The Surprise Christmas Bride. Maureen Child

He leaned back against the kitchen wall, crossed his feet at the ankles and stared up at the overhead light fixture. Shaped like a wagon wheel, the chandelier held six globe-covered lightbulbs, which shone brightly against the late-afternoon gloom.

      He shifted his gaze to the storm raging outside the window. Thanks to the deal he’d just managed to pull off, he told himself, not even the torrential rain or predicted snow could ruin his good mood.

      “Jake…”

      “Oh! Sorry, Annie. Just thinkin’.”

      “Don’t strain yourself.”

      “Very funny. Maybe I won’t give you that hint, after all.”

      “Jake Parrish, if you don’t…”

      He laughed and pushed away from the wall. “OK, you win. Here’s your hint. It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time.”

      A lengthy silent pause. Then, “that’s it?” Outrage colored her voice.

      “That’s it. Until tomorrow.”

      “I said it before and I’ll say it again. You’re an evil man, Jake. And you’re going to hell.”

      “Probably. But that’s all right. At least all of my friends will be there with me.”

      “Count on it.”

      In answer he gave her a deep-throated malevolent chuckle. He wasn’t surprised to hear her hang up in disgust.

      Oh, he knew his little sister would find a way to make him pay for dragging this out. But dammit, it would be worth it. He’d waited a long time for this. And he wanted to enjoy every minute of it.

      He hung up the phone, walked across the room to the gray granite countertop and set his coffee cup down. Then he leaned forward to peer through the rain-spattered glass at the growing darkness. This was just the beginning, he told himself.

      With the conclusion of this deal, his long-held plans for the Parrish ranch were complete at last. Now he could focus on the horse-breeding program he’d been thinking about for months.

      Anything was possible.

      A slow grin tipped up one corner of his mouth as he took a quick look around the kitchen. Modern appliances, a gleaming Spanish-tile floor and a kiva-shaped fireplace in the corner made the kitchen something of a showplace. Not that he could do anything more complicated than a pot of coffee, grilled cheese sandwiches and an assortment of microwavable delights.

      That didn’t matter, though. For Jake had made good on his promises. He had turned the ranch into a business prosperous enough to pay off all the cosmetic changes to the house that his ex-wife had insisted on. And despite Linda’s efforts, she hadn’t managed to empty his pockets.

      Jake frowned slightly at the memory of the woman he had allowed to make a fool of him, but then he dismissed all thoughts of her. Instead, he concentrated on the ranch. His accomplishment. His triumph. The place was now a far cry from how it had looked while he and Annie had been growing up.

      In his mind’s eye he could still see the antique stove his mother had somehow coaxed into working long beyond the time it should have. If he tried hard enough, he could make out the shadow of the battered pine table where he and then Annie had done their school-work. The same table where the family had gathered at suppertime for loud long discussions on everything from the Chicago Cubs to Darwin.

      Jake blinked, and in place of that old familiar table was the heavy Santa Fe style polished-oak dining set Linda had purchased three years before. He frowned thoughtfully. True, the ranch hadn’t had much in the way of comforts when he was a kid. But there was always enough love.

      The one thing his new and improved ranch house lacked.

      Jake shook his head and reached for his coffee cup. He took one last drink of the still-hot brew, then slammed the cup back down onto the counter. Keep your mind on business, he told himself. Thoughts of love and what-might-have-beens wouldn’t get his work done.

      And thoughts of Linda would only give him an ulcer.

      “Besides,” he said aloud into the empty room, “you’ve got to check the fencing before nightfall.” With the rain and the howling wind, he couldn’t risk wires coming down and his stock wandering out onto the roads.

      Besides, if the weatherman was right for a change and the first snow of the season was really headed in that night, then he’d best keep ahead of the chores.

      He snatched his rain slicker and hat from the pegs near the back door and pulled them on, purposely keeping his back to the shiny sterile room. The sooner he was started, the sooner he’d be back. With a microwaved pizza, a beer and a front-row seat for the football game on TV.

      If he kept the volume loud enough, he just might be able to convince himself that he wasn’t really lonely.

      “I know just how you feel,” Casey told the little animal, and reached down to grab another handful of wet white lace. Draping the fabric across the calf’s shivering body, she hovered over him, blocking most of the rain with her back. She stroked his neck and looked into his sad brown eyes. “It’s no fun being cold and wet and alone, is it, pal?”

      The calf snorted.

      “Gesundheit,” Casey said automatically, then blew fruitlessly at a sopping-wet lock of blond hair hanging in front of her right eye. She didn’t want to let go of the calf long enough to shove her hair and what was left of her veil off her face. The poor little thing was so scared it would probably take off, and she’d never manage to catch it again, running in the mud.

      The trembling calf shifted position, leaning into her. She staggered under its surprising weight and looked back into those big brown eyes. “Do you know something? Your eyes are a lot like my fiancé’s. Or rather, my ex-fiancé’s.” She frowned slightly before adding, “But don’t worry, I won’t hold that against you. They look better on you, anyway.”

      The animal snorted and bawled again.

      “I felt like crying myself earlier,” she murmured sympathetically. “You might not know this, but I was supposed to get married today.”

      Her little friend shivered heavily.

      “I know. It gives me cold chills just to think about it now.” Casey leaned down and rubbed her cheek against the back of the animal’s head. Her feet felt like two blocks of muddy ice and she was beginning to lose feeling in her fingers altogether. Stupid weather. Trying to ignore her own discomfort, she kept talking to her little friend. “The worst part was telling everyone that there wouldn’t be a wedding. You should have seen their faces, pal.”

      He mooed quietly.

      “Who?” she asked with a choked laugh. “The people in the church, of course.” She sniffed. “And my parents. It’s a good thing for Steven that his note said he was going to Mexico. If my father had been able to get his hands on that jerk…” She sighed and lifted her head to look at her new friend again. “It’s not every day a girl gets jilted, you know. Don’t you think I should be feeling worse than I am about all this?”

      The calf shook its head.

      “I don’t, either,” Casey’s fingers stroked the animal’s rough yet smooth hide. She shivered hard before saying, “Now don’t be offended because I said your eyes were like Steven’s. It’s not your fault, after all. Besides,” she pointed out with a wry smile, “you seem to have a much more pleasant personality.”

      The calf moved and stomped on her toes.

      She yelped and dragged her foot out from under the animal’s hoof. “You dance like Steven, too.”

      The wind kicked up, snatching at her veil and flinging it out around her. “I know it’s hard to believe now,” she told the squirming calf, “but a few hours ago, I looked pretty good.”

      An image leaped in her brain. Of her, standing at the