The Christmas Ranch (The Cowboys of Cold Creek)

by RaeAnne Thayne

  “There you go.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry to be such a big baby. About the height thing, I mean.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Did I say you were a baby? From what I saw, you didn’t want to climb that ladder but you were ready to do it anyway. That’s the exact opposite of cowardice.”

  His words obviously surprised her. Head tilted, she studied him much the same way she had the sign, trying to figure out his angle.

  He didn’t want her looking too closely, wondering at his motives for helping her. “What else can I do? I’ve got two hours before I need to pick up Joey from school and nothing on my agenda but finding something to fill the time. I noticed a couple shutters loose on the lodge. I’ll start there.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “Completely. I want to help. You want the truth, I need something to do or I’m going to go crazy. I’m at loose ends right now while Joey is in school, until Cami’s sentencing. We won’t be here long enough for me to look for a job somewhere and I’m not very good at sitting around watching daytime television. I’m grateful to have something to do—and by the looks of it, you have enough work to keep a dozen of me busy.”

  “At least,” she muttered.

  “So what’s keeping you from letting me help? I worked in construction here and there while I was in high school and the summer before I joined the navy. I’m not a master carpenter but I can make a straight cut and drive a nail.”

  She looked at him suspiciously. “I don’t understand. Why do you want to help me? If you think you’re going to get a huge paycheck, I’m afraid that’s not happening. I can pay you, but not much more than minimum wage.”

  He wanted to tell her she didn’t need to pay him anything but he knew that would only make her more suspicious. He couldn’t tell her why he owed her so he only shook his head.

  “I’ll help pay off Joey’s window debt. After that, you can take the money you would have paid me and donate it to your favorite charity. A school for girls in Afghanistan. Clean drinking water in Guatemala. I’ve got a buddy who works at a recreational therapy program for injured war veterans outside of Hope’s Crossing, Colorado. I can hook you up with him, if you want, and you could donate it there.”

  He suddenly remembered her family situation. “Or just give it to your sister. You said she lost her husband a few months back. Maybe she can throw a little extra Christmas cheer in her kids’ stockings this year.”

  It was apparently the right thing to say. Her eyes softened and the smile she gave him was as sweet as a summer evening. “Oh. You are a very good man, Rafe Santiago.”

  This was the second woman who had said that to him in the past hour. He wanted to tell her he was far from good but he wasn’t willing to explain all the reasons why.

  Instead, he shoved the hammer into the pocket of his jacket and folded up the ladder.

  “Show me where to start.”

  * * *

  If she had an ounce of sense, she would tell him to move along, that she didn’t need his help.

  Yes, it would be a lie. She needed his help rather desperately but she didn’t want to need his help.

  This man was dangerous. She didn’t mean that in a physical sense. Though he radiated a sense of implacable strength and barely leashed violence—he had probably done very well for himself in the military—she sensed he wouldn’t hurt her. Or anyone else in her family, for that matter.

  She was incredibly drawn to him and she didn’t want to be. For one thing, the timing was horrible with all the other plates she had spinning. For another, he was just too big, too tough, too male for her to be at all comfortable entertaining this unwilling attraction.

  “I did mention I’ve only got a few hours before I have to pick up Joey, right?”

  With a start, she realized he had asked her a question and was waiting for an answer. How long had she been standing there staring at him?

  “Yes. Sorry. My mind, er, wandered.” Into areas she had absolutely no intention of sharing with him.

  “Any idea where you’d like me to start?” he asked again.

  Hope drew in a breath. This was stupid. If she wanted to prove to her sisters she could handle the responsibility for running The Christmas Ranch, she needed to use her brain. She couldn’t afford to turn away an offer of help simply because she was too attracted to the man making the offer—especially when he didn’t want to take a salary for his work and insisted she donate it to a needy cause instead. How much more perfect could he get?

  “If you’re sure, the fence around the petting zoo has a few slats that need to be replaced. Once you finish that, we can bring the reindeer over from the other pasture and get them settled in.”

  She eyed him up and down, trying not to notice the breadth of his shoulders or the way his jacket hugged narrow hips. “You’re not really dressed for kneeling in the dirt,” she pointed out. “It might be muddy, especially after the uncertain weather of the past few weeks.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Everything is washable. I even have work gloves in my SUV, believe it or not.”

  “I appreciate a man who is prepared. I just came back from a trip to the lumberyard and you should find plenty of supplies in the back of my truck. I can drive closer to the pasture to unload it.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She climbed back into her truck, grateful again for whatever crazy impulse had prompted her to buy the pickup in Salt Lake City just a few days earlier instead of renting a small compact car for her stay.

  Had it really only been a few days since she had landed from Africa? She couldn’t believe her life had changed so much in such a short amount of time.

  He met her at the pasture after she backed the truck up as close as she could manage, then started unloading the lumber she had purchased to replace the damaged section.

