by Vivi Holt
“There you are!” exclaimed Diana with a smile. She held a wooden spoon high in one hand poised above a pan on the stove.
“What smells so delicious?” asked Kate as she wandered into the room.
“I hope you like pot roast.”
“Mmmm…I love it. I haven’t had it in ages. There’s not much point making a roast for one, and my roommate is a vegetarian.”
Diana’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “A vegetarian? I’ve never met one of those.”
Kate chuckled. “It’s not catching.”
“Good to know.” Diana winked. “I’d hate to see anyone passing up the opportunity to eat this beauty.” She gestured toward the oven, and Kate bent to peer through the glass door. A moist roast browned in an open pan.
“Can I help with anything?” she asked, straightening.
“Everything’s done. Just keep me company while I finish up stirring the gravy.”
“Okay. I’d be happy to.” Kate leaned on the counter, her heart swelling at the homeiness around her. It’d been so long. Too long since she’d felt such peace, love, and a sense of family.
“Tell me, how long have you and Chris been an item?” Diana’s eyes sparkled as she stirred. Obviously she didn’t intend to give up on finding out what she could about them. This time, Kate was ready.
“Not long. We only met recently.” She didn’t want to lie. Well, not any more than she had to. And since she and Chris hadn’t resolved on a plan for these types of questions yet, she figured the best thing was to be as vague as possible. She’d asked him when they were upstairs, but he’d mumbled something about figuring it out sometime soon and he needed to take a shower.
“Uh huh… Well, it must be serious for him to invite you all the way across the country.”
Diana nodded, and Kate mirrored her nod with lips puckered. “Hmmm.”
Just then, Chris walked into the room. His limp was more pronounced than ever, and his hair slicked back against his head, still wet from the shower. He smelled of soap and a faint heady aroma she assumed was some kind of aftershave. Whatever it was set butterflies free to spin circles in her stomach.
“Hi,” she whispered. Then she coughed to clear her throat. “Your mom was asking how long we’ve been together.” She tipped her head to one side and widened her eyes, hoping he’d understand the gesture.
“Right, of course. We’ve been together for a month. We met at work. Kate was temping in the office. She does that sometimes to make a little extra cash. And anyway, we bumped into each other at the water cooler.”
“How about that!” declared Diana with a huff. “Just like in the movies.”
Kate’s cheeks warmed. Just as well she hadn’t made anything up, since Chris just barged in and took control of the conversation without even considering what her side might be.
“That’s right,” she continued. “I turned on the water spout, and it spurted all over his pants. He had a big wet patch, so it looked as though he hadn’t gotten to the little boy’s room in time. Everyone laughed.” She grinned.
“I’m not sure that’s quite what happened…” he interrupted, his brows drawn low.
“Oh, yes, it is. Then I laughed too, and you laughed, and, well…the rest is history.”
Diana giggled. “That’s some funny story. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll be able to tell it to my grandchildren.”
Chris’s eyes rolled, then he glared at Kate, picked up a set of salt and pepper shakers, and headed for the dining room.
“Dinner’s ready!” called Diana.
Kate laughed beneath her breath and followed him, her eyes fixed firmly on his rigid back.
Chapter 5
December 21st
Kate covered her eyes with one hand and groaned. She’d tossed and turned all night, even though the bed in the guest room was soft and comfortable with covers of thick, warm goose down and she was tired after a long day. But she’d still had difficulty sleeping. She wasn’t accustomed to the strange sounds of a working ranch—the call of animals, the crack of tree branches under ice, the distant howl of a wolf.
Just remembering that mournful nighttime call sent a shudder through her body. She rolled over and peered at the alarm clock on the bedside table through bleary eyes. It was nine a.m. She sat up abruptly and rubbed her eyes. How could it be so late already? The last time she’d looked at the time it’d been three o’clock—the middle of the night.
