Her Holiday Rancher

by Cathy McDavid

  He carried the box of lights to the front courtyard, and deposited it next to the others. “That’s it, Mom.”

  She and Cara were bundled up from head to toe, as the weather had taken a turn. Colder, but not wetter. There was still no sign of rain. With their striped stocking caps, scarves and mittens, they resembled a pair of Christmas elves.

  Gabe wished he were like them and more in the spirit of the season. He was anything but jolly. His mood hadn’t gone unnoticed, and his mother was constantly trying to cheer him. Yesterday, she’d baked his favorite dessert. Double-layer chocolate cake. The day before, she’d made turkey soup with the Thanksgiving leftovers and mended his favorite shirt.

  He suspected her motives weren’t entirely selfless. She had her own troubles. She missed his father and worried about losing her home. Cooking and decorating kept her busy. This would be her first holiday in thirty years without August. Also, she missed her parents, who’d announced they wouldn’t be visiting until the spring. Make that, his abuelo had announced it during their last phone conversation. Gabe doubted his abuela had much say in the matter.

  “Can you help with this?” Cara asked. “I’m too short.”

  She was standing on a stepladder, attempting to hang a string of lights on the peaked eve above the front door.

  Gabe didn’t ask how she’d managed to hang the rest of the lights while he’d been going back and forth between the attic and the courtyard, carrying boxes.

  “Let me,” he pretended to grouse. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  Cara relinquished the stepladder. Gabe’s mother came over to supervise.

  “It’s drooping too much,” she commented when Gabe attached the lights.

  He grunted, but obligingly restrung the section of lights to hang evenly. For the next thirty minutes Gabe toiled, until his shoulders and back began to ache.

  Cara handed him a red bulb. “There are too many blue ones on that string.”

  “I have better things to do on a Saturday afternoon than take this abuse.” He thought of the hundred and one chores waiting for him. “The water troughs in the horse pastures need scrubbing.”

  “Everyone deserves a day of rest now and then,” his mother said.

  “Hanging Christmas lights isn’t a day of rest.”

  “The troughs can wait until tomorrow. Josh and Cole went into town. Sightseeing, they said.”

  What was to see in Mustang Valley? he mused. The small community had only a diner, a halfway-decent market, one gas station and a couple of bars—

  That was it. They were probably going to the Poco Dinero Saloon and Grill. Sightseeing his foot! As kind as Gabe’s mother had been to them, they should be the ones helping her string these stupid lights.

  “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.” His mother smiled up at him. “Roast beef for dinner.”

  She might be cooking day and night in an effort to keep herself busy, but Gabe was reaping the benefits.

  “Fine,” he grumbled and plugged in the next string of lights.

  They’d mostly finished when his mother called it quits. “That’s enough for today.”

  Good. Gabe was starving.

  She didn’t make him wait long, and a half hour later, the three of them sat at the kitchen table, eating dinner. The roast beef was delicious.

  “Mijo, do you have any plans tonight?”

  He was contemplating crashing early. Quite the life of a bachelor. Pretty pathetic, actually. His brothers were still out, whooping it up, he assumed. Well, more chocolate cake for him.

  “Nothing much.” Gabe shoveled another bite into his mouth.

  “Cara and I were thinking...”

  Uh-oh. He recognized that tone and readied himself to say no. Whatever his mother had in mind, he wouldn’t like it.

  “I’m kind of tired, Mom.”

  “The Holly Daze Festival started last night.” She sent Cara a conspiratorial look.

  “Your mom would like to go,” Cara said.

  “Okay. Go.” He’d get the TV to himself. Maybe watch the Phoenix Suns play and have a beer.

  “She wants you to take her.”

  Gabe looked up from his plate. “Why me?”

  “You should get out of the house,” his mom said.

  “I hate to disappoint you, Mom. But if I was inclined to get out of the house, it wouldn’t be to attend the Holly Daze Festival.”

  “They added a new arts and crafts display. I hear there’s a lot of great gifts for sale.”

  “I don’t know.” He did know—he’d rather stick sharp needles in his eyes than go to an arts and crafts display. “You can’t drive yourself?”

  “That truck is a pain.”

  Manual transmission. His mother had never mastered the technique. “What about Cara? Can’t you ride with her?”

  “I have to go early to help with the raffle booth.”

  He vaguely remembered her saying something about volunteering.

  “Please, mijo,” his mother implored.

  “I’ll drop you off. Call me when you’re ready to be picked up.”

  “Won’t you stay? The Powells will be there.”

  “They’re running the booth with me,” Cara said. “We’re selling raffling tickets for carriage rides. The proceeds go to the mustang sanctuary. You know how much we need the money.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Thank you.” His mother smiled as if he’d agreed.

  Gabe did like the Powells, one of the more prominent families in Mustang Valley. Unlike Theo McGraw, they weren’t in competition with Dos Estrellas. The Powells owned and operated a horse ranch and riding stable.

  They were also responsible for Cara’s mustang sanctuary. A few years ago, they’d captured Prince, the last wild mustang in the valley, and rehabilitated him. The stallion was now their prized stud horse and, between stud fees and selling his offspring, responsible for bringing Powell Ranch back from the edge of bankruptcy.

