by Jill Kemerer
“No, we lived in a bunkhouse on the ranch with a youth care worker, and the Laverts had a small house next to us.”
She twirled a straw in her glass of water. “Why were you sent there?”
He took a drink of coffee before answering. “Yearling was different than many group foster homes. They only accepted teen boys who had no chance of being placed with their parents. In my case, my parents were dead, but the other guys had parents who were abusive, addicted or imprisoned, and it limited their foster options. As long as we followed the rules—and there were many—we lived there until we aged out.”
“Aged out? What does that mean?”
“When I turned eighteen, I legally had to leave the foster home because I was an adult.”
“That’s awful.” Wrinkles appeared in her forehead. “I couldn’t have lived on my own at eighteen. I was still in high school.”
“So was I.”
The way she stilled and stared at him made him squirm. Guffaws came from the booth behind him, and the smell of bacon filled the air. He hoped Dottie would bring their breakfasts soon so he could avoid talking about his childhood anymore.
“What in the world did you do?” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “Where did you go?”
Looked like the childhood conversation wasn’t over yet.
“Big Bob helped me get hired at LFR Ranch. The Laverts always looked out for us as best they could.”
“But isn’t LFR Ranch a couple of hours away?” She wrapped her hands around her mug.
“I was still able to graduate. My guidance counselor helped me the two months I was gone. I was blessed. A lot of kids have nowhere to go. They’re literally homeless.”
“Oh, my, I had no idea.”
“Eat up, kids.” Dottie placed two steaming platters of eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast in front of them. “I’ll be back in a flash with more coffee.”
He dug into his eggs. As much as he’d missed living with Miss Joanne, he’d been fortunate to end up at Yearling. Throughout high school he’d been in a stable environment instead of on edge about possibly being moved to another home. The one thing he’d really feared was getting kicked out, so he’d followed the rules and never bent them. Plus, he’d learned the cowboy life and gotten his first taste of ranching.
“Big Bob taught me to ride.” He shook salt and pepper on his hash browns. “We all had ranch chores. I loved it. God was looking out for me there.”
Lexi bit into her toast, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I guess it’s all how we look at things, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You see your placement there as God looking out for you, and all I can do is feel sad that you didn’t grow up under the care of your parents.”
“I try not to think about it. Doesn’t change things.” He used to think about it. A lot. He’d wanted Miss Joanne to be his mom. He’d resented the homes he’d been shuffled to. In the deepest part of him, he’d wondered what was wrong with him. Why was he worthless? Why did no one ever even come close to wanting to adopt him? Why didn’t he have parents? As the years progressed, he’d come to terms with the fact he wasn’t meant to be part of a loving family.
“Well, at least when you have babies, you’ll be able to give them all the things you missed.” She sipped her coffee before taking another bite of bacon.
Babies? He’d never thought about having babies. Sure, he liked kids, but families were for other people. Weren’t they?
His chest tightened, and he was finding it hard to breathe. Great. The thought of kids was giving him a heart attack.
“I have to admit,” she said. “I thought I’d be married and starting a family by now.”
He could easily see her holding a baby or two. “You’ll be a great mother.”
Her face fell. “Well, it’s kind of a moot point. I’m not starting the family until I get married.” She raised her left hand and pointed to the ring finger. “And it hasn’t happened yet. I’m not sure it ever will.”
“Any single guy in this town would drop to a knee and propose in a minute.” As the words left his mouth, the tightness in his chest amplified. Why would he tell her that? It was true, but he didn’t want a bunch of guys sniffing around the ranch to date her.
She shook her head, a big smile on her face. “Oh, Clint, you crack me up. No one in Sweet Dreams is beating down the door to date me.”
Yet. Frowning, he attacked the food on his plate. He didn’t see what was so funny. He’d spoken the truth. If any of these guys thought they had even the slimmest of chances with her, they’d be wooing her.
Wooing? Now he sounded like Jerry with his old-timer sayings. And anyhow, it wasn’t any of Clint’s business if someone wanted to date Lexi or if she got married. He was only there to do a job.
And what would happen when she did get married? Any guy in his right mind would want to run Rock Step Ranch. Clint wouldn’t be needed there anymore. Or if she married someone without ranch experience, Clint would have to take orders from him.
He lost his appetite.
“Can we walk around town a little after breakfast? I’d like to see the storefront decorations. I usually stroll around downtown Denver to get in the Christmas spirit, but this year...” She shrugged.
The cows needed to be checked, but they would have to wait. If he didn’t walk her around town, someone else might, and he wasn’t ready to think about getting another job or worry about her getting married. The bottom line? He couldn’t afford a heart attack this close to Christmas. Guess he was strolling around Sweet Dreams.
* * *
What had possessed her to talk about babies with Clint? Lexi huddled under her scarf as she strolled next to him along Main Street. One minute they’d been talking about his childhood—which was about as depressing as it could get—and the next she’d tried to make the situation better by telling him he’d be a good dad. But the whole thing had backfired. As soon as she’d mentioned babies, she’d pictured him holding one.
