by Judith Bowen
When Zoey saw Lissy sitting on his knee, telling him seriously about the gifts she wanted—a Christmas Barbie, some colored chalk, a new book bag and a picture frame with seashells she’d seen in a catalogue—she was deeply moved. She was sure Lissy didn’t have a clue that she was actually sitting on her father’s knee.
While Zoey busied herself helping Elizabeth serve the children’s meal, Santa disappeared back into the pantry, where, she presumed, he’d be getting rid of the Santa suit and slipping out the back door to do whatever he’d originally planned to do until the adult party started at nine.
This was a new, surprising, side to Cameron Donnelly. A generous side. Spontaneous, even. Whatever else happened, she and Lizzie could relax now.
It was true: Christmas really was for kids.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
RYAN ARRIVED about half an hour after most of the guests, accompanied by Mary Ellen, Edith and Tom Bennett, her fiancé, whom Zoey had met briefly the previous week. Cameron returned about the same time and came in the door accompanied by a man, a stranger to Zoey, and Sara Rundle.
When they entered the room, Zoey was dancing with the mayor. She was thrilled that Ryan came straight over to her and greeted her with a kiss, as he did the mayor’s wife.
“Mind if I cut in? You’re dancin’ with my old girl friend here.”
The mayor bowed out gracefully and sat down with his wife. The band Elizabeth had hired, a four-piece that played everything from forties swing to Ricky Martin, had struck up a fifties jive tune.
Zoey eyed Ryan skeptically. “You want to?” She was a good dancer, and knew most younger men weren’t, outside of the usual rock-and-roll gyrations.
“I’m game if you are.” Ryan grinned confidently. He looked terrific in a blue cotton sweater and dark-gray dress pants. “You’re next, babe!” he called over to Mary Ellen, who stood with her stepmother in the small circle that had gathered around the tiny dance floor.
Mary Ellen waved. Usually dressed casually, she looked sophisticated in a black, glittery skirt and wrap-over top. Edith, wearing pale pink, sat placidly in her wheelchair, looking on.
Zoey wondered if Edith ever found it depressing to see able-bodied people having fun when her own limbs so rarely cooperated anymore. According to Mary Ellen, Edith’s doctor had arranged for surgery in Vancouver early in the new year. There was a small chance that she could regain some use of her lower limbs before the disease progressed any further.
Zoey realized right away that Ryan knew all the moves. Even better, he had that charming, devil-may-care attitude that made dancing with a superb partner so much fun. When the number ended, there was a brisk round of applause from the audience and Ryan swung her off her feet. The crowd laughed. Zoey noticed Cameron standing to one side, near the door, watching. His look gave her goose bumps. Surely he approved. Wasn’t this exactly what he wanted—a romance between her and his brother?
Zoey took a grateful gulp of the drink Mary Ellen gave her and put her free arm around her friend’s shoulder. “Plain soda, good. I’m driving tonight, so no Christmas cheer for me. Where have you been these days?”
Mary Ellen shot a quick glance toward her stepmother and drew Zoey off to one side. “Shopping. Getting some last-minute stuff done. Arranging for the flowers. You know, I don’t think Edith’s guessed yet, if you can believe it!” Mary Ellen’s eyes danced.
“I hope not,” Zoey said, hugging Mary Ellen again. “The test cake turned out great, by the way. All I have to do now is keep my fingers crossed when I make the real one. No disasters, please!” She rolled her eyes.
“I know you’ll do a super job, Zoe.” Mary Ellen impulsively leaned forward and kissed her. “Don’t forget, I’ve tasted your Call-a-Girl cakes.”
“Well, better wait until you see the final result,” Zoey teased. She’d rarely seen Mary Ellen look so animated. So…happy.
“I’d better go give Elizabeth a hand. You dance with Ryan.” She’d seen the Nugents waltzing earlier and had just spotted Elizabeth hurrying in with a plateful of hot hors d’oeuvres. The party was catered, but it was just like Elizabeth to get involved.
On her way to the kitchen, she noticed Sara Rundle in the arms of the stranger who had arrived with her and Cameron. Where was he, anyway? If he didn’t watch out, some other man was going to beat him to first base with the glamorous widow.
