The Secret of Santa

by Liz Isaacson

  “Lord,” he said, pressing his eyes closed as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. “What do I do here?”

  A question popped into his mind. Is she hurting anyone?

  “No,” Ace answered himself aloud, his answer clear. Leave it alone, then. She was a grown woman, and her husband had died fifteen years ago. She was allowed to date.

  Ace was also very, very good at keeping secrets, so he drew in a deep breath, exhaled, and opened his eyes. “Aunt Lois and the fire chief,” he said, his voice full of wonder. He started to chuckle, because love was an amazing thing, and he wanted his aunt to be happy.

  He thought of his own mother, widowed now for coming up on six years. She lived in an assisted-living facility, because she had a few health problems. Could she have a boyfriend there?

  She could, and Ace wouldn’t even know it.

  When he should’ve turned left to get on the highway that led south of Three Rivers and up to the ranch, he kept going straight instead. He needed to go see his mother and ask a couple of questions.

  Chapter Six

  Holly Ann burst out laughing, which earned her a disgruntled look from Snickers. She kept giggling as she stroked the little dog, then quickly started typing a response to Ace. The man was a brilliant flirt, and she’d been telling him about her meeting with the hospital administrator over the children’s wing.

  Seriously, Ace, she said no sexy elves, Holly Ann had sent to him. Like she made a strong point of it, so we’d know for sure. Who’s dressing up as a sexy elf to deliver presents to terminally ill children?

  He’d said, Someone confused about their holidays, obviously. Sexy elves on Halloween? Fine. For Christmas? Scandalous!

  Holly Ann sighed as she leaned back against her pillows and nestled down into her comforter. She hadn’t seen Ace that day, but he’d sent her a couple of pictures of his Chinese food, claiming he missed her. He’d then sent her a picture of him and his mother, and Holly Ann scrolled up to look at it again.

  His mother had bright blue eyes that shone like stars. She radiated beauty, and with Ace’s face right next to hers, both of them smiling for all they were worth, Holly Ann experienced true joy. She smiled back at his picture, swiping away the text that came in from April Thorne.

  Her smile faded quickly, despite Ace’s handsome face still grinning at her. He made her feel so amazing about herself. He loved everything she cooked. He shared himself and his life with her. He asked about her meetings and her life, as if he really wanted to know.

  Her eyes automatically moved to her closet, but Holly Ann had shut the door a few days ago, and the suit couldn’t be seen. Her father’s cryptic messages hadn’t helped her at all, but Holly Ann told herself she still had a few weeks before it would be an issue anyway.

  Santa didn’t show up in Three Rivers until the day following Thanksgiving, and she ignored April for another few minutes while she messaged Bethany Rose about the meal her sister was hosting at her farm that year.

  Can I invite Ace? she asked.

  I thought you already had, her sister said.

  Not yet.

  Ace’s family put hers to shame simply by sheer size. He’d surely be busy with them over the Thanksgiving holiday, but she wondered if he’d be able to carve any room into his schedule for her.

  Another giggle spilled from her mouth as she thought about her pun. She put it in a text and sent it. What are you doing for Thanksgiving? Can you carve my family dinner into your plans? She’d added a turkey emoji and everything.

  Her phone rang, Ace’s name right there on the screen with his profile picture. “Hey,” she drawled, and Snickers got up and moved to the end of the bed like her voice really bothered him.

  “Thanksgiving dinner with your dad and sister?” Ace asked instead of saying hello.

  “And Bethany Rose’s husband,” Holly Ann added. “They have two dogs too, and let me tell you, Boomer and Boxer have the names they do for a reason.” She grinned up at the ceiling, the stress of the day melting from her. As long as she didn’t look at April’s text, the busyness of tomorrow couldn’t touch her either.

  Ace chuckled and said, “They must be bigger than Snickers.”

  “And not as well-behaved,” she said, looking down to her little dog. “Beth’s a decent cook, and her husband is fantastic with smoked meats. When she hosts, they always do a whole buffet. Smoked brisket. Smoked turkey. Smoked ribs.”

