Montana Mistletoe

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Montana Mistletoe Page 5

by Roxanne Rustand


  He’d forgotten how easy it was to talk to Abby. Back when they were dating, they’d ridden together for hours and had never been at a loss for conversation. They’d talked for hours up in the hayloft at the ranch or her dad’s.

  Lost in thought, he absently took a bite of the cookie in his hand. Still-warm chocolate chips, white-chocolate chunks, toasted walnuts and pecans, all magically held together in a buttery-crisp cookie, melted in his mouth.

  He slid her gaze over to her in awe. “Did you make these back when we were dating? If so, how could I have forgotten?”

  Her smug smile made him laugh out loud.

  “No. I spent years on a search for the most perfect chocolate-chip cookie ever and finally started combining recipes and tweaking ingredients on my own. What do you think?”

  “If these aren’t perfect, I don’t know what is.” He eyed her speculatively. “Sooo...do you share recipes? Say, like this one?”

  “Only with my very best friends. So I’ll have to do some very serious thinking on where you stand. But in the meantime, I’ll make them whenever you want while I’m here.”

  He thought for a moment. “I seem to remember you warning me that you weren’t a good cook. During our interview.”

  “I think I said I wasn’t really a gourmet cook, but hoped no one would starve. There’s a difference.”

  He found himself feeling at peace for the first time in way too long, and realized it was because Abby was here again, in this kitchen—with her sparkling eyes and delicious cookies and silvery laugh, her warmth and compassion and all of the things that hadn’t been in his life for a long time.

  He dragged a tired hand down his face as a sudden weariness settled over him like a heavy mantle.

  “You look like you’re going to fall asleep on your feet, Jess.” She rested her small hand on his arm. “Go. Clean up and rest awhile. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

  He hesitated, feeling there was something important he needed to say, but the words just didn’t come.

  Then he stumbled off to bed to close his eyes for just a few minutes before dinner...

  Until a terrified scream awakened him at three in the morning.

  Chapter Five

  Startled by a scream, Abby jumped out of bed, threw on her robe and flew out into the hall, belatedly realizing she’d forgotten slippers. The floor was cold.

  The house was dark. Totally dark. No glow of moonlight filtered through the blinds. Not even the night-light in the hallway was on. And the wind was even stronger now, battering the house with unrelenting force, rattling the shutters and scraping branches against the windows. It sounded as if some unknown creature was trying to break in.

  The faint beam of a flashlight bobbed through the living room, and then Jess appeared in the hallway in a faded T-shirt and jeans, his haggard face a mask of concern.

  A low, keening cry came from the twins’ room.

  “It’s Sophie,” he said in a hushed voice. “The power just went out and she’s terrified of the dark.”

  It was no wonder, with what the poor child had been through back in California when she and Bella were left alone overnight.

  He pressed his fingertips against the door to the girls’ room. “Sweetheart, it’s me,” he whispered. “Uncle Jess. Can I come in?”

  “It’s dark,” she wailed. “I need my light.”

  Abby waited at the open door while he set the flashlight on the bedside table so it illuminated the ceiling and softly lit the room. Bella stirred sleepily under her blankets, then rolled away from the light.

  Jess picked up Sophie and sat on the edge of her bed, smoothing back her tousled hair. “Everything is fine. We’ve just got a snowy night and the power will be out for a while.”

  “Can’t you fix it?” She turned her tear-streaked face up to look at him. “Please?”

  “I just called the power company and they said it might be a couple hours.”

  “But Gramma has lights we can use. She said so.”

  “I don’t feel safe using her candles or kerosene lamps when we’re asleep, honey. Would you like to keep my flashlight?”

  Her lower lip trembled. “I want you to stay. And I want our puppy back. Can you get him?”

  He considered it for a moment. “Now that Abby is here to help us and Grandma’s home, I’ll go get him as soon as I can.”

  “Tonight? He could sleep on my bed.”

  “Tonight is too cold and snowy, but maybe tomorrow. It was nice of the neighbors to keep him for a while, wasn’t it?”

  She rubbed her eyes and yawned, then snuggled deeper into his arms.

  Struck by the sweet intimacy of the moment, Abby felt her breath catch and a deep sense of longing wrapped around her heart.

  Jess had been all she’d ever wished for back in high school and college. Fun. Daring. Smart. Someone who shared her love of horses and ranch life, dancing, and skiing on weekends. He seemed to excel at everything he ever tried, and she’d been proud to be with him.

  But what she’d loved about him then had been superficial compared to what she was learning about him now. Seeing his warmth and gentleness with this distraught child made her imagine falling in love with him all over again, if she wasn’t careful.

  “What would you think about all of us going out by the fireplace for the rest of the night?” he continued. “With the furnace off it might be chilly by morning. We’ll be warm and cozy out there.”

  Sophie nodded. “Bella, too?”

  “Absolutely.” He stood with her still in his arms and grabbed the quilts on her bed. “I’ll come back to get her in a minute.”

  “I’ll bring her,” Abby offered. She leaned over Bella and touched her shoulder. “We’re all going out to sleep by the fireplace. Would you like to join your sister and Jess?”

