Even if she hadn’t been overwhelmed trying to make double the business decisions as usual, she couldn’t imagine dating anyone at this time and certainly not Clint. She wanted romance with a capital R, and after Doug, she’d decided under no circumstances was she settling for ho-hum. She wanted breathless kisses. Heart-pounding anticipation. A man who loved her enough to make a grand gesture or two. Someone who valued marriage and wanted kids.
She wanted more than any guy had offered her so far, and Clint, for all his curling eyelashes and silky, touchable hair, seemed too reserved to be that guy.
Besides, she had to hire him. She was out of options. She’d interviewed five men for the job, hired one, fired one. With the drought and extra expenses from the new barn, the ranch needed someone with experience who understood how to manage its resources wisely. And after losing Daddy, she couldn’t bear to lose her home, too.
A knock on the door startled her. She opened it, once more struck by Clint’s blue eyes. She waved for him to follow her into the living room.
“Well, what did you think?”
He perched on the edge of the chair, hat in hand. “It’s a fine operation. Jerry’s done a good job running it since...well...” His eyebrows drew together, and he cleared his throat.
“Yes.” She clasped her hands tightly. Thinking about Daddy being gone formed an instant lump in her throat, one she’d gotten adept at ignoring. Somehow she needed to find a way to get over the pain of losing him that had taken up permanent residence in her heart. “Jerry’s been a blessing. For many years.”
“Why don’t you have him manage it?” The question was simple, open, pure curiosity.
“He doesn’t want to. His wife’s been asking him to slow down. He’s getting older. Said I needed a long-term solution. And Logan isn’t interested, either. He’s the most experienced full-time ranch hand, but he only plans on staying here a year or two more. He and his wife want to move back to Casper after they save enough money to buy a house.”
Clint nodded, a lock of hair dipping across his forehead. She forced her attention to her raggedy fingernails. Flipping through the papers she’d left on the end table earlier, she found the list she’d typed.
“Jerry and I discussed it, and we think you’re right for the position.” After naming his salary and benefits, she went over his duties and wrapped it up with living arrangements. “We have a few empty cabins, a two-bedroom guest house and a three-bedroom manager’s house. Logan lives in the manager’s house with his wife, Sarah, and their children. She’s the ranch cook. If you’d like, I’ll ask them to move, but...”
“No.” He shook his head. “One of the cabins will be fine.”
“Does this mean you’ll take the job?”
“I’ll take it.” His eyes glinted, reminding her of a wild storm on the prairie, all lightning flashes and black clouds rolling in the distance. Spectacular. Exciting.
Maybe Jerry was onto something with the whole wild horse analogy. And maybe Clint wasn’t as reserved as she’d originally thought.
“When can you start?” she asked.
“When do you need me?”
“Yesterday.” She sighed, waving her hand. “Sorry, it’s just been hard on the crew. They’ve all had to step up and take on way too much responsibility here for weeks now. I know you need to give your employer notice and—”
“I’ll move in this weekend and start Monday.”
Just like that? She wanted to raise her fist and yell, “Yippee!” but she said a silent prayer of thanks instead. “Perfect. As for the living arrangements, I appreciate you allowing Logan and Sarah to stay in the larger house, but I insist you take the two-bedroom guest cabin. You’re in a position of authority here, and your lodging should reflect it.”
He nodded.
“Do you have any questions?” she asked. “Any concerns?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Clint, we graduated high school together. Ma’am makes me feel like I’m a hundred and fifty years old. Call me Lexi.”
“I don’t know if I feel right doing that.”
“Why not?”
“Well, if you’re going to be my boss, I think it should be more formal.”
“I will be your boss, but we’re going to have to be comfortable enough with each other that you can come to me with any problems. We’ll be meeting weekly on Thursday mornings to discuss the ranch. I might not be involved in the daily operations, but I am very invested in its future.”
“I’m glad to hear that. This is your ranch. You should be invested.”
“Exactly. Jerry has paperwork for you to fill out. I’ll meet you down there in half an hour to show you to your new home.” She held out her hand. “Thanks, Clint, for coming today. Welcome aboard.”
The warm strength in his callused hand assured her she’d chosen wisely. He dipped his head and left. As soon as the front door clicked shut, she went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Her hand trembled as she filled the cup. She kept forgetting to eat. Maybe a piece of toast to go with the tea...
How had her life changed so drastically? One minute she was on top of the world, succeeding at her dream job. The next, plunged into the abyss of her father’s death.
Six months. That’s how long it had been since she’d visited Daddy. He’d appeared to be in fine health in May. They’d ridden on horseback around the ranch the way they always did. She’d had no idea he had cancer.
Had he known?
Of course not.
If he had known, he would have told her. She would have come back, gone to the doctor with him, made sure he got chemotherapy and radiation and anything that would have saved him. But they hadn’t known. And now it was too late.
Why didn’t I make more of an effort to come home this summer? He must have been sick. Must have had some symptoms. And I wasn’t here to notice.
Her throat tightened the way it had repeatedly since she’d gotten the call from Jerry saying her father had died.
When she’d told Clint this ranch was the only thing left of her parents and her childhood, she’d meant it. And she wasn’t about to lose it, too.
* * *
As Lexi gave him the tour of the two-bedroom log cabin, Clint mentally tallied a to-do list. It was dusty, but the open area with the kitchen, dining and living room was larger than his current apartment’s, and the master bedroom had a nice view of the mountains. He planned to take his coffee first thing each day on the covered porch. Frankly, it was the nicest place he’d lived in and, even unfurnished, it felt like home.
Home. A sense of foreboding killed his good mood. Had he ever belonged anywhere? If he started identifying this place as home, he’d lose it, the way he’d been torn from every other place where he’d felt comfortable.
