On a Snowy Christmas Night

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On a Snowy Christmas Night Page 7

by Debbi Rawlins


  “They’ll be fine,” he said carefully, not wanting to make her feel like an idiot by pointing out the obvious. Feed was always kept outside. What concerned him was that Annie had taken in another horse. He knew she had little money left to feed the animals she currently housed and had made the painful decision to refuse new rescues until she obtained more funding. The other thing was, the oats and corn wouldn’t go far and hay was cheaper. “Did Annie ask you to pick up those bags?”

  “No. It was a last-minute impulse when I stopped in town. I wanted it to be a treat for Caleb.”

  Jesse chuckled. “I see.”

  Her chin went up defensively. “Mr. Jorgensen at the feed and hardware store explained that Annie needs more hay—the alfalfa kind—so I placed an order. He thinks he can have it delivered in a couple days.”

  “You’re paying for that?”

  “Yes, I already wrote him a check.” Her defensiveness rose. “Safe Haven accepts donations.”

  “Hey, I’m not criticizing. Annie’s going to be thrilled.” So was Jorgensen. Business had been bad for everyone the past few years. Jesse wished the Sundance could contribute more hay to Safe Haven, but they’d already done what they could for the season. He liked that Shea had stepped in. Somehow her generosity didn’t surprise him.

  “I have the money,” Shea said, shrugging, then closing the back hatch. “That’s not a problem. As long as the weather cooperates, the delivery should come before Christmas Eve.”

  He looked up at the dark sky—lots of stars, a few clouds. A light snow was forecasted for tomorrow night, but not enough to worry about. “It’s real nice what you’re doing. Times have been tough for Safe Haven. If Annie needs help unloading, Trace and I will drive out there.”

  She gave him a long thoughtful look. “I heard you do a lot for them.”

  “Nah, not that much.” He wondered what Annie had said about him. He knew people talked since he’d returned home. They all had an opinion about why he wasn’t the same old Jesse, though Annie didn’t strike him as the type to gossip. He nudged his chin toward the house. “We had fried chicken and mashed potatoes tonight. Rachel’s keeping a plate warm for you.”

  Shea’s expression fell. “I wish she wouldn’t do that.”

  “Feed you?” He smiled when she carelessly shoved her hair away from her face and rolled her eyes. “What kind of reputation will the Sundance have if we starve our guests?”

  “I’m sure you have a stellar reputation. Your whole family is wonderful,” she said, then glanced away. “Jeez, I say I don’t want to be a bother and then I keep you out here in the cold.”

  “Such a hardship.”

  She slid him a hesitant look, saw he was teasing and a small smile tugged at her lips.

  Dammit, he had the sudden urge to kiss that shy, sexy mouth. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the house.”

  “You don’t have to—” They’d already moved in that direction, but she stopped, eyes wide, lips parted in awe. “That Christmas tree, it’s beautiful.”

  Jesse followed her gaze to the ten-foot pine he’d helped Rachel put up in the foyer. White lights glittered from the branches, five hundred of the tiny suckers—he happened to know because he’d bitched about having to string them. But looking at Shea’s unadulterated delight made the chore worth it.

  “It’s huge and so perfect. I’ve never seen one like it before.” She swung her gaze toward him. “That couldn’t have been there last night.” She paused. “Was it?”

  “That would’ve been pretty hard to miss.”

  “Trust me, I can overlook an elephant in the middle... Never mind.”

  “I cut it down this morning.”

  “You?”

  “Yes, me. I’m not as scrawny as I look.”

  “I didn’t mean—” The instant she saw he was teasing she smiled, something she didn’t do nearly enough. Not a real smile like this one that showed off her straight white teeth, or the pretty shape of her pink lips. She turned back to the tree, her face lit as if she were a kid who’d been visited by Santa. “Where did you find it?”

  “Not far from the trail we took yesterday. It’s McAllister land so it’s legal.”

  “I have mixed feelings about cutting down something so glorious.” She sighed. “I’m a hypocrite. I love being able to see it every night.”