  The child shifted and mumbled something in her sleep, then her eyes fluttered open. “I wanna go, too.”

  “Of course you do.” Abby snagged her quilts and draped them over her shoulder, then scooped Bella into her arms. “Would you like to bring the pink sparkly bear on your bed?”

  Bella nodded. “That’s my best bear.”

  “Perfect. Let’s go.”

  In the middle of the living room, two extra-long leather sofas faced each other in front of the fireplace; a third faced the fire. A couple of matching recliners and an upholstered rocking chair filled the room, while numerous wildlife prints and an elk-horn chandelier hung from the walls.

  It was a warm and welcoming room, and much more upscale than how she remembered it years ago.

  Abby helped Jess get the girls on the sofas, both snuggling with the extra quilts. The warm, flickering glow and gentle crackling of the fire lulled them back to sleep in minutes.

  Jess hunkered in front of the fire and pushed some of the logs around, then added a few more. The flames highlighted the angles and planes of his face and limned his lean body with golden light, making her wish she had a camera to catch the perfect moment.

  “What about your grandma? Do you think we should bring her out here, too, in case her room starts getting too cold?”

  “She has the bedroom closest to the fireplace, so I think I’ll just go open her door wide and cover her with another blanket. I hate to wake her, but if she stirs, I’ll bring her out here.”

  He disappeared down the bedroom hallway for a few minutes, then returned and eyed the two empty sofas. He settled into one of the leather recliners. “This furniture is soft as marshmallows. I’m not sure it would be much support for her broken hip.”

  Abby curled up with an afghan on the sofa nearest his chair and surveyed the room. “It’s a beautiful room, Jess. Just like out of a magazine. Did you do all of this decorating?”

  A corner of his mouth briefly kicked up. “Nope. I know even less about decorating than I know about heart s
urgery.”

  “Your dad did it?” She remembered him as being tightfisted and short-tempered.

  “Maura.”

  Abby tried to smother a grin. “Ahhh. Sounds like the twins might have reason to worry after all if the vegetable lady comes to call and decorates while she’s here.”

  “That’s her career. Her husband died young, and she needed income. So she started a decorating business in town.”

  “In Pine Bend?”

  “Obviously there wouldn’t ever be many clients around here, so she added a little florist and gift shop later.” He rolled his head against the back of his chair to look at Abby. “After Dad died, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give her some business and help her out. Nothing in this house had changed since Mom passed away over twenty years ago.”

  Chastened, Abby lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have teased. And I really do think she did an amazing job here. I’m surprised she’s not working in some upscale market in a city.”

  Closing his eyes, Jess gave a soft laugh devoid of humor. “Not everyone needs to move far away, Abby. Some find everything they want right in their own hometown...even if it takes them years to figure that out. Like me.”

  * * *

  He was just starting to fall asleep when he heard Abby’s soft, wistful voice.

  “Do you remember when we were back in high school? Some of the neighbor kids would ride their horses over and we’d all play cavalry out in your pastures. Are any of them still around?”

  “The Cavanaughs went bankrupt and moved away not long after their kids grew up. Dad swooped in and bought up their land for pennies on the dollar before any developers could grab it. He always figured my brothers and I would move back to take over the adjoining ranches and help build his Langford empire, but Devlin and Tate couldn’t stay far enough away to suit them. None of us wanted to come home after college, really. Dad wasn’t exactly easy to work for.”

  “But you came back. You could have found a way to pay for vet school and still follow your dreams, but you gave it up.”

  “Yeah, well...Dad was sick, and how could he have managed alone? Devlin is career military and Tate has done too well on the rodeo circuit to give that up. So I had to come back.”

  “You’re a good man, Jess. I hope your dad appreciated what you sacrificed.”

  Jess’s dad had considered Jess’s return to the ranch his duty and privilege, not a sacrifice. And he’d remained as cantankerous as ever until the day he died. “Maybe this isn’t the life I wished for, but it’s been a good life. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  She fell silent for a moment. “What about the Nelsons—are they still around?”

  “They went under, too. And Dad snapped up that ranch as well, just before his health started to fail. Drought and cattle prices have been devastating for a lot of folks around here.”

  “It’s been tough for my dad, too.” She tucked her feet beneath her and wrapped the afghan more snugly around her shoulders. “And he never really got over my brother’s accident. Like your dad, he’d wanted his son to take over the ranch someday.”

  Her older brother had gone off to follow the rodeo circuit with big dreams but not much sense, and he’d spent more time on booze and women than he’d spent on his rodeo career. The consensus around town had been that Bobby’s bull-riding accident was a terrible misfortune but not much of a surprise, given his wild, careless lifestyle.

  “What’s he doing now? I haven’t seen him around here in years.”

  “Computer programming in Seattle. Still bitter about his wheelchair. I was so scared that something like that would happen to you, too,” she said softly. “When I asked you to make a choice and you chose following the rodeo circuit instead of me, you broke my heart,”

  “And you broke mine when you gave me that ultimatum.”

