Christmas at Henderson's Ranch by M. L. Buchman

Author:M. L. Buchman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Buchman Bookworks, Inc.
Published: 2015-10-07T16:00:00+00:00

14

He’d offered to call the helo a half dozen times this morning, but Chelsea had turned him down cold, despite hobbling about like a geriatric case. Another round of liniment helped some, but he knew she’d be stiff for days.

Doug finally gave in. Partly because he knew Lucy wouldn’t be up for more than a casual amble and partly because he wanted every single minute with Chelsea that he could get. He’d held her throughout the night, marveling at the rightness of it.

It had been like that when he’d arrived at the ranch fresh out of the service. After three full tours, most of them spent on ships in the Persian Gulf, he’d been sick to his heart of the unending heat, the limitless steel, and the noise—for a Navy ship was never silent. He’d been on the ranch for three years now and could still feel the Persian dust in his pores. But the ranch had fit him since the first moment he’d stepped on the soil.

He’d ridden plenty as a kid at his parents’ place in Wyoming. When he didn’t re-up, SEAL Commander Luke Altman had sent him up to see his own former commander outside Highfalls, Montana. Mac had shown him around Henderson Ranch and Doug had decided on the spot that he never wanted to leave. Mac and Ama had been looking for a foreman. Together, they’d transformed the aging ranch into a showplace tourist destination.

He’d worried a lot about “the son” coming home, until he’d met Mark and Emily. Mark had taken one look at the transformation and thumped him hard on the shoulder before walking away without a word.

It was Emily who’d translated for him. “He was so worried for his parents. You’ve really touched him.” Then she’d kissed him on either cheek. “You done good, Doug. Keep it up.” Then she’d gone after her husband. That’s when he’d set his sights on the kind of woman he wanted. One just like Emily Beale.

And he couldn’t have found one more different than Chelsea Bridges if he’d tried. Oh, a lot of the things that were right with Emily were just as right on Chelsea, especially her absolute fearlessness—the image of her galloping through a thunderstorm on her first ride still fired the imagination.

But where Emily was quiet, thoughtful, and soft spoken, Chelsea spoke her mind and laughed with a bright joy—even when on the verge of succumbing to hypothermia.

He imagined it would take years to fall for the right woman once he met her, because his ideal woman didn’t fall that quickly. At least so he’d thought until he’d rubbed noses with Chelsea inside a parka hood and received a kiss for it. Now he was crazy about a sassy redhead who’d slept in his arms like she’d always been there.

Slept. And that was all she’d done. Hard to blame her, as her body had been through a lot of extremes yesterday. But the only extremes he’d been through had been treating Chelsea as if she was his injured sister.

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