This seasonal offering in the Wildflower Ranch
series
introduces us to Rhett Dixon on a high country ranch, so
chilly in winter that his sisters don't visit anymore in
case of frostbite. Ivy Bishop shows up one bright day, in
a
fashion statement jacket that is no match for the Montana
winds. HER MISTLETOE COWBOY may be a stranger to her, but
he comes with good references.
Ivy is a city lady who has bought the big ranch house and
five acres for a holiday home. Rhett owns the rest of the
land and lives in a log cabin. While winter isn't ideal
the
lady needs to take time out and restore her spirits in
some
solitude. A terrier pup she's rescued should have been
her
only companion, but with no power in the big house, she's
obliged to accept Rhett's offer of a night at his place.
Having burned her bridges with a man and a company, Ivy
isn't sure where she's headed next. Maybe her path will
seem clearer after Christmas.
Baking gingerbread, Christmas decorations and gentle ranch
horses fill this lively story. Rhett's father, elderly
now, is widowed and misses his wife so much that he can't
bear to see the ranch any more. Rhett knows that he was
too wild while growing up and has determined to atone by
solid quiet work. And Ivy is a strong woman who grows in
spirit as she defeats the taste of betrayal. I enjoyed
seeing these people rub the corners brought by solitude
off
one another during this novella.
Anyone looking for a modern Western read with contrasting
characters will enjoy this thoughtful tale set in
Marietta,
Montana. With mistletoe hanging in strategic spots, and
bitter weather encouraging couples to sit close, the sweet
romance of HER MISTLETOE COWBOY by Alissa Callen is a
winner.
Corporate analyst, Ivy Bishop, intends spending Christmas
holed up in an isolated Montana ranch house with only an
abandoned puppy for company. When the festive season ends
her broken heart might just have had just enough time to
heal.
Ex-rodeo rider, Rhett Dixon, has put his playing days
behind
him. He has something to prove. Despite being the first
son
in three generations of ranchers, he is determined to
succeed in ranching on his own merits.
But when Rhett’s new neighbor proves to be far-too-pretty
and far-too-compassionate, his single-minded focus
deserts
him. And the more time Ivy spends with the workaholic,
blue-eyed cowboy next door the more she realizes her
heart
isn’t actually broken – yet.
Excerpt
He had company.
The crunch of snow behind Rhett Dixon confirmed what the
flicker of the bay mare’s ears told him. He wasn’t alone.
He finished tickling the sweet spot on the horse’s neck
as she rubbed her head against his jacket. Faithful old
Cherry loved her daily scratch.
From over his shoulder, the icy breeze brought the faint
scent of vanilla. He frowned. His unexpected visitor was
female. But it couldn’t be his childhood friend, Payton
Hollis. Perfume wasn’t exactly on the working cowgirl’s
‘must wear’ list. It also couldn’t be his sisters. Peta
and Kendall now phoned before they’d arrived to make sure
he’d have a fire lit. He hadn’t heard the last of their
complaints that they’d gotten frostbite from his arctic
log cabin.
The mare, happy she’d been spoilt enough, lowered her
head to the hay Rhett had delivered. He glanced at the
big buckskin gelding to his left and, satisfied Tucker
wouldn’t poach Cherry’s portion, he eased the weight off
his right leg readying to turn. The twinge in his knee
reminded him why he lived on a high-country ranch so
isolated he’d only ever had two visitors. Well, if his
sisters even counted as guests.
He turned.
The ache in his knee faded. The cold biting his cheeks
receded. The grief that never left him, dulled.
Yes, his visitor was female. But not local.
His breath expelled in a dense, white cloud.
She was also … beautiful. Knock the wind from your chest
beautiful.
And cold.
Her arms hugged her torso and snow glistened on the fawn-
brown hair that fell from beneath her fur-trimmed hood.
Lips, that should have been pink, were pale, and from the
shadows beneath her eyes he wondered if something else
besides the glacial temperature leached her of both
warmth and color.
He made his way through the wooden gate toward the
stranger.
“Hi there.” His gloved hands flicked over the buttons on
his sheepskin jacket. “It’s not the best day to be out
and about.”
The woman might be wearing a long black jacket but thanks
to his sisters he knew the thin outer wear was more of a
fashion item than functional.
“Hi. Yes, I know. My feet feel like two ice bricks.” She
shifted from one high-heeled black boot to the other in
an attempt to beat the cold seeping through her thin
soles. “Sorry to bother you, but I need a hand.”
