Christmas with the Rancher: The Rancher / Christmas Cowboy / A Man of Means

She went up the steps and into the house. John Everett stood looking after her wistfully. She thought he was nice. She liked him. But when she’d come off the dance floor trailing Cort Brannt, she’d been radiating like a furnace. Whether she knew it or not, she was in love with Cort. Shame, he thought as he drove off. She was just the sort of woman he’d like to settle down with. Not much chance of that, now.

Maddie didn’t sleep at all. She stared at the ceiling. Her body tingled from the long contact with Cort’s. She could feel his breath on her forehead, his lips in her hair. She could hear what he’d whispered.

She flushed at the memory. It had evoked incredible hunger. She didn’t understand why she had these feelings now, when she hadn’t had them for that boy who’d tried to hurt her so badly. She’d really thought she was crazy about him. But it was nothing like this.

Since her bad experience, she hadn’t dated much. She’d seen her father get mad, but it was always quick and never physical. She hadn’t been exposed to men who hit women. Now she knew they existed. It had been a worrying discovery.

Cort had frightened her when he’d lost his temper so violently in her father’s office. She didn’t think he’d attack her. But she’d been wary of him, until they danced together. Even if he was drunk, it had been the experience of a lifetime. She thought she could live on it forever, even if Odalie came home and Cort married her. He was never going to be happy with her, though. Odalie loved herself so much that there was no room in her life for a man.

If only the other woman had fallen in love with the Italian voice trainer and married him. Then Cort would have to let go of his unrequited feelings for Odalie, and maybe look in another direction. Maybe look in Maddie’s direction.

On the other hand, he’d only been teasing at the dance. He wasn’t himself.

Cold sober, he’d never have anything to do with Maddie. Probably, he’d just been missing Odalie and wanted a warm body to hold. Yes. That was probably it.

Just before dawn she fell asleep, but all too soon it was time to get up and start doing the chores around the ranch.

She went to feed her flock of hens, clutching the metal garbage can lid and the leafy limb to fend off Pumpkin. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that it was going to come down to a hard decision one day. Pumpkin protected her hens, yes; he would be the bane of predators everywhere. But he was equally dangerous to people. What if he flew up and got one of her cowboys in the eye? She’d been reading up on rooster behavior, and she’d read some horror stories.

There had been all sorts of helpful advice, like giving him special treats and being nice to him. That had resulted in more gouges on her legs, even through her slacks, where his spurs had landed. Then there was the advice about having his spurs trimmed. Good advice, but who was going to catch and hold him while someone did that? None of her cowboys were lining up to volunteer.

“You problem child,” she told Pumpkin as he chased her toward the gate. “One day, I’ll have to do something about you!”

She got through the gate in the nick of time and shut it, hard. At least he wasn’t going to get out of there, she told herself. She’d had Ben go around the perimeter of the large fenced area that surrounded the henhouse and plug any openings where that sneaky feathered fiend could possibly get out. If she kept him shut up, he couldn’t hurt anybody, and the fence was seven feet high. No way he was jumping that!

She said so to Ben as she made her way to the barn to check on a calf they were nursing; it had dropped late and its mother had been killed by predators. They found it far on the outskirts of the ranch. They couldn’t figure how it had wandered so far, but then, cattle did that. It was why you brought pregnant cows up close to the barn, so that you’d know when they were calving. It was especially important to do that in winter, just before the spring calves were due.

She looked over the gate at the little calf in the stall and smiled. “Pretty boy,” she teased.

He was a purebred Santa Gertrudis bull. Some were culled and castrated and became steers, if they had poor conformation or were less than robust. But the best ones were treated like cattle royalty, spoiled rotten and watched over. This little guy would one day bring a handsome price as a breeding bull.

She heard a car door slam and turned just as Cort came into the barn.

She felt her heartbeat shoot off like a rocket.

He tilted his hat back and moved to the stall, peering over it. “That’s a nice young one,” he remarked.

“His mother was killed, so we’re nursing him,” she faltered.

He frowned. “Killed?”

“Predators, we think,” she replied. “She was pretty torn up. We found her almost at the highway, out near your line cabin. Odd, that she wandered so far.”

“Very odd,” he agreed.

Ben came walking in with a bottle. “’Day, Cort,” he said pleasantly.

“How’s it going, Ben?” the younger man replied.

“So far so good.”

Maddie smiled as Ben settled down in the hay and fed the bottle to the hungry calf.

“Poor little guy,” Maddie said.

“He’ll make it,” Ben promised, smiling up at her.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Maddie said. She was reluctant to be alone with Cort after the night before, but she couldn’t see any way around it.

“You’re up early,” she said, fishing for a safe topic.

“I didn’t sleep.” He stuck his hands into his pockets as he strolled along with her toward the house.

“Oh?”

He stopped, so that she had to. His eyes were bloodshot and they had dark circles under them. “I drank too much,” he said. “I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved with you.”

“Oh.” She looked around for anything more than one syllable that she could reply with. “That’s…that’s okay.”

He stared down at her with curiously intent eyes. “You’re incredibly naive.”

She averted her eyes and her jaw clenched. “Yes, well, with my background, you’d probably be the same way. I haven’t been anxious to repeat the mistakes of the past with some other man who wasn’t what he seemed to be.”

“I’m sorry. About what happened to you.”

“Everybody was sorry,” she replied heavily. “But nobody else has to live with the emotional baggage I’m carrying around.”

“How did you end up at the party with John?”

She blinked. “Well, he came over to show me some things about animal husbandry, and he asked me to go with him. It was sort of surprising, really. He doesn’t date anybody.”

“He’s had a few bad experiences with women. So have I.”

She’d heard about Cort’s, but she wasn’t opening that topic with him. “Would you like coffee?” she asked. “Great-Aunt Sadie went shopping, but she left a nice coffee cake baking in the oven. It should be about ready.”

“Thanks. I could use a second cup,” he added with a smile.

But the smile faded when he saw the fancy European coffee machine on the counter. “Where the hell did you buy that?” he asked.

She flushed. “I didn’t. John likes European coffee, so he brought the machine and the pods over with him.”

He lifted his chin. “Did he, now? I gather he thinks he’ll be having coffee here often, then?”

She frowned. “He didn’t say anything about that.”

He made a huffing sound in his throat, just as the stove timer rang. Maddie went to take the coffee cake out of the oven. She was feeling so rattled, it was a good thing she’d remembered that it was baking. She placed it on a trivet. It smelled of cinnamon and butter.

“My great-aunt can really cook,” she remarked as she took off the oven mitts she’d used to lift it out.