Hannah looked at Nick and squealed with delight. “Wow, Nick! You’re going to have a brother or sister! How cool is that?”
The boy’s wide grin said it all. “That’s pretty cool, all right. There will be another little baby in the family to go with Joe. And I won’t be an only child anymore.”
“Better make sure you ask for everything this Christmas, Nick,” Holt advised the boy. “Next Christmas you’ll be sharing with little brother.”
“I won’t mind,” Nick told his uncle. “Having a brother or sister is all I want.”
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted, too. But I’ve quit asking,” Hannah said as she slanted her mother a disappointed glance. “Mom is getting too old to have a baby, anyway.”
Awkward silence suddenly settled over the table and with it a chunk of heavy guilt hit the pit of Vivian’s stomach. She’d made a mess of things when she’d married the wrong man and bore his child. Because of her bad choice in men, Hannah had grown up without a father and no siblings.
“Hannah, don’t be mean to your mother,” Holt scolded. “She’ll give you a brother or sister one day. When the time is right.”
Vivian cut him a grateful look, which only made him grin and shrug.
Down the table, Maureen cleared her throat and lifted her wineglass. “Let’s everyone toast to Blake and Kat and my fourth grandchild. Let’s pray the little firecracker will be healthy and happy.”
Everyone seconded Maureen’s sentiments and as Vivian picked up her long-stemmed glass, she glanced across the table at her brother and sister-in-law.
Blake was smart, she thought wistfully. He’d married a woman who loved him utterly. Whereas she’d chosen a man who’d only been capable of loving himself.
She was swallowing a sip of wine when Holt’s elbow gouged into her rib cage and she turned her head to look at him in question.
“What’s wrong?” he asked under his breath.
“Nothing is wrong,” she whispered back. “Why?”
“You look like you’re going to burst into tears. Aren’t you happy for your brother?”
She stiffened her spine. “Of course, I’m thrilled. I’m just feeling a little sentimental. That’s all.”
“Oh. That’s all, eh?”
“Yes. That’s all,” she said tartly. “Now hush and eat your ribs. Or I’m going to tell everyone you’ve been seeing Miss Holly Goodbody.”
His dark brows shot upward before he leaned his mouth closer to her ear. “Her name isn’t Goodbody. And for your information, I’ve not been seeing Holly.”
“Hmmp. That’s not what I’ve been hearing.”
She turned her attention back on her plate, only to have Holt’s elbow puncturing her ribs once again.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Except that it’s okay if you want another baby, you know.”
From out of nowhere, a tiny pain of loss and sadness settled over her. “Holt, don’t talk to me about babies. I’m not even married.”
He grinned. “Who said you had to be?”
She rolled her eyes at her brother, then purposely turned her attention back to her plate.
* * *
“You’ve been very quiet tonight, Sawyer. Are you unhappy that you took the job at Lake Pleasant?”
Sawyer looked across the small living room to where his grandmother sat in a wooden rocker, patiently stringing polished cedar berries and tiny turquoise and coral beads. Eventually, the string would become a necklace or bracelet to be sold at a tourist shop in Cottonwood. Nashota cared little for money. As long as she had enough for necessities, she was content. But crafting the jewelry made her feel productive and useful, and Sawyer admired her for wanting to remain that way in spite of her advancing years.
“No. I’m not unhappy. Today was very interesting. And I have new things to think about.”
“That’s good. So what do you think about the people you’ll be working with?”
Sawyer leaned forward and placed his empty mug on a small coffee table. After a meal of beef stew, fried bread and apple pie, he was stuffed. “I haven’t met all of them yet. But they seem like a nice group. My partner is a woman. Her name is Vivian, but our supervisor calls her Viv. I think because he’s known her for a long time.”
“And what do you call her?”
He leveled a patient grin at her. “Grandmother, what does that have to do with anything?”
“There are times I’m curious.”
Nashota had never been interested about such things before. Probably because she’d watched him change his dates like a man changed his boots or jeans and could clearly see that Sawyer never intended to have a serious relationship with a woman. So why was she questioning him now? he wondered.
“What’s this? You’re still thinking the Lake Pleasant job is going to bring me good fortune?”
Nashota lowered the string of beads to her lap and looked at him. “There is no thinking about it. The new job is going to bring you good fortune.”
He almost groaned, but managed to hold it back. Nashota took her mystical feelings very seriously and expected him to do the same.
“I’m not going to be digging for gold or silver down there, Grandmother,” he gently reminded her. “I’m basically going to be doing the same job as the one at Dead Horse Ranch. The only good fortune about that is the salary I’m paid.”
She stabbed him with a silent look of disappointment.
Sawyer sighed. “What’s wrong? I’m just telling you the way it is.”
“No. That isn’t the way it is. I’ve taught you that good fortune has nothing to do with money or gold or silver. I expect you to remember the lesson.”
“Well, I don’t really think good fortune has anything to do with Vivian, either.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Time will tell us.”
