Christmas in Three Rivers: Three Rivers Ranch Romance Novella Collection

by Isaacson, Liz

  “In the new year,” Grace said, her slate blue eyes dancing with light. He wanted to reach out and tug on one of her sandy blonde curls, the way he had in history class all those years ago. He fisted his fingers instead.

  “I’m her head pastry chef,” Grace continued, a note of pride in her voice.

  Jon grinned at her. “You go to school the way you wanted to?”

  “In New York and everything.”

  “That’s real great, Gracie.”

  She stiffened at the childhood endearment, and Jon’s smile faltered. His confidence plummeted, and he suddenly wanted to collect his guitar and head inside for his cup of coffee. “Well, I should go.”

  “Oh.” She shuffled sideways. “Okay.”

  He grabbed his guitar as he passed the rocking chair, all thoughts of bringing his coffee to the patio and playing while his morning off slid on by vanishing with the presence of Grace. He wasn’t sure why he was running away, only that he didn’t want to play catch-up right now.

  He paused at the door leading to the basement, where he temporarily lived with Brett. He turned back to Grace. “It was real good to see you.”

  She smiled at him, driving his pulse to near erratic proportions. “You too, Jon.”

  He nodded and slipped inside, his thoughts volleying around his mind with the speed of a bullet. He couldn’t make any of them settle long enough to do more than breathe and walk. The door snicked closed behind him, and he forced himself to move into the galley kitchen to the right.

  Don’t look back, don’t look back, he told himself as he reached for the coffee pot and poured himself a cup with slightly shaking hands.

  By the time he added sugar and brought the mug to his lips, he allowed himself to glance out the glass door.

  Grace had gone.

  Relief and regret flowed through his bloodstream simultaneously. Really? He aimed the question toward the heavens. He hadn’t wanted to come to Three Rivers. Made that clear to everyone. His parents. Brett. God.

  But, in the end, he’d come, because he’d felt like maybe in Three Rivers he could find the piece of his life that had been missing.

  He just hadn’t expected it to be Grace Lewis.

  Is that why you led me here?

  God stayed strangely silent this time, which only unsettled Jon further.

  A couple of hours later, the scent of chocolate filled the basement. Probably the whole ranch. Jon had steadfastly refused to leave the couch, where a sports reel had been playing for hours. His coffee had long gone cold and his stomach roared with the want of baked goods.

  He’d heard footsteps in the kitchen above him for hours, but now he heard them moving down the stairs. Sure enough, a knock sounded on the door next to the kitchen.

  “Come in,” he said, thinking of how he would’ve acted if the person on the other side of the door had been Kelly. In fact, she regularly brought dinner down to him and Brett and neither of them got off the couch for her.

  Jon knew, though, as soon as the door opened, that the bearer of delicious food was not Kelly.

  “Heidi wanted me to bring some samples around.” Grace perched on the edge of the couch, a plate overflowing with three different types of brownies. His mouth watered, and not just from the sight of the chocolatey goodness.

  But from the woman holding it. Her skin held the hint of the summer sun’s kiss, and he wanted nothing more than to touch it. His gaze settled on her lips as he wondered if she’d taste as sweet as the concoctions she’d brought.

  “Jon?”

  He blinked and snapped himself out of his fantasies. “Which do you recommend?”

  “You should try them all.” Her eyes held that mysterious sparkle, the one that had first captured his attention in high school. Memories flooded him now. Memories he’d only been containing behind a thin wisp of plastic wrap because Grace wasn’t physically in the room with him.

  “Which first?” he ground out through a tight throat.

  “The German chocolate is my favorite.” She extended the plate closer to him, and he selected a particularly gooey brownie.

  As he bit into it, he definitely decided that life in Three Rivers had just improved drastically.

  Grace watched Jon eat her brownies, supreme satisfaction singing through her when he moaned. “Good grief, Gracie,” he said. “These are fantastic. You made these?”

  She didn’t even mind that he’d used her childhood nickname. She wasn’t sure why annoyance had slipped through her earlier, though as she mixed eggs and milk with flour and cocoa she’d figured it out.

