Page 38 of Snowed in with the Rancher

Tate had no idea what she was talking about, and he didn't have any real interest in finding out. His plan had been to stop by Thomas and Lucy's for a few minutes midday on Christmas to exchange gifts, then go home, just like he did every year. The giant family dinner at Thomas and Lucy's was a tradition he went out of his way to avoid, especially since it seemed to get bigger every year. And even though they asked him to come every year, he always came up with a good excuse not to. After all, with all those people crammed into the ranch house, no one would actually miss him. They didn't need him there.

“Tate?” Olivia's voice broke him out of his thoughts. “The chocolate oranges?”

He cleared his throat and tried to calm his rising discomfort. “I've never had them, but they sound fine.”

Then Tate's gaze lit on Reed's Tack and Saddle Shop, and all his discomfort vanished like snowflakes on warm pavement.

“Hold up a minute?” he said to Olivia. She turned back expectantly. “I'd like to go in here.” He pointed to the shop. She looked confused but shrugged and followed him inside.

Tate took a long, deep breath, smelling the amazing odors of leather, oil, and wool. One entire wall of the shop contained saddles of every type and size. The back third of the space was filled with riding helmets, cowboy hats, horse blankets, and grooming equipment. And on the final wall, opposite the saddles, hung every other kind of tack imaginable. Nylon, leather, large, small, Reed's had everything a seasoned horseman could want, as well as the best beginner's setups in the state.

A smile began to curve up Tate's lips. This was the perfect thing. He'd get each girl her own set of equipment, and they could share the old pony at the ranch. While one was learning how to tack up and curry, the other could be practicing in the small ring outside the barn. This, he thought, was what a Christmas ought to be.

“Howdy, Tate,” Jess Reed said as they walked in, jingling the bell over the door.

“Jess.” He shook the older man's hand. He introduced Olivia, then turned toward the back corner of the shop where the smallest saddles were displayed.

“What can I do for you tonight?” the shopkeeper asked.

“Well, I'm wondering what you have that'd fit that little pony Dad's had around the ranch since I was a teen?”

Jess smiled. “You know someone small enough to ride old Rupert?”

Tate could feel Olivia's eyes on him. “Yep. My twin four-year-olds.”

Jess's grin grew wider. “I'd heard something about that.” He turned to Olivia again. “You must be Mama.”

“I am.”

“Well, isn't that a great thing. Just follow me, I got the best for that old pony and those little girls.”

As Jess chattered on about how excited Thomas and Lucy must be to have new granddaughters, Tate looked over the selection of pony-sized saddles. He could go with two of the same model, or he could get each girl her own unique saddle and hope he guessed right as to what each would like.

“Now that one is a pretty little thing,” Jess said as he saw Tate fingering an ornate pale leather saddle with silver conches for decoration. “Custom-made in Mexico. They do beautiful leatherwork down there.”

Olivia touched the old-fashioned cardboard price tag. “I'm not sure the girls need something quite that elaborate,” she offered, her brows puckered.

But Tate was already looking at his next choice, made of dark brown polished leather with brass stirrups and subtle decorative stitching.

He lifted it off the rack and inspected it before doing the same with the Mexican-made saddle. He examined others as well, but he kept going back to that pair.

“I think these two,” he said.

“Tate,” Olivia's voice was soft, but he heard the censure in it.

As if sensing a disagreement coming, Jess piled both saddles together in his arms. “I'll just take these up to the counter while you look around some more. If you find something you like better, we'll swap them out.” He turned away and hustled away to the front counter.

Tate met Olivia's gaze.

“That's nearly a thousand dollars' worth of saddles,” she said immediately. “Neither one of them has ever been on a horse.” She raised a skeptical eyebrow and added, “They might hate it.”

They wouldn't. He knew that as deeply as he knew Lobster loved to have his belly scratched after dinner. He knew it as well as he knew that Lucy would never stop trying to make him into a social butterfly. He knew that no child who had his DNA could turn down a horse.

“They won't,” he told her firmly. “They're my kids, so they'll adore riding. Besides, these saddles will be useful on the ranch anytime there's a kid visiting. It'll give them something to do with my dad when they visit. Don't worry about the cost—money's not an issue. I've been a single working man since I was eighteen years old, and I have plenty of money to get my girls some saddles.” He paused and looked toward the front of the shop. “In fact, I think you need one, too.”

“Oh, I don't really…” Olivia's voice faded away as Tate moved past her to the women's saddles.

“Jess?” he asked, calling the owner over from the front counter. “What about something for Olivia here?”

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