Between Christmas and Romance

by Shanna Hatfield

  He nodded, but kept his gaze fastened on the road in front of him. “Yep.”

  I waited for him to elaborate, but evidently, he didn’t feel inclined. But since I’d rather talk about him than me, I pressed ahead. “How long did you serve?”

  “Eight years.”

  A two-word answer. I was making progress. “Where were you stationed?”

  “Overseas.” He looked over at me then back at the road. “Most of the time was in Afghanistan and Syria.”

  “Oh,” I said, wishing I hadn’t pushed him to answer. Clearly, he’d been in war zones. From the tightness of his jaw (the one that wasn’t bruised) and the sound of his voice, I got the idea he preferred not to discuss this particular topic.

  For a few minutes, neither of us said anything. Then Tim cleared his throat. “You did a good job decorating your store. It looks festive.”

  “Thank you.” I offered him a smile, taking the olive branch he’d extended. “I have two high school students who work for me in the afternoons and they brought friends to help. Otherwise, I’d still be stringing lights and hanging garlands, trying to get ready for tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” his forehead furrowed in a frown.

  “Black Friday? You know, early morning shoppers full of caffeine and the need to find bargains.” Did he ever leave the ranch? Visit a city? Listen to the news? How could you turn on the television and not notice the gazillion Black Friday ads that had been airing the past few weeks?

  “What time will you open the bookstore?” he asked.

  “At six. I have two employees who’ll be there when we open and another who’ll come at eight. I plan to close early tomorrow because honestly, no one is going to be out shopping after mid-afternoon and we’ll all be worn out by then.” I both dreaded and anticipated the biggest shopping day of the year. I hoped we did a record business, but I also wanted people to walk inside my store and feel happy to be there. I should have probably worked on sprucing up a few more displays or something along those lines today, but I needed a break. Going to Aspen Grove Ranch had definitely not been on my agenda, but now that we were almost there, I was glad I came.

  “Nana mentioned you haven’t had the store long. Did you own a store before you moved back to Christmas Mountain?”

  “I’ve had the store about a year and no, I wasn’t in retail before I moved back. But I worked at Rudolph’s Reads when I was in high school and spent a lot of my childhood there, lost in the adventures of books.”

  He offered me a speculative glance. “You don’t strike me as the book nerd type. I picture you more as a cheerleader or star of the class play, maybe a beauty contestant.”

  I blinked at him, unable to formulate words when he had so accurately described my high school years. Well, I wasn’t a cheerleader, but I was in the class play and the beauty contestant thing was real. All too real.

  “Hmm. I must have guessed at least one of those correctly. I picture you as a little shy, but nudged into doing things outside your comfort zone.” He grinned. “How am I doing so far?”

  Too well to suit me, but I won’t tell him that. As far as me being nudged outside my comfort zone, it was more like shoved and pushed, or dragged unwillingly.

  “I picture you as an athlete, probably football or wrestling,” I said, envisioning a teen version of the burly man sitting on the other side of the pickup. “You probably had more friends than you could count, girls chasing you every time you turned around, and a devil-may-care attitude.”

  It was his turn to stare at me speechless. He finally looked back at the road and slowed down as we approached a turnoff with a metal Aspen Grove sign hanging in front of a pole fence. He turned onto the lane before he glanced back at me. “I think Nana has been talking about me way more than she should be.”

  “That wasn’t from your grandmother. Nancy only said you’d been in the service and came to the ranch when your grandfather passed away. Other than that, she hasn’t mentioned much about you.” Which I still found so strange. Had the woman known Tim would rub me the wrong direction? If so, that would be a good reason she’d basically kept him a secret. I still have no idea how I lived in Christmas Mountain for a year and never ran into him before. Then again, I got the idea he only left the ranch when forced or for supplies.

  I looked out the window in awe as he drove the pickup in front of a two-story log cabin home that looked like something out of a travel magazine. The porch that stretched across the front, complete with heavy pine rocking chairs, appeared so welcoming. A few resilient mums still bloomed in flowerbeds along the front of the porch and a large yard surrounded the house, although the grass was now a shade of winter brown. In the distance, I could see cattle and horses with the backdrop of the mountains behind them. It was so picturesque it nearly stole my breath away.

