by Vivi Holt
Dad rocked in his rocker, a book open in his lap and his eyes shut. His mouth hung ajar, and a light snoring sound emitted from it. Todd and Sasha were playing a hand of cards, and Todd was cheating as usual. Only Sasha caught him every time and set him right. The two of them were laughing and joking more than they were focused on playing the game.
When Kate and Mom joined the rest of the group in the den, Chris straightened in his chair. Kate’s eyes looked red, and Mom’s face was somber. What had they been talking about?
Kate’s fine, blonde hair hung over her cheeks and shimmered in the firelight. She glanced about for a place to sit, spied the piano, and wandered toward it. When she sat on the piano seat, he half expected her to turn it to face the group. But instead, she opened the piano cover and picked out a soft tune with one finger.
“Do you play?” asked Mom.
She nodded. “I love it.”
“How about some Christmas carols then?” requested Sasha with a smile.
Just then, Dad snorted and startled to wakefulness, staring around the room as though he couldn’t remember where he was.
“Only if it’s okay with everyone…” Kate’s cheeks flushed pink.
After a chorus of encouragement from around the room, she set her fingers on the keys and began to play “Silent Night.” After the opening bars, she added her own voice to the mix, and it swelled in complement to the sound of the piano.
Chris was impressed. He knew she delivered singing telegrams as a part-time occupation, but hearing her sing set goose pimples tickling across his skin. Her voice soared over the chords, at first soft and deep, then scaling its way up until it was high and powerful. He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes fixed on her.
When she finished, everyone erupted into applause. The children had gathered around the piano by the time the song drew to a close, and all jumped up and down, crying out for her to play another.
Milly clambered onto the seat beside her and stared up at Kate with wide, adoring eyes.
“More, more!” she cried.
Kate laughed, and her cheeks reddened further still. “More?”
“Yes!” Everyone agreed, including Chris. He’d never heard anything more beautiful. The music spoke to his soul, and he didn’t understand it, but something inside of him warmed and opened. The anger that’d been curled in his chest shifted just a little, and he felt a swell of affection for the woman he’d brought here to deceive his family.
Even though she’d played her part well, he hadn’t expected her to spark something in him he barely recognized. Desire—to know her, to hold her, to kiss her. He inhaled sharply and combed fingers through his hair, setting it on end. He’d have to keep his distance, or he could find himself in over his head with a woman who wanted nothing from him but the money he owed her.
After half a dozen Christmas carols, Kate finished by belting out a rousing version of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” She glanced at Chris once she hit the chorus, mischief in her eyes. He dipped his head to one side and nodded as a smile spread across his face.
It was the song she’d intended to sing on his doorstep when he’d interrupted her and dragged her into his house. She’d wondered if he’d get the reference. She chuckled inwardly, finishing the song with a flurry of chords and a flourishing bow. She laughed as the family rose to their feet, hands clapping wildly.
“That was amazing,” said Sasha, coming up beside her. “I think you’ve won a lifelong fan.” She pointed to Milly, whose eyes were fixed on Kate’s face in awe.
Kate laughed. “Well, I’m a fan of hers as well. She’s adorable and so clever.”
“We think so,” replied Sasha, wrapping her arms around the child and lifting her up onto one hip. “She’s our little angel.” She kissed Milly’s cheek, and the girl burrowed her head against her mother’s shoulder.
Suddenly, Chris was at her side. “I’m heading to the barn to help Dad feed the horses before supper. Would you like to come?”
She nodded. “That would be great.” She couldn’t believe how much his attitude toward her had already begun to shift.
He waved a hand to signal her to go ahead of him, and she strode toward the mudroom. Once she had on boots, coat, gloves, scarf, and knit cap, she stepped outside and breathed a lungful of the crisp winter air. The cold washed over her, and she shivered, even though she was warm inside her coat.
With hands shoved deep into her pockets, they fell into step side by side as they made their way toward the tall, dark, looming barn. The path was well worn, and the thin snow that remained on it crunched beneath her feet.
“That was really great,” he said.
She arched an eyebrow. “What…?”
“The music, the carols. You play beautifully, and your voice is amazing. I’m only sorry I stopped you from singing on my doorstep that day. I missed out on one heck of a Christmas-Gram.” He shot her a grin that melted her insides and made her legs weak.
“Thanks.”
They reached the barn, and he tugged the door open then stepped aside for her to enter first. Inside, the air was warmer and thick with the scent of animals and hay. She pulled off her gloves and shoved them into her pockets then strode to a stall and peered through the gate. A chestnut horse rested inside, its eyelids half shut. It stirred when it saw her and stepped slowly toward her, its tail swishing.
“Aren’t you beautiful?” she murmured, reaching in to pet the animal’s forehead.
“That’s Ginger, and she’s looking for a treat. See how her ears are back? That means, ‘Don’t pet me unless you’ve got something to back it up with.’” He laughed and pulled a carrot from a hessian bag hung nearby on the wall. “Mom fills this with scraps to use as treats, otherwise Ginger is a bit of a handful. She’s been spoiled to death her entire life. She’s Mom’s pet, more than anything. She was raised inside the house, if you can believe it.”
