A Snowbound Cowboy Christmas Page 3

  In hindsight, they couldn’t have been more opposites of each other. It’s what had attracted him to her in the first place. She wasn’t a big city girl like Emma, but she was definitely suburbia. Dylan had made a name for himself training horses and he had set aside every penny he’d made, earning interest. When he’d met Lauren, she’d been divorced for a solid two years already. She had two kids—a boy and a girl, ages three and five. Sweet as the day was long. He loved those kids as if they were his own. And they loved him enough to call him dad. It made her leaving that much harder.

  Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if their marriage had started on a ranch. If he had let her know from the beginning that this was the life he wanted. Instead, he had moved into her traditional four-bedroom home in Bozeman. The city was touristy, rugged and quaint all in the same breath. He had found work but felt suffocated living in their cookie-cutter housing development. The only time he had felt at home during their marriage was when he was working on someone else’s ranch. So, when Jax had presented him with the opportunity to partner in Silver Bells, he jumped on it.

  Lauren had followed him faithfully, despite her protests. The day they sold her house, she bawled like he’d never seen before. That had been his first sign they may not last. Dylan hadn’t touched any of the money from that sale. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to. That decision had given Lauren the financial freedom to leave.

  The kids had been seven and nine when they moved to the ranch. They had been excited at first, but had quickly grown bored of ranch life when they realized they couldn’t run down the street to play with their friends. Lauren missed her book club and Board of Education administration position. She’d accepted an office job in town, but she couldn’t relate to the other women and their laid-back country lifestyle. The connection just wasn’t there.

  She had stuck it out for a year. An actual year to the day. And then that was it. He hadn’t tried to stop her when she left. There had been no point. She was better off without him. Happier, at least. And the last he’d heard, she had married a Bozeman businessman and had returned to living in a cookie-cutter housing development with manicured lawns and white vinyl fences.

  He didn’t blame her. He blamed himself. He’d made her believe he was somebody other than he was. It didn’t make losing her and the kids any easier. Since he hadn’t legally adopted the children, he had no claim to them. He’d been their father for four years and he missed it as much today as he had when she’d left.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a real live cowboy at work.”

  Emma’s voice startled him and he almost impaled himself on the shovel.

  “Somebody has to do it around here since you ran off my men.” Dylan blew out a hard breath. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Yeah, you kind of did. But I get it. No harm, no f—What is that smell?”

  “Manure.”

  “Does it always stink so bad?”

  Dylan started laughing so hard he had to brace himself against the stall door. “It’s pretty rank, but I think it might smell stronger because you’re pregnant. But don’t throw up in this stall, I just finished cleaning it.”

  “I’m way past the morning-sickness stage. Thank God,” she mumbled while trying to hold her breath.

  A gentleman would have offered to walk away from the manure-filled wheelbarrow so she could breathe again, but he wasn’t feeling very gentlemanly. Maybe she would hate the smell enough and wait for him in the stable office until he could find someone to drive her back to the lodge.

  “What can I do for you, Emma?” He purposely walked close to her as he passed so she could get a good whiff of him, knowing he wasn’t playing very fair. “How did you get out here, anyway?”

  “Your brother gave me a ride.”

  “Wes is here?” Dylan tugged off his gloves and yanked his phone out of his pocket. “That son of a— He should be the one doing this, not me. Did he come in with you?”

  Emma shook her head. “No. He’s plowing the ranch roads. I don’t think he plans on working in the stables right now.”

  At least his brother had decided to work after all. “I love how I own the ranch and I’m the one doing the grunt work. So, I guess now you’re stuck out here with me. I don’t have time to drive you back and I certainly don’t have time to entertain you.”

  “I’m not asking you to entertain me.”

  “Why are you out here, Emma?”

  “Kindly lose the attitude. I realize I’m not your favorite person. All I’m asking for is a couple hours of your time to hear my proposal.”

  “You have a lot of nerve, sweetheart.” He couldn’t believe her attitude. “I know all about your plans for the ranch.”

  “No, Dylan, you don’t. You think you do, but you don’t. How do I know? Because I never pitched them to you, and Jax told me you didn’t want to listen to him. You might feel differently if we talked about it.”

  “As you can already see, I don’t have a couple hours to spare.” Dylan tossed his shovel on top of the wheelbarrow and began pushing it down the stable corridor. “Honestly, I’m finding your insistence insulting.”

  “I—I never meant to offend you.” Emma backed away from him and straight into one of the open stall doors.

  “Be careful.” He sighed. “Listen, I know you’re just doing your job. I apologize for my attitude. You being here is bringing up some memories I would rather have kept in the past. And before you ask, no, I don’t want to talk about them.”

  “Is this about your ex-wife?”

  Dylan abruptly released the handles of the wheelbarrow, almost causing it to tip over. “How the hell do you know about that?”

  “Jax told me your wife and kids left because you moved them out here and that’s a big reason why you didn’t want to sell the ranch.”

  “You’re half-right. My wife and her kids. And there’s more to my not wanting to sell than that. Here I thought my uncle wasn’t much of a gossip. Turns out I was wrong.”