Her smooth and cultured words confirmed she should be in
a heated city condominium and not out in the winter
weather of the Montana mountains.
Rhett shrugged out of his coat. Ignoring the wind gust
that delved beneath the collar of his thick plaid shirt,
he offered the woman his jacket.
“No problem. Here … take this. Has your car broken down?”
She shook her head and made no effort to unfold her arms
and take the coat. It hung suspended between them. Used
to stubborn sisters, without thought he stepped nearer
and draped it around her.
Big mistake.
He was so close he could see the creamy texture of her
skin and the silken length of her dark lashes. He could
smell the now stronger scent of vanilla mixed in with
something sweet. Orange? He could also see the flash of
spirit in her hazel eyes as she stepped side-ways so the
heavy coat slipped off her narrow shoulders and back into
his hands.
“Thanks. But I’m fine. You’ll need your coat.”
He nodded, knowing it would be futile to argue. Her firm
tone made it obvious she might be out of her urban
comfort zone but she was no helpless city girl. His
independent elder sister, Peta, had taught him well. It
was a brave man who’d override the wishes of a woman with
a tilted chin. Even if that woman was pint-sized and
barely reached his jawline.
Beneath the stranger’s folded arms a bulge within her
coat caught his attention. Again he breathed out a slow
and heavy white cloud. She was pregnant. The realization
shouldn’t kick like a badass bronco. Payton had once told
him the right girl would one day walk into his life. For
some reason disappointment bit deep it wasn’t going to be
this pale-skinned beauty.
Coat hanging from his hand, he stared past her to look
for a car or a male companion. Just as well this woman
wasn’t the one to fulfill Payton’s prophecy. He had no
time for a relationship. He had a point to prove and a
past to exorcise. He hadn’t walked away from everything
he’d known to fail to honor the promise he’d made on his
mother’s grave. He needed to get this beautiful stranger
on her way and refocus on running his ranch and proving
he’d changed.
He scanned the way she’d walked. Only a single set of
footprints disturbed the fresh snow and no distant shape
of a car sat near the road. Anger filled him. What type
of man let his pregnant partner out alone in this weather
and in this isolated part of Paradise Valley? The walk
into the ranch wasn’t a quick stroll. No wonder she
looked exhausted.
“Please put your c … coat on. I’m feeling c … colder just
looking at you.”
The chatter of her teeth, returned his gaze to hers. And
what type of man was he letting a pregnant woman stay out
in the cold longer than she had to?
“Okay.” He shrugged on his jacket. “I’ve a pot of coffee
heating. How about I pour you a mug while you tell me
where your car is and what I can do to help?”
The woman didn’t move toward his log cabin across the
yard. Instead an indefinable emotion darkened her eyes.
He rebuttoned his coat and lowered his voice as if
talking to a spooked mustang. “It’s okay. My name is
Rhett Dixon and you’re on my ranch, Little Rose Crown.
Anyone around these parts will vouch I’m no serial
killer.”
“Just as well because I took my self-defense classes very
seriously and I’m too frozen and too tired to go easy on
you.” The corners of her mouth briefly curled. “Besides I
know who you are. Henry Watson vouched for you.”
“Old Henry sent you?”
“No, not exactly –” She looked at her stomach beneath her
still folded arms.
He followed her gaze and could have sworn the bulge
inside her jacket wriggled. The bump suddenly moved and
then yipped.
Rhett couldn’t help his smile or stem a strange flood of
relief. He couldn’t be sure she was single but one thing
he knew was there was no baby bulge beneath this city
girl’s jacket.
Only a very lucky puppy.
Ivy Bishop lost the battle to keep Milly still and quiet.
She’d hoped the warmth of her body would send the tiny
Jack Russell to sleep. And it had. For all of ten
minutes. But now Milly had taken her puppy power-nap, she
was ready to play. The pup squirmed her way to where Ivy
had left her zipper down to ensure Milly had enough air
and popped her brown and white head out of the jacket.
Usually Ivy couldn’t look away from her cute, big-eyed
face but now all she could stare at was the smiling
cowboy in front of her. Even with his hat shading his
features, he would be on every unattached woman’s
Christmas list.
