Rancher's Covert Christmas Read online

  Zane thumped his thumb on the arm of his chair as he followed the conversation and tried to analyze why Josh’s wedding bothered him. He liked Kate a lot. She really was a great fit for his brother and a welcome addition to the family. She wasn’t the issue.

  He loved the idea of a holiday wedding, so it wasn’t the timing of the nuptials. And Piper’s wedding hadn’t phased him in the slightest. Piper’s marriage to Brady seemed like fate finally working itself out.

  “Will you live here at the ranch once you’re married?” Erin asked.

  And Zane’s gut clenched. Josh had been like his right hand, his other half, his best friend for twenty-eight years. With Josh’s marriage, he felt a bit like he was losing his brother, their special connection, a piece of his history.

  “Eventually we’ll get a house in town,” Josh answered. “Or maybe we’ll build a house somewhere on the property?” His twin divided a look between their father and his intended.

  Michael nodded. “Sure. That could be arranged.”

  Troubled by the negative track of his thoughts, Zane turned to Erin, offering a new topic of discussion. “I understand Connor is playing one of the wise men in his school’s Christmas play on Friday evening. If you’re interested in getting a feel for the town and meeting more people from Boyd Valley, you’d be welcome to join the family for the school’s production.”

  Erin shifted her bright smile and Christmas-green eyes to him, and, just like that, his mood lifted. “I’d love to! That sounds like fun.”

  “Fun?” Josh pulled a face. “Kids singing out of tune and stumbling through awkward lines sounds tedious to me.”

  Kate elbowed him. “Josh! It’ll be great.”

  Josh arched an eyebrow and snorted. “See? Women are weird.”

  * * *

  “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot about the school play on Friday,” Zane said as he walked Erin back to the guesthouse after dinner. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Truly.”

  “No! I want to go!” She grabbed the sleeve of his coat and met his querying side glance. She knew she was shamelessly flirting with him, but having indulged in a glass—well, two—of wine with the family after the dinner dishes were washed and put away, she was at the mercy of her host’s good looks, his low-key charm and the mellow warmth the wine created in her. She could pull back and regroup with a more professional distance in the morning. Right?

  “All right, then.” He gave her a small, crooked grin, one that hinted at what his chiseled face would look like if he were to smile as brightly as Josh had throughout dinner. She made it her goal to bring that kind of relaxed and glowing smile to Zane’s face before she left. She had the distinct feeling he hadn’t smiled nearly enough in recent months.

  Erin inhaled the crisp winter air redolent with the scents of hay, mud and animals. Ranch smells. When she’d arrived, the earthy scents had offended her urban sensibilities. But now, only one eventful day into her stay, and she was already growing accustomed to the feculent odors.

  “Thank you for dinner and the warm welcome your family has given me.” She stopped on the stoop of the guesthouse and faced him. “I have to say...even though I’m here to work, I’m really looking forward to the next few days. A beautiful setting, nice people...” A possible vandal lurking among them that she’d been hired to root out. When the reason for her presence at the ranch flashed in her mind, she furrowed her brow and sighed.

  Zane mirrored her frown. “What?”

  “I—” She cast about for a reasonable explanation for her mood shift. “I was just thinking about Dave. Have you heard from your mom or Helen recently?”

  He nodded. “He’s been moved to a room for observation. Mom was going to get some dinner for Helen then head home. She should be here in a little while.”

  She nodded and turned to open the guesthouse door. “Well, thanks again for...” She hesitated when she met a deeper frown denting his brow. “Zane?”

  “It may seem overkill, seeing as we’re kinda isolated out here, but...I’d feel better if you’d keep your door locked while you’re here.”

  She blinked. “Oh, I, uh...”

  “We don’t know who is sabotaging the ranch or why,” he rushed to explain. “What they might do next, but...why make it easier for them? Better safe than sorry.”

  She dipped her head briefly in agreement. “All right.”

  His warning stirred a mixture of cold apprehension over hidden dangers on the ranch and a warm swirl of gratitude for his protectiveness.

  “Good night,” he said, touching the brim of his hat. Zane walked backward a few steps, his gaze clinging to hers before he turned to head back toward the family home. She watched him go, studying the wide set of his shoulders, the brisk, almost military, long-legged stride. He had a commanding presence, a surety about him evident even in his confident walk. He knew how to own a room...or a ranch yard.

  Despite her own counsel against biasing attachments, she hadn’t been immune to his charisma, his unspoken power. His bright, piercing gaze that she felt like static in her bones. He was pure alpha wolf, and her instincts about him told her there was plenty left to discover beneath his serene, solemn and imposing exterior.

  And she saw the way the others on the ranch tended to defer to him.

  Well, maybe not his siblings. She smiled remembering the lighthearted teasing from Piper and Josh. The rapport of the triplets, his ready thoughtfulness and concern for others spoke volumes to her about what she’d find when she finally got a chance to peek behind the curtain of Zane’s brooding and wariness.