Elizabeth was in the kitchen, poking through the fridge. “Oh, Zoey! I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t want to interrupt you when you were having such fun. Dancing with a certain someone, I noticed….”
She gave Zoey an arch look and passed her a platter of vegetable strips. “Where did that girl from the caterer’s get to? Honestly! Could you take this out for me? How’s the party going, do you think?” Elizabeth seemed a little flustered.
“Wonderful.” Zoey plucked a broccoli floweret off the tray and drowned its perfect little green head in ranch dip. “A great party, Lizzie.”
When she’d delivered her tray, the mayor asked her to dance again and so did Jeff Somebody-or-other. Arthur danced with her once, and Tom Bennett led her through an old-fashioned waltz. As Elizabeth had suspected, he was an excellent dancer. She was rather surprised Cameron didn’t ask her to dance, at least once, if only to be polite.
Ryan brought them all fresh drinks and Zoey sat down for a few minutes to talk to Edith. She realized she hadn’t seen Cameron for a while and ventured a query when Ryan returned.
“Cam? I saw him on his cell a while ago.” Ryan chose a deviled egg from a nearby plate. “Maybe he’s gone over to the Robbins place. Cam’s got a half-interest in a mare over there that’s due to foal anyday now, and he told me the vet thought there might be problems.” He stuffed the egg half into his mouth and chewed. “Leave it to my brother to run out of a party to go sit up all night with a horse! Why?”
“Oh, just wondering,” Zoey said mysteriously. “I see he’s left his date….”
“Who’s that?” Ryan swung around to look in the direction she’d indicated. “Sara? That’s Spence Rinaldo with her. They came together and I heard they’ve been seeing quite a bit of each other lately.” Ryan laughed. “I think old Cam’s out of the picture. Cost me fifty bucks, too. Why? You got your eye on him?” He winked outrageously.
“No!” It came out louder than she’d intended. Why wouldn’t Ryan get it through his thick head that she wanted him, not his brother? What kind of earth-shaking event was necessary before he’d take her seriously? He danced with her, he kissed her, he hugged her—although, of course, he hugged everyone. It was maddening!
She thought, and so had Elizabeth, that if he saw her in a sophisticated outfit, he’d forget any notion that Zoey was just a good friend from the past, that they’d been pals and could be pals again. Well, here she was, looking her best, and he still treated her like a pal.
She decided to ask him. Why not? She hadn’t succeeded in life so far by sitting back and acting like a wallflower. No, the thing was to take charge. She felt their relationship was stuck; something had to jolt it out of the rut.
She’d start by inviting him to dance.
“Ry?” She smiled seductively and beckoned him with one long Hollyberries-painted nail. “Let’s dance.”
“Sure.” He took her in his arms and grinned. “Hey, this is nice. No reason the gals can’t ask the guys, right?”
“No.” She moved closer to him and felt his arm tighten around her back. It was a slow two-step. Almost romantic.
“I’ve got something I’d like to say to you, Ryan.”
“Hmm?”
She deliberately pressed a little closer. He couldn’t miss that. His eyes widened fractionally. “Hey, hey, hey.”
“Remember the spring before grad?”
He laughed easily. “Sure do.”
“I used to be pretty crazy about you. I guess you knew that.”
“You were?” He looked directly at her. Surely, this was no surprise!
“Of course I was. I wa
s crazy about you, back when you wanted to date Adele. I was so jealous of her!”
Ryan’s face darkened. “We were going to get married once, you know. It didn’t work out.”
“Elizabeth told me,” she said softly. “I hope you don’t mind….”
“Hell, no! It’s no secret. Besides—” he shrugged his shoulders “—that was a long time ago. I got over her pretty fast. Puppy love,” he added dismissively.
“I’m glad to hear that,” she said. Puppy love.
Ryan held her gaze. “That was then,” he said, with a grin. “This is now. Times change.” He pulled her into an intricate turn and for a few seconds, Zoey had to pay attention.
“I—I don’t think it was really puppy love for me,” she managed, when she got her breath back, trying to keep the conversation on track.
“You were only seventeen! So was I.” Ryan nodded at the mayor, who was dancing with his wife and had bumped into them and apologized. “We were just kids.”
