“Okay, but promise you won’t forget about the wish. Do we still get movie night with Krista here?”
“I don’t see why not. Maybe we can let her pick the movie though.”
“That seems fair,” she said, “but can I give her some choices since we have so many movies?”
“You do that, but since it’s Christmas, let’s watch one of those,” he said as she scooted out of the kitchen.
He shook his head. Thank God he’d picked up the pony last month. The odds against finding a Welsh pony for the price he’d paid had been astronomical. Franz had carved a wooden horse and painted it to look like the one in the stable. Ethan would wrap it and put it under the tree with a few sugar cubes and a note to go to the stable.
This would be their first and possibly their last Christmas in this house since it belonged to Krista. As much as he’d like to believe she’d forgive him, and they could get on living the life he’d dreamed of ten years ago, the truth was, he was the interloper here. She’d be well within her rights to kick him and Leah to the curb. He prayed she’d let them stay on the ranch, but even if he gave her all of his share, it wouldn’t come close to covering what his father had stolen from her.
Before his dad’s stroke, he and Leah had lived in the manager’s house, the one he’d grown up in. That house was his, free and clear, but he couldn’t expect to stay in it on Seven Oaks if she didn’t want him to.
Krista entered the kitchen, and he smiled. Coppery tresses cascaded to her shoulders.
“It was a wig,” he said, stating the obvious. “I thought you’d really cut it.”
“I thought about it, but Mom loved my hair. She called me her good luck penny. Theo had me keep it tied back and under control.” She walked over to the island. “The house looks exactly the way I remember it. I see Jonesy got some of the Christmas decorations up before she left.”
“She did. Let me guess; Leah filled you in on everything out in the barn.”
“Pretty much. She seems overly concerned about the turkey and the cookies.”
Krista sat on a stool at the kitchen island and reached for one of the cookie cutters sitting in a basket there. “I remember these. Mom used to bake sugar cookies and let us cut out the shapes.”
“I seem to recall you covered in sugar and flour,” he said, unable to hide the affection in his voice. “For the record, I like your red curls, too. Every autumn when I look at the leaves in the oak trees, I see you,” and miss you more than you’ll ever know. “We still have to put up the tree. If the storm lets up, we can go and cut one down tomorrow. If it doesn’t we’ll go Wednesday.”
“I haven’t had a real Christmas tree since I lived here.”
“I suppose you had an artificial one—tell me it wasn’t pink or blue.”
“It wasn’t,” she said and giggled, “although they did have a few red and white ones at the arena—team colors. We didn’t have a tree at all. Theo wasn’t Christian. Hockey was his religion; the only thing he believed in was the game.”
“That must’ve been rough. We’ve always had a real tree, but it’ll be our first time celebrating Christmas in this house. Dad wasn’t big on decorating for the holidays. We lived in the manager’s house. I moved back in there when Leah came to live with me. Dad wasn’t thrilled having a noisy toddler around.”
“But your father must’ve changed his attitude. She’s a terrific little girl.”
“Krista, this is my dad we’re talking about. He was a foul-tempered jerk when you were here, and got worse after you left. Nothing made him happy except riding around the ranch surveying his dominion,” he answered unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice, and noticed how she shrunk away from him.
“That’s too bad,” she said, rubbing her hands together anxiously. “What about her other grandparents?”
“Neither Milly nor Tom had any family left. I’m all Leah has.”
“Not if she gets her wish,” she said nervously.
“What wish?”
“The one she made to the angel and asked me to make as well. I gathered you were in on it, too.”
“Oh, the pony; I’ve taken care of that.”
Krista reached out to touch him, the gentle pressure of her hand on his arm filling him with desire.
“She didn’t wish for a pony, Ethan,” she said gravely. “She wished for a new mommy. Apparently, she thinks Mama Schneider’s angel is hard of hearing since she got a puppy last year instead of the mommy she asked for. I met him upstairs. He seems to like my bed.”