She dressed quickly and ran a brush through her hair then hurried downstairs. The smells of frying bacon, bread, and coffee drifted down the hall to greet her. Her stomach grumbled, and her mouth watered. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.
In the kitchen, she found Diana seated at the bar reading a newspaper and Chris standing in front of the stove, a spatula hovering over a frying pan. Sizzling and popping sounds emitted from the pan, and Kate licked her lips. He cooked? Maybe he wasn’t all bad.
“Good morning, y’all,” she said.
Three heads turned toward her.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” replied Diana with a wide smile.
“I’m so sorry I slept late. I wouldn’t usually, it was just so cozy in that bed, and the sun didn’t even peep through the blackout curtains over the windows. If I hadn’t looked at the clock on the nightstand, I might never have gotten out of bed.” She laughed and peered around Chris’s shoulder. “Mmmm, that smells good.”
“Don’t you worry about sleeping in, honey. You can do that anytime here. You’re on vacation. Sleep all you want to. It don’t matter to us,” called Frank from his place at the long dining table. He looked to be waiting for his breakfast, both hands fisted around a steaming hot cup of coffee.
The kitchen door burst open, and piles of children streamed through it, along with a howl of cold air. Diana hurried to shut the door behind them, laughing.
“My, but you kids know how to make an entrance. Get your coats and boots off and sit up at the table, your Uncle Chris is making us all breakfast.”
Three children shed their coats, letting them drop to the floor, and tugged off boots, leaving them scattered all over, before rushing over to Chris. They threw their arms around his legs and waist, whichever they could reach, all chattering and asking questions at once.
He laughed and patted each one on the head. They loved him; there was no doubt about that from their reaction to seeing him. Though Kate wondered if he felt the same way. He seemed so cold, so distant. How could he resist those chubby arms and round, red cheeks? She just didn’t understand the man. Here was love staring him right in the face, and he patted it on the head and turned back to what he was doing.
She frowned. The door opened again, and a man and woman walked through it, more sedately than their predecessors. They peeled off layers of clothing then turned to greet everyone in the house.
“You must be Kate,” said a woman with carrot-red hair and sparkling blue eyes in a peaches-and-cream face. “I’m Sasha. It’s so nice to finally get to meet one of Chris’s friends.”
“Hi, Kate, I’m Todd—this reprobate’s brother.” The man laughed and punched Chris in the shoulder. Chris stopped what he was doing to offer a brief embrace then returned his focus to the frying bacon.
She saw the similarity between them. Both were tall and muscular with athletic physiques, but where Chris had dark brown hair, Todd’s was sandy blond, and where Chris’s eyes were a stormy blue, Todd’s were hazel. Chris wore an expensive navy sweater over chinos and loafers, and Todd was dressed in blue jeans and a checked long-sleeved shirt.
They may have looked alike, but Kate guessed that was where the similarities ended. It was already apparent that Todd’s personality overflowed with warmth and laughter, something she couldn’t say for his brother.
She reached out a hand to shake his, and he enveloped her in a welcoming embrace instead. “Welcome to the Everett ranch, Kate,” he said.
Her cheeks warmed, and her heart squeezed just a little. She felt welcome and loved; to
o bad it was all for show. No doubt before long Chris would discover that she wasn’t who he thought she was, and perhaps he’d even tell his family the truth. Then they wouldn’t look at her, embrace her, or welcome her this way.
“Phew, it’s cold!” stated Todd.
In between roughhousing with his grandchildren and tickling their ribs, Frank glanced up at Todd with a grin. “How cold is it?”
Todd laughed. “It’s so cold, I met Jack Frost in the garden and he begged to come in.”
Frank slapped his thigh and let out a booming guffaw. “That’s a good one.”
Chris glanced at them over his shoulder with a quirked eyebrow. His gaze met hers, and her heart skipped a beat at the intensity behind his blue eyes. He held her gaze for a single, long moment then looked down. Butterflies scrambled in her stomach, and she scurried to the dining table and slumped into a seat.