  Back then, Jess had been young, fresh out of college, and felt invincible despite the example of Bobby’s accident years before. There’d been nothing he’d wanted more in life than to rodeo with his cousin Logan, earn money toward the massive cost of vet school, then set up a veterinary practice together.

  “Ironic, isn’t it?” He lifted his somber gaze to meet hers, silently acknowledging their broken past. “I started moving up in the ranks for the annual saddle bronc championship, but barely lasted a full season before Dad got sick and I had to come back to run the ranch anyway.”

  But no matter what had triggered that long-ago confrontation between them, it had only delayed the inevitable. When she’d demanded that he choose between her and his fledgling rodeo career, he’d seen the truth. She hadn’t really cared about him or his lifelong dream to escape his difficult and demanding father and this ranch.

  Earlier tonight he’d come in from the barn exhausted and cold clear down to his bones. The bright, welcoming warmth of the kitchen and the aromas of cookies and dinner had filled him with a sense of peace, as if finding Abby in his kitchen made him feel he was finally, truly home.

  But whenever he thought of what might have been between them, he only had to remind himself that their once-in-a-lifetime love had only ever been in his imagination.

  He might have loved her, but she’d never truly loved him back.

  Chapter Six

  Abby gingerly unfolded herself from the leather sofa, all too aware of her sore muscles after hours spent in the saddle yesterday, and tiptoed past the sleeping twins to add more logs to the dying fire.

  Apparently Betty was still asleep in her room, but Jess was already up and out, and from the rumble of heavy equipment outside she guessed he was already moving snow.

  She stood at the French doors and stared out into a world of white.

  Bright sunshine had turned the glittering, crystalline landscape to a scene as familiar as a moonscape.

  Drifts were banked up to the gutters on the south end of the house and had turned the vehicles outside into giant mounds of whipped cream. A convention of birds was gathered around the bird feeders out in the yard.

  The house lights flickered on. Went dark. Then they came on again and she heard the furnace kick in.

  Still, there’d be no school again today—of that she had no doubt—and the likelihood of taking Betty into town for her rehab appointment seemed pretty slim, unless Jess could clear the long lane out to the highway and the county graders came by in time.

  She glanced around the room, noting the household chores that she could deal with this morning, then headed into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. As soon as it was burbling away, she powered up the laptop she’d left on the counter and started looking through Pinterest for kindergarten-level art projects.

  Whatever else happened today, she was going to do her best to win over those two little girls.

  As if her thoughts had summoned them, she heard a rustle behind her and turned to find Bella standing just inside the kitchen, her long blond curls in a wild nimbus about her head.

  “Where’s Uncle Jess? And where’s my gramma?” Bella demanded.

  Abby looked at her and smiled. “Your uncle is outside clearing snow and Grandma Betty is still asleep. I think she’s still pretty tired from her surgery and all she’s been through.”

  Bella gave her a stony stare, and if this had been a normal parent-child relationship, Abby would have gently called her on her poor manners. But this was a difficult situation.

  Being dumped by a mother who hadn’t bothered to stay in touch would hurt any child, and having Abby appear out of the blue had clearly been a most unwelcome surprise.

  “Are you hungry? I’d love to make you breakfast.”

  The little girl fidgeted from one foot to the other, then looked back toward the living room, where her sister was probably still sleeping.

  “Scrambled eggs? Waffles? Chocolate-chip pancakes? Cereal?”

  Bella wavered, then g
ave a single stubborn shake of her head.

  “It can be hard to decide. Maybe when your sister wakes up, she can decide what she wants and you might want some, too.” Abby smiled. “In the meantime, I’m looking for fun projects we can do together. I found recipes for homemade playdough and finger paints. Or we could make some Christmas ornaments, if you’d like.”

  “Christmas is seven whole weeks away,” Bella murmured, her face downcast. “I can’t wait that long.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Abby said with a sympathetic drop of her shoulders. “But there’s lots of things we can do to get ready, even now. What about cookie decorating? We could make some Christmas cookies now and put them in the freezer.”

  Bella’s eyebrows drew together in consternation. “And not eat any?”

  “Well, of course we have to try them, right? To make sure they’re good? In fact,” Abby added thoughtfully, “maybe we could even decorate pretty cookies for Thanksgiving. I noticed a big box of cookie cutters on a top shelf, and maybe there are some nice turkey and pumpkin shapes.”

  “Yes, indeedy. And we’ve got lots of decorating sugars and sprinkles in every color you can imagine.” Betty pushed her walker into the kitchen and paused to give Bella’s shoulders a squeeze before dropping gingerly into a kitchen chair. “I get them in bulk at an Amish village in the next county. Do you remember buying the Easter colors, Bella?”

  The little girl shook her head.

  “You and Sophie chose pink and purple and blue and yellow. And you did a mighty fine job of decorating, too.”

  Abby poured a cup of coffee and brought it over to Betty. “Did you sleep all right? Jess had the fireplace going last night, so he opened your bedroom door and brought you another blanket.”

  “Warm as toast.”

  Betty shifted awkwardly in her chair and Abby frowned. “Are you uncomfortable? Do you need some of your pain medication?”

  “I’m a tough old bird.” Betty shooed her away. “Less I take of that stuff, the better.”

 

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