, and as Dan argued, the doctor placed the tubing in his nose.

“Don’t fight me, Dan Wilson,” Doc Parker said, as they helped Marissa’s grandfather out of the truck. “I told you to keep oxygen at your house. Now you’re going to have to do what I say and maybe you’ll live a few more years.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Dan said, inhaling deeply. “You’ll scare the kids.”

Doc shot them a look, his eyes narrowed. “They’re young but they can handle reality. Where did you get this pretty young lady?”

“I reckon that’s my granddaughter. She showed up on my doorstep like a stray puppy and now I can’t get rid of her.”

Once they were inside, Doc got Dan to sit down.

“Did you feed her?” Doc asked, giving her a swift smile as he examined her grandfather. “If you feed them, they won’t go back where they came from.”

“I reckon I fed her a sandwich last night and she had a cup of coffee this morning. To repay me, she nearly killed my best rooster.”

Doc laughed. “That rooster had it coming, Dan. He tried to flog me when I was out there checking on you last week.”

The physician put a stethoscope to her grandfather’s chest, telling him to breathe, then moved it to the next spot. Dan obeyed, but he shivered from time to time, and Marissa could hear the wheezing even without the stethoscope. A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Alex moved to stand behind her. Briefly his hand touched her shoulder.

The comfort took her by surprise. Brief as it was, it untangled the emotions of the past twenty-four hours and brought an unexpected tightness to her throat.

Doc sat back and gave her grandfather a long look. “Now listen to me, you old coot, I’m sending you to the hospital. I called the ambulance before you got here because I figured that cold you’ve had finally knocked you down.”

“I don’t need the hospital.” Dan paused to take a breath. “And I’ve got animals to take care of.”

“You’ve got neighbors who will help.” Doc Parker looked at Marissa, his gray eyes kind. “Can you talk some sense into him?”

How did she talk sense into someone she’d just met? She looked at the gruff man who was her grandfather and she wished she’d had twenty-six years of knowing him. He was salty and rough but already she loved him.

“Granddad...” she began. He looked up, his eyes narrowing. She couldn’t back down. Not when it was something this serious. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay and take care of the animals. You go to the hospital and get better.”

“He’s trying to send me off to a nursing home,” her grandfather said quietly. “I’m not doing that.”

“No, he’s sending you to the hospital. And then you’re going back to your own place to tend to that worthless rooster.” Marissa put a hand on his arm. It seemed a natural gesture, but she was surprised by how easy it was to reach out to him.

“I’ll help her keep an eye on things.” Alex inserted himself into the conversation.

“Keep an eye on her, too. She doesn’t know a thing about cows.” Her grandfather paused again to breathe. The color was slowly seeping back into his cheeks. “Don’t you kill that rooster while I’m in the hospital.” And then he raised his gaze to Alex. “And no fox better get in the henhouse, either.” He took another long breath of the oxygen.

Doc rolled his eyes. “Dan, I’m sending you in for some IV antibiotics and a few tests. That’s all. You’ll be home in a few days at the latest.”

“You’re sure?” Dan asked.

“Pretty close to sure. And the ambulance is pulling in. Alex and your granddaughter can follow unless they want to ride with me.” Doc Parker helped her grandfather to his feet, then he gave Marissa his attention. “Do you need to call your family?”

It was a normal question, but this wasn’t a normal situation. Before she could answer, her grandfather waved his hand and stopped her.

“No, she won’t be calling family. She’s my family. My only family.”

Doc raised a questioning brow. “Is that so?”

Again, Dan answered. “It is if I say so.”

“Dan, you have to let her answer.” Doc glanced at her as he continued to examine his patient.

“Yes, I’m his family. But Granddad, I will tell my mother what is going on.”

“Bah,” he said, waving her away. As if she would go.

Suddenly, the paramedics entered. Alex stood with her as they readied her grandfather. Memories crashed in, and she closed her eyes against the pain that the images brought. It had been so long, but seeing her grandfather on that gurney, it seemed more like yesterday.

In an instant she was ten again. Her mom was screaming. There were police cars. And she was alone, standing on the sidewalk, unable to scream, unable to cry. That day had changed her life. Since then, she had felt alone.

The paramedics were moving. Her grandfather was cursing them. She tried to shake off the pain of the past. A hand briefly touched hers, giving a slight squeeze.

