Colton Christmas Rescue

by Beth Cornelison

  “Oh, no...I’m fine.”

  Mathilda bustled away, and he followed her into the kitchen. As he approached Tom, Slade eyed Amanda’s daughter.

  “Cute kid,” he said, admitting that Cheyenne was, in fact, exceptionally cute with a cherubic face and bright eyes. Although with a mother as attractive as Amanda, how could she miss?

  Tom lowered his coffee and appraised him with a wariness Slade recognized. A cop’s subtle scrutiny. Tom was either on the job or used to be. “I agree.”

  Slade introduced himself and explained that he’d met Amanda this morning in the stable. “Why are you taking care of the baby instead of one of the maids or one of her sisters?”

  “Someone else might help out after breakfast, but I’m Cheyenne’s bodyguard. Amanda called me when she had to take care of the sick horse early this morning.” Tom took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “I was hired after attempts were made during the summer to kidnap her. But having raised three girls of my own and currently spoiling five grandkids, I don’t mind changing diapers or wiping snotty noses when my little princess here needs it. Amanda knows her girl is in good hands with me.”

  One of the cooks walked up and held out a small pastry to Cheyenne. “Hey, sweetie pie, do you want a yummy?”

  The young woman glanced at Tom before handing a piece of the sweet to Cheyenne, and he shrugged. “Go ahead. I let my grandkids eat cookies for breakfast if they want. It’s part of spoiling them.”

  Slade kept his opinion of the sugary diet for the baby to himself and turned to the attractive cook. “Are you Kate?”

  She blinked her surprise. “I am.”

  “I was told you might bag up some cinnamon rolls to go for Amanda and me? We’re working with a colicky horse out in the stable and have been up for a while.”

  Kate nodded. “Absolutely. Just cinnamon rolls? I can fix you an omelet or something if—”

  Slade shook his head. “No, thanks. Just the rolls for now.”

  Another member of the kitchen staff approached Cheyenne, cooing over her, and Slade took his leave, returning to the dining room to fix the thermos of coffee. Soon Fiona was back with Amanda’s socks, Kate had supplied him with a bag of cinnamon rolls and he had a thermos, condiments and two mugs tucked in a sack. Armed with what he’d come inside for, Slade headed back to the stable and found Amanda grinning from just outside Peanut’s stall.

  “We have achieved poop!” she announced cheerfully. When she smiled, Slade was struck again by her natural beauty and felt a stir of attraction low in his belly.

  He arched an eyebrow and gave her a wry look, although the fact that Peanut had moved his bowels meant the crisis had passed. “Um...yay?”

  Raking loose strands of hair back from her face, she laughed and shook her head. “I know. How sad is it that horse poop is the highlight of my day?” She twisted her mouth in thought, then added, “In fact, as a ranch vet and the mother of an eight-month-old, my days are pretty much filled with poop and vomit and other bodily excretions.” She sighed dramatically. “I need to get a life...but where do I find the time?”

  He extended the bag of pastries toward her. “I can’t help with the state of your life, but I brought sugar and caffeine.”

  She peeked in the bag and groaned hungrily. “Bless you!”

  He reached in his pocket. “And socks.”

  A cinnamon roll already jammed in her mouth, she mumbled, “Oh, thanks!” After taking a large bite of pastry, she put the roll back in the bag and sat down on a hay bale to pull off her boots.

  Somehow the sight of her slim bare feet, red from the cold, felt awkwardly...intimate to his sleep-deprived brain. He set the socks down beside her and turned his back to pour their coffee. “By the way, your daughter was the center of attention in the kitchen just now when I was getting our food.”

  “Yeah, she’s going to be spoiled if I’m not careful. The staff loves to dote on her.”

  An unmistakable pride filled her voice that both moved him and rubbed a raw spot in his soul. He shoved both reactions down, burying them under layers of practiced control and distance. He wasn’t here to get involved in the Coltons’ personal lives. He had a job to do, and he needed to keep his focus on that mission.

  He doctored her coffee with cream and sugar, and when he turned to hand it to her, he was greeted with a smile that shone as much from her golden eyes as from her lips. Damn she was beautiful!

  He cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Cream and sugar.”