An old friend of her grandfather’s, Henry Watson, had
reassured her Rhett Dixon was a man to be trusted. But
the rancher hadn’t mentioned anything about the dimples
that etched Rhett’s lean cheeks, or the blue of his eyes
that reassured her that no matter how much winter might
dull the sky it would one day be summer.
She swallowed past the ache that never seemed to leave
her throat. She hoped, just like the cycle of the
seasons, that no matter how much her broken heart bled it
would one day be whole.
Milly’s little pink tongue aimed for Ivy’s chin and she
angled her head away.
Rhett’s grin broadened. “Someone has missed the memo it’s
cold out and not playtime.”
“You can say that again.” Ivy dodged Milly’s tongue for a
second time. “I’ve only had her for a day but already
know I’ve misnamed her. She should be Mischief and not
Milly.” She risked easing her grip on the squirming puppy
to hold out a gloved hand. “I’m Ivy Bishop.”
Rhett’s own gloved hand briefly secured hers in a strong
and firm clasp. “Nice to meet you Ivy and Milly.”
He stepped closer to tickle the top of Milly’s small
head. The pup latched on to his thumb, growled and shook
her head from side to side. Rhett’s dimples again
flickered. Ivy breathed in the scent of wood smoke and
man and a strange sense of longing buffeted her self-
control.
She needed to get away from this cowboy with his broad
shoulders, his gentleness and his compassion. With his
offer of his coat and a hot coffee he’d made her feel
more cared for in two minutes than James had done in two
years. And such a feeling was dangerous. It told her she
hadn’t yet repaired the firewall she’d let James breach.
She was in Montana to hole herself up for the festive
season and to heal. Not to be needy, weak or vulnerable.
Rhett prized his thumb free. “I’ll need my thumb, Miss
Milly, if I’m to get you guys back on the road.”
Ivy tightened her gloved grip on the puppy to make sure
she didn’t leap to the ground and make a beeline for the
cuff of Rhett’s jeans. There was a reason her own jeans
were tucked inside her knee-high black boots. The denim
now sported tiny puncture marks.
Rhett turned to examine the far-off road. “So is your car
close?
She blanked out the handsome line of his profile. “It’s
not my car I need help with but my front door lock.”
Rhett’s gaze snapped back to hers and narrowed. “As in
the front door to the main Rose Crown ranch house?”
“Yes, exactly. The lock has frozen over. I don’t have a
match or lighter to heat the key to melt the lock ice.”
As one they turned to look at the substantial, two-storey
ranch house that stood between them and the distant road.
When the ranch was auctioned the original ranch house and
five acres of land had been subdivided off. Rhett had
bought the rest of the land and the log cabin which had
once been the foreman’s home.
Silence engulfed them only broken by the whistle of wind
and the soft thud as a clump of snow fell from off the
top rail of the nearby wooden fence. Milly burrowed
within the warmth of Ivy’s jacket.
Rhett again looked at her. Wariness eclipsed the light in
his eyes. “You’re the absentee city owner who bought the
place for a holiday house?”
“I am.”
He again looked at the main ranch house and then over to
his cabin.
“Okay, then.” He strode away before she could further
gauge his expression. “Let’s get you inside before you
and Milly freeze.”
Ivy settled a hand on the bump within her jacket to
steady the puppy and set off after Rhett. Her numb feet
had trouble keeping up and Rhett slowed his long-legged
pace.
He shot her a sideways glance. “Winter’s not the best
season to holiday here in Montana. You planning to stay
until the snow thaws?”
“Maybe.” She examined his face. His earlier easy-going
camaraderie had become tempered by an unexpected gravity.
He must be worried she’d cause trouble or that her frozen
lock would be the beginning of all the help she’d need.
“But once my door’s unlocked, I’ll leave you in peace,
I’ve come for solitude not socializing.”
“Fair enough. But I am here if you need anything.
Neighbors look out for each other around here. ”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She was so
used to battling life on her own, even when engaged to
James. A simple act of kindness was as foreign to her as
snow was to her chic-city red car that had come into view
as they rounded the side of the ranch house.
A fatigue, stemming from more than three days of driving,
dragged at her feet. She was so tired of fighting to
survive in the impersonal corporate world. So tired of
the frenetic pace of downtown Atlanta. So tired of
searching for the impossible. She just wanted to sit by a
fire, bake her grandmother’s Christmas sugar cookies and
rewind to a time when life had been simple. To a time
when she’d been happy and whole.
