Page 20 of Snowed in with the Rancher

She'd seemed perfect to him, he had to admit. But that was vacation life, not reality. Even if her parents' accident hadn't happened and they'd had more time together, he wasn't brimming with confidence that they could have made things work. That wasn't how romance tended to go for him.

“Still,” she added. “At least we have now. It's hard to believe it all worked out like this. It's almost enough to make me believe in fate. I mean, the odds of me ending up with a job here in the same town you've lived in your whole life, along with getting stuck a few miles from your house when you're with the local search and rescue…It's obvious fate had some other ideas for us.”

Tate swallowed, his throat feeling thick, his lungs constricted. Fate had also taken her from that ship—and from him—that morning. Fate had taken his mother when he still needed her, and had almost taken his father a few years back. Fate seemed to realize that he wasn't the right kind of guy to be a family man. Otherwise, the powers that be wouldn't keep taking away the few people he cared for most.

“I'm not sure I believe in fate,” he told her. “Granted, the odds were slim, but sometimes weird stuff just happens.”

Her brow furrowed again, and he decided the tactic he'd found that worked best with the girls might work with Olivia as well.

“Tell me more about the job and where you'll be living,” he said.

She shifted on the sofa, and he wasn't sure whether he'd actually distracted her or if she was just humoring him, but either way, she let him get away with the subject change.

“As I mentioned, I'll be the new executive director of Dreams for Disabilities. I spent the last few years working for its sister organization in Spokane. I've been working toward a promotion to director for the last two years, so when I saw this position open up, I thought it was time to test the waters. How about you? Tell me more about your work,” she prompted.

“Well, my dad had a heart attack a year after the cruise, so I took over the operation.”

Her face transformed into a look of concern. “Is he doing okay?”

He remembered the sight of his dad lying in the hospital bed, pale as a ghost, tubes and sensors attached to what seemed like every inch of his body. He nodded and tried to smile in reassurance. “He is. He has to take things a little slower and avoid stress, but he's doing really well, and my stepmother takes good care of him. I told them, by the way—about the girls.”

Her eyes widened. “How did they take it?”

“About like I'd expected. They're shocked and thrilled all at once. If you ever wished the girls had grandparents, your wishes have come true. If it weren't for the weather, I think my stepmother would already be pounding down the door with armloads of gifts to spoil the girls. As it is, they've agreed to give us a few days to adjust—and for the storm front to clear—before they start asking to visit.”

She laughed softly. “It's going to be a lot for the girls to take in, but they're so young, I really think it'll work out fine, and God knows they won't be averse to having new people to fuss over them.”

Olivia looked him in the eyes then, her voice soft but intense. “So what happens next? I mean, how are we going to handle all of this? There are so many things to consider. How we tell them, what kind of time you want to spend with them going forward—”

Before she could finish, which also meant before Tate could give in to a total panic attack, a little voice floated down from the top of the stairs.

“The snow stopped, Mommy! And there's someone coming to the house!”

TEN

The sound of an ATV's engine had interrupted the girls' nap. Tate stood and walked to the front door, Lobster close on his heels. He swung it open in time to see Vince and Marjory Andrews drive up on matching ATVs.

They came to a stop in front of the porch as Tate shut the door behind himself and Lobster ran to greet them.

“Hey, buddy!” Vince said as the dog wiggled all over to greet him. He scratched Lobster behind the ears before climbing off his ATV.

“I hope it's not something bad bringing you by,” Tate said, walking down the porch steps. He was friendly with the rescue team chief and his wife, but not really “swing by in the middle of a storm system just to say hi” friendly. “Do we have another rescue?”

Marjory grabbed Tate's shoulders and gave him a kiss on one cheek. Her grandmotherly air made him feel like he ought to brush his hair and say “yes, ma'am” a lot.

The Andrews were retired from the local school district. He'd taught shop, and she'd been the high school secretary. Tate couldn't actually remember a time when he hadn't known them. But it wasn't until he'd joined the search and rescue team in his twenties that he'd gotten to know them as an adult. They were good people and had honed the team into one of the best volunteer rescue groups this side of the Rockies.

“How you doin'?” Vince asked as he came over and shook Tate's hand.

“Good. Everyone here's just fine.” Whyhadthey come?

Vince's voice lowered as he leaned in toward Tate. “She's concerned about your houseguests. Was worried they might not feel comfortable staying with a strange man, and all.”

Tate's brow furrowed. “Is that why you came all the way out here? You could have called and asked to talk to Olivia.”

Vince grinned. “Naw. We have a deer caught in a snow slide over near the lodge. I was hoping you could come with me to yank her out.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tate said. “Olivia and the girls will be fine here for a bit.”

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