  She accepted the coffee and sipped, then hummed her enjoyment, a purr of pleasure that he could easily imagine her making during sex.

  “Perfect. Thanks.” She retrieved her cinnamon roll and turned back to Peanut’s stall. “I think it’s safe to leave him for the time being. I’ll check on him throughout the day, of course.” She took another big bite of cinnamon roll, then licked crumbs from her lips.

  Good old-fashioned lust kicked him hard, and his chest tightened. He took a sobering gulp of coffee. His reaction to Amanda had to be due in part to fatigue lowering his defenses.

  She cut a glance to him. “We’re short-handed today, so I’ll be in the area helping feed the horses and mucking stalls.”

  “Yeah, I heard most of the hands are heading to Vegas today for the rodeo.” He jammed his free hand in his back pocket. “I’d planned to meet with the ranch crew for introductions, getting myself up to speed on the operation.” Getting insight to who might have pertinent information about the events of recent months, who might be hiding something.

  “Cal’s sticking around. I’ll ask him to be sure to give you the lowdown.” She popped the rest of her roll in her mouth and gave a satisfied sigh. “God, Kate makes the best pastries. Dangerous for a gal like me with a sweet tooth and five more pounds of baby weight to lose.”

  Slade let his gaze roam over Amanda’s snug jeans. If she was still carrying baby weight, he liked the way it looked on her. He drew a cleansing breath, needing to refocus his thoughts, needing to get some distance from Amanda Colton if he wanted to accomplish anything today. She was too distracting with her piercing gold eyes, sexy rumpled hair and shapely curves.

  “Well,” he said, topping off his mug of coffee from the thermos, then backing toward the door. “If you need me, I’ll be checking the equipment down at the barn.”

  Of all the obstacles he’d known he’d encounter in this job, the last thing he’d expected was an inconvenient attraction to the oldest Colton daughter. He’d do well to avoid her if he wanted to find his father’s murderer in a timely manner and get back to his real job.

  * * *

  Amanda dragged herself up the stairs toward her suite, dying for a hot shower and a nap after mucking stalls and feeding stock with Cal for three hours...on top of her stint this morning with Peanut. She made a mental note to talk with Gabby and the hands about Peanut’s diet to figure out what had caused his colic. They’d need to tweak his rations or up his fiber intake to avoid problems in the future.

  “Amanda!”

  She turned when she heard Gabby call, and her younger sister hurried down the hall to meet her at the top of the stairs. “How’s Peanut?”

  Amanda smiled patiently. “The same as when you saw him an hour ago. Resting comfortably. He’ll get restricted rations today, though. Okay?”

  Gabriella visibly relaxed. “Thank you. So much. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Peanut.”

  She flashed a tired grin to her sister. “Be sure to thank the new foreman, Slade, too. He stayed up with me and assisted with administering the mineral oil. He was a real help.”

  “I will.” Gabby grinned. “So what do you think? Our new foreman is pretty hot, don’t you agree?”

  Amanda shuffled past her sister, shaking her head. “Listen to you. Aren’t you supposed to be getting married in three wee
ks?”

  Gabby tossed her red hair and flashed a coy smile. “I may have ordered already, but I can still read the menu. Besides, it was clear he only had eyes for you.”

  Amanda grunted and spread her arms, flicking a hand toward her dirty, wrinkled clothes. “Oh, right. Because I was so appealing in my sleep shirt, work jeans and bed-head hair.” She chuckled and continued toward her bedroom.

  Gabby followed. “Say what you want. I saw him checking you out.”

  Amanda’s pulse scampered. Slade was checking her out? She shoved the notion aside as preposterous. If he was sizing her up, he’d likely been appalled at the eldest Colton daughter’s appearance. Not that she cared. She had enough in her life caring for Cheyenne, serving as ranch vet and worrying about a kidnapper lurking on the ranch, waiting to steal her daughter. She had no room for a relationship.

  “Say, I’ve narrowed down the stack of applications to fill the empty housekeeping positions. I’d like your input before I select five to interview.”

