A Cold Creek Holiday

by RaeAnne Thayne

  That was apparently enough for them. For the next few moments the girls talked about colors and patterns until their uncle returned to the room.

  "Your reservation wasn't on the main calendar in the office, but I found it on a deleted copy of her files from the hard drive backup. I don't know what happened. Everything is in such a mess."

  "Is the cabin I reserved available, then?"

  He sighed. "Nobody else is staying there, so I suppose you could say it's available. But Joanie basically ran the lodging side of things and I haven't had time to replace her yet. I'm going to have to scramble just to find maid service. It might take me a few days, so you might want to reconsider and find a place in Jackson Hole. We'll of course fully refund your deposit."

  "I don't need maid service. I can take care of myself. I just need a quiet place where I can get some work done."

  He studied her for a long moment then finally shrugged. "I think you're crazy, but what do I know? If you want to stay, I suppose it wouldn't be fair of me to turn you away since you've had a reservation for several months. Let me grab my coat and I'll take you down and open the cabin."

  "Yay! You're staying." Tallie beamed at her as Nate reached into a closet in the hallway and emerged with fleece-lined ranch coat. "Now you can show us how to make a hat."

  "She only said we could see," the older girl warned her sister. "That usually means no."

  "Ms. Kendall is our guest," their uncle said with what she was beginning to consider his characteristic frown. "You girls are not to pester her. You know the rules."

  Though Emery had been seeking a tactful way to discourage them, she had a sudden obstinate urge to do exactly the opposite.

  "Give me a day or two to settle in. I brought my sewing machine and some fabric samples we could probably use."

  "Who packs a sewing machine for a holiday visit to the mountains?"

  She forced a smile. "I'm not here to ski, Mr…."

  "Sorry. Cavazos. Nate Cavazos."

  "Mr. Cavazos. This is a working vacation for me. I just need peace and quiet to finish several projects awaiting my attention. The setting doesn't really matter."

  That was an outright lie, but she decided it was none of Nate Cavavos's business exactly why she had come to Cold Creek.

  * * *

  Damn tourists.

  Nate grabbed the key to the biggest and best of the four small cabins his sister and her husband had built along Cold Creek.

  If he had his way, he would send Miss Fancy Kendall back to Jackson Hole, just be blunt and tell her in no uncertain terms that there was no room at the inn.

  What the hell did he know about running a guest ranch? He was a highly trained military specialist with a background in explosives. He knew about blowing things up and planning clandestine operations. Organized chaos was his specialty, not fluffing pillows and fetching tea for sleek city women who drove Lexus SUVs and looked as if they just stepped out of some aprés skiwear catalog.

  Damn the woman and damn Joanie Reynolds for running off and leaving such a mess behind.

  "If you'll follow me, you can park your vehicle next to the cabin. I'll unlock it for you and make sure the heat's working, then help you with your bags."

  "That's not necessary, really. Both of us don't need to go out into the storm. I can take the key and let myself in if you'll just point me in the right direction."

  He ignored her and opened the door. "Claire, keep an eye on Tallie for me, okay? I'll be back in a minute. I've got my cell with me if you need me."

  "Okay."

  She was too agreeable, his oldest niece. He hadn't seen her a great deal in her eleven years, just the occasional visit between deployments, but he remembered her as always being eager to please. In the three months since her parents died, she had become even more so, though she still tried to boss her younger sister around as if she were trying desperately to control that one little corner of a chaotic universe.

  "When can we make the hats?" Tallie asked.

  "What hats?"

  Emery Kendall pointed to hers. "They were admiring my cloche. I told them I could perhaps help them sew one of their own."

  He didn't know what the hell a cloche was. It sounded French and vaguely sexy, especially to a man who hadn't been with a woman since before his last tour of duty.

  "Girls, you're not to bother our guests. You know that."

  "They weren't bothering me," she protested. "I told them we could see in a few days, once I settle in."

