Boughs of Holly

by Shanna Hatfield

  She heard Seth make a choking sound, like he swallowed a chortle at the mention of prune juice and pudding. She’d thoroughly studied Sam’s file and made note of his likes and dislikes.

  “Holly it is,” Sam said, giving her an innocent smile. “Do you sing like a nightingale?”

  “Only if they sound like they are being strangled to death underwater.”

  Sam chuckled and Holly glanced over at Seth, pleased to see he wore a smile.

  Two hours later, after they’d eaten dinner of a tasty casserole one of the church women had sent over, Holly glanced outside, concerned by the amount of snow that continued to fall. “I think I better head back home. I don’t want to wait until it gets any later in case I have a problem.”

  Seth stopped in the midst of placing a plate in the dishwasher and glared over his shoulder at her like she’d lost her mind. “You can’t drive anywhere in this, especially not in your toy car. You won’t even make it to the highway in that thing.”

  Her chin stubbornly jutted upward. “I made it here without any problem.” He didn’t need to know how long it had taken her to navigate her way up his horrendous road, though.

  “Which is exactly why you shouldn’t expect two miracles in one day,” Seth argued as he continued loading the dishwasher. “You can stay the night. There’s another bedroom across the hall from Pops. Or, if you want quiet and peace, you can sleep in my room. It’s down there.” He pointed to the hallway on the other side of the breakfast nook.

  “I’d rather go home.”

  “I’d rather you would, too, but I can’t let you drive in this, Holly. It’s not safe, especially not in your car. Do you even have snow tires on that thing? Do you own a pair of chains?”

  “Chains?” she asked, deciding perhaps Seth Stafford knew slightly more about driving in winter weather than she did. With a resigned sigh, she stared at him as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “Fine, I’ll stay, but only if I sleep in the room by Sam’s. If he needs help in the night, I’ll take care of him.”

  “I can sit up with him again.” Seth ran a dishrag over the top of the counter then tossed it in the sink.

  For the first time since she’d walked in the house, Holly noticed the dark circles beneath Seth’s eyes, the weariness that clung to him like an ill-fitting garment. “When was the last time you had more than an hour or two of sleep without interruption?”

  “The day before Pops got hurt.”

  “Well, consider this a night’s reprieve and take advantage of it.” Holly walked out of the kitchen and back to Sam’s room before Seth had the chance to say anything further.

  Once Sam slept peacefully, she wandered into the family room, but Seth wasn’t there. She checked in the kitchen, finding it empty. She strolled to the entry where a light glowed from a room she’d noticed earlier that looked like an office.

  Seth sat in a chair at a big desk, laptop open in front of him and chin propped in one upraised hand, fingers braced against his cheek as he slept.

  Holly couldn’t help but smile as she walked into the room, closed the laptop, and then touched Seth on the shoulder. He startled and jumped, but gathered his wits quickly.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to doze off. Is Pops all tucked in?” he asked, rising to his feet and stretching his arms over his head, twisting from one side to the other.

  Holly glanced around the room rather than allow her gaze to rest on Seth’s all-too-attractive form. “Yes. He’s already asleep.” She moved back around the desk and walked with Seth as he made his way to the family room and down the hall to the guest bedroom.

  “Will this be okay?” he asked, turning on the light in the room.

  Holly stepped inside and looked around.

  White. So much white.

  White walls, white curtains, a vintage white chenille bedspread. Even the wrought-iron headboard had been painted white as had the oversized dresser and desk. An overstuffed wingback chair, upholstered in white and cream striped fabric, sat in the corner next to an antique floor lamp with a white shade. There was even a white French phone on the nightstand by the bed.

  Yet, the bursts of color from the framed prints of roses on the walls, the embroidered pillows on the bed, the crocheted afghan tossed over the chair’s arm, and the pile of quilts on a bench pushed beneath the window made the room feel welcoming and full of country charm.

  She smiled at the glittering chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. She wondered if Seth had to duck to walk beneath it because it hung low and he was so tall.

