The Rancher's Christmas Present

December 2026

The gift money can’t buy…

His dad’s stunning death-bed confession sends cattle rancher Zane McLaughlin on a mission to Medicine Creek, Wyoming. While he struggles with how to confront Nate Bravo, his unwitting biological father, Zane pours his heart out to bartender Roxie O’Shea. By the end of her shift, it’s clear there’s something between them.

But years ago, Zane’s ex-wife made it plain he’s not made for love and marriage. And when Roxie was widowed, she closed her heart forever. So why does it feel like riding in a one-horse open sleigh whenever they’re together? As Roxie helps Zane find answers with the father he never knew, things feel too right to be casual. Will they open their hearts to the gift of true love this Christmas?

Bravo Family Ties:
The Next Generation

Chapter One

Zane McLaughlin took a seat at the long mahogany bar.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

Zane liked her immediately. Not only was she easy on the eyes, but she also had a great smile, like she knew a secret, one she just might be willing to share if a guy played his cards right.

And it only got better from there. He liked the way her big, dark brown eyes tipped up at the corners, kind of pixie-like. She had short, thick, coffee-colored hair, the kind of hair that made a man want to tangle his fingers in it. As for the tattoo of musical notes trailing down her shapely left arm, he liked that a lot, too. Her name tag said, Roxie.

Tipping her head to the side, Roxie arched one dark eyebrow and asked, “Need a minute?”

“Nah. I’m ready. Wild Turkey 101 on the rocks.”

She chuckled then, a low, husky sound. “He speaks.”

“Sorry, Roxie.” Zane remembered his manners and took off his hat, setting it crown down beside him on the bar. “Been on the road for sixteen hours. All that driving must’ve numbed my brain.”

“I understand. Wild Turkey 101, it is.” She grabbed a short glass, added ice and poured the whiskey over it. “Here you go.” She set the drink in front of him with her left hand…and he found himself thinking, No ring on Roxie’s finger.

Clearly, he’d been on the road too long. Roxie the bartender seemed like a nice woman. The last thing she needed was a customer staring too long, checking for a wedding ring, making up fantasies in which she played a leading role.

“Appreciate it,” he said mildly, and sipped. It went down smooth and easy. “Perfect.”

“Hungry?” She offered a menu.

“Thanks, but I grabbed a burger a couple of hours ago.”

With a nod, she slipped the menu back in its holder and moved on down the bar. He hated to see her go. On the other hand, she sure did look good walking away.

He was enjoying another slow sip of whiskey when his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was his brother.

Zane took the call. “Hey, Dallas. Kids in bed?” Back home in Washington state, it would be a little after eight now.

“We’re getting there,” his brother said. “Safe trip?”

“All good,” Zane replied, his eyes straying to the bartender again. She was shaking a cocktail—a cosmopolitan, judging by the pink color[CR1.1] as she strained it into a martini glass.

Dallas said, “Violet wants to talk to you.”

“Put her on.”

A moment later, his niece demanded, “Uncle Zane, are you all the way in Wyoming yet?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Are you lonely without us?” Vi was all seriousness. Only seven, she already took it upon herself to play mother hen to Zane, her dad and her younger brother.

“So lonely,” he replied.

“You better come home then.”

“I will, Vi. Soon.”

Violet chattered away as Zane sipped his drink and tried not to stare at Roxie, an effort at which he failed utterly. The back bar was not only lined with liquor bottles but also draped in garland and shiny Christmas ornaments. It was mirrored, too. He could see her reflected there.

She caught him watching her and he quickly glanced away. When he dared to look again, she was staring right at him. They shared a smile and she gave him a questioning look. He nodded that yes, another whiskey would be great.

That brought her back to his end of the bar. She set the fresh drink in front of him. He mouthed a thank-you to her as Vi bragged in his ear about riding her horse, Mr. Lucky.

“Daddy says I’m a natural.” Zane could tell from her tone that she was smiling with pride.

“And your daddy is right.”

“We’re decorating the Christmas tree on Saturday. Will you be home by then?”

“Can’t say for sure, sweetheart. That’s only five days from now and I don’t know how long this, er, visit is going to take.”