She wasn’t alone.

“Are you all right?” Alex asked in a husky whisper.

She nodded, her attention glued to the scene taking place in front of her. She was okay. But she wasn’t. She was about to fall apart.

“Sit down,” he ordered. He led her to a chair.

She sat, then lifted her gaze to meet his. He squatted in front of her, putting him at eye level.

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“I don’t believe you. I know what it looks like when a woman is about to come unglued. But trust me, he’s going to be okay. He’s too ornery for anything else.”

“I know. It isn’t...” She swallowed and met his gaze again. “I’m fine. It was just a memory. But I’m okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She managed a shaky laugh because he didn’t look like a man who really wanted to talk. “No, not really. I should go. Maybe I can ride with the doctor.”

He put a hand out and helped her to her feet. “I’m driving you.”

“I’m sure you have other things to do. You aren’t responsible for me.”

“I know I’m not, but I found you. Finders keepers and all of that childish stuff. And besides, you don’t want to ride with Doc Parker.” He leaned close as he said it. “He’s had so many speeding tickets, they’re about to take his license.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at his warning. No matter how she felt at this moment, she wasn’t alone.

* * *

Alex walked with Marissa to his truck. A breeze kicked up, blowing dust across the parking lot. In the distance the ambulance turned on its siren, and he could see the flash of blue lights on the horizon. The woman standing next to him shivered violently as if a cold arctic wind had just blown through her. He reached into his truck, grabbed his jacket off the seat and placed it around her shoulders.

He didn’t think it was the breeze that had chilled her. He’d watched her in Doc’s office. He’d seen the moment that past met present—her eyes had darkened and the color had drained from her cheeks. He recognized a person getting hit head-on by a painful memory. It had happened to him more than once.

There were days he could still hear his teenage self tell his father he wouldn’t last five seconds on the bull he was straddling. His father had laughed and said, From your lips to God’s ears.

Thirty seconds later his father was gone. His last words, a whispered, You were right.

He had his past. It appeared Marissa might have her own.

He wouldn’t pry because he didn’t let anyone pry into his memories. He helped her in the truck and then he got in and started it up. She was still stoic, still dry-eyed.

“Did you charge your phone?” he asked as they pulled onto the road.

“I’ll have to buy a charger.” She averted her gaze and concentrated on the passing scenery.

There wasn’t much to Bluebonnet Springs. Main Street with its few business, the feed store and his aunt Essie’s café. On the edge of town there was a convenience store and a strip mall with a couple of businesses. The rest of the town was made up of a few churches and a couple of streets lined with houses that had been built a few decades ago. There was a new subdivision being built in the east end of town. That had caused quite a stir and given the lunch crowd at Essie’s something to talk about for a good month.

A city utilities truck was parked on the side of the road.

“They’re putting up the Christmas lights,” he told her, because the silence was deafening and he didn’t know what else to say.

“Christmas isn’t my favorite holiday.” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean it like that. Christmas is difficult for my family.”

“I’m sorry.” He sped up as they left town. “It’s a big deal here in Bluebonnet.”

She gave him a questioning look.

“Christmas,” he responded. “They love Christmas in this town. They have a big community service. There are four churches in the area and they all come together and each one has a play or music. The whole month of December the shops are open late each Friday. They serve cookies and hot cocoa.”

“That does sound nice,” she answered. “Maybe I’ll be around for that. If not, I might come back. We typically don’t do a lot at Christmastime.”

He wanted to ask her about her family, maybe even wanted to know why her blue eyes clouded with emotion as she told him that bit of insight into her life. But he knew better than to dig into someone else’s life. He knew from his own past that families all had their private stories. After his dad died, his entire family had avoided attending church. Specifically, they’d avoided the Church of the Redeemed, the church their father had pastored with an abusive hand.

Maria, the youngest Palermo, hadn’t lived through much of Jesse Palermo’s craziness, so she hadn’t struggled with her faith. The oldest, Lucy, had found it a little more difficult. Alex had found his way to a church service after a bull-riding event. He believed that service probably changed his life and set him on a new course. His twin brother, Marcus... That was a whole other set of problems.

The woman sitting next to him had shut down a little after the topic of Christmas so he wasn’t going to push.

