A Tall, Dark Cowboy Christmas. Maisey Yates

difficult to just turn it off at a moment’s notice.

      The woman who walked through the front door had wild, carrot-colored curls, and pink, wind-chapped cheeks. Her smile was cheery and friendly, and McKenna was taken off guard when it was immediately aimed at her. “Hi,” she said. “Are you one of the guests?”

      “No,” McKenna said, reflexively wrapping her hands around her soup bowl and pulling it closer to her. “I work here.”

      “Oh,” she said. “I work with Bennett Dodge. At his veterinary clinic.”

      “Oh,” McKenna said. She had no idea that Bennett Dodge worked at a veterinary clinic. She could only assume that he was one of the brothers Grant had talked about. She didn’t like being caught off guard, and she didn’t like looking ignorant, so she chose not to ask any follow-up questions.

      “I’m Beatrix,” she said. “Beatrix Leighton. I’m also Lindy’s sister-in-law. Well. I’m her ex-sister-in-law. She used to be married to my brother. But now she’s married to Wyatt.”

      “That seems complicated,” McKenna said, somewhat interested against her will.

      “Not really,” Beatrix said. “My brother was a terrible husband. And I love Lindy, and all I want is for her to be happy. Damien didn’t make her happy. Wyatt does. That’s about as simple as it gets.”

      “I guess so.”

      “How long have you been here?”

      “About twenty minutes,” McKenna said, lifting another spoonful of soup to her lips.

      Beatrix laughed and walked over to the coffee station. “No. I meant at the ranch.”

      McKenna laughed. “Not much longer than that. I got here this morning.”

      “Wow,” Beatrix said, filling up a coffee mug and, much to McKenna’s chagrin, taking a seat at the table across from her. “Where you from?”

      “Out of town,” McKenna said.

      “Okay. How did you find out about the ranch?”

      “Oh, I kind of... Stumbled upon it.”

      “I think you’ll like it here. They’re all great.”

      “Well, that’s good to know.” From a total stranger. But McKenna wasn’t going to say that, because she was going to do her best not to alienate anyone in this place. It was warm, it was dry, there was food and coffee. While she planned her next move, there was no better place she could be. She had gone and stumbled into some kind of Hallmark Christmas movie, and she wasn’t going to question it. She was just going to accept the hospitality while she figured out how she was going to approach the Daltons.

      She needed an idea that was a little bit better than wandering onto the property and announcing that she was a secret half sister.

      If all else failed, she would definitely do that. But she was going to try to come up with something a little more sophisticated first.

      “Have you met Jamie yet?” her chatty new friend pressed.

      “No,” McKenna said.

      “She’s the sister. The only sister. She’s one of my best friends. I’m here because we’re going to go riding. You can come along.”

      McKenna shifted uncomfortably. “Thank you. But I have to keep working.” She also had no idea how to ride horses. She wasn’t sure she had ever been within thirty feet of one.

      “Some other time,” Beatrix said. “Jamie is a great guide. That’s what she does here.”

      For a moment, McKenna let herself wonder about the kind of alternate reality that might have existed where she could have... Lived on a ranch and ridden horses for a living. This whole place seemed like a sanctuary of some kind. And the whole family was just... Here. Not moving around. Not wondering where they might stay next. Not waiting for the other shoe to drop, or worrying about what might happen if a sour relationship went so sour that they had to leave it, and lose the roof over their head.

      “Sure,” McKenna said, but there was basically no way in hell.

      Still, she didn’t want to say that. She wasn’t sure why.

      But this was such a strange, easy connection made with someone who wasn’t afraid to smile at her, and didn’t seem to want anything from her. Those kinds of connections were few and far between. McKenna wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever had an experience quite like it. So the last thing she was going to do was ruin it by being unfriendly.

      “I’m sure I’ll see you around. I come by quite a bit.”

      “Okay,” she said, “see you around.”

      Beatrix stood, taking her coffee with her, offering a cheerful wave as she walked out the door, leaving McKenna alone with her soup.

      “What the hell is this place?” she asked the empty room, obviously not expecting an answer.

      She finished her soup and stood up, walking back to the kitchen. Right then, the back door opened, and Grant came in. She froze, her empty soup bowl in hand, as she stared at him for a moment, then blinked and looked away. “Hi,” she said.

      “Hi,” he returned, his voice gruff.

      “I was just having lunch.”

      “Good,” he said.

      “Do I just...wash the bowl... Or...?”

      His face remained immovable, taciturn, but he reached out and took the bowl from her hand, walking over to the sink. It was one of those large, commercial sinks with a detachable nozzle right on the spout. She wasn’t sure what they were called. Because she had certainly never lived in a place nice enough to have a kitchen that would have one. He set the bowl and spoon down in the sink, and then he did something truly unexpected. He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, and turned the water on.

      She just stood and watched while he filled the sink partway up with water, adding a little bit of soap. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, one dark brow lifting slightly as he did. He didn’t say anything.

      So she just watched him.

      His movements were direct. He didn’t waste any, she noticed. He was a no-nonsense kind of guy. His profile was strong, his jaw square. The dark whiskers that covered it only enhancing that sense of masculinity.

      Her eyes dropped down to his forearms. They were strong, the muscles there shifting and flexing as he moved. She imagined he lifted objects over fifty pounds often. At least, his physique seemed to suggest that he did.

      “Thank you,” she said, because she realized it was weird that she was standing there staring at him, and neither of them were saying anything.

      “Not a problem,” he said.

      “I could wash the bowl,” she said.

      “Yeah, but I would’ve had to show you how it all worked. So I might as well do it. Anyway, you can learn for next time.”

      “I’ll owe you. Next time you eat soup, I’ve got the bowls.”

      “Much obliged,” he said, nodding his head.

      Normally, she would have said that cowboy hats were cheesy, and in no way hot. But the way that he nodded just then, that black hat on his head... He was like some weird country-boy fantasy she’d never realized she had.

       You’re not going to make a fantasy out of the nice guy cleaning your dishes. You don’t need guy trouble and you know that. Men are terrible dead ends with muscles, and that’s all. Just make the most of this living situation and don’t screw it up.

      That didn’t mean she couldn’t look at him. Looking didn’t mean doing anything. So there.

      She wasn’t sure when she had gone from thinking of him as a grumpy asshole to