“Five days is pretty long, and Uncle Zane, who are you visiting, anyway?”

He stifled a chuckle. Violet often asked the questions that the grown-ups weren’t ready to answer. “Well, I’ve got a few things to look into…”

“What things?” his niece demanded.

And then, faintly, Zane heard his brother as he said, “Violet.”

Violet made a small, annoyed sound. “Hold on, Uncle Zane.”

“Sure.”

Dallas said something else and then Violet got back on the phone again. “Daddy says I ask too many questions and that now I have to go, so you will get a chance to talk to Jeremy, too.”

“’Night, Vi. Miss you.”

“Miss you, Uncle Zane. G’night.”

“Uncle Zane, hi!” Five-year-old Jeremy was like a happy puppy, brimming with enthusiasm and affection. He reported that he’d drawn Zane a picture of a snowman. “You can have it when you get back home to put on the ’frigerator at your house!”

Zane thanked the little guy and said good-night. Then he waited as his brother informed the kids that he would tuck them into bed as soon as he’d finished talking to Uncle Zane.

Zane watched Roxie whip up an old-fashioned, every movement smooth and confident, poetry in motion. She delivered it with a smile to a fiftyish guy in a rumpled suit who was sitting down at the other end of the bar.

“Any news?” Dallas asked.

“Well, now, let’s see. I drove straight through, stopping only for gas and a burger. I’ve got a room at the Statesman Hotel, which has a great little bar in the basement. That’s where I am now, the bar. Very soon, I’m heading upstairs to bed.”

A silence from Dallas’s end of the call. And then, in a weary tone, he said, “Sorry—for pushing, I mean. The whole thing just gets to me.”

“I know. And I will start looking for answers to all your questions…tomorrow.”

“Good,” Dallas replied. “Because I still can’t believe this. Sometimes I wonder if I even want to know.”

Zane didn’t buy that for a second. “You know you want to know.”

His brother was silent. But then Dallas admitted, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do. Get started early tomorrow. I think you should just head for the Double-K Ranch and demand to talk to him. Surprise the man, shock the truth right out of him.”

Zane sipped his whiskey and set down the glass slowly.

“Zane?” Dallas grumbled in his ear. “You still there?”

“Right here. Think about it, Dallas. Why would I want to come on strong?”

“What? You’re going to go easy?”

“I am. As far as we know, the man did nothing wrong.”

“That’s just it. Mom knew nothing about him, not really, not from what Dad said. He could be a dangerous character. You need to be careful.”

“I don’t want to argue about this, Dallas. I’m the one handling the situation and I’ll be doing it my way. I’ll check in with you tomorrow, let you know everything I’ve found out.”

“Keep your guard up.”

“About what? Dallas, I’m here to get answers. What have I got to hide?”

His brother grunted. “Hell. Nothing. Just take care of yourself.”

“I will. Kiss the kids for me?”

Dallas was quiet. Zane braced himself for more instructions. But then his brother sighed. “Of course.”

They said their good-nights and Zane disconnected the call. He set down his phone and glanced toward the bartender as she wiped the counter a few feet away. She caught him looking and stared right back, her dark eyes serious now.

He felt the urge to explain himself. “That was my brother,” he said wearily. “With advice I don’t need.”

Roxie was nodding. “Sounds like my sister. She’s ten years older, married with kids. I love her a lot. But I make my own decisions.” She tipped her head to the side and asked, “Your brother older than you?”

“Nope. I’m the oldest.” He gave her a grin. “By twenty-five minutes.”

“Wow. You’re a twin, then?”

“That’s right.”

“Identical?”

“Yep.”

“What’s it like, having a twin?”

“Good.”

She laughed, a gorgeous laugh, sexy and low. “Oh, come on now. I’m going to need more information than that…” She frowned. “I just realized I don’t know your name.”

“Zane. Zane McLaughlin. And as for being a twin, well, I can tell Dallas anything. I know him, really know him. And he knows me. Sometimes we fight, but we always make up and work it out in the end. As kids, we could practically read each other’s minds. It was like we were the same person, you know?”

She nodded again. “They say stuff like that about twins.”