He usually had something to say, a joke to crack, anything to ease the tension. But he couldn’t find that old ease, not with her. What could he say to a woman he didn’t really know? All he knew was that she’d been jilted on her wedding day. She was Dan’s granddaughter. And she didn’t really care for Christmas and he didn’t know why.

Somewhere out there she had people who did know her. She had people who would have the right words. And they had the right to say the words she needed to hear.

“Do you want to use my phone?” he offered in the silence of the truck. “To call family?”

“That would be good. Thank you.”

He handed her his cell phone. And then he listened as she spoke to her mother, explaining where she was and how she’d come to be there. At the end of the conversation she told her mom she would keep her posted on her grandfather’s condition.

She ended the call, then ran a shaky hand through her now short hair. The brown layers were chunky and framed her face, making her eyes large and luminous. He took the phone from her, their fingers touching in the process. Blue eyes met his and she smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

He reached to turn up the radio. The classic country station was playing George Jones. A typical song about heartache.

“So, you’re a teacher?” Suddenly he felt the need to fill the silence. He shot her a quick look. “Good thing you aren’t a beautician.”

Her laughter was soft but genuine. She glanced in the mirror on the visor. “Not my best work. After this, I’ll stick to teaching the alphabet.”

He gave her another a quick look. Yeah, she looked like a teacher. The kind that wiped faces, hugged kids when they fell and made math seem fun. He’d had one or two teachers like her. The teachers who looked past the rough-and-tumble little boy and told him they thought he mattered.

Those teachers had inspired him. He’d managed to achieve a few goals thanks to their tutoring and encouragement.

Soon they were nearing Killeen and the hospital. Marissa appeared lost in her own thoughts and he doubted he wanted to go where she’d gone.

It didn’t take a genius to realize he was knee-deep in this woman’s life. For some reason he kept wading in deeper. For a guy who prided himself on keeping to his goals and priorities, that came as a surprise.

The last thing he wanted was the worry that he wouldn’t be able to help her. He didn’t like the feeling of letting someone down. Or, worse, the moment when someone looked him in the eyes and told him not to worry about it, he couldn’t have done anything to help.


Chapter Four (#u7e6e5980-e6bd-5dd8-bbb6-39b39348538c)

“You don’t need to sit at my bedside,” her grandfather mumbled. Something about the growling words seemed half-hearted to Marissa. Or maybe it was wishful thinking on her part. Maybe she wanted him to need her. Or she wanted to try to make up to him whatever it was he’d lost when her grandmother left.

“I know I don’t need to be here.” She moved the chair closer to his bed. “I want to be here.”

He shook his head. “Do-gooders, always trying to make up for what other people did wrong. Like Alex over there. He’s trying to make up for that crook of a father he had. You’re trying to make up for your grandmother walking out on me. What the two of you need to do is take yourselves off and live your own lives. Not together, mind you. That would be another mistake.”

Heat climbed into Marissa’s cheeks and she avoided looking at the man standing near the wall. But he moved, forcing her gaze to shift toward him. He pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against and approached her grandfather’s bed.

“Dan, you’re just being grouchy. And your granddaughter is the wrong person to take it out on,” he said.

The last thing she needed was for him to defend her. She shot him a warning look that he disregarded with that cool, cowboy way he had. As if nothing ever got under this skin.

“I’m not taking it out on her.” Her grandfather patted the hand she’d rested on the rail of the bed. “I’m giving some advice. Go on about your life. I don’t know why any man would dump you. Maybe it’s the grandfather in me talking, but I think any man in his right mind would want you. And don’t be looking at her like that, Alex Palermo. We all know you’re not in your right mind. Marissa, you need to go back home to your folks and to your life. I imagine there’s some pieces you need to pick up. Things you need to deal with.”

“I already told you I’m staying,” she said softly, hoping he wouldn’t disagree.

He opened his mouth to say something and coughed instead. The cough lingered, turning his face dark red as he fought to catch his breath. When she offered a glass of water, he raised his hand and shook his head.

“I’m fine. Water’s good for nothing but washing dishes. And making coffee. Get me some coffee and you’ll be my favorite granddaughter.”

“As far as I know, I’m your only granddaughter.”

His hand over hers tightened and his gaze caught and held hers. “I know.”