  When she remained silent, staring at the room, Seth glanced at her. “I know it’s probably outdated, but my grandma redecorated this room not long before she passed away. Pops can’t bring himself to change a thing in here and I can’t either.”

  “No, you shouldn’t,” Holly said, reaching out to Seth, prepared this time for the jolt that rocketed through her when their hands connected. She squeezed his fingers and smiled. “The room is perfect just the way it is.”

  He graced her with one of his rare smiles and motioned to a door she hadn’t noticed. “You’ll have to share the bathroom with Pops.”

  “That’s not a problem at all.” Holly couldn’t wait to crawl in bed, turn on one of the antique lamps, and snuggle beneath a colorful quilt with a book. She had one in her purse she’d started a few weeks ago and wanted to get back to reading.

  However, she couldn’t very well sleep in her sweater and jeans.

  “Do you have a shirt or something I could borrow?” she asked, turning to Seth as he slowly backed out of the bedroom with an odd look on his face.

  “Shirt?” he asked, appearing confused.

  Holly pointed to her sweater. “I don’t have anything to change into. Although I realize now I should keep an overnight bag in the car, I didn’t plan on getting stuck out here. I’ve got nothing, not even a toothbrush.”

  “Oh, right,” Seth said, continuing to retreat into the hall. “I can find a shirt for you. I might even be able to dig up a toothbrush. I think Pops bought several the last time we went to one of those big warehouse supply stores.”

  “Perfect.” She turned away from the doorway as Seth left the room and moved over to the bed. She tossed aside the throw pillows and turned back the bedspread, eager for a good night’s rest.

  Seth returned a few minutes later. “Will this work?” He handed her a faded green T-shirt.

  Holly took it from him and held it out, smiling as she read, “I don’t snore, I dream I’m a tractor,” plastered in a bold font across the front of it. Her gaze lifted to Seth’s. “Do you snore?”

  He scowled. “Of course not. That was a joke from Pops. However, from time to time, he sounds like a semi-truck with jammed gears being driven by an enraged bear, so be warned.”

  “Noted and warned,” she said, draping the shirt over one arm. She took the toothbrush and tube of toothpaste Seth held out to her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. If you need anything, just holler. Are you sure you don’t want to take my room?”

  “No. I’ll be fine right here.” And she would be. Better than fine, actually. In spite of what the shirt said, Holly had an idea her dreams would be filled by a handsome cowboy with pale blue eyes and a head full of thick brown hair.

  Chapter Four

  Seth slowly came awake, stretching in bed before he opened his eyes. The clock said it was barely past four.

  For the first time in days, he felt rested following a full night of sleep. After he told Holly good night and checked on Pops, he’d taken a shower and gone straight to bed even though it was barely past eight.

  Exhausted, he’d fallen right to sleep. Now, as he stretched again in his big king-sized bed, the tight knots in his shoulders had relaxed and he no longer felt like a heavy weight sat on his chest.

  It couldn’t be Holly’s presence that made the difference. The woman was still a twitterpated nuisance and a menace in his opinion. But she was good with his grandfather and he coul
d tell she cared about her patients.

  Much to his surprise, instead of putting up a fuss about her presence, his grandfather had summoned his sweetest smile and poured on the charm. Honey practically oozed from the old codger’s mouth as he dished out one compliment after another to Holly.

  She took it all in stride, but Seth wondered what his grandfather was up to. After listening to him and Nurse Hatchet go at each other for two days, he’d expected Pops to battle his assigned nurse, too.

  Hopefully, Pops realized Holly was the key to his recovery.

  Even if Seth didn’t like her, he appreciated her presence there, the purpose she served in helping his grandpa heal.

  Seth rolled out of bed and got dressed, knowing he wouldn’t go back to sleep. In his sock-covered feet, he silently made his way to the other end of the house and checked on his grandpa. Pops slept peacefully, snoring softly as he rested on his back. Seth tucked the blankets around him then walked past the guest room door.

  “What are you doing up?” Holly asked in a voice thick with sleep.