Ethan shook his head. Damn, this wasn’t a situation he’d expected, but he should have. Ever since her friend Sally’s mother had remarried last year, the child had been fixated on families. When her attention had turned to the pony, he thought the phase was over.
“Rascal likes every bed, but close your door and he’ll stay out. He sleeps with Leah at night. And before you start lecturing me about dogs and hygiene, just remember you slept with at least two of the barn cats. But as far as the wish goes, are you serious?”
“Yup. Apparently she’s tired of waiting and has asked again—even got me to ask for her. Unless you’ve got someone waiting to assume the role, you’d better have a talk with her. I’m sure the pony will be a big hit, but she’s going to be very disappointed when the angel gets it wrong again this year. Now, what can I do to help?”
Ethan swallowed awkwardly. He did have someone in mind for that role, the same person he’d chosen ten years ago, but he wasn’t sure she’d believe him, and now that she knew about Leah’s request, she’d be more inclined than ever to assume he was just asking her to satisfy his daughter’s wish. Damn. Why did fate keep kicking him when he was down?
“How about making a salad to go with the pizza? The mixed greens and the rest of it are in the fridge.”
“Leah told me Jonesy won’t be back until January. I’m sorry I’ll miss her. I don’t mind cooking while I’m here. I used to know my way around this kitchen, but it looks like you’ve made a few changes.”
“Yeah, we modernized last year,” he answered, glad to change the topic until he could think clearly. “Things are probably more or less in the same place. There’s enough food in the freezer and the pantry to feed an army for a year, and I picked up bread, fruit, and vegetables, along with wine and that turkey.” He winked. “It’s going to take a long time to get that image out of my mind.”
“Yours and everyone else’s. I just hope no one captured it on their cellphones.”
He laughed. “It’s Appleton, the Internet doesn’t work any better now than it did when you lived here. Most folks don’t even own cellphones. If you want to help, I won’t say no. Leah knows where everything is since she spends a lot of time in here.”
“So I heard. She tells me you make a mean macaroni dish.”
“I can follow the directions on the box.” He watched her tear the lettuce and slice the other vegetables. “This is nice—you and me here together again. I’m glad you’re finally home, Krista. I’ve missed you.”
She set down the knife. “I find that hard to believe,” she said softly, without accusation. “You never wrote, never called, and never answered my letters. When I left here, you and your father wiped me from your lives.”
“I didn’t, Krista. You have to believe that. For Leah’s sake, can we talk later tonight after she’s in bed? Seven Oaks is your home. You belong here.”
Chapter Five
Krista stood in front of the gas fireplace, lifted the glass of merlot to her lips, and took a sip. Most of the house was just as she remembered it, including her bedroom. The walls had been repainted, but the bed and furnishings were the same ones she’d used all those years ago. The collection of teddy bears she’d had to leave behind sat on the shelf above her bed just as they always had. It had been hard not to break down and cry when she’d seen them. She’d have expected Uncle Charles to get rid of everything that would’ve reminded him of her.
Her jewelry box, the one w
ith the ballerina who twirled around, had been sitting on her dresser, her mother’s engagement and wedding rings as well as the diamond earrings Luke had given her for their tenth anniversary inside it. She’d wanted those items when her mom had died, but Uncle Charles had said they belonged to the estate. It was hard to understand his sudden change of heart.
Thanks to Leah, the evening had been pleasant and relaxing. Surprisingly, the pizza had been tasty, not at all greasy as she’d expected. While Leah had offered to let her choose the movie, she’d deferred to the child, and they’d watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas. She’d enjoyed it almost as much as the little girl had. Maybe, when she got back to Ottawa, she could send her the storybook.
“She’s all settled in,” Ethan said, coming back into the room. “She’s a handful, but I wouldn’t have her any other way.” He picked up his wine glass and took a mouthful. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be able to get the tree tomorrow. It’s still snowing to beat the band.”
