Maybe Celeste Nichols and her reindeer book were rubbing off on Olivia.
“We’ll have to see. I thought you weren’t very interested in Christmas this year.”
“I guess we could do a few Christmas things,” she said slowly. “Whether we do them or not, Christmas is coming anyway.”
“True enough.” For a girl who had just turned seven, she could be remarkably wise sometimes. She was tough and courageous, he told himself. Even if she was struggling now, she would make it through this eventually.
“Is this where Celeste lives?” Olivia asked when he pulled up in front of the little house not far from the bigger Star N ranch house.
“That’s what she said. The foreman’s house.”
“Look. She has a Christmas tree, too.”
Since her family ran The Christmas Ranch, he would have been more shocked if she didn’t have one.
“I wonder if I can see her cute little dog, Linus.”
“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised,” he told her.
Olivia opened the passenger door almost before he had the SUV in Park, and she raced up the driveway without him, only limping a little. While he was still unbuckling his seat belt, she was already at the doorbell, and by the time he reached the door, Celeste had opened it and was greeting his daughter.
“Of course,” she was saying. “You can absolutely come in and meet Lucy the cat. She loves new friends.”
Apparently his daughter had invited herself inside. He rolled his eyes but followed her when Celeste held open the door for both of them.
The house wasn’t large, perhaps only eight or nine hundred square feet. The living room was decorated in a casual, comfortable style, heavy on bright colors, with lots of plump pillows and books. The Christmas tree was about the only holiday decoration, he was surprised to see.
“Nice place,” he said.
“Thanks. I just moved over a few months ago from the main house, but so far I’ve been enjoying it. I’m close enough to help out with my niece and nephew when my sister Faith needs me. At the same time, I’m far enough away from the chaos that I can write. I’ve even got my own writing space in the second bedroom.”
“It’s comfortable.”
She smiled. “I like it.”
Her furry-faced little dog scampered in from the kitchen, followed by an elegant-looking black cat, who watched them carefully from the doorway as if trying to determine whether they were friends or foes.
“Hi, Linus.” Olivia sank to the floor to pet the dog. After a moment, the cat sidled over.
“That’s Lucy,” Celeste said. “She can be a little snooty at first, but once she warms up, she’ll be your best friend. Just give her a moment.”
Sure enough, while Olivia mostly paid attention to the small dog, the cat moved closer and closer until she rubbed her head against Olivia’s leg.
“I think she likes me,” she whispered.
“I’m sure of it,” Celeste said with a smile.
“Looks as if you need to pick up a pet or two,” she said to Flynn in an undertone.
“Don’t give her any ideas,” he said in the same low voice. Their gaze met and he felt a strange jolt in his gut at the impact of those green eyes behind the glasses.
“You don’t want a little dog?”
He shrugged. When he was a kid, the only pets had been his mother’s annoying, yippy little purse pooches. He had never really thought seriously about it before, too busy with work and his shared custody of Olivia.
When things settled down for her a little, maybe he would think about it. She did seem to be enjoying Celeste’s pets.
Both he and Celeste seemed content to watch her petting the two pets, and he was aware of that elusive sense of peace seeping in again.
“How’s the house cleaning going?” she asked him.
He thought of the work still ahead. “I don’t think I realized what an undertaking it was to clear out eighty-five years of living. After about three days of work, we got one of the rooms cleared out today.”
“Good work.” She paused. “If you need help, I’m available most evenings.”
She looked embarrassed after she spoke, though he wasn’t quite sure why, when he took the offer as nothing but generous and kind, especially in the hustle-bustle of the holidays.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely.
She gazed at him for a moment, then shifted her attention back to Olivia, but not before he saw a hint of color climb her cheeks.
“What are you doing with your business in California while you’re here?”
“I’m doing as much as I can long-distance, but it hasn’t been easy. Since the shooting, I’ve basically had to trust my second-in-command to take much of the load at the sites. I’ve been handling the administrative things after Olivia goes to bed. Everyone who works for me has been great. I couldn’t ask for better people in my company, but I think we’re all ready for things to start getting back to normal after the holidays.”
She looked between him and his daughter, her expression soft. “You’re a good father, Flynn. Olivia is lucky to have you.”
“I don’t know about that,” he muttered. “A good father would have known what was going on at her mother’s house. I should have seen it. It wasn’t a stable situation for a young girl. Elise had boyfriend after boyfriend traipsing in and out of their lives, all tabloid fodder. Brandon Lowell at least had stuck around for longer than a few months. I was stupidly grateful for that, but if I had been paying more attention, I would have seen his downward spiral. Maybe I could have stepped in earlier.”
“What would you have done?”
“I don’t know. Found him the help he needed, at the very least. Maybe filed for an emergency custody order so we could have avoided all this trauma and pain.” The nightmare of the shooting was as vivid and stark as if it had happened the day before. “Elise called me right before it all went south.”