  The sound of it stirred something in Seth he didn’t want stirred. Something better left alone. Something foreign and entirely unwelcome.

  He backed up a step and stood in her doorway in the muted light trickling into the hall from the light he’d left on in the family room. “Go back to sleep. I was just checking on Pops.”

  “Is he okay?” she asked, concern edging away the sleepy rasp.

  “He’s fine. Can’t you hear the tractor rumbling?” he teased.

  “Yes, I believe I can,” she said, and he sensed her smile in the lighter tone of her voice.

  “You don’t need to get up this early, Holly. If we’re smart, we’ll rest while the cagey ol’ lion sleeps. Sleep as long as you can.” He pulled her door shut then went to the kitchen where he made a pot of coffee. He opened the back door and fed Bullet and Pistol then filled a bowl with fresh water for the dogs.

  He took a disposable foil pan of cinnamon rolls from the freezer and moved a casserole from there to the refrigerator. They could eat it for dinner if it thawed by then.

  Drew and Drake’s parents had sent over a huge box of food, things Seth could freeze and use when he needed. As he placed two cinnamon rolls on a plate and stuck it in the microwave, he made a mental note to do something nice for the Miller family. They’d been especially helpful and supportive since Pops’ injury.

  Seth set the rolls on the table, poured a cup of coffee, and nabbed a fork before he sat down and bowed his head, offering thanks for a new day, for the life he had at Stafford Ranch, and for his grandfather. He even said a little prayer for Holly that her time spent at the ranch would be a blessing to her, since her presence was a blessing to them, even if he didn’t want her there.

  He’d just lifted the cup of coffee to his lips and taken a sip when Holly padded into the kitchen wearing his T-shirt and a pair of fuzzy purple socks. The woman didn’t appear to notice him as she made her way toward the coffee pot.

  Long, long legs stretched from the ridiculous socks to where the shirt hit her mid-thigh. Untamed red curls were everywhere, flowing around her face and down her back. Even without any makeup on her face, she was breathtakingly beautiful. So incredibly beautiful.

  Seth gulped the hot liquid and coughed, pounding his chest with a fist as it burned all the way down.

  “Oh! I thought you’d gone out,” Holly said, crossing her arms in front of her and coming to a halt by the fridge as he continued beating on his chest and coughing. “Didn’t I hear the door open and close?”

  He nodded as his coughing subsided. “I fed the dogs,” he wheezed.

  “I’ll just, um…” she backed toward the door, one hand tugging the hem of the T-shirt downward.

  Seth stood and their gazes fused. Her eyes, currently a dark seal gray, held a hint of humor along with sparks of what could only be described as apt interest. A smile played around the corners of her mouth, one he’d previously thought too wide, but suddenly seemed entirely kissable.

  Holleluiah Nightingale Jones looked warm and soft, rumpled and feminine, and so perfect standing in his kitchen. Too perfect.

  Unsettled by the unbidden emotions swelling in him, by thoughts he had no business thinking, he scowled. Clearly, he needed to put some effort into a social life if his reaction to his grandfather’s nurse was any indication. That had to be the reason his palms felt damp and everything in him wanted to close the distance to Holly so he could take her in his arms.

  “Wait right there.” He spun around and hurried into his bedroom. From the back of his closet, he pulled out a heavy dark blue robe he’d received as a gift years ago. In fact, it had been so long ago, he couldn’t even recall who’d given it to him. He may have even worn it once before hanging it in the back of his belongings. For a man who dressed as soon as he got up and was on the go until he took a shower before bed, he had no need for robes and fancy pajamas.

  He carried the robe back to the kitchen and found her sipping coffee from a mug as she leaned against the counter. “Here. Put this on,” he said, holding the robe in front of him like a shield.

  She set the mug of coffee on the counter and turned around, sliding her arms into the sleeves. The robe could have wrapped around her twice, but she tied the belt and shrugged down into the plush fabric.

  As though they had a mind of their own, his hands reached out and lifted her hair from inside the robe. His fingers brushed across the skin of her neck and he saw her shiver.

