His Christmas Cowgirl

His Christmas Cowgirl

A Wildflower Ranch Romance

Alissa Callen

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His Christmas Cowgirl

Copyright © 2016 Alissa Callen

Smashwords Edition

The Tule Publishing Group, LLC

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN: 978-1-945879-44-9

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Dedication

To Angus. My daredevil cowboy.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Excerpt from Her Mistletoe Cowboy

The Wildflower Ranch Series

About the Author

Chapter One

"No way. Peta Dixon’s breathless voice filled the pickup truck cabin as she frowned at the single light, shining from within the Bluebell Falls ranch house. He wouldn’t dare."

She eased her foot off the gas pedal and gravel crunched under the slowing truck tires. The dark shape of an owl flew past but her attention didn’t waver from the glow of pale light spilling into the night from a second story window.

There was only one man brazen enough to move into her home while she was away overseas. Her temporary ranch foreman. Garrett Ross.

The pickup rolled to a stop and she studied the lifeless foreman’s house that loomed beyond the bunkhouse to her left. The owner of the arrogant voice that had drawled along the international phone line had done more than ignore her ranch instructions. He’d disregarded where he was supposed to live.

Chin lifted, she pushed open the truck door. She hadn’t been given a boy’s name for nothing. She’d spent her life proving she was equal, if not better, than any man. The cowboy her injured foreman, Hal, had organized to replace him had just spent his last night in the main ranch house.

She took a calming breath, savoring the scent of pine trees and wood smoke. She’d enjoyed seeing what was beyond the Montana mountains but it was good to be home. The chill of late fall brushed over her skin and she shivered as she drew the thin, white bolero over her bare shoulders. It had seemed a good idea at the time to wear a pretty dress home on the airplane. The shock on her father and brother’s faces when they saw her wearing something other than Wranglers, worn boots, and a western shirt had made her smile.

But her lips didn’t curve at the memory. Instead she turned and strode towards the ranch house, the wind tangling her dress around her legs. She stopped to bunch the silken material in her hand. She might have discovered her feminine side while in Europe with her younger sister, Kendall, but Peta hadn’t yet mastered the art of walking like a lady.

She reached the house and paused on the bottom step to catch her breath. It wasn’t only her appearance that had changed over the past month, her fitness had, too. And not in a good way. The lack of physical work and a fondness for sugary, French pastries had added an unfamiliar fullness to her usually lean curves. She didn’t envy poor Scout when she next rode her.

Peta released the skirt of her dress and the soft fabric brushed against her ankles. With her breathing now even, she pushed open the heavy door of the historic ranch house. Precious childhood memories greeted her. The warmth of her mother’s smile, the tight hug of Kendall’s small arms and the cheeky flash of Rhett’s grin. The disapproval of her father’s hard stare.

But such a memory no longer had the power to hurt her. While time had stolen her mother it had also softened her irascible father. There were days now when he even laughed. Time had also brought Rhett happiness with Ivy and, if all was going well with Kendall tonight, time would have brought Brent back to her.

Peta lifted a hand to rub at her tight temple as she headed toward the dimly lit kitchen at the back of the house. Time might not have gifted her with a similar happiness but she could no longer let the loneliness that tainted her dreams distract her. She’d shared stolen kisses on an Italian beach and flirted with suave-talking Frenchmen, and still her heart remained untouched.

Now she was home, it was business as usual. There’d be no chance to listen to her yearnings. She had a ranch to run and a fall roundup to complete. Her pace quickened toward the kitchen doorway. And right now she had a too-big-for-his-boots cowboy to transplant back into the foreman’s house.

She stepped into the kitchen, lit only by the range hood light, and stopped. The empty room smelled different. A faint and unfamiliar scent of masculine aftershave lingered. Whoever this Garrett was he liked to smell good. She ignored the appreciative sigh of her senses and shook her head. Hal had been with the ranch since she’d started high school and she trusted the wise and savvy old foreman with her life. But what had he been thinking when he called in a favor and asked Garrett to fill in for him until he was back on his feet?

