The Rancher's Mistletoe Bride

by Jill Kemerer

  How many times will I be punished, Lord? I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not waiting to buy this ranch. I wanted it so badly. If I’d waited a few years, I would have saved enough to get my own mortgage.

  His chest burned within him, and his throat was tight as he tried to keep his emotions from erupting.

  And, Lord, I’m sorry I lied to Lexi. She’s right. I’ve been lying to myself.

  It was time to face the truth. He was never meant to have it all—parents, a ranch, a wife and family. He didn’t deserve it.

  No one deserves it.

  Where had that thought come from? He slid to his knees in the cold snow, the land he’d once owned spread out before him, and he prayed.

  No one deserves it? I know I don’t. But someone does. They must. Take Lexi, for example. She deserves it all.

  The Bible verse he’d memorized came back. For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.

  No one deserved anything but punishment.

  Just as quickly, the rest of the verse came to mind. All are justified freely by His grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.

  The air whooshed out of his lungs.

  Justified freely by His grace—undeserved, but given anyway.

  You didn’t just die for people who have their lives together. You know, the ones raised in loving homes and who are successful in life. You died for me. And I need a Savior more than anyone.

  The cold air swirled around him, but he couldn’t move. The memories he’d been avoiding—the best ones—all rushed back.

  Lexi, so fearless and compassionate, showing him his cabin although she’d been wrecked with exhaustion. Riding out to the pasture with her and listening to her talk about her father. Making Thanksgiving dinner together, decorating his cabin for Christmas, all the Thursday meetings, kissing her under the imaginary mistletoe.

  Priceless memories he’d cherish and revisit when his heart didn’t throb with pain anymore.

  No one but himself to blame. He’d brought this heartache on himself the same as he’d lost the land he knelt on.

  Father, I’ve read the Bible enough to know I’m Your child. And You love me. So why can’t I love myself? Is Lexi right? Do I push people away to make sure I’m alone? I don’t want to be alone anymore.

  He turned his head and caught his breath. A deer stood not ten feet away, chewing on prairie grass and watching him.

  Clint laughed, big gulping guffaws, startling the deer. It leaped away.

  God was always with him, and the deer was a reminder of it. Lurching to his feet, he brushed the snow off his knees and returned to the truck.

  With God on his side, he could move forward. If he could just figure out a life without Lexi.

  * * *

  He’d left. And Lexi had never felt more alone.

  She picked up the half-eaten muffins and threw them at the Christmas tree. A bulb fell to the floor and shattered. Perfect. She wanted to smash every ornament on the tree and drag it outside and let the wind blow it to Montana. Erase any sign of goodness and hope in this house.

  This empty shell of a house.

  She wiped her tears and took a deep breath.

  Her parents were gone. Clint was gone. Her passion for Weddings by Alexandra was gone.

  What was left?

  A whine at the door startled her. She rushed to the door. Maybe Clint had come back. Maybe he hadn’t meant what he’d said. Maybe...

  She opened it, and Banjo slunk inside. No one else was around.

  She choked, kneeling, and wrapped her arms around the dog. “He left you, too, didn’t he? What are we going to do without him?”

  Once more, she’d fallen for an emotionally unavailable guy. And it wasn’t as if the warning signs hadn’t been there all along. She’d told herself he was safe. Just a strong, silent cowboy. Someone she could depend on to manage the ranch and nothing more.

  But she’d been wrong. He was more than a dependable ranch manager. He was caring, a great listener. He made time for her whenever she asked, and it wasn’t because he was her employee. He cared about her needs. He made her feel safe and warm and loved.

  But he didn’t love her.

  “Come on, Banjo.” She padded to the living room. “Let’s get you warm. Hop on the couch, and I’ll get a blanket for us.”

  The poor dog tried to get up on the couch, but he couldn’t. She heaved him up and he stretched out at one end.

  She made her way to the hallway to find a blanket.

  As much as she wanted to forget about Clint tonight, she couldn’t. All the things she’d shared with him came to mind. Had her secrets meant nothing? Why wouldn’t he have confided in her earlier? Surely he knew she wouldn’t hold losing his property against him? Especially after being clued in to what his childhood had been like. His dedication to the smallest ranch details proved his integrity and intelligence.

  He should have told her. Should have trusted her.

  But what about before? Would I have still hired him if he’d told me during the interview? Yes, she still would have hired him. She believed in the best in people, and she’d needed a manager.

  She opened the linen closet, but her favorite throw wasn’t there. She’d forgotten she’d taken it to Denver.

  The fact Clint had walked out was unforgivable. Didn’t she have a say in whether he stayed or not? Had their kiss only been a silly game to him? Was she really just sugar, a moment of pretend and nothing more?

  What had she thought would happen? That he would suddenly become this grand gesture–making, romantic guy who bared his soul and wanted to spend his days with her?

  Yes.

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and then another.

  What was she going to do now? She’d been ready to buy the building downtown, sell Natalie her company and live happily ever after here.