  Gabe’s family could use their own lucky discovery, like a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. But rain was required for a rainbow, and there didn’t seem to be any in sight.

  The Powells had taken in refugee mustangs after Prince, most of them coming from other parts of the state. Cara, friends with the Powell brothers’ wives, had helped. Cara was a talented horsewoman and had worked wonders with several incorrigible rebels in the past. Eventually, she brought a few mustangs to Dos Estrellas.

  After her son died, she brought more and more mustangs to Dos Estrellas. No one complained, understanding she needed an outlet for her grief. Eventually, she took over the entire sanctuary, which was then moved from Powell Ranch to Dos Estrellas. Cara kept the mustangs she couldn’t find good homes for. None were ever turned away.

  When Gabe and his mother arrived at the Holly Daze Festival, he got out of the truck rather than go home.

  The arts and crafts tables were on the north side of the square, which was illuminated from end to end with colorful lights. A fifteen-foot Christmas tree towered in the center, though it wasn’t yet decorated. That community tradition took place next weekend with people encouraged to bring their own ornaments.

  Gabe looked around. The Poco Dinero Saloon and Grill wasn’t a far walk, across the street and up a block. His brothers might still be there. If not, there’d likely be a buddy or two with whom he could waste the next couple of hours.

  There would also be members of the fairer sex. If Gabe was in the market, he could possibly coerce one of them into a dance.

  It was an idea that should appeal to him and used to greatly. Instead, his mind was centered on one particular woman. Reese.

  “Aren’t you going to buy a raffle ticket?” his mother asked. “There’s a drawing every hour.”

 
“Who would I take on the carriage ride if I won?”

  “You’re missing the point.” She steered him toward the booth where Cara and the Powells sat.

  “Don’t we already donate enough?”

  “Mijo.”

  “Fine. One ticket.”

  At the booth, Cara greeted them with a huge smile. He hadn’t seen her that enthused in a long while and wound up buying two tickets.

  “Thank you,” Caitlin Powell said brightly when he handed over his ten-dollar bill. She was married to Ethan, the middle Powell brother. “Good luck.”

  Gabe had half a mind to tear up the tickets or give them to the nearest person. But, distracted by an acquaintance, he jammed the tickets into his coat pocket.

  Five minutes later, he bid his acquaintance Merry Christmas and strolled in the direction of the saloon. A moment later, he came to an abrupt halt. There, not thirty feet in front of him, stood Reese.

  The sight of her wasn’t what glued his boots to the cement sidewalk. It was his brother Josh and the two of them conversing easily, as if they were old friends.

  No, more than friends. Gabe wasn’t born yesterday. He recognized the look of a man interested in a woman, and Josh had that look.

  Why should he care? Gabe had no claim on Reese. She could talk to whomever she wanted. Except the burning sensation in his gut propelled him forward until he was literally upon them.

  Startled, Reese turned wide eyes on him. “Gabe, what are you doing here?”

  The loudspeaker attached to a nearby post crackled to life.

  “Attention, attention. The winner of this hour’s drawing for the carriage ride is ticket number 23853, Gabe Dempsey. Gabe, will you and your party please report to the carriage station at the south end of the square.”

  He took Reese’s hand. “Come on.”

  “What!” She tried to pull away.

  “You’re my party. For the carriage ride.”

  “I happen to be talking to Josh, in case you didn’t notice.”

  He glared at his brother. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  Josh chuckled. “Not at all. Have fun, you two.”

  “Thanks.” Gabe dragged Reese down the sidewalk, ignoring her protests.

  * * *

  SHE SHOULD BE MAD. What right did Gabe have to tear her away from a perfectly cordial conversation with Josh to...what? A carriage ride? Of all the nerve! Could his me-Tarzan-you-Jane attitude be more annoying?

  She should be mad. Secretly, Reese was pleased. Kind of giddy. And flattered.

  “Can we go a little slower?” she pleaded.

  Gabe reduced his speed by a fraction.

  “What’s with you?”

  “We have to hurry.”

  “The carriage isn’t going anywhere.” Her words had no effect on him or how fast he walked. “Why, Gabe? Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

  That made him slow down, then stop. “Of Josh?”

  “He is the person I was talking to.”

  “No way.”

  “Then, care to explain this race we’re on?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Because?”

  “I’m not sure why.” He started walking again, a frown darkening his features. She should pull away, but she rather liked the sensation of his strong, warm fingers wrapped firmly around hers. In some ways, it was more intimate than when they’d kissed, though not as enjoyable.

  “Ask me.” She struggled to keep pace, hampered by her knee-high, spike-heeled boots.

  “Ask you what?”

  “To go with you on the carriage ride. I’d like to be invited. Not forced.”

  He let go of her hand, making her regret her words. The loss of intimacy was that keen. “And what will you answer?”

  “You won’t know unless you—”

  He caught her by the arms. People passed them on both sides. Reese barely noticed. She saw only Gabe. His eyes, seeming to take in every aspect of her face, and the five-o’clock shadow covering his jaw. It gave his appearance a dangerous and wildly sexy edge.

