The Billionaire Rancher's Christmas Wife: A Modern Day Small Town Romance (Evergreen's Mail-Order Brides Book 2)

by Marian Tee

  In hindsight, she knew now that she should have seen those as warning signs – as everyone around them had – but she had instead told herself it was only because Jonathan was a gentleman with old-fashioned ideas about love and relationships.

  When India started dropping by once too often at Jonathan, who by then had a corner office, and staying so long inside of it that people had started to talk, Isla had been genuinely appalled. India was a nineteen-year-old university student who needed tutoring from her sister’s boyfriend. That was all there was to it, she had told the other paralegals. But of course it wasn’t, and everything had come crashing down on her when she had gone inside India’s bedroom and found her nubile sister naked and moaning under an equally naked Jonathan.

  The months that had followed after that were a painful blur. All she could remember was how her hurt grew and grew and grew until she couldn’t breathe anymore without hurting. The moment she had stumbled upon the mail-order bride website by chance, she hadn’t let herself think.

  She had just wanted a way out – and Sean Northwood certainly turned out to be that…and so much more.

  Sean made every new day magical, and the presence of his friends was like icing on the top. They were all lovely to be with, and that included the two other members of SAFE she had met on her second night: Nicholas Sutherland, a classically handsome, mild-mannered cattle rancher, and Lyon Hardwall, a strikingly attractive oil baron with a darkly musical voice.

  Thanks to Charlotte’s outline, which Sean’s friends gamely followed as well, their group was not wanting for activities. In one morning, they had a private snowshoe tour that had them trekking for about an hour until they reached a mountain village made famous by its picturesque Christmas market. All the goods sold were either organic or handmade, and Sean, being the scoundrel he was, had kept adding to his basket before making Isla pay for everything.

  Following their shopping spree, the men had competed against each other in a snowmobile race while she and Hilary had happily spent a few hours ensconced in the library.

  On another day, the group had signed up for a private painting session, which had been quite the eye-opener for Isla. While she wasn’t exactly a stranger to the finer things in life, the activities that the likes of Sean and his friends could afford were of a different league.

  For their two-hour session, their group had been taken high up in the mountains where the hotel had set up an artist’s studio outdoors: one easel for each of them, with a wooden stool and a table filled with high-grade art materials.

  An up-and-coming landscape artist had also been booked to provide them lessons on how best to draw inspiration from the breathtaking alpine scenery while two butlers were also on hand to provide them food and drinks while painting.

  When Hilary noted uncertainly that there were only four seats available, the men had only smirked and after which Devon pulled his wife on his lap while Sean did the same with Isla.

  All in all, it had been the most lavishly surreal experience, albeit also quite embarrassing, with the way Sean had been aroused the entire time. All throughout painting, she had struggled to keep a steady hold of her brush while his cock kept rubbing and nudging against her crotch.

  By the time they had made it back to the hotel, she was in near tears, and Sean’s face had been a stoic mask. He hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye to his friends. He had simply yanked Isla to the nearest room with the private door (the cloak room in this case) and had proceeded to fuck her fast and hard until they both saw stars.

  After, Sean had ordered room service for dinner, determined to continue where they left off since he had not had enough of Isla. She was happy to comply for in truth, she felt the same. She was ridiculously insatiable for his touch, and he only had to look at her a certain way and she would be his, wherever and whenever.

  They had ended up locked in Sean’s suite for over twenty-hours after that, only resurfacing to rejoin his friends to partake of the hotel’s annual midnight party of freshly baked sugar cookies, cakes, and hot chocolate.

  The men had knowing looks on their faces when they arrived, and even Hilary had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. They had ribbed Sean and Isla endlessly for having a premature honeymoon, and while this kept Isla in a perpetually blushing state, Sean had only given them a smile that was the equivalent of strutting. He was the pure embodiment of sexual satisfaction, and the way he always wanted Isla glued to his side made it obvious to anyone who was responsible for his current state.

  They had enjoyed many other activities after that – bonfire dinners, a sleigh ride with the reindeers, and even a private evening at the hotel’s award-winning spa, which had been designed like a hidden paradise with quaint lanterns mounted on its stone walls and mini wooden bridges arching over steamy turquoise pools.

  Every second was unforgettable, but what made her treasure each experience was how Sean cherished her. After almost three decades of feeling alone and unimportant, it was heaven for Isla to have such a beautiful, enthralling man focus all of his attention on her.

  Now that word had spread about the SAFE’s presence, people of all walks of life had literally flocked to Mt. Aehrenthal, hoping to propose a business venture to the four billionaires or snag a date with any of them, regardless of their marital status. The way women constantly threw themselves at the four had initially shocked Isla. It hadn’t seemed to matter to them that Isla and Hilary stood right next to their men or that the latter had pointedly ignored them; they had still persisted in doing their best to catch the billionaire’s eye in any way possible.

  They gave Isla every reason to feel jealous and insecure, but in reality, Isla barely noticed any of them. How could she when Sean never even spared them a glance? Rather, it was Sean who displayed a surprisingly primitive streak of possessiveness whenever they were out in public, with the way he scowled at any man who so much as glanced her way.

