A Maverick Under The Mistletoe

by Brenda Harlen

  Ellie had always liked the young schoolteacher. Even when Paige and Sutter were in high school together, she’d thought that they were well suited. Paige had spent a lot of time at the Triple T back then—so much that Ellie had begun to think of her as part of the family. In fact, she’d been certain that Paige would be her daughter-in-law someday. And then Sutter had left town and broken Paige’s heart.

  She’d come to the ranch tonight—ostensibly to congratulate Collin, but Ellie hadn’t missed the looks that had passed between Paige and Sutter, or the crackle in the air whenever they stood close to one another. Whatever had been between them clearly wasn’t over—but was it enough to keep her son in Rust Creek Falls?

  “I thought that once the election was over you’d stop pacing the bedroom floor at midnight,” Bob said.

  Ellie froze. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”

  Because it was obvious that something was, she replied without hesitation, “Sutter.”

  “You’re worried that he’s going to go back to Seattle now,” he guessed, shifting so that he was sitting up in bed, leaning back against the headboard.

  She nodded.

  “He’s a grown man—he has to make his own choices.”

  “I understand why he left—and I know we bear some responsibility for that, for letting him think that our decision to support Forrest meant we didn’t support him. But I didn’t think he’d stay away for so long.”

  “He’s built a life and a career for himself in Seattle.”

  She lowered herself onto the edge of the mattress. “I want him to come home.”

  “He came home when we needed him,” Bob pointed out.

  “I want him to stay,” she insisted stubbornly.

  He lifted a hand and gently brushed her hair away from her face. “I want that, too, but it’s what Sutter wants that matters.”

  “I think he’d stay this time, if Paige asked him to.”

  Bob sighed. “Ellie.”

  “I know she’s been dating the mill foreman, but even a blind person could see that there are still sparks between her and Sutter.”

  “I know you like Paige and that you’d like nothing better for them to get back together, but you have to let them live their own lives.”

  “Did you see them together tonight?”

  “Yes, I saw them. But they’re not together anymore,” he reminded her.

  “He still loves her.”

  “Did he tell you that?”

  “As if he would.”

  “Then let it be,” he suggested.

  She folded her arms over her chest.

  He smiled and leaned forward to brush his lips against hers. “I love you, Ellie.”

  Even now, after forty years of marriage, his kiss warmed her inside. And when he eased her back onto the mattress, she didn’t protest.

  “I love you, too,” she told him. “And I love the life we have together, so why is it wrong to want the same happiness for my children?”

  He settled her head onto his shoulder and held her close. “It’s not wrong to want it—it’s only wrong if you try to manipulate it.”

  She sighed softly. “I’m not trying to manipulate, just to…nurture the possibility.”

  “Right now, you should try to go to sleep,” he suggested.

  She closed her eyes and followed his advice.

  * * *

  The flowers confused her.

  Paige scowled at the gorgeous bouquet of yellow and orange gerbera daisies on her dining room table and tried to figure out what they were supposed to mean. Not their symbolic meaning, but why Sutter had sent them. The brief message on the card—“Thanks for always having my back, S.”—was an echo of what he’d said to her the night before, so the flowers were redundant. Beautiful but redundant.

  So why had he sent them? Was it because of the kiss? It had been one kiss—a simple and inconsequential meeting of their lips. Okay, the fact that she’d tossed and turned through most of the night suggested that it might not have been quite as inconsequential as she wanted to believe. Still, it was only one kiss.

  But it was a kiss that made her want more.

  She turned her back on the flowers and returned to the lesson she’d been teaching before the ring of the bell had interrupted. Of course, she should have realized that the delivery would not go unnoticed. And she should have expected that her class of fifth graders would be more interested in the flowers than the chapter of the book she’d instructed them to read and summarize.

  As soon as she returned to the living room and asked if there were any questions, Allyson’s hand shot into the air.

  “Who are the flowers from?”

  “A friend,” she said, because it seemed the simplest if not necessarily the most accurate response.

  “Your boyfriend?” Emma asked, not bothering to put her hand in the air.

  “No, just a friend.”

  “A boy friend or a girl friend?” Becky wanted to know.

  Paige drew in a breath and mentally counted to ten. “Let’s forget about the flowers and concentrate on chapter three for the next twenty minutes,” she suggested. “Now, who can tell me what it was about mules that made them ideal for working in the coal mines?”

  David, one of the more focused students in her class, raised his hand. “Because they were sure-footed and strong.”

  “That’s right,” she agreed. “Anything else?”

  His attention dropped back to the book, and his classmates followed suit, looking for the answers to her questions in the passage they’d read.

  Paige exhaled slowly, confident that her students were back on track.

  The rest of the day went fairly smoothly—until her sisters stopped by after dinner.

  Paige was just washing up the dishes when she heard the cursory knock at the back door before Lani and Lindsay walked in.

  “Mom sent leftover meat loaf,” Lindsay said.