Those two words shook her. She saw in his eyes that he did know. She saw sympathy and sadness. She saw understanding. How did he know? But she couldn’t ask. Not yet.

“What if that fiancé of yours comes to his senses?” her grandfather asked.

“I don’t think I’d be willing to revisit that relationship.”

“I’ll get you a cup of coffee, Dan,” Alex offered, and quietly slipped from the room.

Silence hung between them. Marissa tried to turn away but her grandfather kept his hand on hers.

“I know about your sister.” He patted her hand. “I can’t imagine how that hurt you. It hurt me and I didn’t know her. But you were young. How old?”

“Ten.”

“Yes, ten. Your grandmother sent me the newspaper clipping. She was heartbroken.”

The information unsettled Marissa. “You talked to my grandmother?”

“Yes, we talked. No, it was more like yipping. We yipped at each other. Like the coyotes you hear at sunset. We never did get along. She was city and I was country. We were oil and water. The two don’t mix. She wanted shopping malls. I wanted cattle. We bought the camper and planned to build a house later. At first she loved the idea. It was romantic, the two of us making our own way. And then along came your mom and it was crowded. To make matters worse, it upset her wealthy daddy that we were living like that.”

“So she left you.”

“Yes, she left. For good reasons, mind you. But after a while she called and apologized. She sent me letters. I mailed her checks. She decided I wasn’t fit to be a father and I agreed. I understood horses and cattle but not little girls. I guess from the mess I made of my marriage, I didn’t understand women any better. And that’s why you should go on home. It was nice meeting you and I hope you’ll stay in touch, but you belong in Dallas, not Bluebonnet.”

“How do you know where I belong?” Even she didn’t know where she belonged.

“That’s what your grandmother said when I told her she shouldn’t marry a cowboy from Bluebonnet Springs. And I was right.”

“You’re not right about me.”

Footsteps announced Alex’s return. She stepped away from the bed, moving to the window to look out at the city landscape.

“Did I need to give you more time?” Alex asked as he handed the coffee to her grandfather. He pushed the button to raise the back of the bed so that Dan could sit up a little higher.

“You can take my granddaughter on back to my place. I think her folks should be able to find their way down here to pick her up.”

Marissa picked up her purse. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m not that easy to get rid of. I’m going back to your place because someone has to feed the dog. And that stupid rooster.”

“Don’t be picking on my rooster,” Dan grumbled.

“I won’t. And I’m also not going anywhere.”

Alex chuckled. “Dan, I wasn’t sure if she was really your granddaughter until just now. She’s definitely stubborn enough to be a Wilson. You may have met your match.”

“Go away. I need my rest. Didn’t you hear the doctor?”

“I heard him.” Marissa leaned in to kiss her grandfather’s scruffy cheek. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of your animals.”

He patted her shoulder. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

He smiled, a twinkle in his faded blue eyes. Eyes she realized were the same as hers. She’d always wondered where she got her blue eyes. And her stubborn streak. Now she knew. For the first time in a very long time she felt connected. He might not want her, but in her grandfather she’d found someone who might understand who she was and how she felt.

* * *

It was late afternoon when they pulled up to Dan’s camper. Marissa felt a strange sense of coming home. It was a world away from her home. It was completely out of her comfort zone. And yet there was something about this place...the fields, the cattle, even the rooster.

It was change. Maybe that’s what she’d needed.

“You’re actually going to stay here alone?” Alex asked as he moved to get out of the truck.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?”

Alex shrugged as he headed for the barn. She hurried to keep up.

“Maybe you didn’t hear Dan, but I did. Your grandmother was a city girl who broke his heart.” He shot her a look. “She told him she wanted this life with him but when it came down to it, she couldn’t hack it.”

“I’m his granddaughter, not his wife. And I want to be here to help him.”

“Suit yourself.”

“So you don’t think I can do this, either, do you?”

He headed through the barn, stopping to give her a look before scooping grain into a bucket. “I make it a habit not to get involved.”

“Then you should go. I’ll feed and do whatever needs to be done here.”

He headed out a side door, whistling shrilly. She heard an answering whinny and then hooves beating across the hard-packed earth.

“You’ll do whatever needs to be done?” He grinned as he poured feed in a trough. “There’s a couple of cows about to calve. Do you know what to do with a downed cow that’s been laboring too long?”

