His Holiday Bride

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His Holiday Bride Page 14

by Jillian Hart


  “What a good boy,” she praised as they bounded up the ramp together and she closed the tailgate.

  Autumn. She made him see the future. Weekend afternoons spent just like this surrounded by family and neighbors, horses and cows. Love so strong it ached. It was time to put down more roots here. Buy his own horse. Start dating Miss Autumn Granger on a steady basis.

  “Not bad, Ford.” She climbed over the tailgate. In a split second he was at her side, hand at her elbow, helping her. She didn’t need it, but that didn’t stop him.

  “I try.” He hopped down after her.

  “I don’t suppose you know how to herd cattle.”

  “I’ve read about it.”

  “Sure. I knew that.” She led the way into the barn where horses waited in a line, saddled and bridled. “You already know Lightning, so I had Scotty saddle him for you. Lightning is a trained working horse. He knows what to do. Give him his head. He’ll take you through the paces.”

  “Sounds as if Lightning doesn’t need me in the saddle.”

  “He doesn’t, but since Dad invited you I suppose we have to put you somewhere.” Not even close to the truth, but she wasn’t about to let Ford in on the secret. What nearly happened yesterday in the truck roared back to her full-force. She couldn’t forget him leaning closer, intent on kissing her.

  “Let me get that for you.” Ford reached for Bella’s reins and untied them from the iron wall hoop.

  Why was she noticing the plane of his chest? The crook between his shoulder and his neck? Because she couldn’t forget the pure respite of being in his arms. She tried to escape and bumped into Bella’s shoulder. The mare nickered gently, and Ford inched closer. Panic flickered through her in sharp, tiny lashes. She was blocked in. He reached over her to settle the reins into place and wrap the ends around the saddle horn.

  She loved that he knew about riding. She liked that he had no problems helping with the cows. She admired the deep blue glint in his gaze as it settled on her. He traced the contours of her face as if he were memorizing them, as if he thought a tomboy like her could be beautiful. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek with tenderness.

  “I’m a little sweet on you, Autumn.” He leaned in, kissing close. “It’s only fair to warn you.”

  Yes, she was trapped. An answering tenderness uplifted her. He made her care. He’d gotten past her defenses.

  “Let’s saddle up!” Dad’s command echoed through the barn. “Let’s get these cattle moving.”

  The perfect excuse to slip away from Ford, but this time the distance made no difference. She wasn’t aware of Dad and Shay mounting up, or Mr. Kent and his son on horseback heading down to take point at the end of the driveway. Every iota of her attention remained focused on the brawny dark-haired cowboy settling onto the horse beside her. Back straight, posture perfect, relaxed as any lifetime horseman would be. He tipped his Stetson to her and rode away like the man of her prayers.

  Hold on to your heart, Autumn. She gathered Bella’s reins and wheeled her around in the breezeway. What had happened to the defenses she had built up over the years? They were gone, and she was wide open and vulnerable. There was no barrier between her deepest feelings and the man who rode ahead of her into the promising December sunshine.

  She couldn’t fall for him. She had to be strong no matter what.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ford reined the quarter horse down the driveway. He felt like a hero in a McMurtry novel seeing the cows milling around, smelling the scent of fresh-turned earth beneath their hooves and listening to the ringing moos.

  “You and Autumn will take the tail.” Frank charged up to him on the back of a powerful dark bay gelding. “You can handle that, Sheriff?”

  “I’d sure like to try.”

  “Any problems, you have your cell phone on you?” Frank wheeled his horse around without touching the reins. “Use it. Autumn, we’re under way. Hurry up, girl.”

  “I’m coming.” She trotted down the driveway. The sunlight tumbled over the golden red highlights in her hair and the delicate angle of her jaw.

  Looking at her made him fill up with every kind of emotion. Joy, a sense of belonging and the hope of what was to come wrapped around him. If only his grandfather could see him now. He would have adored Autumn. He would have approved Ford’s choice. Beyond all question he knew his parents would cherish her.