Kate handed her the carrot, and true to Chris’s word, her ears flicked forward, and she munched happily on the vegetable while Kate scratched her forelock.
“Inside the house? I didn’t know people did that.”
“Not usually. But she was born in a cold snap, and her ma died pretty soon after. My mom insisted on bringing her into the house to warm her up. She fed her from a bottle, but when it was time for her to head back outside, Mom didn’t want to let her. She kept Ginger in and around the house until she was too big to stay there.” He laughed and slapped Ginger gently on the shoulder. “So, she knows she’s a favorite, and she gets her way most of the time.”
They moved on, and he introduced her to each horse as they went. Then, they both set about mucking out the stalls, cleaning and refilling water troughs, and refreshing their supply of hay and oats. Once they were done, Kate slumped down onto a rough-hewn timber bench between the stalls and sighed. She ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. “It’s a lot of work to run a ranch, huh?”
He laughed. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Is that why you left?”
He sat beside her, resting his elbows on his thighs, chin in his hands. He rubbed his face then straightened with a sigh. “No. I don’t mind hard work.”
It was obvious he wasn’t going to give her any further explanation. He held secrets close to his chest, and it seemed to her he had no desire to let anyone in. She wished he would. There was something between them; she felt it. Though he hadn’t seemed to notice. It was obvious he wasn’t ready for anything more than a friendship with her, maybe not even that. And perhaps he never would be.
“Do you still ride?” she asked.
His lips pursed before he answered. “No.”
“But you have horses back in Atlanta…”
“I keep them for breeding. They’re Arabians—truly majestic animals. But I don’t ride them.”
“What do you do with them?”
“I look at them, I guess.” He laughed, and his nose wrinkled. “That sounds a bit ridiculous when I s
ay it out loud. They win prizes at various horse shows around the country, and I breed them with other blue-ribbon winners. It’s a hobby.”
Pain flitted across his face.
Then, he leaned closer, his eyes flickering downward to rest on her lips then back up to meet her gaze—bold, strong, and intense. He glanced away as though looking at her caused him pain, then back again, and she saw a heat in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. She pushed a smile onto her face, though nerves jangled in her stomach, and didn’t break away from his gaze. Her heart rate accelerated at his closeness.
What was he thinking? Would he kiss her?
Her entire body tensed in anticipation, every nerve end tingling.
“Chris…I don’t know what you think of me, but…” Before she could finish the sentence, his lips were pressed to hers.
Her heart thundered against her ribs, and her eyes slid shut. His lips were soft at first then demanding, and he slid his arms around her, pulling her hard against his chest.
Her own hands found their way around his neck, and her fingers slid into his hair, grasping gently at it as she deepened the kiss. There was more passion in his kiss than she’d thought him capable of, and the surprise of it built an excitement deep inside her that worked its way up from her gut into her head, making her dizzy.
When finally he pulled away, he took her breath with him.
He leaned his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes for a moment, one hand still caressing her back. Then, he pulled away, and the walls slipped back into place, separating the two of them with a simple gesture. He leapt to his feet and paced away from her then back again with a furrowed brow.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Let’s not talk about it.” She couldn’t bear for him to take it back. Not now. “Would you take me out riding?”
His brow furrowed, and he stared toward the barn doors then back at her with a flash of heat in his eyes. “No.”
“Why not?” She pouted. He was being unreasonable. It’s not as if she wanted to do a steeplechase. He could just lead her around the yard that was attached the barn, if nothing else.
“Someone else will do it. I’ll ask around.”
“So, you don’t ride at all anymore?”
He shook his head and ran a hand over his face.
“But you own some of the most stunning horses in the country, your parents have this heavenly ranch, and you refuse to ride.”
“You don’t understand…”
Sudden realization dawned. What was she saying? Of course he didn’t want to ride. Her cheeks burned with a sudden rush of blood as she realized her blunder.
“Oh…right. Of course. Yes, I do understand actually. Diana told me what happened, and I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m sorry for how it happened. It was a horrible, senseless tragedy, but you can’t live in fear the rest of your life.”
His face grew thunderous, and he fidgeted with the zipper on his coat. “It is not fear.”
“Okay.”
“What if I don’t want to ride?” He set his hands on his hips.
“I know you do. The way you looked at and spoke to the horses just now, it’s pretty clear how much you love them. You want to go riding, you’re just afraid of how it will feel. Of remembering the trauma. But you haven’t forgotten it, and riding won’t change that.”
He studied her through narrowed eyes. “You’ve got a lot of opinions, you know?”
She laughed. “I know.”
He huffed out a breath of air. “Fine. I’ll take you riding. But if you get hurt, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I trust you. It’s gonna be fine.”
He saddled up two of the horses. He set a saddle blanket on the first animal’s back and the horse’s skin twitched.
She laughed. “I think it tickles.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Hmmm.”