  Amanda nodded, her heart heavy remembering why so many positions at Dead River Ranch were suddenly available. Murder, treachery, deceit. At least pastry chef Kate McCord, who’d be leaving all too soon with Levi, and nurse Mia Sanders, who’d resigned two months ago, had found true love amid the tumult and tragedy this past several months, so not all of the reasons for needing replacements were sad. “We need to hire new help as soon as possible. Mathilda would never complain, but I know the added work load has been difficult for her.”

  Gabby agreed, then her expression brightened some. “And if you have time later, I want to finalize the seating chart for the reception dinner.”

  Amanda’s own spirits lifted when her sister smiled. Anything having to do with her impending Christmas wedding brought a well-deserved and hard-earned joy to Gabby’s face. The middle Colton sister, Catherine, had recently married, as well, and was living in Cheyenne while her husband attended the police academy. As happy as she was for her younger sisters and the new men in their lives, Amanda couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that nipped at her. She might be surrounded by people on the ranch, but everyone else seemed to be moving on with their lives.

  She’d thought she’d found her soul mate in Cheyenne’s father, David Gill. Problem was, so had David’s wife.

  “I could use fresh eyes on the setup,” Gabriella was saying. Amanda shook off the thoughts of two-timing David Gill and focused on what Gabby explained. “I don’t need any unplanned drama at my wedding thanks to inadvertently putting Trip next to...well, any female with a pulse really.”

  Amanda snorted, acknowledging the trouble their skirt-chasing former stepbrother caused. “Why is he even invited?”

  Gabby grimaced. “How can I avoid it? I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

  Amanda tugged her sister’s hair. “You’re too nice. And yes, I’ll look at the seating chart with you. But if you want fresh eyes, you’ll have to wait until I’ve had some sleep. Right now I’m seeing double, I’m so tired.”

  Down the hall, Cheyenne’s cranky whine wafted out of the nursery, and Amanda sighed. If Cheyenne wasn’t napping, then a nap wouldn’t be on the agenda for Amanda, either. She glanced back to her sister. “Have you seen Dad today? How is he doing?”

  Gabriella sobered and said in a hushed tone, “He looks terrible and sounds worse. You were told that he’s developed pneumonia, weren’t you?”

  Amanda sighed. “Levi said pneumonia was pretty common in late-stage illness when a patient is bedridden.”

  Gabriella’s face creased with worry. “He’s so pale...and more gaunt every day. Dylan’s leaving hit him hard, especially since he didn’t tell Dad goodbye in person. He’d just gotten his firstborn back, and then he disappeared from his life again.” Gabby’s shoulders drooped. “Not that I blame Dylan for being angry with him.”

  Mention of their half-brother brought bittersweet thoughts of Amanda’s college friend, Aurora Worthington, to mind. Aurora had recently spent time at the ranch, hiding from her mob-connected ex-husband’s henchmen. Amanda had relished the opportunity to renew her friendship with Aurora, and had missed her friend terribly since Aurora entered Witness Protection with Dylan. She missed their late-night chats, missed knowing her best friend had her back no matter what. She’d love to have Aurora’s perspective on Slade Kent and borrow her ear to unburden her heart regarding her father’s failing health.

  Amanda rubbed her tired, gritty eyes, knowing she needed to visit her father before she napped. She’d put off visiting him recently because seeing the man who’d turned Dead River Ranch into a thriving business reduced to skin and bones was too difficult to bear most days. Amanda met her sister’s eyes. “Levi says Dad still has moments of lucidity, but because of the pain meds, he sleeps most of the day.”

  Gabby took Amanda’s hand, her green gaze troubled. “Levi doesn’t think Dad has too much longer. He may not even make it until the wedding.” The redhead, who looked just like pictures of their mother at her age, bit her bottom lip. “You should go see him today.”

  Amanda promised she would visit Jethro and dragged her weary bones to her suite. Cheyenne was still crying, and Tom’s expression was comically relieved when she walked in the nursery.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with her. None of the usual stuff will calm her down.” He held Cheyenne out to her mother, shaking his head.

  Amanda plucked a facial tissue from a box by the changing table. “Poor baby. I think she’s getting sick.” She wiped Cheyenne’s runny nose and tossed the tissue in the trash. “I’m going to visit my dad after I’ve had a shower. When I see Levi, I’ll ask him to stop by and check on her.” She kicked off her boots and stretched her sore back. “Will you watch her for one more hour? I need a shower, and I can’t take a sick baby into Jethro’s room.”