“I can look it up on the internet.”

He grabbed her by the wrist, his hand strong and warm, and they moved back a few steps as a couple of horses headed for the trough. The animals didn’t seem to want to share. Ears were pinned back and one turned to kick at the other. Marissa didn’t need to be told twice to get out of the way of those flying hooves.

“Should you feed them separately?” she asked.

“Nah, they’ll get over it once they get to the business of eating. They’ve been fighting that way for years. That’s what Dan gets for buying mules.”

“They’re horses, aren’t they?”

He pointed to the heads of the big, golden red animals.

“Those are not the ears of a horse. Dan sold his horses when he stopped training and he bought mules. They’re sure-footed and he uses them for trail rides and hunting. But I’m sure you can look that up on the internet,” he teased, punctuating his words with a wink.

“Stop making fun of me. When I decide to do something, I do it. I’m staying and I’m going to help my grandfather.”

“Calm down, I’m not making fun of you.”

Of course he wasn’t. But she’d gotten used to Aidan and his brand of teasing, which she now realized had been more. He’d smiled as he pointed out her shortcomings, then he’d told her he was teasing. Now she could look back on the last two years and a relationship that had been chipping away at her hard-earned self-confidence.

She briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them he had stepped a little closer. His expression, soft and concerned, eased the tension building inside her.

“I’m calm,” she said.

“I admire that you want to help Dan, even if you don’t know a thing about ranching. But don’t you have a job you need to get back to?”

A few days ago she would have said that she did have a job. She had an apartment, a job and even a fiancé, who would now have been her husband.

“I have a new job but I don’t start until mid-January. I have plenty of time to stay and help my grandfather.”

The job now seemed like another area of her life she’d given over to her parents. It was a job they’d wanted for her and approved of. And she’d agreed to the private school even though she’d wanted something else. She’d been looking at a small rural school when her father told her he’d gotten her an interview with a friend.

“Suit yourself.” He headed for the barn with the empty bucket. “I have to get home and get my own chores taken care of. Tomorrow morning you’ll need to move a round bale to the cattle. They’ll eat about two of those fifty-pound bags of grain. And then you’ll need to feed the chickens and gather eggs. Don’t forget Bub.”

The list of chores made her take a step back and reevaluate the plan. She quickly swallowed past the lump that lodged in her throat. She could do this. The other thing she could do was ignore the humorous glint in his dark eyes and the dimple in his left cheek.

He was the complete opposite of Aidan. He was the opposite of what she knew about life and men. He laughed too easily and smiled too much. He was too carefree.

But her grandfather had commented on his life, making her think everything hadn’t been so easy for Alex Palermo.

“I can do all of that,” she informed him because he seemed to be waiting for confirmation.

“I think you probably can,” he said, suddenly serious. “Don’t forget to lock the doors tonight.”

“Lock the doors. Of course.”

The humor evaporated. “I’m serious. I know you want to stay here. And I know you can handle things, but these cattle rustlers are real and I don’t want you to think you have to go out and tangle with them.”

Her earlier ease with the situation dissolved with that warning. “What should I do if I see or hear something?”

“Call 911 and then call me. I’ll write my number down for you. And let Bub sleep in the house with you. He looks like a drooling mess, but he’s got a pretty vicious bark.”

“Okay, I’ve got this.”

He winked, then he kissed her cheek, taking her completely by surprise. “Of course you do. I believe you can do this.”

* * *

Alex heard a truck door slam. He walked out of the stall he’d been cleaning and spotted his sister Lucy getting out of her truck. She waved and headed his way. Lucy was proof that the Palermo family could overcome the past.

An abusive cult leader for a father. A mother who’d abandoned them. Some folks around town still gave them the stink eye, as if they were waiting for one of the Palermo kids to turn out like their father.

Years ago, Lucy had escaped, joining the army and then returning to start a protection business with her former army buddies. Last spring she’d finally come home to Bluebonnet and ended up marrying their neighbor, Dane Scott. And Lucy had adopted Maria’s baby girl, Jewel.

The only problem with all of this was that Lucy suddenly was into everyone’s business and thought all her siblings needed to be fixed. She’d turned into a mother.

“How’s Dan doing?” she asked as she entered the barn.