  “It’s fabulous, Tim. I had no idea the ranch would be so beautiful.” I continued gaping as he parked the pickup and turned off the ignition. There was a big barn, outbuildings, and a few horses in a corral.

  While I fumbled to unfasten my seatbelt, Tim hurried around the pickup and opened my door. “Welcome to Aspen Grove Ranch,” he said with a smile that made my insides begin to flutter.

  Chapter Four

  Hesitant to take the hand he held out to me, I finally placed my palm against Tim’s and braced for the sizzle I knew would strike the moment we touched. I was surprised Nancy couldn’t see the sparks in the house and wonder what had caught fire in her front yard.

  I slid out of the pickup then grabbed the gift basket I’d brought along as well as my purse. Tim closed the door and motioned toward the house.

  “Nana is gonna be so happy you came. Let’s head inside.” He started down the sidewalk and I hustled to keep step with him, but came to a halt when a dog the size of a pony loped around the corner of the house and raced toward us. The oversized canine stopped just short of plowing into Tim then dropped onto his hindquarters. His mouth was open in what almost looked like a smile and his ears perked forward. Even I could tell he was happy to see the cowboy.

  “Hey, boy. What are you doing? Huh? Are you being good?” Tim reached out and rubbed a hand over the dog’s head then scratched what looked like a lion’s ruff. The dog leaned against him and grunted, as though he’d been waiting all day for Tim to pay him attention. When the canine noticed me standing a few feet away, he tipped his head and gave me a long, studying glance.

  “Carol, I’d like you to meet Brutus. He may look like he could tear your arm off and eat it for lunch, but he’s really a pretty loveable guy.”

  I took a step closer to the dog and waited as he sniffed me. No doubt he was getting a nose full of Hemi’s scent. When he licked my fingers, I knew it was safe to pet him and gave him a few good pats. The dog was huge, furry, and had a loveable face. His breed seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it at the moment.

  “What is he?” I asked, looking up at Tim as I continued rubbing Brutus’ head.

  “Leonberger. The breed originated in…”

  “Germany,” I said before Tim could finish his sentence. At his surprised look, I smiled. “I spent some time there and remember seeing a few of these dogs. They are great family dogs, aren’t they?”

  Tim nodded, clearly shocked I knew anything about Leonberger dogs. “That’s right. They make an intimidating guard dog, drool a lot, and shed everywhere, but they’re affectionate with family.”

  “So how did you come to have Brutus?” I asked, curious how a dog like Brutus ended up on a ranch in Montana.

  “I had an Army buddy who got Brutus when he was weaned from his mama. My friend got an unexpected transfer and couldn’t take the puppy with him, so I offered to keep Brutus.” He ruffled a hand over the dog’s ears, making Brutus’ tongue hang out as he enjoyed the attention. “It looks like Brutus has declared you part of the family. He usually takes a while to warm up to strangers.”

  “So does Hemi, but he likes you for reasons I can’t begin to understand.” After
I said the words, I wished I hadn’t. I don’t know why I kept trying to insult the guy. He had been mostly nice to me, even after I attacked him.

  “Touché,” Tim said, then led the way inside the house. He took my coat and hung it on a rack by the door, removed his coat and hat, then indicated I should follow him.

  I was so busy admiring the gleaming wood in the entry, Tim had to take my elbow in his hand and guide me down the hallway. Although I expected the interior of the house to be dark, strategically placed windows allowed light to flood inside.

  When we stepped into the great room, I sucked in a gasp. Banks of windows flanked a two-story stone fireplace and provided a magnificent view of the mountains in the background. A sea of fat red and white cattle grazed in the foreground. The scene looked like something that should be captured in a painting.

  I shifted my gaze from the great outdoors to the room. Large leather chairs and couches were grouped around the fireplace. The walls along both sides of the room were lined with bookshelves and filled with not only books but also antiques and interesting pieces of art.