What was going through that wily mind of hers? Sawyer wondered. It wasn’t like her to have matchmaking thoughts about her only grandchild. Heck, for as far back as he could remember, she’d never so much as suggested to Sawyer that he should find a nice girl, settle down and raise a family. No, she seemed to understand that he wasn’t family man material. Not after his parents’ short, disastrous marriage.
“She has a twelve-year-old daughter.”
“Who?”
“Vivian. My partner. And she’s been divorced for nearly that long. She didn’t say this, but I got the impression he wasn’t much of a husband or father.”
“Maybe she wasn’t much of a wife.”
“You mean like Onida?” Sawyer couldn’t refer to the woman as his mother. Not when she’d chosen to walk away and forget she’d ever had a son.
“Hmmp. Onida was no wife or mother.”
Although Nashota rarely voiced her opinion about anyone, she’d never beat around the bush when it came to Sawyer’s mother, Onida. From what he could remember, she’d not been family material, either. She’d liked to stay on the go and party. Unfortunately, Sawyer had been old enough to remember the squabbles and yelling matches between his parents. And then his father had died and everything had changed.
“Vivian is not that kind of woman. She’s a good ranger.”
Nodding, Nashota put the rocker into a gentle motion. “I’m happy to hear this.”
Sawyer was happy, too. For the next few months, he’d be spending his days with the beautiful woman. To be handed such an opportunity was a gift. Or was it the good fortune his grandmother talked about? Either way, Sawyer planned to make the most of it.
* * *
Kat was pregnant. Blake would soon have a baby of his own. Vivian was truly happy for her brother and sister-in-law. But she had to admit, at least to herself, that the news had hit her hard. Especially when her own daughter had dubbed her too old to have a baby. Later last night, after Vivian had retired to her bedroom, she’d ch
anged into a pair of pajamas and stood gazing at herself in the dresser mirror. Was she getting to a point in her life where she needed to forget about having more children? Had she already passed the point of starting over with a man?
The questions had haunted her until she’d finally fallen asleep. Yet even now, with Mort at the front of the room, reminding her and her fellow rangers of the upcoming holiday events to be held in the park, she still couldn’t push away the melancholy mood that had drifted over her.
If it makes you feel any better you look a lot younger.
Had Sawyer actually meant that as a compliment? Or had he only been mouthing platitudes because she was his partner and he wanted to get on her good side?
The ridiculous questions were revolving around in her mind when Sawyer’s hand was suddenly touching her forearm, causing her to very nearly jump off the seat of the plastic chair.
“Vivian, the meeting is over,” he said.
She glanced around to see Mort had left his position behind the wooden podium, while the other rangers were already shuffling out of the conference room.
Her cheeks burning with embarrassment, she jumped to her feet and grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair. “Oh. Sorry, Sawyer. I was thinking about something.”
“Obviously not the park’s Christmas events,” he said drily.
As she shouldered on her jacket, he reached to pull the fabric up and over her shoulders. The gentlemanly gesture shouldn’t have affected her, but just as it had yesterday it rattled her. Having him touch her, even in such an impersonal way, made her acutely aware of his tall, hard body and the utterly masculine scent surrounding him.
“I didn’t miss the important issues,” she said, as she zipped up the front of the hunter green jacket. “Besides, this won’t be my first Christmas at the park.”
“It’s a relief to know you’re on top of things.”
She darted a glance up at him, then wanted to groan at the tempting little grin on his lips.
“You look like you’re perfectly capable of walking without me leading you.”
Chuckling under his breath, he nudged her toward the exit. “Ouch! You’re a regular little cocklebur this morning. Did you have enough coffee at breakfast?”
Actually, she’d tossed and turned for hours last night. Then, sometime after she’d fallen into a fitful sleep, the electricity had apparently blinked on and off to cause the alarm clock to miss the five o’clock buzzer. She’d overslept and barely had time to shower and dress, much less drink a cup of coffee. But she wasn’t going to admit as much to this man. He’d probably remind her that she should’ve made sure to have fresh batteries in the clock for a backup system.
“Not exactly. But I’ll be fine.”
Outside, as the two of them walked to their vehicle, a cool north wind was whipping across the parking lot, while a bank of gray clouds in the western sky suggested there might be rain in store for them. But a tease was most likely all that would come from the clouds. Rain was a rare commodity in this part of the state, and snowfall even more extraordinary. The chance of seeing snowflakes was as far-fetched as the idea of her having another baby. It wasn’t going to happen.
Trying to shove that dismal thought from her head, Vivian jerked a black scarf from the pocket of her jacket and tied it around her neck.
“Have you ever seen a white Christmas, Sawyer?”
“No. Have you?”
“The only time I’ve ever seen snow was during a trip to the San Juan Mountains in Colorado,” she said.
She opened the driver’s door to the SUV and slid behind the steering wheel. Sawyer quickly settled himself in the passenger seat and she started the engine.
As he buckled his seat belt, he said, “I saw snow once. On a trip to Flagstaff. It was melting the moment it hit the ground. So I’ve never seen a pile of the stuff before. Can’t say that I want to.”
She backed out of the parking spot, then pulled onto the asphalt road leading away from headquarters. “I couldn’t live in a northern state. I don’t like to be cold or housed in.”
