Between Christmas and Romance Page 10

  “Santa wants a photo of this naughty girl to go in the naughty and nice book.” Tim handed Karen the phone he’d somehow dug out of his pocket.

  She laughed and snapped a few images then returned the phone to him.

  “Santa said she’s naughty, Mom. Will he put coal in her stocking?” Dusty asked as Cassandra led him out of the store with a quick wave in my direction and a motion with her hand that she wanted me to call her later. No doubt, she’d want to hear all about where I found Santa and why I was trapped on his lap.

  “You owe me big time,” Tim whispered under his breath as he released me and I hopped off his lap with as much dignity as I could muster. He stood, gave a grand wave to those who were still in the store, and disappeared down the hallway to the storage room. I waited five minutes, then made my way back there. He was just tugging on his boots when I stuck my head around the door. I felt a twinge of disappointment I’d missed seeing him with just the thin undershirt hiding all that muscle.

  “Tim, listen, I’m sorry. I should have...” Fingers pressed to my lips silenced me again. The feel of them there was thoroughly unnerving, but I sure wasn’t going to push them away.

  “Tomorrow afternoon you’ll come out to the ranch and you can grovel then. Fair enough?”

  I nodded. “What time should I be there?”

  “Do you want to come for lunch?” he asked as he pulled on his coat and settled his hat on his head.

  I did, but I didn’t feel I deserved one of Charli’s excellent meals. “No, but I could be there about one, if that works for you.”

  “I’ll see you then. Wear clothes you aren’t afraid to get dirty and I mean really, really dirty. Dress warm and wear boots.” He gave Hemi one last scratch behind his ears, tipped his hat to me, and left via the back door without another word.

  I locked the door and picked up the cat. “I think I really stepped in it this time, kitty.”

  Hemi’s purrs sounded more like “I told you so,” as I set him on his bed and went back to work.

  Chapter Nine

  Once, when I was about seven, I ransacked my mom’s wallet, took all the cash, and went on a spending spree in Christmas Mountain while she was locked in her home office, trying to meet a deadline. I bought a new outfit, a bag full of toys, and stuffed myself so full of ice cream, cookies, and soda, it made me sick. To this day, I can’t stand the taste of Mountain Dew.

  Anyway, when I got home, Mom was ready to hang me from the rafters by my toenails. Only she didn’t have time. Instead, she made me sit in a room that was only used when she declared I needed a time-out session and told me she’d deal with me when she finished her work. Honestly, I think it was supposed to be a storage closet. No windows, no throw rugs, no pictures on the wall. Nada. Nothing. Just beige walls, a straight back chair, and a bare light bulb.

  So I sat in that room, tummy gurgling from an overload of sweets and dread of what punishment she’d mete out later. I came up with a hundred different ways my mother could pour more wretchedness into my life as I waited and waited and waited. At the time, I was sure I spent weeks in there, but it was probably closer to a few hours. When Dad came home, he found me sitting on that chair, tears running down my cheeks. He gave me a hug and sent me to my room then went to talk to Mom.

  I never did receive additional punishment for my transgressions. I finally figured out the misery of waiting was the punishment.

  And darn if that Tim Burke hadn’t done the same thing to me.

  I’d been tied in knots since he left the store yesterday. It wasn’t that I minded doing whatever chores he thought would atone for my actions. But the uncertainty was about to kill me.

  After I got home from church and ate a quick lunch of a toasted cheese sandwich, I dug through my clothes until I extracted my oldest, most worn pair of jeans. I figured they had enough life in them for one or two more washings, but that was about it. The seams inside were frayed and a spot just below the rear left pocket would be threadbare soon.

  I dressed in a set of thermal underwear before I slid into the jeans. I added a turtleneck that had seen better days, then topped it with a sweatshirt that proclaimed I was a Montana State University fan when I’d always preferred the University of Montana (not that I actually went to any college). After pulling on a pair of thick wool socks, I got down on my hands and knees to dig into the very back of the closet to unearth a pair of cowboy boots I used to wear when I’d go with Dad to visit a friend who’d let us ride horses on his place.

