Snowed in With the Rancher Read online

  Once she was at the top, Tate took the rope off her and tied it around his own waist, grabbing a harness device that he slung over his shoulder.

  “Okay, let me show you a few things before I go down,” he told Olivia. “This is the radio—you press this button to talk. If something were to happen to me and you needed more help, you tell them you’re about a mile north of Blind Man’s Pass on logging road six.”

  “But nothing’s going to happen to you, right?” Olivia asked warily.

  “No, nothing is,” he said flatly. “I’ve done a hundred rescues more difficult than this, and I’ve never had a problem. But part of search and rescue is preparing for all contingencies, no matter what.”

  She nodded.

  “You know how to drive one of these things?” he pointed to the ATV.

  “Yes, a friend’s brother took the girls and me camping once and had one.”

  He noticed she had yet to mention a husband or the girls’ father, and he couldn’t help wondering if she was still single. Not that it mattered, he told himself. Dating a single mother wasn’t in his wheelhouse. Dating, period, wasn’t much in his wheelhouse. A few nights here and there with a willing accomplice was more his style. It didn’t set up expectations that no one was going to fulfill anyway—neither Tate nor someone else.

  “Good. It’s best to stay put and wait for help, but if you have to…” He gave her a look that said it all—leave me here and go.

  “Be careful,” she said softly, and he felt something uncomfortable tighten in his chest. Lobster, cuddled with Melissa in the trailer hooked to the ATV, gave one sharp bark, and Tate smiled.

  “Be right back,” he said before he rappelled off the edge of the embankment.

  * * *

  Olivia held her breath as Tate hoisted himself the last bit of vertical and landed on his knees next to the ATV.

  Melissa mumbled something that sounded like, “Yay,” then closed her eyes again, burrowing into Lobster’s big body. Lobster whined and panted, and Olivia rushed over to help get Jackie out of the harness she was in, attached to Tate’s back. He knelt patiently while Olivia fussed with the straps and extricated the four-year-old, pulling her into her arms and squeezing her tight.

  “Mommy, you’re suf’cating me,” Jackie complained.

  “Everyone’s okay, now, Mom,” she heard Tate say in reassurance. “Let’s get her set up in the back, and then we’ll head to where it’s warm…” he smiled and added for the little girls’ benefit, “and there’s hot chocolate.”

  The snow was falling faster now, and both girls were obviously cold and exhausted. Olivia worked to set up Jackie as comfortably as possible in the little trailer while Tate put away his gear.

  She heard him on his radio, telling the search and rescue coordinators that everyone was safe.

  A gabble of words came in reply, followed by a spitting sound of static, which he answered, saying, “Roger that, Marjory. I’ll take them back to my place, it’s closer than the lodge, and I’m provisioned for the apocalypse, so we’ll all be fine. See you on the other side.”

  He put the radio back in the holder on the ATV dash, then got the girls two of the crinkly silver blankets rescuers always used, while Lobster faithfully lay between them to share his furry body warmth.

  “He’s such a good dog,” Olivia said as she slid into the seat of the ATV and wedged herself against Tate.

  He started up the engine and slowly maneuvered the vehicle around until it was heading back the way he’d come, still evident from the tracks he’d left in the snow. The tracks 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, was sitting next to her in a snowstorm in the wilds of Montana.

  “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 were 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 settled back. Glancing at his expression told her nothing. This was not really what she’d imagined, the few times she’d let herself dream about seeing him again.

  “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, and her jaw tightened as she fought the urge to move away from him—impossible since the ATV was packed to the gills with four people and a dog nearly as big as a person. Tate apparently hadn’t been pining for her all these years. He didn’t seem happy about them living in the same town.

  She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she had never really expected to see him again. It had been a hope, sure, but she and the girls had been happy. They’d been fine all these years. Whether the man who wasn’t part of their lives lived across the globe or across the street really didn’t matter. She and her daughters were a unit, and they didn’t need anyone else to complete them.