  “If we don’t thin out the forest, nature will. We’ve had some bad lightning strikes that have taken down acres of trees. Had a wildfire this past August that wiped out half a hill of spruce and pine.”

  She stopped a few feet from the porch, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket, and just stared at the tree even though she’d started to shiver. “I like the red ribbons and candy canes.”

  “We used up the ornaments on the trees in the den and living room. Mom and Rachel tend to get carried away this time of year.”

  “Were the other trees up last night?”

  “Have been since the day after Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh, I’d love to see them sometime.” She shivered and hunched her shoulders. “If that would be all right.”

  “Come on before you freeze. The tree looks just as pretty inside as it does out here.” He took her by the elbow and gently urged her toward the steps before he did something stupid like wrap his arms around her.

  “I’m kind of hoping it snows for Christmas,” she said, pulling a hand out of her pocket to hold the railing.

  “We’re supposed to get some tomorrow night. Not much, only three or four inches.”

  “That sounds like a lot.”

  “You have four-wheel drive.” He glanced over his shoulder toward her car. “You’ll be okay.” Something unpleasant occurred to him and he stopped in front of the door. “You do know how to drive in snow?”

  She nibbled at her lower lip. “Guess I’ll find out.”

  “I hope you’re kidding.”

  “The roads will be plowed, right?”

  He studied her face. She had to be pulling his leg. Nobody came to Montana in the middle of winter unable to drive in snow. Except, she was beginning to look more uncertain by the second. Shit. “I’ll drive you tomorrow.”

  “Absolutely not.” She pulled away and grabbed the doorknob. “But thanks, anyway.” She hesitated. “Should I ring the doorbell?”

  He pushed open the door, tension coiling in his gut. He didn’t want to be the bad guy and bully her into accepting a ride. He’d mention something to Rachel and let her talk to Shea. This was her doing after all. Her guest.

  Once they entered the foyer and were met with a wave of warmth from the fireplace, he gave reasoning with her another shot. “At least plan to get back before dark so we don’t have to send out a search party.”

  “I can do that.”

  Her gaze was glued to the tree. Anyone would think she’d never seen one before. “Christmas must be your favorite time of year.”

  “Not really,” she said. “You?”

  “It was when I was a kid.” A lot had happened since then—his father’s death, the recession, going to war. “Rachel still gets excited.” He pulled off his gloves. “Don’t tell her Santa isn’t real. It would crush her.”

  Shea blinked and looked at him with a guileless expression. “Why would I do that? Santa is real.”

  Jesse saw the glint of humor in her eyes and something inside him shifted. Something that had been dormant a long time. Okay, so maybe there was a little magic in the season. “What did you say you did for a living again?”

  She sniffed, lifting her chin, exposing the slender column of her throat. “Excuse me, but even nerds can have senses of humor.”

  His gaze drifted to her top button right at the hollow of her throat. That was another thing about winter that sucked. Too many clothes. “Nerd was not what came to mind.” He raised his eyes and caught the faint blush that stole across her cheeks. “How about something hot to drink? Coffee, chocolate, brandy? I could use something.”

  “There you are.” Rachel c
ame from the dining room, a dish towel slung over her shoulder. “I was beginning to worry,” she said to Shea.

  “I’m sorry. I stopped in town.”

  “No problem. Dinner’s in the oven whenever you’re ready.” Rachel’s smile faded as she looked at Jesse. “I could’ve used your help in the kitchen. You know Hilda’s off for two weeks. That doesn’t make me the maid around here.”

  Jesse snorted. “Yeah, because I’ve been twiddling my thumbs all day.” He glanced pointedly at the tree, then slid Shea a private wink. Hard to tell if she understood that Rachel was only messing with him. “Where’s Trace? I’d like to see him walking around in an apron for a change.”

  “I heard that.” Trace’s voice came from the den, a second before the distinct clack of billiard balls bouncing off one another echoed through the first floor.

  “Rachel, Shea...” It was Jamie’s voice rising above the sound of male laughter. “I need backup in here.”

  “You play pool?” Jesse asked Shea.