  His mouth tightened. That was the last thing he needed, for his grieving, emotionally hungry nieces to suddenly decide to latch onto this stranger who was only going to be here for a week or so.

  They missed their mother and father terribly. The hell of it was, he had come to the conclusion he was far worse at parenting than he was at running a guest ranch.

  "You don't have entertain Tallie and Claire," he said, his voice gruff. "Especially when you've got work of your own to do."

  She looked as if she wanted to argue, but he wasn't at all in the mood to tangle with her anymore tonight. He wanted to get the blasted woman settled in to her cabin and come back to the house so he could figure out where the hell his life had gone so disastrously off-track in a few short months.

  "You girls go on up to bed," he said. Though it was an order, he tried not to phrase it as such. He had learned the first few weeks after Suzi and John died that eight-and eleven-year-old girls didn't respond like trained commandos to terse commands. "I'll check on you when I come back inside."

  Without waiting for their answer—or to see if Ms. Kendall followed him—he turned up his collar, pulled down his Stetson and headed out into the lightly blowing snow.

  He was halfway down the driveway he hadn't had time to plow yet and trudging toward the cabins a few hundred yards away from the house before he heard her vehicle start up behind him.

  He had to admit, his sister and her husband had picked a good spot for guest cabins. When he was a kid, this part of the struggling ranch had held rusting old farm equipment and a ramshackle shed or two. But Suzi and John had cleared all that out and built four comfortable log cabins out of old salvaged timbers and white chinking so they looked as if they had been there forever.

  In the daylight, the place had a nice view of the west slope of the Tetons and of Cold Creek Canyon. And Suzi had made the inside of each cabin warm and welcoming.

  He didn't know much about this sort of thing. As long as he had a sleeping bag and a tight-weave tent to keep out the worst of the bugs and the sandstorms, he was fine. But he imagined the guests of the ranch Suzi had renamed Hope Springs probably appreciated the handmade curtains and the lodgepole pine furnishings.

  He unlocked the first cabin and immediately switched on the electric fireplace in the main room and the smaller fireplace in the bedroom. Between the two of them, they did a surprisingly effective job of keeping the place toasty in only a matter of minutes.

  He walked back out onto the porch and found the blasted woman trying to wrestle a huge suitcase out of the cargo space of the SUV.

  "I said I'd help you with your bags," he muttered.

  Despite the dim light from the porch and the swirl of snow, he didn't miss the cool look she sent him out of lovely blue eyes he didn't want to notice.

  "I appreciate your…courtesy."

  He didn't miss the slight, subtle pause before she said the last word. Though he wanted to bark and growl and tell her where to shove that delicate hint of sarcasm, he forced a tight smile.

  "Here at Hope Springs, we're nothing if not courteous," he said in a benign sort of voice that matched her own.

  He reached down and pulled the suitcase away from her then lifted another one out. The back was chock-full with five suitcases and several bags of groceries. At least Joanie must have had the foresight despite her typical ditziness to encourage their guest to shop for food before she arrived. He was grateful for that, at least. The ranch didn't provide any meals and the ne
arest restaurant was six miles down the canyon in Pine Gulch, but the cabin was outfitted with a full kitchen.

  Between the two of them, it only took a few trips to empty out the back of her vehicle and set everything inside the now-toasty cabin.

  When he returned inside with the last load, he found her in the kitchen, putting away food from the grocery bags.

  She had taken off her coat and beneath it she wore a pale blue turtleneck that showed just how nicely curved she was in all the right places.

  He didn't want to notice. "The kitchen should have everything you need in the way of pots and pans and that sort of thing. If you're missing anything you need, you can call up to the main house."

  "I'm sure I'll be fine."

  "The reservation said you're staying until the twenty-seventh. Is anyone else joining you?"

  He wondered if he imagined the way she tilted her chin in a rather defiant sort of way. "No."

