His Holiday Bride

by Jillian Hart

  Then you haven’t seen me, he’d said in a tone that sounded sadder every time she remembered it.

  “Autumn?” A faraway voice penetrated her thoughts. “Yoo-hoo. Earth to Autumn.”

  Addison! She shook her head, wondering where her common sense had run off to. “I’m sorry. Would you say that again?”

  “Not until you tell me how things are going with Ford. Pretty well, considering you’ve hardly heard anything I’ve said. You’re totally into him, aren’t you? You’re falling for him.”

  “I do not fall.” That’s why she was good at her work. She knew how to keep her saddle, but if she was thrown, she knew how to tuck and roll. A girl always had to be prepared. And in the case of Ford Sherman, caution was the better part of valor.

  A beep in her ear startled her. Another call. Panic licked through her. “Addy, I have to go.”

  “If it’s Dad, you call me. You tell me what he says!”

  She clicked off and the incoming call rang. “Dad?”

  “No, it’s just me.” Cheyenne. “Have you heard anything?”

  “Not since Dad called after he landed.” Aggie turned toward the line shack, taking the last section of fence slow because of the shadows. The horse understood the work better than Autumn did sometimes. She flashed her light, and the beam illuminated perfect barbed wire strung up without a break.

  “I’m worried sick. There’s a flight leaving in the morning. I could be in Nevada by noon. Maybe there’s something I can do.” Worry made her words thin and wobbly, but there was exhaustion, too. Cheyenne put in long, hard days. Any long break from her schooling could put her back.

  “Do what Dad says and stay in school. We’ll pray there isn’t a single reason why you need to miss your classes.” Pray. It was about all she’d been doing this evening aside from poring through her Bible. Those familiar and treasured words had calmed her as the night progressed and there had been no reassuring call from Dad. As much as she wanted to be with him, she was glad she was here to run the ranch. At least that was one thing her father wouldn’t have to worry about.

  “Tucker is still in surgery. It can’t be good. There was internal bleeding, and all I can think—”

  “Don’t think. Just pray.” Aggie nickered to get her attention. The horse seemed to be staring intently at something up ahead in the dark. Autumn swung her flashlight across the sleeping herd of cattle to the inky shadows on the other side of the open-air shelter. Nothing. She flicked off the beam and let her eyes adjust to the night. “I’ve got to go, Cheyenne. Do yourself a favor and get some sleep. Dad will call when Tucker’s out of surgery safe and sound. You’ll see.”

  “Positive thinking. Gotcha.” Cheyenne clicked off, leaving Autumn alone again.

  Normally she might unsnap her saddle holster and draw out the Winchester, just in case. This time it was a hazard of another kind approaching. She turned Aggie toward the trail. Flurries brushed against her cheeks and eyelashes as she gazed through the night. Far down below shone the faint glow of the porch light. A man’s silhouette crossed in front of it.

  “Ford, you’re early for your shift.” Her words echoed in the silence. All of nature was asleep. “It’s only about midnight.”

  “I know we agreed on two o’clock, but I wanted to see you.” He rode into sight as if part of the shadows, powerful even in the dark. He’d willingly given up a good night of sleep in a warm house to watch over her cattle. It wasn’t because he was the sheriff, because Dad had asked him to help or because he thought there would be something to gain.

  No, Ford was simply being honest, which he’d been all along. He’d meant those things he’d said to her. He did have an intrepid heart. He didn’t let a little thing like below-freezing temperatures or his own comfort stop him from showing how much he cared for her.

  “Have you heard from Frank?” He reined Lightning to a stop outside the small cabin and swung down.

  “Not yet.” She dismounted, too. “Starting to really worry.”

  “It will be okay. Have faith. Hebrews 11:1.” He patted Lightning’s side affectionately. “It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen,” she quoted. “Mine, too.”

  The few feet separating them felt like a mile. Part of her wanted nothing more than to lay her cheek against his chest. To listen to the reliable thump of his heartbeat, close her eyes against his granite strength and simply be. To lay down her loneliness, the independence she used like a shield to protect herself and accept his love.