  A coat with a huge coffee stain on the front (not mine, but a result of someone walking and texting then blindly running into me) would keep me warm and I wouldn’t have to be concerned about it getting dirty.

  A thick scarf, a pair of fleece lined gloves, and a stocking cap completed my outerwear selections. Quickly braiding my long hair, I fastened the end with a rubber band, snagged my purse, and headed off to face my punishment.

  The drive from town to Aspen Grove Ranch was lovely. Sun glistened on the snow and sparkled like diamonds in the afternoon light. Yet, the anxiety of facing Tim and whatever chores he had planned for me sent my anxiety into orbit. The cheese sandwich rested in my stomach like a rock and I wished I’d skipped eating anything. I should have had a cup of soothing mint tea, or maybe some chamomile.

  I tried to think of anything except whatever awaited me at the ranch. Even singing my favorite holiday tunes couldn’t draw my thoughts from what awaited me at Aspen Grove.

  When I parked in front of the house, Brutus ran out to greet me. I expected him to be standoffish, or at least growl, but he must have remembered me from Thanksgiving. The friendly canine licked my hand and practically beat a hole in my front fender wagging his tail against it.

  Tim stepped out onto the front porch and waved so I headed his way.

  “You’re right on time,” he said, not smiling, not kissing my cheek or touching my hand. He stepped back so I could enter the house. “Nana and Aunt Charli are in by the fire. I thought you might want to pop in and say hello then we’ll head out. While you do that, I’ll get my coat.”

  I nodded and set my purse on a bench by the door then walked into the great room. Nancy sat in what had to be her favorite chair while Charli lounged on the couch with a magazine open on her lap.

  “Hello, Carol! How are you?” Nancy offered me a welcoming smile and motioned me to come closer.

  “I’m well. How are you both doing?”

  Charli grinned. “I’m fantastic and Nancy is getting better every day, even if she gripes too much.”

  Nancy stuck out her tongue at her sister, then grabbed my hand. “I don’t know how you talked Tim into playing Santa but that was the best thing I’ve seen in ages, maybe ever.”

  Charli nodded. “I couldn’t believe you got him in a Santa suit, especially with all those kids. How did you do it?”

  “I asked him if he had time to help me with a special project. He said he did. Then I asked if he wanted any specifics and he said he trusted me.” I shrugged. “But I get the idea I’m in big trouble with him.”

  “Oh, big, big trouble,” Nancy said, although her eyes twinkled with mirth. She glanced at my stained coat, worn jeans, and scuffed boots. “Did he tell you he was going to put you to work this afternoon?”

  “No, but he said to wear old clothes I don’t mind getting really, really dirty and to dress warm.”

  “I have no idea what that boy has planned, but don’t let him give you any grief,” Nancy said, squeezing my fingers.

  “When you come back in, we’ll have tea. I love that Christmas tea you brought to Nancy,” Charli said. “I hope you’ll stay for dinner. I’m making pecan-crusted chicken with parmesan potatoes.”

  “As delicious as that sounds, I should probably wait to see how this afternoon goes with Tim before I impose my presence upon you for dinner.”

  “I heard my name,” Tim said, walking into the room dressed in the same chore coat he’d worn the last time I was at the ranch. He had a
n old cowboy hat on his head and held a pair of gloves in his hand. He stared at me. “Ready to get at it?”

  “Sure,” I said, forcing myself to sound cheerful and smile.

  “You’ll be fine,” Nancy whispered before she let go of my hand. “And you’re staying for dinner.”

  I followed Tim outside. As we walked toward the barn, I yanked the stocking cap over my head, pulled on my gloves, and resolved myself to face whatever it was with a smile on my face.

  Fully expecting to have a shovel thrust into my hand and left to muck out stalls for the afternoon, I was shocked when Tim opened the barn door and led out two horses, already saddled.

  “Thought you might like to go for a ride.”

