A Snowbound Cowboy Christmas. Amanda Renee

wasn’t a free pass to eat whatever she wanted, but sometimes you just had to make an exception. She just hoped they didn’t bring out pancakes because then somebody would have to roll her out the door.

      “Good morning.” Sandy greeted her at the table. “I didn’t expect to see you up this early. I saw you drooling over the coffee. Would you like a cup of decaf? I brewed a pot a few minutes ago.”

      “No thank you. It gives me cotton mouth and just makes me crave the real thing that much more.” Emma unwrapped her silverware from her napkin and began cutting into her French toast. “Please give my compliments to the chef on those muffins. They are amazing. I haven’t tried anything else yet, but I’m sure it will be as good, if not better than it smells.”

      “You really like the muffins?” Sandy beamed. “I made them. And Melinda made the French toast. I don’t know if you met her or not last night. She’s another server here.” Sandy looked around the room. “She’s the tall blonde over by the kitchen door. The one that looks like she should be modeling for Sports Illustrated instead of working on a ranch. Rhonda’s also on kitchen duty this morning because the staff still couldn’t make it in due to the road closures. She’s the one with the reddish-purple updo next to Melinda. The chefs don’t live on the ranch like we do.”

      “You made this?” Emma waved her fork. “Did you also make last night’s dinner?”

      “We sure did. We’re all cross-trained here. I love cooking so it’s always a treat for me to cook for everyone.” Sandy grabbed a heated syrup pitcher from the buffet and set it in front of her. “Here, in case you want some more.”

      “This is incredible. You should move into the kitchen instead of serving.”

      “I had planned to, but then Jax said he was selling the ranch.” Sandy grimaced. “But now that it’s not for sale, I’ll have that chance again. Unless you changed Dylan’s mind last night.”

      “No chance of that.” Guilt crept into Emma’s heart. The woman had dreams and aspirations and she was there to take them away. Wonderful. “Any word on how much snow we had overnight?”

      “Eight inches. Not quite the foot they had expected. Normally we don’t see this type of accumulation until late January or early February. But it has been known to happen.”

      “So I guess you’re still stuck with me.” Emma tried to smile. The snow worked in her favor at the moment, but unless she could change Dylan’s mind, she’d go stir-crazy on the ranch.

      “We’re all in this together. Don’t worry. We have plenty of provisions and the lodge has generators in case we lose power. Dylan’s brother Harlan is a deputy sheriff in town so he’ll keep us updated on the roads.” Sandy pulled out a chair next to her and sat down. “You and Dylan looked awfully cozy in the cab of the snowcat when you pulled out of here last night.”

      Emma wiped at her mouth, no longer hungry. “As cozy as two people can get when the driver has both of his hands full steering a multi-ton vehicle across the snow. Believe me when I tell you, Dylan has no plans to sell this place. He won’t even discuss it.”

      “I already knew that. I thought maybe there was a romance brewing between you two.”

      She pushed her plate aside. “You are out of your mind. Don’t take this the wrong way, but this lifestyle isn’t for me. I’m used to having every amenity available at a moment’s notice. We have road closures, but never like this. At least not where I live in Chicago. I’m blocks away from the hospital so they clear those roads first. This is very—”

      “Calming, if you allow it to be.”

      Emma covered her mouth for fear she might burst out laughing. The Montana wilderness was not calming to her. It was terrifying in more than one way.

      “Maybe he’ll take you out for a private sleigh ride today.” Sandy nibbled her bottom lip. “Can you just imagine?”

      Emma had never been the hopeless-romantic type. Even romantic was questionable. She’d read the fairy tales and had hoped her Prince Charming would sweep her off her feet one day. Then she had gotten knocked up and her boyfriend walked out on her. So much for romance. And hopeless? Yeah, she was feeling pretty hopeless right now, considering she couldn’t even convince Dylan to listen to her.

      “I think you’re super excited about your wedding and you’re trying to play matchmaker. You’re conveniently forgetting I’m carrying another man’s baby.”

      “But I overheard you tell Dylan that he wasn’t in your life.”

      “That’s right, he’s not.”

      “Then what’s the problem? Dylan loves kids. He still misses the ones he lost when Lauren divorced him. And you challenge each other.”

      “How do you know that?” Emma jabbed her fork into a piece of French toast. It would be a shame to let it go to waste. “I’ve only been here for a day.”

      “I see the way you look at each other. And the way he sang to you last night.” Sandy fanned herself with her hand. “Now that was hot.”

      “It was a Christmas song, not a love song,” Emma protested.

      “But you were standing under the mistletoe.”

      “An unfortunate misstep on my part. It’s not like he came over and kissed me afterward.”

      “And what if I had?” Dylan said from behind her.

      Emma froze. Mouth-open, fork-in-hand, syrup-dripping froze. Now, she was going to die.

      * * *

      DYLAN KNEW HE wasn’t playing fair. Then again, Emma hadn’t played fair since the day they had met.

      “I’ll give you two a little privacy.” Sandy stood and held out her chair for him.

      Before he even had a chance to sit, Emma rose. “I should be going, too.”

      “Going where? The ranch is snowed in.”

      Emma’s pinky grazed his. It was innocent and intimate in the same breath. And dammit if it hadn’t left him wanting more. He moved his chair a few inches farther away from hers before he sat down.

      “Did you change your mind about hearing my proposal?”

      “No.” He shook his head. “But I would like to pick your brain”

      Emma’s eyes widened. “About the ranch? Dylan, I have a conference call this afternoon and I have to explain how I can’t convince you to give me a few hours of your time. Yet, you want to pick my brain, as you put it, over the ranch. Yeah, um, I’m sorry. That’s not going to happen.”