A Ranger For Christmas. Stella Bagwell

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      She turned her gaze away from him and tried to focus on a giant agave plant growing off to her right. “I don’t know what kind of good fortune you might find around here,” she said, “but it doesn’t hurt to dream.”

      He asked, “Do you ever think about asking to be transferred to a different park?”

      The question brought her gaze back to him. “Not ever. I’ve never lived away from my family. It would take something very special for me to ever move away.”

      In spite of the sunglasses covering his eyes, she could tell his gaze was thoughtfully searching her face. Which surprised Vivian somewhat. So far, Sawyer seemed to be a lighthearted jokester, who appeared to consider flirting nothing more than a fun game.

      “You have family living in Wickenburg?”

      Thankfully he hadn’t yet connected the Hollister name to Three Rivers Ranch. And for today, at least, Vivian was glad he didn’t know she was an heiress to a cattle empire.

      “Yes. A mother, four brothers, two of whom are older than me, and a younger sister. My sister is currently living away, though.”

      “You didn’t mention a father. What about him? Or is that question too personal?”

      She very nearly laughed. He’d talked about her lips being kissable. Could he get any more personal than that?

      “No. It’s not too personal,” she told him. “I didn’t mention Dad because he’s been dead for several years. A horse accident.”

      “Oh. Sorry.”

      She sighed. Officially, Joel’s death had been ruled an accident, but as far as the family was concerned, there was too much mystery surrounding the incident to pass it off as an accident. But she’d only met Sawyer a few hours ago. She didn’t know him well enough to share the few facts they had about her father’s death with the man.

      “Yes. I still miss him terribly.” Her voice strained to speak around the lump in her throat. “What about you? Do you have siblings?”

      “No brothers. No sisters. It’s only me and Nashota. My dad died when I was eight years old—a construction accident. After that happened, my mother moved away with another man. I’ve never seen or heard from her since.”

      Looking at this strong and striking man, it was very difficult to imagine him growing up without a father and a mother who’d basically chosen to desert him. Given that sort of childhood, it was commendable that he’d turned into a responsible man.

      “That’s tough.”

      He shrugged. “Life is often tough. More for some than for others. I happen to think I was lucky. I had Grandmother to grab me by the seat of the pants and keep me on a straight path. Some of my childhood friends didn’t have as much. I wouldn’t want to tell you how they’ve ended up.”

      This morning his playful flirting had made her uncomfortable, yet surprisingly this genuine side of him disturbed her even more. The idea of him wanting, hurting and needing in the most basic human ways touched her more than he could ever guess.

      “Yes. Lucky you.” She rose from her seat of slab rock. “We’d probably better be going. We still have one more hiking trail to cover before we hit another set of campgrounds.”

      While she gathered up her partially eaten lunch, Sawyer left his seat and walked over to the edge of the bluff.

      “This is an incredible view,” he said. “From this distance the saguaros look like green needles stuck in a sand pile.”

      She looked over to see the strong north wind was hitting him in the face and molding his uniform against his muscled body. The sight of his imposing figure etched against the blue sky and desert valley caused her breath to hang in her throat.

      She walked over to where he stood, then took a cautious step closer to the ledge in order to peer down at the view directly below.

      “I never get tired of it,” she admitted. “There are a few Native American ruins not far from here. We’ll hike by those before we finish our route.”

      A hard gust of wind suddenly whipped across the ledge and caused Vivian to sway on her feet. Sawyer swiftly caught her by the arm and pulled her back to his side.

      “Careful,” he warned. “I wouldn’t want you to topple over the edge.”

      With his hand on her arm and his sturdy body shielding her from the wind, she felt very warm and protected. And for one reckless moment, she wondered how it would feel to slip her arms around his lean waist, to rise up on the tips of her toes and press her mouth to his. Would his lips taste as good as she imagined?

      Shaken by the direction of her runaway thoughts, she tried to make light of the moment. “That would be awful,” she agreed. “Mort would have to find you another partner.”

      “Yeah, and she might not be as cute as you.”

      With a little laugh of disbelief, she stepped away from his side. “Cute? I haven’t been called that since I was in high school. I’m beginning to think you’re nineteen instead of twenty-nine.”

      He pulled a playful frown at her. “You prefer your men to be old and somber?”

      “I prefer them to keep their minds on their jobs,” she said staunchly. “And you are not my man.”

      His laugh was more like a sexy promise.

      “Not yet.”

       Chapter Three

      Later that night in the big family room on Three Rivers Ranch, the Hollisters were enjoying drinks before dinner when Hannah plopped down on the couch next to Vivian.

      Eyeing the beseeching grin on her daughter’s pretty face, Vivian said, “Okay, I know that look. What are you wanting? To add something to your Christmas list?”

      Hannah wrinkled her pert little nose. “Oh, Mom, I’ve only asked for two things.”

      “Only two? A horse and a saddle. You already have both.”

      “Yes, but a girl can’t have too many horses or saddles,” her daughter pointed out, then gave her long blond braid a flip over one shoulder. “Anyway, I don’t want anything else on my Christmas list. I wanted to ask if you’d take Nick and me down to Red Bluff this weekend.”

      Frowning, Vivian placed her drink on a nearby table, then turned her full attention to Hannah. “Red Bluff? Whatever for?”

      Hannah rolled her eyes in droll fashion. “We’ve not been down there to see Aunt Camille in ages. And it’s so warm and pretty there. We want to go riding down the canyon.”

      Red Bluff Ranch was another property of the Hollister family. At thirty-five thousand acres, it was only a fraction of the size of Three Rivers, but it was equally important. Located at the bottom of the state, near Dragoon, the climate remained much milder than Three Rivers. Each autumn her oldest brother, Blake, who СКАЧАТЬ