  But deep down, that yearning persisted. The dream that one day, she’d find him, and he’d be so happy to see them. He’d be the partner she’d never had, the perfect father for the girls. He’d save her, like he’d just done, and it would go on, every day, from then on. Yes, Olivia had harbored a fantasy for five years that Tate would rescue her from life as a lonely single mother.

  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 sat neatly stacked to the rafters of the porch, and a big blue pickup truck was parked in the circular driveway.

  “Sorry,” Tate said as he pulled the ATV parallel to the front porch and switched off the ignition. “I should have mentioned we were coming to my place instead of the lodge. This was closer 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 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 before moving to t
he door of the house. She paused to look at the sky, dark gray now, the air filled with blowing snow, and wondered just how long she’d be trapped with the one man who’d ever truly touched her heart and still seemed to have the ability to wreck it.

  * * *

  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 items 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 she followed.

  He shoved the box of decorations into a corner with his foot. “I’m single,” he explained, “and my stepmother takes that as license to try to domesticate me, every chance she gets. She dropped the decorations off with some foolish hope I’d 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 are.”

  She chuckled softly. “No, there’s no one worrying about us. I’m a very single mother—from day one.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “But you seem made for it. They’re sweet kids.”

  Her heart lifted a touch at the praise. Even if Tate was never to be interested in her again, if he could at least be interested in the girls, she’d consider it a win. The girls hadn’t asked much about their father, but she knew the day was drawing closer when they’d begin to notice that a lot of other kids had something they didn’t.

  “Thank you. We do pretty well. I hadn’t planned on them, but I’ve loved every minute since I found out.”

  “That’s great.” He shook his head. “I’m not the type, I guess...” His words faded, but then he rallied. “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?”

  Disappointment was like a cold infusion running through her veins. For so long, Olivia had comforted herself with her fantasies. Visions of walking down a street and brushing past Tate. He’d turn, take one look at her, and his eyes would light with recognition. He’d pull her into his arms, murmuring words of love, telling her how he’d been looking for her every day since she’d left that ship. And when she told him about the girls? He’d be overjoyed, instantly ready to be with them, wanting to have a wedding, live with them, take over all the things Olivia struggled with day after day—the home repairs, the car maintenance, the piles of laundry that never ended.

  But now she was faced with a man who was polite and kind but also not at all interested in rekindling what they’d had. And on top of the horrendous day she’d had and the stress of uprooting her little family to move across state lines, Olivia 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

  Tate punched the pillow for what had to be the tenth time before rolling to his back to stare up at the ceiling. He hadn’t seen Olivia in five years, and seeing her now was like a punch to the gut as he wondered yet again where things had gone wrong. Closing his eyes, he tried to will himself to sleep, but all he could think about was that perfect day on the cruise ship.

  Snorkeling. Tate was floating in the ocean, mask on his face, flippers on his feet, fish all around him. Never once in his life had he experienced the urge to snorkel. Fish were for eating, the ocean was to look at from the safety of the beach, and swimming was something you did in a pond. However, when his sexy new companion, Olivia from Washington, had suggested they take the offered snorkeling lessons together the third day of the cruise, what was a red-blooded American male supposed to do? Not to mention, Olivia would be wearing a bikini. It was a no-brainer.

  They’d been given a snorkeling lesson, then left to their own devices within a cove of crystal clear blue water. An abundance of brightly colored fish took refuge in the calm waters of the cove, along with sea turtles and the other fifteen passengers who’d signed up for the event. Tate had to admit it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

  He felt Olivia tap him on the arm as a couple of sea turtles swam by beneath them. She smiled around her mouthpiece and pointed. Since she’d asked him before they’d set out to take charge of her underwater camera, he took the hint, nodded, and snapped a couple of pictures. The light plastic camera strapped to his wrist only needed a quick click to take photos.

  He laid his hand on Olivia’s leg briefly to get her attention, then pointed ahead where an outcropping of rocks defined the edge of the cove on one side. They swam in that direction, and when they got there, Tate surfaced, pushing the mask and mouthpiece up on top of his head and seeing Olivia do the same. He reached for her quickly, pulling her around a big jagged rock and into a tiny crevice where they couldn’t be observed by the other swimmers in the cove.