  Her hair might as well have been blazing coils for the way his hands burned. Pops had taught him when he was young that playing with fire would only result in his getting hurt. So why, then, did he have the urge to spin her around and see if he could fan the tiny embers he’d seen flickering in her eyes earlier into a roaring flame.

  Despite knowing better, he let one of her silky curls wrap around his index finger. It was softer than he imagined, silky and thick. Determined to tamp down whatever insanity had overcome him this morning, he stepped back and motioned to the pan of cinnamon rolls.

  “My friends’ parents own the café in town. They sent out the cinnamon rolls. Help yourself. If you nuke them about ten seconds, they’re pretty tasty.” Seth returned to the table, in need of the distance between him and Pops’ hottie nurse.

  Why couldn’t she have looked like Nurse Hatchet? Why did she have to be so gorgeous and, although it pained him to admit it, nice?

  Holly warmed up a cinnamon roll then carried it and her coffee to the table, taking a seat two spaces down from him, so they both could look outside. The yard light on a tall pole at the end of the garage illuminated the snow that continued to fall at a steady pace.

  “It’s really coming down out there. Do you think I’ll be able to get out today?”

  Seth shook his head. “Not in your car. It might be stuck here until the spring thaw.”

  Her head whipped up and she glared at him, a bite of cinnamon roll halfway to her mouth. “Please tell me you are joking.”

  “Not really. Unless this snow all melts, your little toy car won’t make it past the end of the yard, let alone the end of the driveway. Even then, it would be buried up to the hood in mud.”

  She stared at him a moment then returned to eating her breakfast. “I didn’t plan on staying here the whole time I take care of your grandfather.”

  “I know, but it doesn’t make sense for you to make that long drive every day, especially with all the snow we’re predicted to have in the next few weeks. You’re just asking for trouble driving that car on bad roads.” Seth knew he should clamp his mouth shut, but words continued pouring out. “We’re happy to have you stay as long as necessary. It’ll save you driving more than an hour twice a day.” He cast a quick glance her direction then shifted his gaze outside, wondering what demon had possessed him and taken control of his mouth. Words he had no intention of saying had spilled out faster than he could capture them.

  Holly appeared to consider his co
mments as she took a long sip of her coffee. “It might be best. I’ll need to run it by my supervisor, of course. If I do end up staying, I’ll need to gather some personal things. I can’t exactly wear this…” Her hand flicked over the collar of the robe, “for the next two months.”

  Seth had a few ideas on what exactly she could wear, but managed to keep his thoughts to himself. He cleared his throat in an effort to clear his mind. “After you talk to your supervisor, if you decide to stay, I’ll help you get your stuff here.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that,” she said.

  Seth hurriedly stuffed the last two bites of cinnamon roll in his mouth, drained his coffee cup, and set the dishes in the sink. “I’ll be back in later. If you need anything in the meantime, text me.” He scribbled his cell phone number on a piece of paper and left it on the counter then went to the back door where he pulled on a heavy sweatshirt, insulated coveralls, chore boots, and a warm, fleece-lined hat that covered his ears. He checked the pockets to make sure he had his gloves then turned to go out the door, only to find Holly standing in front of it, staring out at the snow.

  “It really is lovely,” she whispered, as though speaking at regular volume would somehow break the winter spell she seemed to be under.

  When she lifted her face and looked back at Seth, his heart thudded to a halt before jumpstarting into double-time. He’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted to kiss her at that moment. He took a step closer and breathed in the fragrance of peaches blended with a light vanilla scent. Enthralled and tantalized by the summery aroma, he took a step closer to her as they watched the snowflakes get bigger, falling rapidly from the dark sky.

  Unable to be near her and keep his wits, he stepped around her and opened the door. “Make yourself at home until Pops wakes up.”

  With a curt nod, he shut the door and strode out to the barn, hoping the frosty air would cool his amorous thoughts. How would he put up with two months of this torment? It was more than any man should be forced to endure.

  Chapter Five