  “Jax cared for you very much. Part of his reason for selling was so you could have your freedom again.”

  Dylan tugged off his gloves. “Well, doesn’t that just beat all? This ranch was my freedom. My home. By taking it away from me, he was taking away the last breath I had. Did he really say that to you?”

  Emma nodded slowly, closing the distance between them. “He thought if you had a fresh start on your own ranch without the debt and problems of this place hanging over your head that you’d be able to move on.”

  Dylan recoiled at her words. “Oh, you’re good.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Your job is to convince me to sell and you’re using the information my uncle told you against me.” He had known she was a shrewd businesswoman; he hadn’t known she’d take it this far. “I already know my uncle’s final wish was to sell this place. Doesn’t mean I’m going to honor it, and your charms will not convince me otherwise.”

  “You want to be mad at me for being here? Go right ahead. You want to be mad that Jax died? Do it. Let it out. Scream, shout, kick something. It’s okay to be mad at the past. But please don’t insult me in the process.”

  Emma stormed out of the stables, leaving him alone with nothing but a pile of manure.

  * * *

  “THE NERVE OF that man,” Emma grumbled to herself as she traipsed down the freshly-plowed road toward the lodge. She could just about make out the roof of the building from where she stood. At least there was a lull in the storm and it had stopped snowing. While the exercise felt good, her feet were beginning to ache and her fingers were cold. She reached inside her pocket for her phone. Maybe if she called the lodge, somebody could come get her.

  She pulled off a glove with her teeth and began to scroll through her contacts when she heard an engine coming up behind her. She s
tepped off the road and into a pile of cold, wet snow that instantly seeped down into her duck boot moccasins. After she’d let out a few choice curse words, the snowmobile stopped in front of her and cut the engine.

  Dylan.

  “I don’t want to talk to you.” Emma stomped onto the path in a vain attempt to shake the snow from her shoes. She only succeeded in shaking it farther down toward her toes.

  “I don’t want to talk to you either, but I’m not going to allow you to freeze out here. You were crazy to think you could walk back to the lodge in this weather.”

  Emma wanted to ignore him, but she was too cold and no amount of pride was worth freezing over. “I was just calling the lodge to have someone come and get me.”

  “I’m your somebody. Hop on.”

  “Hop on where?” While the snowmobile was a decent size, there was no way her and her belly would fit behind him. At least not without her holding on to him for dear life.

  Dylan scooted forward to make more room. “Get on. I’ll go slow, I promise.”

  Emma raked her hands down her face. She had never been snowmobiling in her life and she didn’t think her doctor back home in Chicago would approve of this little outdoor activity. She climbed on behind him and gripped his hips.

  “Wrap your arms around me,” Dylan said over his shoulder.

  “I can’t. My stomach is in the way,” Emma muttered.

  She didn’t hear or see Dylan laughing, but she felt his body reverberating against hers. She smacked his arm. “It’s not funny. You try being pregnant.”

  “I’m sorry.” He continued to laugh. “Can you hold on to my shoulders?”

  Emma slid her hands up his back, relishing the solid muscle beneath her palms. “I can handle that.”

  “Apparently.” Dylan arched against her as she squeezed his shoulders.

  “You stink.” His odor was probably her only saving grace. If he had smelled musky and manly, she might not have been able to control herself. And she wouldn’t have been able to blame it on her pregnancy hormones.

  By the time they reached the lodge, she needed another change of clothes. She didn’t want to sit down to dinner smelling like... Dylan. She wanted to make a graceful escape from the back of the snowmobile—unfortunately getting on was easier than getting off. The story of her pregnancy.

  After Dylan’s assistance, she managed to break free of him. “Thank you for the ride.” She headed into the lodge. She may have been grateful for the ride, but she was still mad at him.

  “Emma, wait.”

  She didn’t bother to stop. She’d had enough of Dylan Slade for one day.

  Chapter Three

  Emma hadn’t realized she’d slept through dinner until she heard a soft knock at the door. If her stomach hadn’t been grumbling, she would’ve ignored it. She couldn’t deal with another minute of Dylan this evening. She checked the peephole, surprised to see Sandy standing in the hallway holding a tray.

  She unlocked the door and eased it open. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep.”

  “That’s okay. I figured that’s what happened so I brought you dinner. May I come in?” Emma stepped aside as the petite brunette entered the room and set the tray on the small table near the window. “I wanted to apologize for the way I spoke to you earlier. I’m a little frazzled with my Christmas Day wedding coming up. It’s no excuse, though.”

  “Believe me, I realize I’m the enemy. We’re on opposite sides. It’s cool. I do hope you have the wedding of your dreams.”

  “Thanks.” Sandy tucked a piece of hair behind her ear that had worked its way loose from her French braid. “There’s a little bit of everything on here. If you want more, just ring downstairs. I see Dylan brought you up the Christmas tree. I know he’s a little gruff on the outside, but he really is a big teddy bear once you get to know him.”

