From the corner of her eye, Alaina saw Gideon had ridden up, as well. “The offer is appreciated, but I’ll manage,” she said firmly. “Don’t let me keep you from your other work.”
* * *
GIDEON RESTRAINED A LAUGH. He’d arrived in time to hear two of his employees offer their assistance to Alaina, followed by her refusal. It didn’t mean she could cope on her own, just that she was going to try.
Chad and Jeremy looked disappointed. They were decent guys and living on the Double Branch offered few opportunities to socialize with an attractive woman, but they didn’t argue. Her tone had been clear; she wasn’t available.
“Hey, boss,” Jeremy greeted him. “We didn’t see any problems with the upper-elevation herds, though we found trees that bears had freshly marked. We also saw grizzly tracks, large and small. They might be from that young female we spotted last fall on the ranch boundary. She could have a couple of cubs now.”
Gideon sighed. He tried to coexist with grizzly bears. They might have been removed from the endangered list in some areas, but they were still at risk with their low reproductive rates. Vigilantly riding the range helped reduce the number of cows they killed, but it didn’t resolve the problem entirely.
“Stay alert,” he told the two ranch hands. “I don’t need to remind you how protective a mother bear can be if she thinks her babies are threatened.”
“Will do.”
“Have you seen any wolves?” Alaina asked, her eyes bright with interest.
Chad glanced at Gideon before shaking his head. “Not this year, ma’am.”
“Please let me know if you do. They stay close to their dens when the pups are young, but there’s always a chance.”
They tipped their hats again and rode on.
“Alaina, do you have a particular interest in wolves?” Gideon queried, warning zigzagging up his spine. His great-grandfather had led the local fight against them being reintroduced to Yellowstone National Park—Colby Westcott had despised wolves as much as he’d loved dogs. A number of the local ranchers still felt the same. Attitudes might be changing in some areas, but not in this small corner of the world.
Alaina smiled confidently. “I hope to get a lot of pictures. Filming a wolf pack, behaving naturally, would be an amazing opportunity. My husband studied wolves all over the northern hemisphere, but I’ve rarely been lucky enough to see them in the wild when I had the best camera available. Not that our field equipment was awful, but nothing like what I have now.”
Gideon dismounted and tied Brushfire to the porch railing. “That isn’t a good idea. I’ve been thinking—we have wildflowers, the mountains, valleys, all sorts of stuff for you to photograph. The ranch, for example. The name comes from two rivers joining on the property. Very, um, picturesque. Our ranch operations could be photographed, as well. I’m open to that. Branding is over, but I can take you riding to get pictures of our herds.”
She crossed her arms. “This is about me backpacking and camping alone, isn’t it? Sorry, but I’ll choose my own subjects, thank you.”
“It’s just that I know how far you might have to go and how long you might have to wait. Wolves can be hard to spot. More importantly, there are risks.”
“Oh, puleeeze.” Alaina gave him a disgusted look. “Are you one of those people who think wolves are mindless predators who kill everything in sight?”
Gideon’s head began to ache. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“Really? Wolves have an incredibly positive impact. They’re far more important than anyone knew before they were reintroduced to Yellowstone. Have you seen the information about how much healthier the ecosystem is now that wolves are present? Their presence is even changing the shape of the rivers.”
“Right. They’ve been really busy, working out there with picks and shovels and bulldozers. It’s a big tourist draw.”
Alaina’s unusual eyes chilled to the color of glacial ice. “Actually, it’s a natural process of restoring balance between predators and prey and the land responding. I’d explain in more detail, but you obviously wouldn’t listen with an open mind.”
“Let’s drop the subject. I’m simply concerned about your safety. Bear attacks are also a worry. You heard what Jeremy said about the mother grizzly. We have other bears, too. And don’t tell me they won’t give you any trouble because you love them or something like that. Bears are bears.”
Alaina touched a finger to her sternum and appeared to be tracing the outline of something beneath her shirt. “I have every intention of being careful, but I’m not concerned. Anyhow, the chance of a bear attack is what, less than one in thirty million or so?”
Gideon didn’t know the statistics and didn’t care. Alaina was going to make him crazy with her naive optimism about wilderness hiking. “Do you have bear spray?” he asked between clenched teeth.
“Six of the extra big bottles. I also have bear canisters and bags for food storage on the trail, along with an air horn. Once I get settled and familiar with the area, I’ll leave caches of supplies in the locations where I set up observation points. It’ll mean less to carry when I go out.”
He had to admit she’d done her homework, or some of it, and caching supplies was a good idea. “Bear spray helps, but encounters are still risky. That includes black bears, as well as grizzlies.”
“Which is precisely why I have two super-telephoto lenses and others that are less powerful. I’ll show you one.” Alaina disappeared into the cabin and returned with an impressive piece of equipment. “I don’t want to get close to my wildlife subjects, because the closer you are, the less naturally an animal will behave. With this, I can be a good distance away and still capture the smallest details. Would you like me to explain how a camera works? You know, focal length, ISO, pixels—”
“That isn’t necessary,” Gideon broke in quickly. “But it would be best not to discuss your interest in wolves around Bannister. Most folks in this area aren’t too happy about them.” He stepped from the porch and untied Brushfire again. “I have chores to do in the horse barn. Do you need anything else?”