“I hear you’re an artist,” began Sasha, sitting beside her with a smile.
“That’s right.”
“I’m an accountant. I’m sure it’s nowhere near as exciting. I wish I was gifted in something creative.” Sasha sighed and reached out a hand to stop one of the boys from falling headfirst onto the floor tiles. The movement was unhurried and casual, as though she did that kind of thing all the time. “No running in the house,” she reprimanded the child.
“You have three children?”
She nodded. “Three crazy whirlwinds.” Sasha chuckled. “But I love them.” She pointed to one head at a time; all three were strawberry-colored. “This is Will, who’s seven, Cade is six, and little Milly is four. Come here, Mill.”
The smallest child, a girl, climbed onto Sasha’s knee and curled up against her chest, one thumb protruding from between her pink cherub lips.
The boys ran off in a frenzy of shouts and slapping of feet against the hard floor.
Sasha sighed. “They never slow down.”
Chapter 6
Chris watched as Kate interacted with his family. She was warm and engaging. He’d been concerned when she showed up on his doorstep looking like an extra from a Hallmark movie about Santa Claus and his elves. But the agency had been right in sending her. She was exactly what he needed. Already she was deflecting most of the family’s attention away from him. He could stand at the stove and stir the bacon, scramble the eggs, and check on the waffles in the waffle iron every couple of minutes, and no one paid him any mind.
Well, no one but the kids, who always did their best to knock him off his feet and pummel him into submission. He smiled to himself and slipped the spatula beneath several pieces of bacon, setting them on a plate covered with layers of paper towels to blot the grease. His niece and nephews had really grown since he last saw them.
His chest tightened as he studied them quietly. He wished he lived closer, so he could see them more often. He could take them to the movies, spoil them with gifts, teach them to whistle. All the things uncles did. As it was, he didn’t feel like much of an uncle. He’d been so absorbed in his own world, his own grief, for the past few years he hadn’t been the uncle he’d always imagined he would be for his brother’s children. Was it too late to start now?
Finally, breakfast was ready. Todd and Sasha called for the boys, and everyone situated themselves around the mammoth dining table. It’d been his mother’s greatest wish to see that table filled with her children and grandchildren, eating meals together, ever since Dad had built it for her when Chris was a little boy.
There were still a few empty spaces, and he knew she was saving those for his own children. He hated to tell her there wouldn’t be any. Even thinking of it made his heart ache. He’d always imagined he and Mia would have an entire brood of rambunctious rascals, just like his nephews and niece. But now she was gone, and so was his dream. It was time he let it go once and for all, and Mom would have to learn to do that as well in time. Whenever he could find the nerve to break it to her.
She served everyone fresh squeezed orange juice and refilled cups of coffee around the table while he served up the bacon, eggs, and waffles.
He sat in the space across from Kate and watched as she poured a river of syrup over the entire plate. He quirked an eyebrow. “Syrup on everything?”
She smiled. “My mother was Canadian, and that’s how it’s done there. You should try it; it’s better than it sounds.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
She handed him the syrup jug, and he followed her lead. When he took the first mouthful, his eyes flew wide in surprise. It was good. The sweetness of the syrup complemented the salty flavor of the bacon and eggs in a way he hadn’t expected. It didn’t seem as though they’d go together, they were so different, so opposite, but they blended perfectly in a burst of flavor in his mouth that set his taste buds tingling.
“Wow, that’s delicious.”
“I wanna try, I wanna try.” The boys set up a chorus until Sasha agreed to smother their plates in syrup, and soon the entire table was tasting the Canadian-style breakfast.
He grinned. There was something so infectious about her—her mood, her smile, her laughter, that twinkle in her brown eyes. He couldn’t help being attracted to her, though he knew it couldn’t go anywhere. As much as the agency liked to say they weren’t an escort service, offering dates for hire fit the profile. And he’d never form a relationship with someone who dated men for a living, as much as she insisted she was an artist instead.