“It’s true, at least for Dallas and me. We run the family ranch together and we rarely butt heads. Matter of fact, we haven’t come to blows over an issue since back in high school. We were both kinda hotheaded then.” He sipped his drink. “Okay, let me guess. That was more than you ever wanted to know about me and my twin.”

“Not true.” She gave him a naughty little grin. “I asked, remember? And where is this ranch you and your brother own?”

“In Washington state, near a little town called Alder Ridge—and Roxie, it’s your turn. Tell me something about you and your sister.”

“She’s happily married. Two boys, twelve and thirteen.”

“And you?”

Roxie glanced away, then drew a slow breath and met his eyes again. “I was married, too.”

“Happily?”

“Very.” Her eyes were dark as midnight now. He wondered if maybe her marriage hadn’t been quite as happy as she claimed. “His name was Trey. He, uh… Well, he died.”

Zane almost reached across the bar to touch her, reassure her. He wanted to brush her arm, maybe give her shoulder a pat. He stopped himself before he did it, though. She didn’t need her customers getting handsy with her. “That’s rough. I’m so sorry,” he said.

Roxie nodded. “It was…a tractor rollover a few years back.” And then she straightened her shoulders and moved down the bar as the guy in the tired suit got up to go. After cashing him out, she cleared off his empty glass and wiped the counter.

A couple at a deuce in the corner got up, too. “’Night!” Roxie called as they left through the interior door on their way to the stairs that led up to the lobby.

Now, it was just the two of them, Zane and Roxie, alone in the Basement Bar on the Monday night after Thanksgiving. He watched her work, washing glasses, checking inventory, cleaning muddlers and shakers. She didn’t seem to mind that he was watching. Once or twice, she even gave him that glowing smile of hers.

It occurred to him that maybe Roxie knew the man he’d come all the way to Wyoming to meet. He waited until she was standing a few feet down the counter from him, wiping a stack of menus with a bar towel, then asked, “Ever heard of a man named Nate Bravo?”

She flashed him a quick glance. “Everybody here in Medicine Creek knows Nate Bravo.”

“The Nate Bravo I’m hoping to meet was once a private investigator working out of Los Angeles. But that was more than thirty years ago.”

Roxie sent him another look—this one more guarded. “I can tell you this. Nate Bravo’s a good man. You want more information than that out of me, you’re going to have to explain why you want it.”

So then, he thought, Roxie stuck up for people she respected. Good for her. And that she felt protective of Nate Bravo seemed like a good sign, too. Dallas might automatically assume that Nate Bravo wouldn’t turn out to be anyone worth knowing. But Roxie actually knew him. And clearly, she held him in high regard.

“What?” Roxie looked at him sideways. “Got nothing more to say?”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty. I was just trying to decide where to start.”

“Long story, huh?”

“As a matter of fact, it is.”

She laughed then, a knowing sound. “Well, Zane McLaughlin, it’s deader than a hammer in here. There’s just you and me. And given that it’s the Monday night after a holiday weekend, I feel safe in predicting that it’s not going to get any livelier. I have plenty of side work. I can listen while I get it done.”

Why not? he thought. Worst-case scenario, she would run straight to Nate Bravo with a warning that some guy from out of town was looking for him. If so, no problem. Zane was looking for him.

“It’s like this,” Zane said. “Me and my brother had a happy childhood with good parents who are both gone now. Our mom died several months ago. Our dad passed in early October. The day he died, he told us a secret that he and our mom had kept to themselves since before my brother and I were born.”

Roxie tossed her bar towel across her shoulder and straightened those sexy black suspenders she wore over her crisp white shirt. “A secret that somehow has to do with Nate Bravo?”

“That’s right. And the truth is, both my brother and I feel more than a little bit guilty about digging around in the past. Our parents were good people. They gave us everything that matters—love, support, all that a kid needs to get a good start in life. And that’s why we can’t help thinking that what happened more than thirty years ago doesn’t matter in the least. Dallas and I, we are who we are. Knowing the truth will never change that.”

“What truth?” She had her arms folded now. Those tip-tilted dark eyes regarded him steadily.