  But she could not. “I appreciate that you’re here. You could be sound asleep, snug and warm right now.”

  “Instead of freezing my fingers off. Let’s get the horses sheltered.” He took Lightning’s bridle bits. “Around back?”

  Her phone rang again. She tugged it from her pocket. A gasp escaped her when she saw her dad’s number.

  “I’ll take care of Aggie.” Ford snared the reins from her and disappeared into the darkness, leading both horses with him.

  Her hand shook so badly she couldn’t hit the right button. After the second try, the call connected. “Dad?”

  “Tucker made it through surgery. He’s in recovery now.” Dad blew out a pent-up breath. “I got to see him for two seconds. He’s unconscious and pinned and stitched up, but he’s alive. They plan to move him to ICU in a bit.”

  Thank you, Lord. Gratitude filled her until her eyes smarted. “Have you told the others?”

  “I’ll get to it now. Just wanted you to know first. Did Ford make it there tonight?”

  “We’re up at the southeast line shack.” Tucker was okay. That’s what mattered. The shock and tension gone, suddenly she was too cold. She shivered. Her teeth chattered. Overwhelmed, she blinked hard until her eyes were dry.

  “…he’s a good man,” her dad was saying. “I feel better that you’re not alone.”

  “Don’t you start matchmaking,” she warned him. “Me and Ford are not meant to be.” She held out her free hand to the wonderful heat. It began to chase away the chills and the numbness. “He’s not the one for me. He never will be. Got it? Nothing is ever going to change my mind.”

  The door creaked, the only sign she wasn’t alone. She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see a shadow disappear into the dark. She could feel the sting of his hurt in the icy air. Ford had overheard words not meant for him.

  “I gotta go, Dad. Call Cheyenne and then get some sleep.”

  “Will do.”

  The call disconnected, the fire popped and snapped greedily and she didn’t know what to do. Did she go after him? Did she apologize or try to explain? She grabbed the doorknob, unaware she’d crossed the small one-room cabin until the cold air chased away the fire’s heat from the front of her clothes.

  Maybe this was for the best. Ford would finally stop trying to ask her out on a date. He would stop torturing her with those impossibly dreamy kisses. He would give up on her, just the way he would do eventually anyway when his interest faded or when he realized she would always want to work alongside her dad and brother, that she always was going to train horses and raise cattle and she wasn’t going to give up what she loved just to be loved.

  Not even for a great man like Ford.

  Boots crunched in the snow outside, startling her. Wasn’t she alone? She expected to hear the steeled strike of horse hooves as he rode Lightning down the hill. But Ford towered in front of her, a great hulking bear in his parka and winter gear. She stumbled aside, not believing her eyes.

  “I made a promise to help, and I’m keeping it.” He brushed by her as cold as the night. He set a packed saddlebag on the wooden chair by the fire. “You may as well get on home. Consider yourself officially relieved for the night.”

  “But I—” Apology tangled in her words.

  “It doesn’t matter.” He cut her off and held his hands out to the fire. “It’s not like you tried telling me. It’s okay, Autumn.”


  “I just feel so—”

  “Don’t.” That would only make it worse. He kept his back to her so she couldn’t see the truth. “I’m a big boy. I can handle rejection. You’ve had a rough day, so go get some rest.”

  Silence settled in between them as she hesitated, probably debating whether to argue or to leave. The shuffle of her boots on the floorboards marked her decision.

  “Thanks for staying, Ford.”

  “Sure. No problem.” His heart was breaking, but he was just fine otherwise. He listened to her boots striking the floor and the squeak of the door as she closed it behind her. He waited a few breaths before following her.

  She’d disappeared from sight but not from his affections. Those remained, cracked and bruised. Since he was alone he hung his head and fought the pain he wanted no one to see.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Good afternoon,” sang the cheerful hospital volunteer as she sailed through the open door to the private room.