“She did?”
He checked to be sure Olivia wasn’t paying attention to them but to the animals before he continued. “She told me Brandon had been drinking all day and was acting strangely. She was worried about him, but she didn’t sound panicked or anything, was just calling to ask my advice. She’d done this before, called me for advice when he was drinking too much or having a manic episode, but something told me this time was different. I was on a job site fifty miles away, so I told her to grab Olivia and take her to my house, and I would deal with the situation when I got back.”
He was quiet, regret a harsh companion. “I wish to hell she had listened to me. She was always so stubborn, thinking she knew best. I was about five miles from her place when I got the call from the police. I’ll never forget that instant when it felt as if the whole world changed.”
Chapter Five
She couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through, knowing his daughter had been hurt. She also could tell by the threads of guilt twining through his voice that he blamed himself for not being able to control the situation and keep his daughter safe.
“What happened wasn’t your fault,” she murmured.
“Wasn’t it?” he asked, the words clipped.
Unable to resist the need to offer him comfort, she reached out her hand and rested it softly on his.
She completely understood where he was coming from. She knew all about that crushing weight of responsibility.
In that last panicked rush toward the helicopter and the navy SEALs, she had been terrified as usual. She had hesitated, frozen in fear. Her father had paused to go back for her and shoved her in front of him, pushing her forward with his usual words of encouragement as they had raced to safety.
He had thrust her into the helicopter ahead of him, but her split second of fear had had a terrible cost. Her father had been shot j
ust before he would have been able to make it to safety.
If she hadn’t been so afraid, if she had started to run when he had first told her to go, maybe her father would still be with them now.
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we were all given one do-over in life?” she murmured. “One free pass to go back and change one action, one decision, one thoughtless word?”
He gave her a searching look, as if trying to figure out what moment she would alter. Finally he nodded. “One would be a start, I suppose, though I probably could use about a half dozen free passes.”
“Instead, we have to do our best to live with the consequences of our choices.”
“Not an easy task, is it?”
No. She had been trying for nearly twenty years.
He flexed his hand and she realized with great chagrin that she was still touching him. She pulled her fingers back quickly, her skin still tingling from the heat of him.
After an awkward moment, he turned to his daughter.
“Olivia, we should probably take off or someone else will eat our delicious pizza.”
“We haven’t ordered it yet,” she said with a concerned frown. “Do you think they’ll run out?”
“I was just teasing. But we really should go.”
“Okay,” she said reluctantly. She rubbed noses with Linus and petted Lucy one last time, then stood up.
She might have been mistaken, but Celeste thought she seemed to be moving better, even than a few days before.
Flynn drove a luxury SUV that smelled of expensive leather with hints of his woodsy, intoxicating aftershave. As he drove to the pizza place in town, she and Olivia talked about the books the girl had checked out of the library and about her schoolwork and her home in California.
He seemed content to listen, though once or twice she caught him giving her a sidelong glance, no doubt trying to figure out how he had gotten saddled spending the evening with the boring children’s librarian.
Monday night was family night at the Rocky Mountain Pizza Company—The Rock, as they called it in town. From the outside it looked as though the place was hopping.
This was one of the more family-friendly hangouts in Pine Gulch. Though it had a pool table in the back room, it also featured foosball and air hockey tables, as well as a few vintage video games like Ms. PAC-MAN and pinball.
Celeste came here about once a month, either with her sister or with friends. Usually she enjoyed the delicious wood-fired pizza and the comfortable, familiar atmosphere. The scent alone—garlic and yeast and a fabulous red sauce—made her stomach rumble.
On the heels of that first sensory overload, though, Celeste became aware that people were looking with curiosity at her and her companions.
She saw the police chief, Trace Bowman, and his wife, Becca, at one table with their children. In the next booth were Nate Cavazos and his wife, Emery, one of her good friends. Emery and Becca both looked intrigued.
For a wild moment, she wished she had refused the invitation from Olivia—or that she had persuaded Flynn to take them all the way to Jackson Hole or even Idaho Falls, somewhere far away from Pine Gulch where people didn’t know her.
Instead, she squared her shoulders, waved at her friends and did her best to ignore their speculative looks.
“Hi, Celeste,” Natalie Dalton, the hostess chirped the greeting while looking at Flynn and Olivia with curiosity.
She used to babysit for Nat and her siblings. “Hi, Natalie. Great to see you. I miss seeing you at the library these days.”
“I still come in, though mostly at night for study groups. I just don’t have much reason to hit the children’s section anymore unless I’ve got one of the little ones with me.”
Her father and stepmother had two children together, in addition to the four Wade Dalton had had with his first wife, who had died tragically in childbirth.
Natalie turned her attention to Olivia and Flynn. “Hi, there. Welcome to The Rock. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Natalie.”
