Page 49 of Snowed in with the Rancher

Tate stood on the porch of his dad's house and stared through the windows into the warmly lit living room. There sat Thomas, one girl on each knee, Lucy in the chair next to him, her reading glasses on, as Olivia held up different shoes, asking everyone's opinion on each pair before tossing them into one pile or another. They all laughed as she presented one particularly bizarre-looking pair of high heels with sequins on them and gold chains for ankle straps.

Tate had been at the ranch late, working in the barn and helping one of the horses foal. He'd decided to stop by the house to say goodnight before taking the cold, dark fifteen-minute drive home. But somehow, as he stood there on the porch watching them all, the pain in his heart was so sharp, he couldn't bring himself to open the front door.

This was what you wanted,a voice in his head reminded.You said you didn't belong there, that you didn't want to be in that picture.

But now as he looked at it, standing outside, watching the warmth and love that existed beyond the cold glass, he wanted to be there very badly. In that moment, watching all the people he loved in the world being happy without him, he finally understood what it meant to need something so badly that it overwhelmed all your fears, all your reservations and insecurities.

Because in that moment, Tate wanted a family more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.

But he'd made a choice, right? He'd told them all—over and over—that he didn't belong there. With a sigh, he turned and walked back off the porch, making his way to his truck, parked near the main barn. Then he started it up and drove away, wondering the entire time if he might have made the biggest mistake of his life.

* * *

A week later, Tate stood and watched as Olivia—hisOlivia—chatted to Deke Harper at the grand opening of the winter carnival.

Every year, the McConnell ranch sponsored the opening reception. Barbecue, local craft brews, and this year, a country trio from Butte. Most of the town came—and then nursed their resulting hangovers the next day.

This was one of Tate's favorite events of the year. While he generally preferred his quiet, solitary lifestyle, Tate did like the winter carnival. The kick-off reception was always a night to relax, catch up on the gossip from nearby towns, and evade the speculation on who was next to get married. Okay, maybe the last wasn't particularly relaxing, but he could put up with it with a reasonable amount of aplomb, usually.

But not tonight.

No, tonight, Tate was facing down the specter of Olivia in public, mingling among the people of his hometown, making friends and charming the men everywhere she went. In a state that had more men than women, a new single, attractive young woman was cause not only for celebration but quick action. He'd watched no fewer than three bachelors introduce themselves to Olivia. And now she was laughing at something Deke Harper had to say.

Deke Harper wasn't funny. Ever.

“Could have used you out on Highway 6 yesterday,” Vince's rough voice interrupted Tate's sour thoughts.

Tate tore his gaze away from Olivia and blinked at Vince.

“Had a car slide into the ditch there by the Ramirez place. Young couple passing through to Idaho. Took forty minutes to find them. They'd ended up hood down in a six-foot drift.”

Tate's gaze had strayed to Olivia and Deke once more, but he wrenched it back to Vince. “You're the one who benched me,” he muttered, and followed the sentiment with a long drink of his beer. “Not sure even how I'm supposed to get back in your good graces. You weren't so clear on that part.”

Vince snorted. “Try not being so damned stubborn. Spend some time with friends, do right by your family.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Stop that pretty girl of yours from starting something up with Deke right under your nose.”

Tate was intimately familiar with impatience, forbearance, and tenacity. But he rarely felt anger. Pure, unadulterated, boiling-your-blood mad. Somehow, Vince had managed to pull the trigger, and Tate felt a red-hot surge of anger roll through him.

A growl erupted from somewhere inside that he didn't even know he was capable of. “They're not starting something up,” he snarled at Vince.

The older man just grinned, unrepentant. “Mm, I beg to differ. They're over there trading phone numbers.” He shook his head. “Maybe you'd better get moving before they schedule their first date.”

Tate's feet were moving before his brain had a chance to catch up, and while he realized he'd been manipulated by the wily leader of the search and rescue team, he almost immediately decided he didn't care. If it meant getting Olivia out of the clutches of Deke Harper, no cost was too high to pay.

“Olivia,” he said more sharply than he'd intended as he reached her side. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

She looked at him, a small furrow on her brow.

“Tate.” Deke held out his hand affably. “Good to see you.”

Tate glanced at the other man's hand and then back to Olivia. “We need to talk.”

Deke raised a brow and pulled his hand back, muttering something that sounded a lot like, “Okay, then.”

“Uh. Sure,” Olivia murmured before turning a bright smile on Deke. “Thank you so much for all the information. I'll make sure to get in touch when we have the program up and running. It's so generous to offer up your ranch for some of our activities.”

Deke nodded, threw Tate a wary look, then walked away.

Tate turned to face a scowling Olivia, who crossed her arms over her chest. “Well?”

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