  “I think I’m in love with her husband,” Ace teased, eliciting another giggle from Holly Ann.

  “What’s your schedule like on Thanksgiving?”

  “We have lunch about one,” he said. “My sisters and my cousin do most of the cooking. We eat all together at the homestead next door.” He hesitated for a moment, and then added, “What time do you guys eat?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Beth’s pretty flexible.”

  “Maybe we could do both,” Ace said. “Lunch out here. Dinner there.”

  Holly Ann didn’t even really like turkey that much, but she could eat a vat of mashed potatoes any day of the week. “Let me find out. She’d want to do like four o’clock or something, which isn’t really dinner….”

  “You just tell me,” he said. “I’ll handle my family.”

  “Does anyone else not eat with the family?”

  “Uh.”

  That was a no. She marveled at that, though she supposed Ace’s brother and cousin had just gotten married last spring. They hadn’t had to try to mesh together two families or their holiday schedules and traditions yet.

  Not only that, but the Glovers put up their Christmas decorations and trees really early. She was supposed to attend a family dinner and tree decorating celebration a few days ago that she’d had to miss because of the festival announcement.

  She took a long breath, because Holly Ann didn’t have time to be snuggling into blankets while she chitchatted with her boyfriend. Another meeting had been scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, and she needed to make at least five phone calls before then.

  And perfect a cherry pie recipe that had refused to cooperate with her.

  “I’m sure Sammy and Bear will go to her parents’,” Ace said. “Though they usually do come up here….”

  “If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work,” Holly Ann said. “It’s fine.”

  “If she does it at four or so, it should be fine.”

  “I’ll talk to her.”

  “Okay,” Ace said. “Hey, while I have you, what’s your schedule the rest of this week? I’m thinking maybe we should schedule things instead of me texting you ten minutes beforehand.”

  “I’m fine either way,” Holly Ann said.

  “Yes, but it’s a thirty-minute drive from the ranch for me,” he said. “And if I don’t need to—if I can’t see you, the only other reason I’m comin’ that far is for pumpkin pie.”

  “Gross,” Holly Ann said with another laugh. Warmth and a comfy feeling soared through her though, and her smile felt made of gold on her face. “Glad to know I’m up there with the most disgusting dessert on the planet.”

  “The most disgusting dessert on the planet?” Ace asked indignantly. “The whole planet, Holly Ann? Seriously, come on.”

  “I do not like pumpkin pie, Mister Glover.”

  He laughed, the sound delicious in her ears. “I thought chefs liked everything.”

  “Chefs are normal people too,” Holly Ann said, shaking her head as she continued to grin. Snickers got up and came to snuggle into her hip again, and she reached over to pat him. “There are things I like and things I dislike. Now, I can make the best pumpkin pie on the planet, but that doesn’t mean I want to eat it.”

  “What if you had to drive thirty minutes to get to town?” Ace asked. “What would you do it for no matter what? Rain, snow, wind, fire, you’d do it.”

  “Dessert-wise?”

  “Anything-wise,” Ace said, his voice somewhat serious now.

  Holly Ann knew what she wanted to say. He’d proba
bly like to hear it too. “I do absolutely love with my whole Texan soul a pecan pie,” she said, plenty of coyness in her voice. “I’d drive any distance to see a movie with Orlando Bloom in it.”

  “Oh, boy,” Ace said dryly.

  “And there’s this man that always wears this sexy cowboy hat. Always black. He’s got these dark brown boots that make my heart thump a little harder.” Holly Ann grinned to herself. “He also wears these plaid shirts that I’d drive thirty minutes just to see. In fact, I’d like to get inside this man’s closet and see if he organizes them by color.”

  Ace remained silent, and Holly Ann wondered if she’d gone a little too far. Her feelings for Ace weren’t secret; they never had been. She just had so many other secrets that she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of him.

  You’ve already done that, she thought. With what you just said.

  “And oh, my, his belt buckles light up my life,” she continued anyway. “I think his brother rode in the rodeo for a bit, and he lets him borrow some of the nicer ones.”