  “I’d love to!” Okay, I’ve always had a thing for horses and the opportunities for me to ride are few and far between. It’s hard to curb the enthusiasm when you truly are giddy with excitement.

  He grinned. “This is Jude. Nana used to ride her all the time before her hip started bothering her. She’s a nice, gentle horse.”

  The buckskin mare had the sweetest face and I was immediately in love. With the horse. Not the cowboy.

  “I think we’ll get along fine,” I said, taking the reins Tim handed to me.

  “Have you ridden before?”

  I nodded. “It’s been a while, though.”

  “It will all come back to you.”

  Before he could offer to help me on Jude, I set my foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle. His hand on my thigh made me look down my nose at him with a scowl until I realized he was trying to adjust the stirrup so it fit my long legs.

  “Thank you,” I said as he finished the left one and moved around to the other side.

  “Feel okay?” he asked, glancing up at me.

  “Yes. At least from what I remember, I think it’s about the right length.”

  He swung onto the back of Rowan, his big bay horse, and led the way away from the buildings and out across an empty field.

  I wanted to ask where we were headed, what work he wanted me to do, what punishment he had planned for the whole Santa thing. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and enjoyed the ride and the beautiful winter day.

  We’d ridden about half an hour when we neared a grouping of towering fir trees. Beneath the shelter of their thick branches the ground was bare, except for pinecones and needles. Tim stopped and stepped out of the saddle. I reined in near him, not surprised that my backside was starting to go numb and my thighs ached. At least I was relatively warm with all my layers of clothes, though.

  When I stepped out of the stirrup, I leaned against Jude for a minute until my legs felt a little steadier.

  Tim removed a Pendleton wool blanket he’d tied behind his saddle and pulled something out of his saddlebags. Amazed, I watched as he spread a blanket on the ground then set what appeared to be a thermos on one corner, along with a thick manila envelope.

  “Come on, you troublesome girl, and sit here with me for a while.” He held his hand out to me.

  Confused, I just stared at him. “What happened to me mucking out stalls or shoveling manure in the feedlot, or something equally as unpleasant?”

  He chuckled. “I never said I expected you to do any of those things. I just let you think you were going to be doing something awful as payback, which was the payback, or at least most of it.”

  “I knew it!” I crowed, then took his hand and walked with him to the blanket. We sat down, not too close, and he opened the thermos, poured liquid into the cup, and handed it to me.

  I sniffed and took a sip of the hot chocolate. It was perfect. Not too hot, not too sweet, with just a hint of peppermint. “Mmm. Did Charli make this?”

  “She might have offered a bit of instruction,” he said, guiding my hand to his mouth so he could take a drink. “It’s pretty good if I do say so myself.”

  He leaned back on his elbows and gazed out at the ranch.

  Mesmerized by the view (and I didn’t mean just Tim), I could have remained there for hours watching clouds float across the sky or the deer on the other side of the pasture as they hid in the trees. I’d already discovered Tim made a wonderful companion. And the more time I spent with him, the more at ease I felt with him.

  Content, I sighed. “It’s wonderful out here, Tim. So peaceful and lovely. You are blessed to live in such a beautiful place.”

  “I am,” he said, taking another sip of the chocolate when I held the cup out to him.

  “I really do apologize for yesterday. I had no idea that many kids would show up and I do feel bad about springing the Santa suit surprise on you out of the blue. I promise I won’t ever do anything like that again.” And I wouldn’t. Tim’s friendship had come to mean a great deal to me and I wouldn’t knowingly do anything to jeopardize it.

  He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. We sat in silence for a while, then Tim gave me a long, studying glance.

  “I do think you owe me a little something after yesterday.”

  I wondered what he had in mind. Kisses were a payment I was more than happy to deliver. “Such as?” I asked, my gaze focused on his enticing mouth.

  Heat blazed in his eyes, but he smirked. “I think you should have to answer a question for every kid that sat on my lap.”

