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Chapter One
“Please don’t do this to me, Thelma. Not now. Not when we’re almost there.”
Squinting to better see through the late morning’s lightly falling snow, made murky by the rapidly increasing white smoke roiling from beneath the hood, Eleanor “Ellie” McCallister eased the sedan as close to the two-foot-high berm of plowed snow along the Teton County Road as she could get. Thank goodness more snow hadn’t fallen, considering Christmas was only a couple of weeks away. She would have ended up stuck in the snow as well as broken down.
Thelma, the six-year-old red Jetta Ellie had been so excited to buy when she’d first moved to California, ignored her. Little wonder, considering she’d just driven over fifteen hours, straight through the night. She’d made the trek from Los Angeles to her family’s dude ranch outside of Jackson, Wyoming, with only the barest of stops. And considering how bad her luck had been lately, she should have planned for engine trouble.
Having the car she loved croak went hand in hand with not only being fired from the job she’d loved but also being blackballed within the industry and having to slink back to the ranch she’d grown up on. There, she wouldn’t have to pay rent or buy food with money she didn’t have.
The crushing weight of defeat bore down on her.
How would she ever admit to her family how badly she’d screwed up?
By not saying a word about it, that was how. She was home for the holidays. End of story. Future Ellie would figure something out.
“No, you are not breaking down, are you, Thelma?” she insisted as she shifted into park. She hesitated a moment, then went ahead and turned off the engine before clicking on the hazard lights. It was doubtful there would be any other traffic on the road leading to the Starry Sky Ranch. At least not until her grandmother’s famous—or infamous, depending on who you asked—Christmas Eve–birthday combo celebration. Then the start of the winter dude ranch season the day after Christmas. But she didn’t want to add being rear-ended to her growing list of suck.
The day was still young, though, so there was no telling how long that list might get.
As white smoke continued to curl upward from beneath the hood while tiny flakes of snow drifted down, Ellie heaved a massive sigh. There was no way around it—she had to call Dad. ATVs and tractors, she could figure out. Cars were firmly in Mitch McCallister’s domain.
She reached for her tote bag on the passenger seat, dragged it onto her lap, and commenced what always turned into the Great Search for her cell phone within the seemingly bottomless depths.
“Come on, El,” she muttered. “You can do this without falling apart. It’s just Dad. Everything will be okay.”
Everything would be okay. She could do it.
But by the time she located her phone tucked under the help-wanted listings she’d printed out for both LA and Jackson, the rising swell of despair crested inside her, and her vision swam with unshed tears. All she’d wanted was to succeed somewhere beyond the shadow of the Starry Sky Ranch. To be seen as more than the local rodeo queen on repeat. Instead, thanks to an A-list actress with a strong dislike for being big-sis’ed by a stage manager, she was now blackballed within the LA theater scene and forced to come home.
Which she was also currently failing at.
Her nose began to run. Lovely.
Too dejected to hunt within the cavernous bag for a packet of tissues, she was just about to wipe her nose on the sleeve of her red puffer jacket when a knock on the driver’s-side window made her jump with a squawk.
Someone stood next to the driver’s door, but she had to wipe away the condensation that had built up on the inside of the glass before she could see who it was.
Oh. Great.
It was Beckett Landry, looking even better up close than he had in June when she’d last seen him roping a steer at the Jackson Hole Rodeo.
To see through the clear spot she’d made on the window, he’d bent at the waist and peered back at her with those fathomless dark-brown eyes of his as snow accumulated on his black felt cowboy hat and his fleece-lined denim coat. A hint of stubble that matched his black hair framed a mouth capable of a smile that was equal parts charm and trouble. Every inch of him screamed he’d successfully wrangled his fair share of horses. And hearts.
And the sucks just kept sucking.
She slumped back against the seat. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she could see an all-too-familiar, big silver extended-cab truck parked behind her Jetta. How had she not heard him drive up?
“Ellie McCallister? Is that you?”
Letting out a noisy breath, she blinked away the threatening tears, swiped at her nose, and pushed the button to lower her window. Then said the words she hadn’t planned on ever saying again. “Hey, Beck.”
