A Cold Creek Noel

by RaeAnne Thayne

  Not far from the house, the drive forked. About a city block down it, he saw a smaller clapboard home with two small eaves above a wide front porch.

  He couldn’t help thinking it looked like something off of one of the Christmas cards the clinic had received, a charming little house nestled in the snow-topped pines, with split rail fencing on the pastures that lined the road leading up to it.

  “Can we ride the horses while we’re here?” Jack asked, gazing with excitement at a group of about six or seven that stood in the snow eating a few bales of alfalfa that looked as though they had recently been dropped into the pasture.

  “Probably not. We’re only renting a house, not the whole ranch.”

  Ava looked out the window at the horses too, and he didn’t miss the sudden light in her eyes. She loved horses, just like most nine-year-old girls.

  But even the presence of some beautiful horseflesh wasn’t enough. “You said we were only looking at it and if we didn’t like it, we didn’t have to stay,” she said in an accusatory tone.

  Oh, she made him tired sometimes.

  “Yes. That’s what I said.”

  “I like it,” Jack offered with his unassailable kindergarten logic. “They have dogs and horses and cows.”

  A couple of collies that looked very much like the one currently resting in his clinic watched them from the front porch of the main house as he pulled into the circular drive in front.

  Before he could figure out what to do next, the door opened and Caidy Bowman trotted down the porch steps, pulling on a parka. She must have been watching for them, he thought. The long driveway would certainly give advance notice of anybody approaching.

  She wore her dark hair in a braid down her back, topped with a tan Stetson. She looked rather sweet and uncomplicated, but somehow he knew the reality of Caidy Bowman was more tangled than her deceptively simple appearance would indicate.

  He opened his door and climbed out as she approached his vehicle.

  “The house is just there.” She gestured toward the small farmhouse in the trees. “Why don’t you drive closer so you don’t have to walk through the snow? Ridge plowed it out with the tractor this morning so you shouldn’t have any trouble. I’ll just meet you there.”

  “Why?” He went around the vehicle and opened the passenger door. “Get in. We can ride together.”

  For some reason she looked reluctant at that idea, but after a weird little pause, she finally came to where he was standing and jumped up into the vehicle. He closed the door behind her before she could change her mind.

  The first thing he noticed after he was once more behind the wheel was the scent of her filling the interior. Though it was a cold and overcast December day, his car suddenly smelled of vanilla and rain-washed wildflowers on a mountain meadow somewhere.

  He was aware of a completely inappropriate desire to inhale that scent deep inside him, to sit here in his car with his children in the backseat and just savor the sweetness.

  Get a grip, Caldwell, he told himself. So she smelled good. He could walk into any perfume counter in town and probably get the same little kick in his gut.

  Still, he was suddenly fiercely glad his house would be finished in only a few weeks. Much longer than that and he was afraid he would develop a serious thing for this prickly woman who smelled like a wild garden.

  “Welcome to the River Bow Ranch.”

  He almost thanked her before he realized she was looking in the backseat and talking to his children. She wore a genuine smile, probably the first one he had seen on her, and she looked like a bright, beautiful ray of sunshine on an overcast day.

  “Can I ride one of your horses sometime?”

  “Jack,” Ben chided, but Caidy only laughed.

  “I think that can probably be arranged. We’ve got several that are very gentle for children. My favorite is Old Pete. He’s about the nicest horse you could ever meet.”

  Jack beamed at her, his sunny, adorable self. “I bet I can ride a horse good. I have boots and everything.”

  “You’re such a dork. Just because you have boots doesn’t make you a cowboy,” Ava said with an impatient snort.

  “What about you, Ava? Do you like horses?”

  In the rearview mirror, he didn’t miss his daughter’s eagerness but she quickly concealed it. He wondered sometimes if she was afraid to hope for things she wanted anymore because none of their prayers and wishes had been enough to keep Brooke alive.

  “I guess,” she said, picking at the sleeve of her parka.

