Christmas on the Ranch--A Clean Romance

by Julianna Morris

  Gideon shrugged. “It’s a waste of gasoline to bring two vehicles. While you’re working at the museum, I’ll get a load of boards from the lumberyard and buy supplies at the hardware store.”

  “Oh. Well, I’ll need to change my jeans first. As you’ve pointed out, calves get slobbery. Libby is going, too. She offered to assist at the museum.”

  “That’s what Mom told me.”

  “And I still have to sanitize the bottles,” Libby said after Alaina had left. She put the new calf in her enclosure. “But I’ve already given the older calves their milk replacer and put out starter feed.”

  “I saw the calves in the pasture. Go ahead and change your clothes, I’ll finish.”

  “But I want to save you work,” his sister protested. “You didn’t expect to have someone else at the ranch this summer.”

  “I’ve told you a dozen times, I love having you here,” Gideon said, wishing she didn’t feel the need to repay him. As far as he was concerned, the Double Branch was his siblings’ home, too. The same with his mother and grandparents. The ranch belonged to him legally, but it was part of a long Westcott family heritage and they were always welcome. “Go on, I’ve got it handled.”

  “All right. Come, Cookie.”

  Cookie padded after his mistress. He was a fine dog, not suited to working cattle but devoted to Libby.

  Gideon swiftly sanitized the bottles and nipples his sister had used for the calves. Except for the new orphan, the others required only two bottle feedings each day and would soon be weaned. The Double Branch had a decent success rate at saving orphaned calves and he would do his best to ensure Rita was one of the lucky ones.

  Rita?

  He shook his head at the mental slip. Naming orphan calves wasn’t a good idea. When you turned at-risk animals into pets and became attached to them, it was even tougher when they didn’t survive. And he already took things hard enough when he lost one. A dead calf meant he’d failed.

  Gideon checked on the new calf in her pen. She was lying in the hay, asleep after the hard work of filling her tummy. One of the barn cats was curled up against her. Suki’s primary job was pest control, but she was also a natural-born nanny. More than the other cats, she kept the orphans company, sleeping with them, kneading their shoulders and giving them baths.

  He rubbed his jaw, wishing he knew where the newborn had come from. Another rancher’s cow could have roamed onto his rangeland, but what had happened to her after giving birth? Two of his hands were up there today, checking brands and otherwise investigating.

  Gideon put the last bottle on a rack to drain and then walked up the slope to find Alaina already waiting by the truck. He gestured to the large carrying case at her feet. “That’s a lot of equipment.”

  “I just hope it’s enough. With any luck I’ll get decent pictures, but I’ve never worked on something like this before.”

  “I doubt you need luck.”

  * * *

  ALAINA BLINKED AT the sideways compliment. While she was confident of her abilities, photographing old documents was new to her. She didn’t know what condition they might be in or if the paper had darkened, making them hard to read. Scanning might be a better option, but she wouldn’t dare press an old journal onto a screen and risk damaging the spine.

  “I’ll do my best,” she murmured.

  Gideon rubbed the back of his neck and seemed uncomfortable. “About the calf. I should have warned you that orphans have a rough time, particularly newborns. We do what we can to help them survive, but calves are better off when they have their mothers and are out on grazing land.”

  “Libby told me the same thing. But I’m well aware that life isn’t always fair and it doesn’t offer guarantees.”

  “You’re talking about your husband’s accident.”

  Alaina shook her head. Oddly she hadn’t been thinking about Mason, though his death had taught her more about cold, hard reality than she’d ever needed to learn. “When you’re on a field study, you don’t interfere with nature. I’m passionate about wolves. At the same time, I love the animals that unfortunately become their prey. I had to accept the balance of nature or break my heart over everything that happened.”

  “Still, naming a calf makes it harder if you lose them. You forget they’re livestock and they become more like a family pet.”

  Alaina smiled faintly. “Surely a motherless calf needs to know someone cares about her. Love has a healing quality of its own.”

  Gideon didn’t look convinced. “My great-grandmother would have agreed, but Grandpa Colby was upset when she got involved with the hopeless cases, saying he didn’t want to watch her break her heart.”

  “How many times did she save the hopeless cases?”

  “More often than he expected,” Gideon admitted. “But it’s also a question of resources. I can’t spend days taking care of an individual calf. I try, but work on a ranch never ends and you can’t neglect the rest of the herd.”

  Brave talk, Alaina thought.

  Especially when he must have walked miles to spare Brushfire’s injured leg while carrying a calf in his arms. She’d lifted Rita a couple of times and, newborn or not, that baby was heavy. Toting sixty-some pounds of wriggling, wet, complaining calf couldn’t have been easy, even for such a strong man.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Libby exclaimed as she came down the porch steps, toting a large cooler bag. “Honest, it wasn’t my fault. Mom wanted to send lunch with us and she was still getting everything together.”

  “Lunch is hours away,” Gideon objected. “We could have gotten a meal in town if it was needed.”

  “You know how she is. Food is the answer to most of life’s problems. She suggested a picnic in the park so we could show Alaina where the Founders Day celebration will be in August. Don’t read anything into it,” Libby added hastily. “She just wants you to relax before haying season becomes too frantic.”