Alex put the pitchfork back in the storage room. He closed the door of that room. Long ago it was the room their father had locked Lucy in when he’d learned of her teen relationship with Dane.

“He’s good. Word travels fast in a small town.”

“Yeah, it does. I was at Essie’s.” The café their aunt owned. “She said Doc came in after he’d gotten back from Killeen.”

He knew that hopeful look in Lucy’s eyes, she was thinking maybe there was something between him and Dan’s granddaughter. He headed out the front door of the stable. The sun was setting and the air had cooled ten degrees with a wind coming out of the north. He figured there’d be frost on the ground when he woke up in the morning.

“I guess Dan’s granddaughter is sticking around?” Lucy asked as she walked next to him.

“Is there a point to this visit?” He opened the door to the garage he’d had built since he returned home last spring. Inside were a couple of tractors and a farm truck. The equipment belonged to neighbors. The tools belonged to him.

“How’s business?”

He pushed a rolling toolbox in the direction of the John Deere tractor. “Business is good. And I’m not interested in Dan’s granddaughter, not as anything more than a neighbor in need. I’ll remind you that it wasn’t too long ago that you weren’t interested in dating. Just because you’ve gone to the other side doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

Lucy sat on a rolling stool and watched him. Studied him, more like. The way a scientist studied an insect. “One of these days there will be a woman who makes you forget. Or at least helps you let go of the past.”

“It isn’t going to be this woman.” By the past Lucy meant the women who couldn’t be seen with him because their daddies didn’t want them dating a Palermo. As a teenager it had hurt. As an adult, he guessed he didn’t blame them.

His dad had been a cult leader who abused his family. And most people would have said the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. For a long time he’d almost believed it, thinking that he had no choice but to grow up in the shadow of Jesse Palermo.

He slid under the tractor and ignored his sister. Time was limited and Jerry Masters expected his tractor fixed in the next week. “I’m looking at buying some used equipment to sell.”

“Can you do that and get those bulls ready to buck?”

“I can. Marcus is going to come home and help with the bulls. It works for us both. I invested my earnings. He blew through his like water.” He scooted out and picked a different tool. Lucy was watching him, her dark eyes serious. “Stop worrying, Luce. I’ve got this.”

“I always worry. It’s my job.”

“You don’t have to worry.”

“Yes, I do. I worry that Marcus is going to hurt himself or someone else. I worry that Maria has been talking to Jaxson Williams. And I worry that you still think it was all your fault. Everything.”

“It was.” He scooted back under the tractor, hoping she’d take the hint and leave. He knew better, but it was worth a try.

“You were a teenager and not responsible for our father’s actions. Ever.”

He gave up on the tractor, slid out and sat up, knees bent and arms resting on them. He gave his sister a long look. “Are you finished?”

The look in her eyes told him she wasn’t. “No. I have a lot to say. You didn’t lock me in that room. Our father did. You couldn’t have busted me out. He wouldn’t have allowed it. You didn’t kill him. He made a choice to get on a bull that was rank and couldn’t be ridden.”

“I’m pretty sure I wished him a less-than-heavenly reward.”

“You’ve regretted those words a thousand times.”

“Are we done?” Because she hadn’t yet brought up his best friend, Daniel, who had died under a bull. It had been Alex’s job as a bullfighter to protect him but he hadn’t. He had a long history of not being able to protect the people he cared about.

Lucy shook her head and he knew the worst was yet to come.

“What is it?” he asked when she didn’t spit it out.

“Mom.”

Great. This was going downhill fast. Deloris Palermo had a habit of putting her kids last. She’d skated in and out of their lives for the last dozen years.

Lucy sighed. “She took out a mortgage on the farm.”

It took him a minute to make sense of those words.

“And?”

“And she hasn’t been making the payments.”

He wanted to punch something. Instead he sat there with a wrench in his hand, waiting, hoping she’d tell him it was all good somehow.

“Please give me some good news.”

Lucy shook her head. “I’d love to but there isn’t any. She hasn’t made the payments in six months. I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t seen a man at the end of the drive taking pictures. The place is going to be auctioned off.”

“What do we do? I’ve invested most of my savings in this business and the bulls. I know Marcus doesn’t have two dimes to rub together.”