  Frank looked up from his book, amused at the way his son managed to show enough signs of life to toss a smile to the young lady. Three days in intensive care and now one day out and the boy was able to turn on the charm. That had to be a good sign if there ever was one. Frank was grateful for it after sitting through sleepless nights at his side, praying for his beautiful little son.

  “Hi, Tucker, you have even more flowers today.” She carried in two bouquets. “You must be well liked.”

  “They’re pity flowers, mostly. Folks feel sorry for me, likely as not.” As weak as he was, Tucker managed to get one dimple to show.

  Frank shook his head, set down his book and got off his duff to help the poor girl. He sure hoped she wasn’t buying it, but she turned rosy and giggled. He took a look at the arrangements on the cart in the hall, spotted his son’s name on a couple of cards and grabbed them. Balloons bumped and floated behind him as he hauled it all into the room.

  “And there’s one for you, too, Mr. Granger.” The girl sailed away from Tucker’s bedside. “Did you see it?”

  “Can’t think of anyone who’d send me anything.” The words were out before he realized that wasn’t true. Sandi and Arlene came to mind. Dread filled him as he plopped Tucker’s arrangements on the windowsill. Available space on the remaining surfaces was going fast.

  “See? It’s for you.” The cheerful gal thrust a vase at him and swept away. “See you later, Tucker. You feel better.”

  “I’ll do my best, Brittany.” Tucker managed to get both dimples working in fine order.

  That boy. Frank settled the collection of white and yellow rosebuds on the edge of the sill and plucked the card from the plastic holder. The TV blared to life, buttons clicked as Tucker worked the remote, and Frank squinted at the writing on the note because he refused to admit he needed glasses.

  Frank, I’m sending prayers for your beautiful boy. May God watch over you both. And it was signed simply, Cady.

  The starch went out of his knees. Air whooshed out of him until he couldn’t remember how to breathe. He blinked. How about that. He would never have guessed in a million years a big city girl like Cady Winslow could understand. She’d spent her life building an impressive legal career, according to what he’d overheard, and she had never married or had children of her own. Yet she knew what his son was to him, a precious child he loved so fiercely and truly he could still see the little boy in the grown man. That he would have rather been on the floor of the arena in his son’s place.

  Maybe Cady wasn’t as different from him as he’d figured. She might not be as disinterested as he thought. A lick of joy blew through him.

  “What you do have there, Frank?” He hadn’t heard the crisp tap, tap of heels on the tile behind him, but he heard it now as his sister-in-law barreled into the room.

  “Nothing I mean to share.” He pocketed the card.

  “Dad got flowers from a lady, and I bet I know who.” Tucker might look as pale as could be and bruised and battered, but his heart was still beating. “I think he deserves his privacy, don’t you, Aunt Carol?”

  “I most certainly do not. Who would send Frank flowers? Ooh, that’s going to torture me, but I’ll get to the truth of it, just you wait and see.” She cast a merry smile as she plunked a cup of steaming tea on Tucker’s bedside table. “There. Anything else I can do for you?”

  Frank’s cell rang, so he grabbed it. Looked like Addison calling in to report on how her last final exam went. That meant she was ready to leave for the airport and fly home. Home. Gratitude filled him. They would be together—the whole family—for Christmas. He felt optimistic as he hit the button and greeted his littlest daughter. Yep, life was mighty good. He had God to thank for that.

  “Now it’s starting to feel Christmassy!” Addison announced as they drove into town. Dark had fallen and the main street sparkled with silver stars, golden ornament balls and striped candy canes hanging from the streetlight poles. Garlands adorned shop windows and wreaths hung on doors closed for the night. “I love this time of year. Everything is so festive.”

  “You’re in a particularly good mood.” Autumn slowed to the required twenty-five miles an hour at the library and crept past the church. She doubted Ford was out with his radar, but no way did she want to get pulled over. He’d been avoiding her ever since he’d accepted the truth, but having to face him up close was one humiliation she wanted to avoid.

  She steeled her emotions, gripped the steering wheel more tightly and kept a sharp eye on the road.

