The Rancher's Wife by April Arrington Read Free Book Online Page B

Amy’s steps faltered on the slippery ground. It’d been so long since she’d spent the holidays at home with family. Since she’d left Raintree, the color and comfort of Christmas had faded and the holiday had contorted into a pale passing of a day. A low and lifeless one she’d grown accustomed to spending alone.
    Amy swallowed the lump in her throat and strived for a light tone. “Why are all the decorations out already? Mama used to say it was a sin to put up Christmas lights before Thanksgiving was over.”
    Logan glanced over his shoulder, his words reaching her in puffy, white drifts. “I imagine Betty was beside herself last night when we didn’t make it back like we’d planned. She probably got overanxious and decided to keep herself busy.”
    Amy smiled. Next to cooking, her mother’s second favorite pastime was decorating. Not a single holiday passed without Betty celebrating it in style.
    â€œBetty knows how much you used to love Christmas at Raintree.” Logan waited for her to reach his side, his big palm wrapping around her upper arm to assist her up the steps. “She wants to make this visit perfect for you. We all do.”
    Amy’s blood rushed at the husky note in his voice and she curled her fingers around the handle of her bag, tamping down the urge to lean in to him.
    Hold on to your heart . This time, she wouldn’t mistake friendship for love. What she felt for Logan was old-fashioned lust and misguided hero worship. She’d do well to remember that.
    A loud jingle sounded, both wreaths swinging on their doors as a small figure burst out of the house.
    â€œAmy.”
    Betty’s red bangs ruffled in the night breeze, her green eyes glistening with moisture.
    Amy’s vision blurred. “Hi, Mama.”
    She drew her bag in against her thigh and dipped toward the floor of the porch, the length of her limbs becoming awkward. Betty’s short stature had always made Amy wither, trying not to loom over her.
    Betty’s warm palms cradled her cool cheeks then traveled down her arms to caress her wrists. She gently lifted Amy’s arms out to the side, trailing her gaze from the top of her head to the tips of her shoes.
    â€œYou look beautiful. I think you grew another inch since I saw you last. You’re just as tall as your father was.” Betty dabbed at the corners of her eyes and smiled. “I’m so glad you came home.” She stretched up on her tiptoes, her kiss grazing the curve of Amy’s jaw. “I’ve missed my sweet girl.”
    â€œI’ve missed you, too.”
    Much more than she’d realized. Amy wrapped her arms around her mother in a tight embrace. The rich scent of cinnamon and butter lingered on Betty’s white chef’s apron, releasing in sweet puffs with each of Amy’s squeezes.
    Amy giggled and nuzzled her cheek against Betty’s silken hair. “You smell like cookies.”
    â€œThat’s because I’ve been baking your favorite ones all afternoon.”
    â€œCinnamon and sugar?”
    â€œStacked a mile high,” Betty said, laughing. She released Amy and tugged at Logan’s shoulders, kissing his cheek when he bent his head. “Thank you for bringing her home safely, Logan. I was worried the storm would keep you from making it.”
    â€œYou think we’d let a bit of ice keep us from your cooking?” A crooked grin broke out across Logan’s face and his dark eyes sparkled. “Not a chance.”
    Betty patted his broad chest, her smile widening. “I made your favorites, too. The green bean casserole and sweet potato soufflé are ready and waiting.” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “Let’s get inside. It’s too chilly out here for comfort.”
    Logan nudged the small of Amy’s back, spurring her step on. She followed Betty’s jubilant advance into the cheery interior of the house and found the