He sounded sincere. She wanted to believe, but... “You hurt me.”
“I can never say I’m sorry enough. But I’m asking...begging...for a second chance.”
A million thoughts tangled in her brain, but only one mattered. Josiah. He’d hurt her, but she would give him a second chance.
“I forgive you,” she said finally. “But don’t ever mess with me like that again.”
“I won’t. Promise. I love you. I really do.”
Forget ten lords a leaping. About a hundred seemed to be jumping in her stomach. She threw her arms around him. “I love you, too. Even though you don’t always know what’s good for you.”
He hugged her tight. “I’m figuring that out. It’s a lesson we both can work on.”
“Yes.” Ellie rested her head against his chest. His heart beat against her cheek.
“We can figure out what needs to be done to your parents’ place right away. Once you get Buck’s Place going in Billings, I want us to work on the next phase of your plan. We can discuss formalizing our partnership later.” He pulled out a sprig of mistletoe, held it over her head. “Right now I want a Christmas kiss.”
He kissed her on the lips.
This was everything she’d dreamed about, everything she hadn’t known she’d wanted until she met Josiah. Not the teenager, the man. His kiss was warm and tasted like her favorite flavor—him. She could never get enough.
“Wow.” She uncurled her toes. “That was...”
“Only the beginning.” Josiah pulled out something from under his jacket—a jewelry-sized box wrapped in red sparkly paper and tied with a pretty white ribbon. “This is for you.”
Anticipation cascaded through her. She took the present, removed the ribbon, and ripped off the paper.
Fingers trembling, Ellie opened the box. She pulled back tissue paper to find a necklace. A multi-color braided ribbon with a small bell that looked like an ornament from one of the smaller trees at the main house.
Her insides turned to goo. “You made this for me.”
“With a little help.” He sounded nervous again. “I’m new to crafting, but I gave it my best shot.”
Joy flowed through her, carrying the spirit of Christmas and her love for Josiah. “It’s lovely. Perfect.”
He placed the ribbon around her neck and then held up a key chain with a bell attached.
“This was left for me under the tree by Mr. Krinkles. You once told me I needed to wear a bell as a warning system, but I really need one so you can find me if I get lost.” Josiah touched the two bells around her neck. “You can wear yours in December and the one I gave you the rest of the year. I never want to lose you, Ellie. Never.”
Her heart melted. “I couldn’t ask for a better gift.”
He caressed her face. “Merry Christmas, Ellie.”
She tugged on his Santa hat. “Merry Christmas, Joe.”
Josiah laughed. “I’ll let you get away with that on Christmas Day only.”
Ellie loved this man. She kissed him, a quick one, but that was enough. For now. “Deal.”
She looked at the angel on the top of the tree.
Thank you.
And you, too, big brother.
Josiah took out another small white box with a red ribbon from his pocket. “I have something else for you.”
She laughed. “You’re spoiling me.”
“That’s the plan.”
“I love it.” Wiggling her toes, she untied the bow and opened the box. “Mr. Krinkles’ cookies.”
“Rumor has it these are magic cookies.”
She touched the necklace Josiah had made for her. “I believe it.”
“Have one.”
She removed a cookie from the box and saw a small card with a picture of a diamond engagement ring.
Her hands trembled. She nearly dropped the cookie. “A ring...”
“Read what it says.”
“This IOU is redeemable for a trip to Tiffany’s in New York.”
“This is to show you I’m serious about formalizing our partnership.” His gaze was full of love for her, and she knew hers reflected the same for him. “But there’s no rush. I know how important Buck’s Place is to you. Let’s focus on making those dreams a reality.”
“Are you the real Santa?”
He traced her lips with his fingertip. “No, but I’m yours.”
Her heart sighed.
He motioned to the box. “It’s time for Mr. Krinkles’ cookies.”
“And more mistletoe.”
Josiah smoothed her hair from her face. “Those cookies must be magic because you read my mind.”
She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
Best. Christmas. Ever.
