Lucie’s Billionaire Cowboy Grace: Seven Billionaire Cowboy Brothers at Christmas Wilmont Lodge, #1

By Brenda Clemmons

Only God and an early Christmas miracle will be able to save them when disaster suddenly rages.

Jason Harkrider has a lot on his plate managing Wilmont Lodge and Ranch with his six brothers, and being a billionaire only makes it a little bit easier. As much work as it is, though, Jason loves the Christmas season at the Lodge the best, and there are many memories that the Harkrider brothers have that honor their mother's memory.

 

The Christmas play is one of their favorites. But this year, the Christmas play brings more than happy memories. It also brings them Lucie Elders, who earns the female lead role both in the play and in Jason's heart.

 

But Jason is afraid that he won't be able to divide his time between the all-consuming ranch work and Lucie. As the young couple struggles to overcome small hurdles, a far larger problem creeps up on them, suddenly threatening their lives.

 

Read all the books in Seven Billionaire Cowboy Brothers at Christmas Wilmont Lodge Romance series by bestselling authors Brenda Clemmons and Katie Wyatt! 
Book 1Lucie's Billionaire Cowboy Grace
Book 2 Mackenzie's Billionaire Cowboys Rebirth
Book 3 Willow's Billionaire Cowboys Hope
Book 4 Brie's Billionaire Cowboys Salvation
Book 5 Jenna's Billionaire Cowboys Triumph
Book 6 Ella's Billionaires Cowboys Rescue
Book 7 Cayla's Billionaires Cowboys Encore

Brenda Clemmons's Clean and Wholesome novelette Contemporary Western Romance series is enjoyable for all ages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Royce Cardiff Publishing House
• Release date: Dec 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201221690

Book preview

Prologue

Five Years Earlier

---

Christmas was Elena Harkrider’s favorite time of year. She had lived in Englewood, Wyoming, her entire life, and the small town’s Christmas traditions were intertwined with her own. Christmas always started just after Halloween, with the whole town getting the decorations up and preparing for the Wilmont Lodge Christmas play. Every year she attended the town Christmas tree lighting and every holiday party, and she served all season long at the homeless shelter on Lima Street. Her husband and her seven sons always joined in, of course. They stayed very busy running Wilmont Lodge, her passion project, and the ranch that the Lodge sat on. But they always had time to help their mother make Christmas cookies and go caroling.

Elena left Englewood’s bakery that day, several bags of fresh bread and rolls and cinnamon buns hanging from her arm. As she walked out into the crisp winter air, she breathed it into her lungs, detecting the scents of pine and cinnamon apples that never went away during December. She waved to a few friends across the road, heading into the grocer’s and stopped for a moment to listen to the carolers standing in the town square with their white muffs on their hands and red coats wrapped around themselves.

She sang along with the words as she stood there, recognizing little Emma Harris, Lisa’s daughter, and Trent Quentin, Opal’s son. Elena never forgot a face. It wasn’t too hard in a town of only thirty thousand people to remember everyone anyway. Especially since she was the owner of the Wilmont Lodge, and people were always coming by to take part in the classes they put on year-round or to get away for a couples’ night while grandparents watched the kids.

Elena! A hand touched her shoulder.

She turned around and smiled warmly at Angela, one of the ladies she was serving with on the hospitality committee at church. Hello, Angela. Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas, Angela said, squeezing Elena’s arm. I’m hurrying off to cook dinner at home, but when I saw you, I just had to stop and tell you that your idea for the Christmas Eve party went over so well with the vendor I met with yesterday. He absolutely loved the idea of stringing snowflakes together into a star, and it’s going to be the centerpiece of the whole party’s décor.

Oh, that’s wonderful, Elena said, truly pleased. But we all came up with that, Angela. Remember? I just suggested the similarity in shape between snowflakes and stars. It was your idea to do a stringed centerpiece in the first place.

