“I never knew what Christmas was really like before,” she admitted. “Yours was the first tree I ever helped decorate. Not to mention the first I ever went into the woods to find and help cut.”
“That was some sleigh ride,” Ross recalled with a grin.
Jessica blushed at the memory. Naked beneath the furs and blankets, they’d made love in the sleigh. If it hadn’t been for the heat of their passion, they’d have suffered serious frostbite.
“A regular part of your Christmas tradition?” she asked with a sidelong glance.
“I plan to make it that way,” he admitted.
“Then you’ll have to make sure Fiona and Courtney go to Miami at tree-cutting time each year.”
“Speaking of Courtney,” Ross said, “it’s almost time for Santa to make his appearance.”
“You’re sure she’s asleep?” Jessica asked.
“Probably not, but I warned her if she interrupted Santa, he wouldn’t leave her anything.”
Jessica stared at the fire, feeling safe and snug in Ross’s arms. Recalling her brush with death at Carson Kingsley’s hands, she shivered.
“What’s wrong?” Ross asked.
“Just thinking about Carson.”
“You don’t have to worry about him. He’s locked up for a long time. And undergoing psychiatric evaluation.”
“Was he always crazy?”
Ross shrugged. “Maybe. Either Susan kept him under control or else her death pushed him over the edge. His paranoia about government is totally irrational.”
“What’s going to happen to the bank robber?” Jessica asked.
“I’ve put in a good word about his cooperation in helping me find you.”
“And he was part of SCOFF?”
“Carson had recruited him,” Ross explained. “The purpose of the robbery was to fill SCOFF’s coffers with funds to wage their antigovernment war.”
“Are there other members?”
“When Garrigan realized he might gain a lighter sentence, he told us the names of everyone who’d ever expressed the slightest interest in their cause. Before the end of the month, we’ll have the whole rotten bunch rounded up.”
“The end of the month,” Jessica murmured. “My report will be finished by then.”
“Will I pass muster?” Ross asked, looking amused.
“Not financially,” Jessica said with a grimace. “If you didn’t spend so much time as sheriff, you could make the Shooting Star twice as profitable. I don’t know what Fiona’s reaction to that fact will be.”
“You think she’ll refuse to transfer the ranch to my name?” Ross said.
“She’s your grandmother. You know her better than I.”
“There was never any question about the ranch coming to me.” Ross shook his head in admiration. “She’s a schemer.”
“The secret Santa bit?” Jessica asked.
“It goes deeper than that,” Ross said. “She confessed everything to me. First she and Max Rinehart conspired to throw you and me together. Then Fiona enlisted Chang Soo as her deliveryman, hoping you’d think the secret Santa flowers and messages were from me. It’s a wonder she didn’t just steal our clothes and lock us naked in a room together.” He appeared thoughtful. “That would have worked.”
Jessica slapped him playfully on the upper arm. “You are so bad.”
“Want to see how bad I can be?” he asked with a suggestive leer.
“What if Santa shows up?” she asked. “We wouldn’t want him to catch us being naughty.”
“That reminds me.” Ross released her, stood and went to the tree. After burrowing in the pile of gifts beneath it, he returned to her with a small box in his hand. “This is for you. From your not-so-secret Santa.”
He placed the black velvet box in her hand. “Open it.”
Her heart beating with excitement, Jessica lifted the lid. Myriad diamonds winked at her, set in a yellow-gold band. The largest was a star, and the smaller ones formed a meteor trail, just like the Shooting Star’s brand.
Her breath caught in her throat. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s the Shooting Star. I’m offering it to you.”
Her eyes widened in amazement. “You’re giving me your ranch?”
He took the ring and slid it onto the third finger of her left hand. “Half of it anyway. That’s what marriage means. We share everything. Will you marry me, Jessica?”
His proposal left her speechless, and when she didn’t respond, anxiety spread across his face. “We could spend some of the winter in Miami, since you hate the cold.”
She still couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat.
“Or all winter, if that’s what it takes,” he offered as if in desperation.
Suddenly she found her voice. “Oh, yes,” she whispered.
“Winters in Miami?” he asked.
She admired the sparkle of the diamonds in the firelight before wrapping her arms around his neck and lifting her face to his.
“Winters anywhere,” she said, “as long as we’re together.”
“Oh, I plan for us to be together for a long, long time. An eternity, at least.”
“That might be long enough,” she said, and kissed him.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-3740-7
THE CHRISTMAS TARGET
Copyright © 2003 by Charlotte H. Douglas.
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* Identity Swap
The Christmas Target Page 18
