“She’s talking to her own parents right now,” Craig replied, running his fingers over his scalp and wondering if it would be worth catching pneumonia to go outside with wet hair.
“You guys aren’t going to her folks’ for Thanksgiving, are you? It’s the first year in a long time that I’m gonna have all my kids at the house together.”
“No, we can come there, Mrs. Clifton,” Caroline said from behind him, apparently disconnected now from her own conversation.
“Fantastic,” his mom replied. “Dear, I can’t wait to meet you. Craig, make sure you stop by Daisy’s on your way out of town and bring a pie.”
His free hand dropped from his damp head to his neck as he tried to massage some of the tension away. “But I thought Meemaw was baking the pies.”
“She is. However, Grandpac is also coming now and unless you want your new girlfriend to see a repeat of the Pecan Pie Controversy of 2011, you’ll bring an extra one.”
“I’d be happy to make a pie, Mrs. Clifton,” Caroline volunteered. Craig pivoted to face his pretend fiancée and shook his head at her before it was too late.
“That might work as long as Meemaw doesn’t know you made it yourself, dear. And please call me Carol. Or even Mom?”
Okay, his mother’s tone was a bit too hopeful and Caroline’s smile was a bit too pleased. Taking her to his family’s ranch for Thanksgiving would all but seal their fate. It was entirely too risky.
Luckily, Craig still had a couple of days to get out of this mess. “Let’s not finalize anything until later in the week, okay, Mom?”
“Sounds like a plan,” his mom said and Craig wanted to reply that there was absolutely no plan. But the woman, who had raised eight children—and knew her way around the very best stall tactics—continued, “I’m guessing you two will be coming out on Wednesday? Everyone else is coming out on Wednesday.”
“Probably Thursday morning, Mom,” Craig sighed and Caroline smiled even wider.
“It’s a long drive to Thunder Canyon from Rust Creek Falls, though. So don’t be late.”
Chapter Eleven
“Why couldn’t I make the pie myself?” Caroline asked Thursday morning as she climbed into the passenger side of Craig’s vehicle.
For the past three days, he’d insisted on driving her to and from work and he’d always held open the door.
“Remember I told you about making sure you don’t take sides between Meemaw and Grandpac?” he asked, reaching across her legs to place the pink bakery box he’d picked up from Daisy’s yesterday on the floorboard between them. It was the closest he’d gotten to her since the night they’d kissed.
Thousands of times this week, she’d been prepared to tell him that she’d regained her memory. But then he’d call her “honey,” and her breath would bottle up in her lungs and all she could do was smile at him. Or he’d show up at her office, his boots and jeans all dusty from whichever local ranch he’d visited that day, and his concerned blue eyes and his sexy cowboy hat were a welcome sight after a long afternoon dealing with pushy vendors or mind-changing brides.
Then there was the morning when his brother had called him while they were in the truck. Craig’s Bluetooth had automatically switched on and she heard Will ask if he and Caroline wanted to carpool to Thunder Canyon for Thanksgiving.
At that point, her curiosity became stronger than her guilt and she thought that meeting his family might give her some sort of insight about the man who’d established himself as her protector, while simultaneously keeping his distance from her. Maybe he wasn’t as physically attracted to her as she was to him. This trip would give her the opportunity to find out.
Caroline reached for her seat belt. “And remember I told you that I can handle squabbling family members in my sleep? I do it at work all the time.”
“That’s the other reason I didn’t want you to make the pie. You’ve been so busy at work and every night you come home and make me these fabulous home-cooked meals when you should be resting and taking it easy. Did you know that it can take weeks for a person to recover from a concussion?”
“I know.” Caroline rolled her eyes and then sing-songed the same thing he’d been saying to her at least twice a day. “‘Just because I can’t see my injury doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.’”
Normally, she would think it was sweet that he tried so hard to take care of her, but she was running on limited time here. She needed to impress him with her domestic abilities and get him to fall in love with her so that he’d propose before Christmas. But Craig seemed to be thwarting her attempts at every turn.
While she’d been working at Mikayla Brown’s postbirth baby shower at Sunshine Farm on Sunday afternoon, he’d finished the laundry and ironed every single article of her clothing, including her sports bras, her hand towels and her Egyptian cotton bedsheets. On Monday, he’d done the grocery shopping at Crawford’s General Store while she’d been at the office, and on Tuesday, she’d come home to a spotlessly scrubbed bathroom.
Last night, he’d tried to grill rib eyes for her on her landlord’s outdoor grill, but they’d run out of propane. And by the time he got back from the hardware store with a new tank, it was pouring rain and the wind was howling like crazy. She’d saved the meal by broiling the steaks and then wowing him with au gratin potatoes and her knowledge of useless college football stats.
If Craig needed a party thrown, Caroline had quite the résumé to show him. But Craig didn’t seem to need anything. Or anyone. He certainly didn’t need to kiss her again, she thought as he closed her door and climbed into the driver’s side.
The sun was barely rising as they began the three-hundred-mile drive to Thunder Canyon. Since Craig didn’t seem inclined to keep up any sort of conversation, Caroline turned on the radio. A blast of screaming electric guitar shot through the speakers, and her first instinct was to cover her ears.
