Kip squinted as the sunlight glinted off the frozen pond behind the lodge. The setting sun dipped low over the jagged peaks of the Rockies, casting a golden glow over the snow. She would never tire of the sight. The spruce and pines, blanketed in snow, created the perfect Christmas scene.
Inside, the air hummed with warmth and the rich scents of home cooking. Ruby, who lived with the Daniels, bustled around the kitchen, as always. Kenzie had once said Ruby had become like a mother to the family since their parents died. Kip didn’t know her all that well, but she’d always liked her.
On the other side of a long bar countertop, a long oak dining table was laden with a massive platter of slow-roasted brisket, fork-tender and glazed with a smoky bourbon sauce…Ruby’s specialty from the reaction of Trace and his brothers. But the thing that captured Kip’s attention was the towering chocolate layer cake, three tiers high, frosted with fudgy ganache and decorated with white chocolate-dipped strawberries.
She slid into the seat Trace pulled back for her, relieved when he sat beside her. Before she knew it, he was piling brisket onto her plate as if she were an over six-foot man like him, who'd been riding fence all day. She’d never be able to eat all of that, and she was a girl who liked her food. Not to mention she had to leave room for that cake.
“Um, Trace? You gave me too much. You need to put some of this on your plate.”
With knowing eyes, he asked, “What did you have for lunch?”
Uh…rude. “I had to work through lunch, as you know very well.”
Across from them, Joy and Tildi sat, still wild-haired and giggling after their games in the barn.
Kenzie reached for a biscuit. Quicker than lightning, a wooden spoon smacked her hand. Ruby, one hand on a hip and one holding her spoon high, armed and ready. “Kenzie Claire Daniels, don’t you dare.” Ruby inspected the line of wide-eyed Little girls. “You girls march yourselves to the sink and wash those hands before you have us all eating glitter and glue.”
Kip hopped up, never taking her eyes off Ruby’s spoon. She joined in with the others as they scurried to the sink, calling out, “Yes, ma’am.”
Ruby stood watch, examining each set of hands as they returned to the table. Wearing an apron dusted with flour, she presided at the head like a benevolent queen, while Griff and Dutch flanked one side, Javi and Grant the other, all of them shoulder-to-shoulder in the kind of easy camaraderie built through years of sweat and survival.
Griff nudged Dutch with his elbow. "Pass the cornbread before Trace inhales it all," "You know him and Tanner take no prisoners when it comes to food."
Dutch snorted, forking a heap of mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Says the guy who once ate half a saddlebag of jerky during astakeout. Ruby, this brisket—it's criminal. You hiding the recipe in that apron somewhere?"
Ruby beamed, sliding the platter toward him. "Flattery gets you seconds, boys. And no, it's a family secret. Though if you keep talking so sweet, maybe I'll whisper it in your ear. Trace, it’s about time you dragged Kip here to eat with us."
Trace chuckled, his arm slung casually around Kip's chair. "Dragged? She practically begged to come. Said life's too short to miss a Wild River Ranch feast."
Her heart skipped a beat, and heat flooded her face. No one had ever teased her before. She wasn’t sure how to take it, but truth be told, she liked it. Well, except for the fact that everyone was looking at her now.
Was she supposed to tease back? Was that allowed? She wanted to join in, but what if she hurt someone’s feelings? She’d die if that happened.
Nearing panic, she turned to Trace for help. Relief washed over her when he winked. "Javi, you look like you're plotting how to steal Ruby's cake. I’m warning you now, if you do, you might have a problem with Kip."
Javi smirked, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Guilty. But only 'cause Grant here's too busy staring out the windows to appreciate it. You expecting uninvited guests at the dinner table now, Grant?"
Grant leaned forward. Even though, as ranch security chief, he was never fully off-duty, a rare grin cracked his stern face. "If I saw them, I wouldn’t let them in. This meal is too good to share. Ruby, you've outdone yourself."
"Here, here," Tanner raised his glass of iced tea. "To Joy and Tildi: one year of ruling Wild River like true cowgirls. And to Ruby, for keeping us all fed and in line."
The table erupted in cheers, glasses clinking amid laughter. Tildi piped up from her seat. "Cake now?"
Boone kissed the top of her head. “Cake after you clean your plate, babygirl, not before."
Tildi drew out a long, “But Daddy!” Boone cut it short with a look.
Trace turned to Kip. “I’m training the dogs this weekend,” he announced. “Would you like to help?”
Kip, perched beside Trace with a forkful of mashed potatoes halfway to her mouth, froze. Dogs? She loved dogs. Her parents had been too busy to consider getting a family pet, but she’d always wanted one.
But what if she got in the way? What if the dogs hated her and growled? She needed more information. “What kind of dogs?”
His voice was smooth as freshly planed timber. “Last Christmas, I gave each of the girls a puppy. They are at the perfect age to start training as perimeter guard dogs. I need to work with them for a few weeks, and then they will start helping, too. I think you’d like it. I know I would.”
His words grazed over her skin like a match dragged slowly across striker paper, and when that wicked smile curved his mouth, the blaze roared straight to her core, hungry and unstoppable. She shivered, trying to settle herself. “That doesn’t tell me what kind they are. Are they mean?”
Trace snorted. “Relax, babygirl. These pups wouldn’t hurt a fly. They’re just like me, fun and lovable to the core.”