  “I can’t believe you started without me, Dad!” She rode toward him, posting easily in rhythm to Bella’s quick trot.

  “I can’t believe you were dawdling with the new sheriff in the barn,” Frank called over his shoulder as he cantered away. “Don’t think I didn’t see you.”

  Autumn blushing was a sight to behold. Her jaw dropped in shock, her rosebud mouth made a cute little O. Pink as a posy.

  He supposed he should take Frank’s comment as a sign of approval. That was a good feeling. Nice to know the father and best friend approved.

  Autumn was right. Lightning seemed to know exactly what to do. Head up, ears swiveling and nose sharp, the gelding cut to the right lane of the driveway when he caught up with the herd. The large congregation of cattle moved like a black flowing bovine river down the road.

  A plump, silver-haired woman came out on the back porch to watch the procession go by. She wore a checked, ruffled apron and a look of interest. He knew just how she felt. This was a Western show come to life. No film could ever capture the larger-than-life feeling of being in the saddle with the wind and sun and the majestic landscape surrounding you. The rock of the horse’s gait, the faint creak of the leather saddle and the impact of hundreds of hooves hitting the earth. The living, breathing power of the animals as they pushed and shoved and lowed. He felt smaller than he ever had before, but not insignificant. He was part of something bigger and better. Something good.

  He stood in his stirrups searching through the herd. Up ahead he caught sight of his brother. Shay rode toward the front. Hard to see more than his hat and coat in the fray, but he guessed little brother was grinning ear to ear. A dream come true for both of them.

  They’d reached the end of the driveway, and the herd swung left to spread out over the paved road. He didn’t even bother to comment that they were a hazard to traffic. He kept a sharp eye out for vehicles, but not one came by as they strolled along. Far up ahead the Kents’ two-ton truck led the way, with what looked like Kent’s granddaughter holding up a bucket of grain in the back of the bed.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Autumn charged by him, moving as one with Bella. A half-dozen cows peeled off from the herd, galloping with surprising speed across the front lawn. Ford watched as the stunning woman and her golden mare raced after them, swept around the far side and cut off their escape. The cattle had nowhere to run but back to the herd.

  Breathless, he watched her settle her cap on her head as if it was no big deal, all in a day’s work. For him, it had been something to see. New respect for her filled him. Hard not to fall deeper in love with her.

  “What are you looking at?” She cast him a doubtful grimace, acting as if her defenses were up, but he knew better. She couldn’t hide much from him. Not anymore. She guided her horse nearer to him. “Bella does most of the work.”

  “I wasn’t looking at Bella.”

  “You should be paying attention to the cattle, not me.”

  “They seem fairly contained.” He gestured ahead to the quick-paced mass of cattle eager to follow a grain bucket home. “Especially since both sides of the road are fenced.”

  “You never know when they might stampede.”

  “Now you’re teasing me.”

  “Someone has to keep you humble.” Humor was about the best defense she could muster at the time. A cow in the back of the herd mooed and shoved the steer in front of her harder.

  “What do you mean? I’m a humble guy.”

  “Oh, sure you are.” She rolled her eyes, doing her best to keep every single feeling in check. “You never swagger
with overconfidence.”

  “Hey, I don’t swagger.”

  “Fine, but you are overconfident.”

  “Everyone has at least one flaw.” He rocked easily with the horse’s gait and looked so fine in the saddle that she wished she could force her gaze away.

  “You know exactly how good-looking you are.”

  “Really? Glad you noticed,” he quipped. “I must be making progress. Persistence does pay off.”

  She clamped her jaw shut before she could say one word to encourage him. Don’t laugh. Don’t fall for him. You are just something new to him. A change of pace. Her fingers curled around her reins until she was sure if she peeled off her mittens her knuckles would be white.

  “So, have dinner with me on Friday night.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see the devastating flash of his grin. Her defenses wobbled like a tin roof overloaded with snow. She had a fondness for cowboys.

  “Friday night is the church bazaar at the firehouse.” Thank heavens she had a reasonable excuse.