The End
The Bar V5 Ranch Series
If you loved A Christmas Homecoming, get every book in the Bar V5 Ranch series!
Book 1: Home for Christmas
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Book 2: Mistletoe Magic
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Book 3: Kiss Me, Cowboy
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Book 4: Mistletoe Wedding
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Book 5: A Christmas Homecoming
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An Exclusive Excerpt from Home for Christmas
Melissa McClone
Copyright © 2014
"You didn't tell me the Bar V5 held the Guinness World Record for the longest driveway." Rachel Murphy stared out the windshield of her brother Tyler's 4x4 pickup. Against Montana's big sky—a gorgeous, cloudless, cornflower blue this December morning—the snow covering tree branches and mountaintops looked white enough to eat, like whipped cream or better yet meringue. "Guess you need to make sure guests can't run away from the ranch and hitch a ride back to town."
Ty tapped his thumb against the leather-steering wheel in time with the Christmas carol playing. "People come to the Bar V5 to escape the daily grind. But some folks can't survive without being connected 24x7 and are gone by the second day."
Rachel checked her mobile phone. Zero bars. Plenty of snow, but no cellular service. She couldn't decide who was crazier—her brother for choosing to live year round in the middle-of-nowhere or her for agreeing to spend December with him.
"Truth is, most guests hate to leave the Bar V5." Ty's satisfied smile and pride in his voice reaffirmed how much he loved his job at the working dude ranch and his life as a cowboy.
She couldn't be happier for him, even if she missed him. After their parents' deaths when she was ten, he'd put his life on hold, staying in Arizona and raising her. He'd waited until she was settled into culinary school before moving to Marietta, Montana seven years ago.
"We have repeat visitors each summer," he added.
"Summer being the operative word. I should have come then."
"It's not that bad."
"You're oblivious to the elements." She wiggled her freezing gloved fingers in front of the heater vent. The warm air helped a little. She hadn't been warm since she flew into Bozeman four days ago. Boy, did she miss Phoenix. She'd never complain about the heat again. "Montana's lovely, don't get me wrong, but I don't think there's been a temperature in the double digits since I arrived. I finally understand why people flock to Arizona in the winter. This is brutal."
"You get used to the cold and snow."
"I suppose, but this is nothing like home." Rachel needed this breather, a winter adventure in the northwest with her brother, but she'd been born in Arizona and lived there her entire life. Her mom and dad were buried there. She had no plans to move away from the desert. Ever. "Sunny and dry. Saguaros and Sun-Devils."
"Home is wherever the people you love are."
The affection in his voice chased away the cold. Tyler Murphy was over-protective and treated Rachel like she was twelve, not twenty-six, but she couldn't imagine Christmas—or life—without him. "Guess I'm home for the next three weeks."
"Damn straight. We'll make the most of the time and the holidays like we do e
very year."
"Except we'll be having our first white Christmas."
"It's going to be special."
Rachel nodded, but she couldn't get too excited. She kept thinking about the Phoenix bakery that no longer belonged to her. Last December, she'd worked crazy hours at two jobs to save money and loved every minute. This year felt... different. She swallowed a sigh.
Her brother reached across the bench seat and squeezed her hand. "Thanks for coming to Montana, kiddo."
Ty had always come to her for the holidays. Some years when he had extra money he flew, other times when he was low on cash he drove, but they had a great Christmas no matter the balance in their checking accounts. Decorating her tree, hanging lights on her apartment's balcony, counting down the days to December twenty-fifth with a chocolate-filled Advent calendar, hiking South Mountain on Christmas day...
But Ty had asked her to visit him in Montana this year. After her life fell apart—okay, exploded in an icky mess of sugar, spice and everything-not-so-nice—she'd jumped at the chance to escape and try to forget about being played a fool by so-called friends.
A hundred-pound ball of regret and hurt crushed her chest. Rachel forced a breath, then pasted on a smile. "How could I turn down an invitation to spend Christmas in a winter wonderland with my favorite brother?"