  Rafe immediately started tearing off the broken, weather-rotted slats, as if he had done this sort of thing before.

  “How does your typical Idaho cattle rancher end up dipping his toes into the reindeer business?” he asked while he worked.

  She smiled a little. “I told you how much my uncle Claude loved Christmas. He had a friend in Montana who got a couple of reindeer and talked him into trying it.”

  She remembered how much her uncle had loved introducing children to the usually docile creatures—starting with his nieces. “My sister wants to sell the reindeer. I don’t know how she can. They’re like family now.”

  She felt guilty all over again that she hadn’t been here these past few years since Claude died to help with the Star N and The Christmas Ranch. She didn’t know whether she could have made any difference in the balance books but she would have liked to try.

  “Neither of my sisters wanted me to open the ranch this year. Safe to say, they are both quite opposed to it. I thought we all had wonderful memories of working here, but apparently I was the only one who really enjoyed it. Funny, how individuals can remember the same events very differently, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose it’s all about point of view. We all filter our situations through our own unique lens, which is shaped by our history, personality, experiences.”

  She nodded at the insight. “Exactly.”

  “Six guys on the same mission can tell very different stories in the debrief. It’s an interesting phenomenon.”

  She wondered about his background. If he had been in the military for twenty years, she could only imagine the stories he might tell.

  She found Rafe an incredibly fascinating man—and not only because she liked how he looked and the way he moved. She couldn’t help being intrigued with a man who would give all that up to take care of a seven-year-old kid.

  “When you showed up, you said you needed something physical,” she said. “Fo
rgive me if I’m jumping to conclusions, but you seemed upset. Is everything okay?”

  His hands tightened on the hammer and he may have pounded just a little harder than before but other than that he showed no emotion. “Not really. I just came from the jail, visiting my sister. I try to go a couple times a week.”

  “Oh, that must be tough. I’m sorry. How is she doing?”

  Surprise flickered in his gaze for just a moment, as if he hadn’t expected the question.

  “She’s holding up okay. She knows she’s in this mess because of her own choices and that she can’t get out of prison time. It’s just a matter of how long she’ll be in, at this point, and that’s entirely up to the judge.”

  “That must be tough, especially when she has a cute little boy who needs his mom.”

  “Maybe she should have thought about that before she made a string of really stupid choices that led her where she is.”

  She might have thought his words cold and unfeeling, if not for the shadows in his gaze and the thread of pain she heard twisting through his tone.

  “Your plan is to stick around until her sentencing?”

  He hammered a little harder. “Yeah. I can’t say I’m thrilled about it but it makes the most sense. Joey has been doing well in school this year, which is something of a miracle, judging by his past record. The school counselor and principal met with me last week and both suggested it might be best not to start him at a new school until after the Christmas break. Since that coincides with Cami’s sentencing a few days before Christmas, I guess that’s the plan.”

  He was silent for a moment. “I haven’t really been there for her over the years. I guess the least I can do is stick around right now when she needs a little moral support.”

  Oh. She could really lose her head over a man like him.

  Not that she intended to let herself. On a strictly emotional level, he made her nervous. She liked being in control of most situations, which was probably why she typically dated rather passive men who let her take the lead in their relationships.

  She had a feeling Rafe wasn’t much of a follower.

  Not that she intended to put that theory to the test. She could accept she needed him to help out here at The Christmas Ranch but she simply had no time for a relationship—and certainly not with a man whose personal life was even more tangled than hers right now.

  They were done far earlier than she would have expected. “That was quick. You do good work. Maybe you should think about becoming a builder now that you’ve left your seafaring ways behind.”

  A muscle worked in his jaw, and she couldn’t tell if he wanted to smile or frown at her.

  “I’ve still got an hour before I need to pick up Joey from school and bring him back here. Is there something else I can do in that amount of time?”

  “My checklist is longer than Santa’s right now. Everything needs attention. This morning, I was thinking the top priority should be probably be the main building. We call it the St. Nicholas Lodge. This is where you’ll find the ticket office, the gift shop, the concession stand where we sell hot chocolate and roasted chestnuts, that sort of thing. It used to be an old barn until Uncle Claude fixed it up. That was years ago, right after we came to live on the Star N.”

  His expression seemed tense suddenly, though she couldn’t begin to guess why.

  “Things are starting to fall apart inside the building,” she went on. “I noticed a few of the tables were wobbly and some of the chairs have lost their legs. The whole place just needs basic attention.”

  “I picked up the same thing outside when I was walking around earlier. Why don’t I do a quick inventory to see what needs to be done inside? Since I’m heading back into town anyway to pick up Joe, we can stop by the hardware store and pick up any other supplies I might need before we head back here.”

  She smiled, grateful all over again for his help. Having him on her side helped make the whole undertaking seem a little less daunting. “Excellent. I like a man with a plan.”