But Craig raised the volume and then began singing along with the heavy metal song. When he noticed her staring at him in shock, his voice trailed off. “What?”
“You mean, you purposely have this station programmed on your radio?”
“What else would I listen to?” he asked.
“Um, maybe country music? You’re a cowboy.”
“Oh, really?” He winked at her and a shiver ran down her spine. “I didn’t get the memo.”
They ended up compromising on a classic rock station and Caroline closed her eyes to prevent herself from chattering on senselessly. The past few nights that he’d stayed at her house, they’d settled into a routine of comfortable silence when the television was on or there was music playing, and she didn’t want to do anything now that might rock the boat.
Or to remind her that she really had no business tagging along for a family holiday when they weren’t really engaged. Yet.
That “yet” part was what gave Caroline an unprecedented bout of nausea. She would’ve liked to blame it on motion sickness but she’d never been carsick before in her life. It had to be her nerves telling her that this was a bad idea. Sure, his mom had invited her, but did his family really know the truth? That she and Craig had really only known each other a few days? On the other hand, if she didn’t call him her fiancé or perpetuate this myth that they were in a legitimate relationship, then she wasn’t technically deceiving anyone.
Plus, if she was being truly honest with herself, she really didn’t want to spend Thanksgiving alone.
Halfway there, they pulled into a truck stop restaurant and gas station. Caroline used the restroom while Craig ordered them some breakfast sandwiches and coffee to go. The closer they got to Thunder Canyon, the more nervous Caroline’s tummy became. Maybe meeting his parents and the rest of his family was a bad idea. After all, they’d been practically living together the last few days and not once had they socialized with any of his married siblings who lived nearby. Craig saw them w
hile she was at work, but when he was with her, they didn’t so much as go to the Gold Rush Diner to share a meal, let alone be seen anywhere out in public together.
Not that most of the people in Rust Creek Falls didn’t already know there was something going on with them. But nobody seemed to know what that “something” was. In fact, a small group of ladies at the baby shower on Sunday had brought up his name with questions in their eyes, but Caroline had been in work mode and didn’t think it would be professional to talk about her dating life. Or the fact that she and Craig had never truly gone on an actual date.
The irony was, the more nervous Caroline grew with each passing mile that brought her closer to lying directly to his family, the more relaxed Craig became. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t exactly lying to his parents. Initially, she’d really thought she and Craig were engaged, and since he still hadn’t corrected her, their engagement could be construed as a form of implied consent on his part. Perhaps he really did want to marry her.
Still, the fact remained that Craig had been quiet and tense during the first half of the drive. Yet now he began to speak more, pointing out landmarks and telling her a story about the creek where Grandpac had taken him and his brothers fishing when Craig had been in the sixth grade.
“Rob, my youngest brother, had been eager to catch the biggest trout and didn’t bother looking behind him before casting his line. We hear this shout, followed by a slew of four-letter words, but it was too late. Rob had got his hook caught in Grandpac’s ear, then felt so bad about it he yanked the pole to try and pull it out. He ended up ripping right through the cartilage.”
“Your poor grandfather!” Caroline shuddered.
“More like poor Jonathan. He’s the second oldest and was closest to the first-aid kit when it happened. Grandpac cussed up a blue streak when Jonathan tried to disinfect the wound and bandage it up. Between you and me, I think that’s why my brother became a pediatrician instead of going into geriatric medicine.”
“So one of your brothers is a doctor?” Caroline turned in her seat. She recalled that day coming home from the hospital, when Craig had admitted that she hadn’t met any of his family yet. So it wasn’t like she had to pretend that she didn’t know anything about his siblings. “Tell me about the others.”
“Jonathan is married to Dawn, who is a nurse. Next is Will. We went to his and Jordyn’s house that day...” Craig didn’t have to say which day that was. She remembered. It was the same day she’d insisted that he come stay with her at her house.
“Got it.” She tried to sound casual. “Who’s next?”
“My sister Catherine and her husband, Cody, then Rob, who is single and still lives on the ranch. Cecelia is after him—she’s married to Nick—then Calista and her husband, Jake. My sister Celeste, everyone calls her C.C., is the baby. Maybe I should’ve written it all down for you ahead of time.”
“Craig, it’s my job to remember who’s who. We once planned a wedding for a bride with thirteen bridesmaids. To this day, I can tell you their dress sizes and whether their dates requested the prime rib or the salmon.” Then Caroline proceeded to list the names of his siblings in order, along with their spouses. “I got this.”
When he smiled at her across the cab of his truck, her throat constricted. It occurred to Caroline that she had never seen Craig smile so broadly. She’d seen looks of concern, looks of curiosity, even looks of desire. She’d even seen several grins. But she had never seen him as truly happy as he looked at that exact moment.
Apparently, his family was everything to him. Caroline really hoped she didn’t blow this.
* * *
When they’d passed the turnoff to Interstate 90, Craig’s blood had run cold at the sight of the wooden white cross on the side of the road.
