Page 18 of A Prince for Christmas

Nick seemed fascinated by Evan’s leatherwork and asked dozens of questions as Evan showed him around the workshop. I concentrated on getting the gifts into the car without letting Nick see his present. Afterwards, we drove through the cozy little town with lights twinkling on the gazebo in the square and a big tree. I loved our town, the closest one to the ranch, even though we lived a ways out. As a teenager, I’d spent evenings caroling, helping decorate, and handing out canned goods in the weeks leading up to the holidays, and I missed it now that I was away at school.

The rest of the trip to the farm was pleasantly uneventful. Nick alternated between holding my free hand and resting his arm on the seat so he could rest a hand on my shoulder. I pointed out interesting sights and talked about the area’s history. His questions told me he was truly interested, and when we drove by a herd of antelopes grazing with some cattle, nothing would do except to stop so he could get pictures. He would’ve passed out from excitement if I found some elk for him, or even better, a mountain lion.

I always loved arriving at the ranch. Set in a valley with hills and mountains rising behind it, that first moment, when I came over the hill and saw it all spread out below, green in spring, golden in fall, or white in winter, it always took my breath away. I pulled to a stop at the top of the hill, spread my arms to take in the scene, and said “Here it is. Rochester Creek Ranch.”

“Oh, how lovely,” Nick exclaimed. “You didn’t tell me you were raised in the middle of paradise.”

I chuckled. “I didn’t really appreciate it until I went to Bozeman for college. It always seemed exciting, visiting the ‘big city.’ But living there really isn’t my thing.”

He smiled wistfully at me. “I can’t imagine you living in London, dealing with real congestion and crowding.”

Maybe he was thinking how impossible a future with me was, too. I pushed the thought away and focused on the excitement of the holidays. “Here we go,” I said. “I have to warn you. My family is a bit nuts. Jenny and Lizzie are completely excitable, and Dad’s not much better.”

I had to smile as I thought of Dad. “When I was eleven, I wanted my own horse for Christmas. Dad told me it just wasn’t the time, that I was too young to take care of a horse, that winter was the wrong time to start a new animal on the farm, that he couldn’t afford it, so I shouldn’t get my hopes up. I had learned not to trust Dad about these things, so I suggested that Santa might bring me a horse, ‘preferably a palamino, at least 16 hands, as I planned to grow some more.’ He guffawed and told me I was too old to believe in Santa, and maybe I should start looking for an after-school job to buy my horse.”

I paused, smiling at the memory.

“Then what happened?” Nick demanded.

That brought me back to reality. “On Christmas morning, I went down to breakfast and Dad wasn’t there. When I asked where he was, Mom turned away. Jenny announced, “We don’t know. He went out after you went to bed, looking for Dora and Isabel. He hasn’t come back.” Her eyes were wide, and she looked absolutely terrified, so I never questioned it. Remember, I was eleven.”

“Go on then.”

“By the way, Dora and Isabel were two yearling heifers who shouldn’t have been out in the pasture by the barn.”

“Then what?” Nick urged, clearly as engaged in listening to my story as I was to telling it.

“Jenny said he’d forgotten his phone, which was on the counter. That should have clued me in, but I was in a panic by this point. ‘Did he say which way he was going?’ I demanded. My sister said he was checking the meadow halfway up the hill, where he’d found them before. By this time, I was totally in a panic. I jumped up from the breakfast table and started putting on my heaviest winter gear, even though it was around 30 degrees. I said I’d go get him, and they should all stay there, in case he showed up.”

“At this point, Mom chimed in. ‘You shouldn’t do this Emily. It’s dangerous out there. Your dad is a grown man.’ I heard her say something under her breath. Later, I figured out she was muttering ‘at least he’s supposed to be.’ But I just had to do it. I took Dad’s phone, so they could call me in case he came back.

“There was about a foot of snow on the ground, but it wasn’t all that cold. In the barn, old Neddy was enjoying a late breakfast of yummy grain, with just the right touch of molasses. He was still sound and perfectly able to carry a rider, but not inclined to do so without some persuasion. He glared at me as I saddled him up, but seemed to sigh his acquiesce when I gave him a crispy fall apple and promised more if he found Daddy.

“Up the hill we went, the snow spraying out behind us with every step. Neddy wasn’t inclined to move fast, either, no matter how often I kicked him in the ribs with my snow boots. One step at a time, we moved up the snowy hill.

“You’ve probably guessed it already, but when we finally got to the meadow, Dad was there with Dora and Isabel on a rope lead. He was riding Zeus, his coal-black gelding, and beside him, wearing a tooled-leather saddle and harness, was the most beautiful horse I’d ever seen. Pale gold with a snowy mane and tail, she was dancing in the snow, obviously bored and ready for something to happen.

“My first feeling was a huge wave of relief. Dad was alive and well. Then came fury. He’d nearly scared me to death. Finally, joy, excitement, and love. I told him he’d nearly scared me to death, and he said that was the whole idea. He asked what I was going to name her. I already had one picked out—Iris, the goddess of rainbows.”

“Well, you were only eleven,” Nick said, arching a brow at me.

“Hey,” I protested with a laugh. “That’s a very good name, I’ll have you know. I jumped down from dirt-brown Neddy, gave him a reward apple, a good nose scratch, a little nose kiss, and handed his reins to Dad.”

I still recalled the first time I approached Iris. Very slowly, I moved toward her, as she danced on coltish hoofs in the snow. She calmed a little when I held out my hand, with a nice carrot in it, and nibbled it delicately. Reaching up to rub her mane, I reached into another jacket pocket and pulled out an apple, and the bond was made. I could feel it as clearly as if it had been a steel chain connecting us. I looked deep into her golden-brown eyes, and she looked back, even before chomping the apple. Our bond was sealed, a love that would last for both of our lives.

Placing a foot in the stirrup, I swung up into the saddle that felt like it was made for me. I held the reins loosely, and whispered, “Iris. Beautiful Iris.”

By the time we made it back to the ranch, I’d forgiven Dad and my siblings for their deception. I’d also fallen in love with Iris, and by the time I had rubbed her down and given her an extra portion of molasses-rich grain for her efforts, I was hers, and she was mine.

I finished telling Nick the story as we headed down the dirt road that led to the ranch. Pulling to a stop in front of the house, a sprawling ranch house that faced the mountains, I turned to him, butterflies in my belly. “Here we are. Watch out for my sisters, they’re a menace.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nick replied, laughter in his voice.

CHAPTER 8

The minute the car came to a stop, we were surrounded by my family. Mom headed straight for my door, pulled me out and nearly smothered me with a hug. Dad stood back just a bit, waiting his turn until I wrapped him in a bear hug. As to Nick, he barely had a chance to get out of the car before my sisters made a dash for him. Watching from one eye as I hugged Dad, I noticed that they weren’t jumping all over him. Instead, they were executing perfect English curtsies. I guess they had figured out that he was English.

Nick’s face took on a grave expression as he solemnly bowed in response to their curtsies.