  “I’m just glad my finals are over and I aced them. Yes!” Addy punched the air with one first. “I’m free to do whatever I want. And don’t say it. I know you want to put me to work in the barns, and that’s okay. But remember I’ve had a really tough time with all my studying, homework, papers and tests. I deserve a few days off. Do you think Mrs. Gunderson knows how to make fudge?”

  “If she doesn’t, I’m sure she can find a recipe and wing it.” This end of town was as quiet as could be, but up ahead lights flashed and blinked and a long line of parked cars hugged the curb.

  “Ooh, what’s up at the fire hall?” Addy strained against her seat belt to get a better look. “It’s not the church bazaar, is it?”

  “Probably,” she said vaguely. Was that Ford’s Jeep? She peered over her steering wheel, realizing it was.

  Ford. A terrible tangle of emotions clutched her and refused to let go. She wasn’t in love with him, so why was she feeling horrible because she’d hurt him and terribly empty because she missed him?

  “Stop! Please? I want to get a bag of candy from Santa.” Addy pointed to a parking space along the sidewalk. “It will only take a minute.”

  “You’re too old for Santa.”

  “But I’m not too old for candy.” Addy used her Bambi-eyed look.

  Impossible to say no. Autumn found herself steering to the curb and cozying into a parking spot right behind the sheriff’s rig. Of course. Pain slammed into her, and she did her best to ignore it, just as she’d been doing for days. She shut off the engine and pocketed the keys, staring at the string of Christmas lights twinkling over the open bays of the station. Ford would be inside. How was she going to handle it?

  Like she’d been doing the last handful of nights. Keep her distance. She’d pretended she hadn’t seen him riding the fence line in the dark, waiting as long as it took for her to abandon her post at the line shack, saddle up and ride Aggie home. Distance was the key to keeping the pain away. She could survive this as long as she kept the length of the room between them.

  Any help You want to give, I would appreciate, Lord. She grabbed her purse and hopped onto the sidewalk. Christmas music met her ears and the low roar of conversations led the way into the brightly lit fire hall. Since the town had yet to raise money for a second truck, there was an empty bay, and it was filled with tables and tables of homemade items, all to raise money for the church’s giving tree.

  Doris spotted them first amid the throng and waved both hands a
s if she were trying to scare off a herd of elk. “Girls! I’m so glad you could make it. I feared the worst when I didn’t see hide nor hair of you. How’s Tucker doing today?”

  “Fine, considering.” Autumn noticed how her sister gave Doris a hug and kept on going straight to the tables full of pretty homemade things to buy. “Dad called a while ago. Sounded as if Tucker is already back to his normal self. Half the nursing staff is in love with him.”

  “What are you girls going to do about Christmas?” It was Martha’s turn to amble up.

  “Tucker is supposed to be released in a few days. Dad and Aunt Carol are driving him home.” She couldn’t wait to see for herself that her brother would be fine. She couldn’t wait for Dad to get back. She missed his steady, easygoing company. “I’d better go keep an eye on Addy. Look, she’s already getting into trouble.”

  “Autumn, do you have any money?” Addison held up a quilted book cover. “I love this. I have to get it, and I’m broke.”

  “You know what Dad says. If you can’t afford it, then you don’t need it.” She didn’t want Addy to think she was a pushover.

  “But I need it. I really do. Okay, that’s not true. I need two.”

  “Here’s twenty.” She pulled two tens out of her purse. “That’s all you’re getting.”

  “Thanks, Autumn. You wouldn’t happen to have another ten?”

  Fine, so she was a pushover. She handed over a third bill, left Addy happily shopping and did a fast scan of the area. She saw a crowd of women debating over items on the tables and a queue where Arlene Miller was taking money, but no sign of Ford. That was a major relief. He was probably in the back room giving out candy along with the mayor, who dressed up as Santa every year. Good. That meant it shouldn’t be hard to avoid any run-ins with the sheriff. She would stay out here and he could stay in there. She could continue denying the truth.