  As she closed the door behind her and scanned the empty guesthouse, she remembered the deception she’d agreed to and sent up a silent prayer that her attempt to help the family didn’t come back to bite her.

  Chapter 6

  Erin conscripted Zane to take her into town a couple days later. Though Michael would have been the logical choice to take her, being her client, he’d already headed out to the pasture with Roy and Brady by the time she’d gotten herself out of bed, caffeinated and moving. She was undeniably happy about having Zane as her chauffeur, though—which was trouble. She’d only been at the ranch two days, and she was already breaking her own rules about biasing preconceptions about the people she was investigating. And while she thought it was a long shot that Zane was the culprit behind the sabotage to the ranch, giving that leaning too much credence could blind her to the truth.

  Having spent yesterday meeting everyone on the ranch at least in passing and observing as they completed their daily routine, today she wanted to get a feel for the community. She thought she could poke a few rocks regarding the McCalls’ sabotage and see what crawled out.

  As she’d driven to the Double M earlier in the week, Erin’s focus had been on the road and her phone’s GPS application, making sure she didn’t miss a turn. With Zane behind the wheel of his pickup truck, she could savor the landscape of snow-dusted hills and evergreens.

  “It’s beautiful here. What a joy to be surrounded by the mountains on one side and rolling farmland on the other. The best of both worlds.”

  “I’ve never lived anywhere else and can’t see any reason to leave.” He shifted his gaze to the landscape out the driver’s window as if seeing it with fresh eyes. “This place is a part of my soul. I know it sounds trite, but it’s true. When you’ve grown up working on the land, depending on the land, nurturing the natural resources, it becomes more than just the place you live.”

  The passion in his voice was subtle but spoke for the heartfelt emotion behind his statement. A warmth stirred deep in her chest. His love for his home reinforced her gut-level instinct that Zane couldn’t be responsible for the vandalism. The vandal had burned crops and poisoned a pond, both crimes against the very land that sustained his family. The land that he held so close to his heart. If she were a writer, that sentiment from
Zane would be part of her article.

  And you want him to believe you are a writer so...

  She dug a notepad from her purse and clicked open her pen. “I love the way you put that. Can I quote you for the article?”

  He jerked a startled glance her way, and a smile flickered at the edges of his mouth. “I, uh, sure.”

  When she raised her head from scribbling her notes, his whole demeanor had changed. He seemed pleased with the direction of the conversation, proud to be introducing her to the industry, the landscape, the way of life he loved.

  “We aren’t far from the turn-off to go to my grandfather’s land if you want to see it.” He cut a quick querying glance to her.

  “And the significance of your grandfather’s land? Is it part of your ranch?”

  “No. It’s not suited to ranching. Too rugged. It’s where we will run the adventure part of the adventure tours when we’re up and running. I figure it’s important for you to see it for your article. You’ll want to take pictures. It’s really scenic.”

  “Well, sure. Let’s go.”

  Zane flipped his turn signal and pulled onto a side road while she took the opportunity to study his profile. Now that was a scenic view. The contrast of his black hair and eyebrows to his bright blue eyes gave her chills. The good kind. And his full lips, square jaw and straight nose were Hollywood-worthy. But other little details she’d never noticed about a man before caught her attention when it came to Zane. The veins in the back of his large, callused hands struck her as ruggedly sexy. The clean, neatly trimmed fingernails, despite the dirty work he did in the pens and pastures impressed her, and the peek of his collarbone in the open V of his work shirt tantalized her. His collarbone, for crying out loud! She was getting palpitations over the man’s clavicle!

  She shook herself from her distracting thoughts and noticed the serious furrow on Zane’s brow. “Why the grim look, cowboy?”

  “Just thinking about what we were discussing earlier.” He tapped the steering wheel with his thumb. “Ranching is a hard life,” he said. “No doubt about it. But in our family, it’s a tradition that has been passed on for generations.”

  She clicked her pen again and continued taking notes. She had to bite her tongue not to ask questions, but she didn’t want to put words in his mouth or to taint his commentary. For a change, he was talking, more relaxed, more open. Her best move was to stay quiet, other than an occasional “Mmm-hmm” to tell him she was listening, and let him have his say.

  “So there’s a certain unspoken pressure to make the ranch a success beyond simple economics. I don’t want to be the generation that failed our forefathers, let all their blood, sweat and tears come to nothing.”

  Erin frowned at the notion that Zane was laboring under such a burdensome concept. His admission bolstered her impression that he took on more than his share of responsibility and leadership. No wonder he seemed so serious and unhappy much of the time. The man was trying to carry the whole ranch and his family legacy on his shoulders.

  “It’s sobering to see neighboring ranches fail. Other families with the same history behind them, the same love of the land and sweat equity on their side, have had to sell land and shutter their doors. We are just one bad season away from being the Carvers or the Andersons.”

  Erin jotted the names Carver and Anderson on her pad. She wanted to ask Michael about those families and the circumstances surrounding the failure of those ranches. Could the saboteur be working his way from ranch to ranch, causing all of the local families to go out of business?