And Clint was gorgeous enough without adding an adorable baby to the mix.
“Well, the wind isn’t so crazy now.” She stopped in front of the window of the secondhand shop. Plush stuffed penguins were sitting on nests made of white lights, and children’s books with penguins were propped up next to them. The longing in her heart surprised her. She hadn’t thought about having babies in a long time. Her company was her baby. But it felt more like a rebellious teenager lately, and she couldn’t snuggle it in her arms or sing lullabies to it.
“Isn’t that a cute display?” Would she ever buy little books and stuffed animals for her own children for Christmas? Life hadn’t turned out the way she’d dreamed it would. What if she never got married? Never had babies to cradle in her arms?
“Uh-huh.” Clint barely glanced at the window. Not a shock where he was concerned.
She’d been around him too much, and she was forgetting the things that were important to her. Maybe she was destined to be single the rest of her life. She wanted more than mutual affection, more than discussing ranch operations, more than a pleasant afternoon together.
She wanted love.
Love was intense, unpredictable. It was knowing each other’s secrets. She’d seen it firsthand with friends in Denver. Her own parents had been affectionate, with eyes only for each other. She wanted the same.
“Do you want to turn around?” Her mood had slipped to melancholy. What was the point in window shopping with someone if they weren’t into it?
“Whatever you want.”
She almost rolled her eyes. She wanted... It didn’t matter. What had Clint said at breakfast when she’d been sad he didn’t have parents? Doesn’t change things. He was right. She could want love and marriage and babies, but it didn’t change things.
She needed clarity. Becaus
e living between her two worlds was getting too hard. Either she moved back to Denver and fixed her company, or she lived here permanently. She didn’t see how she could continue to live here and effectively run Weddings by Alexandra. But what about her feelings for Clint?
“Let’s keep going,” she said brusquely. “There’s not much left to see.”
They passed a barber shop and a real estate agent’s office with a wreath on the door and red lights shaped like cowboy boots in the window. At the end of the block, she prepared to go back, but the corner building across the street caught her eye.
“Why is the old chamber of commerce building all boarded up?” She started forward, but Clint caught her arm. Just then a vehicle turned directly in front of them.
“Whoa, there.” He kept hold of her arm. “Didn’t you see that truck?”
“No, I—Come on!” She checked for traffic this time and ran across the street, gazing up at the two-story brick building. It had been there forever, but she’d never paid it much attention. It had housed several businesses over the years, but the only one she could remember was the chamber of commerce, and she’d never been inside. “I wonder why it’s empty. I can’t believe I never really noticed it before. Whatever it was originally used for must have been important for them to put all this architectural detail into it.”
Clint walked to the front, where plywood covered the large picture windows and a faded For Sale sign hung lopsided from the door. “Looks like it was a department store.”
“How can you tell?”
He pointed to the bricks above the window. Engraved stones of a lighter shade spelled out Department Store.
She tossed her head back and laughed. A grin spread across his face.
The recessed entry held an old-fashioned door with peeling black paint. It had a narrow window near the top, and, standing on her tiptoes, she rubbed the dirt off with a tissue and tried to peek inside. It was hard to tell from her view, but it appeared to be a large empty space.
Perfect for a wedding reception.
“I wonder how long it’s been boarded up.”
He shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Why are you excited about this place? Looks like it hasn’t been used in years.”
A ticker tape of things to research spun through her mind, and she craned her neck to try to see more of the interior.
“You’re taller than me.” She pulled him next to her and practically shoved him to the narrow window. “Can you look in there and tell me what you see?”
He peered into it. “A counter. Looks like some leftover scaffolding. I think there’s a staircase.”
“Is it wooden?”
He shaded his eyes to see better. “I can’t tell.”
“Boost me up.”
“What?” With a deer-caught-in-headlights expression, he pressed his back to the alcove wall. She popped her fist on her hip and gave him her most withering glare.
“I need to know if it has hardwood floors and how the space flows.”
“I’ll check again.”
“I won’t be able to see it through your eyes.”
He exhaled. Loudly. “Fine.”
“Crouch down a little. I’ll step onto your thigh.” She couldn’t wait to see what the room looked like. Clint obeyed, and as she put her foot above his knee he hoisted her up, his hands around her waist. Even through her wool coat, she was aware of his touch.
She gasped. “It’s better than I imagined! I can’t really see the floors, but I can tell they’re hardwood. And there is a staircase—I think it’s original. Oh! This is the right size.”
She slid down with his arms still at her waist, and spun to face him.
“The right size for what?” His voice was husky.
“A wedding reception.”
The words hovered above them like the Christmas lights strung across the town, and as she met Clint’s eyes, she forgot the ticker tape of things to research. Forgot the hardwood floors and breathtaking staircase. Forgot everything.
He leaned in, his blue eyes as bright as she’d ever seen them. Was he going to kiss her?