  “What do you think?” Tim asked as he moved farther into the welcoming space.

  “I think it’s spectacular. The views…” I struggled to come up with words adequate to describe the sight before me, which never happened. If he’d turned me around, marched me out the door, and returned me to town at that moment, the trip still would have been well worth it just to see the stunning view.

  “This is my favorite place to end the day. When the sun sets, it looks like the mountain is ablaze with color,” he said. Surprised he shared something personal like that with me, I nodded my head as I continued gawking at the amazing home.

  He took my elbow again and we left the room, continuing down the hallway until it opened into a bright, cheerful kitchen. Rather than log walls, it had been drywalled and painted a sunny yellow hue. Plump cushions on the chairs and matching chintz curtains at the windows gave it a homey, inviting atmosphere. Nancy sat at the kitchen table, chopping vegetables for a salad while a woman who closely resembled her, although younger, stood at the counter, basting a turkey.

  “Oh, you came!” Nancy exclaimed when she saw us walk into the room.

  I hurried over to her before she could try to get up from the chair and hugged her shoulders. “How are you doing?”

  “Pretty well, for a cranky old woman with a new hip,” Nancy said with a grin. She pointed to the woman with the turkey baster. “Carol, I’d like you to meet my sister, Charli Presley. Charli, this is Carol Bennett. Like I mentioned, she took over Rudolph’s Reads and has done great things with the store.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Presley,” I said, smiling at Nancy’s sister.

  “Call me Charli. I’m glad you could join us, Carol. I hope we didn’t interrupt your plans for the day.” Charli slid the turkey back in the oven and wiped her hands on a bandana-print apron.

  “Not at all. I appreciate the invitation. It was so kind of you to think of me.” I smiled at Nancy then handed her the basket of tea and chocolates.

  “Is this that delicious tea you served when you hosted the book club in September?” she asked, holding up a box of pumpkin tea.

  “The very one,” I said, glad to know she’d liked it enough she remembered it months later.

  “And a book!” she exclaimed, pulling it from the basket. “I’ll enjoy this immensely, Carol. Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

  “And thank you for yours.” I patted her shoulder then looked at Charli. “Is there anything I can do to help? I’m not much of a cook, but I can cut, chop, set the table, whatever you need.”

  “Mash potatoes?” Charli asked.

  I grinned. “I can handle that.” I’d taken two steps toward her when I heard Nancy gasp. Charli and I both looked over to see her holding Tim’s chin in her hand.

  “Good heavens, honey. What in the world happened to you?” Nancy brushed a thumb over the cut on his cheek.

  “I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing and ran into something. It’ll be fine,” he said, giving me a glance that said he wasn’t about to admit he’d been pummeled by a girl. He hadn’t lied to Nancy, though. Had he been paying attention to what he was doing he never would have snuck up my stairs and ran into my flying fists and feet, or the sconce on the wall.

  “Here, Tim. Get some ice on that bruise,” Charli said, taking an ice pack from the freezer. She wrapped it in a clean dishtowel and handed it to him.

  Tim appeared reluctant as he took it, but I heard him sigh as he sank into a chair across the table from Nancy.

  I pushed up the sleeves of my sweater, tied on the apron Charli handed to me, and started mashing potatoes. Thirty minutes later, I set the last bowl of food on the table in a glorious dining room. Tim held out a seat for me beside him. Nancy was already seated at the head of the table and Charli at the other end. Across from me, two cowboys so young they looked like they weren’t yet old enough to shave shifted on their chairs and glanced at the variety of silverware placed around their plates.

  Tim introduced them as Ross and Derek, although I wasn’t sure which was which. Next to them, sitting by Charli, was their ranch foreman, an older man named Jack with a twinkle in his eye and a big handlebar mustache that curled into circles on the ends. From what I could see, Jack was quite taken with Charli and the feeling appeared to be mutual. I wondered if Nancy and Tim knew there was a romance simmering in their midst.

  Nancy placed her hand on Tim’s arm and he looked around the table. “Let’s give thanks for this fine meal Aunt Charli prepared.”