  “Gracie” was who she’d been in Oklahoma City. Once she moved to Dallas, she’d given up the nickname and hadn’t looked back. But somehow, Jon calling her Gracie sang to her soul in a way nothing had since she’d arrived in New York and begun her dream of attending the Culinary Institute.

  “It’s my recipe, yes,” Grace said. “Heidi added a secret ingredient to the mint one.” She picked up one of the treats and passed it to him as he licked his fingers. Desire dove through her. She wanted his fingers in hers as they once had been, to pass through her hair as they once had, to stroke the side of her face right before he kissed her—as they once had.

  She cleared her throat, relieved Jon seemed absorbed in devouring the brownies so he couldn’t see the rising flush in her face.

  “You okay?” he asked, and she flinched.

  She nearly threw the plate of brownies at him and fled. “It’s hot down here.”

  Jon watched her for a beat past comfortable, almost like he knew the temperature had nothing to do with the heat spiraling through her core. “What’s that last one?”

  “Double-chocolate fudge.”

  He groaned. “That might do me in.” Still, he reached for the treat, and Grace noticed the size of his hands. Large, and calloused, and capable. When he drew back, she felt a sense of loss that made no sense.

  She needed to go. Head out to the administration building—apparently the portable trailer on the end of the row she’d seen earlier—and pass out the rest of the treats to the cowhands. And come lunch, they’d all come up to the house to sample the cookies that Chelsea, Kelly, and Heidi were now mixing together.

  Go, she told herself as Jon finished eating. Go now.

  But she didn’t move. Something magnetic emanated from Jon, pulled her in, kept her close.

  “How long you in town?” he asked.

  “I live here now,” she said. “I moved here a few weeks ago to be Heidi’s pastry chef.”

  A frown drew down his eyebrows and his focus slipped back to the TV. “Hm.”

  “You still in Oklahoma City?”

  “Sometimes,” he said, an answer that left her unsatisfied. He seemed closed off now that he’d eaten—completely the opposite of how most men reacted after they’d been fed something delicious.

  Grace stood. “Well, come on up for lunch. We’ll have sandwiches, salad, and more cookies than anyone can eat.” She started for the glass door, almost desperate to escape when only moments ago she hadn’t wanted to leave.

  Her warring emotions almost drowned out Jon when he said, “What are you doin’ for dinner?”

  She spun, her heart back in her throat, her hope spiraling to ridiculous proportions. “Oh, I’m usually in bed by dinnertime.” She gave a light laugh. “Getting up at three a.m. does that to a girl.”

  He stood now, his lean legs and strong arms more apparent when caged by low ceilings and close walls. “What time will you be done here, then?”

  “I don’t know. Sometime this afternoon, I suppose.”

  He moved closer, his blue eyes turning navy as he stalked closer. “I—Let’s go grab something to eat whenever you’re done. Catch up on our lives.”

  Grace couldn’t help the smile that slipped across her face. Jon saw it, and added his to it. “Okay?”

  “Sure, okay.” She ducked her head, fumbled for the doorknob behind her, and finally spilled into air that wasn’t filled with the de
lectable scent of sawdust and cotton and all things delightfully Jon.

  By the time lunch came and went, the cookies baked and eaten, and three batches of cupcakes had been mixed, baked, frosted, and taken around for samples, Grace felt ready to drop. She hadn’t worked this hard since opening her own shop.

  She loved the work though. Realized she’d missed it these past months as she closed things up, sold her lease, and moved to the Texas Panhandle.

  “So, we’ve got the three types of brownies.” Heidi bent over a list at the counter while Kelly washed dishes. Chelsea had left an hour ago to tend to her children, and Grace slid onto the barstool next to Heidi.

  “I can do a blonde brownie too,” Grace said. “And a key lime bar. That will give you five bar options.”

  Heidi added them to the list. “That should be plenty, don’t you think?”

  “With cookies and cupcakes, I definitely think so. Remember, it’s a bakery. You’ll be doing breads and pies too.”

