Then again he had kissed her.
“Does she work for the ranch?” Sofie mentally patted herself on the back for how normal she sounded.
“Not technically. She’s the vet.”
“Oh.” Sofie took in the small woman. “And she handles dogs and cats?”
Dan met her gaze. “She handles it all.”
Great. Not only was the redhead pretty, she was also accomplished. Sofie pushed down a wave of inadequacy. She had accomplished some things, like college and teaching. And fleeing cross-country from a controlling ex-husband. They counted, didn’t they? She was starting to handle it all.
“And she’s the biggest pain in the butt.”
That didn’t sound like admiration.
“Well, we can’t all be charming like you,” she said drily.
That earned her a snort and narrowed gaze. “You hungry?”
“I suppose gingerbread is on the menu?”
Dan laughed, and several heads turned toward them. Sofie smiled at the strangers, earning a nice wave or tip of the hat in return.
“No. I don’t think Candy would push the limits that far. Basic bar food. But if that doesn’t satisfy your cravings, then we can go somewhere else.”
“Fries sound heavenly.”
“Fries it is,” he said, and went to put in the order with Candy.
Sofie soaked in the atmosphere as another round of girls took off. Is that…? Surely that woman was not as old as she looked. But when the stool crossed the finish line and the cowgirl turned, Sofie’s mouth snapped open. That woman was clearly someone’s grandmother.
“It will be about five,” Dan said, hopping back in his chair.
Sofie pointed but couldn’t find a tactful way to ask.
“Oh boy.” Dan rubbed his hands together and sat up straighter. “That’s Polly. She takes yoga from your sister.”
“Is she…”
“Over seventy? Yep.” He snorted. “Lord, she’ll be worse than BJ if she wins. Man, this is going to be fun.”
The two women circled one another, trash talking, and Sofie took it all in. This was beyond anything she could have imagined occurring back home in Pennsylvania. She was sure friendly rivals like this existed there, but something about Fly Creek and its inhabitants added a little something to it. Not to mention the holiday magic all but being shoved down their throat.
In the end, there was no winner. Polly stuck her boot out, tripping Becky Jane but also hooking herself in the process. Both women went tumbling, Becky Jane in a much more athletic roll than Polly, who’s descent caused a hush rather than a rush of people. Both women declared themselves fine and were treated to a round at the bar.
Sofie couldn’t stop laughing. She hugged her belly as wave after wave of giggles moved through her.
“I promised you fun, didn’t I?”
Dan’s face was flushed with pride. He’d given her this gift of an evening. One full of French fries and frivolity. A small glimpse into the town she would come to call home. It eased so many of her concerns. And he did it all without taking anything for himself.
She wasn’t sure what to make of him. He seemed to be a bona fide gentleman, which while frustrating at times, was also completely attractive. He had to have some kind of ulterior motive, some dark secret or flaw. No one was this perfect.
“It’s been a lot of fun.”
“Tired?” He was honestly asking, the tone of his voice conveying nothing but concern for her. She examined herself and realized she wasn’t. She was content and peaceful.
“Not really.”
“Up for a walk around the square and some cider?”
“I’d like that.” He returned her smile with a genuine one of his own and helped her slide off the barstool. Her flats were silent on the wooden planks, each step reminding her of his earlier words.
“I think I want some boots.”
He glanced at her, a question in his eyes. It had been a rather random statement, even if the progression had followed in her mind.
She waved her hands in the air. “Sorry, that was random, but still, can you think of a single citizen in Fly Creek who doesn’t own at least one pair?”
He glanced around and then back, his eyes searching, but she would bet her favorite Jimmy Choos he was trying to prove her theory wrong. Finally, he shook his head. “Nope.”
“See. If I’m to be a resident, I need to walk the walk.”
He laughed.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said as he wiped the smirk from his face.
She stepped close to him, poking him in his well-muscled chest with a finger. She’d been trying for intimidation, but what she got instead was awareness. From both of them. His eyes widened, and the color deepened even as her pulse picked up and heat spread throughout. They broke away at the same time.
“If you mention my waddle, I’ll have to take you down.”
He nodded, not denying that was exactly what he’d been laughing about, but the lingering heat in his eyes made the awareness still coursing through her intensify. What on earth were they doing?
Dan led her out of the Wooden Nickel and onto a quiet but not entirely deserted Fly Creek street. The gazebo he mentioned sat in the square, its lights visible from a few blocks away.
“Potters is down here. Great teas and coffee, and at this time of year, hot chocolate and cider and mulberry wine.”
Adjusting her scarf, she slid her arm through his and let him lead her down the sidewalk. He’d tensed at the brief action, then relaxed and pulled her closer. This was nice. Simple. Fun. She had thought being “babysat” by him would be a chore, constricting. Instead, she felt carefree for the first time in years.
A low chorus reached her ears, and she glanced up to see a crowd of people surrounding the gazebo. She tugged Dan’s arm. “What’s that?”
“Town carolers.”
“Seriously?” They really were in a Christmas movie.