  “You’ve come to the right place, then. I bet my niece Destry would love to take you out for a ride.”

  Ava’s eyes widened. “Destry from my school? She’s your niece?”

  Caidy smiled. “I guess so. There aren’t too many Destrys in this neck of the woods. You’ve met her?”

  Ava nodded. “She’s a couple years older than me but on my very first day, Mrs. Dalton, the principal, had her show me around. She was supernice to me and she still says hi to me and stuff when she sees me at school.”

  “I’m very glad to hear that. She better be nice. If she’s not, you let me know and I’ll give her a talking-to until her ears fall off.”

  Jack laughed at the image. Ava looked as if she wanted to join him but she had become very good at hiding her amusement these days. Instead, she looked out the window again.

  “Here we are,” Caidy said when he pulled up front of the house. “I turned up the heat earlier when I came down to clean a little. It should be nice and cozy for you.”

  How much work had she done for them? He hoped it wasn’t much, even as he wondered why she was making this effort for them when he wasn’t at all sure she really wanted them there.

  “So all the rattraps are gone?” he asked.

  “Rats?” Ava asked in a horrified voice.

  “There are no rats,” Caidy assured her quickly. “We have too many cats here at the River Bow. Your father was making a joke. Weren’t you?”

  Was he? It had been quite a while since he had found much to joke about. Somehow Caidy Bowman brought out a long-forgotten side of him. “Yes, Ava. I was teasing.”

  Judging by his daughter’s expression, she seemed to find that notion just as unsettling as the idea of giant rodents in her bed.

  “Shall we go inside so you can see for yourself?” Caidy said.

  “I want to see the rats!” Jack said.

  “There are no rats,” Ben assured everybody again as Caidy pushed open the front door. It wasn’t locked, he noticed—something very different from his security-conscious world in California.

  The scent of pine washed over them the moment they stepped inside.

  “Look!” Jack exclaimed. “A Christmas tree! A real live one of our very own!”

  Sure enough, in the corner was a rather scraggly pine tree as tall as he was, covered in multicolored Christmas lights.

  He gazed at it, stunned at the sight and quite certain the tree hadn’t been there a few hours earlier. She had said the house was empty, so somehow in the past few hours Caidy Bowman must have dragged this tree in, set it in the stand and strung the Christmas lights.

  She had done this for them. He didn’t know what to say. Somewhere inside him another little chunk of ice seemed to fall away.

  “You didn’t need to do that,” he said, a little more gruffly than he intended.

  “It was no big deal,” she answered. In the warmth of the room he thought he saw a tinge of color on her cheeks. “My brothers went a little crazy in the Christmas tree department. We cut our own in the mountains above the ranch after Thanksgiving, and this year they cut a few extras to give to people who might need them. This one was leftover.”

  “What about the lights?”

  “We had some extras lying around. I’m afraid this one is a little on the scrawny side, but paper garland and some ornaments will fix that right up. I bet your dad and Mrs. Michaels can help you make some,” she told Ava and Jack. As he might ha
ve expected, Jack looked excited about the idea but Ava merely shrugged.

  He wouldn’t know the first thing about making ornaments for a Christmas tree. Brooke had always taken care of the holiday decorating and his housekeeper had stepped in after her death.

  “Come on. I’ll give you the grand tour. It’s not much, as you can see. Just this room, the kitchen and dining room and the bedrooms upstairs.”

  She was too modest. This room alone was already half again as big as one of the hotel rooms. The living room was comfortably furnished with a burgundy plaid sofa and a couple of leather recliners, and the television set was an older model but quite large.

  One side wall was dominated by a small river rock fireplace with a mantel made of rough-hewn lumber. The fireplace was empty but someone—probably Caidy—had stacked several armloads of wood in a bin next to it. He could easily imagine how cozy the place would be with a fire in the hearth, the lights flickering on the tree and a basketball game on the television set. He wouldn’t even have to worry about turning the volume down so he didn’t wake Jack. It was an appealing thought.