How could this man she was prepared to love with all her heart be so dense? Zoey raised her head and kissed him softly on the mouth. He kissed her back briefly, his eyes tender. Either he felt something for her or he was a damned good flirt.
“You know, I never should’ve taken advantage of you like that,” he said, suddenly earnest. “It wasn’t right, using you to make Adele jealous.”
“Hey, we were only seventeen,” she said, reminding him of his own words. “Kids do stupid things. You think it can happen again?”
“What?” He seemed truly mystified.
“You know, young love?” She held eye contact with him. “Can it be revived? Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and all that?”
“Yeah, sure it can.” He held her tight for a moment and kissed her quickly on the mouth. “Merry Christmas, baby. Listen, I want to talk to you, but this isn’t the time or place.” He put his forefinger on her nose, an endearing gesture. “Later, when I get back to the ranch,” he whispered. “Maybe tomorrow?”
Well, it wasn’t exactly a declaration of undying love, but now Zoey was curious. What did he want to discuss? She could only guess. And hope.
Ryan was silent for the last few minutes of the dance, and when he led her off the floor, he leaned toward her. “The fact is, I’ve been thinking about the same thing you mentioned, Zoey. Young love. I haven’t thought of much else since you and Mary Ellen came back to Stoney Creek.”
And?
Ryan had already bowed grandly to their mutual friend. “You’re next,” he said, escorting Mary Ellen onto the dance floor.
Zoey stood by Edith’s chair, sipping her lemonade, watching them. “Such a good man, isn’t he?” Edith murmured. “So kind. So thoughtful. So—” she glanced up at Zoey, her eyes twinkling “—handsome.”
“Yes,” Zoey returned, watching him try to cajole Mary Ellen into a polka. He seemed to be succeeding. He is thoughtful.
She brought out some more snacks for Lizzie, then checked her watch. Ryan was taking Marty—who was visiting a friend for the evening—to Prince George to catch her red-eye flight to Kelowna. They planned to leave at eleven. Mary Ellen was going home with Tom and Edith, and Edith had already said she’d like to leave early. Once they left, Zoey thought, the party would be over for her, too.
Finally, after she’d helped Lizzie brew some coffee and set out plates of sweets at eleven-thirty, Zoey left, too.
She drove home slowly. It had started to snow again, and the landscape was ghostly and still in the glimpses she had from her headlights. The night was pitch dark, since it was close to the winter solstice, the bleakest time of the year. On top of that, the stars were hidden by snow clouds.
Lucky for her, after all, that she’d brought her own transport. Cameron hadn’t shown up again. So much for offering to take her home from the party.
She had a headache and her sinuses felt tight and scratchy. That was all she needed, a cold. Nothing like a stuffed-up nose and red eyes to look really appealing when you had romance on your mind.
The ranch house and buildings were deserted when she drove into the yard. Although the yard lights were on, the house was dark, almost hidden behind its snow-laden shrubbery and landscaping. So was her little apartment over the garage, and Zoey was suddenly struck by an enormous sense of loneliness and isolation. She had a heart-stopping sense of just how huge and empty this great Canadian landscape was, how many lonely miles stretched between her and other people. She wished she’d left on a small welcome-home light.
Of course, the ranch house would be dark, she told herself. Marty was away, Lissy was at a sleepover, Cameron was somewhere delivering a foal—how long did they take to be born? Probably hours and hours. Ryan was being the dutiful nephew, taking Marty to Prince George. He’d told her he planned to stay there for the night.
So she really was the only person out here at the Triple Oarlock. Not counting the dubious presence of Gabe, who was probably snoring in the bunkhouse or wherever he lived. She could hardly go down and rouse him for a cup of hot chocolate and a game of cribbage, just to have some company. Besides, he’d run like a deer, if past experience was anything to judge by.
The apartment was warm and once she turned on some lights, she felt quite differently. The Chinchilla manuscript, nearly completed, awaited her but she’d leave that until morning. She wanted to put clean sheets on the bed, which was something to busy herself with once she got out of her party garb and while she waited for the kettle to boil.