“You heading home?”
Home. Something she didn’t actually have at the moment. Unable to pay the rent, she’d given up her condo, placed most of her things in the cheapest storage facility she could find, then loaded her ranch-appropriate clothes and necessities into the back of her Jetta.
But Beck didn’t need to know any of that.
She made a duh gesture at the snowy road in front of them. “Considering this is the road to Starry Sky, I’d say that is a pretty good guess.”
He straightened and held his hands up in surrender. “Just an innocent question, Ellie.” He lowered his hands, tucking them into his coat pockets and out of the cold December air. “I’d heard you’d returned to LA after the whole princess thing in June. Didn’t figure you’d be back so soon.”
“It’s almost Christmas. And you know how important Christmas is to Grams. Why wouldn’t I come home?” Especially considering she officially had nowhere else to go now.
He lifted a broad shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I heard the holidays are a busy time in the theater scene. Especially for important stage managers.”
The icy air streaming into the cab of her traitorous car froze in her lungs. The man who’d jilted her on the night of their high school Christmas formal was aware of what she did for a living. Make that what she used to do.
Her brain short-circuiting, the only thing she could think to say was, “You sure hear a lot of things.”
Again with the shrug.
He shifted his gaze to the front of her Jetta, the white smoke still sneaking from beneath the hood through any and all openings.
Ellie’s gaze, however, was stuck on Beck’s profile, and the ice in her lungs turned molten. He had always been drop-dead gorgeous, even before he’d disappeared from her life to join a pro rodeo circuit. Not long after, she’d left for California. She’d tell anyone who asked that she’d left to make a mark on her own, away from her family. The truth was that she’d left to escape memories of Beckett Landry.
And now, fully sporting what Lou referred to as a guy’s “man bones,” Beck had the kind of looks that made Ellie’s mouth go dry. His already stubborn jaw appeared cut from granite, and his skin still bore the kiss of the sun despite what the calendar said.
He looked back at her, and she jolted at being caught staring.
“Looks like you’re going to need a ride,” he said.
“You can’t fix it?”
He smirked. “Smoke rarely means an easy fix. But pop the hood and let me take a look.” He moved to the front of the car.
Rolling her eyes at his snark, she released the hood latch. He raised the hood and disappeared behind it. On the brink of getting out and being of zero help, she jumped when he abruptly slammed the hood shut.
As he moved back toward her, she leaned through the open window and said, “Can you tell what’s wrong?”
“Might be a cracked radiator cap. Which I can fix. I’ll come back and take a closer look at it after I get you to the ranch.”
“If it’s just the cap, can’t I just drive it the rest of the way?” Because she sure didn’t want to get into his truck. The thought of being so close to Beck heated her skin despite the biting cold air.
“I’m no mechanic, so I could be wrong. I’d hate for you to burn up your engine when I can easily give you a ride home.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs. “I don’t want to put you out. Or make you go out of your way.” There had to be a better option. Her fingers tightened around her phone.
He reached for the driver’s door handle. “You won’t be. And it’s not out of my way.”
She pulled in her chin. Why would he be heading this way? The small ranch he’d grown up on and where his mother still lived, as far as Ellie knew, was located on the other side of Jackson.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of this Wyoming cold.” He pulled on the handle, but the door was still locked. His dark eyes flicked to hers, the question in his gaze achingly familiar.
She gave herself a mental shake and hit the door lock button. As soon as the lock clicked open, Beck pulled on the handle and swung the door wide, offering her his hand.
Later, she could blame the length of the drive she’d just made, the turmoil of…everything—but for now, she blamed the pull she always experienced around Beck for why she slipped her cold hand into his warm one. Gripping her tote in the other hand, she tried to climb from the car with his help, but belatedly realized her seat belt remained fastened.
The grin he gave her scrambled her composure even more.
Great. Just great.
She snatched her hand back and fumbled with the seat belt. Of all the challenges she’d known she’d have to face returning home under far from ideal circumstances, having to deal with Beckett Landry, the first guy she’d ever fallen for, only to have him break her heart, hadn’t been on her bingo card.