  “Would you like to go on the carriage ride with me?”

  For a guy who looked good enough to devour, the blandly delivered line was a letdown. Middle school kids selling candy for their fund-raisers had better pitches. She thought of telling him no. He deserved it after his ridiculous behavior.

  “I would,” she said. “Very much.”

  “Good,” he grunted and resumed dragging her along.

  At least he was holding her hand again.

  Ethan Powell waited by the horse-drawn carriage parked alongside the curb. With his cowboy hat, jeans, jacket and boots, he didn’t look much like a carriage driver, but the carriage itself was right out of a fairytale. Illumination from the streetlight added to the magical illusion.

  Reese caught her breath. “How pretty.”

  “I guess.”

  She rolled her eyes at Gabe’s remark, then returned her attention to the carriage, committing the lovely sight to memory. A snow-white lacquer exterior set off the red velvet upholstered seats. Large-spoked rear wheels contrasted the much smaller front ones. Brass lanterns attached to the sides glowed a soft golden yellow. Even the horses, a matching pair of blacks with shiny silver accent trim on their bridles, were perfect.

  “You’re the lucky winner?” Ethan Powell pushed off from where he leaned against the carriage and sent them an amused smile.

  “Gabe is. I’m his party.” Reese ran her hand along the side of the carriage’s gleaming exterior.

  She’d been raised around horses. Her father had taught her to ride by the time she was three. But, like many little girls, she’d dreamed of being a princess. This carriage ride was probably as close as she’d ever get to realizing that dream.

  “Thank you, Gabe.” She sighed wistfully.

  “Sure.”

  He didn’t understand. He was a man, after all. Besides, it wasn’t necessary. She’d enjoy every moment of the ride regardless.

  Ethan opened the small door built into the side of the carriage and extended his hand. “Climb aboard.”

  She placed her foot on the narrow step. Ethan held her elbow, helping her up. The carriage rocked gently as she settled into the far side of the seat. Her hand brushed the velvet upholstery. The carriage rocked harder as Gabe climbed in and plunked down beside her.

  He didn’t appear concerned with the upholstery or anything else about the carriage, including her. Rather, he stared off toward the festival.

  “You may need this.” Ethan handed them a thick, fluffy blanket. “It’s going to get cold.”

  He was right. Reese could well imagine the drop in temperature once they were moving. She took the blanket and spread it out across her and Gabe’s laps.

  “Cozy,” he said.

  His tone perplexed her. Was he being funny or serious? A glance at his profile offered no answers.

  “All set?” Ethan asked.

  Reese nodded, afraid if she spoke, she’d sound exactly like the excited little-girl-wannabe-princess coming to life inside her.

  The driver’s seat, situated in front, was considerably higher than where Reese and Gabe sat in the back. Ethan hauled himself up effortlessly—not an easy feat with a prosthetic leg. He’d lost his when he’d served in the Marines. He untied the reins from the brake handle, released the brake and clucked to the horses. The carriage lurched and they were off, the horses’ iron shoes clip-clopping loudly on the blacktop.

  Reese was instantly captivated. She’d seen the community of Mustang Valley thousands of times. She could probably travel the length of it blindfolded. But never had she seen it by carriage. The storefronts looked more charming, less stark and businesslike. The Christmas lights and tree in the center of town might hav
e come straight from Santa’s Village. The people, too, were different, smiling and waving gaily as they passed.

  As the minutes flew by, Reese’s heart soared higher and higher. Sitting with Gabe, snuggled beneath the blanket, increased her happiness. The ride couldn’t be more romantic, and she thought of asking him how he truly felt about her.

  “The hay was delivered the other day,” he said.

  Reese blinked. Really? A romantic carriage ride and he wanted to talk shop?

  “It looks good,” he added. “High quality. You were right to suggest purchasing it.”

  “I don’t want to discuss the hay,” she snapped, then bit her lip.

  “Okay.” Gabe resumed staring at the passing sights.

  She suppressed a groan. He was either being intentionally obtuse or didn’t get the hint. She decided to go out on a limb.

  “If you and I weren’t at odds—”

  “We’re not at odds.”

  “Weren’t in a work relationship, then.” She infused warmth into her voice. “This carriage ride might be going quite differently.”

  “How so?”

  “For starters, you’d be looking at me and not the big sale sign in front of Valley Auto Parts.”

  He turned to face her. “I thought you wanted to keep our relationship strictly professional.”

  “I do.” She should. “Just making small talk.”

  “So was I when I mentioned the hay.”

  Touché.

  Several more minutes passed in silence.

  At the next corner, Ethan pulled the horses to a stop and peered over his shoulder at Reese and Gabe. “You have a preference for which route we take?”

  “No.” Reese said.

  “Hickory Street,” Gabe countered.

  She blinked in surprise. Hickory Street would take them to the outskirts of town. It would be dark there. No streetlights. And more isolated. Also...dare she think it?...romantic. But hadn’t Gabe recently reminded her of their agreed-upon terms? Strictly professional.

  “You got it,” Ethan said and clucked to the horses.