With a goodbye nod, he put a foot in the stirrup and swung himself into the saddle. She shot him a wary look and headed for her car.
He watched her go, holding the gray gelding steady as the horse tossed his head, eager to be on his way. The car was down the drive when he turned the horse and headed for home. The rain had blown over but the air was damp and cool. It felt good, to let Bud loose. The horse was itching to run. So was Jake. But he knew he couldn’t outrun the problem that was driving to his place in a compact car with Oklahoma tags.
Fifteen minutes later, with his horse unsaddled and back in the pasture, he headed for the house. Breezy was standing on the front porch of the stone-and-log home he’d been living in alone for more years than he cared to count. He’d be thirty-four soon. He guessed that made him a crusty bachelor.
“Pretty place,” Breezy said when he reached the front porch of the house.
“Thank you.”
He nodded toward the door. Time to get it over with. He figured she’d be here another ten minutes, and then she’d be gone and he wouldn’t have to worry about her. He’d hand her a check and they’d go their separate ways.
Today he’d said a few prayers on the matter and maybe it was wrong, but he’d prayed she’d take the out. Of course he knew God didn’t exactly answer prayers based on Jake Martin’s wants. But he’d sure be grateful if the good Lord made this easy on him.
“Let’s go inside.” He led her across the porch with the bentwood furniture. Ceiling fans hung from the porch ceiling and in the summer they made evenings almost bearable. Not that he spent a lot of time sitting out there.
“Do you live here alone?” she asked, turning a bright shade of pink. “I mean, do you have family here? In Martin’s Crossing?”
“This is my home and I do have family in Martin’s Crossing.” He didn’t plan on giving her the family history.
What would he tell her? That he and his twin sister had helped raise their younger siblings after their mom had left town, left their dad and them? This ranch had been in their family for over one hundred years and keeping it going had put his dad in an early grave. Now he’d lost his sister, and he was determined to find a way to keep the family together, keep them strong, without her.
But no, he wasn’t alone. He had his brothers, Duke and Brody. They had their little sister, Sam. Short for Samantha.
Duke lived in the old family homestead just down the road.
Their little brother, Brody, only came around when he needed a place to heal up after a bad ride on the back of a bull. The rest of the time he stayed with friends in a rented trailer in Stephenville.
Sam had been in boarding school and was now in college. Out of state. That was his idea, after she couldn’t seem to keep her mind off a certain ranch hand. Their dad, Gabe Martin, hadn’t seemed to connect with the thought that his family was falling apart. It had all been on Jake.
The house was dark and cool. He led Breezy through the living room and down the hall to his office.
He flipped the switch, bathing the room in light, and motioned for her to take a seat. He positioned himself behind the massive oak fixture and pulled out a drawer to retrieve papers.
Breezy took the seat on the other side of the desk. With a hand that trembled, she pushed long blond hair back from her face. Lawton had mentioned she sang and played guitar. Something about being a street performer in California. Jake had taken it upon himself to learn more.
“Why didn’t you come back here with Lawton?” Jake asked, pinning her with a look that always made Samantha squirm. He didn’t have kids of his own, probably never would, but he knew all the tricks.
She looked away, her attention on the fireplace.
“Miss Hernandez?”
“Call me Breezy,” she whispered as she refocused, visibly pulling herself together. “I needed time to come to terms with what he’d told me. I didn’t know how to suddenly be the sister he thought I would be. Or could be. And I have a sister in Oklahoma.”
“I understand.” It had come out of nowhere, this new family of hers. “Lawton’s dad kept his skeletons hidden pretty deeply. But as he got older—” he shrugged “—guilt caught up with him.”
“I see.” She bit down on her bottom lip. “I could have been a part of their lives.”
His heart shifted a little. And sympathy was the last thing he wanted to feel.
“Yes, I guess.”
“And Lawton’s wife. She looked very sweet.”
That’s when his own pain slammed him hard. He cleared his throat, cleared the lump of emotion that settled there. He hadn’t yet gotten used to the loss. “Elizabeth was my twin sister.”
She bit down on her bottom lip and closed her eyes, just briefly. “I’m so sorry.”
“So am I.”
“So why am I here?”
“Because Lawton came home from Oklahoma and changed his will.” He brushed a hand over his face, then he reached for the manila envelope on his desk. “He left you his house, money from his dad’s estate, as well as a small percentage of his software and technologies company. He left the twins a larger percentage as well as a trust fund. The business manager, Tyler Randall, also inherited a small percentage of the company.”
“I see.” But she clearly didn’t understand. He was about to make it clear. And he prayed she’d take the out.
