A Cold Creek Holiday

by RaeAnne Thayne

  What in the hell?

  He followed his nose to the kitchen and had his second shock in as many minutes when he found Emery Kendall working at the kitchen island, wearing a splattered apron and looking decidedly bedraggled, her sleek blond hair falling out of its knot.

  "Whoa. What's going on in here?"

  "Tamales!" Tallie exclaimed, her little features flush with excitement. "We're making tamales, Uncle Nate. Can you smell them?"

  "We always had tamales on Christmas Eve," Claire added, a little defiantly. "Mama said she always had them when you were kids and you did, too."

  "We messed them up the first time and we were so upset," Tallie confided. "We thought Christmas was ruined for sure and then I said maybe Emery could help us fix them and Claire said that was a good idea and so we went and asked her and she said okay and this batch is just perfect."

  "I wouldn't say perfect," Emery muttered. "But I hope they're edible."

  He met her gaze and she looked frazzled and slightly helpless and completely beautiful, with her cheeks pink from the steam coming from the stove.

  "Wow. I haven't had real homemade tamales in years."

  He had a sudden vivid memory of this very kitchen, when he was probably a few years younger than Tallie, during the time he still considered the good years before his father died.

  His mother would spend several days before Christmas making tamales from the recipe she learned from his abuela. They would have a big party with relatives and friends from all over southern Idaho. Cousins, uncles, aunts. It had been crazy and noisy and wonderful.

  He tended to dwell on all the ugliness that came after with his mother and forget there had been plenty of good times along the way, before everything went wrong.

  "They smell delicioso."

  The girls both giggled and he smiled at them. His gaze shifted again to Emery's and something sparked between them, something sweet and bright.

  "You are a woman of many talents," he murmured. "How does a blue blood Virginia textile designer know how to make tamales?"

  She made a face. "I don't, as I'm sure you'll figure out when they're finally done. I followed your sister's recipe as best I could and then ended up making a frantic call to my friend Freddie—short for Frederica—and she walked me through it."

  He peered into the steamer at two dozen pale rolled cornhusks and his stomach rumbled. "They look perfect. I just might have to eat them all."

  "No!" Tallie exclaimed. "We get some, too. We're the ones who made them!"

  "We'll have to see who's the quickest." He winked at her and found Emery gazing at him with an expression in her blue eyes he couldn't identify.

  He wanted to bask in it suddenly, to burn this memory into his mind along with all those years of Christmas parties.

  "How soon before they'll be done?"

  "We actually had enough for two batches so you'll have some to freeze later. We're ready to put the second batch in now and the first batch will be done in about a half hour."

  "Perfect. That will give me time to clean the barn off me." The words suddenly reminded him of the past two hours' effort. "Oh! I nearly forgot. I came in to tell you I've got a Christmas Eve surprise for you."

  "What is it?" Tallie exclaimed. "Is it a present? Can we open it?"

  "I guess you could say it's a present that's already been opened. Actually, it's not my surprise at all. It's Annabelle's. She had her foal three weeks early. That's what took me so long."

  Why did girls always have to use that high-pitched squeal when they were excited? No "yeah, dudes" or fist-pounding around here. They just pierced his eardrums with their glee then hugged each other and danced around the kitchen.

  "We have to go see it! Right now!" Claire exclaimed.

  "After dinner, okay?" he said. "Otherwise the tamales will steam too long and they'll be ruined. You've put so much work into them, I want to do dinner justice."

  They didn't look thrilled at the delay, but they didn't argue. "Uncle Nate, Emery can stay and have dinner with us tonight, can't she?" Tallie asked.

  He shot a look at Emery at the stove just in time to see her mouth open a little in surprise at the backhanded invitation. Her surprise quickly shifted to discomfort.

  "It's Christmas Eve, honey," she answered. "It's a time for families and I'm not really part of your family."

  "But if you hadn't helped us with the tamales, we would have starved!"

  She smiled a little at this dramatic wail, but he thought he saw sadness in her eyes. He wondered at it for a moment then suddenly remembered. This was Christmas Eve, the two-year anniversary of her baby's death. His chest felt tight, achy.