  She shook her head and was already moving toward the staircase. “Rachel, thanks for keeping dinner for me...it’s so nice of you, but I wish you hadn’t gone to the trouble.” Her arms were pressed against her body as if she were trying to make herself smaller. “I’ve already eaten in town. But again, I appreciate your concern.” She swept a glance toward Jesse, then took a final look at the tree. “It was a long day. I think I’ll crawl into bed.”

  They watched her hurry up the stairs and disappear.

  “Hmm, a woman around here who doesn’t want to be any trouble,” Jesse murmured. “Imagine that.”

  “Yeah, you’re hilarious.” Rachel studied the empty landing at the top of the stairs. “Is she okay?”

  “I think so.”

  “Weren’t you guys talking for a while?”

  He nodded, his mind still trying to process what had just happened. She’d been warming up to him in the last few minutes.

  “You didn’t say anything boneheaded, did you?”

  Giving his sister a dry look, Jesse blew out a stream of air. Without another word, he turned around and left through the front door and headed for the solitude of the barn. Thinking about Shea was getting him in deeper and deeper. Hell, he knew better. He should’ve trusted his first instinct to keep as far away from her as possible.

  She might seem timid and fragile, like the animals he rescued, but she was a grown woman with her own mind. She didn’t need him.

  7

  “WHAT’S ALL THIS?” Dressed in the same battered parka as yesterday, her blond hair crammed under a woolen cap, Annie stopped in the middle of scooping grain when she saw Shea approach. She dropped the cut-out plastic milk jug she used as a scoop and moved toward Shea. “You’re an angel,” Annie said, relieving her of one of the cans of coffee. “Seriously, a damn angel.”

  Shea chuckled. “I have another can in the car. Some other things, too, that I’ll need help unloading. Take a look and tell me if I should move the car closer.”

  Annie stashed the coffee on a railing, and with her longer legs hurried ahead of Shea toward the SUV. She stared at the bags of oats and corn, not looking nearly as pleased as Shea had hoped.

  “I bought the wrong thing,” Shea said, trying to hide her disappointment. This was her second letdown of the day and it was only seven-fifteen. She’d come downstairs to find that Jesse had been called away an hour earlier to fly a rescue mission.

  “No, not at all.” Annie’s mouth curved in a gentle smile. “It’s just that...this feed probably won’t go as far as you’re expecting.”

  “Oh. No, I get that. This is just kind of a special treat for Caleb and the sick mares.” She hadn’t planned on blabbing about the hay delivery yet. It would’ve been fun to keep it a surprise, but she wanted to relieve Annie’s concerns. “Mr. Jorgensen from the hardware store is arranging for a truckload of hay in a couple days.”

  “A truckload?” Annie frowned. “How did you manage that?”

  “Nothing magical.” Shea shrugged. “I wrote him a check.”

  “Hay isn’t cheap, especially this time of year.”

  “It’s okay, Annie. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t have the money.” She almost touched the other woman’s arm. A totally natural display of comfort or affection, she supposed, just not for her.

  Annie covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes moist. Except her hand was gloved and she jerked it away, sniffed and said, “Ew.”

  They both laughed.

  “You’re getting a hug,” Annie said. “Too bad about my gloves.” She threw her arms around Shea before she could utter a word, and amazingly, it was okay. She didn’t get all squeamish like she normally did when someone got touchy-feely.

  Still, Shea pulled back first. “Jesse said he and Trace would come help unload if you need them.”

  “He knew about you doing this?”

  “After the fact.”

  Amusement gleamed in Annie’s eyes. “Sounds like you might be getting to Jesse.”

  “What?”

  “I swear, he’s said more to you in the short time you’ve been here than he has to anyone in a month.”

  “That can’t be true,” Shea said, feeling the heat crawl up her neck. Luckily, she heard a vehicle turn into the lot.

  Molly and Hank, the other new volunteers, pulled up in Hank’s late-model Ford pickup and parked closer to the barn. They were a middle-aged couple from Billings. At least Shea assumed they were a couple...she really wasn’t sure. They seemed nice, and eager to learn. That’s all she knew about them. Every free moment yesterday she’d spent with Caleb.