“What? You have a problem with Christmas carols?”
“Not at all.”
He glanced over at her and arched a brow. “Great. What’s your favorite?”
“‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.’”
“Ahh, Judy.”
Warmth and excitement burst through her at such a simple piece of knowledge. “Yes.”
“Great song and pretty good movie. One of Shelby’s favorites. She would make us watch it every Christmas.”
The giggles erupted again. “Somehow I have a hard time picturing you with a bowl of popcorn watching Meet Me in St. Louis.”
“Not just me. Her son and husband, too. I mean, you’ve met Shelby Marks. Can you picture going against her in anything?”
Sofie sobered. He may not have realized it, but he’d finally shared something about himself, something she hadn’t known she craved until it was out there. So much of her story could be inferred just from her arrival, but Dan was entrenched in his town. Everyone seemed to know him and adore him. And yet she knew nothing except his name and his job. Funny how that hadn’t seemed a problem for two people who had no connection beyond getting caught up in a herd of cows.
Well, until he kissed her.
“Good thing I love that woman. And the movie wasn’t too bad, either.”
Sofie’s throat swelled with emotion. This town, this man, her circumstances were all too good to be true. She felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it would drop.
…
Dan told himself the feeling of contentment was just because he was doing something he always did. Taking care of people. He was being dependable like Shelby asked him to be. Maybe if he repeated it enough times, he might actually start to believe it.
He pulled through the arches of Sky Lake and noticed Sofie craning her neck to take in everything. He slowe
d his speed and took the long way around to the main lodge, savoring every gasp and “ooh” and “ahh” that escaped her luscious lips. It had been stupid to kiss her and even stupider to blame it on the mistletoe, but she had looked every inch the angel he thought her, and how many people could claim they had kissed an angel? A possibly married angel. Lord, had he crossed a major line?
“Is anyone joining you on this holiday?”
They had just passed the roping barn, lit up in red and green, and enough light reflected through the windshield that he could see the frown forming.
“Nope. Just me, myself, and I.” She rubbed her stomach. “And my son.”
That still wasn’t confirmation, and as if she could hear his lingering concerns, she said, “I’m not married. Not anymore.”
The confession lingered in the cab. Somehow saying great didn’t seem like the appropriate response.
After he had stalled long enough, he brought them around to the main circle.
“Thank you for tolerating me tonight.” He pretended to flick his hair off his shoulder. “It’s nice to be able to let one’s hair down every now and then.”
Sofie laughed, which as exactly what he’d hoped, and he hopped out and circled around to open her door, more than pleased that she let him instead of pulling her usual stubborn, “I can do it, get out of my way.”
He planned to say goodnight right there, but something about the lines that bracketed her face and the slight way her shoulders stooped had him reaching for her hand and tucking it into his arm. She turned easily, and they climbed the steps to the main porch.
Most of the lights were dimmed in the chandeliers overhead, and the trees remained lit. Music still piped softly, the chords of “White Christmas” following them to the elevator. He should totally say goodnight there. Enough blurred lines already existed for him from this evening, but when the elevator doors opened, they stepped in side by side. A quick glance at her face showed no concern, no awkwardness. She leaned into him and let him support her a little more.
“I’m so sorry to have kept you out so late. I should have seen you were tiring and brought you back here immediately.”
She looked up at him. “I’m not going to break. And while I am tired, honestly, I’m tired all the time. I wouldn’t have traded tonight for an extra hour or two of sleep. It was wonderful and just what I needed.”
The tension in the elevator was nearly claustrophobic. He desperately wanted to take Sofie in his arms and kiss her. A real kiss. One that lingered as he explored her mouth with slow, sweeping strokes.
Finally, the doors opened, and he led her to her room. This was definitely where he would say goodnight and thank her again, but when she opened the door and invited him inside, he followed. Blurred lines be damned.
Chapter Seven
“Will you kiss me?”
The words were whispered so softly, Dan swore he’d imagined the request rather than actually heard it. But one glance at Sofie’s face, one touch of eyes that held passion and fear and doubt, and he’d already cupped her delicate chin and lowered his head.
The first brush was a benediction. The second, confirmation that not only did Sofie look like an angel, but she felt like one as well. The kiss stayed chaste. Two people drawing strength and emotion from simple brushes and lingering caresses. He pulled her closer and nuzzled her chin. Her head dropped back, allowing him access to her long, graceful neck. Each sweep of his mouth against her skin lit a fire inside him. One that had nothing to do with the sexual, and all to do with worshiping.
Sofie pushed away with a gasp. “Oh!” Her hands cradled the bump that had prevented them from plastering against one another.
“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” He was done apologizing for wanting things. For seizing the moment. Plus, she’d asked.
“It’s not— Oof.”
He wrapped his hands on her shoulders, concern replacing the haze of passion still arcing between them. “What’s wrong?”
She smiled. “It seems I have a protective one in here.”
Dan glanced down to see her hands jerking against her stomach. He placed his hands over hers and was instantly rewarded with a sharp jut.