“I heard once that Onida was in North Dakota.”
Surprised by his out-of-the-blue comment, she glanced at him. “That’s your mother?”
He grimaced. “Onida is the woman who gave birth to me. I wouldn’t categorize her as a mother, though.”
Vivian could understand his reasoning. If her mother had walked away from her and never returned, she’d probably be thinking in those same terms. “Did you try to search for her?”
He shook his head. “Why would I want to find her?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe to show her what she’s missed. To show her the fine young man you’ve grown to be. Even without her help.”
From the corner of her eye Vivian could see him shrug one shoulder, as though the woman’s opinion didn’t matter to him. The idea was a sad one. Nearly as sad as the thought that she’d never have the big family she’d always dreamed about.
“She’s dead, Vivian.”
Her gaze left the road long enough to look in his direction, but all she could see was the back of his head as he stared out the passenger window.
“You mean, literally?”
He looked at her, his expression as bland as if they’d been discussing the weather. Either he held no emotion for the woman, or he was an expert at hiding his true feelings, Vivian decided.
“Years ago, Grandmother was told by a mutual friend that she died in a car accident. But we never bothered to search for her whereabouts. Either way, she’s dead to me.”
Deciding it would be best to let the subject drop, Vivian remained silent as she steered the vehicle into the first campground on their work schedule.
The first three sites were quiet, prompting Sawyer to say, “Everyone must be sleeping late this morning.”
“Not everyone,” Vivian replied as she spotted a young woman with a blond ponytail wearing a pair of short shorts hurrying to the side of the road. Behind her, a small girl was struggling to control a leashed black-and-white dog.
When the woman began waving her arms at them, Sawyer said, “Looks like she wants us to stop.”
Vivian parked in a safe spot out of the way of traffic, but before either of them could depart the vehicle, the woman raced up to Sawyer’s window.
He lowered the glass and she gave him a wide smile.
“Are you two rangers?” she asked.
“That’s right,” Sawyer said. “I’m Ranger Whitehorse and she’s Ranger Hollister. Can we help you with something?”
Even from her vantage point, Vivian could see the young woman was ogling Sawyer as though she’d just stumbled onto the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes on.
“Uh—yes. Maybe you can. We wanted to go on the doggie hike or puppy walk or whatever it’s called. Is it somewhere around here?”
Sawyer looked to Vivian for help. “Sorry,” he said. “I haven’t had a chance to go through all the park projects yet.”
Leaning up in the seat, Vivian said to the woman, “Yes, it’s about a quarter mile north of here. Just follow the road until you see the signs to the hiking trailhead. But you’d better hurry.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “The ranger leading the group will be leaving in fifteen minutes and he’s always prompt.”
“Oh. Okay.” She shot Sawyer another engaging smile. “I don’t suppose you could give us a lift, could you?”
“No. Afraid not,” he said.
“Aww, guess we’ll have to hurry, then. I just hope the other ranger looks like you.”
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Vivian started the SUV and taking the hint, the young woman stepped out of the way.
Once she’d eased into gear and started down the road, Sawyer cleared his throat and turned an amused glance on Vivian.
“Park guests will ask a ranger any
thing,” he reasoned.
She let out a heavy breath. “I know. Over the years I’ve heard all sorts of things. Some of which I would never repeat.”
“She was a bit ditzy, but pretty,” he commented.
“You ought to be ashamed. She’s probably not a day past twenty.”
“What’s wrong with being young?”
“Nothing.” Except that Vivian had never felt more like an old biddy and she hated the feeling. And she especially hated this self-pity party she’d been having for herself ever since she’d learned Blake and Kat were having a baby.
“Is something wrong with you, Vivian?”
Unwittingly, her foot eased off the gas pedal. “Wrong? What do you mean?”
She glanced over at him and tried to ignore the way her pulse leaped at the sight of his dark profile.
“I’ve only known you for one day. But you’re different from yesterday. A little sad, I think. Am I making you sad, Vivian?”
His words weren’t necessarily intimate or provocative, and yet the way he said them made it feel as though he’d whispered them in her ear. The sensation caused goose bumps to erupt on her arms and she was thankful the long sleeves of her shirt hid them from his sight.
Swallowing, she said, “No. You aren’t making me sad. Or mad. I’m just a little thoughtful this morning. That’s all.”
“Your eyes are dull. Yesterday they were snapping with life. They were much prettier that way.”
Dear God, how did this man see so much about her? Garth had been her husband for two years, but he’d never noticed such little nuances about her eyes or mood or anything else. To know that Sawyer was observing her so closely was unsettling, to say the least.
“Sorry if I seem glum today, Sawyer. It has nothing to do with you.”
Not exactly, she silently corrected. But she could hardly tell him that his young, handsome face and lean sexy body had jolted awake her slumbering senses. No more than she could admit that spending time in his company had reminded her of the many things she’d been missing these past years since her divorce.
A Ranger For Christmas (Linda Lael Miller Presents; Men 0f The West Book 40) Page 4