  With a frown he took the bag and put it inside a cargo container in the back of his truck. Alaina almost felt sorry for the guy. After all, he was trying to get errands done efficiently and Helene wanted to turn the day into a social outing. Nonetheless, it probably wasn’t a case of matchmaking. His mother seemed to accept that her son wasn’t likely to get married again.

  Over Libby’s objections, Alaina got into the back seat with her equipment bag, so brother and sister could sit in front. It wasn’t too cramped, though the space had probably been designed for children. A pang went through her. While she and Mason had talked about having a family, it hadn’t been feasible to take a baby on field studies. Someday, they’d said. But someday had never come.

  Alaina shook her head. There wasn’t any point to thinking about might-have-beens.

  She fastened her seat belt and leaned forward as Gideon headed toward the main road. “Libby, I forgot to ask, how was the farmers’ market?”

  “They had the usual stuff for this time of year. Jerky, honey and a few salad greens for sale, plus flowers and plants. It didn’t matter. I was mostly trying to get Mom out of the house.”

  From her position behind Libby, Alaina could see Gideon’s strong profile. A muscle in his jaw pulsed. “I thought being at the Double Branch would help. Now I’m not so sure. That’s one of the few times she’s left the ranch since she got here.”

  “She is better,” Libby insisted. “It’s just easier for me to see because I haven’t been around as much. When she stayed at my apartment, she just sat and read during the day, except she almost never turned a page. She insisted on cooking, but then she wouldn’t eat, and I’d find her mopping the kitchen floor and ironing my clothes in the middle of the night.”

  “At least she’s eating and sleeping more now.”

  “That’s right.”

  Alaina settled back again, aware she was hearing a discussion Gideon would probably have preferred to keep w
ithin the family. She couldn’t make herself invisible, so to give them a sense of privacy while they talked, she opened the envelope Janet had sent her and took out the addendum to the contract.

  The language, while sprinkled with legal terms, was straightforward. It amended the clause that said Alaina would do nothing to impact ranch operations, and added the agreement about Gideon giving her a series of tours. As promised, there was also a certified check made out to Gideon, along with a receipt form for him to sign. Janet’s note said that it should be all right for Alaina to hand the check over once she had the notarized addendum in hand.

  Alaina was surprised that Gideon hadn’t wanted his own lawyer to review the language first, but he might have done a phone consult.

  She looked up as they were passing the roadside tavern outside town, then quickly refocused on the addendum. She tried not to dwell on unpleasant memories, but seeing a bar or tavern could raise a boatload. The truck responsible for killing Mason had been carrying liquor for a similar business. Several cases had gotten smashed in the accident and the odor had permeated the air. The smell of scotch still turned her stomach. But even worse was knowing the deliveryman had lost control because he’d been drinking himself.

  Libby’s voice broke into her grim thoughts. “Alaina, you must be a million miles away. We’re here.”

  Alaina blinked, realizing they were in a parking lot with the credit union on one side and the post office on the other.

  “Sorry. I was reading the paperwork.”

  No customers were waiting inside the small credit union and they were able to have the agreement signed and notarized with minimum fuss. As soon as Alaina had her copies, she gave Gideon the certified check and had him sign the receipt.

  “Why don’t you cash or deposit it now?” she suggested.

  His jaw tightened, but he went over and handed it to the teller.

  Alaina waited long enough to be certain he’d follow through before telling Libby that she would meet her at the museum. “I want to mail my lawyer’s copy to her,” she explained. “The museum isn’t far from here, right?”

  “It’s just down the street, next to the hardware store.” Libby pointed east. “Don’t worry about your equipment bag. I’ll take care of it.”

  At the post office, Alaina wrote the address on a priority envelope and enclosed the receipt and her sister-in-law’s file copy of the agreement. Another customer, an older man, came in as she turned to leave. She gave him a smile, thinking he had the pinched expression of someone perpetually displeased with the world.

  “Do I know you?” he demanded abruptly, blocking the exit.

  “I don’t think so. I just moved here.”

  He thrust his face close to hers. “You look real familiar.”

  “Maybe you’ve met my doppelgänger,” she suggested, refusing to be intimidated or take a step backward.

  “Your doppa-what?”

  “Yancy, come over here and leave that lady alone. What do you need?” called the postal clerk.

  “What do you think? I gotta get my mail, the same as always.” Yancy stomped to the front desk.

  Alaina left in a hurry. At the museum she found Libby on a bench by the door, the camera bag tucked behind her feet.

  “Mr. Hewitt told me he’d be here at nine thirty,” Alaina said, checking her watch. “Gideon must be running his errands.”

  “He’s at the lumberyard.”

  Alaina got a camera from her bag and took pictures of the museum sign and building while they waited.

  A few minutes later a man came over from the hardware store, introducing himself as Nelson Hewitt. “I’ve met Libby a number of times, but she may not remember me.”

  Libby smiled. “Of course I remember you, Mr. Hewitt. You’re the judge for the races at the Founders Day celebration.”