  She’d already lost so much. To lose this dream of coming back, of starting a new business venture, was hard. But losing the hope she’d finally found the man to spend her life with—someone who shared her values, who loved the ranch like it was his own—she didn’t think she’d recover from this. She just wanted to curl up with Banjo and sleep for days.

  Daddy always kept a blanket on the top shelf of his closet. She went into his room and opened the closet door. The navy blanket was folded exactly where she knew it would be. She tried to reach it, but it was too high. She jumped, snagging it so that it fell to the floor. A shoe box crashed down, spilling its contents. Photographs, cards and other papers landed on the carpet.

  She crouched, picking up the card closest to her. A birthday card she’d given him. The photo next to it had been taken last year. She and Daddy were grinning like fools with his arm slung over her shoulders and her arm wrapped around his waist. A swanky restaurant in Denver was the backdrop. She clutched it, remembering the way they’d laughed that night. A folded-up square caught her eye. She unfolded the glossy paper and gasped. It was the magazine article that launched Weddings by Alexandra into fame.

  Every item she touched was related to her.

  A keepsake box.

  Full of a father’s love.

  Oh, Lord, I was wrong. How could I have been so wrong? I was angry at Daddy because I thought I had let him down, that he was mad at me.

  Clint’s parting words came back. He probably didn’t want to burden you.

  The words rang true. Daddy had loved her. And his death hadn’t been a punishment. It had been his time. Nothing she could have done would have changed it. He was in one of those rooms in Heaven, and shouldn’t she be happy for him? Living in paradise instead of suffering here?

  She tucked everything back into the shoe box, took the blanket back to the living room and sat on the couch next to Banjo, spreading it over them.

 
; Had she unintentionally burdened Clint with taking Daddy’s place, not just in ranch operations, but as her friend and confidant? He’d helped her through a difficult time. His quiet understanding, the way he listened had helped her heal from her father’s death.

  Oh, God, I think from the day Clint walked in, I expected too much from him.

  A sob erupted, and she started crying again. For her dead parents. For her own lonely future. For the company she no longer wanted. For the building she wouldn’t be buying. But most of all for the man she loved who couldn’t see himself as valuable. The one who’d left. The one she doubted she’d ever get over.

  And when her eyes were swollen and no tears were left, she stared at the Christmas tree and felt as lost as the day she’d gotten the call Daddy had died.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Let me make sure I have this correct.” Nash Bolton held a piece of crispy bacon in his hand. Clint sat across the table from him in the kitchen of Wade’s ranch house, where he’d driven after his meltdown last night. “Lexi Harrington not only hired you but has feelings for you, and you quit and drove here?”

  “Yes.” It sounded stupid, but how could Clint explain?

  “And you say she’s going to sell her successful business in Denver to move back to Wyoming.”

  “Uh-huh.” He wasn’t thirsty, but he took a drink of coffee anyway.

  “And you told her, ‘no, thank you,’ yesterday because...? This is the part I’m confused about.”

  Clint pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you. The ranch I lost? My fault. I signed a land contract with a man I didn’t know, and I lost it all.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you explained that.” Nash’s eyes always seemed to hold mischief, and now was no exception. Clint wanted to wipe the smirk right off his face. He drank the rest of his coffee instead. “Listen, man, none of us had a real dad in our lives. Big Bob did his best for us at Yearling, but the way we all survived our childhoods, it’s no wonder we had big dreams and no idea how to go about getting them. I did some stupid stuff, too, Clint. You can’t beat yourself up over this.”

  Wade walked in and poured himself a cup of joe. “Looks like I’m missing the good stuff. What exactly are you beating yourself up for, Clint?”

  Clint shifted his jaw, glaring at Nash. Nash sat back and opened his arms as if to say, Tell him. Clint might as well get it over with. No more secrets. Not from his friends. Not from anyone. He told Wade the basics, and when he’d finished, he ran his hand through his hair. What a morning.

  “I’ve got a lawyer friend. One of the best in the state. She’ll find this guy and get your money back.”

  Clint shook his head. “I talked to a lawyer after I was evicted. Devon skipped town after he stopped paying his loans, and apparently he was using a fake identity. There’s nothing I can do. And, to be honest, I want to keep it in my past.”

  “Doesn’t seem to be staying in the past,” Nash muttered.

  “What’s that?” Wade asked.

  “Well, it seems our boy Clint here has a thing going on with his boss.”

  “Lexi?” Wade leaned back, openly interested. “Do tell.”

  “Nash,” Clint warned.

  “Yes, she’s been planning weddings and gotten quite successful at it in Denver, but it seems she’s pretty set on moving back to Wyoming.”

  “What’s this have to do with Clint?” Wade asked.

  “Yeah, Clint,” Nash said, acting innocent. “What does this have to do with you?”

  Clint slammed his mug on the counter. “I’m in love with her.” He spun to face them. “There. Are you happy?”

  Their shocked expressions would have made him laugh on any other day.

  “Does she love you?”

  He shrugged. “If she does, it’s based on a lie.”

  Nash raised his finger, leaning toward Wade. “Last night he told her about how he lost the land, and then he quit.”

