The Rancher's Mistletoe Bride. Jill KemererЧитать онлайн книгу.
can’t imagine,” Amy said. “How long did you know about the cancer?”
“I didn’t. None of us did.” She blotted a napkin over the drop she’d spilled. Something about the question bothered her. Had anyone else known?
Had Daddy known?
No. If he’d known, he would have told her. He’d been as in the dark as everyone else.
“Maybe that’s a blessing. He didn’t suffer.”
Lexi didn’t see how it was a blessing, but she wouldn’t argue. If they’d had more time, they could have fought it.
Amy smiled warmly. “Looks like you’re making big changes in your life. I’ll pray for you.”
“I need all the prayers I can get. I think God’s mad at me.” She half laughed.
Amy covered her hand and squeezed. “He’s not mad at you, Lexi. You can go to Him with anything, big or small.”
“Thanks, Amy,” she whispered. Her phone dinged. Clint. “Well, it’s been wonderful to catch up with you, but my ride is almost here. Let’s get together soon.”
“Here’s my number. Let me know if you need anything.”
They hugged, and Lexi left, wrapping her coat tightly around her waist against the cold air. Amy’s words about going to God with anything filled her thoughts.
In the past, she’d trusted God with her plans. But she’d gotten busy with her company, and after her father died...
Was she being punished? She’d put her business first and lost him a month after planning her most prestigious wedding. She’d been named homecoming queen two weeks before her mother died. Whenever something wonderful happened to her, she paid a price too heavy to bear.
Could she take anything to God in prayer?
Lord, I want to believe You listen to my prayers. Am I foolish to stay here until Christmas? Should I go back to Denver? And what should we do about the calves?
She shook her head. Why would God care if she stayed or left or sold the calves now or later?
Do You really care? About things big and small?
Clint’s truck drove into the spot directly in front of her. That man did everything he said he would do. He was reliable. A hard worker. And in her heart she knew he was right about them needing a higher price for the calves. Owning a business meant taking calculated risks.
She buckled into the passenger seat. “I think we should try it your way and wait to sell the calves.”
He blinked. Then he nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Okay.”
One decision out of the way. Her business would not collapse if she stayed here until Christmas. One more month. Then she’d figure out the rest.
* * *
Clint hauled plastic bags full of groceries into Lexi’s kitchen later that afternoon. Walking into this house was like getting a hearty slap to the face each and every time he came in. The dripping of the faucet pounded into his temples. The wind had picked up, flapping the broken screen. And how had he not noticed the bulb missing in the can light above him?
Here he was living in the lap of luxury in his cozy home down the lane, and Lexi was stuck in this run-down tomb of a house.
The minute he’d moved into his cabin, he’d scrubbed it and checked the windows, furnace and plumbing. He’d tightened the place up good for winter, and every room sparkled like sunlight off the river.
If anyone but Lexi lived here, he probably would assume they’d fix it up themselves, but this was a woman who had lost both parents, held a demanding job and didn’t have a boyfriend or husband to rely on.
Which left him responsible.
Repairs would put him in Lexi’s direct vicinity far longer than he could handle. Even if he could admit—at least to himself—he didn’t mind making chitchat with her. It wasn’t conducive to keeping their relationship professional, though. And now that she’d actually trusted his decision about the calves, his palms wouldn’t stop sweating.
What if he was wrong? What if they ran out of feed and had to sell them for a loss?
He closed his eyes and shook away the doubts. It was too late for regrets now. He’d show Lexi her faith in him wasn’t misplaced. And he’d start today.
“Lexi?”
“Hmm?” She pushed a jar to the side and shoved a box of cereal onto the shelf.
“I’ve noticed there are some items around here that need fixing. I’m busy tonight—have to check the generators and equipment before the snow comes in—but tomorrow night, I’ll come by and get a few of the more pressing problems repaired.”
Lexi wiped her palms down her jeans. “What problems?”
Was she joking?
From the expression on her face, he’d say she wasn’t. “I hear a faucet dripping somewhere. It might be an easy fix, or it might need a new gasket or have to be replaced altogether. The screen in the window—” he pointed to the living room “—is ripped and banging around in the wind. Your fireplace needs to be inspected.” He turned in a slow circle, seeing cobwebs, a loose cabinet knob, an electrical outlet missing its cover.
With her hands on her hips, she scrunched her nose and studied the rooms. “It’s needed a cleaning for a long time. I didn’t realize there were so many other issues, though.”
Understandable with her father dying and her business keeping her so busy.
“After my mother died when I was seventeen, I think Daddy gave up on the house. He lived here, but he poured all his time and energy into the ranch itself. Maybe he was afraid of moving on, or he could have thought changing the house would make him forget her.” She bowed her head. “I haven’t been blind to it being so dirty. I just haven’t had the energy... You must think I’m a slob.”
“No, I figured you’ve been busy.”
She smiled up at him, and he held his breath. She had a knight-in-shining-armor glint in her eyes. “I would appreciate it very much if you’d stop by tomorrow night. I’ll do my best to help.”
He was no knight.
“I can manage fine.”
She tilted her head, still smiling. “I know you can. But it’s my house. And I’d feel like the worst sort of person if I let you do it all without lifting a finger.”
An image of Lexi holding a wrench and him accidentally touching her hand made him squirm. She was too pretty to be near for long periods.
“I said I can manage.”
“And I said I’ll help.”
He clamped his mouth shut. He couldn’t argue with her without sounding like a grizzly bear. He hoped the faucet was an easy fix. The screen and fireplace, too. Because if she started helping, she’d start talking, and when she talked, he had a hard time remembering why he needed to keep his distance.
And he needed to keep his distance. For both their sakes.
* * *
Lexi paused in front of the master bedroom door the next evening. She’d made too big of a deal out of Daddy’s room. She knew what she’d find—the double bed with a faded blue-and-yellow quilt, dusty dressers with her father’s personal items on a tray. Why had she been avoiding it for so long?
Slowly, she opened the door. His presence hit her, the faintest smell of cologne lingering. The bed, the quilt, the dusty dresser were the same. She crept to the tray with her dad’s belongings and gingerly picked up his watch. It had been a gift to him from her mother. He’d worn it every day Lexi could remember. It looked so out of place and lonely sitting here instead