At the last second, he brushed her cheek with his lips. At his simple touch, she melted into his arms. All the burdens and guilt and worries she’d been carrying for the past two months no longer mattered. For the first time since burying her father, she belonged somewhere. In his embrace.
She didn’t have to be the boss of anything—not her company, not the ranch—not with his arms locked around her and her cheek pressed against his shoulder.
Please don’t let this moment end.
Clint stepped back and rubbed his neck, not looking at her.
“Don’t say anything.” She blinked, shaking her head. “Don’t say a word. Just...thank you.”
“Lexi—”
“Don’t.” She couldn’t bear it if he announced this moment was a mistake or any other lame thing men came up with when they were afraid of getting in too deep. This had been too real, too precious to let anything ruin it.
“I’m going to find out about this building. It’s the perfect place for wedding receptions. Think of all the themes I could do with it. And parties! I don’t think there are any upscale reception halls in the area. Sweet Dreams has a VFW hall outside town, but frankly, it was always on the dumpy side. Don’t brides in Wyoming deserve a special place to celebrate close to home? I think they do.” She hooked her arm in his and told him all the ideas running through her head on the way back to the truck. He didn’t say a word, and she tried not to read anything into his silence.
All she knew was she’d found two vital things in under thirty minutes: a sense she belonged and something that brought her joy.
She couldn’t wait to get home and start researching.
Chapter Nine
What kind of a cotton-pickin’ fool was he?
He’d almost kissed her. Sure, he’d brushed her cheek in the nick of time, but it had been a close call. Too close.
The cold air bit at his exposed cheeks as he rode around the pasture that afternoon checking pregnant cows. His insulated coveralls kept his body warm, but his heart had been chilled ever since Lexi thanked him.
She’d thanked him.
For what? For being inappropriate? Because he had been. At breakfast she’d been talking about babies, and then she’d been so over the moon about the abandoned building. When she’d uttered the words wedding reception, he’d taken one look at her face—sparkling and beautiful and good—and he’d lost his mind. And when she’d burrowed into his embrace with her cheek against his shoulder? He’d actually allowed himself a peek at the dreams he’d buried long ago.
He couldn’t seem to put the dreams back. He hadn’t simply held her. He’d kissed her cheek. Thought about kissing her lips. He’d taken their relationship beyond employer/employee, way past friendship...to risky.
He couldn’t go any farther. Not where she was concerned.
His horse trotted through the frozen pasture around the grazing herd as snow fell. The air pinched Clint’s lungs, made him feel alive. This—riding a horse on a winter day, checking pregnant cows, making sure their drinking water hadn’t iced over—this was what he’d been made to do. The good Lord had blessed him with a love of ranching. And he was working on one of the finest ranches in Wyoming, so how could he jeopardize it by wanting more?
He was Lexi’s employee, and his status wasn’t going to change unless she fired him. He’d spent his entire life as no one’s choice. There was something flawed inside him. It was why his dad had abandoned him, why his grandfather couldn’t stand him, why none of the foster families considered making him a permanent part of their lives. Other kids had gotten adopted. Not him.
He belonged to nobody, and no one belonged to him. And that’s the way it would stay.
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Wishful thinking would only bring disappointment, the way it always had.
Lexi was nice to him because she was nice to everyone. She was lonely, needed a friend, and he was nearby.
And when she finds out the reason you lost your land?
She wouldn’t want him around at all. She’d made it clear she hated being lied to. And he hadn’t told her the whole truth.
Lexi made people’s dreams come true. It was who she was, what she did. And she deserved someone who would make her dreams come true.
Every dream he’d had, he’d found a way to mess up.
She might not know him as a worthless brat or that Romine kid, but he did. He’d never been enough. Never would be enough for someone like her. When she got her life figured out, she’d find someone who belonged in her world. Someone with a family who would treat her like their daughter. And she’d be happy.
With a clicking sound, he urged his horse to keep moving. A snow-covered lump caught his eye. He made his way around the cattle grazing contentedly on the prairie grass and headed toward the lump, which he could now make out beyond the ridge.
A knot formed in his gut as he realized what it was. He dismounted and lowered to one knee to make sure. A cold, unmoving heifer. He checked the tag and stood so abruptly the blood rushed from his head.
No! He bent over, bracing his hands against his thighs as the heifer’s death hit him. This animal had seemed fine. How had he missed the signs? Had she been off by herself? Where had he gone wrong?
Carefully, he brushed the snow off her, looking for signs of attack or trauma, but he didn’t see any. He and Logan had selected this heifer to keep based on her overall health and her mama’s calving record. They’d fully expected her to be a top producer in the future.
And now she was dead.
He hadn’t wanted to cry in a long time, but emotion strangled his throat. He coughed to dislodge it, but the knot forming only grew bigger.
While he’d been off with Lexi, this precious animal had died.
He got back on his horse and rode hard back to the barns. After he put the horse away, he strode to Logan’s cabin, dreading the conversation he was about to have.