reins and grabbed the rope with both hands, tugging against the stubborn reindeer. That’s all she needed, to have Crash bolt and run. This day was already a prime disaster in the making without silly reindeer games.
She snorted at her unintentional pun. Oh, she was funny today. And it was only going to get better from here.
Marcus had come to take away the last vestiges of her life with her late husband, Justin. Mag and Jes, the Percheron team that had once drawn the sleigh taking cheery guests out into the woods to find the perfect Christmas tree, would now be part of Sheryl Ender’s breeding program—or something. They hadn’t really discussed why Sheryl wanted to purchase the draft horses from her. Last she knew, the older lady and her business partner bred and trained quarter horses for barrel racing. Percherons seemed a far cry from that, but if Sheryl had use for the Percherons and would give a good price for them, who was Sarah to complain?
At least her beloved horses were going to someone she trusted and admired. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, but she dashed them away with the back of her hand.
No more tears. She was done crying.
The only animals left at the farm after the Percherons departed would be Snort and Crash. She had no idea what she was going to do with a couple of live reindeer. Trying to sell them a week before Christmas was like trying to pawn penny candy at a gourmet chocolate shop. An added stress to an already bleak season.
The sky, which only minutes before had been a pale blue and lined with a few fluffy clouds on the horizon, had now turned a dark, ominous mixture of colors as a storm surged over the front range of the Rocky Mountains. Sarah was familiar with Colorado weather and how abruptly things could change. Some days you could get a tan in the morning and build a snowman by midafternoon. She sensed the change as much as saw it, breathed the feeling of imminent snow in the air, and moments later large white flakes were spitting from the sky.
She glanced back at Marcus. He was following close enough that she could see the half smile on his lips, but his expressive eyes were shadowed by the brim of his hat. He’d appeared every bit as shocked as she was at their unexpected encounter with each other, and she wondered what he thought about it now.
She shook her head and scoffed at herself. Why did it matter? He would load the Percherons in his trailer and be on his way within the hour. That would be the best thing for both of them, if he left without lingering. The less time they had to spend together, the better.
Unfortunately, her plan to be quickly rid of Marcus hinged on the weather, which wasn’t cooperating at all. The sky was glowing a dark purplish-gray color. Not a good sign.
By the time they reached the farm several minutes later, the ground was already covered with a fresh blanket of snow and there was no end in sight. The already snow-packed roads would be extra slick, with dangerous patches of black ice lurking just under the white blanket. Marcus’s truck was a four-wheel drive, but she doubted that would help him navigate the difficult landscape, especially with a trailer attached. Winter driving was tricky for those experienced with the conditions. She didn’t know where Marcus had been in the past twelve years, but if he still lived in Oklahoma, he wouldn’t be familiar with the ferocity of this weather.
Reaching the barn, she threw her leg across Mag’s flank and jumped to the ground, then set her heels and tugged on Crash’s rope, urging her toward the barn. One would have thought the errant reindeer would be easily tempted by the prospect of warmth and food, but apparently not. The crazy animal planted her four hooves and straightened her neck and pulled her entire weight backward.
Stubborn, stubborn reindeer.
She was still mumbling a few choice words about fur rugs and venison steaks when Marcus exited his truck. He chuckled. “Need a hand?”
Sarah’s first instinct was to refuse. She didn’t need Marcus’s help with anything. But then common sense took over and she tossed him the rope. It wasn’t his fault she was mad at the world and everything in it.
“Knock yourself out.”
“Well, I hope not, darlin’. It’ll take more than one feisty reindeer to sweep me off my feet.” He winked at her and her treacherous heart fluttered.
Marcus was six foot two and built like a brick wall, but it still took a great deal of tugging on his part to get the stubborn reindeer moving again. Sarah directed him to Crash’s stall and then put up Mag, giving the Percheron a good rubdown and a bucket of oats to help tide him over for the long journey ahead.
Marcus could probably use a good pick-me-up as well, maybe a stout cup of coffee for the road, but Sarah hesitated to invite him up to the house.
For one thing, Onyx and Jewel and her parents-in-law, Carl and Eliza, were inside the cabin. There would be the obligatory introductions and Marcus, ever the social butterfly, would no doubt get caught up in the moment after finding himself accosted by the friendly elderly couple, the enthusiastic three-year-old and the unquestionably adorable baby.
Another reason she had qualms about bringing Marcus around had to do with the state of her house. It was in dire need of repair, from the missing tiles on the roof to a kitchen cabinet half falling off the hinges. Then there was the starkness of the decor, or rather, a lack of any sort of decor whatsoever. She’d pawned nearly every piece of furniture and all of the artwork to pay the most pressing of recent bills. There was only a smattering of pieces left—such as a beat-up old olive-green armchair and a hideaway sofa that had seen better days.
It would be obvious to even the most dispassionate of observers that she was in dire straits, and of all the people on planet earth, Marcus was the last man she’d want to have discover her this way. Her cheeks heated. Oh, the humiliation of it all.
The whole reason she’d broken up with him on the day after their high school graduation was so that she could go out and make a success of herself. They were headed in different directions and she couldn’t be held back by a long-distance relationship. She needed to stay focused on her studies so she would never end up sending her kids to school wearing secondhand clothes as she’d had to do when she was a child. She was going to make something of herself.
Ha. What a joke that had turned out to be. She was dangling precariously by a thread right now, and it grew thinner all the time. But Marcus didn’t need to know that—any of it. A woman had her pride, after all.
Marcus stood near the stable door, his hat in his hand and his brow drawn in an unusually solemn expression as he stared out at the landscape. She was about ready to suggest they load up the Percherons so he could be on his way when he turned to her and threaded his fingers through his thick golden hair.
“The weather has taken a turn for the worse.” She knew he was trying his best to sound conversational, but she could hear the note of worry underlying his tone.
She stepped up beside him and peered out over the landscape, already knowing what she was going to see but still hoping beyond hope that he was overreacting.
He wasn’t. His truck was already covered with a half inch of heavy snow. She couldn’t even see the tracks the truck had made driving in. Perhaps worst of all, the wind was lashing the snow sideways, leaving zero visibility. She could barely make out the lights from the cabin, even though it was located only a few hundred yards from the stable.
“You’re right. This doesn’t look good,” she agreed tightly, her throat going dry.
Oh no.
Her