  “It was my cousin, actually,” Ace said very quietly.

  Holly Ann stroked Snickers, wondering why Ace wasn’t laughing. Didn’t he want her to be willing to drive through snow, sleet, fire, and flood to see him? At least he knew she was talking about him.

  “Right,” she said. “Cousin. That’s what I meant.”

  “You have the Thorne reception tomorrow night, right?”

  “Yes,” she said, surprised he remembered that. She’d told him about the momzilla that had been fairly difficult to work with over a month ago, and she remembered that April had texted several minutes ago. Honestly, Holly Ann was surprised she hadn’t called yet.

  “Lunch?” he asked.

  “I wish I could, Ace,” she said, regret pulling through her. “I have a meeting at two-thirty, and I need to have all of the food for the reception done before then.” Including those pesky cherry pies. “I’ve rented the kitchen at Sullivan’s, because they don’t open until five, and I can get three times as much done in an industrial kitchen.”

  “I suppose you’ll be there pretty early,” he said. “I should let you go.”

  “Eight’s not too early,” she said, though a yawn pulled through her throat. “But yes, I better get to bed.”

  “‘Bye, Holly-berry,” he said, and she smiled as she said good-bye to him too. She’d barely had time to sigh and set her phone on her nightstand before it rang again. She swung it up to her ear, expecting it to be Ace. He’d probably just forgotten to tell her something.

  Thankfully, she caught the name before she answered, and her heart plummeted to her feet when she saw April Thorne’s name there. “April,” Holly Ann said. “I am looking at your one-sheet right now and was about to call.”

  She pushed back her blanket and got out of bed to go do what she’d just said. That way, she couldn’t be called a liar, and she could dispute anything April tried to get her to do that she hadn’t agreed to in writing.

  The following morning, Holly Ann drove around Sullivan’s and into a narrow alley that ran behind the restaurant and the cement wall behind it. She parked next to a sporty, yellow coupe, and she stood from her rental car at the same time Alta Barber rose from hers.

  “Morning, Al.” Holly Ann gave the other brunette a smile over the top of her car and pressed the button on her key fob to get the trunk to pop open.

  “Need some help?” Alta asked. She had the personality of fire, and she could be warm and inviting or spitting and cruel. Holly Ann had always liked her, and since they both worked in the food business now, they’d become close over the past year.

  “I’d love it.” Holly Ann lifted one plastic tote from her trunk while Alta unlocked the door. She held it for Holly Ann as she walked inside, and then Alta went to get something from the trunk too.

  Holly Ann had just plunked her bin on a stainless steel counter when Alta came in carrying the basket full of spices. “How’s the baby?” She took the lightweight basket from Alta and hugged her.

  She felt like a giant next to trim, petite Alta. Despite her being seven months pregnant and basically having a basketball protruding from her midsection, Alta grinned at Holly Ann. “He’s doin’ great.” She looked down at her belly and put one hand there. “The doctor says I’ll be lucky if I make it the full nine months.”

  “Is that right?” Holly Ann started for the back door, her friend coming with her. “How are you feeling about that?”

  “I’m four-foot-eleven,” Alta said dryly. “I told him to take the baby out right now.” She trilled out a laugh and Holly Ann handed her a lidded tote with only large cooking utensils and her knives in it. She lifted out a second huge bin with the rest of the ingredients she needed to make the refreshments for April Thorne’s daughter’s wedding reception.

  She was doing a three-slot hot dessert bar, with an assortment of room-temperature mini pies. Holly Ann’s excitement grew as she thought about the raspberry bread pudding with almond-vanilla icing on tonight’s menu. She and April had also agreed on a warm brownie batter cake with caramel swirls, and one of Holly Ann’s signature desserts for this quarter: apple, pear, and white peach crisp with honey oat topping and brown butter maple drizzle. Her mouth watered just thinking about it.

  She returned to her car to get another load of ingredients from the back seat, and then she started unpacking everything while Alta talked about the nursery she and her husband had been setting up for the past six months.