  It was very sweet, but it was also terribly confusing, and at one point, following another wild and crazy bout of lovemaking, Isla had stirred in his arms to ask him why this was so. ‘I can’t help but think you’re pretending to act jealous because you pity me,’ she had told him. And she had seriously believed this, too – until Sean had laughed at her face.

  ‘You make me sound like some misguided knight in shining armor, but I’m not. I act jealous because I am jealous. I warned you before, Isla – I am possessive of what I consider mine, and you are that.’

  She had rubbed her eyes furiously at his words, hating how he could make her cry so easily. For someone like her, who had always felt alone and unwanted, his words were the best Christmas gift she could ever ask for. His words made her believe like she finally had a place in this world she belonged to, and Isla hoped and prayed it was so.

  On their last night in Aspen, their group had hiked back up to the mountains, having been told that there was a shooting star. When she opened her eyes, he had asked her with a smile, “What did you wish for?”

  She hadn’t been able to smile back at him, but her shining eyes was enough for him.

  I wish this would never end.

  But of course it wasn’t meant to be.

  When they went back to the hotel, the manager was waiting for them, a grave look on his face. “I’m afraid there’s been news from your ranch, Mr. Northwood. It’s your father, sir…”

  Chapter 11

  A large crowd of reporters waited respectfully outside the Darcy Medical Center, a concrete behemoth that was San Antonio’s biggest private hospital and where Samuel Northwood had been rushed after having a stroke.

  “You’ve always been impulsive, but this takes the cake, son.” Sean’s father’s voice was gruff, but the twinkle in his faded brown eyes took the sting out of his words. “Then again, I can’t blame you. She reminds me of your mother, you know? Her looks will stand the test of time, mark my words. And she’s got child-bearing hips---”

  Sean winced. “That’s not the way to talk about your futur
e daughter-in-law, Dad.”

  “Ha! If I had been a decade younger, I’d have tossed my name in the hat as well, and she’d choose me. I’d bet my farm on it.”

  Growing up, Sean had always been told that he took after his father, who had been known to be quite the charmer in his younger days. This fact had never been more obvious than that moment, with Samuel still able to crack a joke even with him lying on a hospital bed and countless tubes connected to his body.

  “You’re a die-hard womanizer, you know that?” Sean wanted to keep things light, but when his voice cracked in the end, he knew then it would be impossible. It had always been just the two of them, with his mother passing away when Sean was only three and too young to remember her. His father was everything to him, and the thought of losing his father had him paralyzed with fear.

  “You’ve always sworn off marriage.” Samuel’s voice was just a little fainter now, and when he closed his eyes, the lines of exhaustion on his face became even more noticeable. “What made you change your mind?”

  “I saw her, and it was like a bolt of lightning.” Privately, Sean thought he was being too damn mushy, but to his surprise his father actually fell for it, with the way a tender smile broke over the older man’s face.

  “It was the same for me and your mother,” Samuel murmured.

  “I know.” Sean’s tone was quiet.

  According to old folks in town, his father had been Evergreen’s biggest heartbreaker until a debutante from Houston tamed his wild ways and had Samuel settling down for marriage and a life of domesticity.

  “I’m happy for you, son. You had me worried a long time, but when I saw you and Isla together…”

  Samuel seemed to struggle to open his eyes, and Sean stiffened. “Dad---” He saw his father’s hand clenching and unclenching, and the moment he reached for Samuel’s hand, the other man’s fingers tightened around him in a hard grip.

  “Love at first sight,” Samuel whispered. “Wasn’t it?”

  Sean didn’t answer.

  There was no need.

  He knew without being told, he knew even before the emergency alarms rang full blast and doctors came rushing in, he already knew. His father was gone.

  He stood up, his movement stiff as he gave the doctors the space they needed to work on his father. He stepped out of the room, his gaze unseeing. Time lost meaning as numbness spread throughout his body. He had no idea how long he had stood there when Isla finally found him.

  “Sean?”

  He turned to face her, and her heart broke at the utter emptiness that grief had carved in his eyes.

  She ran to him and almost threw her arms around him, but she stopped herself in time. She saw his powerful body relax slightly, telling herself she had been right to respect his space. The thought hurt, but even so, she was glad she had done what he needed her to do.

  “I’m so sorry, Sean,” she whispered. “I wish there was more I could do…”

  He shook his head. “You did what you were supposed to do.”

  “But I only got to talk to him for a little while.”

  “And it was enough.” A ghost of a smile touched his handsome face, and she had to hug herself hard so she wouldn’t be tempted to hug him. He had always been larger than life in her eyes from the moment they met, but grief made him mortal, and it made her want to cry.

  “You made him happy, Isla.”

  She was glad – really glad – she had been able to do that, but at that moment, Isla knew that she would be glad to give up her soul if she could make Sean happy, too.

  “I had always thought that if I didn’t have it in me to keep him alive, then I’d do my damnedest to make sure he’d pass away without having to worry about me---” Sean’s voice went hoarse. “And you did that, Isla---” His voice cut off abruptly once more, and this time she could no longer help it.