Celeste felt as though she had the manners of a dried-up turnip right now. “Sorry. This is Flynn Delaney and his daughter, Olivia.”
She smiled at them both. “Hi, Olivia. Hi, Flynn.”
“We’re here celebrating a certain young lady’s seventh birthday today,” Celeste said.
“Happy birthday!” Natalie exclaimed, beaming at her and holding her hand out for a fist bump.
“Thank you,” Olivia said. She didn’t meet her eye, and though she raised her hand halfheartedly to bump Nat’s, she quickly lowered it again and looked at the floor.
What had happened to the animated birthday girl who had chattered in the car about her favorite Jan Brett Christmas book? Now she seemed nervous and uneasy, as if she wanted to be anywhere else in the world than the best pizza place in the entire region.
Celeste placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. When she’d first arrived in Pine Gulch after their Colombian ordeal, it had taken her a long time before she could completely relax in public places like this. She imagined Olivia was feeling the same way.
“I’ve got the perfect table for a birthday girl,” Natalie said, her cheerfulness undeterred by Olivia’s reticence. “Follow me, guys.”
Indeed, she led them to an excellent table overlooking the Christmas lights on Main Street. From here, they even could see the fun display in the window of the local toy store.
“Thanks,” Flynn murmured. Olivia slid into the booth first and Flynn went in after her. Celeste slid across from them.
“What’s good here?” Flynn asked, scanning one of the menus Natalie left them.
“Everything,” she answered honestly. “The pizza, the pasta, the sandwiches. You can’t go wrong.”
“I wanted pizza,” Olivia said, her voice still small.
“Pizza it is,” Flynn said. “Why don’t we order three personal size? Then everybody can choose the toppings they like.”
“The personal size is usually huge,” she told him. “At least enough for two people.”
“That’s okay. Pizza leftovers are one of the true joys in life, right?”
When he smiled, she thought he should have been the movie star in the family instead of his mother and former wife. He would break hearts all over the world with those completely natural good looks.
Her stomach jumped all over the place again. Oh, this crush was so embarrassing. She would be lucky if she could eat any pizza at all.
At least she was able to talk casually when he asked her to help him choose between pizza selections. A few moments later the server, Lucy Boyer—Natalie’s cousin—headed over to take their order.
She beamed when she spotted Celeste. “Hey, Ms. N. How are things?”
“Great, Lucy. How are you?”
“Can’t complain. I’m working on my college essays and it’s such a pain. You probably love that kind of thing, since you’re a genius author and all. You might not know this, but for some people writing is hard.”
She didn’t want to burst that particular fantasy by telling her the truth, that sometimes every single word was a struggle.
“Hey, what’s this I hear about a Sparkle movie in the works?”
How on earth did rumors spread like that? She hadn’t made her final decision yet, though she knew she couldn’t wait much longer.
“A movie?” Olivia exclaimed. “Really?”
For some reason, Flynn’s easy expression had tightened, and he was gazing at her with his brow furrowed.
“I don’t know yet. Possibly.” Probably.
She still wasn’t sure she wanted to see her baby on the big screen, but at this point she didn’t know how to stop that particular train.
“That’s seriously cool. I’ll be the first in line to buy tickets. That’s such a great story.�
�
“It’s my favorite, too,” Olivia said.
“Cool! I heard from a little squirrel that you’ve got a birthday today.”
Olivia nodded. She looked as though she was torn between withdrawing into herself to hide from the attention and any kid’s natural excitement about being the star of the day.
“We’ll make sure your pizza is perfect, then. What kind do you want?”
Olivia ordered cheese, which Lucy assured them would come with a special birthday surprise. Celeste picked her favorite, margherita, which came with fresh basil and the hand-pulled mozzarella The Rock was famous for, and Flynn went for the meat lover’s delight.
After she left, Flynn picked up the conversation.
“A movie?” he asked.
“We’re in talks,” she answered. “It’s a terrifying proposition, to be honest.”
“Will the real Sparkle be in the movie?” Olivia asked.
Celeste smiled. “It’s going to be animated, so no.”
She and the little girl started talking about their favorite holiday films—Olivia’s was Elf, while Celeste still favored It’s A Wonderful Life.
In no time, their pizza arrived. Olivia’s surprise was that her pizza was shaped like a Christmas tree.
The pizza was every bit as good as usual, cooked just right in the wood-fired oven.
Flynn apparently agreed. “Wow,” he said after the first bite. “That’s a good pie. If I’d known how good, we would have been eating here every night since we came to town.”
“Doug and Jacinda DeMarco, the owners, are big on the artisan pizza scene. They make their own mozzarella and burrata and try to use locally sourced produce and meats wherever they can. They have an extensive greenhouse where they grow their own fresh herbs and vegetables year-round. It’s quite an operation.”
“Who would have thought I could find such a good pizza in the wilds of eastern Idaho?”
A Cold Creek Christmas Story Page 6
