Page 7 of Snowed in with the Rancher

He started up the engine and slowly maneuvered the vehicle back the way he must have come, his previous tracks still evident in the snow, though they were rapidly filling up as the snow came down thicker and the wind began to blow it around. But he didn't seem worried, saying casually, “He's been a search and rescue dog since he was a pup. Ten years. He's a pro, and a big help. We have two other dogs who work rescues too, but Lobster was the original one, and he's had special training in Billings.”

Silence settled between them as Tate drove the ATV carefully over the newly fallen snow. Now that the girls were safe, Olivia's mind began to process the fact that their father, who hadn't known they existed and didn't know they were his, was sitting next to her in a snowstorm in the wilds of Montana. She'd dreamed about this moment, secretly hoped for it since getting the job offer, but she still hadn't really thought it would happen. All she could think was that she should be better prepared. She should have thought up something to say. Because here, now, in the moment…she was drawing a blank.

“So,” she said warily. “What are the odds?”

He glanced at her, a wry smile on his face. “About a million to one, I'd guess,” he answered.

After another pregnant pause, he asked, “So what brought you to Montana?”

She took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart. “A job,” she answered as nonchalantly as possible. “I've just been hired as the new executive director of Dreams for Disabilities. Their office is in town, and we're staying at the lodge for a few days until our moving truck gets here.”

Wedged against him as she was, she felt him stiffen slightly at the information, but then he rolled his shoulders and relaxed. Glancing at his expression told her nothing.

“Well, congratulations,” he said politely, his gaze steady on the path ahead. As far as she could judge, it wasn't the reaction of a man who was thrilled to hear an old flame had come to town.

Olivia's heart sank. He didn't seem happy about them living in the same town—but after the way she'd vanished on him years before, maybe that was to be expected.

Before she could say anything else, they came to a clearing where a traditional two-story log cabin sat. The front of the property was a traffic circle that connected to a long drive wandering away into the trees. A deep covered porch ran the width of the building and wrapped around the sides. A porch swing hung to one side of the front door, and a table and chairs sat on the other side. Chopped firewood was neatly stacked by the rafters of the porch, and a big blue pickup truck was parked in the circular driveway.

“So…” Tate said as he pulled the ATV parallel to the front porch and switched off the ignition. “This is my place. It was closer than the lodge and didn't require crossing the Molly Bridge.”

He climbed out and walked around to her side. “That bridge is fine for snowshoers and pedestrians, but it really isn't safe for ATVs.” He glanced back at the trailer where the two girls were fast asleep next to the devoted Lobster. “With her ankle hurt, I would have had to carry her the last mile to the lodge—she's light, but it still would have slowed us down, and I didn't want to spend the extra time with this storm coming in.”

As Olivia stepped off the ATV, he caught her hand to help her. Even though they were both wearing gloves, a jolt of electricity ran through her as if she'd brushed against a live wire. Her breath caught in her throat. She saw his gaze fixed on her, and her own vision focused on his perfect face for what felt like several heated moments. His amber eyes flashed with something indecipherable, and she couldn't stop herself from looking over his sharp cheekbones, strong jaw covered with scruff, and lips she knew from experience were so much softer than they looked.

“Um, go on in, door's open,” he said gruffly. “I'll get the girls.”

She nodded wordlessly and gathered her backpack, but paused to look at the sky. It was dark gray now, the air filled with blowing snow, and she wondered just how long she and the girls would be stuck here with this man who hadn't yet realized that her daughters were alsohis.

* * *

Half an hour later, both girls were tucked into the queen bed in Tate's spare room, and Olivia was seated at his kitchen counter with a warm cup of hot chocolate in her hands.

“I see you're about to start decorating.” She pointed to the box of Christmas ornaments his stepmother had dropped off earlier. “Do you do the decorations, or does your…” Her voice trailed off in a question.

“No one does the decorations,” he muttered as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He motioned to the living room sofa and shoved the box of decorations into a corner with his foot. “I'm single,” he explained, “but my stepmother thinks this place needs a woman's touch, so she dropped the decorations off for me. I'm not actually planning to use them.” He shrugged.

“It's a lovely place,” Olivia said, sitting on the opposite end of the sofa from him. She bent one leg beneath her and angled her body so she could watch him.

“How about you?” he asked. “You haven't mentioned any mister somewhere who's wondering where you and the kids are.”

She tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. Was now the moment to tell him? He deserved to know, but they weren't exactly the easiest words to say. She was exhausted, her head muddled and her emotions all out of whack. From the terror she'd felt when Jackie had gotten hurt, to the anxiety over waiting for help to come, to the relief mixed with shock when she'd laid eyes on Tate again… The day had been an emotional rollercoaster. The whole “Surprise, you're a daddy!” conversation would have to wait until she had a chance to get some rest and hopefully clear her head. And that meant for now, she'd answer Tate's questions—and nothing more. “There's no one worrying about us. I'm a single mother.”

She could see the curiosity on his face, but to his credit, he didn't push. “Well, you're doing a great job. They're sweet kids.”

Her heart lifted a touch at the praise. Pride in and love for her girls were a constant. No amount of exhaustion or emotional confusion could stop that.

“Thank you.”

“I'm not the type, I guess…” he added, “but give me a dog, and I'm a pro.” As if summoned by the words, Lobster ambled over and put his head on Tate's knee. Tate petted the lab. “We do pretty well, don't we old man?”

Unease trickled through her veins. This didn't bode well for how he'd handle her revelation in the morning. Olivia had had just about had all she could take. She felt her eyes begin to burn with impending tears and leaped to her feet. “I'm sorry, it's been such a long day, I think I'm going to go to bed.”

Tate's brow furrowed in concern. “Of course. Can I get you anything else? I left a spare toothbrush out in the bathroom, and there are plenty of towels.”

She nodded quickly, struggling to maintain her composure. “That's fine. Thank you.” Then she turned and ran for the stairs.

FOUR

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