She hung the slinky purple velvet dress carefully on its padded hanger, then grabbed a handful of the fabric and crushed it between her fingers. So soft. A truly gorgeous dress. She knew it suited her perfectly—her coloring and her spirit. Had Ryan thought so? Or had he still seen her in jeans and T-shirts?
She sighed as she prepared her cup of chamomile tea. It was hard to tell. Sometimes she wished she had the nerve to out-and-out seduce him—and if he didn’t go for it, she’d know, wouldn’t she? At least he’d get the message she wanted him to get.
Her head was spinning. Plus feeling thick and fuzzy. Arrgh! She took a quick shower and then went to bed with another cup of chamomile tea. She looked forward to curling up with the novel she’d started reading, a new Barbara Kingsolver. It wasn’t that late, only a little past midnight. But she couldn’t concentrate on the novel. She kept thinking back to the party, kept seeing Ryan’s handsome, teasing face. Elizabeth’s tears when the Santa man had arrived drunk before the children’s party. Cameron’s dismay when she’d begged him to fill in. Mary Ellen’s glow. If Zoey didn’t know better, she’d think Mary Ellen was the woman in love, not Edith.
Zoey shut off the light. Sweet dreams, she told herself, cuddling down into the quilt. She didn’t know how late it was when she woke up, chilled to the bone and disoriented. When she turned on her bedside lamp, nothing happened. Damn! The electricity was off again. She peered through the curtains toward the ranch house. No sign of life. Of course, who was coming home. Probably no one.
She got up. The floor was icy. How long had the heat been off? She pulled the quilt off her bed and tucked it around her shoulders and went to look for the candles. She swore when she shut the drawer on her thumb.
This was ridiculous! She’d go up and sleep at the house. They never locked their door and, besides, no one was there. Hadn’t Ryan said that she should come up to the house if the electricity went off? If it got too cold in her apartment? That he had lots of room in his bed?
Well, ironically, she would do just that. Only, he wouldn’t be in his bed. He was spending the night in Prince George. At least she knew where his room was. He’d told her. And hadn’t Lissy told her, too, when she’d given her a bath once—second from the end of the hall?
Zoey pulled her jacket over her flannel pajamas, shivering as she shoved her bare feet into her new boots and draped the quilt around her shoulders for the dash across the yard.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HE WAS BONE-TIRED when he finally drove into th
e yard. Damn yard lights were out again, which meant the electricity was off. The business really ought to invest in a generator; they could well afford it. These power outages, three or four times a year, were aggravating but for some reason, they kept putting up with them.
No sign of the other vehicles, except Zoey’s. Well, no surprise there. He wasn’t sure why he’d bothered to drive all the way back tonight. He could just as easily have stayed over.
Reggie, the oldest of the dogs and still the most alert, came out to the driveway to wag his scruffy tail as the headlights lit up the side of the house.
Good old boy, he thought, stooping down swiftly to pat the aging dog’s head and scratch him under the chin. The animal yawned and licked his face, then followed him to the side entrance.
He wiped his face with the back of his hand. Oh, well, he needed a shower anyway before he hit the sack. He’d been too busy for too long. This month had been crazy. Too many trips this week, too much on his mind.
He stamped the snow off his boots and felt his way into the mudroom, accidentally kicking over something in the middle of the floor—he had no idea what. He pulled off his boots, then heard a faint mewing. Lissy’s cat! He felt around his feet and there it was, soft and still so scrawny and small. Was this cat ever going to grow up? At least they knew it was a “he” now.
He put the cat down and edged into the hall, sliding on stocking feet so he didn’t accidentally step on the kitten, which could be anywhere. Lissy’d never forgive him if anything happened to that cat. It was black as the bottom of a well in here, with only the glow from the pilot light of the furnace, at the end of the hall. Furnace wasn’t much good without the fan. It’d be cold in the morning, but at least they had oil heat, not electricity.
Third door down, bathroom. No problem.
He stripped and stepped thankfully into the stream of hot water. The hot water system was electric but the water was still good and hot. Power couldn’t have gone out more than an hour or two ago. Idly, he wondered if any of his neighbors had phoned in the outage. He’d call if it wasn’t fixed by morning.