  “That’s so sad. What are they—?” She snapped her mouth closed. No questions. Let him talk...

  He cut a side glance to her before turning back to the highway and tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “What happened to the Carvers and Andersons?” he guessed correctly.

  “Yeah. Are they still in the area?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Hugh Carver works for another ranch now as a hand, and his son went into banking. He’s our loan officer.” He made a face saturated with disgust.

  “Why the funny face?”

  He grunted. “Gill is...” He twisted his mouth and wagged a few fingers, apparently searching for the right word. “Well, he’s an ass. No sugarcoating it. Always has been. He’s been trouble for my siblings and me since high school. Junior high even. But he happens to work for the bank with the best loan terms, and even a small difference in interest rates makes a big difference long-term for our finances.”

  She hummed her understanding and jotted Gill Carver—banker and historic ass in her notes.

  “The Andersons took jobs in various places. Mrs. Anderson is one of the librarians in the next town down the highway. Mr. Anderson works at the Feed and Seed. Their daughter married and moved out of town, and Henry became something of a miscreant. Drugs, petty theft, trespassing...”

  She sat taller in her seat, and he shook his head without looking at her. “I know what you’re thinking, and no. He’s been serving time for car theft and drug possession for the last five years.”

  “He hasn’t been paroled? You’ve checked?”

  “We mentioned him to the sheriff, and they confirmed with the state that he’s still behind bars.”

  “Oh.” She sagged again in her seat, scowling. “That would have been too easy, huh?”

  He barked a humorless laugh. “Yeah.” Then frowning at her he added, “And again, not your concern.”

  “Hey, I like your family and hate seeing what’s happening to you all. So sue me if I take a personal interest in who is behind the vandalism.” When he met her gaze, she gave him a raised-eyebrow, challenging stare.

  Zane huffed and turned back to the road, muttering, “Stubborn.”

  She chuckled. “Yes, I am.”

  He gave her an exasperated half smile, and once again, she longed to see a full smile on him. His twin was understandably floating on air these days, and his face, so like Zane’s, positively glowed when he grinned. How breathtaking would Zane be if he allowed a real, soul-deep, joy-borne smile to grace his lips? She ached inside knowing Zane had so little to smile about. Had he become so mired in his family’s troubles that he couldn’t enjoy the simple things? Couldn’t share his brother’s happiness? Couldn’t cut loose for a few minutes and just enjoy a belly laugh over something silly? Even when she’d been witness to his teasing with his siblings, he’d only managed a weak facsimile of a grin.

  She glanced out the window at the beauty of the rugged terrain. “So tell me about this property we’re going to.”

  His face brightened a bit, clearly warming to the subject. “It’s been in my mother’s family for generations, going all the way back to the 1850’s gold rush. My great-great-great-grandfather came to Colorado during the first wave of the gold rush and staked a sizable claim. As other miners around him gave up the search, he bought them out. In the years that followed, he and his sons refused to sell their land, and so this huge piece of unblemished wilderness is still in the family. Because of the early deaths of her great-uncles and my mother being an only child, the land was eventually deeded in entirety to her.”

  Erin blinked. “How many acres do you own?”

  He told her, and she goggled at him. “Holy moly, Zane! You realize, don’t you, that if you sold that land to a developer, your financial worries would be over, right? You and your whole family could retire in style.”

  He sent her a hooded glance. “First, what you’re suggesting is blasphemy. If Otis Ferguson and his sons could hold the land when the railroad came calling, the McCalls are not going to sell to developers.”

  “But—”

  “Second,” he said and frowned. “I already considered that option, to my mother’s dismay, and learned that her father anticipated growing pressure to sell the land and did some fancy legal and real estate maneuvering to make selling virtually impossible.”


  “How so?”

  “He made Swiss cheese of the property, deeding very small pockets of the land to environmental charities and trusts in his will, with strict stipulations attached. We can’t sell the land without permission from the various charities and private investors, and he made it worth their while to hold on to their small bits of property instead of selling. He knew the environmental causes would not want the land turned into subdivisions and shopping malls.”

  “A wily old coot, your grandfather. Eh?”

  Zane slanted a half grin at her. “Wily, yes. But we really don’t want to sell the land. It’s so beautiful, and if we can get the adventure tours running—”

  “When you get the adventure tours running,” she corrected. “You will do it. I have all the faith in the world you will.”

  Another half grin. “When, then. The adventure tours will mean the land is helping us turn a profit. So for now, we hold on to the property and another link to our family history.”

  They drove for several more minutes, taking narrow, winding roads up steep hills until they reached a plateau where he parked. She shouldered open the truck door and as she struggled down from the high seat, he rounded the front, headed toward her.

  “I was coming to help,” he said, seeming disappointed he hadn’t been allowed to give her a hand down.

  “Oh, thanks. Just...used to managing alone.” She flashed a grin and tucked her scarf into her coat against the chill.