  Annie waved them over. “Good, we have help carrying these bags.” Her lips pursed, she turned back to Shea as they waited for the couple. “I wasn’t giving you a hard time about Jesse. If anything I’m glad he’s showing signs of coming back to life.”

  Shea still felt uncomfortable over how much she’d talked about Jesse yesterday, but she couldn’t exactly tell Annie to stop. It didn’t help that she was a little flabbergasted at what Annie’d actually said. “What do you mean?”

  “I didn’t know him before he went to Afghanistan, but the buzz around town is that he’s changed. He’s always been a quiet kind of guy. I’ve never thought much of it but you hear people who’ve known him his whole life talk and...” She shrugged and quickly switched her attention to Molly and Hank, who were walking toward them. “Obviously I’ve lived here too long,” Annie muttered with a self-deprecating frown. “Gossiping like an old lady. God help me.”

  The volunteers who Shea, Molly and Hank were replacing started arriving for their last day before the holidays. They all pitched in to carry the bags of feed, make coffee and cut up the homemade banana bread that Molly had brought. Shea tried to be patient and not seem rude through the small talk and early chores, but she would have much rather been spending time with Caleb. She’d always found the company of animals soothing, but there was something special about the roan.

  However, even Caleb wasn’t enough to keep her thoughts from Jesse and what she’d just learned about him. She wondered what would’ve happened last night if Rachel hadn’t shown up, or if the others hadn’t been playing pool in the next room. Would they have continued to talk? Maybe even sat down at the table together? It hadn’t occurred to her until she’d been lying in bed that when they were alone she was completely comfortable with him.

  Well, not completely...he did tend to make her heart beat a little faster than normal. And she was starting to become a bit obsessive about the cleft in his chin. And the way his smile always started off real slow, like he had a secret he couldn’t share.

  It wasn’t until close to noon that Shea had a chance to breathe without feeling guilty. The new volunteers were still learning the daily routines and she was starting to feel the stiffness of yesterday’s physical labor. When Annie suggested she take a break and give Caleb some oats, Shea didn’t object.

  She scooped a generous portion into a plastic pail a
nd carried it to his stall. For today, he was still getting preferential treatment and being kept in the stable with the sick mares even though Doc Yardley had given him a clean bill of health. Tomorrow he would be turned out to pasture with the rest of the horses. She hated the idea.

  For one thing, today the sky wasn’t as clear and blue. The clouds weren’t threatening, but it was overcast, the sun only intermittently breaking through, which meant the air was colder than yesterday.

  “Hi, sweetie.”

  At the sound of her voice, Caleb lifted his head, saw it was her and lowered his muzzle with his ears forward.

  Shea laughed. “Is that for me or do you smell these oats?” She faced him nose-to-muzzle and blew gently into his nostrils just as Annie had taught her. He promptly responded by lowering his head, and Shea grinned with delight at the gelding’s open display of friendship.

  “Look what I have for you.” His attention had already turned to the pail and she had to move quickly before he ended up sticking his muzzle too far in.

  She gave him his oats, felt guilty that she’d brought none for the mares on either side of him, though she hadn’t gotten permission to feed them. They’d both come to the shelter sick last week and had only just recovered.

  While Caleb ate, she went to the back of the stable to check on Maisy, an older bay mare who was being kept in isolation and treated for a parasitic infection. Her previous owners had thrown up their hands when the vet bills mounted. Safe Haven couldn’t afford the poor horse’s care, either, and if Shea let it, thinking about the myriad problems and expense of so many of the animals that had been abandoned, neglected or injured could really depress her.

  Instead, she focused on the good things the sanctuary was doing for their wards. Tomorrow Annie was going to review the individualized diets they provided, and in the evenings Shea was going to work on a computer program that would simplify the files and records to avoid mistakes by the volunteers.

  She heard Caleb trying to get her attention with his quiet nicker. “You ate too fast, mister,” she said, moving toward his stall. He looked at her with his large soft brown eyes and she sighed. “No, I can’t give you any more. Maybe later. But I do have another surprise. Annie says I can exercise you this afternoon. How would you like that?”

 

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