  “Through here is the kitchen and dining area,” she said.

  The appliances looked a little out-of-date but perfectly adequate. The refrigerator even had an ice maker, something he had missed in the hotel. Ice from a bucket wasn’t quite the same for some reason.

  “There’s a half bath and a laundry room through those doors. It’s pretty basic. Do you want to see the upstairs?”

  He nodded and followed her up, trying not to notice the way her jeans hugged her curves. “We’ve got a king bed in one room, a queen in the second bedroom and bunk beds in that one on the left. The children won’t mind sharing, will they?”

  “I want to see!” Jack exclaimed and raced into the room she indicated. Ava followed more slowly, but even she looked curious about the accommodations, he saw.

  The whole place smelled like vanilla and pine, fresh and clean, and he didn’t miss the vacuum tracks in the carpet. She really must have hurried over to make it ready for them.

  “There’s a small bathroom off the master and another one in the hall between the other bedrooms. That’s it. Not much to it. Do you think it will work?”

  “I like it!” Jack declared. “But only if I get the top bunk.”

  “What do you think, Ava?”

  She shrugged. “It’s okay. I still like the hotel better but it would be fun to live by Destry and ride the bus with her and stuff. And I get the top bunk. I’m older.”

  “We can work that out,” Ben said. “I guess it’s more or less unanimous. It should be great. Comfortable and spacious and not that far from the clinic. I appreciate the offer.”

  She smiled but he thought it looked a little strained. “Great. You can move in anytime. Today if you want. All you need are your suitcases.”

  The idea of a little breathing space was vastly appealing. “In that case, we can go back to the inn and pack our things and be back later this afternoon. Mrs. Michaels will be thrilled.”

  “That should work.”

  “Can we decorate the tree tonight?” Jack asked eagerly.

  He tousled his son’s hair, deeply grateful for this cheerful child who gave his love unconditionally. “Yeah. We can probably do that. We’ll pick up some art supplies while we’re in town too.”

  Even Ava looked mildly excited about that as they headed back outside.

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Caidy said suddenly. “What are you doing all the way down here, you crazy dog? Just want to make a few new friends, do you?”

  She spoke to an ancient-looking collie, with a gray muzzle and tired eyes, that was sitting at the bottom of the porch steps. Caidy knelt down, heedless of the snow, and petted the dog. “This is Sadie. She’s just about my best friend in the world.”

  Ava smiled at the dog. “Hi, Sadie.”

  Jack, however, hovered behind Ben. His son was nervous about any dog bigger than a Pekingese.

  “She’s really old. Thirteen. I got her when I was just a teenager. We’ve been through a lot, Sadie and me.”

  “Sadie and Caidy. That rhymes,” Ava said unexpectedly, earning a giggle from Jack.

  “I know, right? My brothers used to call the dog and I would think they wanted me. Or they would call me and Sadie would come running. It was all very confusing but we’re used to it now after all these years. I didn’t name her, though—the rancher my parents got her from had already given her a name. By then she was already used to it so we decided not to change it.”

  He saw a hint of sadness in her eyes and wondered at the source of it as she hugged the dog. “Do you know, she was a Christmas present the year I turned fourteen? That’s not much older than you, Ava.”

  His daughter looked thrilled that someone would think she was anywhere close to the advanced age of fourteen instead of nine and he suddenly knew Caidy had said it on purpose.

  “For months I’d been begging and begging for a dog of my own,” she went on. “We always had ranch dogs but my brothers took over working with them. I wanted one I could train myself. I was so excited that morning when I found her under the tree. She was so adorable with a big red bow around her neck.”

  He pictured it clearly, a teenage Caidy and a cute little border collie puppy with curious ears and a wagging tail. He could certainly relate to the story. When he had been a boy, he had begged for a dog every year from about the time he turned eight. Every year, he had hoped and prayed he would find a puppy under the tree and every year had been another disappointment.