  Good heavens! It seemed to me there were a hundred kids in the store. I had no intention of revealing that much about my life to him. Not a single doubt existed in my mind that his questions wouldn’t be about a new bestseller or the weather.

  “I’ll answer ten questions.”

  A frown creased his forehead and he sat forward, placing his elbows on bent knees as he stared at me. Eventually, he nodded in agreement. I assumed he had a long list of questions prepared, but he appeared to be considering what to ask first.

  “What’s one of your favorite memories of your dad?”

  The question caught me completely off guard. I’d expected an interrogation about why I moved back to Christmas Mountain or where I was all the years between leaving and buying the bookstore since that is a secret I didn’t readily share.

  Instead of thinking about what I didn’t want to answer, I considered Tim’s question. I had so many wonderful memories of my dad, it wasn’t easy to choose one.

  “My mom wasn’t one to get into the holidays, but Dad always did his best to make it special. The year I was fifteen, my mom flew to Los Angeles to meet with a client in December. She was gone almost two weeks. Dad and I decked the halls until it looked like one of Santa’s elves was having a rummage sale. We sang carols, attended all the community events, and we even went ice skating at a pond Dad had found a few miles out of town. I helped him cut down a tree and we decorated it. And we executed a very poor attempt at making fudge.” I grinned at him. “But we ate it anyway. It was pretty good spooned over ice cream.”

  He smiled. “It sounds like your father was a really good man and a great dad.”

  “He was. I miss him every day.” Mindful to keep things light, I quirked an eyebrow and looked at Tim. “Nine more left. What’s the next question?”

  “If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you choose?”

  “Christmas Mountain.” I answered without thinking because it was the truth. I loved living in the community where I grew up. “I’ve been to a lot of places and none of them compare to here. It’s home.”

  Evidently, whatever I said pleased him because his face practically beamed with joy.

  He leaned back on his elbows again and stretched out those long, muscular legs. “Of all the places you’ve visited, pick your top three and tell me why you chose them.”

  Thought and consideration were required to answer this question. I’d traveled all over the world and seen so many incredible things. It was hard to pick only three, but I finally narrowed down the list.

  I took another sip of the rapidly cooling chocolate then held the cup out to Tim. He took the last drink then refilled it, handing it back to me. I wrapped my hands around the
cup, grateful for the warmth. Sitting on the ground, even if it was on a beautiful Native American inspired blanket, in the shade of the trees on a chilly December day isn’t a great way to stay warm.

  I glanced at Tim and took another sip of the chocolate before I answered his question.

  “If I had to pick just three places, which is super hard, the top three, in no particular order would be Lake Bled in Slovenia, Castelluccio in Italy, and Smith Rock in Oregon.”

  Although he didn’t say anything, from the befuddled expression on his face, I was sure he expected me to rattle off big cities like New York, Tokyo, and Paris.

  “Why?” he asked, taking the chocolate from my hand and drinking deeply before he gave it back to me.

  “Have you ever heard of Lake Bled?” At the shake of his head, I continued. “The town is less than ten thousand in population, but there’s a magnificent emerald green lake with a tiny island in the middle with a church built right on its cliff. There’s a castle built in the eleventh century clinging to the slopes and it’s surrounded on all sides by towering mountains topped with snow and covered by ancient forests. You expect dragons and knights to appear at any moment.”

  “And for a girl who loves books, was it like stepping into a fairytale?” Tim asked with a grin.

  “It definitely was. It’s a place I hope to visit again someday.”

  “How about the place in Italy? Would you go back there?”

  “Yes, in June. Castelluccio is a tiny little village located on a hill in the midst of a sprawling plateau. From there, the view is spectacular, divided into three plains. Every year, between the end of May and July, those plains explode with color as thousands and thousands of flowers bloom. It literally looks like someone took an artist’s palette and spilled it over the earth.”

  “Wow!” Tim looked wistful, like he longed to see it for himself. He turned to me and raised an eyebrow in question. “And Smith Rock? After those two locales, you have to explain why a place in Oregon makes your list.”