Page 47 of Snowed in with the Rancher

“That's great,” Roxanne said as she waited for Olivia to finish loading her own plate. Then the two women went to sit at one of the smaller tables set up in the living room. Lucy and Thomas had invited so many people, there was no way to seat everyone at one table together.

Once they were settled, Roxanne continued. “I have to tell you the truth.” She lowered her voice and leaned in toward Olivia. “If you hadn't come along, I don't think Tate would have ever had a family. He's a good man, but…” Her voice faded as she shrugged apologetically.

Olivia sighed. Yes. She knew. Hewasa good man. And underneath all his self-protective armor, he was also a loving and generous man. But the effort it took to find that guy required more energy than she knew she had. As much as it hurt her heart, she couldn't continue to fight him on his insistence that he wasn't cut out to be a family man.

Olivia was tapped out, and she was woman enough to admit it. “He's…” she paused, wondering how to say it diplomatically. “Going to be a good father.” There. She'd leave it at that.

“I guess there's no chance the two of you will get back together?” Roxanne asked softly.

She shook her head, stirring the green beans on her plate with the tip of her fork before spearing a piece of bacon. “We discussed it, but it doesn't really fit with his plans. He wasn't expecting all this. I get it. It's a lot to get used to.”

Roxanne took a big gulp of wine. “It would be good for him to have to get used to something for once. His mother was the sweetest woman alive, and also all about family. She would have hated how he's chosen to live his life. All alone, pushing everyone away.” She shook her head, mirroring Olivia's earlier gesture. “And I don't believe for a minute that's actually what makes him happy.”

Olivia didn't know what to believe anymore. She just knew she wasn't going to spend more time trying to convince him to love her enough to make her fantasies come true. It was tearing her apart inside, and she couldn't afford that. She needed to be able to focus on her girls and her new job. She didn't have the bandwidth for a man who didn't want to be with her.

“Well,” she told Roxanne. “I want him to be happy, so I hope he is.” She gave the other woman a tight smile, then changed the subject.

No, Olivia didn't have what Tate needed, and she wasn't sure any woman ever would. But that didn't mean she wouldn't ache for the loss of him for a good long while. Maybe even forever.

TWENTY

It was nearly ten p.m. when Tate finally returned home after the Christmas gathering at his parents' house. He'd said goodbye to the girls and taken the leftovers Lucy had insisted on giving him. Now as he entered the darkened house and stopped to give Lobster a scratch on the head, he realized that he was alone in his own home for the first time in weeks.

He put the food away in the refrigerator and took a seat on the sofa. Lobster rested his head on Tate's knee, and he petted the old lab as he looked at the lights on the Christmas tree. He smiled, remembering all the ruckus the girls had created decorating the tree. At the moment, the house seemed almost eerily quiet without their little chipmunk voices carrying down from the upstairs bedroom.

Then Tate spied a single gift still sitting beneath the tree, about the size of a paperback book. There was no way they'd missed unwrapping a present during the frenzy that morning. The girls were devoted to presents, both giving and receiving. They'd never have missed a gift.

“Did Santa Claus slip in here while I was gone?” he asked Lobster as he leaned forward and snagged the box.

Lobster yawned before curling up on his pillow near the fireplace.

Tate looked at the gift, shook it a bit, then turned it over. On the other side was a small gift tag with his name written on it. Recognizing Olivia's handwriting, he carefully lifted the taped ends of the package, then unfolded the decorative paper. Inside was a leather picture frame, stitched like one of the ornate saddles he'd looked at for the girls. The photo inside showed him hugging Jackie and Melissa.

He traced the outline of their sweet heads with his index finger. Olivia must have left the gift for him before they'd headed out to his parents' house earlier in the day. And now, here he was, with all the solitude he'd craved, holding this reminder that he wasn't alone anymore. These beautiful girls were his. They were part of him, and no matter how far away they might go, he'd never be able to operate as a lone wolf again.

“Well, damn,” he murmured to Lobster. Holding the frame carefully, he stared down at the picture and tried to imagine Olivia choosing the frame for him, carefully trimming the photo to fit, polishing the glass to make it crystal clear. She'd spent time choosing this gift, had put effort into it.

And he'd gotten her a gift card to the local coffee shop. “For your first day at work,” he'd said. “When you get a coffee break.”

God. What a heel he was. This. This was why he wasn't the right man for her. He didn't deserve a woman who was this thoughtful and considerate when he was such a clumsy, insensitive jerk.

Then his father's voice rang through his head. “Son, you're a total idiot.” Yeah. He was. But not for the reasons his father thought. No, he was an idiot because he had no idea how to treat a woman like Olivia, and all he did was disappoint her at every turn.

“But at least I can say thank you,” he told Lobster before reaching into his back jeans pocket and extracting his cell phone. He pulled up her number and quickly tapped out a message.

Got the photo. Can't thank you enough. It's beautiful.

He hit send and waited, laying his head back against the back of the sofa, his uncooperative ears straining for the sounds of laughter and games in the old cabin. But all he heard were Lobster's soft snores.

You're welcome, Olivia's reply came.

He stared at the message, yearning for something more from her. Wishing he could hear her voice, if only for a moment.

When nothing else came through, he typed two more words.Good night.

He waited there alone in the dark, except for the soft lights of the Christmas tree, for another hour, but a reply never came. Finally, he stood and made his way upstairs to his bedroom, where he crawled under the covers and breathed in the scent of her one last time.

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