  “Thanks.” Paige took the container from her sister and put it in the fridge. There was no point in reminding her mother that she’d been living on her own for almost two years now—it wouldn’t stop Mary from sending food, just like her repeated assertion that she didn’t like meat loaf hadn’t stopped her mother from trying to get her to eat it.

  “Is that the only reason you stopped by—to perform your assigned meals-on-wheels duty?”

  “No. We’re actually heading out for movie night and thought you might want to come with us,” Lani told her.

  There wasn’t an actual movie theater in Rust Creek Falls, but every Friday night was movie night in the high school auditorium. Of course, they were never new releases. Sometimes they were recent movies, but more often they were classic films or family favorites.

  “What’s playing?”

  Lani named the film, and although it was one of Paige’s favorites, she shook her head. “I’ve seen it at least a dozen times.”

  Lindsay shrugged. “So have we, but it happens to be what’s playing tonight.”

  “I’d rather stay home and mark spelling tests.” She folded her towel and draped it over the handle of the oven.

  When she moved away, Lani spotted the flowers.

  “Well, well… Does this mean you’ve finally taken your relationship with Alex to the next level?” she teased her sister.

  “Only you would equate a simple bunch of flowers with sex.”

  “Actually, I’d hope for something a little fancier than daisies after sex.”

  Lindsay frowned at the bouquet. “Didn’t Sutter always give you gerberas?”

  He had, because he knew that they were Paige’s favorites. Not as elegant as lilies or as fancy as roses, but simple and beautiful.

  Before she could say anything, Lani reached forward to snag the card that she’d tucked in with the blooms, and Paige silently cursed herself for not tearing it into pieces and tossing it into the trash.

  “These are from Sutter,” she sa
id accusingly, then turned to Paige, her hands fisted on her hips. “Why is Sutter Traub sending you flowers?”

  “I don’t know,” Paige insisted, though the guilty flush that swept her cheeks certainly suggested otherwise. “Maybe because I told him that I would vote for Collin and Collin won the election.”

  “I voted for Collin, too,” Lindsay said. “I didn’t get any flowers.”

  “So did I,” Lani noted. “And I don’t believe for a minute that the new mayor’s brother sent flowers to thank you for marking an X on a ballot, so spill.”

  “There’s nothing to spill,” Paige said.

  “We’re your sisters.” Lindsay’s tone was more persuasive than demanding. “You can tell us anything.”

  “If there was anything to tell, I would,” Paige assured her. “But there is nothing to tell.”

  “How about the fact that you were at the Triple T last night?” Lani challenged.

  She frowned. “How do you know that?”

  “I saw Ellie at the library this afternoon, and she commented about how pleased she was that you went by to congratulate Collin last night.”

  “Yes, I went to the Triple T to congratulate Collin last night.”

  “And of course Sutter, as Collin’s campaign manager, would have been there, too,” Lani noted.

  “Yes,” she said again. “Sutter was there.”

  “And?” Lindsay prompted.

  “And we talked a little—mostly about Collin’s plans for Rust Creek Falls.”

  “Mostly,” Lani said, zeroing in on that single word. “Which means that you talked about other things, too.”

  Paige sighed. “The weather, because it was cold and starting to snow.”

  “Just like the first night Sutter kissed you, when you were in high school,” Lindsay remembered.

  She rolled her eyes. “And you wonder why I don’t tell you anything?”

  “So there is something you aren’t telling us,” Lani decided.

  “You don’t have to tell us,” Lindsay said. “But it’s obvious that Sutter has somehow managed to get under your skin again.”

  “He hasn’t,” she denied, though not very convincingly.

  Lindsay touched her hand. “You were in love with him once,” she reminded her gently.

  Paige just nodded.

  “And he stomped all over your heart,” Lani said, her tone not at all gentle.

  “Thanks for the reminder,” Paige said drily. “I’d almost forgotten that part.”

  “Sorry,” Lani said, not sounding sorry at all. “I just want to make sure you don’t forget—and that you don’t give him a chance to do it again.”

  “No worries there,” Paige assured her. “Now that the election’s over, I don’t think he’ll be hanging around Rust Creek Falls too much longer.”

  Lindsay cast another worried glance at the vase filled with flowers. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  “Why do you say that?” Lani demanded.

  “Because I can and do hate Sutter for what he did to Paige, but he was never the type of guy to play fast and loose with a girl’s heart. These flowers—Paige’s favorite flowers—make me think that he’s not over our big sister.”

  “I don’t care if he is or isn’t, as long as he goes back to Seattle,” Lani said.

  “I appreciate your concern,” Paige said to her sisters. “But there’s really no need for it. My heart is completely Sutter proofed now.”

  * * *

  Even if Sutter had heard Paige’s proclamation, he wouldn’t have been dissuaded. And he wouldn’t have believed it, anyway. Because when they’d kissed the night before, he’d felt the connection, as strong and undeniable as it had been five years earlier.