  She was staying here by herself through Christmas? He wasn't big on celebrating the holidays himself, but he had to wonder what would make a soft, pretty woman like Emery Kendall leave everything familiar and hide out in the Idaho wilderness alone during Christmas.

  None of his business, he reminded himself. He had enough on his plate without spending a minute wondering why she wanted to hole up here by herself.

  "If you need anything, the number to the main house is the top button programmed on the phone," he said.

  "I'm sure I'll be fine. Thank you for your help." She paused. "Actually, there is one thing. When I made the initial reservation, I was told I was welcome to use any of the Hope Springs horses during my stay."

  "That's generally the policy. If you need help saddling a horse, you can usually find me or Bill Higgins, the hired man, somewhere around the place."

  "I shouldn't need help. I've been around horses most of my life. But thank you."

  A woman who sewed fancy hats, wore her clothes with the kind of flair that belonged in a fashion magazine, drove a rented Lexus SUV and apparently had plenty of experience with horses. He gave a mental head shake as he said good-night and walked back into the December night.

  He wasn't sure what to think of her. Nothing, he reminded himself. He didn't need to spend one more minute than necessary thinking about the woman. She was a guest at the ranch, that was all. One he would be thrilled to send on her way at the earliest possible opportunity.

  Chapter Two

  She slept better than she had in months.

  It was an unexpected boon. She had never been able to sleep well in a strange bed. Coupled with the insomnia that had troubled her since before her mother died, Emery had anticipated a rough night.

  Perhaps she had only been exhausted from the long day of travel and the complications of her arrival. Whatever the reason for her deep sleep, she awoke invigorated, her mind racing with ideas for the boutique hotel redesign she was working on for one of her favorite clients, Spencer Hotels.

  This is exactly what she hoped might happen, that escaping from her routine in Warrenton might help her recapture some of the joy she had always found when a new project started to click in her head.

  What she had taken to be a blizzard the night before left only about three or four inches of new snow on the ground. She opened the rather ordinary beige tab curtains to the alpine scene outside her windows and spent the morning with her sketchbook.

  The hotel Eben Spencer had recently purchased was in Livingston, Montana, gateway to the north entrance of Yellowstone. He wanted mountain chic with an edge and custom everything—window coverings, upholstery, bed linens.

  By early afternoon, she had filled her sketchbook with several possibilities she thought would work for the property. After a quick bowl of canned tomato soup and half a sandwich, the lure of the brilliant blue sky—the pure clarity of it against the dark green pine topped with snow—was too powerful for her to resist.

  She bundled into silk long johns and her warmest outdoor gear and decided to check out the ranch's equine offerings.

  As she walked past red-painted outbuildings toward the large horse barn and corrals she had spied the night before on her way in, she saw no sign of her reluctant host. Her only companion was a magpie who squawked at her from atop the split-rail fence then hopped away in a flash of iridescent wings.

  At the horse barn, a half dozen horses munched alfalfa that had recently been spread for them in the snow-covered pasture and it appeared as if that many again preferred the warmth of the barn.

  She stood at the railing, admiring the quarter horses. She could see a couple mares were ready to foal and all of them looked well-fed and content.

  After a few moments, a strong-boned dappled gray gelding wandered over to her spot and dipped his head for a little love.

  "You are a pretty boy, aren't you," she murmured and he whinnied and tossed his head as if in complete agreement.

  "That one was our mom's horse."

  She whirled around and found the girls from the night before watching her from the corner of the pasture. Claire and Tallie, she remembered.

  They wore jeans and parkas and mismatched gloves and Tallie's hair was slipping out of her braid. Had her sister fixed it or had Nate? The idea of that dangerous-looking man trying to wrangle his niece's hair tugged at her emotions.

  "Hi," she greeted the girls.

  "That was our mom's favorite horse," Claire repeated.

  "He's beautiful," Emery answered.

  "His name is Cielo. It means cloud in Spanish," the younger girl said. "You can ride him if you want."