  “How about Saturday night?”

  She took it as a sign when the impatient heifer shied away from the back of the herd and took off at a run, maybe hoping to find a shortcut to the grain. She escaped down the Greens’ driveway and Lightning took off, determined to bring in that cow with Ford on his back. Ford seemed to love it, judging by his cowboy’s hoot of glee.

  Once the cattle were safely behind their newly repaired fences on the Kents’ land, the four of them—Autumn and Dad, Ford and Shay—rode back home together. She wished she could say it hadn’t been a fun ride, but she would be lying. She swept the last of the pooled water off the concrete toward the drain. Ford had walked the last horse back to his stall; Dad and Shay had retreated to the house to catch the national rodeo finals on TV. The rest of the hired hands were on patrol. A load of towels swished in the washer, and she washed her hands in the sink, glad the horses were cared for.

  “I’m getting partial to Lightning.” Ford strolled into sight, faintly dusted with alfalfa bits. He appeared taller, if that was possible, and larger in her view. More substantial. He stopped to pet the cow sticking her nose over the top of her gate. “How much does a horse like that cost?”

  “Lightning has an awesome pedigree and a competition rating, so probably more than you make in a year.” She stopped to rub Buttercup’s poll. Too bad it brought her up close and personal with Ford. She felt the rasp of her coat sleeve against his. She breathed in his fresh wintry scent, hints of alfalfa and molasses from the grain.

  “Ouch. I could dig into my savings or set up a payment plan.”

  She knew him well enough to recognize the spark of humor crinkling in the corners of his eyes. “We can always use another hand. You could work it off mucking out stalls.”

  “I’ve got experience. Granddad put me to work in the horse barns when I stayed with him. Said it was to build character.”

  “Sure. As if you shoveled out the barns all day every day.” Buttercup’s tongue wrapped around her arm as a show of affection. In answer, Autumn ran her fingers down the long plane of the heifer’s nose in a light sweep. Buttercup sighed and closed her eyes. Her tongue lolled. She pulled away from Ford’s touch and burrowed her long face into Autumn’s stomach.

  “Aw, I love you, too, Buttercup.” She wrapped her arms around the bovine’s neck and snuggled her. Love came in all forms. See how full her life was? She had close friends, superglue bonds with her family and enough horses and cows to heap her affections on so that she had no room for anything more. No room whatsoever.

  “You doubt my integrity.” Ford didn’t seem offended. No, he seemed interested. Maybe he just thought he was interested in her. Maybe she was a challenge to him, and maybe once he’d captured her affections, he would let her down.

  He might not be Denny Jones, but Ford had the gift of coming on strong, too.

  “It’s not your integrity I doubt.” She unwrapped her arms from the cow and gave her a treat from her pocket. “You cleaned a few stalls for your grandfather now and then—”

  “Wrong.” His tone was as light as his step as he hurried to keep up with her. “I had the morning shift at the barns every morning every summer. No excuses, no vacations and no tardiness. I had a pitchfork in hand by 4:30 a.m. and I worked hard until nearly ten. I didn’t get paid a dime for it. Grandpop said the reward I got was worth far more than money.”

  She hiked through the open doors into the waning sunshine. Clouds were rolling in, and that’s what she had to do. Summon any obstacle to obscure her growing admiration for the man.

  “I tend to agree with him, although I couldn’t see it at the time.” He kept at her side, his long-legged stride easily adjusting to keep up with her shorter, faster one. “I worked because he asked me to. And because I did a good job, he taught me the finer points of horsemanship. Those lessons have served me well every day of my life since.”

  “You tell a good tale, Sherman. I grant you that.” She climbed up the stair step of bales, ducked her head to keep from bumping on the rafters and pulled on her work gloves.

  “It’s not a tale, pretty lady.” He walked with her the length of the stack to the edge of the top bales. Without her having to ask, he climbed down onto the landing of hay stacked below. He caught the first bale she threw him without so much as a wince. “What I learned from my grandfather helped me to excel at every job I’ve ever tried my hand at.”