  "I'm sure your uncle wouldn't have let you starve. He would have found something for you to eat."

  "I had a lasagna in the freezer just waiting to be warmed up. But traditional tamales will be much, much better." He paused, wishing he could take her hand in front of the girls. "We'd love to have you join us. Will you stay?"

  He waited for her answer, startled by how very much he wanted her to say yes.

  "I'm starving," she admitted. "I didn't have lunch. And since the tamales won't be done for some time, I'd love to walk back to the cabin for a moment to clean up."

  He wanted to tell her she looked beautiful, that seeing her with all her perfection a little bit messed up only seemed to add to her appeal. Instead, he only smiled.

  "Meet you back here in half an hour, then."

  * * *

  Dinner was an unqualified success.

  The tamales were fantastic, rich and spicy and very much like the recipe he remembered from his childhood.

  Afterward, they laughed and joked while they cleaned up together and then bundled up to walk down to the barn to see Annabelle's yuletide present, all spindly legs and big eyes and baffled expression.

  "Oh! He's beautiful!" Tallie exclaimed while Claire folded her hands together and tucked them against her heart.

  "He's a she," Nate said, completely enjoying their delight. "I figured you two could pick out a name for her."

  "What about Holly?" Claire asked.

  "Or Chrissy?" Tallie said. "For Christmas."

  "What about Noël?" Emery joined into their name game.

  "Noël! I love it!" Claire said.

  "Me, too," her sister declared.

  "Noël it is, then. That work okay for you, Annabelle?"

  The mare blew her lips out in a raspberry that sounded very much like agreement and all of them laughed.

  The girls continued to be entranced with the foal, but after a moment he saw Emery ease slightly away from them to lean against the railing of the opposite stall. Even though he knew in his gut the smartest move would be to keep as much distance as possible, he couldn't seem to resist joining her.

  "I finished the quilts this afternoon," she said in an undertone so the girls couldn't hear. "Actually, I had just sewn the last stitch about ten minutes before the girls rushed down to the cabin in the midst of the great tamale catastrophe."

  "You did?"

  "Yes. And even though this probably sounds terribly vain, I have to admit, they turned out beautifully. I think they'll love them."

  "I'm sure they will."

  "When I went back to the cabin to change before dinner, I wrapped them both up for you. If you want, you can pick them up when you transfer all the presents from the other cabin."

  Oh, right. He still had to drag everything up to the house and put it under the tree later. In light of the fact that she had just spent two days sewing quilts for the girls, he had little to complain about, even if the prospect of filling stockings and making everything just right did feel a little overwhelming right about now.

  "I have a better idea," he said suddenly. "We talked about giving them the nightgowns tonight, but let's give them the quilts instead. Then they can sleep wrapped in them and maybe it will feel a little like their parents are with them on Christmas Eve."

  Her smile was soft and radiant, like sunshi
ne creeping over the mountaintops on a frigid January day, and he wanted to stay here in this cold barn and bask in it.

  "What a wonderful idea!"

  No. He didn't want to bask in her smile. He wanted to capture it with his own mouth and absorb it inside him. Somehow that made it all worse.

  "Let's do it now. We can pick them up at your cabin and then go back to the house for the girls to open them."

  "I don't need to be there with you," she protested. "It's a family time."

  He stopped her argument by taking her hands in his and squeezing her fingers, even though he knew touching her probably wasn't the greatest idea. "You absolutely do need to be there. I know you must have worked incredibly hard to finish them on such short notice. I want you there when the girls see them."

  She shot a quick look at Tallie and Claire, still busy laughing at the foal's ungainly steps. "Are you sure? I don't want to overstep."

  "You deserve to be there for the big unveiling." He paused, compelled to be truthful. "And without you, I'm afraid none of us would be having much of a Christmas. You made it all happen, Em. From the Christmas tree to the tamales. It was all you."

  In the dim light inside the barn, he could see color rise on her high cheekbones.