The power had gone out during dinner, and he’d gone out to the barn to turn on the generator. Thanks to it and the gas fireplace, the room was warm and toasty. “You can turn up the thermostat if you find your room cold. I filled the generator, and it can run for twenty-four hours on a tank.”
“Ethan, stop, please. The last thing we need to do is make small talk. You said we’d talk once she was in bed, and that’s now. What’s going on? This strange bequest makes absolutely no sense to me. You father accused me of trying to steal his birthright, and then he leaves some of it to me? He keeps my horse, even my damn teddy bears, and my Mom’s rings are in my jewelry box.” The lump of emotions in her throat threatened to choke her. “Why am I here?
“You’re here because this is where you belong. I wanted you to come home for Christmas. There’s no bequest in his will, Krista; there never was.”
“I don’t understand. The lawyer’s letter said … You had a lawyer lie to me? How could you?”
“Don’t get angry. I didn’t want to do this yet. I’d hoped we’d get to know one another again first, but I guess it’s better to get it all out in the open. There’ve been more than enough lies. Sit, please.” He indicated the recliner and sat across from her.
“You’d better have a damn good excuse for this,” she said, both hurt and angry. She’d known the pleasant interlude wouldn’t last, but she hadn’t expected it to end this way, nor this soon. So much for hoping she could somehow start a new life.
“I’m the one who kept your things,” Ethan answered quietly. “When he ordered me to get rid of everything that was yours, I packed it up and hid it in the attic. Your nutcrackers are up there, as well as your mother’s Christmas tree decorations—basically everything you left behind.”
“Why did you keep them?” Her anger had vanished at his words, replaced by confusion and regret.
“Because I hoped you’d come back one day. After you left, I tried to track you down. Dad said you’d gone to Montreal instead of Ottawa. It wasn’t until you married Theo that I got a line on you. Don’t you have a social media account?”
She shook her head. “No. I guess I spent enough time in Appleton to relish my privacy. I used the team one when necessary, but Theo was jealous … I can’t believe you convinced Uncle Charles to let you keep Princess. That mare is worth a lot of money.”
“I refused to let him sell her, and since your name was on the ownership, he didn’t have much choice. I kept her over at the Anderson’s and after a while, I think he forgot about her. I had Cooper clean and polish your saddle and tack, along with your boots. You’re a lot thinner than you were, but I assume shoe size stays the same?”
“It does,” she said overwhelmed by what he was saying. She swallowed awkwardly and swiped at the tears. “So, you invited me here for old time’s sake?”
“Yes, and to straighten out a few things. It’s never been the same around her since you left. I was hurt and angry when I came home, and you were gone. I couldn’t believe you’d go like that without a word to me, and you never wrote—”
“That’s not true,” she interrupted him, the tears running down her cheeks faster now. “I sent you more than a dozen letters.”
“I never got them, Krista. Not the ones you sent to me in Vancouver nor the ones you sent from Ottawa.”
“How did you know I sent them, then?”
“Because I found them when I was cleaning out his room.”
“You found them?” She shook her head. “What do you mean, you found them?”
“He had a metal box under his bed. When I opened it, I found all of your letters to me, the ones I’d sent to you that he hadn’t mailed, and something else. I found Uncle Luke’s will.”
“Why on earth would he have done that? If he stole the letters, why keep them?
“I think his conscience wouldn’t let him destroy them—just like the will.”
“Dad’s will was read after the funeral. There were no surprises there. I suppose he kept it to gloat and remind him his empire was secure. Your father got everything. I was lucky he didn’t kick me out that day. At least he let me finish school.”
“The will read after the funeral wasn’t the most recent will. Uncle Luke made a new will after he married your mom and adopted you. Caswell drew it up, and Dad witnessed it. He knew exactly what was in it and that was the last thing he wanted.”
“I’m confused. Are you saying there was a newer will and the lawyer and your father suppressed it?”
“Yes.”
