Forever Santa by Leeanna Morgan

rancher.”
    Trent poured himself a mug of coffee and sighed. “The only pregnant females this hot-shot rancher deals with have four hooves. Do you have anything to eat?”
    Jordan pulled a square tin out from the pantry. “Peanut butter cookies.”
    Trent looked at the thick, golden, cookies. “Mrs. Davies?”
    Jordan grinned. “Yep.” He wiped his hands on his jeans and reached for a folder on the counter. “Take a look at these. I printed them off the computer last night. Thought they might make good images on the website.”
    Trent opened the folder and glanced at each photo. Jordan had found pictures of the barn, a few shots of horses, cattle, and the ranch hands working. Then there was a shot of Gracie leaning against a shovel with a grin a mile wide on her face.
    Jordan looked over Trent’s shoulder. “That was when Gracie first arrived on the ranch. Mucking out the barn was still a novelty.”
    Trent smiled and remembered Gracie sitting in the middle of the hayloft, her red hair spilling all over the place with a tiara perched on the side of her head. It had been the beginning of something neither of them had expected.
    “Does the goofy grin mean you like the photos or just one in particular?”
    Trent closed the folder and pushed them back to Jordan. “They’re great photos.”
    “Good.” He left the folder on the counter and went back to work. “Did Gracie tell you we saw Tracey last night?”
    Trent glanced at his brother, then walked across to the sink to wash his mug. “She said something about it.”
    “She’s dating some guy from Kansas. He’s working here for a few months.”
    “Could be interesting when he heads home.”
    “She might go with him.”
    Trent’s hand hovered over the dish towel. “You’ve talked to her?”
    “Last week. The guy’s name is William.”
    “William?”
    “The dumb ass she’s dating. He’s a computer engineer. Works for a big company that’s got offices around the world.”
    Trent put the mug back in the pantry. “Sounds like an interesting job.”
    Jordan grunted, then rolled another drop sheet into a ball. “He’s probably earning shit loads of money.”
    “Probably.”
    “You’re not helping.” Jordan carried a plank of wood across the room, then disappeared down the stairs.
    Trent looked around Jordan’s apartment. With two bedrooms, an impressive bathroom, and an open plan living room and kitchen it was bigger than the bunkhouse Jordan was sharing.
    By the time his brother got back, Trent had moved most of the leftover building gear out of one of the bedrooms. “You don’t need my help with Tracey. What you need is another pair of hands to clean up this mess.” He picked up an empty paint bucket and walked across to a pile of trash. “I’ll take all of this downstairs. Where are you putting it?”
    “Leave it on the second floor by the landing. It’s quicker moving everything floor by floor, otherwise you spend most of the time going up and down the stairs.”
    Trent turned to leave, then stopped. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ve had a lucky break. You can’t make someone love you when they don’t. It’s better finding out now and not a few years into your marriage.” He wished his first wife had figured that out before she’d married him. It would have saved a lot of heartache and misery. But then he might not have met Gracie, and he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
    “And don’t sell yourself short. There’s a lot of women you could love. It’s just a matter of finding the right one.”
    Jordan didn’t seem impressed. “I’m going to concentrate on the ranch vacation business.”
    “It’s probably a lot safer,” Trent said as he took the trash downstairs.
     

 
     
     
     
    CHAPTER NINE
     
    Gracie looked up from the sewing machine. Mrs. Davies left a hot mug of herbal tea beside her and she sniffed the lemony brew. “I thought making eight sets of bedroom curtains would be a breeze.”
    “Making