  And that was why he was at her door at eight o’clock on Friday night. He’d tried calling first—in fact, he’d called several times during the day. He knew that she was home because she was teaching, and he could understand why she wouldn’t want to interrupt a lesson to answer the phone. Still, he didn’t understand why she hadn’t found five minutes in the several hours that had passed since her students went home to return his call.

  He knew it was possible—even probable—that she might be out with Alex Monroe. Or that he might be at her house again. It was a chance he was willing to take. He wasn’t willing to let Paige pretend he didn’t exist any longer. But he was relieved when he saw that only her car was in the driveway.

  She opened the door in response to his knock, but she didn’t look happy to see him.

  “What are you doing here, Sutter?”

  He held up the plastic-wrapped plate. “I brought celebration cake.”

  She eyed the plate warily. “Why?”

  “Because my mom’s cheesecake used to be your favorite.”

  The wariness was replaced by interest. “That’s your mom’s mile-high cherry cheesecake?”

  “As if I would show up here with any kind of imitation.”

  “Are you going to hand it over or do I have to invite you inside?”

  “An invitation would be nice,” he told her.

  She stepped away from the door.

  “And a cup of coffee would be even nicer.”

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “How could I possibly say no to such a gracious offer?”

  Her lips curved just a little as she led the way to the kitchen.

  He glanced around the room, noted the glossy white cabinets, deep blue backsplash, granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances. Instead of a kitchen table there was an island, with four stools set up in counter-style seating. He spotted the bouquet of daisies tucked in the back corner of the counter by the refrigerator.

  “I see you got the flowers.”

  “They’re beautiful,” she acknowledged with more than a hint of reluctance in her tone. “But they really weren’t necessary.”

  “I know they weren’t necessary, but I wanted to give you flowers.”

  “Why?” She measured out coffee grounds, dumped them into the paper filter.

  “Do I need a reason?”

  She poured water into the reservoir. “You need to understand that what happened last night shouldn’t have happened, and that it won’t happen again.”

  He smiled. “‘What happened last night’ makes it sound like it was a much bigger thing than it was.”

  “It wasn’t a big thing at all—it was just a kiss.”

  “So why are you so bent out of shape over a bunch of daisies?”

  “I’m not,” she immediately denied, then huffed out a breath. “Okay, maybe I am.”

  “Then maybe you need to figure out why.”

  “Because our relationship was over five years ago. Because the flowers were delivered while I was in the middle of a lesson with my class. Because my sisters were here earlier and demanded to know why you were sending me flowers.” She ticked the reasons off on her fingers as she enumerated them, then she looked at him. “I think any of those reasons would suffice, so pick one.”

  Sutter winced. “I didn’t think about the fact that your students would be here.” He looked around. “Where do you put them?”

  “Not in here,” she admitted. “I have sixteen if they all show up.”

  “If?” he prompted.

  “Attendance has been a bit of a problem since the flood,” she told him. “Some parents don’t seem to understand that I’m following the curriculum—teaching essential subjects to their kids so they’re not behind when we do get back into a real classroom. They seem to think that because this isn’t actually a school, attendance is optional.”

  “So where is the classroom?”

  She opened a pair of French doors and led him into the living room, where her furniture—a butter-yellow sofa, two matching armchairs with ottomans and a set of glass-and-metal occasional tables—had all been pushed back against the walls to make room for the long folding tables and chairs that occupied the middle of the room.

  “And you spend the wh
ole day in here with sixteen kids?”

  She laughed softly. “You’re feeling claustrophobic just thinking about it, aren’t you?”

  “A little,” he admitted, not surprised that she’d read his thoughts so easily. No one had ever understood him like Paige. In fact, when he’d first told her about his job interview at a management company in Seattle, she’d warned that he wouldn’t last behind a desk, that he’d go crazy stuck in an office.

  “Actually, I try not to keep them cooped up in here all day. If the weather’s nice, I walk them down the street to the Country Kids Day Care so they can run around outside—that’s our physical education component. And if there’s research to be done, we go over to the library to use the computers there.”

  The coffeepot hissed, signaling that it was finished brewing. Paige turned back to the kitchen and poured two mugs of coffee. He took the one she handed to him, shook his head when she offered cream and sugar. He’d always taken his coffee black, and he saw that she still did, too.

  He settled onto one of the stools at the island while Paige cut the slice of cheesecake down the middle, then transferred one half to a second plate. She carried the plates and forks to the island, but instead of sitting beside him, she remained standing on the opposite side.

  She cut off a piece of cake, then slid the fork between her lips. Her eyelids closed and a sound of pleasure hummed in her throat. “Mmm. This is even more incredible than I remembered.”

  The expression on her face was pure bliss—a both tempting and painful reminder that she was a sensual woman who enjoyed indulging in all kinds of pleasures.

  “Ellie Traub’s secret recipe,” he said lightly. “She doesn’t let anyone step foot in the kitchen while she’s making it.”

  “She let me help her with it once.”

  “She did not.”

  “She did,” Paige insisted. “She was making it for the baby shower, when Laurel was pregnant with Robbie.”

  “Mom always did like you best,” he said, managing to coax another smile from her.