  "I'd love to be there when they open the quilts," she murmured. "If you're sure I'm not intruding."

  He should say yes. He should tell her she had been intruding into his mind since the moment she showed up at the ranch with her deep blue eyes and her rented SUV full of suitcases.

  But he only shook his head. "It's going to be great. Let's do it."

  * * *

  "Please tell us!" Claire begged for the twentieth time as they left Emery's cabin and headed back to the main house a short time later. "What's in the boxes?"

  "You'll find out soon enough," Nate said with a grin. "You can open them after you change into your pajamas."

  "But I can't wait that long," Tallie exclaimed. "I know I can't. The suspense is killing me," she added.

  "I hope not," her uncle answered. "Because then the surprise Emery has for you will just have to go to some other eight-year-old with brown pigtails."

  "Stop teasing me, Uncle Nate. You don't know any other eight-year-olds with brown pigtails."

  "I'll just have to find one," he said pitilessly when they reached the door.

  She glared at him, though she looked more excited than upset. "You will not. But okay. I'll go change into my pajamas. Do we have to take showers?"

  "It wouldn't hurt," Emery said before Nate could answer. "We all got a little messy while we were making tamales and who knows what you might have picked up in the horse barn? But I bet you two can take the fastest showers on record."

  "Me first!" Tallie exclaimed and she headed up the stairs. Claire rolled her eyes at her sister. She followed at a more sedate pace, but after three steps, she started taking them two at a time.

  Too late, Emery realized the girls' defection left her alone with Nate, something she really hadn't been since that heated embrace on the sofa of the other guest cabin. "I'll just set this under the tree," she said after an awkward pause.

  He followed her into the great room and she was painfully aware of him. They both set the large boxes next to the Christmas tree, then to her secret relief, Nate moved to the fireplace to stir the coals and add another log.

  While he was distracted, Emery enjoyed the holiday scene, from the Christmas tree to the new stockings she had made for Nate and the girls, which now hung proudly from the mantel.

  It was a wonderful room, with its soaring vaulted ceilings, log walls and the unpretentious decor. This was exactly the mood she wanted to capture in the textiles for the Spencer Hotels property in Livingston, this completely natural sense of the American West. Warm, homey, completely right, here amid the beauty of their surroundings.

  Nerves fluttered through her like sparks shooting up the chimney when Nate finished at the fireplace and joined her on the sofa. She was again aware of him, the spicy, masculine scent that clung to his skin, the tiny hint of an evening shadow.

  "I'm more excited than they are for them to open the presents," he confessed, "and I haven't even seen the quilts."

  She smiled, doing her best to ignore her reaction to him. "Well, I've seen more than enough of them and I'm still over the moon. I just hope they like them."

  "They'll love them. It's a wonderful thing you've done."

  His dark eyes lit up with warmth and something else and she couldn't seem to look away.

  "Emery—" he began, but whatever he intended to say was lost when they heard footsteps rocketing down the stairs. Those girls instinctively knew when to make an entrance, she thought wryly.

  "I win! I win!" Tallie exclaimed and she raced into the room in a navy blue plaid nightgown.

  "Not by much," Claire retorted as she skidded to a stop beside her sister. She wore waffle-weave long john pajamas with Tweety Bird on the front.

  "Is it time?" Tallie asked. "Can we open them now?"

  Nate slanted a look to Emery that she couldn't quite read, then he looked back at his nieces and cleared his throat. "In a minute. Sit down first."

  The girls sat on the opposite sofa, though Tallie looked poised to start bouncing off the walls any moment now.

  "I owe you girls an apology."

  "Why?" Claire asked.

  "Well, I should have asked you before about the Christmas Eve traditions you used to do with your mom and dad. I should have known about the tamales. Is there anything else we haven't done today that you used to do with your mom and dad?"

  The girls looked puzzled for a moment, their brows furrowed, and then Claire spoke quietly. "Well, every year Dad used to read us the Christmas story before we went to bed. Not the ''Twas The Night Before Christmas' one. The one in the Bible."