  Holly Ann listened, because she genuinely liked Alta. She’d married Trevor almost a decade ago, but this was their first baby. Her family owned Sullivan’s, and Alta was set to take over the restaurant once her father retired.

  With the menu and checklist in front of her, Holly Ann started marking off the items on the counter to make sure she had everything.

  “Oh, I have to run,” Alta said. “You’re okay here?”

  “Yes.” Holly Ann glanced up and caught Alta looking at her phone and typing something in. “I’ll be out by one, as promised. I just lock up?”

  “Yes,” Alta said. “I’ll lock it now, and when you go out, it’ll just stay that way. So don’t go out until you’re ready.” She kicked at something on the floor. “There’s a doorstop here, if you need to make a couple of trips to load up.”

  “Perfect.” Holly Ann consulted her list again, noting several missing items. The vanilla extract. Very important. Cocoa powder. Essential. Wild rose honey. A must-have.

  A frown pulled at her eyebrows, and then, all at once, she remembered she’d put these things in a bin together, and it still sat on her front passenger seat. She turned toward the door, hoping to catch Alta.

  Thankfully, she still stood at the door, fiddling with the lock.

  “I forgot something in my car,” Holly Ann said just as Alta rounded the door. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “What?” Holly Ann had much longer legs than Alta, and she strode forward at the aghast look on her friend’s face.

  “You better get out here,” Alta said, her expression melting into a charmed smile.

  “Why?” Holly Ann reached the door and put her hand on it to pull it open further. She peered over Alta’s head and found someone else had arrived in the back alley. A gasp flew from her throat, and she covered her now-pounding pulse with one palm.

  “There’s a cowboy here with breakfast,” Alta said. “That’s why.”

  Not just a cowboy, Holly Ann thought as she drank in the glorious sight of Ace Glover in that black cowboy hat, the biggest belt buckle she’d seen yet, and those dark brown boots. Not only that, but he wore a loud plaid shirt today in bright pink, blinding turquoise, and bleached white that strained across his chest and upper arms as he held a tray in front of him with breakfast balanced on it.

  He’s a man among men.

  Chapter Seven

  Ace swallowed, glancing from Holly Ann to Alta. He knew Alta Sullivan—Barber now—just fine. He knew she and Holly Ann were frien
ds. He hadn’t anticipated her being here, but the yellow sports car had given it away.

  She looked one breath away from popping, and he wasn’t sure how she walked as pregnant as she was. She grinned at him, and said, “Good morning, Ace.”

  “Morning, Alta,” he said, the tray starting to get heavy. He’d spent far too long organizing it to stand there in the parking lot and let his hard work get ruined should the tray start to slip. “Can I come in?”

  “Absolutely,” Alta said, and Ace watched Holly Ann nod too.

  He approached, the vase with the flowers definitely trembling too much. He’d obsessed over where to put them, and it might not even matter. If the glass shattered on the floor, he’d get in his truck and never leave Shiloh Ridge again. He’d be unable due to death by humiliation.

  You’ve already rammed the woman’s garage, he thought as he slid the tray with French toast, scrambled eggs, and an assortment of breakfast meats onto the closest horizontal surface.

  He heard female voices behind him, and only Holly Ann returned to the kitchen. The huge, heavy door slammed behind her, and she cringed, her shoulders hunching up for a moment.

  Her eyes met his when they opened again, and a smile bloomed on that beautiful face.

  “My shirts aren’t organized by color,” he said.

  Holly Ann laughed and practically danced over to him. She took his face in her hands, her eyes wide and filled with so much happiness. Her happiness made him happy, and Ace slid his hands along her waist. “I thought you might need breakfast to start off your busy day right. They say it’s the most important meal, you know.”

  “Mm.” She let her eyes drift closed. “I didn’t eat breakfast.”

  He gazed at her, and with her eyes closed, she was a softer version of the sexy woman he’d started to fall for. He liked the strong version of Holly Ann too. And the sweet one. The woman who’d performed at his aunt’s birthday party last summer. The woman who’d flirted with him shamelessly last night.