  "Oh, I don't…"

  Tallie didn't wait for her to answer. "Annabelle was our mom's other favorite horse, but she's having a baby after Christmas so you can't ride her."

  "Which one is Annabelle?"

  "The black with the white stockings," Claire said, gesturing to a lovely mare currently drinking from the water trough.

  "So do you want to ride Cielo?"

  She did, suddenly, but she was wary about riding a horse that had been a favorite of their deceased mother.

  "If you're sure it's okay."

  "Sure," Tallie answered, then her gamine features lit up. "Hey, she could come with us! Then we could go now."

  "Where are you going?" Emery asked warily.

  "Just a friend's house," Claire said.

  "By yourselves?"

  The girls exchanged glances. "We're allowed to ride as long as we have someone with us," Claire finally answered, an explanation Emery didn't completely buy.

  "What were you planning to do before you ran into me here?"

  "Wait." Tallie heaved a put-upon sigh. "We've been waiting all morning, and Uncle Nate is still busy with the man who came from Idaho Fall."

  "The lawyer," Claire said. "He's talking about our mom and dad's state."

  It took Emery a moment to deduce their uncle and the attorney must be discussing their parents' estate. Poor little things, to lose both their mother and their father.

  Let that be a lesson to her. Just when she was tempted to wallow in self-pity at the strange journey her life had taken over the past few years, she was completely gob-smacked by someone whose path was even tougher.

  "I'm sure they'll be finished soon."

  "But we have an important mission," Tallie declared. "We can't wait much longer. We really can't."

  Emery couldn't help her smile. Had she been so dramatic at eight? "What could possibly be so urgent?"

  "Our friend Tanner has been home sick from school for three whole days."

  Again, Emery had to swallow a smile at the gravity in the girl's voice. "Oh my goodness. I hope it's nothing serious."

  "He had the flu and was throwing up and everything. He said it was really gross. But his stepmom said he's feeling tons better."

  "That's a relief." Emery was surprised to find herself enjoying her interaction with these cute girls.

  "Yeah, only I brought home all his homework papers yesterday and I just have to get them to h
is house so he has time to finish them before school on Monday or he'll be in big trouble."

  "I can see why you're in such a hurry, then."

  "So will you come with us?" Claire asked. "We can help you saddle Cielo."

  She looked at the powerful horse and then back at the girls. She had been considering a ride. And by the looks of him, riding Cielo would indeed be like riding a cloud. What would be the harm in going along with the girls and saving Nate Cavazos a little work?

  "We'd better make sure it's all right with your uncle."

  "I'm sure he won't mind," Claire said. "This way he doesn't have to find the time to take us."

  "Why don't you ask him anyway? I would feel better if he gave his okay. Tallie and I will saddle the horses and meet you at the house in a few minutes, all right?"

  Claire gave a reluctant sigh, but nodded. "Tallie, you get Junebug for me. And don't cinch her too tight."

  "I know. I've only done it a million times."

  Claire returned to the barn a few moments later, just as they were saddling Tallie's small paint pony, a pretty little mare she called Estrella.

  "Did he say it was okay?"

  "Yep," Claire said, her attention turned to her own horse.

  "Good," Emery answered, surprised at how much she was anticipating a good, hard ride. "Does it take long to reach Tanner's house?"

  "It's not far. Maybe a mile," Tallie answered. Before Emery could ask if she needed a hand into the saddle, the girl clambered up like a little monkey and settled easily on the horse's back.

  Both girls looked completely at home in the saddle and Emery, who had been riding since she was younger than either of them, though with an English saddle, felt like a veritable greenhorn in comparison.

  "Come on. Let's go," Tallie insisted, nudging the heels of her boots into the horse's side.

  The younger girl led the way down the snowy driveway and both of the other horses followed Estrella with alacrity, tack jingling softly and their gaits smart, as if they were thrilled to be out in the cold, invigorating air.

  The mountains loomed over them, raw and jagged, their peaks a dramatic contrast of snow and pine.