The Rancher's Mistletoe Bride. Jill Kemerer

each month. “Let’s see... I’m assuming the calves have all been weaned?”

      “Yes, they were actually weaned by the time I moved in. We’re keeping a close eye on them. Getting ready to sell. I looked over your winter feed program. We’ll continue your father’s plan this year.”

      “As opposed to what plan?” She enjoyed watching him as he talked. Cattle seemed to loosen his tongue; animation lit his face.

      “The calf sale date is on the books for the second week in December.” He brought his hand to the back of his neck. “But prices will rise after the new year, and if we spent the money to feed the calves longer, they’d weigh more, and we’d get a bigger return on investment.”

      The words bigger return on investment were precisely what she loved to hear. “Do you have numbers?”

      He opened his folder and handed her a sheet of paper. A spreadsheet held the number of cattle, the amount of feed needed through the winter and the estimated calf sale price for every month until March.

      “But what about the drought? Will we have enough hay stored to feed them along with the rest of the cattle?”

      “We would have to supplement with outside feed.” He sounded gruff.

      “Which, I’m assuming, would be expensive.” She wasn’t sure how to read him, so she studied the spreadsheet more carefully. “What you’re suggesting—do you think it would be smarter to wait a few months to sell the calves?”

      He didn’t make eye contact. “I think you should do what’s best for the ranch.”

      “Which is?”

      “There are pros and cons to both.”

      Lexi tapped the desktop with her fingernails. He didn’t seem the wishy-washy type, so why was he dithering? Maybe he’d taken her declaration about having the final say in all decisions personally.

      Or maybe he wasn’t the take-charge guy she needed for the ranch after all.

      Jerry had assured her they had enough hay stored to feed the cattle this winter. But feeding additional calves? Not likely.

      “We’ll stay on Daddy’s plan this year.” Tipping her chin up, she asked, “What else do I need to know?”

      He shifted his jaw before filling her in on the state of the fences, the repairs he and the hands were working on, and other winter preparations.

      “Are you having any trouble with the employees?” She folded her hands and leaned forward across the desk.

      “I’m keeping an eye on Jake.”

      “Jake?” She twisted her lips, trying to remember a Jake.

      “The kid you recently hired. He’s part-time.”

      “Has he done something?”

      Clint shrugged. “A gut instinct. I have a zero-tolerance policy for breaking the rules.”

      “No three strikes you’re out?” she teased.

      “No.” He didn’t crack a smile.

      Hmm... Hard to tell if he had a sense of humor hiding under all his toughness. She tried to picture a kid named Jake again. She made a point to interact with all the employees of Weddings by Alexandra, and she didn’t even know all the people working on her land. It was time to change that.

      “Where will you be this afternoon?”

      “South pasture. Riding the fence line.”

      “I’ll join you. It’s been a while since I’ve ridden the property. You can introduce me to the crew when we saddle up.”

      He opened his mouth as if to protest, then nodded. “Meet me at the stables after dinner.”

      She’d lived in Denver long enough to think of the midday meal as lunch, but around here, she’d better get used to thinking of it as dinner again. She rose to see him out. On his way past the living room, Clint stopped and looked around. The muscle in his cheek flickered.

      “Is something wrong?”

      “No.” Then he tipped his hat to her and left.

      What was the tension in him all about?

      Was he mad she’d decided to stick with her father’s plan?

      Her phone showed six missed calls and eight texts. She didn’t have time to worry about his feelings. Back in her office, she opened her email account to twenty-six fresh messages. Looking over her schedule, she exhaled in relief. The video conference call wasn’t until tomorrow. She’d squish everything in to take an hour or two off this afternoon. She hadn’t ridden Nugget, her favorite horse, since May.

      A vision of her and Daddy riding together filled her mind, and she willed away the knot in her throat. Had he been thinner the last time she saw him? Shouldn’t there have been warning signs cancer was killing his body?

      How many times had she thought she should call and check up on him? But she’d put it off. Too busy replying to texts and placing orders and calling clients.

      And now it was too late.

      She squeezed her eyes shut.

      Lord, I don’t know how to get through this. Every time I think of Daddy, I can’t breathe.

      She curled her fingers into her palms. Her father hadn’t raised a coward. He’d always told her two things: “Keep your word good” and “Don’t forget to close the gate.”

      She had a feeling she’d offended Clint earlier, and she couldn’t afford to lose him, not when he’d taken the weight of worrying about the ranch off her back. She hoped riding the land where she’d spent so many hours with her father wouldn’t be too difficult and the tears she’d suppressed for weeks stayed down under, where they belonged.

      * * *

      Clint ignored the harsh wind on his face and admired Nugget, the fifteen-hand palomino Lexi rode. A beauty of a horse. And the woman riding it? Could have been born in the saddle.

      Lexi was intriguing. Sophisticated, yet completely at ease with all the ranch employees she’d shaken hands with before they’d ridden out. A shrewd businesswoman, yet utterly feminine. Sitting in her office earlier had felt like sitting in the center of a wedding bouquet. He’d never felt so out of place in his life. He preferred his ranch office with tools, rope, rags and the smells of earth and cattle.

      Once again, the state of her house picked at his conscience. He’d noticed it all again when he’d left their meeting. The dripping faucet. The torn screen. The worn, neglected air of the place. The missing stones from the fireplace.

      The fireplace flue probably hadn’t been cleaned out in years. What if she wanted to build a fire? It could be dangerous.

      Not my problem. I’m her employee. And my place on this ranch will be secure as long as I keep my mouth shut and the operation running smoothly.

      The longer he worked on the ranch, the more impressed he became. He hadn’t felt this alive in a long time. But as remarkable as the ranch was, its income and expenses were precarious this year.

      Jerry had told him all about RJ Harrington’s plans to produce and store hay to sell throughout the country, but Clint didn’t see how they could afford to buy the farm equipment this winter.

      The prices of cattle lately were low. Too low.

      Should he have urged her to wait to sell the calves? When Lexi had asked his opinion earlier, he’d blanked. The decision had felt as important as pressing the button to launch a nuclear bomb. He’d mentally gone back to the day when he’d lost his land, the day he’d stopped trusting himself. And instead of telling her what he really thought, he’d backed down.

      Lexi deserved better than that.

      He glanced at her again. She