He gave a one-shouldered shrug rather than answer her question—yeah, he was stalling and most likely for no reason. She seemed pretty damn sharp. He would lay odds that she’d already guessed what his big secret was.

Still, he felt reluctant to put the whole story out there for a woman he’d only met an hour before.

Instead, he offered, “For the last couple of months, we’ve been going back and forth, me and Dallas—to leave the past alone or go digging around looking for answers that won’t really change anything.”

“But now, here you are in Medicine Creek, where Nate Bravo lives. So I’m assuming you and your brother finally decided it was time to start digging.”

He shrugged. “That’s right. The past few weeks, Dallas has become downright obsessed. He did some online research and found out that Nate Bravo lives here in Wyoming now. The next step is to get in contact with the man. We considered writing a letter, but then we’d just be sitting at home waiting, hoping for answers.”

“And you don’t want to wait?”

“No. We’re more action-oriented, I guess you might say. We agreed that one of us should come to Wyoming, talk to the man, face-to-face. My brother’s a widower with two little kids. I’m single, no children. It’s just easier for me to make the trip.”

“Why now, though?”

“Why not? On a cattle ranch, there’s always a lot that needs doing. Now is as good a time as any.” He expected her to demand that he quit stalling and tell her why, exactly, he’d come looking for Nate Bravo.

But she did no such thing. “I told you I’m a widow. What about you, Zane? Ever been married?”

Well, all right then. Her questions had him wondering if maybe she was more interested in him personally than in why he was so curious about Nate Bravo. Did she feel that spark between them, same as he did? Or was she just stalling, trying to decide how much to tell him about the man he’d come looking for?

He gave it to her straight. “Yes, I’ve been married—to my high-school sweetheart. Her name is Celeste. We were both twenty-three when we tied the knot. Four years later, she divorced me.”

“Why?”

He eyed her sideways. “You really want to hear this?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

What was it about being alone with a beautiful woman in a quiet bar on a dead night? The situation tempted a man to share personal information he should probably have sense enough to keep to himself.

He laid it right out there for her. “Celeste said she was divorcing me because she wanted a lot more from love than I was ever going to give her. She said I was all guy and impossible to talk to.”

Roxie scoffed. “Please. Impossible to talk to? You’ve hardly shut up since you walked in here.”

That made him laugh. “Well, now, Roxie, I guess I’ve grown and changed since then. Who the hell knows? I’m just repeating what Celeste said. She said that she’d hoped for years that we would grow ‘truly intimate’—her words—but she’d finally come to accept that I was one of those men a woman will never really get close to. She said that at last she understood her own heart and she needed a man who could know her to her soul.”

“And that man wasn’t you?”

“Celeste didn’t think so.”

“So she went and broke your poor heart?” Scowling, Roxie had started wiping off the salt and pepper shakers, her movements sharp and swift.

Zane admitted, “It’s true. She did break my heart. I doubt that she realized it, though. Probably because, according to Celeste, I’m also one of those men who never shows his true feelings—if I even have any feelings. Celeste wondered sometimes if that was the problem.”

“That you don’t have feelings in the first place?”

“You got it.”

Roxie wiped another saltshaker. “I’m trying not to be too hard on your ex, but she sounds kind of judgy.”

Zane shrugged. “Looking back, I have to say that Celeste made the right choice to divorce me. The two of us were not meant to be.”

“Well. At least you’re not pining away for her.”

“Nope. Not pining. Not for a long time now.”

She tipped her head to the side and looked at him, narrow-eyed, as she studied his face. “But you did pine for a while, didn’t you?”

“I did,” he replied. And then he added, half-teasing, “In my own manly, silent, stoic way.”

She chuckled then. “I would expect nothing less.”

“Truth is, Roxie, I’m doing just fine now.”

“Good. I hate to see a good man suffer.” Those dark eyes twinkled now. And her grin created matching dimples, one on either side of her plump mouth. He wondered what it would be like to kiss that mouth and couldn’t help hoping he might get a chance to find out. “You still haven’t told me why you’re looking for Nate Bravo,” she said.

He decided to tell her everything—but then before he got a word out, red lights started flashing overhead and an earsplitting, high-pitched beeping sound filled the room.