“Breezy, Lawton and Elizabeth left us joint custody of their daughters.”
He and this woman were now parents to two little girls.
Copyright © 2014 by Brenda Minton
ISBN-13: 9781460344118
Her Montana Christmas
Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Special thanks and acknowledgment to Arlene James for her contribution to the Big Sky Centennial miniseries.
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
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A Family for Christmas
Raised on the run, free-spirited Breezy Hernandez has never stayed in one place too long. But now that she has joint custody of her late brother’s twin daughters, she’s determined to give them a stable home. Even if it means cooperating with the twins’ bossy uncle. Texas rancher Jake Martin learned the hard way that women can’t be trusted. But as he and Breezy care for the orphaned girls, Jake begins to open his heart. Is Breezy ready to put down roots in Martin’s Crossing, or will she run from the one thing she’s always wanted: a family?
Martin’s Crossing: In this small Texas town, every heart finds a home
When was the last time anyone had looked out for Breezy?
“Are you okay?”
He kneeled next to her, bending those long legs and folding his arms over his knees. He pushed back the black cowboy hat and peered at her. He looked concerned.
She took a breath and waited.
“Of course I am.” Breezy made sure to smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Jake grinned. “Well, you were almost toast out there
with that bull.”
“I am glad you came along when you did.”
“Me, too,” he replied. His voice was soft, like wind through the trees, and it undid her a tiny bit. “Here, you’re probably cold.” He slipped off his jacket and eased it around her shoulders. “This should help.”
Words failed her. Yes, the jacket helped.
Or did it?
It smelled of Jake Martin, like pine, mountains in the fall and cold winter air. She wanted to bury her nose in the collar and inhale his scent. At the same time she wanted to tell him she didn’t need his jacket or the unexpected emotions it stirred in her.
Books by Brenda Minton
Love Inspired
Trusting Him
His Little Cowgirl
A Cowboy’s Heart
The Cowboy Next Door
Rekindled Hearts
Blessings of the Season
“The Christmas Letter”
Jenna’s Cowboy Hero
The Cowboy’s Courtship
The Cowboy’s Sweetheart
Thanksgiving Groom
The Cowboy’s Family
The Cowboy’s Homecoming
Christmas Gifts
*“Her Christmas Cowboy”
*The Cowboy’s Holiday
Blessing
*The Bull Rider’s Baby
*The Rancher’s Secret Wife
*The Cowboy’s Healing Ways
*The Cowboy Lawman
The Boss’s Bride
*The Cowboy’s Christmas
Courtship
*The Cowboy’s Reunited
Family
*Single Dad Cowboy
His Montana Bride
†A Rancher for Christmas
*Cooper Creek
†Martin’s Crossing
BRENDA MINTON
started creating stories to entertain herself during hour-long rides on the school bus. In high school she wrote romance novels to entertain her friends. The dream grew and so did her aspirations to become an author. She started with notebooks, handwritten manuscripts and characters who refused to go away until their stories were told. Eventually she put away the pen and paper and got down to business with the computer. The journey took a few years, with some encouragement and rejection along the way—as well as a lot of stubbornness on her part. In 2006 her dream to write for Love Inspired Books came true. Brenda lives in the rural Ozarks with her husband, three kids and an abundance of cats and dogs. She enjoys a chaotic life that she wouldn’t trade for anything—except, on occasion, a beach house in Texas. You can stop by and visit at her website, www.brendaminton.net.
A RANCHER FOR CHRISTMAS
Brenda Minton
Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.
— Philippians 4:11
Dedicated to my sweet ladies at the residential care facility. Your prayers, hugs and love have meant so much to me. Lola, this one is for you.
And to friends who are always just a phone call away. Pam, Lori, Tracie, Steph and Shirlee.
Melissa Endlich, as always, thank you!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Questions for Discussion
Excerpt
Chapter One
Breezy Hernandez stood in front of the massive wood door on the front porch of her brother’s Texas Hill Country home. When she’d met Lawton Brooks two months ago, he had filled in the missing pieces of her life.
Now he was gone. In one tragic accident Lawton, his wife and his mother had been taken. The lawyer in Austin had given her this address. He’d told her in Martin’s Crossing she would find Jake Martin, executor of the estate.
She knocked on the door and then looked out at the windblown fields dotted with small trees, waiting for someone to answer. No one did. There was no muffled call for her to come in, or footsteps hurrying to answer the door. She leaned her forehead against the rough wood, her hand dropping to her side. Her heart ached.