  Nate looked a little taken aback as if he hadn't quite been expecting that answer, but he quickly recovered. "Sure. We can do that, if you know where I can find a Bible."

  "I know," Tallie said. She moved to the bookshelf in the corner and after a moment of searching through the spines, she pulled down a white leather book with gilt edges.

  "It was our mama's," Claire said, her voice low.

  Emotions swelled in Emery's throat as Tallie clutched the book to her chest for a moment then finally handed it over to Nate, who had moved to the plump easy chair.

  Nate held it for a long moment, his thumb tracing his sister's gold embossed name on the front. He made no move to open it.

  "Luke, Chapter 2," she said, trying to be helpful.

  His looked up, his mouth quirked into a half smile. "I might not be a particularly religious man, but I do know that much. Thanks, though."

  He opened the Bible, leafed through the pages and finally found the right book and chapter. Much to her surprise, as soon as he started to read, both girls joined her on the larger sofa, Tallie snuggling against Emery's shoulder until she put her arm around her and pulled the girl close.

  Oh, she was going to have a terrible time leaving this place. The lump in her throat expanded. She felt enfolded in the warm, accepting love of these girls and knew it would break her heart into a million tiny, jagged shards to leave them. Next Christmas and every other Christmas would be painful and empty when she compared them to this one that she had started out dreading so much.

  She wouldn't think about that now. Why waste this perfect moment by borrowing tomorrow's pain?

  Nate finished reading, his voice solemn as he read the last words. When he closed the book, they sat in silence for a long moment and then he looked up.

  He seemed surprised to find them all snuggled together and his eyes glittered with a sudden intensity.

  "That was nice," Tallie said solemnly. "It gives me a really happy feeling inside."

  "Me, too," Emery said in perfect accord.

  "I think this is the perfect moment to open your presents," he said, his voice barely above a whisper in keeping with the hushed reverence in t
he house.

  The girls brightened with excitement, but they didn't rip into the presents in a mad rush, as Emery might have expected. Instead, they knelt carefully on the rug by the tree and began to gently peel away the wrapping paper.

  Tallie finished first and Emery held her breath as the girl folded over the flaps on the cardboard box. She reached inside and pulled out the quilt, her pixie features twisted with confusion.

  "It's a blanket."

  "It's a quilt," Emery explained.

  She unfolded it, her eyes wide. "It's pretty," she said, then looked at her sister. "You got one, too!"

  Claire pulled hers out, her hands gentle, almost reverent, as she spread it across the rug.

  "I love the star!"

  "Mine has butterflies," Tallie said. "Can you see them, Uncle Nate?"

  "I see them. Does any of the fabric look familiar?" Nate prompted.

  Claire picked it up and traced the most prominent fabric of the star pattern, lavender with tiny, pale pink flowers. "Mama used to have a skirt like this." She gasped. "And this one looks like Dad's favorite pajama bottoms."

  "Emery used material from the boxes of your mom's and dad's clothing to make the quilt."

  The girls looked stunned. "You did?" Claire gasped.

  "I thought maybe when you had your quilts wrapped around you, it might feel a little bit like you were getting big hugs from your mom and dad."

  Claire's eyes softened and she immediately wrapped her quilt around her shoulders. "You're right. That's just what it feels like," she whispered, looking thrilled.

  Tallie did the same, but suddenly her eyes filled with tears and she let out a ragged little whimper that turned into another and another until she was sobbing.

  Nate went to her and pulled her onto his lap, quilt and all. "You don't have to use it if it's going to make you upset," he said, sounding somewhat panicked by her tears. "I'll put it away. Maybe in a few years you'll want it."

  "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," Emery added, feeling wretched. "I thought it would make you happy."

  "No!" Tallie burst out when Nate reached to take the quilt from her. She held on to it tightly, even as her shoulders trembled. "I didn't mean to cry," she wailed. "I'm sorry. But please don't take it. These are sad tears and happy tears. I really want to put it on my bed. If I sleep with it, I know I won't have any more nightmares."