“I don’t know if you’re right about Marcus. He’s been winning lately. Mom said she’ll sell her half to us if we want. She’s being generous, she says. Because she won’t make us buy the whole ranch. She said Dad wanted her to have half and the rest split between his four kids. So in order to get her name off the land we have to pay her half the appraised value.”

“The appraised value of five hundred acres and a house.” He hung his head, wishing he could start this day over. “If we do that, she has to pay the second mortgage. That or we pay her, less the amount she owes. But do you really want to go in on this? Now that you’re married, it doesn’t seem like this should be your problem.”

“We stick together, Alex. All of our lives we’ve only had each other. That doesn’t change just because I’m married.”

He tossed the wrench to the ground and did something he rarely did: he gave his sister a quick hug. “Thanks.”

She hugged him back, the gesture awkward. “You’re welcome.”

He headed back to his tools. “So now I just have to figure out how to scrounge up a down payment. And face the reality that our own mother has put us in debt.”

“Yeah.”

“And you ask me why I’m not interested in a relationship. From what I can see, people who say they care tend to just rip each other to pieces.”

“There’s a difference between people who care and people who say they care. You’ve never let me down. I don’t know if I’ve ever said it, but I love you, Alex.”

He blinked to clear his blurry vision. Because he wouldn’t let her make him cry. “I have to get up early,” he said as he wiped his hands on a towel. “And you have kids to take care of and a husband probably wondering where you are.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this up.”

He managed a grin. “Remember when you used to stay out of our business and just let us all live our lives?”

“I seem to remember that person. I was a little bit broken, too.”

“I’m not broken. I’m not even fragile. I’m cautious.”

“And you’re not cautiously interested in Dan’s granddaughter?” she asked as she stood at the door, preparing to leave.

“No. I’m not interested. I found her on the side of the road in her wedding dress. If that doesn’t scream trouble, I don’t know what does.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “A wedding dress? That’s a part of the story no one is talking about. Including you.”

He was filled with some kind of strange loyalty and protectiveness. Hadn’t he just said he wasn’t getting tangled up in Marissa Walker’s life?

“It’s a part of the story that doesn’t need to be talked about. No one ought to be walking down a back road on their wedding day, in the dress and without the groom.”

Lucy gave him a long look. “You’re right. But when you said she needed extra clothes, you didn’t mention the dress.”

“I didn’t think it was anyone’s business but hers.”

“It’s a good thing you’re the one who found her.”

“I guess it is. I’ll see you later, sis.” He reached to open the door for her. With a quick hug, she left.

He watched her truck head down the drive and then he went back inside the garage. Focusing on the tractor helped him keep his mind busy and kept him from worrying too much about the mortgage and buying the ranch he’d always considered his home. Fixing that tractor also kept him from thinking about Marissa.

Kind of.

He didn’t want to think about blue eyes that rivaled the bluebonnets his hometown was named for. Or the blue of the sky on a clear winter day. He didn’t want to think about how she’d managed to pull herself together, even though she had to be pretty close to devastated.

He couldn’t help but think she needed family. Or a friend. Someone to help her through what had to be a pretty difficult time.

Someone who was not him.


Chapter Five (#u7e6e5980-e6bd-5dd8-bbb6-39b39348538c)

The gray light of early dawn peeked through a crack in the curtains. Marissa tried to roll over on the lumpy sofa but a bigger lump kept her from moving. She pushed at the drooling dog that had climbed up and was stretched out next to her.

“Down, Bub.”

The dog groaned, then made a noise that was followed by a foul smell. She pushed him off the sofa and sat up, holding a hand over her nose.

“You are the most disgusting animal.”

Bub just looked at her with his soulful eyes, his skin sagging downward, ears slightly perked. His tail thumped the faded carpet. Then he got up and lumbered to the door.

She followed, pushing the door open to the cool air. The rooster was sitting on the porch rail. As if on cue, he bristled his feathers and starting crowing.

“Good morning to you, too.” She closed the door, shutting out the rooster and the noxious dog.

Blurry-eyed from lack of sleep, she headed for the coffeepot. She found coffee in a canister and filters in the cabinet. The refrigerator, as she’d learned the previous evening, didn’t contain much in the way of food. Her grandfather seemed to live on eggs, skim milk and bologna.





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