  He might hate her later after this, but she no longer cared.

  He needed her, and she needed to be there for him.

  Isla threw herself at him and hugged him hard. “I’m sorry, Sean.”

  He wept in her arms.

  And she wept with him.

  The next three days were dark and haunted for Sean, and Isla stayed by his side every moment of it, determined to help him see it through by doing what he needed her to do and being what he needed her to be. She took care of his father’s funeral arrangements when it became clear that he would rather lose himself in work and taking care of the legal matters that revolved around Samuel’s estate.

  Isla knew that if it had been India in her shoes, her younger sister would only have to bat her eyelashes and people would trip over their feet in their haste to do her bidding. Beautiful women could get away with almost anything, and she had seen it happen countless times growing up. It was too bad that she wasn’t as dazzling as India, but she had long accepted this, and more importantly, Isla had also long learned how to make the best of what she had.

  Isla worked tirelessly in the background to ensure that Sean would have the time he needed to grieve in private; she assisted his office staff in booking the necessary suppliers and service providers and sent out handwritten thank-you cards to those who sent flowers and mass cards. She took the initiative to come up to the ranch and make herself available to his household: if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to let me know. The unspoken meaning behind her words was clear, and with Isla leading by example, the staff learned to take their cue from her and went out of their way to avoid causing Sean any kind of trouble.

  Their master had been always there for them; it was now their turn to return the favor.

  It was on the twelfth of December and a particularly cold Monday morning when Samuel Northwood was finally laid to rest. A mass was held, and people came up to the podium one by one to deliver their eulogies. Sean spoke, too, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember a single word he had uttered. Everything was a blur, and it was only after seeing his father’s casket disappear into the earth that the reality of his father’s death struck him.

  Samuel was gone.

  And when Sean looked around him, it felt as if he, too, had been dead the past few days, and he was seeing everything for the first time. There were bouquets of magnolias everywhere. Who had arranged for them, and had they done so knowing magnolias were his father’s favorite flowers?

  After the service, a coaster came to pick up the staff, and he wondered who had the foresight to arrange for their transportation. Their family’s private cemetery was a good distance away from the ranch, and not all of his staff had their own cars.

  Upon returning to his ranch, Sean was surprised to find that a catering service had taken over the main house. Cocktail tables had been set up and smartly dressed servers were going around offering arriving guests their choice of drinks and canapés.

  Who could have done this?

  He swung around clumsily and almost bumped into Devon. His friend took one look at his face and asked immediately, “What’s wrong?”

  Sean gestured to the well-organized scene around him. “Did you have a hand in this?”

  Devon was stunned at the question. “You don’t know?”

  He slowly shook his head. “The past few days have been a blur…”

  Devon’s mood turned somber at his friend’s explanation. “That’s understandable. We all know how close you and Uncle Samuel were.”

  A server then approached them, his tray laden with a respectable assortment of drinks, and both men immediately reached for the ice-cold cans of beer.

  As Sean took a long gulp of his beer, their other friends came to join them, their handsome faces grave.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, man,” Nicholas said quietly.

  “If you need us for anything,” Lyon offered seriously, “you just have to let us know.”

  “I appreciate the offer,” Sean answered, “but I think Devon’s already taken care of everything.”

  Nicholas and Lyon appeared startled. “Devon?”<
br />
  Sean managed a grin. “I had no idea he was good at taking care of stuff like this, but I’ll make sure to let Hilary know that Devon’s perfect wife material---”

  “It wasn’t me.”

  Devon’s tautly spoken words made Sean stiffen. “What do you mean it wasn’t you?”

  “It wasn’t me,” Devon repeated.

  “Then---” Sean started to ask who the fuck he needed to thank when the truth hit him, coming out of nowhere, and his chest contracted violently. He turned around, and this time his gaze unerringly found her.

  Isla.

  She was speaking to Harry at the opposite side of the room, tall, poised, and elegant in a black sheath dress, and with her red gold locks swept up to a loose chignon that exposed the creamy length of her neck. His housekeeper came up to them, and he watched Isla excuse herself to speak with the older woman. Rosita was a dear, but she had a tendency to get herself in a dither over the smallest of things. Isla, however, handled her beautifully, and he saw Rosita walk away a minute later like a huge weight had been taken off her shoulders.

  Behind him, Devon said quietly, “She’s been incredible the past few days, Sean. I hope you know that.”

  He didn’t speak. He could only watch her, and as if sensing his gaze, he watched her lift her head, and just as his did, her beautiful emerald eyes found his without trouble.

  Sean sucked in his breath.

  Fuck.

  She was gazing at him with her heart on her sleeve, her eyes soft, and his whole body clenched at the way she made it impossible for anyone to remain blind.

  Isla loved him.

  Someone else called for her attention again – his ranch manager this time – and it was only when Isla turned away that he was able to wrench his gaze off her as well. He dragged breath into his lungs, but it didn’t help.

  Isla loved him.

  He looked at his friends’ faces and saw that they had seen the same thing, too.