"I'm your only brother."
Ty followed up the old joke between them with a silly face, one that used to make her laugh when she felt like crying. So far during her stay, she'd cried only twice. Progress. "Then it's a good thing I didn't go to Wyoming."
He stuck out his tongue.
She did the same.
Getting away from Arizona and spending time with Ty was helping. She enjoyed seeing his life in Montana, rather than imagining it from phone calls, texts, and Skype chats. He had a room at the Bar V5 and also leased an apartment in the small town of Marietta. A refuge for times he wanted to get away from the ranch, he claimed. More likely, knowing her brother, when he wanted to get drunk at Grey's Saloon and not drive. Getting a ride to the ranch late at night must be impossible.
The truck's studded tires crunched against the snow. “All I Want For Christmas” played in the background, the jolly melody a counterpoint to her meh mood.
All Rachel wanted for Christmas was to get a do-over for the last six months ago. Not even Santa could manage that.
She'd been on her own, dealing with the betrayal and loss of her dream these past weeks, wishing there'd been someone special in her life, someone who lived closer than Montana, who she could have leaned on for support and who would have made her smile when all she wanted to do was cry. She hadn't dated much, but in hindsight, none of those guys had treated her better than the Darbys. She'd picked the same kind of boyfriends as she did business partners. Sad, but true.
Up ahead, the road curved toward a two-story log house decorated with white Christmas lights. Garland tied with red ribbon hung from the railing of a wide porch. Light glowed from inside wood pane windows, reminding her of a painting she'd seen on display in a Scottsdale gallery. She leaned forward, the seatbelt strap pressing into her shoulder. "Wow."
Ty parked. "That's what I said my first time here."
She'd visited the Bar V5's website to check out where her brother worked, but the photographs didn't capture the beauty and grand scale of the ranch house. The architecture made her think of a mountain lodge—high-end, luxurious accommodations—not a place where cowboys and guests in hats and spurs drank beer and ate at plank tables after a long day on the trail. "I get the appeal. Christmas card perfect."
"Wait until you see the inside. You'll love the kitchen."
She'd been struggling for three days trying to bake and construct gingerbread houses in Ty's tiny kitchen with a narrow oven and less than three feet of counter space. "Thanks for asking your boss if I could use his."
"Nate's a good guy. Knew he wouldn't mind."
Nate Vaughn owned the dude ranch. She'd never met him, but Ty had only good words to say about his boss. "I'll bake him something special as a thank you."
"He'll appreciate that."
Rachel opened the truck's door; eager to get to work and rid herself of the restlessness she'd felt being unemployed. The cold hit hard and fast, seeping into her bones in spite of her heavy parka, jeans, boots and wool beanie. With a shiver, she grabbed the box full of baking supplies from behind the seat. "Brrrr. It's colder than yesterday."
"This is nothing. Wait until February."
By then, she'd be back home, enjoying the nice weather and, if things worked out as planned this time, baking in her own shop. Maybe she would find a guy to date, a nice guy with manners who treated her well and met with her brother's approval.
Ty carried two bags full of groceries. "I can't believe you're working during your vacation. I wanted you to relax."
"Baking relaxes me."
"Starting a brand new business less than forty-eight hours after you arrived is not relaxing. It's insanity."
Rachel's boots sank into the snow, but her feet remained dry. The sales person at the sporting goods store had been honest when he'd sold her cold weather gear. That surprised her. Few people told the truth these days. "Maybe, but the gingerbread houses are selling faster than I can make them, thanks to your friends."
"You're working as much as I am."
"I might as well do something productive. If I can earn some money..."
"I've got money you can have."
"Thanks, but I'm capable of earning my own." She didn't need or want anyone's help, not even her brother's. She wanted Ty to treat her like an adult. If she took more of his money, whether a gift or a loan, he would keep thinking of her as his kid sister. "If I sell enough gingerbread to cover a lease deposit, I'll be one step closer to opening a bakery."