  “Come here,” he whispered, pulling her closer, her breasts fitting perfectly against his chest. She’d worn a red bikini. It wasn’t terribly skimpy as far as bikinis went, but what it did show was pretty damn amazing as far as Tate was concerned.

  She grinned at him. “You didn’t think this was going to be fun, did you?”

  He let his gaze roam her pretty face, pink from the sun and shiny with droplets of water.

  “I admit, I was skeptical, but you proved me wrong.”

  “I like proving you wrong,” she teased.

  Then he kissed her, something he’d been doing nonstop since their dinner the first night on board. Two days later, and kissing her had become essential. Her tongue flicked out to taste his lips, and he slanted his head to deepen the kiss. He kept them afloat by anchoring one hand on the rocks, but with his other hand, he skimmed the curves of her waist and breasts. Adding to the caresses, he slid his leg between hers, and she chuckled against his lips.

  “I didn’t know this was part of the snorkeling lessons,” she chided, kissing him softly, first on the corner of the mouth, then along his jawline.

  “Only the best student gets a private lesson,” he murmured as his lips found her neck and his teeth explored her earlobe.

  “Glad to hear it. I’d hate to think how exhausting it would be for you to spend this much attention on all the students.”

  He smiled against her neck. Hell, if they made women like her in Montana, he’d be giving all sorts of private lessons. But Olivia was special. Even after only a few days, he knew that. And at the moment, he couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone but her. “Not to mention, I don’t think the guy with the tattoos and mohawk would take too kindly to me kissing him.”

  She laughed but stopped short as they heard a child’s voice not too far away in the water.

  “No! I’m not gonna put my head under. No, no, no!”

  Tate raised an eyebrow as Olivia’s eyes widened.

  “Joshua! Stop fighting me. You’re going to drown us both.”

  Olivia mouthed something to Tate, but he was already pushing off the rocks, leading her by the hand back toward the main part of the cove.

  As they rounded the point of rocks they’d been hiding behind, they were met with the sight of a little boy, maybe six or seven, struggling with his mother in the water. The boy was trying to head toward shore, and his mother didn’t want to let go of him. br />
  Tate glanced at Olivia, who seemed to know what he had in mind. “Go,” she said, and he released her hand and swam toward the pair. The water in the cove was relatively shallow, but the mother was in over her head, and the little boy was putting up a real fight.

  “Hey, there,” Tate said as he got closer, directing his gaze to the mother. “You need any help?”

  She gave him a tight smile as she continued to struggle with the squirming child.

  “He, uh, doesn’t want to try the snorkel, but he also seems to think he can swim all the way back to shore by himself.”

  “So are you a good swimmer, cowboy?” Tate asked casually.

  The boy stopped wiggling and looked at him suspiciously. “Yes. I can swim from one end of the pool to the other.”

  “That’s pretty good,” Tate encouraged. “So do you swim with your face out of the water in the pool?”

  The boy looked at Tate like he’d lost his mind. “Of course. No one wants water up their nose.”

  Tate nodded. “You know, I don’t have a pool at home so I swim in a pond.”

  “Really? Are there fishes in the pond with you?”

  The boy’s mother released her grip, and the kid swam closer to Tate. He was a good swimmer for such a small kid.

  “There are big old ugly catfish in there because my dad likes to fish for them.”

  The boy’s nose wrinkled.

  Tate went on, “But in my pond, the water’s not nice and clear like this.”

  The boy began to tread water in front of Tate, and he saw Olivia make her way to the mother and start chatting.

  “I’m Tate, by the way. What’s your name?”

  “Josh.” Then the boy dropped his voice to whisper, “But when my mom’s mad, she calls me Joshua.”

  Tate nodded in commiseration. “My mama used to call me Tate Dylan McConnell when she was mad at me.”

  “That’s a long name.”

  Tate nodded again, then put on a bright expression as if he’d just had the best idea in the world. “You know,” he said casually. “I was snorkeling a little while ago, and I saw some sea turtles down there, and some of the brightest-colored fish you ever saw.”