A Tall, Dark Cowboy Christmas. Maisey Yates

her a smile. Maybe nice was the wrong word.

       Good.

      He seemed like one of those mythical good men that she hadn’t ever really been convinced existed.

      Even the long-lost father that she wanted to meet couldn’t actually be that good of a man. He had knocked her mother up and left her alone. He had a whole family, which she certainly wasn’t part of. And sure, maybe he didn’t know about her. But still, a guy running around indiscriminately spreading his seed was hardly going to go into the good man category.

      There was something about Grant that just seemed good.

      Of course, she was a terrible judge of character. Or maybe she couldn’t be much of a judge at all, because she tended to need to ally herself with whoever was willing. That meant sometimes putting blinders on out of necessity.

      McKenna was very good with necessity.

      “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I might even wash two soup bowls for you.”

      “I couldn’t begin to accept such generosity.”

      “I’m very generous,” she said, a smile touching her lips.

      Grant didn’t smile at all. She studied his eyes, kind of a dark green that reminded her of the trees that surrounded the property, trying to find a hint of humor. A glimmer of something. The man was unreadable.

      “I have some work to do,” he said. “Need to get lunch and then get out.”

      He was dismissing her. Which was fine. She didn’t care. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next. I cleaned all of the cabins.”

      “Why don’t you get some rest? Come back in here at dinnertime and get something to eat. You can worry about doing a full day tomorrow.”

      “Okay.”

      The door to the kitchen opened, and Wyatt came in. “Hey,” he said, greeting her first, then nodding at his brother. “How’s the day going?”

      “Fine,” McKenna returned.

      “Good. Hey, we’re all going out to the bar in town tonight. Do you want to come?”

      She was blindsided by that question. She blinked, not quite able to process the fact that her new boss had just invited her out for drinks. And suddenly, she wanted to crawl out of her skin. “Thank you,” she said, edging toward the door. “But I think I’m going to... Just rest. It’s been... It’s been a hell of a few weeks.”

      “Is there anything we can help with?” Wyatt looked genuinely concerned. Grant’s expression was like a wall of granite.

      “You’re helping enough. Giving me a place to stay is more than I...” Her throat tightened, and she did her best to speak around it. “Anyway. Thanks for inviting me. I’ll—”

      “Grant will meet you in here tomorrow,” Wyatt said. “Breakfast time. We’re a bunch of early risers.”

      “Six a.m.,” Grant said, those unfathomable green eyes settling on her. “Don’t be late.”

      McKenna nodded, and backed out the door, tripping down the path and heading toward her cabin. Her cabin.

      A wave of emotion swelled up in her chest. Less than twenty-four hours ago she had been curled up on the cold, damp floor of an abandoned structure out in the middle of the woods and now she had... People talking to her. People offering to help her.

      A group of people inviting her out for drinks.

      When she’d been younger she had something of a social group, but the last couple of years...

      Everything had been so grim and stripped back, and she wasn’t sure she had even fully realized it until... Well, until she had been in Grant’s truck this morning accepting the fact that she was homeless, and without very many options.

      She entered the code to her cabin, pushed open the door and shut it, leaning against it for a moment. She let her head fall back, closing her eyes. It was completely quiet. Nothing but the sound of furniture settling over the hardwood floors.

      She pushed off from the door and walked down the hall toward the bathroom, stripping her clothes off as she went. She turned on the water and waited for it to heat up. Then she got inside and stood beneath the spray. She let the hot water roll over her face. Something inside of her chest cracked. Everything felt too big to be contained. She kept her face tilted up, steadfastly refusing to find out if there were tears running down her cheeks, or if it was just the shower.

      It made her feel better to blame the shower. So she would leave it at that.

      And tomorrow she would report for work at 6:00 a.m. By then, hopefully, she would be done with all this emotional crap.

      When she got out of the shower she changed into her pajamas—something she hadn’t done since going on the road, because pajamas didn’t feel like the kind of clothes you could make a quick getaway in—and crawled into bed.

      She felt that same wave of emotion begin to build inside her again. She closed her eyes. It was early, way too early to be getting into bed. But she was exhausted. Drained.

      And for the first time in a very long time, McKenna Tate closed her eyes and let herself fall all the way asleep.

      * * *

      GRANT LEANED BACK in his chair and surveyed the surroundings. People were filtering into the Gold Valley saloon in large numbers, the end-of-workday crowd eager to get that first drink into their systems. Anything to begin that relaxation process after a day spent at the desk. He could remember that well.

      His work didn’t stress him out now. He drank for other reasons.

      It surprised him how relieved he was that McKenna had not taken his brother’s invitation to join them tonight. She made him feel tense. On a good day he might try to make excuses as to why that might be. Lie to himself a little bit. But today wasn’t an especially good day. He couldn’t pretend it was a mystery why.

      She was beautiful. She was a woman. He wasn’t accustomed to being in proximity to a woman he found not just pretty but attractive.

      Beatrix Leighton was around all the time, particularly now that she had started work at Bennett’s veterinary clinic, and had made fast friends with Jamie. She was cute, and he recognized that. But he wasn’t attracted to her. When Lindy had started coming around to the property when she and Wyatt were working on their joint venture between the winery and ranch, before the two of them had gotten together, he had known she was pretty. Closer to his age than Bea, and closer to his type—assuming he had a type—and still, she hadn’t made his skin feel too tight.

      His younger brother Bennett, and Bennett’s wife, Kaylee, walked over to the table and took a seat next to and across from Grant. Kaylee was holding a bottle of beer, and Bennett had a glass of whiskey in one hand, and a bottle of beer in the other. He slid the whiskey over to Grant.

      “Thanks,” Grant said.

      “You’re welcome,” Bennett said, lifting his beer bottle.

      Wyatt and Lindy were on their way, and apparently, Bea and Jamie would be joining them, too. It was a little bit more social than Grant was in the mood for. But he was already here. And he had whiskey, so it was fine.

      He found that most social situations could be easily navigated with an alcoholic drink that he pretended required a lot of concentration. Everyone else would pick up any and all slack in the conversation and he could just sit there and drink.

      “Anything new at the ranch?” Bennett asked.

      “No,” he said, because he didn’t want to have a conversation about McKenna. Besides, he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt pressed to keep Bennett apprised of new hires at Get Out of Dodge.

      He wasn’t even sure why McKenna came to mind just then.

      “I’ll