Beck mentally kicked himself, repeatedly, for the reaction he’d had when Ellie slipped her hand into his. But when had he ever been in control of the electric zing of awareness that happened the moment her skin touched his? Hell, they didn’t even need to touch for his nerve endings to light up like a summer lightning storm over Grand Teton Mountain. Just the thought of her was enough to make his skin buzz.
And his heart ache.
Not what he needed right now. Not. At. All.
The day—hell, the foreseeable future—had gone to crap the second the doctor he’d just seen had refused to medically clear him to compete in any professional rodeo. Ever.
Once his head fully healed, he’d have to figure a lot of things out.
He pulled in an icy but steadying breath. If only he’d had time to prepare himself to see Ellie. But as far as he’d known, she was back in California, where he’d been told by pretty much everyone she intended to stay. The last person he’d expected to be behind the wheel of the red sedan coughing out white smoke was Eleanor McCallister. He’d heard she’d already been home once this year, at the beginning of summer, when an honest-to-God princess who was a distant relative of the McCallisters had tried to hide out at the Starry Sky Ranch.
Luckily, they hadn’t run into each other with him busy at the rodeo, but he’d known seeing her again would be an unavoidable eventuality. One he’d hoped to have time to steel himself for.
Instead, here he was, standing in the snow, watching her be all adorable as she struggled to unfasten her seat belt, which appeared to have trapped the edge of her puffy coat within the buckle, jamming it.
And she was as beautiful as she was adorable. The ten years since they’d briefly been together had been very, very good to her. Her honey-blonde hair shone, despite being collected into a messy bun, and her blue-green gaze still flashed with the fire that had won her the rodeo queen’s crown twice.
He’d always had a thing for her, but it was as pointless now as it had been back in high school. More so.
Locking his visceral reaction to her down, he planted the hand she’d briefly taken on the snowy roof of her car and leaned down. “Do you need some help?”
“No,” she snapped. Then she seemed to catch herself, pulling in a deep breath before saying in a modulated tone, “No, but thank you. I’ve got it.”
When she gave her coat a yank, the edge of the shiny fabric came free of the buckle, and she was able to unlatch the belt.
He eased back a step to allow her room to exit the car and gestured at the oversized leather purse-thing she held. “Is there anything else you don’t want sitting out here in the cold?”
Ellie glanced into the back seat and made a humming sound.
Only then did Beck notice how crammed the space was with what appeared to be clothing, most of it still on hangers, as well as other household items. Was she moving?
“Yeah, actually,” she said, reaching between the front seats and extracting a leggy potted plant of some sort from within the pile. “Here, can you take Spidey?”
He raised a brow as he took hold of the terra-cotta pot containing the green-and-white-striped plant. “Spidey?”
“Yeah.” She said it like he’d just questioned if the mountains behind them were high. “Because he’s a spider plant.”
“Ah. Of course.” He suppressed a smile. So freakin’ adorable.
She started to get out of the car but paused. “Do you think you’ll be able to get Thelma going today? Or should I grab my overnight bag?”
“To be safe, go ahead and grab your bag.” While he figured she was referring to the car, he had to ask, “Thelma?”
She heaved a sigh at his ignorance and patted the steering wheel. “Because she’s red.”
“And because you escaped together?” Though why anyone would want to escape from a place like the Starry Sky Ranch was beyond him.
Her gaze shifted away from him while she snagged an overnight bag not much bigger than her tote and climbed from the car. “Something like that.”
“Hopefully you don’t have any plans for driving off a cliff.”
“Not today.” She headed for his truck.
Well, that took a turn. He’d been joking about her possibly reenacting the end of the movie Thelma & Louise, but her tone had been dark. The urge to ask what was up with her kicked against the box he’d crammed his feelings for her inside, but the lock held.
Beck closed the car door and followed her. Needing to lighten the mood, he said, “I’m surprised your sister Louisa hasn’t claimed the name for her car.”