Five minutes into her first phone call with Garrett, he’d cut her off, not giving her a chance to run through her to-do list. He’d made it clear he had everything under control. She was the first to admit she was a bossy and willful firstborn but she’d never had a problem working with any cowboy. She also liked to think she was reasonable and fair, a team player. She didn’t ask anyone to do what she wasn’t prepared to do herself.

She opened the fridge door to gauge how long Garrett had been living in the main house. Her lips pressed together. The shelves were full.

Stairs creaked beyond the kitchen doorway. She swung around. The showdown that had been brewing since their tense phone conversations was about to take place. It was time to put a face to the deep voice that had prickled the hairs on her nape until the man’s supreme arrogance had erased all sense of attraction.

But as bare, broad shoulders filled the doorway, it proved impossible to get a good look at her temporary foreman’s face. Dressed in low-slung faded jeans, he walked into the kitchen drying his hair with a large white fluffy towel. The range hood threw light over corded ridges and hollows honed by hard work and tanned by the summer sun. She quashed the responsive leap of her hormones. Garrett’s impressive muscles were only matched by the depth of his audacity.

He stilled, then slowly the biceps of his left arm uncurled as he lowered the towel from where he rubbed at his dark hair. For a beat he stared at her. Shock flared in his grey eyes before his gaze swept over her from the top of her over-long, blonde hair to the tips of her crimson toe nails. When his eyes met hers, they were narrowed and assessing.

She held his gaze and ignored the fresh scent of soap that clung to his smooth skin. She wasn’t initiating polite small talk. Even if she’d now seen her temporary foreman’s features and discovered he not only had muscles in all the right places, he also was jaw-dropping gorgeous. Garrett Ross had some explaining to do.

He nodded and broke the silence. Welcome home, Peta. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.

A ripple of awareness feathered over her, causing goose bumps to prickle across her arms. If possible, his deep-timbered tone was even more attractive in person.

She matched his curt nod. Thanks, Garrett. Kendall and I managed to catch an earlier flight.

Garrett’s only answer was to lift his towel and rub at his wet hair. She didn’t know if it was the casualness of his action, the fact he showed no embarrassment at being caught in her house or the water droplet that meandered its slow way over his sculptured right collarbone, but her temper kicked up a notch.

Of course, she said, eyes never leaving his, now I’m home I’ll be needing my house back.

Sure. You can have your house back as soon as the hot water pump has been replaced at the foreman’s house.

Peta counted to three as her fingers curled into her palms. Her overriding instruction had been that she wanted to know everything that happened on the ranch as soon as it happened, even if it was just a branch falling off the old pine tree.

How long has it been broken? She managed to speak through stiff lips.

Two weeks.

And yet you never mentioned it when we spoke a week ago.

His attention shifted to the collection of delicate bangles on her wrists that jangled as she forced her hands to relax. "It wasn’t important. I didn’t want to bother you on your... vacation.

Unmistakable disapproval raced across his eyes. Thanks to her father she was used to such censure, but for an irrational reason it mattered that this man should judge her and find her lacking. Yes, she’d stayed away longer than expected, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about her ranch.

Well, you’ve had a hot shower so will be all right to sleep in Hal’s house tonight. Thank you for filling in for him, I appreciate it. But now I’m home I’ll cover the foreman’s role. Hal mentioned you’d been working on a Wyoming ranch and I’m sure they’d be pleased to have you back as fall is always a busy time.

It was only a subtle reaction but Garrett’s mouth hardened. She made a mental note. The tall and imposing man before her kept his emotions close to his chest. Old Henry Watson might have met his match if they ever were to sit across from each other at a poker game.

I gave Hal my word I’d stay until he returned to work, even if that isn’t until after Christmas. Considering he isn’t yet out of hospital, I’m not going anywhere. Garrett’s slow words were underpinned by a granite-tough strength. As for where I sleep tonight, unless you can think of a way to remove Patience from Hal’s attic then I’ll happily sleep there.

Peta withheld a sigh. So much for her plan to banish Garrett from the ranch house, let alone to send him back to wherever he came from. A cowboy’s word was his bond. Garrett wouldn’t leave until the hip Hal had broken in his fall from Scout had healed. She’d be a fool to waste time and energy convincing him otherwise.

