A Rancher for Christmas

“Am I considered family now?”

“You’re family.” He hadn’t planned this, for her to be in their lives, a part of their family, but she was. Man, she complicated his life in so many ways.

On the other hand, the rules made him smile, because he’d never intended to list them. He hadn’t even thought of them as rules until she pointed it out.

“Okay, church and Sunday dinner. That’s nice. What if I bring the tofu pizza?”

“Rule Number Five...”

She laughed. “No tofu?”

“Never.” He pushed back from the table and she did the same. “I need to check on the cattle.”

“Is checking on cattle a rule?” She grinned at him.

“No, it isn’t a rule. It’s something that has to be done.”

“Can I help you do things here? I mean, I’m going to be around, I might as well earn my keep.”

He unbuckled Violet and lifted her from the high chair. He hadn’t expected Breezy to offer her help. What was he supposed to tell her, that he’d been looking for an excuse to get away from her for a few minutes? He hadn’t expected her to tease, and he definitely hadn’t expected to enjoy her company.

“You want to help out with the cattle?”

She looked a little unsure. “Well, maybe. I mean, is there a way I can help?”

“Have you ever lived on a ranch, Breezy?”

“My sister was raised on a ranch in Oklahoma.”

“But you, have you ever lived on a ranch?”

“I’ve seen cows.” She said it with a wink.

He held Violet close but he smiled at the woman opposite him. “You’ve seen cows but thought cheese came from a plant?”

“Okay, let’s not mention that anymore, and I promise to never buy nondairy again.”

“Thank you. I can’t even believe they had such a thing at the store in town. And we still have a few rules to cover.”

“Such as?” She had Rose in her arms and the little girl’s eyes were droopy. Breezy kissed her cheek and stroked her hair, causing those droopy eyes to close and her head to nod. She’d be asleep in a few minutes. So would Violet.

He headed for the living room and she followed. “If you are here long enough to date, we don’t bring dates home, or around the girls.”

“That’s absurd. Are you planning to stay single until they’re eighteen?”

He didn’t like the question, and as he settled into a rocking chair with Violet he tried to ignore it. Bottom line was he wouldn’t let a mother walk out on Violet and Rose. The twins had already lost enough.

Violet nodded off in his arms. Rose was already on the sofa, a blanket pulled up over her. He started to get out of the rocking chair with Violet but Breezy moved to take her from him, her blond hair falling forward. The silky strands brushed his arms as she lifted his niece. Their hands touched and he looked up to meet her gaze head-on.

The strangest feelings erupted as she moved away from him with Violet in her arms. It made him want to reach out to her, to know her better, to trust her.

He shook off those thoughts because they didn’t make sense.

He watched as she carried Violet away from him, cradling her gently and then settling her on the opposite end of the sofa from her sister. He remained in the rocking chair, as she covered the little girl with a pink afghan. She kissed Violet’s cheek and brushed her hair back from her face.

If she was going to leave, he hoped she left before the twins got used to her touch, to her softness.

“I’m going to the barn,” he said, heading for the front door. She didn’t have a chance to question him. He didn’t need more tangled-up emotions to deal with. He needed fresh air and a few minutes to clear his thoughts.

And a few rules for himself when it came to Breezy Hernandez.

Chapter Four (#ulink_4257a54f-3221-5e80-b620-c246be20790c)

Thursday morning, just a few days into this new life of hers, Breezy stepped outside with a cup of coffee. It was cool, crisp, but not cold. She breathed in the slightly frosty air as she settled in a rocking chair on the front porch. The land stretching forever in front of her was different than Oklahoma, yet similar. The terrain surrounding the house was flat with small trees; the leaves had turned and were falling. An old barn stood in the field, gray wood against a backdrop of a foggy morning. A short distance away the ground rose in rugged hills, also dotted with trees. She knew there was a lake not far from Martin’s Crossing, and the creek that ran through this property emptied into that lake.

The sun rose, turning the frosty air to morning fog and touching everything in pinkish-gold. It made her think of faith, of believing in something other than herself. She’d tried, since she was little, to capture that faith.

Not just the faith, but what came with it. The sense of having purpose, of belonging, of Sunday dinners and laughing families.

She wanted that life. She wanted a home that would always be hers, with belongings that were hers. Maybe she wouldn’t have to leave. Maybe she could fill this house with pictures and things she collected.

Her gaze drifted in the direction of the metal barn, a newer structure, part lean-to for cattle and part machine shed for farm equipment. Something was off. She tried to figure out what was different. And then she saw the cattle moving outside an open gate.

They definitely shouldn’t be out. She would have to do something about the problem.

She set her cup down and slipped her feet into her slippers As she ran across the yard and then down the dirt track to the barn, she was struck with the realization that she didn’t have a clue what she needed to do once she reached the cattle. Of course she knew she should put them back in the field. But exactly how did a person go about putting up a small herd of cattle?

As she ran she shouted and waved her arms. The cattle continued to drift, separating into several small groups. They were gigantic black beasts. One eyed her with a glare. She glared back.

“Back inside that gate, you wooly mammoths.” She waved her arms and ran at the animals.

For the most part they stood their ground. A few moved out of her way but definitely not toward the gate. Several dropped their heads to graze on winter-brown grass. One took several cautious steps in her direction.

She paused to watch, hopeful he wasn’t going to charge her but not really positive. Time for a new tactic.

“Back in the field. If you please, Sir Loin.”

She shooed him with her hands. He shook his massive head. She started to run at him, slipping a little on the frosty grass.

“Listen, hamburger, I was giving you the benefit of the doubt when I thought you were a gentleman, now go.” She charged at him, waving her arms.

He snorted and took a few quick steps away from her before turning back to face her again. It clicked in her city-girl brain that she wasn’t going to win a battle against a one-ton animal. Plus, she had nowhere to run. The small herd of cattle were between her and the barn. The house was a few hundred feet behind her. There were definitely no trees to climb.

Her legs suddenly grew a little shaky and she started to worry how much it would hurt to be trampled by a bull. He had turned his attention back to her. The other cows were grazing and moving away. Maybe she should have started with them because they definitely looked less aggressive.

Walk away, slow and easy. It was the same advice she’d given herself on city streets at night when someone walked a little too closely behind her or came out of an alley looking for trouble. Never let them see your fear.

She started to walk, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t going to charge. He seemed content to watch. But as she moved toward the barn, she heard him moving. She looked back over her shoulder and he was trotting toward her, his head lowered.