“Besides your advice?”
Heaven help him. Alaina Wright might look as if a breath of wind would blow her away, but she wasn’t shy about voicing opinions and standing up for herself.
“No. Have a good evening,” he muttered and led Brushfire away. At the horse barn, he looked around and saw she’d gone back into the cabin. Yet his eyes widened. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the untidy piles of firewood were gone. The wood had all been stacked in the firewood racks.
His eldest ranch hand was inside the tack room and Gideon called to him. “Nate, did you help Mrs. Wright stack that firewood?”
“Nope. I just got back a short time ago. I would have offered to help later, but saw it was all done. Did you—”
“No,” Gideon interrupted. “She must have taken care of it after I left this afternoon.”
Nate whistled. “I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be too impressed. This is just her first day. We’ll see how she manages when the snow is over her knees, the wind is howling and it’s twenty below outside. If she lasts that long.”
The ranch hand nodded and returned to work.
Gideon removed Brushfire’s saddle and began grooming the stallion. He wasn’t convinced Alaina knew what she was getting into, but she must be as stubborn as a mountain goat to have sorted that wood so quickly.
He was putting Brushfire in his stall when a distinctive crack echoed through the air. He fastened the stall door and stepped outside in time to see Alaina swinging her ax again. The blade sank into a chunk of wood, which split into two pieces.
Every instinct Gideon possessed told him to go over, grab the ax and do it for her. But she’d refused Chad’s help, and Gideon had little doubt she’d refuse his, as well.
He frowned, assessing her s
kill as she continued to work. She was tentative and moved slowly, telling him that she didn’t have much practice splitting wood, but she was careful and her technique and balance were all right. Still, he’d split enough logs over the years to know how long it would take her at this rate. Not only that, she was half his size and couldn’t have a quarter of his strength.
His frown deepened.
Alaina had mentioned that she’d ordered more firewood to be delivered, which meant more logs to be split. Robert Pritchett had provided the first lot and would probably be the source of the next. Gideon took out his phone and found the handyman’s number.
“Hey, Gideon, what’s up?” Robert answered on the third ring.
“Are you delivering more wood to my place?”
“Five more cords, next Tuesday. Any problem with the first load? Some of it had knots, but no more than usual. I haven’t gotten any complaints from Mrs. Wright.”
“No problem I know of,” Gideon hesitated, “but can you make the next one in smaller pieces? That is, all of them stove size? I’ll pay the extra.”
The handyman chuckled. “Is the lady having trouble using an ax?”
“Mostly I’m having trouble watching her. I keep expecting disaster. Less wood for her to split would improve my mental health. Just don’t say anything. To anyone. I wouldn’t want her knowing I got involved.”
Robert chuckled. “Gotcha. See you in a few days.”
Gideon disconnected and returned the phone to his pocket, feeling better about the situation.
Slightly.
CHAPTER TWO
THE NEXT MORNING Alaina woke to see a gray light coming through the loft window she’d left open to clear a lingering stale scent in the cabin. It was so chilly that her breath was fogging over the pillow.
Steeling herself, she crawled from her nest of blankets to close the window and look outside. The late cold front had moved in and snow was falling, draping the trees and buildings with a thick layer of white.
She pulled on a heavy jacket and hurried down the loft steps to light the fire, glad she’d taken the time to lay it with paper and kindling the evening before. She watched with rapt attention as the paper flared brightly, then the kindling began to burn and the larger pieces of wood last of all. Belatedly she turned on the fan that drove air around the firebox and sped heat into the room.
“Brrrr,” she muttered, though it would have been worse if she’d still been camping in Yellowstone. The Old Faithful Inn was nice, but she’d only been able to stay a few days since guests with reservations were arriving. When other accommodations had dried up, she’d moved to one of the campgrounds, preferring to stay in the park, rather than drive each day from West Yellowstone or Jackson Hole.
A hint of melancholy went through her. Mason had tried to pamper her when they were in the field together, insisting she remain in her sleeping bag while he got the coffee started. It had seemed important to him, so she’d rarely refused unless other members of the team were present. And she had loved watching him move around their campsite, strong and vigorous, anticipating the day ahead. The first time she’d camped by herself, tears had poured for over an hour.
A sharp knock on the cabin door ripped Alaina away from her memories. She left the warmth from the fireplace and found Gideon Carmichael on the porch.
“Yes?”
“Just checking on how things are going. I figured you were awake when I saw smoke rising from the chimney.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “That’s what happens when you light a fire. Did Helene send you?”
His brown eyes narrowed. “Mom wanted to know how you were doing, but I would have come, regardless. This is your first full day on the Double Branch and the change in the weather must have been unexpected.”
Unexpected?