Then she helped him lug the saddle onto the horse, and he showed her how to tighten the girth. His fingers brushed against hers, and her heart drummed against her ribcage. She inhaled sharply. Being around him, so close to him, her head felt light. Seeing him face his fears, willing to do something he’d avoided for so long just to see her happy, even with the grim look on his face, gave her a sense of peace, wellbeing, and acceptance that warmed her soul to the core. He cared. He might not be willing to show it much yet, but he cared about her. Cared enough to push aside his own feelings. Cared enough to let down his walls long enough to kiss her like that.
They didn’t go far—just rode around the field beside the barn. He took her over a rise, and together they watched the sun setting beyond the mountain range. Shadows lengthened as they made their way back to the barn and put the horses away.
They talked and laughed together, and for the first time, she saw a smile light up not just his lips but his eyes as well. He looked happy, as though the burdens he’d been carrying around on his wide shoulders had lightened for at least a few moments. And all the while, the only thing she could think of was how his lips had felt against hers. And she wondered if he’d ever kiss her again. And how she could possibly stand it if he didn’t.
Chapter 12
December 25th
Kate released the curling wand from her hair and watched as the chunk of hair sprang up into a ringlet. She set the wand down and unplugged the cord from the outlet then stepped back to study her reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Curls bobbed around her face as she turned her head from side to side. She added a little makeup to her features, touched her lips with a smear of pink-toned lip gloss, then ran her fingers through her now cooled curls to loosen them up.
She inhaled deeply. It was Christmas Day, and she was spending the day with a family who thought she was dating one of them. Who’d welcomed her with open arms. She’d fallen in love with Chris’s family in a few short days, and her heart ached at the deceit.
She should tell them the truth. No, he should tell them the truth. If she blurted it out now, it’d ruin Christmas Day, and it’d affect Chris and his relationship with the people he cared most about. She couldn’t do that to him or to them. But she also couldn’t keep up the ruse for much longer. It hurt, made her heart ache.
The Everetts were the kind of family she’d always wanted, ever since her parents were killed. The type of family she could grow to love even more than she already did. They were genuine, compassionate, and kind.
Even Chris had warmed to her since they first arrived. And that kiss—it’d taken her by surprise and set her heart on fire all at once. He’d seemed so cold, distant, and disinterested in her. So, when he kissed her, she hadn’t expected the level of passion and intensity that sent a bolt of electricity through her, from her lips down to her toes.
She ran fingertips over her lips as she remembered then smiled at herself in the mirror.
As she made her way down the stairs, the sound of voices rose up to greet her along with the aroma of good things to eat. Her stomach grumbled, and she chuckled to herself. She’d never eaten so well in her life, and her stomach was already growing accustomed to the new diet, demanding more at every meal. If she wasn’t careful, she’d go up a dress size before she returned home to Atlanta.
“Merry Christmas,” she called as she reached the kitchen.
Diana stood in front of an open oven door, oven mitts holding two sides of a glass casserole dish. She smiled over her shoulder. “Merry Christmas, honey. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Famished!”
The others were seated around the dining table with cups of steaming coffee, already deep in conversation. The kids hovered in front of the Christmas tree, turning gifts over between their hands and carefully poking and prodding them.
Kate grinned and opened a cabinet to retrieve a coffee cup then filled it from the drip coffee maker. She added a vanilla-flavored creamer and pressed it to her lips. The warmth of the drink slid down her throat and into her stomach.
She sighed. “Just what
I needed. Can I help you with something, Diana?”
“That would be wonderful, honey. If you could separate out these cinnamon rolls and set them in that basket to put on the table, I’d much appreciate it.”
Fresh, home-baked cinnamon rolls perched on top of a cooling rack on the counter. Kate’s mouth watered at the sight of them. “Yes, ma’am.”
She set about her task while Diana carried the casserole dish to the table and set it beside the centerpiece of holly, gold candles, and a golden dove with a gold leaf pressed firmly between its beak.
“Bacon and egg casserole and freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Breakfast is ready!” called Diana.
The children hightailed it for their places at the table, all talking at once. Kate followed Diana into the dining room with the basket of rolls and placed them on the red table runner beside the casserole.
Everyone found their place at the table, the children fidgeting and ready to get the day’s festivities started. Kate felt almost as excited as they looked. Christmas Day with people whom she cared about, who cared for her, a delicious meal, a luxurious Christmas tree, gifts she’d bought and wrapped to hand out after breakfast. She thought she might burst with contentment.
“Hi,” murmured Chris across the table, his expression neutral.
“Good morning.” She longed to sit beside him, caress his cheek, ask him what was going on inside that handsome head of his. Why wouldn’t he let her in? Instead, she pressed her hands into her lap, and stared down at the place setting in front of her.
“Let’s say the blessing,” began Frank. He prayed for their meal and gave thanks for the celebration.
Then, everyone handed around the food and served it onto white china plates with sprigs of painted mistletoe adorning the edges. Background strains of Michael Buble’s crooning voice broke through the buzz of conversation whenever there was a lull.
Kate served herself a giant scoop of bacon and egg casserole. Then she jumped up to top off everyone’s coffee before sitting again to dig into her food.