“Why would a lawyer do that?”
“For the two hundred and fifty grand my father was supposed to pay him. When Caswell, died, Dad figured he didn’t have to honor his promise, which was why he kicked you out when he did. Once you turned nineteen, he was afraid you’d question the will and someone else might know about the real one, but if you were gone … What Dad didn’t know was that Caswell’s partner knew the truth, too. Sawyer has been blackmailing Dad for years. I had him arrested six weeks ago when I found out about all this.”
“What did you find out?”
“That Uncle Luke left the controlling shares of the ranch not to my father, but to your mother and you. As the oldest, the main house was his, too.”
Krista stared at him, trying to believe what he was saying. She’d loved her step-father and had found the fact that he hadn’t made any provisions for her or her mother in the event of his death a bitter blow.
“Are you telling me all this is mine?” She waved her hands around to encompass the house. “Has been mine for the last ten years?”
He nodded. “This house is yours, as is 51 percent of the livestock and land. There was also a life insurance policy that went to the estate that should’ve been yours—the money he paid Caswell and Sawyer, money he told me he was sending to you each month to cover your expenses.”
“No one ever sent me a cent. The only money I had when I left here was the hundred grand from my mother’s insurance. It covered my education and living expenses. It was pretty much all gone by the time I graduated.”
“I know. What he didn’t pay out in blackmail money, he used to start a quarter horse breeding operation. You have to understand, I didn’t know any of this. If I had, I’d have combed the country until I found you. This ranch is your home. Leah and I can move back into the manager’s house as soon as I can get it fixed up. I want you to come back where you belong, Krista. Please think about it. I’ve talked to the lawyer about restitution…”
She nodded. “Please, no more. I need time to think, time to process all this.” She sipped the wine, the merlot suddenly as bitter as her tears. “Since I’m assuming none of this was in your father’s will, why say anything? You could have just kept quiet. I’d never have known.”
“But you wouldn’t have come home, and I really wanted you to come home. I needed to make this right.” He raised his glass to his lips, and finished his wine. “I put a box on the shelf in your closet. It’s got the letters in it I sent to you, letter
s my dad didn’t mail, and some legal documents. Read them, please?” He stood. “I’ll lock up before I go up to bed. Leah’s an early riser and this is a working ranch, one that’ll be doubly busy because of the snow. I won’t expect to see you in the morning, but if you don’t want Leah around, you can send her over to Aggie, Ian’s wife. She and the twins are living in my old house. The sidewalk will be shoveled.”
“I don’t mind watching Leah,” she said. “None of this is her fault, and enough Christmases have been ruined these past years, we don’t need to add another. Besides, I promised to bake cookies, and I keep my promises.
When I can.
She stood, the need to escape before she broke down completely, moving her to end this discussion quickly. “Thank you for telling me this, for being so honest. I always thought you were a man of integrity despite your father. Since you wanted me home, and I’m here, let’s make the most of this for Leah’s sake if not ours. Maybe there’s enough Christmas magic in the boxes upstairs to get us through the holidays. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I promise you one thing, no matter what I decide, Seven Oaks is and always will be your home, too.”
Finishing the wine in her glass, she said goodnight and headed upstairs to her room. Once there, she fell onto the bed, the floodgates opening as she mourned the father who hadn’t abandoned her after all. The ranch might be hers, but the problem was, the man at the heart of it, the man she’d loved all those years ago and still did, wasn’t. He’d said he wanted to make restitution and give her back her home—he hadn’t offered his heart.
* * *
The aroma of fresh coffee tantalized Krista’s taste buds. The room was dark, but she was wide awake, and considering her body was on Ontario time, she was two hours ahead of the game. She had a slight headache, no doubt the aftermath of the emotional maelstrom she’d suffered yesterday. At some point during the night, she’d awakened, cold and shivering. She’d gotten up, undressed and gotten into the pajamas she’d unpacked earlier.
Come Home For Christmas Page 4
