The Rancher's Christmas Proposal. Sherri Shackelford

eyes sent his words spilling forth in a hasty confession. “I live on an isolated ranch. We’re cut off from everything during the winter. It’s just my men and me.”

      Miss Spencer swayed forward. “Your ranch is isolated?”

      “It’s just south of Cimarron Springs. Completely off the map.”

      “That sounds quite remote.” Her voice grew breathless. “And inaccessible.”

      “Uh.” He wasn’t certain if there was a question buried in her statement. “Yes.”

      Shane reached for Owen, who clutched Miss Spencer’s skirts all the tighter. His chest constricted. He wasn’t leaving them with Mrs. Lund, even if that meant defying Abby’s wishes. Though she was the children’s closest relative, he’d known her for less than twenty minutes. In that short time he’d seen how truly unsuitable she was for the task.

       Twenty minutes.

      About the same amount of time he’d known Miss Spencer. His gaze lit on Owen’s lovely rescuer. She obviously feared something or someone, though she was doing her best to cover her anxiety. She wasn’t as excited about her travels as she’d have them believe. He sensed her independent nature and her stubborn resolve, but he had his own streak of obstinacy as well.

      For a moment he imagined the world from her viewpoint, and his thoughts left him unsettled. An unmarried woman without the protection of relatives had few resources. Traveling alone was dangerous, more so farther west. Did she know the trouble she courted? Was she aware of the admiring stares she evoked? A very male sense of protectiveness tightened his jaw.

      Mrs. Lund reached for Owen, who cowered away. “Come along,” she ordered. “We’ve wasted enough time.”

      The boy burst out crying.

      “No.” Shane spoke more forcibly than he’d intended. His gaze fastened on Miss Spencer. “I’ll find another way.”

Chapter Two

      Searching for a way to gently extract herself from the tense situation, Tessa took a discreet step back. She’d already caused enough trouble for Mr. McCoy, and the more she delayed, the more trouble she caused for herself as well.

      Mrs. Lund smoothed the hair from her temple. “I blame Abby for this. She never had a lick of sense. Always running with the wrong sorts of people. Look at what it got her. I suppose I should have known she’d marry someone cut from the same cloth. Blood will out, as they say.”

      Tessa gazed at the two beautiful children. “Yes, blood will out.” If the twins were any indication, Abby had not been cut from the same cloth as her sister. “By way of apology, perhaps I could distract the children while the two of you speak alone.”

      Shocked by her impulsive suggestion, she froze. Really, this was none of her business, and she was being terribly forward, but the poor widower looked as though he had a few choice words for his sister-in-law that were best exchanged in private.

      A muscle ticked in his cheek. “I believe you’re right, Miss Spencer. Mrs. Lund and I have a great deal to discuss.”

      “Call me Tessa.”

      “Then you must call me Shane.”

      His sister-in-law made an exaggerated show of straightening her hair and pressing her clothing with flattened palms. Tessa glanced warily between the two. There were fireworks coming, that much was certain. Mrs. Lund had best not underestimate her brother-in-law. Tessa sensed a spine of steel behind that even-tempered exterior.

      Clearing her throat, Tessa drew their attention. “There’s an ice cream parlor across the street. Why don’t I arrange a treat for the children and let you and Mrs. Lund have a moment in private?”

      Shane hesitated. “Are you certain?”

      “Positive.” Despite his assurances, she did feel somewhat responsible. When she’d thought Mrs. Lund might strike the boy, she’d seen red, and her instincts had taken over. Though she didn’t regret her actions, she had set this chain of events into motion. “We’ll take a seat by the window. That way, you can see us as well.”

      He gestured toward a young porter standing vigil near the ticket office. “Can you store the lady’s trunk?”

      “Right away, sir.”

      Tessa noted the cut of the freckle-faced porter’s clothing and took stock of his shiny new shoes. He was obviously well paid, which meant there was no reason for him to rifle through her belongings for valuables.

      “Thank you, Shane,” she said. “For your thoughtfulness.”

      “Enough.” Mrs. Lund snorted. “I don’t have all day while the two of you chatter about nonsense.”

      “I believe that’s my cue.” Tessa knelt and gathered the twins close. Emmett had always discouraged the wasting of one’s charm on the charmless. “Your dad says it’s all right if I take you for ice cream. Is that all right with you?”

      The two exchanged a glance.

      Owen nodded. “Ga.”

      “High praise indeed.”

      She led them across the street and took a table near the window. Their vantage was doubly useful since Shane could keep sight of his children, and she could keep watch for Dead Eye. She didn’t suppose outlaws frequented ice cream parlors. So long as she didn’t attract more attention to herself, she was safe. For the moment.

      Oblivious to the drama unfolding on their behalf, the twins were instead fascinated with the intricacies of the metal scrollwork chairs. Alyce knelt backward on the seat and traced her finger around the twisted heart pattern. Attempting to climb up as well, Owen pushed her aside. Alyce shoved him back.

      “There’s no need to fight.” Tessa scraped another chair closer. “Wouldn’t you like your very own seat, Owen?”

      He squinted, then crossed his arms over his chest and stubbornly glared at his sister.

      Shrugging, Tessa sat and pivoted her legs beneath the table. “How very nice it is to have a chair all to oneself. Makes one feel very grown up.”

      From the corner of her eye, she watched as Owen carefully rested his ball on the table and claimed his own seat. Though pleased with her success, she kept her emotions hidden lest Owen catch on.

      Only a few tables in the parlor were occupied, showcasing the black-and-white tile floor and the blue-and-white-checkered curtains hanging from the windows. During the height of the summer season, the shop must burst at the seams. With a slight chill in the fall air, business had obviously slowed.

      She studied the list of choices. “I believe the special today is chocolate. Chocolate is a fine choice, on any occasion.”

      After taking their order, the grandmotherly shop owner clasped her hands. “My, but your children are well behaved. And so lovely, too. If you don’t mind me saying so, they’re the spitting image of you, ma’am.”

      Without waiting for an answer, the woman circled back around the counter.

      Tessa tugged her lower lip between her teeth. Explaining her actual relationship with the children seemed unnecessarily complicated. She’d always adored children, though life with Emmett hadn’t afforded much opportunity to be around them. Considering her current predicament, she didn’t suppose there’d be much opportunity in the future either. A pall fell over her once more. Always before she’d had hope, but the passing of time had relentlessly drained her optimism.

      She rolled the ball across the table and Owen stopped it before it tumbled off. Alyce found the game more entertaining than tracing the metal scrollwork and joined in the fun. The task took a great deal of concentration and giggling.

      An elderly couple seated nearby watched their antics with indulgent smiles.