“Been a long day?” Rhett asked, voice low as he slowed
his pace even further.
“More like a long six months.”
He nodded, his boots squeaking in the snow as he stepped
onto the path that led to the front steps.
She stopped and took a second to collect herself. The
rapid white puffs of her breaths let her know her
emotions were done with lying low. She focused on slowing
her breathing and reinforcing her control.
Everything was going to be okay. Sure she’d acquired an
abandoned puppy at a gas station on the way to Marietta,
but otherwise her plan to piece her life back together
was on track. She was here and would soon be inside the
building that loomed before her.
Solid and resolute, the main Rose Crown ranch house was a
tangible reminder of the strength of the pioneering
spirit. Named after the rose crown wildflowers that grew
high in the mountains, the house had changed hands over
the years and while it had been neglected, it hadn’t ever
crumbled.
She stood taller. Soon light would shine from the
lifeless windows and Christmas color would add vibrancy
to the stone and timber. And soon she would be ready to
put the past months behind her and move forward. So until
then she had to continue to keep everything together.
She joined Rhett on the steps and fumbled in her jacket
pocket for the house keys. Standing next to him, she
became even more conscious of the breadth of his muscled
shoulders. When he’d removed his jacket she’d seen how
his well-built torso had tapered down to lean hips. His
strength was honed from hard work and not from an hour in
the gym before a day in the office. Every tough line was
earned carving out a life in a rugged and sometimes
unforgiving land.
She handed her new neighbor the house keys and then
stepped backward to allow him room to examine the frozen
lock. Milly popped her head out of the jacket and set
about worrying the synthetic fur on Ivy’s jacket. She
disengaged the fur from the pup’s needle-sharp teeth and
watched as Rhett then strode to her unlocked car. He
popped the hood and pressed the key onto the still-warm
engine mount.
“Clever,” she said, with a wry smile. The heat from the
engine would warm the key and melt the ice in the lock.
“I’ll know for next time.”
“Just make sure you’re wearing gloves if you do ever do
this because the key will become hot. And, once the door
is open, if you put a little petroleum jelly on your key
and inside the lock, hopefully there won’t be a next
time.” He closed the car hood. “Right, let’s see if this
works.”
When the front door swung open, Ivy released her held
breath. Her stiff and cold lips curved in a smile.
“You don’t know how glad I am to see the inside of this
house.”
Emotion thickened her tone.
A fleeting emotion washed across his features, before he
dipped his head to indicate she step through the front
door. Still smiling, she walked into the entryway. She
briefly closed her eyes.
She was home.
Hands unsteady, she placed Milly on the floorboards.
First, she’d warm some food for the pup, then fire up the
heating, have a coffee and take a very hot bath.
Rhett followed her inside and as he shut the front door
darkness blanketed the foyer. She straightened to flick
on the light switch.
Nothing happened.
No. Way.
She flicked the switch on and off as though sheer
desperation would force the light to work.
“Sally assured me the electricity would be connected.”
Even to her own ears her words emerged high-pitched.
Boots sounded on the hardwood floor before natural light
streamed into the foyer as Rhett reopened the front door.
She shivered as an icy wind also blew inside. Milly sat
on the toe of her right boot and Ivy returned her to the
warmth inside her jacket.
“Looks like it’s coffee at my place after all,” Rhett
said, voice cheerful. “Ladies and puppies first.” He
waved a hand for her to return outside.
“I’ll call Sally right away and get it sorted.”
“I’m afraid you won’t have much luck seeing it’s Sunday.”
He closed the front door behind them.
Her stomach plummeted to her frozen toes. “Sunday?” Her
days of driving had left her disorientated.
“Yep. But I live on my own so have plenty of room for you
to stay. You can call Sally tomorrow and get everything
sorted then.”
She bit the inside of her cheek and stared at him.
Despite his reassuring words she couldn’t shake the
impression he shared her disquiet at the main house
having no power. His shoulders were a little too rigid.
“I don’t want to put you out. But you’re right, Sally
won’t be working on a Sunday.”
“You won’t be putting me out. The weather’s closing in so
I need to come inside anyway.”
As his fathomless gaze met hers, there was no sign of the
light-hearted cowboy she’d first met.
She shivered again, but this time not from the bitter
cold. A tiny part of her, a part that shouldn’t be
feeling glad that he lived alone, also shouldn’t be
feeling hurt the last thing he appeared to want was her
company.
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