  He held the door open. “Ava, you can sit in the middle next to Jack so we can make room for Sadie.”

  “Oh, no. That’s not necessary. She’s probably wet and stinky. We can walk. It’s not that far.”

  “If there’s one thing we don’t mind in this family, it’s wet stinky dogs, isn’t that right? Just wait until we bring Tri out here to romp in the snowdrifts.”

  Both children giggled, even Ava, which filled him with a great sense of accomplishment.

  He turned his attention away from his children to find Caidy watching him, her hand still on her dog’s scruff and an arrested expression in her eyes. He felt a return of that tensile connection of earlier, when he had walked out of the shower room to find her standing in the hallway.

  The moment stretched between them and he couldn’t seem to look away, vaguely aware of Jack and Ava climbing into the SUV with their usual bickering.

  Finally she cleared her throat. “Thanks anyway, but I’m not quite ready to go. I just need to dust out the two spare bedrooms.”

  This wasn’t going to work. He didn’t want this sudden attraction. He didn’t want to feel this heat in his gut again, the sizzle of his blood.

  He thought about telling her he had changed his mind, but how ridiculous would that sound? I can’t stay here because I’m afraid I’ll do something stupid if I’m in the same general vicinity of you.

  Anyway, now that he had seen the charming little house, he really didn’t want to go back to the cramped quarters of the inn. He would just have to work hard to stay out of her way. How tough could that be?

  “The place looked fine. We can dust,” he said. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “We Bowmans are a proud lot. Though we might not be in the landlord business as a regular thing, I’m not about to let you stay in a dirty place.”

  He decided not to argue. “I’ll check on Luke while we’re in town. If I feel like he is stable enough to be here, I’ll pick him up and bring him out with us when we come back.”

  She smiled her gratitude and he felt that inexorable tug toward her again. “Thank you! We would love that, wouldn’t we, Sadie?”

  The dog nudged her hand and seemed to smile in agreement.

  “Luke is her great-grandson,” she explained to the children. “So I guess I’ll see you all later. I’m glad the house will work for you.”

  Space-wise, the house was perfect. Neighbor-wise, he wasn�
�t so sure.

  After he loaded up the kids and started down the gravel drive, he glanced in the rearview mirror. Caidy Bowman was lifting her face to the pale winter sun peeking between clouds, one hand on the dog’s grizzled head.

  For some ridiculous reason, a lump rose in his throat at the sight and he had a hard time looking away.

  Chapter Five

  For the next few hours, Caidy couldn’t shake a tangled mix of dread and anticipation. Offering Ben and his family a place to stay over the holidays had been a friendly, neighborly gesture. She was grateful those cute kids would be able to have the fun of sneaking downstairs Christmas morning to see their presents under their very own tree and that Mrs. Michaels could cook a proper dinner for them instead of something out of the microwave.

  Even so, she had the strangest feeling that life on the ranch was about to change, maybe irrevocably.

  It was only for a few weeks, she told herself as she finished mucking out the stalls with Destry while Sadie plopped on her belly in the warm straw and watched them. She could handle anything for a few weeks. Still, the strange, restless mood dogged her heels like the collies in a thunderstorm as she went through her Saturday chores.

  “You ladies need a hand in here?”

  Destry beamed at her father, thrilled when he called her a lady. She was, Caidy thought. Her little girl was growing up—nearly eleven now and going to middle school the next year. She didn’t know what she would do then.

  “Since we’ve got your muscles here, why don’t you bring us a couple new straw bales? I’d like to put some fresh down for the foaling mares.”

  “Will do. Des, come give your old man a hand.”

  The two of them took off, laughing together about something Destry said in answer, and Caidy again felt that unaccountable depression seep over her.

  Her brother didn’t really need her help anymore with Destry. She had been happy to offer it when the girl was young and Ridge had been alone and struggling. More than happy, really. Relieved, more like, to have something useful to do with her time, something she thought she could handle.