Ellie scoffed and opened his truck’s passenger door before he had a chance to. “That would be way too on the nose for Lou.” After climbing in and setting her tote and overnight bag on the floor between her feet, she reached for the plant he held. “Besides, I don’t think she names her cars. Her purses, though…” She trailed off with a bemused smile.
Having nothing to say to that, he handed over Spidey and closed the truck door for her as she settled the potted plant in her jeans-clad lap. While he walked around the front of his truck, he was struck by how surprising it was that Ellie had named her car, or anything inanimate. She was famous for being the practical McCallister sister. The one who could always be trusted to be left in charge of everything, from riding herd on her younger twin sisters, Louisa and Josephine, or wrangling their dude ranch guests. He’d always suspected it was the weight of that responsibility that was behind her decision to move to California.
Once he was back behind the wheel of his truck and driving them to the Starry Sky, he glanced at her. Her focus remained firmly on the snow-packed road ahead of them. She didn’t seem to have noticed all the things currently crammed into the back seat of his truck.
He blew out a breath in an attempt to ease the tension gripping his chest, then aimed for a neutral topic of conversation. “Speaking of Lou, are she and Jo coming home for Christmas soon also?”
“Um, I’m not sure.”
Surprise trickled through him. The McCallisters had always struck him as the type of family who stayed in constant communication. When she failed to elaborate or say anything else, he fell silent also for the remainder of the relatively short drive to the ranch entrance, then up the private, freshly plowed road to the main house’s circular drive.
Ellie said, “You can just let me out wherever.”
He headed straight for the space Mitch had cleared of snow for parking instead.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Ignoring the slight bite in her tone, he shifted into park and turned off the truck. “I’m going to see if your dad has a radiator cap that will fit a Jetta. I’m fresh out.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she kept any retort she might have made to herself.
Climbing out of the truck, he hustled to her side just as she was opening the passenger door. Not bothering to ask, he took the spider plant from her and waited for her to get out. He tried to take at least one of her bags, but she dodged him.
So stubborn.
Together, they entered the large main ranch house, which doubled as a lodge for guests staying in the luxury log cabins lining one side of the meadow on the opposite side of the big house.
They were barely through the oversized front door when a gasp sounded from the large living room. Dorothy McCallister, “Dot” to those who wished to live, rose from the leather wingback chair where she had been sitting next to a roaring fire in the massive stone fireplace on one side and a live, heavily decorated Christmas tree on the other. The matriarch of the McCallister clan had to be in her seventies, but she was as fit and sharp as many half her age.
“Ellie?” Dot said as if she didn’t believe her eyes, tucking her sleek chin-length gray hair behind her ears.
“Hi, Grams.” Ellie set her tote bag on the floor and hurried to hug her grandmother.
Clara Bell McCallister stepped through the double doors that separated the den from the living room, her light-blonde brows high. “Eleanor? What are you doing here?”
Ellie separated from her grandmother enough to give her mother a wan smile. “Surprise?”
Beck did a little eye-narrowing of his own. But before he could begin to speculate why the older McCallister women were so surprised to see the eldest child home around the holidays, Mitch McCallister came through the hall leading to the huge near-commercial-grade kitchen, a cup of coffee in hand, and caught sight of him first.
“Beckett! You all moved in?” Mitch asked.
“Almost, sir. The last load is in my truck.” It hadn’t taken him long at all to grab the belongings he hadn’t needed on the road from the storage unit his mom had put them in.
Nodding approvingly, Mitch said, “I just came up from the stable. Your gelding appears to be settling in just fine.”
“What?” Ellie exclaimed.
Mitch finally noticed his daughter. “Ellie! When did you get here?”
“Just now. But where is Beck moving into?”
“The ranch manager’s house where he’s going to be living. With Gage now gone with Izzy, we offered the house to Beckett.”
Beck took his time shifting his gaze from Mitch to Ellie. Judging by the downward slant of her honey-blonde brows and the hard line of her lush mouth that had haunted him for years, this was going to be one interesting—and torturous—Christmas season.
End of Excerpt