You’re always so humble, Angela said, pressing Elena’s arm again. Of course we all work together. Just like we’re supposed to! Anyway, I’ll tell everyone about it at the next meeting, but I just wanted to give you the good news.

Wonderful, Elena said, waving as Angela hurried away. God bless!

You too! Angela called back. Merry Christmas!

Elena watched the carolers sing for another moment, but then she remembered that she had eight hungry men to feed at home. She tossed a few bills into the collection that sat out in front of the carolers, smiling as she read the sign that any donations would be included in a fund to buy presents for the children being treated in the hospital in the next town.

It was about a mile-and-a-half walk back to her house, but Elena had good walking shoes on, and the bread was light. It was a good way to get her exercise, walking back and forth to town.

As she walked, she saw a man with a threadbare coat huddled against the post office building, trying to stay warm.

Elena walked over to him without hesitation. Hello, she said, getting the man’s attention. Are you all right, sir?

The man looked up at her, his face worn from sun and cold weather. He didn’t look like he was that old, but it was clear that even if he’d only been around for thirty years, he had seen and endured more than his fair share. His thin clothes hung on his frame, and his hair was greasy and unkempt around his face. Could you spare any change?

Elena shifted the bags in her arms and reached for her purse. She always carried cash with her, but she had just used much of it to pay for the bread. Now she regretted that, but she fished out a twenty-dollar bill that she had left. Here, she said, handing it to the man. I’m sorry that’s all I have on me at the moment. There’s a place just around the corner that has winterwear. I can walk with you there, and we can pick out what you need.

The man took the money hesitantly, looking at her as though he was wary. What?

Save that money, she told him. Use it for whatever you need it for. But I can get you some warmer clothing. And I run a Lodge. The Wilmont Lodge. We can pick you up some warmer clothes, and then I would love to give you a meal and a room for the night. I have a husband and seven sons at home. They run a ranch, and I’m sure they have plenty of work that you could do if you’re looking.

You gave me cash, and now you want to buy me clothes and give me food and shelter?

Yes, Elena said, trying to walk that fine line between helping as much as she could and not disrespecting or embarrassing a person in need. My family has more than enough, and we can help you get back on your feet.

Do you know who I am?

Elena faltered for a moment, wondering if she had made a mistake. Years of working with homeless people made her confident that she could recognize someone who needed help, but it was easy to get it wrong, and she wasn’t sure if this was one of those situations. I’m afraid I don’t. Perhaps we should introduce ourselves. I’m Elena Harkrider, she said.

I’m Peter Graham.

Elena stifled the gasp that wanted to escape her. Peter Graham. She had known him when he was a young teenager. He was just a little bit older than Jason, her oldest son. Peter had gone to school with her boys, and he had been expelled after he had been found selling drugs and alcohol to the other students. After he had been expelled, he had run away from home, destroying his poor mother’s heart. Every once in a while, they heard about Peter. It was never good news. He had been arrested again. He was back in prison for theft or for drugs, never able to get his life turned around.

Peter, Elena said, stooping down beside him. Oh my. I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you.

And now that you do?

Elena gave him a small smile. Nothing about my offer changes. Anyone who needs another chance is always welcome at Wilmont Lodge. We can’t have any substances on the premises, but if you’ll agree to that, then you’re welcome to stay, and we’ll help you as much as we can.

Peter gave a dry laugh that turned into a cough. You trust my word?

Until you give me a reason not to, Elena said. What about your mother?

We don’t talk.

Oh, Elena said sadly, unable to imagine what she would feel like if she didn’t talk to one of her sons.

Elena.

There was something different in his tone now, and Elena looked back at Peter, searching his weathered features. Yes?

I remember that you’ve always been kind, Peter said. I came back to Englewood because I’m dying. I may not live through the night. I won’t be here for Christmas.

Elena paled, her hand reaching for his and pressing. Peter, no. What is it? What’s wrong?