  “Somehow I don’t think anyone’s going to mistake Dylan for a squishable stuffed animal anytime soon.”

  “Then I guess you won’t mind me telling you he was the one who fixed your tray.” Sandy winked as she walked into the hallway. “I live here in the lodge. Extension 307. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, I will.” Emma closed the door.

  Dylan fixed her tray? She eyed it warily. “I wonder what he did to it.”

  She lifted the plate to remove the plastic wrap and found a folded note.

  I’m sorry for earlier.

  Dylan.

  Well, that was unexpected. The smell of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy got the best of her. And then she saw them...butter beans. He remembered. There was also a huge slab of chocolate cake, macaroni and cheese and a slice of meatloaf. Classic comfort food. She’d never desired it until this very moment. And she planned to eat every ounce of it or explode trying.

  Halfway through her meal, her text-message tone sounded from the other side of the table. She’d forgotten to turn her phone back off after calling her best friend, Jennie, to help forget her argument with Dylan. She wanted to ignore it, but she was already full anyway. She reached for her phone and tapped the screen to see a message from her boss.

  Conference call tomorrow. 1 p.m. Chicago time. Want update.

  Her boss had a penchant for caveman text messaging and emails. She didn’t know if she was supposed to call him or he was supposed to call her. Either way, it wouldn’t be a good conversation. At least it gave her the morning to prepare for it. She would have preferred to wait until after Dylan heard her proposal, if she could ever convince him to give her half a chance. Maybe her boss could offer some insight on how to change Dylan’s mind, although that felt as if she were admitting she didn’t have any ideas of her own.

  Emma would have preferred staying in her room for the rest of the night, but she didn’t think Silver Bells had tray pick up, especially since they didn’t offer room service. While she was down there, she’d find out about laundry service or the use of a washing machine and dryer.

  Carrying her tray down a flight of stairs proved to be more precarious than she’d anticipated. She couldn’t wait for her center of gravity to be back where it belonged. By the time she reached the kitchen, she’d broken out into a cold sweat. Thankfully, she hadn’t made a scene by dropping the tray along the way.

  A group of around twenty people had gathered near the fireplace while someone played guitar and sang “Jingle Bell Rock.” She loved that song. It had always put her in a festive holiday mood. She walked toward the small crowd, singing along until she caught a glimpse of who was playing. Dylan. Of course, it had to be Dylan.

  A slow easy grin settled over his face as his eyes met hers. He continued to sing, and for a moment, everyone else disappeared. When the song ended, their applause jolted her back to reality. Good thing it was only a fantasy, because the last thing she wanted was to be alone with Dylan again. They’d kissed and made up and that was good enough for her. Kissed? No! She could not think about kissing Dylan Slade.

  Absolutely not.

  Not going to happen.

  Not even in her dreams.

  Okay, so she had kissed him in her dreams once before. But that was then and this was now.

  He began playing Brooks & Dunn’s “Hangin’ ’Round the Mistletoe,” which sounded dangerously sexy when Dylan sang it. He had a great voice. It didn’t help that he still hadn’t broken eye contact. She wanted to look away first, but she couldn’t will herself to do so. That was until she noticed everyone else was staring at her. Great. Now she felt even more self-conscious. And then she realized why she was the center of attention. Hanging above her head was none other than a sprig of mistletoe. Double crap!

  * * *

  DYLAN ENDED THE song to a round of applause. He placed the house guitar back on the stand where anyone was welcome to play it. Emma had latched herself on to two other
female guests, probably to avoid him. And who could blame her.

  The three of them disappeared, leaving him to wonder if he would see Emma again tonight. Dylan attempted to mingle with the ranch’s guests. They didn’t have a full house, but they had managed to fill almost a dozen rooms. Instead of making small talk or thinking about Emma, he needed to focus on finding a new investor. The road closures meant the kids living on the ranch wouldn’t have school. He’d bribe them to muck the stalls tomorrow if his brother didn’t show up for work again. There was no point in saying anything to Wes, because he never stayed around long enough for it to matter. That didn’t mean the responsibility of the horses was going away anytime soon.

  He still couldn’t get what Emma had told him about Jax out of his head. Had his uncle truly believed selling the ranch was in Dylan’s best interest? It would have been different if Lauren had left a few months ago. Then maybe he could have salvaged his marriage. In the end, it probably would have only been a temporary bandage. Sometimes you couldn’t fix what wasn’t meant to be.

  When Emma reappeared, he could have sworn his heart quickened. But that was impossible, unless it was out of aggravation. A part of him wanted to find out what else Jax had said to her about him, but the other part figured he was better off not knowing. Sandy and Luke interrupted his thoughts when they carried out two large trays of s’mores fixings and told the guests to grab their jackets and follow them outside.

  A fire was already burning in the stone fire pit behind the lodge. A light snow continued to fall as flames danced between him and Emma while Sandy showed her how to make the melted chocolate, toasted marshmallow and graham cracker sandwich. For someone as worldly as he thought she was, he found it funny that she had never made s’mores before. Then again, she was a city girl.