It was if his heart stopped for a minute and kicked back in with a new rhythm. One that beat to Sofie and her baby’s heartbeat.
How long they stood there enjoying the antics of her baby boy, he couldn’t say. It was only the loud knock at the door that had their hands reluctantly dropping.
Dan opened it to find a tray and one of the kitchen staff.
“Dan, hey. Shelby sent this up for Ms. Pennington. Thought she might be hungry since she didn’t see her in the dining room earlier this evening.”
Dan moved aside and let the server in. Sofie had her back to the guest, no doubt trying to contain the emotions that had spilled across her face the moment before their interruption.
“Thank Shelby for me,” Sofie threw over her shoulder, and the server left.
Dan peeked under a platter. “In true Shelby fashion, she’s got all the basic food groups covered.”
Sofie turned to face him and smiled, but it was weak and wary. “She definitely likes to make decisions for people, doesn’t she?”
Something in Sofie’s tone had him on high alert. She’d been touchy about doing things for herself since she’d tried to take on those cows when they met. He wasn’t sure what the story was there, but he knew when a retreat was called for.
“I’ll leave you be to enjoy your food in peace. Thanks for joining me tonight. I had a great time.”
Sofie crossed over to him and hugged him. As she let go, his body urged him to prolong it, but he knew better. There was nothing but simple thanks in the hug. Gone was the awareness, the tension. The shared connection over the somersaults of her unborn child. She was spooked, and honestly, so was he. This was crazy for both of them.
“Thank you for a fun evening.”
He grabbed his hat and left, ignoring how her emphasis on the word fun rubbed him the wrong way. As if she wanted to erase the connection that shone brightly this evening. Sofie Pennington was here, pregnant, and ready to start a new life in Fly Creek. He was still determined to leave the ranch and the town. He was done being a substitute for anyone or anything. Besides, if she could brush it off so easily, was there really anything even there? Was this just wishful thinking on his part for some type of Christmas miracle?
If he left, would he ever find out the truth? And if he stayed, would he have a heart left when it was all said and done?
…
The next morning, Sofie trailed her gloved fingers along the split rail fence. Little patches of snow remained here and there, but for the most part, the dirt and gravel were free and clear. The biting winter air still snapped and pinched, but she welcomed it. Welcomed the sign that she was well and truly free. That her new life and path, the one where she was in charge, making the decisions, calling the shots, was here and now. A peace had settled into her veins, leaving her movements and heart more carefree. More open to making and sticking to the decisions that were hers and hers alone now.
In the couple of days since meeting the welcoming committee of bovines, she had started to live life. She’d taken walks, watched some races, kissed a cowboy. None of that added up to anything life-altering, but it was something. Something she had complete control over. She had also contacted Emily’s doctor and had an appointment set up. Every decision counted, right?
Thinking about how little she had accomplished led to thinking about how many decisions remained. Stopping, Sofie took a deep breath and waited for her heart to calm down its gallop. She could do this. Was doing this. Everything did not need to be decided today.
She’d walked down to the lake and around to the same bench where she’d sat and watched Dan with the boys. Today, the lake’s surface was still full of people ice fishi
ng. She assumed they knew what they were doing, but she hadn’t missed the few ranch hands wandering the shore keeping a close eye on things.
Relaxing against the cold wood, she laughed as a fish found its freedom thanks to some slippery gloved hands. These visitors were enjoying their life. Making memories. One day she could be out there teaching her son how to ice fish. Helping him bait the hook and making sure he was steady on his feet. The fact that she had no idea how to ice fish didn’t matter. She would learn. And then she would teach.
It would be nice if I had a co-teacher.
Wasn’t that the truth. While she was choosing to go it alone, there was no disputing that four hands were better than two. Especially, she imagined, with little boys. Little country boys, at that.
She left her bench and uneasy thoughts and circled back around. A glance at the paddock on her right showed a few horses milling about, plaid and solid-covered blankets on their backs. She tightened her coat, a new one much more suited to this weather than the parka, which Dan had pegged on the nose. Thinking back over the past three days, she hadn’t expected to stand out so much. It wasn’t like she was in a foreign country, and yet things were different here in Fly Creek. Not just in clothing and sayings and sights, but in the pace, the feeling. It was as if the outside world was held just a little at bay.
She wasn’t foolish enough to think it was Mayberry, with no downside or crime or any of the other stuff, but it did give the illusion that it had a force field that kept the uglier parts of the world away. Or at least toned down. Either that or they were really good at keeping things a secret, which, given the way gossip seemed to spread, she doubted.
She waddled on, and another paddock came up on her left. The road right before it she knew would take her down to Dan’s cabin. It was a tidbit of information she shouldn’t care about. Shouldn’t even remember, and yet she knew it by sight and could picture the little lane widening down and to the right, where it ended at his home. The cabin rose up in her mind, honey gold with a maroon roof, the front porch empty except for a floor mat with a large R in the center. She’d just been able to make out maroon curtains through the windows on either side of the wooden door.
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