Liver, he said. I did it to myself. I’ve done all of this to myself. I just wanted to come back to the town I was born in for my last days.

Sorrow gripped Elena, and she bowed her head over their hands, praying for strength for the right words to say to this sad, angry, sick young man. Oh, Peter. I’m so sorry.

I want to go to my mother’s house, but I’ve been too proud. If you really want to help me, you’ll go there with me and see if she’ll see me.

Elena put down her bags and stood up, reaching down for Peter’s hand. Come on, she said, helping him to his feet and steadying him. I’ll call us a cab. Here. She reached into the bag with the warm buns and handed him one. Eat something while we wait.

She called her husband to let him know she would be late, and then Elena called a cab. She gave them Mary Graham’s address and rode there with a silent, pensive Peter. When they arrived, Elena looked over at Peter, and he looked back at her, his eyes dull.

She’s not going to want to see me, he said, as though preparing himself for disappointment.

A mother always loves her son, Elena said, confident that she was right. Wait here.

Elena used the credit card machine in the cab to pay the driver to wait, and then she went up and knocked on Mary Graham’s door. And Mary’s reaction to Elena’s news proved to Elena what she already knew. There was nothing that would make a mother stop loving her son. Elena was only sorry that the two would have such a short time together after so many years apart.

She went back to Peter, and with eyes shining with tears, she told him that his mother wanted him to come home. He already knew, though. He could see his mother standing in the doorway, hands clasped beneath her chin, waiting for him.

Peter climbed out of the car, gripping Elena’s arm with his hand. But he stopped her before she began to walk them toward the door. Take this, Peter said, pulling an envelope of papers from his thin jacket and pushing them into her purse. Please.

What is this? Elena asked, peering at the tattered envelope. You don’t need to give me anything, Peter.

That’s my journal, he said. And some letters I’ve written over the years and never sent. And there’s something else in there. Something that will change your life.

You should give those to your mother, Elena insisted, reaching for the papers.

No, Peter said sharply, stopping her. I love my mother, but I get my worst tendencies from her. She can’t handle what I’ve given you. But you’ll take care of her. Right?

Elena had no idea what he was talking about, but he was clearly agitated, and Mary was waiting for her son. Of course, she said. Yes, of course I’ll take care of her.

Thank you, Peter said.

He let her lead him up to the house, and Elena passed Peter off to his mother, getting teary again as she witnessed their reunion.

Thank you, Mary Graham said, clasping Elena’s hand. Thank you.

Of course, Elena said, hugging the woman and then taking her leave to give them some privacy.

It was late when she got home, and her sons had already made dinner and cleaned up the dishes.

Elena, feeling emotionally drained, hugged them but then excused herself to her office for a few moments of reflection. She prayed for Peter as she sat there, staring out her window into the dark, cold night. Elena had been spared so much pain in her life. She had a wonderful husband and seven amazing young sons who worked hard and had good hearts. She was blessed beyond anything she could have ever imagined, and then people like Peter and Mary…they had to go through so much.

Darren knocked at her office door and came in, smiling at his wife. He leaned down to kiss her. Long day, sweetheart?

She told him the story in full, and he nodded sadly, holding her hand. You did what you could, he said, bringing her fingers to his lips. Who knows if Peter would have been brave enough to go ask his mother for help if you hadn’t gone with him.

Elena looked at her husband’s handsome face. There were age lines and lines from hard work over the years on the ranch. His dark hair now had gray at the temples, but she thought it only made him look that much more distinguished. Three of their sons had inherited their father’s dark looks, and three had her fairer complexion. Only one of their sons had inherited the red hair that ran in her family from Elena’s mother to Elena’s brother and then to Isaac, Elena’s third son.

I love you, Elena told her husband. Very much. Thank you for helping me make this wonderful life.

Darren chuckled and shook his head. You are what makes that life wonderful, my dear.