Between no hot water and Patience, the noisy possum, her conscience also wouldn’t allow her to ask Garrett to sleep at the foreman’s house. If he hadn’t responded to Hal’s SOS, Peta would have had to cut short the trip that had been far more than a vacation. Their time away seeing the world had been to prove to Brent that a life in Marietta with a rancher was what small town girl Kendall really wanted.

Peta pressed her fingers against her now aching temple. When did Patience move back in?

My first night here. Hal mentioned she’d been removed once before?

She was and she’ll again have to be relocated by professionals. It’s illegal to trap wildlife in Montana without a license. I’ll call Simon at the animal control company tomorrow. And if you’re sure you’re all right to stay on, it will be handy to have another set of hands for the roundup.

Tiredness merged with resignation. She swung away to flick on the electric kettle. She didn’t drink coffee but had acquired a taste for hot tea in England. Instinct told her she’d need caffeine if she was to survive the next few hours, let alone weeks, dealing with her now not-so-temporary foreman.

He should learn to read the fine print.

Garrett Ross rubbed the back of his neck as the beautiful woman before him reached into the cupboard for a mug. Not once had Hal indicated Garrett had signed on for a whole lot of trouble when he’d agreed to run Bluebell Falls possibly until after Christmas.

The loose lines of his boss’s floral dress caressed curves that would make any cowboy’s lariat throw wide. Her thick, glossy blonde hair fell half way down her back and as for her mouth... he’d forced himself to focus on the brilliant blue of her eyes and not on how full and soft her lips were.

He’d seen the family photos of a fresh-faced and pretty Peta Dixon on the mantelpiece. But nothing had prepared him for the reality of seeing the Bluebell Falls ranch owner in the flesh. He’d stared into her thick-lashed eyes and had forgotten to draw breath. Then he’d registered her glamour and her long, crimson nails and disappointment had bitten deep.

Peta Dixon was no different to the other women who had shaped his life.

All his life women had let him down. First, his mother had abandoned him at fourteen to run away to Vegas to marry her third husband. Then Jeanie, and every other woman since his ex-fiancé, all confirmed that when the going got tough they didn’t hang around. There’d always been someone who drove a flashier car, someone who showered them with more materialistic appreciation, someone who was prepared to drop everything for them.

He should have read the signs about Peta earlier. She’d extended her trip at a time when it was crucial to get her cattle down from their summer pastures. Neighboring ranches had already completed their fall roundup. And now she’d turned up unannounced, with an attitude, smelling of French perfume and looking like she’d stepped off the pages of a high-end fashion magazine.

The whistle of the kettle masked his sigh and his frustration. He also should have known better than to have high expectations and to indulge the longing that one day he’d meet a down-to-earth and genuine woman. Even if Hal told him he only ever attracted a certain type of woman and that there were women out there who didn’t value money and social connections above home and family. If first impressions were anything to go by, this wasn’t going to be the woman across from him, even if her beauty made his testosterone thrum.

Peta briefly glanced his way, her smooth brow creased and her lips unsmiling. Coffee?

Thanks. I’ll throw on a shirt and we can run through the rest of the things that have happened on the ranch.

The sooner he got her up to speed the sooner he could get back to running the ranch without interference. He was confident he wouldn’t see much of her in the short term. After being away, even to her mother’s, Jeanie had always needed days to recover and to unpack.

Peta flicked a quick look over his bare chest and reached for a second cup. Good idea.

When he returned, the range hood no longer lit the room with a dim and intimate glow. Instead the strong overhead light flooded the kitchen with brilliance.

Peta sat at the table, her crimson-tipped hands curled around a steaming mug of tea and her phone beside her. Across the table, sat his coffee. He slid into his seat, ignoring the way the better light revealed her flawless skin and the curve of her high cheekbones. It didn’t matter that without layers of makeup Peta would still be stunning. Her soft and manicured hands wouldn’t cope with an honest day’s work.

He took a sip of coffee and fought to keep his attention from off the shadow of cleavage revealed by the dip in the front of her dress. We’ll start with the cattle numbers.

She shook her blonde head. I’d prefer to start with the horses.

He reined in his impatience. Bluebell Falls was a cattle ranch. Horses were important in the day-to-day running of the ranch but they weren’t part of the overall business. What do you want to know?