  Tom gave her a patient smile and squared his shoulders. “Of course, Miss Amanda. Glad to help.”

  Amanda read a lingering apology in his expression, as well. Tom still felt guilty that three months earlier an unknown assailant had nearly kidnapped Cheyenne on his watch. Never mind that the assailant had mounted a brutal surprise attack that could have killed Tom. Never mind that Amanda told Tom he was not to blame for the violent assault. Tom continued to feel he had failed both Cheyenne and Amanda that day. In recent weeks, Tom’s guard over Cheyenne had been hypervigilant, and he rarely took breaks.

  “Thanks, Tom.” Amanda carried Cheyenne into her bedroom and set her daughter on the floor to crawl while Amanda undressed. As she peeled off layers of grimy clothes, Amanda paused to stroke the soft orange fur of her Cymric Manx, Reyna. The imperious orange cat raised her head and gave Cheyenne a disdainful glare as if to say, “That one disturbs my peace and quiet.”

  “Sorry, Reyna, didn’t mean to disturb you.” Amanda laughed to herself over the haughty manner that had earned the cat the Spanish name for “Little Queen.” Amanda had rescued Reyna from an animal shelter as a kitten to live in the barn with the other ranch cats, but Reyna let it be known early on that she didn’t belong with the “commoners.” When the hands reported fights between the cats, Amanda had brought Reyna inside to live in her suite. In the years since, Amanda had enjoyed spoiling the long-haired cat and indulging the cat’s presumption she was the queen.

  Cheyenne pulled herself to her feet, using the bedspread as her support, and peered across the bed at the orange cat. A grin lit Cheyenne’s chubby face, and she loosed an excited squeal that sent Reyna scurrying for cover.

  Amanda lifted her daughter in her arms, chuckling. “You need to work on your approach, chickpea. You scared kitty.”

  Cheyenne craned her head to find the spot on the floor where Reyna had stopped to lick her ruffled fur. “Kee!”

  Amanda hugged her daughter tighter, savoring the warmth, the pure, sweet love that only Cheyenne stirred inside her. She’d witnessed
maternal love and sacrifice in the animals she cared for, but experiencing it firsthand with her own daughter was entirely unique. No love in the world was as unconditional, as honest, as unblemished as the bond she had with Cheyenne.

  And she’d do anything—even give her own life—to see that no harm came to her daughter.

  Chapter 3

  Slade exhaled deeply, his breath forming a white cloud in the December air. He turned slowly, taking in the property fence, the gate, the terrain, willing the scene to yield its secrets. Based on his preliminary research, his father had been here, standing where Slade stood now, when he’d taken the shot to the chest that killed him. Slade could almost imagine the blood stain spreading on the dry Wyoming soil.

  He stopped when he faced the fence, narrowing his eyes on the post directly behind him. A bullet-size hole was still visible on the post, and Slade crossed the fence to examine the hole more carefully. The patina of time had turned the inside of the hole the same shade of gray as the wood surrounding it. He poked his finger in the pit, and his chest tightened.

  Ten years. His father had been gone for a full decade, but the loss still sat hollowly in his soul. A senseless murder, left unsolved by crooked cops. An obvious cover-up by a family with more skeletons in their closet than in the family crypt. Slade gritted his teeth as resentment poured through him. For the next several weeks, he’d be living among the people who had, at the very least, turned their backs on his father’s murder, and, more likely, had a hand in the crime.

  What part, if any, did Amanda have in the cover-up? Ten years ago, she’d have been a teenager, old enough to understand the seriousness of having a murder happen on the ranch property. Did she have information she’d hidden from the police in order to protect her family?

  He rubbed a spot at the center of his chest out of habit, even though the gnawing ache of his heartburn was inside him. The idea that Amanda could be part of the cover-up unsettled him more than it should. An image of her licking cinnamon sugar from her fingers flashed in his memory and he sighed. He’d known plenty of women in his life who were polished and pampered, yet none of them had triggered the gut-level response from him that rumpled, makeup-free, hardworking Amanda Colton had.