The Rancher's Christmas Princess by Christine Rimmer Page A

used to be filled up with love
and...I don’t know, smiles and kisses and cookies and all that stuff.”
    She studied his profile. He was easy to look at. “What a
beautiful way to put it.”
    He grunted. “I’m just glad—that he’s okay, I mean.”
    “He is. He will be.”
    “And I want him to start getting used to me being around.”
    “Yes, he must come to know you, to trust you, to look to you
for comfort, to count on you. That’s important.”
    “So I can help with the bath?” He looked so handsome and
hopeful. “Or at least, you know, be there, if it doesn’t upset him to have me
there....”
    “Yes. Absolutely, you may.”
    “Whew.” He braced his arms on his bent knees. “I was worried
you would say no with him already so upset and all.”
    “Anything that brings you and Ben closer together, nearer to
being the family you need to be...I will always say yes to that, Preston.” He
looked at her then, admiration in his eyes. She wished he would never look away,
even though she knew her wish was completely selfish. And purely futile. What
could they have together? He loved this ranch. It was in his blood, his DNA.
    He wasn’t going to leave it to marry a princess and live in
Montedoro.
    And she believed in the work she did. She found meaning and
purpose in her life. Moving to Montana to be a rancher’s wife, it wasn’t the
life she’d always imagined for herself.
    So what would they have, then?
    A love affair? A fling? She’d never been a woman who engaged in
affairs. She didn’t think she was ready to become such a woman now.
    No, it wasn’t going to happen with them.
    And she needed to remember that.
    She said, “We must speak about Christmas.”
    “Must we?” He was teasing her.
    She remained serious. “Yes. How do you celebrate the holidays
here in Montana?”
    “In Elk Creek? Enthusiastically. There are any number of
Christmassy goings-on. Community events. Church stuff. Here at the ranch? It’s
been years since we even put up a tree.”
    “That will have to change. Children need...ritual. They need to
celebrate, to experience...wonder. To know joy.”
    “Joy, huh?” He nudged her with his shoulder, the way he had
done that morning, when he finally stopped being so angry about Anne having kept
Ben from him.
    “Yes,” she said firmly. “Joy. Definitely. And you mentioned
church activities. What church do you attend?”
    “Er, we used to be Catholics, when my mom was alive. Now I
would call us basically lapsed.”
    “Community, Preston. It’s so important. And regular church
attendance helps a child to feel more a part of his community, to be more a part of his community. Plus, it never hurts
to bring a child up with an awareness of a higher power.”
    He was watching her again, his head tipped to the side. “A
higher power, huh?”
    She nodded. “I’m trying very hard not to be pushy about
this.”
    “But you want me and Dad and Ben to be churchgoing folk.”
    “At least consider it. We could all go together this
Sunday.”
    “You say that so sweet and all. But I’ve noticed you’re a very
strong-minded kind of woman. When you want something done, it tends to get
done.”
    Why lie about it? “I am strong-minded, yes.” She gave him a
bright smile. “So, then. Sunday Mass. We’re agreed on that.”
    He held her gaze for longer than he should have—longer than she
should have allowed. Yearning rose within her for...more. With him. Of him. Slowly, he nodded. “Church on Sunday. Sure.”
He looked out over the foyer again.
    With difficulty, she found her voice and suggested, “And as far
as the Christmas traditions you need to start establishing, do you have
decorations or will we be buying those?”
    He answered rather gruffly. “I think we do have decorations up
there in the attic somewhere.”
    “Will you find them and bring them down?”
    “I’ll do that.”
    “Wonderful. And we’ll need a tree.”
    “No problem. We got trees coming out our ears around