Elena smiled, but then she remembered the papers that Peter had given her. She pulled them out of her purse and opened the envelope, pulling out the papers one by one. Letters. Pages of handwritten journaling. And then something small. It dropped from the other papers to the floor, and Elena bent to pick it up.

You bought a lottery ticket? Darren asked in surprise.

No, Elena said, turning the ticket over and reading the numbers on the back. No, I didn’t. Peter gave it to me.

Chapter One

Jason

It’s good to be home, Jason said, standing outside Wilmont Stables and stretching his back. He lifted his arms over his head and twisted slowly from side to side before sighing and releasing his breath. Four days on the back of a horse is the best and worst thing that can happen to a man.

It’s only the worst thing that can happen if that man is on the wrong side of thirty, Lance joked, coming out of the stables and hugging his older brother. Welcome back. How was it?

Incredible, Jason said, slapping Lance on the back and then distancing himself. But that smell is me. I wouldn’t get too close.

I immediately regretted it, Lance told him. I’ll take Wilbur inside and get him rubbed down. You relax.

Gratefully, Jason turned away from the stables, rolling his neck and rubbing the back of it. He and two of his ranch hands had been out riding for four days, driving cattle they had purchased across state lines from Montana to Wyoming. It was the first week of November, and the weather had cooled. The nights had been spent huddled in thermal sleeping bags by a fire, and the days had been spent in the saddle, the cool air and the vestiges of the fall leaves making the ride across the open territory peaceful and pleasant. The coyotes they had run into and a surprise rainstorm had both temporarily marred the experience, but for his first multistate cattle drive, it had gone better than he could have imagined.

Now the cattle were safely on Wilmont Lodge territory, and the next few days would be about slowly integrating the new herd with the original herd. But that was tomorrow’s job.

Jason headed back toward the Lodge, where he lived with his father and four of his brothers. Wilmont Lodge had been their mother’s passion project, named for Elena Harkrider’s mother. Wilmont had been their grandmother’s maiden name, and Elena had made that name their family’s future. Elena had been gone for three years now, and her husband and her sons felt her loss every day. But by keeping Wilmont Lodge flourishing, they kept her memory alive and her presence with them.

That was why Jason was about to run in and meet with Alisha, one of their activities coordinators, about the auditions that were going to start today. Every year the Wilmont Lodge put on a Christmas play, and today began the audition process. It was one of his mother’s favorite traditions, and Jason wanted to make sure it was amazing every year.

He checked his watch as he headed inside, noting that he had about ten minutes before Alisha arrived at two. Letting himself in the back door of the Lodge, he responded to each greeting from the various staff members walking around the place with a smile and a quick check-in. That only left him two minutes to shower when he finally got up to his room, and he had to shake his dark hair dry while he pulled on a black sweater and jeans.

Jason padded back down the stairs in bare feet, with still-wet hair flopping over his forehead and four days of dark beard scruff framing his jaw. But it was the best he had smelled in a long time, and he was happy enough with that.

Alisha, Jason said, opening the front door just as the woman was walking up the steps. Hi—oh! You’re not Alisha.

A woman looked up at him in surprise, and Jason wondered if it was his sleep deprivation or if she was actually the prettiest woman he had ever seen. She had honey-blonde hair hanging down around her shoulders under a sky-blue beanie with a soft white puff on top of it. Her eyes matched the color of the beanie, and she had full pink lips and a nose that turned up at the tip. She was dressed in a white leather jacket over a pale blue blouse and dark skinny jeans. Her taupe boot was poised on the top porch step as she stopped, surprised to have the door swing open to reveal a man calling her by another woman’s name.

No, I’m Lucie, she said, looking around. Sorry—obviously you were expecting someone.

Jason could see Alisha’s car pulling into the drive and realized that he had just preempted her when he’d caught a glimpse of someone through the front room window. As often as people came and went at Wilmont Lodge, he wasn’t surprised