The Rancher's Christmas Song. RaeAnne Thayne

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      “He strikes me as a man who holds on to what he considers his.”

      “That might have been part of it. But the truth is, Beckett adores his boys. You should have seen him, driving to cattle sales and the feed store with two toddlers strapped in their car seats in the crew cab of his pickup truck.”

      Her heart seemed to sigh at the picture. She could see it entirely too clearly, the big, tough rancher and his adorable carbon-copy twins.

      “He’s a good man,” Faith said. “A woman could do far worse than Beckett McKinley. If you’re ever crazy enough to let Hope fix you up, you shouldn’t discount Beck on account of those wild boys of his.”

      That wouldn’t be the only reason she could never look seriously at Beck, if she was in the market for a man—which she so totally wasn’t. For one thing, she became nervous and tongue-tied around him and couldn’t seem to string together two coherent thoughts. For another, the man clearly didn’t like her. He treated her with a cool politeness made all the more striking when she saw his warm, friendly demeanor around others. And, finally, she was more than a little jealous of his close relationship with her father. Curt treated his neighboring rancher like the son he’d never had, trusting him with far more responsibility than he would ever consider giving his own daughter. How could she ever get past that?

      She was saved from having to answer when Faith’s husband, Chase, came over with Faith’s daughter and son in tow.

      Chase smiled at Ella and she tried to ignore the awkwardness as she greeted him. This was all she wanted. A nice man who didn’t make her nervous. Was that too much to ask?

      “Mom, can we go?” Louisa said. “I still have math homework to finish.”

      “We’re probably the only parents here whose kids are begging to leave so they can get back to homework,” Chase said with a grin.

      “Thanks again for the great show, Ella,” Faith said. “We’ll see you tomorrow. Now that we’ve been warned the McKinley twins are coming, we’ll make sure you have reinforcements at practice tomorrow.”

      She could handle the twins. Their father was another story.

      * * *

      As much as he enjoyed hanging out with other ranchers, shooting the, er, shinola, as his dad used to call it, Beck decided it was time to head out. It was past the boys’ bedtime and their bus would be coming early.

      “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure but I need to call it a night,” he said.

      There were more than a few good-hearted groans of disappointment.

      He loved the supportive ranching community here in Pine Gulch. Friends and neighbors came through for each other in times of need. He couldn’t count the number of guys who had stepped in to help him after his father died. When Stephanie left, he had needed help again until he could find a good nanny and more than one neighbor had come over without being asked to lend a hand on the ranch.

      The Broken Arrow would have gone under without their aid and he knew he could never repay them. The only thing he could do now was help out himself where he could.

      As Beck waved goodbye and headed away from the group, he saw Curt Baker climb to his feet with the aid of his cane and follow after him. Beck slowed his steps so the older man could catch up.

      “Thanks again for stepping in today and helping Manny unload the feed shipment.”

      “Glad I could help,” he answered.

      It was true. He admired Curt and owed the man. After Beckett’s father died, Curt had been the first neighbor to step in and help him figure out what he was doing on the ranch. Now the tables were turned. Curt’s Parkinson’s disease limited his ability to care for his own holdings. He had reduced his herd significantly and brought in more help, but still struggled to take care of the day-to-day tasks involved in running a cattle ranch.

      He had actually talked Curt into running with him to be copresidents of the local cattle growers association. It wasn’t a tough job and gave Curt something else to focus on besides his health issues.

      “Have you thought more on what we talked about over lunch?”

      As if he could think about anything else. As much as he enjoyed cowboy folk songs, he’d had a hard time focusing on anything but Curt’s stunning proposal that afternoon.

      “You love the Baker’s Dozen,” he said. “There’s no rush to sell it now, is there?”

      Curt was quiet. “I’m not getting better. We both know that. There’s only one direction this damn disease will go and that’s south.”

      Parkinson’s really sucked.

      “I’m not in a hurry to sell. So far Manny and the other ranch hands are keeping things going—with help from you and Jax, of course—but you and I both know it’s only a matter of time before I’ll have to sell. I want to make sure I have things lined up ahead of time. Just wanted to plant the seed.”

      That little seed had certainly taken root. Hell, it was spreading like snakeweed.

      The Broken Arrow was doing better than Beck ever dreamed, especially since he and his brother, Jax, had shifted so many of their resources to breeding exceptional cattle horses. They still ran about 500 cow-calf pairs, but right now half the ranch’s revenue was coming from the equine side of the business.

      He would love the chance to expand his operation into the Baker’s Dozen acreage, which had prime water rights along with it. He wasn’t trying to build an empire here, but he had two boys to consider, as well as Jax. Though his brother seemed happy to play the field, someday that might change and he might want to settle down and become a family man.

      Beck needed to make sure the Broken Arrow could support him, if that time came. It made perfect sense to grow his own operation into the adjacent property. It would be a big financial reach, but after several record-breaking years, he had the reserves to handle it.

      “How does Ella feel about this?” he asked.

      Curt shrugged. “What’s not to like? You take over the work and we have money in the bank. She’ll be fine. She could go back to Boston and not have to worry about me.”

      He wasn’t sure he agreed with Curt’s assessment of the Ella factor. Yeah, she didn’t know anything about ranching and had only lived here with her father for a little longer than a year, but Ella was stubborn. She adored her father and had moved here to help him, though Curt seemed reluctant to lean on her too much.

      “Anyway, we can worry about that later,” Curt said. “My priority is to make sure I sell the land to someone who’s actually going to ranch it, not turn it into condominiums. I’ve seen what you’ve done with the Broken Arrow since your father died and I have no doubt you’d give the same care to the Baker’s Dozen.”

      “I appreciate that.”

      “No need to decide anything right now. We have plenty of time.”

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