It was why he hadn’t said much to Caroline during the first half of the road trip. No matter how many times he’d driven the stretch of highway from Rust Creek Falls to Thunder Canyon, seeing that small handcrafted monument to one of his biggest failures always haunted him.
He hadn’t brought a woman home to meet his family since Tina, and even then, he technically hadn’t brought her home since she’d practically been there the whole time. In fact, it had been the opposite when she died. They’d been at a bar with some of her cousins outside Kalispell and returning to Thunder Canyon late at night. Craig had been sound asleep in the passenger side and Tina behind the wheel of her daddy’s old Jeep, probably too exhausted to have even seen the stalled logging truck before it was too late.
After the crash, he’d been lost and hurt, his relationships with women more about filling a temporary physical need. But he could only ride bulls for so long before his body began reminding him that he was no longer in his prime. Eventually, Craig had been forced to go home to confront his past as well as the rest of life. The life he was now meant to have without Tina.
Craig liked to think that he’d made his peace with all of it. After all, he’d driven this exact same route hundreds of times before. But he’d never driven it with another woman. Fortunately, with each mile that separated him and that white cross, his guilt was slowly replaced with an eagerness to be home. To see his ranch and his family and his future.
By the time he and Caroline stopped for breakfast, Craig’s muscles had lost most of their tension. And by the time they passed the sign welcoming them to Thunder Canyon, he was downright chatty. In fact, he felt like he’d been talking nonstop for the past twenty minutes while Caroline seemed to shrink against the passenger seat. His family was huge and overwhelming, and, of course, a city girl and an only child like Caroline—even if she could easily memorize and recite everyone’s name—might be feeling out of her element.
He’d called his dad yesterday and spoken with all of his brothers, explaining Caroline’s condition and urging them to just go along with the fake engagement. Craig knew better than to appeal directly to his mom and sisters. All of his female relatives would tell him that this was a horrible idea.
As if Craig wasn’t already perfectly aware of that, thank you very much.
Still, what if someone in his family slipped and said something? Chances were that there was going to be a slew of people huddled on the front porch when they arrived, eager to meet her and bombard them both with questions. Perhaps he should gently prepare her for the fact that one of his relatives was likely to say something that might trigger her memory.
“So,” he started, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “Your parents seemed a bit surprised that you were engaged.”
Okay, so that wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted to bring up. He was still trying to be cautious about not adding any undue stress on her, but he wanted her to understand that his family, too, might have a similar response. They might exhibit the same kind of curiosity to this unexpected engagement of theirs.
“They did seem surprised,” Caroline replied, but didn’t add any theories on why that might be.
“Are you feeling sick?” he asked and she followed his eyes to where her palms rested against her stomach.
She yanked her hands away quickly, then fiddled with the strap on her seat belt. “I guess I’m just a little nervous.”
“It’s not too late to turn back,” he offered even as he made a right onto the long driveway that would lead to his family’s ranch house.
“No,” she said, turning in her seat toward him, her brown eyes full of determination. “Don’t turn back. I really do want to be here.”
She also thought she wanted to marry him. And the longer he let her go on believing that, the more attached she would get. Even he was getting a little too comfortable in this alternate universe they’d inadvertently created. The problem was that when she finally remembered that he wasn’t the man she thought he was, this carefully constructed bubble of theirs would burst. It was like chewing gum. The bigger the bubble got, the bigger the mess it would make whe
n it finally exploded in his face.
But that didn’t stop him from continuing down the gravel road toward his home.
Despite all the vehicles parked in the circular drive, Craig had been wrong about his prediction of everyone waiting on the front porch to greet them. In fact, when they got out of his truck, the only member of their welcoming committee was an old tomcat sunning himself on the front steps and watching their approach with equal parts mild interest and total disdain.
“You really do have a three-legged cat.” Caroline shifted the pie box into the crook of her left arm and slowly approached the porch, holding out an open palm to the normally cantankerous feline. He was surprised the old grouch was allowing a stranger to pet him.
Craig reached out to scratch the tabby between the ears but was suitably rejected in favor of Caroline’s ministrations. He stood back up, knowing the cat could only ignore him for so long.
“Yep, and he always punishes me like this whenever I’ve been away from the ranch. Don’t you, Tiny Tim?”
The box wobbled against Caroline’s hip and she set it down on the wooden step. “Wait, your cat’s name is Tiny Tim?”
“Yeah, but he’s obviously not very tiny, are you, boy?” The tabby finally purred at Craig before nudging its chin against his leg. “He also doesn’t have the same sunny disposition as his namesake.”
“His namesake?” she asked and Craig bent down to rub Tim’s back when he realized Caroline’s hand wasn’t moving.
“I know what you’re thinking, that it’s not very politically correct to name a three-legged cat after the kid from that Scrooge movie. But my sister C.C. was the one who came up with it and since she was only seven at the time and already spoiled rotten, we never really corrected her.”
“It’s called A Christmas Carol,” she offered, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“What is?”
“That Scrooge movie you’re talking about. It’s actually a book by Charles Dickens. I’m named after that story.”
The Maverick's Christmas to Remember Page 10