  “I’ll be doing that forever. But please, call me Nels. Both of you,” he urged. “Alaina, I took the letters and journals from the display cases this morning and put them in our meeting room, where the lighting is better.” He unlocked the museum and turned off the security system.

  “Have they been photographed or scanned before?” Alaina asked, wondering if she was simply duplicating someone else’s efforts. At the same time, she was determined to get photos herself, if only for the opportunity to touch something that Theodore Roosevelt had handled.

  “I hate to admit we don’t even have transcripts,” Nels confessed. “It’s a relief to know they’ll finally be documented. I’ll leave you to work, just keep the front door locked. We don’t have any docents coming in today.”

  Alaina nodded. She enjoyed small-town museums, but they were often run by volunteers with little time for things that a larger facility would do automatically.

  A large skylight illuminated the meeting room and she decided to wait until the sun had climbed higher before working in there. Meanwhile, she visited the various sections of the museum, taking pictures for their new brochure.

  The natural history room was the only location where she didn’t linger. It was too eerie and heartbreaking, with wolves, bears and mountain lions dominating the taxidermy displays. A number bore a discreet placard saying Donated by G. Carmichael, in memory of Colby Westcott.

  Ugh.

  She’d gone back and forth, speculating about Gideon’s attitude toward predator species in Montana, but this was not a good sign.

  In the museum’s meeting room, Alaina took a few artistic shots, using the play of light and shadow across the journal pages and letters. They both put on the cotton document gloves Nels had left, then she rigged her tripod to keep the camera steady and centered. The letters were the easiest and she took photos of each page and the envelopes, before starting on the journals. Libby patiently turned each leaf of the leather-bound books, allowing Alaina to concentrate on her equipment.

  The temptation to read the entries was overwhelming, but she resisted, knowing Gideon could return at any minute.

  It was irritating. He was the one who’d insisted they drive in together, so she shouldn’t feel the need to hurry. In any case, she was documenting an important part of his family history, something most people would be glad to have done.

  Still, maybe she was assuming more about the situation than was warranted. Gideon might be okay with having an excuse not to rush back to the Double Branch.

  She was so intent on her task that a knock on the outer door made her jump.

  “I’ll see who it is,” Libby said and hurried out.

  The distinctive timber of Gideon’s voice rose from the other room and renewed awareness crept through Alaina. While she hadn’t totally changed her mind about men or romance, he was making her think more about it. She couldn’t deny missing the physical closeness in marriage, but it was the unspoken communication and shared understanding that she missed the most.

  The memory of a shirtless Gideon carrying the calf intruded into Alaina’s mind again and she pressed her lips together. Okay, maybe she missed the various aspects of marriage equally. But that didn’t change anything. She’d already had the best and didn’t expect to find it again. Accepting anything less was unthinkable.

  “How is it going?” Gideon asked as he came into the room. She looked up, silently conceding that he was just as attractive in his jeans and work shirt as he’d been bare-chested.

  She swallowed and pushed the thought from her mind. “I’m making good progress. Libby has been a big help.”

  Libby returned and they went back to work. Alaina kept reminding herself not to get too excited. Letters and journals were often about everyday activities, which might be interesting but not historically significant.

  Still, she was awed by the chance to read letters from Theodore Roosevelt. They’d been written by a man responsible for preserving huge amounts of land for the future. A president, who’d met countless people as famous as
himself. An adventurer, whose exploits were still the stuff of legend. How could they be dull?

  She was so focused on her task she didn’t immediately realize Gideon was peering over her shoulder.

  “Do you need something?” she asked, inhaling sharply.

  “No. But my great-grandfather loaned everything to the museum when we were kids, so I’ve mostly seen this stuff in display cases.”

  He put on a pair of document gloves and picked up one of the Roosevelt letters, staring at it intently. Alaina wondered if he felt the same excitement as she did at handling something so intimately connected with history. Maybe it was an even bigger thrill for him since the missives had been written to one of his ancestors.

  Libby turned another page of the journal.

  On it was a date and in large shaky script, After all these years, I finally begin to understand Theodore. Alaina took a picture, her curiosity rising to an even greater height.

  “I wonder what he meant,” Gideon mused. “What else did he write?”

  “I don’t know.” Alaina turned the remaining pages in the book. They were all blank. “Apparently he stopped journaling after this. Is the date significant?”

  “Not that I recall. But Jonah didn’t live much longer, so he could have been talking about old age. Maybe it’s something he and Roosevelt discussed in their letters.”

  That seemed possible. Theodore Roosevelt had died at a relatively young age in modern terms, but his body had paid a toll for his many adventures, particularly on his ill-fated expedition down the River of Doubt. At sixty, the former president must have felt closer to ninety.

  “Hello,” called a voice. It was Nels Hewitt. “I came to see if you were done.”

  Alaina smiled at him and began packing equipment in her bag. “I just took the last photo. Naturally, copies will go to the family, but with their permission, I can give the museum a set.”

  “Excellent. I’ll return everything to the display. Colby Westcott paid for climate-controlled cases and it’s best if the exhibits aren’t out for too long. Not that any of us have had curator training, but he researched the subject before loaning us the material.”