  Heidi nodded, a worried expression crossing her face. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and bit it as she took notes. “So you’ll be doing all the sweet stuff. And I’ll do the breads. You said maybe five varieties per day?”

  “Right,” Grace said. “We’ll do a pie of the day too. It’ll make the workflow easier. Specific cupcake flavors too. And some staples. For example, we’ll always have these brownies and cookies. And you’ll always make white, wheat, and sourdough bread. The other two can rotate. That kind of thing.”

  Heidi’s pencil flew across the page. “Okay, yes,” she said. “All right.” She put down her pencil. “It’s been so long since I went to school. What would I do without you? I’m so glad Chelsea called you.”

  Grace smiled at Heidi, a kind woman who had given a lot to others over the years, if Chelsea was to be believed. And Grace believed her. “Me too, Heidi.” She stretched her arm over Heidi’s shoulders and gave her a side hug. “We’ll get everything figured out. We have almost three months before you open.”

  Footsteps came down the hall, and Grace glanced up in time to see Jon emerge.

  “Hey, Jon,” Kelly said easily. “Enjoy your day off?”

  “Smelled so good up here, I almost went mad.” He gave her a playful grin. “Other than that, it was just fine.”

  She laughed and pointed to the fridge. “Not cookin’ tonight. But there’s some of that beef and broccoli left over from last night.”

  He shook his head, and panic poured through Grace. Would he announce they were going out? What would Heidi think then?

  Grace wasn’t sure why she cared. She was an adult—almost twenty-seven years old. She could go to dinner with whomever she liked, Jon included.

  “I’m goin’ into town for dinner,” he said, his eye catching hers.

  “Ooh, do you have a date?” Kelly asked, more interested than Grace thought she ought to be. But she’d learned that Brett and Jon had been living in the basement for going on four months, and she had no idea if Kelly had been trying to set Jon up or not.

  “Sure do,” Jon said, puffing out his already impressive chest. “And I didn’t need your help this time, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am?” Kelly abandoned her work and stared at him. “Who is it?”

  “Someone special,” he said, stepping toward the door. “And I’m gonna be late, Miss Nosy.”

  “Jon,” Kelly called after him. “Who is it?”

  “I better go too,” Grace said so she could walk out with Jon.

  “See you tomorrow, dear,” Heidi said absently, her attention back on her list. “Was eight o’clock okay?”

  “Totally fine,” Grace confirmed before she followed a laughing Jon out the door and onto the deck. She’d whip up the blondies and key lime bars before she came out to the ranch in the morning. She’d certainly have time.

  She made it to the lawn and started toward where she’d parked her car, Jon at her side. “Thanks for not saying anything about….” Grace trailed off, not quite sure how to finish.

  His hand brushed hers, and fire licked up her arm. Another brush, and he held on this time. “I know how to keep important things to myself,” he said.

  “Oh, am I important?” Grace teased.

  He squeezed her hand. “You were once. I’m interested in seeing if you can be again.” He paused, making her stall too. “Can we do that, Gracie? See if this could be our second chance?”

  Warmth filled Grace from top to bottom from the kindness in his tone, the hope etched around his eyes. She reached up and pulled his cowboy hat down an inch or two. “Sounds good to me, cowboy.”

  He growled, the sound playful and sexy, and Grace giggled as she danced away from him. “When did you start wearing a cowboy hat anyway?”

  “’Bout the time I came to Texas, I reckon. The summers here are brutal. The ball cap wasn’t cutting it.”

  Grace floated toward her car, her new life in Three Rivers brighter than ever, despite the darkness she’d brought with her from Dallas.

  Jon’s nerves seemed frayed, like he’d stuck them in a blender on high. He almost turned around and went back to the ranch twice. But the thought of spending the evening hungry and with only Brett for company made his fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

  He just couldn’t believe Grace had walked right back into his life. He’d barely started to get to know her before her family moved, and he certainly didn’t have much to offer her besides a nomadic lifestyle and days filled with long hours.