It wasn’t as though he intended to date anyone. But being around a beautiful, charming woman again had certainly sparked the thought in his mind more than he’d expected it to. He hadn’t seriously considered forming a relationship with anyone since his wife died and wasn’t now. Still, he couldn’t help thinking about how her lips might feel against his.
He inhaled sharply and focused his attention on the plate in front of him. He couldn’t afford to get sloppy and let his feelings become involved in this business transaction. And that’s all it was. He’d started out with a plan, and he should follow it through to completion no matter how crazy he thought the plan was after reflection and in the light of day.
Truth be told, he couldn’t say what he’d been thinking, only that he’d let his friendship with Steve and his dread of blind dates influence him into doing something he’d never have considered otherwise. And now here he was, on a ten-day-long blind date. He bit down on his lip. At least she wasn’t staring at him across the table and asking him inane questions like his last blind date had done. So far, she was much better company than any of the others he’d taken out.
“So, Chris, how’s the business doing?” asked Todd, chewing a mouthful of bacon.
“It’s doing well.”
“I heard you lost a big contract to Tyson Global. Is that right?” asked Dad, his gaze fixed on Chris.
Of course he had to bring that up. No “congratulations” or “well done.” Just a reference to the single biggest failure of the past year.
“That’s right.”
“You must’ve lost a lot of money on that one.”
“Thanks, Dad, yes, we did. But we’re still doing fine. We won a lot of contracts this year as well.”
His mind wandered as he ate, thinking about work, about the contracts they had yet to complete and all the things that had to be done, about staffing and communication issues. Anything other than the one thing that beat itself against the edge of his consciousness.
Mia wasn’t here. And it was all his fault.
Kate laughed at something Sasha said. The two of them were already thick as thieves, heads close together, deep in discussion. Just how Mia had been with Sasha, before everything went wrong. Before that Christmas three years earlier and the accident that changed his life forever.
He wanted to smile, to laugh and join in on the discussion. But something held him back. Kate ran a hand through her hair and caught his eye. Her own brown ones sparkled with reflected light from the fireplace in the dining room. If he joined them—chatting, laughing—it’d be a
betrayal to the memory of his wife—to be happy, to celebrate the holidays with his family, to find someone else to care about.
To feel joy.
It wasn’t something he was willing to let himself experience. Not when he was the reason Mia was gone. The reason she couldn’t enjoy another Christmas or family breakfast.
After breakfast and a thorough kitchen cleanup, the entire family migrated to the den and sat around the fire on sofas, love seats, and deep, comfortably worn leather armchairs.
Chris settled down into one of the armchairs. It’d always been his favorite. He couldn’t say how many years it’d stood in this den. The amber brown leather had faded in places and was covered with lines and wrinkles. It melded to the shape of his body just right, and he felt as though he might fall asleep if he sat still in that place for too long. He never felt that way at home in Atlanta.
The only time he slept was for six hours each night in his bed, and even then, it never seemed to develop into a truly deep sleep. Not like the one he’d had last night in his old childhood bedroom. He’d slept like someone drugged, vivid dreams chasing him deeper and deeper until he’d woken, refreshed, at eight o’clock. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so late.
He rubbed his fingers over his eyes and breathed in deeply. That was what it was like to be home. He loved Montana. Loved the mountains, rivers, evergreens, snow drifts, and roaring fires. Loved this house and the history it contained within its walls. The furnishings and homey decor, each item prompting a memory from his childhood.
“I’m gonna head outside and see to the livestock,” said Todd.
Chris stood to his feet. “I’ll come too.”
Todd smiled and dipped his head. “That’d be great. Thanks. I’ve given most of the staff a few days off, only a couple of them stayed on, so we’ll just have to manage over the holidays without them. They’re in town so they can be with loved ones and just stopping in at the ranch each day to check on things. Hopefully it’s all smooth sailing.”