  Tim asked a blessing that was heartfelt and the food was passed around the table.

  I took pity on Ross and Derek, who had no idea which fork to pick up, and gave them silent direction. My taste buds were elated as I sampled one wonderful dish after another. Charli had prepared a golden, crisp-skinned, juicy turkey with sage stuffing that was the best I’ve ever eaten. In addition to the potatoes I mashed, we enjoyed creamy gravy, buttered corn, green beans seasoned with bits of onion and bacon, a green salad, cranberries accented with candied orange peel, a casserole made of broccoli and three kinds of cheese, hot rolls, and huckleberry jam.

  The food was so wonderful I ate like a farmhand who’d been out in the fields all day. I’d just finished the last bite of a roll slathered with jam when Nancy cleared her throat.

  “While we give that fantastic meal time to settle so we’ll have room for dessert, I want everyone to say one thing they are thankful for today.” Nancy looked at Tim. “You start, honey.”

  Tim’s head moved slightly my way then he looked back at his grandmother. “I’m grateful for this warm, comfortable home, for plenty of good food to eat, for dedicated hands who work here, for friends and loved ones, for the ranch and all it provides for us, and for Nana, who keeps me on the straight and narrow.” Tim glanced at me again. “And I’m really thankful I didn’t run into something bigger this morning or I would have spent the day at the hospital.”

  Everyone laughed but I felt heat stinging my cheeks in embarrassment. Even if no one else knew what had happened to Tim’s poor face, I did.

  His leg bumped mine beneath the table and I jumped like I’d been zapped with a cattle prod. To cover my surprise, I smiled at the group. “I guess it’s my turn. I’m thankful for kind friends who open up their home with warmth and love, and to Charli for this divine meal. I’m grateful to Tim for driving into town to get me, and I’m deeply sorry he ran into something.”

  He nodded at me as Charli took her turn.

  When everyone had shared what they were grateful for, the men insisted on doing the dishes. Charli and I helped Nancy into the great room where she settled into a chair near the fireplace. Charli flicked a switch and flames sputtered to life, creating an amber glow that was too inviting to resist. I took a seat on the couch across from Nancy, basking in the warmth coming from the fireplace.

  The two women asked me about the stor
e, if I was ready for tomorrow’s shoppers, and any holiday books they should add to their reading lists. I questioned Charli about Chicago and the restaurants where she’d worked, keeping quiet about the fact I’d eaten at a few of them.

  Nancy talked about how much she hated to be unable to do her usual preparations for the holidays. Charli assured her she would do whatever she could to help.

  Then my mouth got ahead of my brain, and I volunteered my services. “Anytime I can be of assistance, all you need to do is call, Nancy. The store closes at six. I have time most evenings if you need something. Or my Sunday afternoons are free.”

  “That’s so sweet of you to offer, Carol. I would hate to bother you, knowing how hard you work. You are in that store such long hours and hardly have any time for yourself.” Nancy shook her head. “A pretty young thing like you should be out living life and enjoying these carefree years.”

  Enjoying the carefree years and living life had resulted in my need to retreat to Christmas Mountain.

  Before I came up with an appropriate reply to her comment, the men appeared and took seats. I couldn’t decide if I should be happy or irritated Tim sat next to me. His masculine scent taunted my nose while his warmth penetrated my side. If he was my type, which he so completely and totally was not, I might have scooted closer to him and enjoyed his presence.

  As it was, I did my best to ignore him as the group talked about the ranch, the holiday season, and things taking place in Christmas Mountain like the annual tree lighting.

  An hour later, Charli served dessert with the kind of coffee I missed from my travels in Europe. It was impossible to decide between pumpkin cheesecake with caramel sauce, apple pie with ice cream, or a flourless chocolate cake covered in a dark ganache, so I opted for a tiny piece of all three.

  They were so good I had a hard time not moaning in pleasure. The chocolate cake and the coffee were a perfect pairing. I thought I caught hints of hazelnut in the coffee as I took another sip. Normally, I preferred tea, but once in a while, there was just something about a ridiculously good cup of coffee that couldn’t be beat. Like now.