He needed to remain detached.
At least the main house was up the lane far enough for him to maintain a necessary distance from his boss. Other than weekly meetings, he saw no reason why they would need to see each other.
“The river’s great for fishing, and feel free to use the ATVs anytime. If you need help moving in, just holler. I’m sure one of the ranch hands would be happy to lend a hand.”
“Yes, ma’a—” He caught himself. “Thank you, Miss Lexi.”
She leaned against the kitchen counter and glared. “Clint, Jerry, who is seventy-five years old, calls me Miss Lexi. It’s Lexi. Just Lexi.”
He itched to smile, but she looked paler, more tired than she had earlier. He studied her more closely.
Thin. Too thin. Dark smudges under her eyes. Cheekbones jutting out. Her clothes hung on her. Was she eating enough? Or at all?
She had the look of someone who’d had to be strong for too long. It reminded him of moving into his first foster home after his grandfather died when Clint was six. Even though G
randpa had been mean as a rattler, when the man passed, Clint knew deep inside he was all alone in the world and his life would never be the same. Did Lexi feel alone, too? He wanted to tuck her under a blanket on the couch. Protect her.
He shook his head. Him protecting her? What a laugh. She didn’t need someone like him.
She stepped forward and wobbled.
“Have you eaten lately?” He moved closer, ready to catch her if she fainted.
“What?” She blinked, shaking her head, and swayed. He reached for her, steadied her.
“Come on, I’ll take you back. You need some food.”
“I’m fine.” Her protest sounded weak. “I had some toast a little bit ago.”
“It’s five thirty. You need a meal.” He kept a loose hold on her arm and led her to the door. The wind had picked up, and the temperature had dropped. “Zip up. You don’t want to catch cold.”
To his relief, she didn’t argue. She zipped her coat and fell in beside him. When they reached the house, he followed her inside. A napkin with a half-eaten piece of toast lay on the end table. Probably the only food she’d eaten today.
“Sit on the couch, and I’ll make you something to eat.”
“I couldn’t ask you—”
“I’m not driving back to Cheyenne on an empty stomach. I’ll make some supper and get out of here.”
She sat on the couch, looking lost. “Okay.”
He opened her fridge and pantry. Chicken broth, noodles, frozen carrots. “Are you saving the chicken in the freezer for anything?”
“There’s chicken in the freezer?”
He chuckled under his breath. “I’m using it.”
After opening cupboards and drawers, he had a good idea of where everything was stored. He chopped an onion, defrosted and diced the chicken, and heated oil in a frying pan. He filled a large pot with the chicken stock and set it on the stove to boil.
Lexi crept up and sat on one of the bar stools opposite him. “What are you making?”
“Chicken noodle soup.”
“Really, you can cook?”
He nodded, suddenly uncomfortable. He shouldn’t be here, in her house, going through her kitchen. It was too intimate.
She wiped her fingers across her forehead. “I never really learned.” Her cell phone rang. “Excuse me.” She hurried to stand by the patio door as she answered the phone.
After stirring the chicken frying in the pan, he tracked her moves. Voice bright and confident, hand reaching for the pen and paper on the coffee table. Phone tucked between her ear and shoulder as she scribbled something. When the call ended, she seemed to deflate, and he quickly turned away.
“I forgot to mention I’ll be out of town next Thursday through Sunday. It’s the final wedding I’m in charge of for the year. My other planners are organizing the rest.”
“Okay.” He slid the cooked chicken into the boiling pot along with the noodles, onions and carrots. A pinch of salt and pepper, and he dialed the burner down to simmer for a while. “If you don’t cook, what do you do for meals?”
“Well, in Denver, I order a lot of takeout. I’m usually working late, anyhow.”
“But you’re here. And there’s no takeout.”
“I manage.”
Not very well, from the looks of it. He doubted she’d eaten more than a bowl of cereal all week. “Why don’t you eat with the rest of the crew?”
She grimaced, shaking her head vehemently. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable, and neither would they.”
She had a point there. “You mentioned a cook—Sarah, right? She would probably fix you a plate.”
Lexi shrugged, a wistful expression in her eyes. “I’m sure you’re right.”
He could tell she had no intention of asking Sarah for a meal. He’d stop over at the manager’s house soon and have a quick chat with Logan and his wife. One of the hands could pick up a meal from them to drop off at the main house each night. Whether Lexi ate it or not wasn’t his concern.
Her phone rang again. She smiled an apology and answered it, walking away. He couldn’t imagine a job with constant phone calls. He stirred the soup, decided it was ready, and ladled out a bowl for her. She was sitting in a chair, saying something about bouquets and cost overages. He’d done his duty. Made her food. She wouldn’t even notice if he left without eating. Sharing a meal with her seemed a little too cozy at this point.
But as he sneaked out to his truck, his mind kept returning to her and the bowl of soup he’d left. He didn’t want her fainting. Didn’t like that her clothes were hanging from her.
She’s not my problem.
He’d been hired to manage the ranch, not the ranch owner. Sure, she was alone and grieving and not taking proper care of herself, but fixing it wasn’t within his realm.
As he drove past the paddocks, he barely noticed the property that had so mesmerized him earlier. He’d better get his focus back on the cattle and the land where it belonged. He’d finally gotten the nerve to try working on a ranch again. He couldn’t make another mistake and ruin this, too.
Copyright © 2017 by Ripple Effect Press, LLC
ISBN-13: 9781488018732
Amish Christmas Twins
Copyright © 2017 by Patricia MacDonald
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 M3B 3K9, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
Amish Christmas Twins Page 20