  “You don’t want a woman who is going to hold every mistake you make against you,” Wade said. “Good riddance.”

  “She didn’t hold it against me. I hold it against me.”

  “So you have reason to believe she cares for you, but you quit because of a mistake you made five years ago?”

  “Yes.” He pressed the heel of his hand into his eyebrow. “No. I don’t know. She doesn’t know me. Not the real me.”

  “Oh, ho!” Nash chuckled. “How many Clint Romines are there?”

  “Nash,” Wade scolded. “Clint, you’re the quietest man I know. Always have been. You’re kind of a mystery. But you’re also the most loyal, honest, hardworking, humble man I know.”

  Wade thought that about him? Clint had to swallow the emotion building inside him.

  “Hey, what about me?” Nash pretended to be hurt.

  Wade ignored him and pointed at Clint. “There’s only one you. You’re genuine. The real deal.”

  “I want to believe it. As a kid I felt so worthless, and—” Saying the word worthless choked him up. He shook his head, unable to continue.

  “Me too.” Nash’s expression was sober, his eyes stone cold. “That’s exactly the word I would use. Worthless.”

  Wade raised his eyebrows, took a sip of coffee and sighed. “I didn’t just feel worthless. I was worthless.”

  Understanding knotted them together.

  The mortar binding Clint’s heart crumbled into dust.

  “You were never worthless.” Clint stared at Wade. Then he turned his attention to Nash. “And you were never worthless.”

  Nash squirmed in his chair.

  “And I’m not worthless, either.”

  Wade crossed to Clint and pulled him into a side hug. Nash joined them and gave Clint a half embrace and a slap on the back before wiping under his eye with the back of his hand.

  “You’re my best friends,” Clint said. “My brothers.”

  “You know it, brother.” Nash pumped his fist in the air.

  “So what are you going to do now?” Wade sat back down, and Nash and Clint followed.

  He pictured Lexi, so anguished and angry last night, and he shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “You love her,” Wade reiterated.

  “Yep.”

  “She loves you?” Nash asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, tell us everything, and don’t leave anything out.” Nash crossed his arms over his chest.

  What did he have to lose? He’d already turned his back on it all. “Well, it started in November...”

  An hour later, they still sat around the table but in complete silence. Clint had finished telling them everything.

  “What makes you think you could have gotten better prices for the calves?” Wade asked. Clint should have figured he’d home in on the business stuff. Wade had built an empire complete with a working dude ranch, thousands of acres of land, a horse-breeding business and anything else that could make him money. The guy was a genius, and he’d done it all on his own. “That’s the same price I got for mine.”

  Clint raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t realized that.

  “As far as the drunk kid, you couldn’t have prevented it.” Nash thumped his knuckles on the table. “Trust me. I know. My mother snuck around, stealing, drinking, drugging. No one could stop her. Still can’t. I’m sure she’s either in jail or smoking crack as we speak. You did the right thing, getting the cops involved.”

  “Sounds like you have some mighty thin excuses about why you can’t be with Lexi.” Wade sucked on a toothpick.

  What had Lexi said last night? Go cut yourself off from everyone. It’s easier, isn’t it? Then you don’t have to take a chance and get your heart broken again.

  “I think you’re right,” Clint said. “I don’t
know love. I don’t know how to do it. I’m scared of messing up.”

  Nash looked thoughtful. “What makes Lexi happy?”

  That was easy. “Weddings. She loves planning them. And the building in Sweet Dreams—she’s got all these ideas for it. She loves riding her horse, Nugget. And she gets all sparkly, like she’s been dipped in glitter, when she’s shopping for candles or jewelry. She loves decorating, and she misses her dad something fierce.”

  Wade and Nash exchanged shocked looks. “You need to go back. Tell her you love her.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  “Sure, it is,” Nash said.

  “No, you don’t understand. She deserves more.”

  “Then give it to her.” Wade flourished his hand. “Buy the woman a ring. If you need money, I’ve got you covered.”

  “I’ve got money. Haven’t spent more than two nickels since losing my land. It just piled up in the bank.” In the past, Wade’s offer would have embarrassed Clint, but today it made him grateful. “She’s so generous. She makes other people’s dreams come true for a living. She deserves to be swept off her feet. Dazzled.”

  Nash leaned forward. “How are you going to do it?”

  “I’m going to need some help.”

  * * *

  Lexi steeped a cup of tea and bent to pet Banjo, who looked up at her with what seemed to be hope. “I know you miss him. I do, too.”

  She’d finally drifted into a restless sleep around three in the morning and hadn’t gotten out of bed until after noon. She’d yet to change out of her pajamas. What was the point?

  Sitting cross-legged on the couch with the blanket nestled over her, she let the cup of tea warm her hands.

  She needed a new life plan.

  Did she still want to live on the ranch?

  Maybe.

  If she never saw Clint again, would she still want to live in Sweet Dreams and buy the building?

  Maybe.

  If she did see Clint again, would she want to live in Sweet Dreams?

  She didn’t know if her heart could handle bumping into him the way they’d left things, but if they made up...