Page 19 of A Prince for Christmas

Jenny looked down and said, “ Jennifer Miller at your service, sir.”

Nick’s lips curled into an amused smile. “Charmed, Ms. Miller,” he murmured, repeating the ritual with Lizzie, who for this occasion had become Elizabeth.

I hardly had a chance to be embarrassed at my sister’s behavior before my father stepped over to Nick and held out his hand. “John Miller. Happy to have you with us for the holidays.”

Nick grasped his hand firmly and gave him a robust handshake, the kind Dad liked. “Nick Lancaster, sir. I appreciate the invitation. It means the world to me to have someplace to spend Christmas, since I’m here in the states by myself.”

“We’re real happy to see you here with Emily, too,” Dad said. “Can’t say much for that fellow she was seeing before.”

“I probably shouldn’t say this,” Nick said, dropping his voice as if I couldn’t hear, but flashing a conspiratorial smile at me. “But I couldn’t agree with you more.”

My father chuckled. “Good man. I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a little problem in the barn. You know anything about cows?”

“Only that they are ruminants and that they produce milk,” Nick said with a broad grin.

“You want to learn a little more?” Dad asked with a glint of humor in his eye. “I’ve got one about to calve.”

I cringed. It was just like Dad to take one look at a city guy and decide to have a little fun with him. It would probably scar poor Nick for life.

“That’s okay, Dad,” I said quickly. “We’ve got to get these bags inside.”

“Just leave ‘em,” Dad said. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“Please don’t,” I begged. “He’s already had to help me change a tire.”

“Don’t touch the bags,” Nick said, grabbing my hand and giving it a quick squeeze. “I insist. I’ll bring them in just as soon as I’ve visited with your father. Okay?”

“You didn’t know how to change a tire?” Dad asked in disbelief.

“I do now, thanks to your brilliant daughter,” Nick said. “I’d love to learn about the cattle as well.”

“You really wouldn’t,” I told him with a grimace. “It’s not pretty.”

“Nonsense,” Nick said. “I want to know all about your life, Em. I’ll be back in no time.”

As they headed for the barn, I pressed my eyes tight shut and resisted the urge to throttle Dad or cling onto Nick and beg him not to do it. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

My dad was a legendary practical joker, though, and he couldn’t resist the urge to prove that ranching was as tough a job as any wealthy man had.

I turned to Mom, trying to distract myself from what was surely a frightful scene for poor Nick. “Which one of the cows is calving, Mom?”

“It’s Bessie,” she said. “You know how she can be.”

Bessie was one of only two milk cows on the ranch, all the rest were beef cows, kept for sale. Two cows produced far more milk than our family needed, but with only one, there was always a gap in milk production. We used the rest to feed the pigs, who loved it, and to make cream and butter. Of the two milk cows, Bessie was a special pet, having come to the ranch when I was only five. She was also temperamental, especially when she was expecting, but she loved all of us in her bovine way.

Mom seemed calm as always, but when I turned to my sisters, I was dismayed at the worried look on their faces. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

Jenny burst into giggles and hid her face in her mittens.

As the men walked off and my mother retreated to the kitchen, I turned in either direction, not sure what to do. Surely Dad wouldn’t do anything awful, like asking Nick to help pull a calf. I simply couldn’t picture Nick elbow deep in old Bessie’s business. Dad wouldn’t do that, would he? I thought I might actually die if he did.

Before I could worry more, Lizzie grabbed me by the hand and all but dragged me toward the front porch. Jenny headed the other way.

We all arrived at the glassed-in back porch about the same time, Lizzie with me in tow, and Jenny with a tray of cups of cocoa and Mom’s famous Christmas cookies.

“You made the cookies without me?” I asked, feeling left out, even though I couldn’t expect them to wait for me when I hadn’t come home until Christmas Eve day.

“You weren’t here,” Jenny pointed out. “We can make more.”