  Something hot and intense flashed in his gaze for only a moment then was gone. Still, just seeing it there sent heat rushing to her cheeks. She knew she must be blushing, the curse of her fair skin.

  She turned away, hoping he would think her rising color was from the cool wind that had just picked up and was playing with a stray lock of hair that had fallen from her ponytail. “Come take a look inside. When you see how much work needs to be done in only nine days from now, you might be sorry you ever offered to help.”

  Chapter Six

  Rafe followed Hope, trying not to notice how well she filled out the soft pair of old blue jeans she wore or the enticing swing of her ponytail that made him want to pull all that wavy tangle of blond hair free and wind it around his fingers.

  He needed to remember the reason he was here. He had an obligation to this woman and her sisters dating back seventeen years—an obligation that firmly superceded any inclination he might have to ogle her lush curves.

  He followed her into the building, which seemed dark and musty and cold.

  She flipped a switch and a couple of big light fixtures made up of entwined elk antlers illuminated and warmed the cavernous space divided into a ticket counter, a small area with display cases that looked like it held old holiday paraphernalia, another area with empty shelves that likely held a gift shop, a large throne-like chair in one corner that was probably Santa’s domain and two huge river rock fireplaces that dominated each wall. A massive spruce tree had been set up in one corner but was currently undecorated.

  “It’s impossible to keep this place warm enough, as you might have guessed. We run both fireplaces during the season and it’s still drafty in here, unless the place is packed. The rest of the time, we try to get by with the industrial-size space heaters, which seem to do okay.”

  Though the space was large, it was quite comfortable and he imagined that children and adults would probably find it very appealing.

  “This is nice.”

  “Thanks. Everything could use a coat of new paint but we don’t have time for that. Maybe next year.”

  Would she still be here the next year? From all she had said about her history, she seemed to like to wander.

  “You said the tables are a little wobbly?”

  “Yes, and we’ve got a couple of chairs that somehow lost their legs while they were stored over the summer. Oh, and I noticed the armrest on Santa’s chair has come loose.”

  If someone had told him a month ago that he would find himself in a place called St. Nicholas Lodge in rural Idaho, repairing Santa’s chair, he would have called them crazy. His life had taken some really crazy twists and turns over the years but this had to be one of the craziest.

  “I’ll take a look.”

  “Great. Thank you. Do you need something to write down what you need in the way of supplies?”

  “That wouldn’t hurt.”

  She disappeared for a moment through a door behind the ticket counter and emerged with a pad and pencil. “Here you go. When you’re done, find me in the office back there. I’m still in the middle of taking inventory of the gift shop stock left over from last year so I can see what else we need to order.”

  “Got it.”

  She disappeared into the office and he wandered through the building, taking note of what needed to be fixed, prioritizing things as he went into columns under urgent, important and long-term.

  When he finished, the list was longer than he expected but most items were things that could wait. He made his way behind the ticket counter and paused for a moment in the doorway, watching her.

  Even though they had only been separated for fifteen or twenty minutes, he was taken by surprise all over again by how lovely she was, rather wild and untamed-looking with her stunning blue eyes and that mane of blond curls. H
e could only imagine what an exotic creature she must have appeared in her travels in Morocco and Thailand.

  She was looking at something on the desk and he could tell by the furrows in her forehead and the tension in her shoulders that it upset her.

  As far as he could tell, she wasn’t crying but she still looked sad. He should leave her alone. She wouldn’t appreciate being spied on in a moment of distress. He was about to turn away and head back outside but she sensed his presence and turned before he could escape.

  “Oh,” she said, her voice a soft exclamation. “Hi.”

  He cleared his throat. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. Sorry. I just found a picture in a drawer while I was looking for a receipt. It brought back a lot of memories.”

  He moved closer to stand beside the desk and found an old snapshot of three girls. She and her sisters, he realized. They looked very much like he remembered from that botched rescue. Maybe a little older but not much. They were standing around an older couple, the man in a Santa suit and the woman dressed as Mrs. Santa.

  “Cute.”

  “That’s Uncle Claude in the Santa suit and Aunt Mary as Mrs. Santa.” She smiled a little. “That was about a year after we came here, when The Christmas Ranch started becoming what it is today. I’ve never been so busy. I think Claude and Mary purposely gave us a million things to do on the ranch that Christmas so we wouldn’t have time to brood. Genius, really.”

  “Brood about what?” he asked, even though he obviously knew the answer.

  “Oh, you know. The first Christmas without our parents. Our dad was killed on Christmas the year before that picture and our mom died of cancer just a few months later.”

  He should tell her.

  The inner voice prompted him loudly that now would be the perfect time but he pushed it away. She didn’t need to know he had been there. If she did, she might not let him help and he suddenly found he wanted to, more than he would have believed possible a few hours earlier.

  “That’s tough,” he said in a noncommittal sort of way.