  “You don’t have to convince me of anything.” She bent her knees and hefted a second bale by the wire ties. “I’m not the town council. You’re not accountable to me.”

  “I want you to know the man I am.” He caught the bale and stacked it in the waiting pickup beside the first. “I hope you are starting to get a clue.”

  “Maybe you’re simply showing me what you want me to see.” Heaven knew she’d fallen for that before. She scooped up another bale and tossed it. “There’s a whole lot I don’t know about you.”

  “Let’s fix that.” He stacked the bales neat and tight, just the way they should be.

  Fine, maybe his story was true. But that didn’t mean she had to be foolish. Her defenses might be down, but she had her heart to protect.

  “Ask me anything and I’ll tell you the truth.” He caught another bale and stacked it, fast and efficient. He was ready when she tossed him another one. “Any question.”

  “I get the burnout factor. That’s why you left your last job.” She was getting warm, so she unzipped her jacket and got back to work. “Why did you take a position with our town?”

  “The pay was right, I liked the idea of a slow-paced, forty-hour-a-week job, which I’m still holding out hope for. And when I drove here I saw more horses grazing along the way than at the other two towns I interviewed with.” He didn’t break a sweat as he kept stacking. “I didn’t come here to escape burnout as much as I came to find dreams I’d lost along the way. Maybe discover new ones.”

  She felt the brush of his gaze to her cheek and she flushed. “Really, do you think I’m going to fall for your cheesy lines?”

  “Worth a try.”

  She could fall for his grin, too. If there was one man on the planet who could make her want to risk trusting again, it would be Ford Sherman with his strapping good looks, work ethic and catching smile. She was accumulating quite a list of his features she adored. Didn’t that spell doom?

  “Guess I need to try harder,” he quipped, standing on the tailgate to stack the last row of bales. “Quick, I need to think of some cheesier lines.”

  “Yes, that is so going to work.” Don’t laugh at him. It would only encourage him.

  “I’m not as suave as you think.” He slid the last bale into place and hopped to the ground. “I have to work really hard to come up with those lines.”

  “Pathetic.” She accepted his hand to help her down. Not that she needed it, but she didn’t want to be rude and refuse him. If a warm ribbon of respect curled through her at the contact, then she could ignor
e that right along with everything else she was feeling. “At least I’m starting to understand the long string of rejections your brother mentioned.”

  “We’re not back to that again, are we? Quick, let’s change the subject.” He whisked open the truck door for her.

  “Not a chance. You know all about my heartbreak. Now it’s your turn.” She lifted her chin in a challenge. “It’s only fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair.”

  “No, but I had hoped you were tougher than that.” She leaned against the truck. “How about just one rejection?”

  “You’re enjoying this. I can tell by your sparkling eyes.” He planted his hand on the truck beside her. She wasn’t ready for him to move in, but he wanted to. “Those big hazel eyes make a man want to fall and keep falling.”

  “I thought you were done with the cheesy lines.”

  “It’s a habit at this point. I don’t know if I should apologize or keep going. Maybe one of them will eventually work on you.” He hid behind humor so she wouldn’t guess how badly he wanted her to trust him. “I’m not going to give up.”

  “I’m thinking of hobbling you and leaving you in one of the calf pens,” she joked.

  Did she feel this, too? A terror that ripped through with the speed and power of a tornado? She’d been hurt. Was that the only reason she was fighting him so hard?

  “Do you think this is easy for me?” His gloved fingertips brushed the side of her cheek.

  “You look as if everything is easy for you.” She didn’t move away from his touch. “You urban dudes have more ego than I’ve seen in ten country boys combined.”

  “Is that right?” Funny that she thought so. “It’s not ego. Just fascination with you.”

  “Fascination. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” She probably thought she’d hidden the flash of pain in her eyes, but she didn’t. “Everything is new here. You’ve said how much you love all things Western. How much of what you feel is the thrill of seeing ranch life firsthand instead of in a book? How much of your enthusiasm toward me is a part of that?”

 

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