  Happiness sang through him that she’d been able to attend culinary school—something she’d told him she wanted to do the very first time they’d met. Well, she’d told the whole English class—he wasn’t special—but he’d felt like she was speaking directly to him that day.

  Jon also hadn’t been on a date worth talking about in a while, despite Kelly’s attempts at fixing him up with the single women in town. They’d been fine, nice, but not memorable. He wanted fireworks, electricity, excitement.

  He’d felt all of that with Grace, then and now. “Doesn’t mean you’re gonna get married,” he muttered to himself as he came to a stop behind her. He’d told her to choose where she wanted to go; he’d follow her.

  She turned right, and his stomach tightened. There were only two restaurants to the right, and neither of them appealed to him. He just didn’t understand how anyone could think kimchi tasted good. Or at least okay. In his mind, sour cabbage should be given to hogs. In fact, he had fed it to hogs in the past.

  Thankfully, Grace drove past the Korean restaurant and pulled into the steakhouse. Donna’s on Main Street was definitely superior, but at least Jon could get a burger here. Or maybe a steak sandwich…. His mind revolving around food, he forgot to obsess over possible dinner conversation topics or how he could kiss Grace after only a few hours of face-to-face time.

  He got out of the car and joined her. “You’ve eaten here before?”

  “Once,” she said, peering up at him. “Is this okay? You’d prefer somewhere else.”

  “This is fine, Gracie Lou.”

  She made a face and moaned. “I’m okay with Gracie, I guess, but not Gracie Lou.”

  “Really?” He held the door open for her, his body reacting when hers moved closer, brushed by him, and entered the restaurant. “But you used to like—” He silenced himself before he could bring up the memories she’d rather forget. But how could she forget that he’d called her Gracie Lou right before he’d kissed her for the first time?

  Back then, she’d blushed and ducked her chin, just like she had in the basement when she’d brought him the brownies.

  His stomach, now a cold stone, weighed him down as the hostess led them to a booth and placed menus in front of them.

  “I’m just Grace now.” She ignored her menu and added a one-shouldered shrug to her statement. “I don’t know why. Just feels like me.”

  “Just Grace it is.” But Jon secretly mourned the loss of Gracie without letting any emotion bleed onto his face. “So
you went to New York City. Tell me about that.”

  Her face lit up and she put her elbows on the table as she leaned forward. She began to talk about creams and puddings and something called a ganache. Jon wasn’t exactly sure what she was talking about, but he just liked listening to the sound of her voice. Even after they’d finished eating and he’d given her a hug good-bye and driven back to the ranch, the sweet timbre of her voice rang in his ears.

  That was when he knew he was in trouble. After all, he didn’t live in Three Rivers and Grace had just moved to town.

  Grace went through the drive-through to get her daily fix of caffeine. A pan of blondies and a jelly roll pan of key lime bars rode in the backseat, the smell mixing with her dark roast coffee and making her mouth water.

  She again enjoyed the leisurely drive out to the ranch—until she saw the sign and turned onto the dirt road. Then the coffee she’d finished seemed to turn to tar in her stomach. She’d had a great time with Jon the previous night—he’d starred in her dreams as the heroic cowboy carpenter that would sweep her away to live a fantastic life together—and the thought of seeing him again made her…nervous.

  Once around the bend, the new construction came into view. Three men worked on the roof, and Grace identified Jon easily. His tall frame straightened, his gaze fixed on her car. He smiled and lifted his hand in a welcome wave. She did the same, trying not to frantically wave her hand like an excited puppy’s tail.

  She couldn’t be that obvious. She’d arrived early again, and she removed the baked goods she’d prepared that morning and balanced them on the roof of her car. She put a few of each kind on two of the paper plates she’d brought and headed for the construction site.

  This isn’t too obvious, is it? she wondered as she tromped through the dust. She assured herself that she’d also planned to take some over to Courage Reins, where the brownies had been well received yesterday. The owner, Pete Marshall, had told her to come back any time with any kind of sweet. When Grace had mentioned his reaction to Chelsea, she’d laughed and said, “I have him on a strict diet right now. His blood sugar is out of control.”