After a few minutes she wiped away the dampness on her cheeks and reached for the handle. It wasn’t locked. She pushed the door open, hesitating briefly before stepping inside. Why should she hesitate? Nothing would change the reality that Lawton and his wife had been killed in a plane crash two weeks ago. She’d missed the opportunity to see him again. She’d missed the funeral and the chance to say goodbye.
But she could be there for his girls.
As she stepped inside she flipped a switch, flooding the stone-tiled foyer in soft amber light. The entryway led to a massive living room with stone flooring, textured walls in earthy tan and a stone fireplace flanked by brown leather furniture.
Enveloped by silence and the cool, unheated air, she stood in the center of the room. There were signs of life, as if the people who had lived here had just stepped out. There were magazines on the coffee table, a pair of slippers next to a chair. Toys spilled from a basket pushed against the wall. Her throat tightened, aching deep down the way grief does.
“It isn’t fair,” she said out loud, the words sounding hollow in the empty space.
She should have come to Texas sooner but she’d needed time to come to terms with what Lawton had told her. His father, Senator Howard Brooks, had an affair with her mother, Anna, a drug addict from Oklahoma City. Breezy was the result of that brief relationship. She’d known for years that she wasn’t the true granddaughter of Maria Hernandez, the woman who had taken her in years ago. Maria had given her that information shortly before she passed away.
Now she knew who she was. But what good did that do her?
She left the living room and walked to the kitchen. The room was large and open, with white cabinets and black granite countertops. She moved from that room, with sippy cups in a drainer next to the sink, to the dining room.
A table with four chairs and two high chairs dominated the room. On the opposite wall were family portraits. She stopped at the picture of an older man in a suit, a flag of Texas behind him. Her father, Senator Howard Brooks.
In the next picture his wife of over forty years stood next to him. They looked happy. Evelyn Brooks hadn’t known about her husband’s brief affair or his daughter. He’d confessed the secret on his deathbed one year ago.
Breezy drew in a breath and fought the sting of tears. She’d never been one to cry over spilled milk. Not even if that meant she might have had a real family.
This was different, though. This was a family lost. Her family. She had a habit of losing family. It had started more than twenty years ago, after her mother’s death, when she and her siblings were all separated. Mia was adopted by the Coopers and Juan went to his father’s family. Breezy had been taken in the night by Maria because she had worried they would eventually learn the truth, that Maria’s son wasn’t really Breezy’s father.
Out of fear, Maria had kept them moving from town to town, living in cars, shelters and sometimes pay-by-the-month hotels.
Breezy brushed off the memory. It was old news.
A wedding photo hung on the wall. She studied the image of her brother and his pretty bride, both wearing identical looks of joy. At the last picture her heart stilled. Lawton, his wife, their two baby girls.
Just then, a sound edged in, a door closing. Footsteps, heavy and booted, echoed i
n the empty house. She held her breath, waiting.
“Who are you?” The deep male voice sent a shiver of apprehension up her spine.
Breezy turned, not quite trembling in her shoes, but nearly. The man filled the doorway. His tall, lean frame in jeans and a dark blue shirt held her attention, and then her eyes connected with pale blue eyes in a suntanned face. His dark hair was short but messy, like he’d just taken off a hat. She let her gaze drop, almost expecting a holster, Old West style, slung low on his hips.
Of course there wasn’t one.
“I’m Breezy. Breezy Hernandez.” Chin up, she swallowed a lump of what might have been fear.
His eyes narrowed and he frowned. “The missing sister.”
She wanted to argue she hadn’t been missing. She hadn’t known she was lost. She’d needed time to process that she had this brother. She’d needed time alone to figure out what it meant to find out who her father was. The ache in her heart erupted again. She’d been on the run for most of her life; it had become second nature to take off when things got a little dicey. Maria Hernandez had taught her that.
“So we know who I am. Who are you?” She managed to not shake as she asked the question, meeting his somewhat intimidating gaze.
“Jake Martin.”
“Of Martin’s Crossing.” The town in the middle of nowhere that she’d driven through to get here.
“Yes, Martin’s Crossing.”
“The girls?” She glanced back over her shoulder and saw that he was moving toward her.
“They’re safe.” He stepped close, smelling of the outdoors, fresh country air and soap. “I got a call from Brock, the attorney in Austin. He said he told you to come here and talk to me.”
“Yes, he told me about Lawton and asked me to find you.” She shook her head. “I missed the funeral, I’m sorry.”
She didn’t give him explanations.
She guessed the Goliath standing in front of her wouldn’t want to hear explanations. He wouldn’t want to know how much it hurt to know that all these years she’d had another brother. And now he was gone.
Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Rancher for ChristmasHer Montana ChristmasAn Amish Christmas JourneyYuletide Baby Page 21