Exasperation replaced Alaina’s humor. “I’ve spent the last two weeks camping in Yellowstone, and have been taking pictures there since the middle of April, so I keep a close watch on predictions from the weather service. On top of that, my vehicle is equipped with a satellite radio system. I’m usually tuned to a station that reports local conditions.”
“Oh.”
“Why did you agree to let me stay at the Double Branch if you think I’m incapable of even checking a weather report?”
Gideon crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t say you were incapable, but you were busy yesterday, driving to the Double Branch and settling in. Besides, people who don’t live here aren’t aware of how unpredictable conditions can be at any time of the year.”
Alaina drew a deep calming breath and told herself not to overreact.
“I’m fine,” she said. “There’s no need to check on me from now on.” Her toes curled inside the heavy wool socks she’d worn to bed. Chill air swirled through the open door, but inviting Gideon inside didn’t seem wise, if for no other reason than his cowhands might see them and get the wrong idea.
“In that case, I’ll go back to work.”
He turned and headed toward one of the barns.
Alaina shivered and shut the door. She considered climbing back into bed while the cabin warmed up, then scolded herself. What was the quote, “Begin as you mean to go on”?
There was plenty to do, including splitting more firewood and cataloging the photos she’d taken over the past several days. She was behind on making notes about each shot and didn’t want to lose her impressions or any other information.
Yellowstone was in its annual baby boom and there was nothing like seeing a bison calf kicking up its heels with the pure joy of youth or a pair of pronghorn antelope babies taking their first steps. Life exploded in the park each year and it was a delight to watch. Over the past two months, she’d shot thousands of photos—bison, coyote pups, elk, even Calliope hummingbirds.
Digital photography was amazing. She could see her work immediately and evaluate where she needed to modify her settings to get a different effect.
Unfortunately people weren’t so easy to figure out.
Alaina opened the stove and fed more firewood into the crackling flames. She glanced around the cabin, envisioning it decked in Christmas decorations. Though modernized, the rough wood beams overhead had been left. They’d be perfect for evergreen swags and strings of lights.
She loved Christmas and the snow falling outside had automatically made her think about the holiday. She’d brought a few decorations with her, but would have to get more. If Montana was anything like most places, she should be able to start buying them by the end of summer.
Her family was upset that she wasn’t planning to come home this year for Thanksgiving or Christmas, but she didn’t want to lose a minute of her time on the Double Branch. Anyway, she was tired of them urging her to start dating again, to find someone and get on with her life.
They meant well, and she’d gone out a few times with an old high school friend to satisfy their concerns, but enough was enough.
She was quite content on her own.
* * *
GIDEON TRIED NOT to smile as he recalled how Alaina had looked when she opened the cabin door. Still beautiful, but her silky hair had been mussed and her shapely form concealed by thick layers of clothing beneath her jacket—clothes she appeared to have slept in.
It was reassuring. Even though she claimed to have been camping the past few weeks, if she was this uncomfortable during a June snowstorm, she was unlikely to head out when the weather was a more serious risk. He’d needed to adjust to the weather himself on the Double Branch. The ranch was at a higher elevation than where he’d grown up, so it was colder, snowier and winter usually arrived earlier and hung on longer.
In the horse barn, he cleaned the stalls and filled the feed and water troughs. The cowhands kept their mounts in another barn closer to the bunkhouse, but these were the horses Gideon had bred himself or were left from his great-g
randfather’s day. Four of the mares had been bred to Brushfire and would deliver next year.
“How are you doing, Griz?” he said to the horse in the last stall.
Grizzly snorted and turned his gaze away. He was a fine stock horse, but he hadn’t been the same since Colby Westcott’s death. Some people didn’t think horses grieved, but Gideon knew differently. Despite his great-grandfather’s advanced age, he’d spent hours each day sitting in the barn or by the paddock with Griz, communing with nature and each other. They’d shared a special connection.
For a while Gideon had worried the horse would just fade away without Colby, but he’d finally begun eating again. He could even be ridden, though he wasn’t interested in bonding with anyone else.
Outside the snow was still falling in a steady curtain, but it was the string of white lights on the roofline of the cabin porch that made Gideon stop and stare.
Christmas lights.
Alaina had brought Christmas lights with her, and had braved the snowstorm to hang them.
In June.
Heaven help him.
At the main house, he carefully brushed the wet snow from his hair and clothing before stepping inside. His mother insisted she was in charge of the housekeeping while she was there and he didn’t want to cause her more work.
“How is Alaina doing?” Helene asked.
“Fine. She’s hung Christmas lights on the cabin porch.”
“Really?” His mother hurried to the window to look out at Alaina’s efforts. “Goodness, isn’t that pretty?”
“It’s June, not December.”
“They’re just white lights, son. A lot of people keep them up all year. Businesses, too.”
Gideon shook his head. He believed in practicality and strings of twinkling lights were decidedly impractical. Alaina belonged in a photography studio doing portraits, or taking pictures of animals from behind tall sturdy fences.
Christmas on the Ranch--A Clean Romance Page 3