Of course she needed to revise her business plan and create new products, ones she wouldn't share with a soul this time.
"There are vacancies on Main Street. Front Avenue, too." Ty bypassed the porch, walking to the right side of the house toward a Dutch door with a window on top. A hanging electric lantern illuminated the area. "Forget about Phoenix. Open a place in Marietta."
"There are guest ranches in Arizona." They'd had this discussion for the past seven years, but seeing this place, she didn't blame him for staying in Montana. But still she played her part. "You should move back. Better weather. Longer tourist season."
Ty unlocked then opened the door. "Get inside where it's warm and see your new kitchen."
Rachel entered a small room. Benches with cubbies underneath, some empty, some filled with shoes, lined the wall on each side of her. Tall cabinets covered the wall behind her. A few cowboy hats, wool beanies, jackets, insulated pants and jeans hung from rows of hooks on the far wall.
She removed her boots and tucked them into a cubby. "Socks okay?"
"Fine." Ty motioned to a basket of lined moccasin-type shoes. "Unless you want slippers."
Rachel shrugged off her coat, thankful for the forced air heating set at a comfy temperature. "I'll stick with socks."
Carrying the box, she followed Ty through a doorway. The tile floor gave way to gorgeous wide-plank hardwood.
She looked up. Stopped. Gasped.
The most beautiful, most clean, most perfect kitchen she'd ever seen was on display in front of her.
Her brother laughed. "Knew you'd like it."
"Ty knows best, except I don't like it. I love it." She'd baked in a variety of commercial workspaces—culinary school, restaurants, cafes, bakeries, and a television studio. None came close to what was now at her disposal. The hickory cabinets, butcher-block counter, wood floors and log walls, and high ceiling gave the space a homey feel in spite of the top-of-the-line professional appliances and industrial stainless steel countertops. Her heart danced a jig. "I'm practically drooling."
He removed items from the grocery sacks. "As opposed to the crying in my kitchen."
"That crying wasn't about your apar
tment, and this will definitely cheer me up." Rachel set her box on the island's stainless steel top. Not one, but two professional ranges with so many burners she might have to try out a few fudge recipes. Maybe play with sugar. Warming drawers, two dishwashers, a wall-sized refrigerator, more than enough counter space to assemble the gingerbread houses and make do-it-yourself kits. She spun, giddy with excitement like a kid on Christmas morning. "This is a dream kitchen."
Ty's lopsided grin transported her back to sunny days of tubing on the Salt River, spring training baseball games, and late night swims in the apartment complex pool with the temperature still over a hundred. "Then you'd better put on your apron and get busy making your dream come true."
Talk about a nightmare. Nate Vaughn cursed under his breath. The brisk morning air cleared his head, but did nothing to soothe his frustrations. He removed his duffel bag and a Christmas wreath from the back of his pickup. Yes, he should be over what happened twelve hours ago.
But he wasn't.
He slammed the shell's hatch against the back gate.
Last night had been a total waste of time. His date, a twenty-nine year old lawyer named Addison from Helena, was pretty, smart, and fit. Her profile seemed ideal, except she'd left off one critical piece of information—her addiction to texting.
Five minutes after being seated at the finest steak house in town, he wanted to toss her mobile phone off the top of Copper Mountain. The date spiraled downhill from there. If he'd wanted to eat dinner by himself, he could have stayed home and saved the money he'd spent on gas and a motel in Helena. If he hadn't drunk one beer too many at a dive bar after saying goodbye to Addison, he would have driven home last night.
No more online dating. No more high-priced matchmaking services. No more blind dates.
He trudged to the front porch.
This cowboy was going back to finding a woman the old-fashioned way. He wasn't talking mail order brides like his great grandfather, either.
Nate would find a date in person.
Somewhere in the state of Montana there had to be a woman he wanted to date more than once. Hell, he might propose on the second date if things ever got that far. All he had to do was find her...
A Christmas Homecoming (Bar V5 Ranch) Page 19