Christmas with Carlie

by Julianna Morris

  * * *

  “MANZANITA,” GIDEON SAID ABSENTLY, cleaning his patient’s wound, which seemed to be healing well, with no signs of infection. The one trouble spot proved to be from a piece of embedded glass, suggesting the injury had come from a broken bottle. Cats had impressive recuperative ability, which was how they’d earned a reputation for having nine lives. Still, the little guy had gone through more than enough.

  “Manzanita?” Nicole echoed.

  “The bush. Manzanita bark is unmistakable. You must not be from around here.”

  “I live in Austin, Texas.”

  Gideon flicked a glance in Nicole Forrester’s direction. Who in hell went hiking in a silk blouse, linen slacks and Prada shoes? Not to mention diamond solitaire earrings that were at least two carats each. His failed marriage to a fashion maven had taught him enough to recognize that hefty price tags had accompanied his new client’s clothes and accessories, yet she’d casually talked about tossing the outfit.

  He dodged another swat from the kitten’s claws. “Austin is a big city.”

  “I, um, think it’s the eleventh-largest population center in the United States. And the fastest growing. It’s beautiful and there’s always something to do,” she said, her voice stronger and more enthusiastic than before.

  A true Texan.

  He’d known several people from the Lone Star State and they were proud of all things Texas, whether they’d had anything to do with it or not. Now, Gideon liked Texas. As a twelve-year-old kid he’d vacationed there with his foster parents and the state had a huge amount to offer in entertainment and things to see. But he was done with cities, even nice ones.

  “What tempted a city dweller to go hiking?” he asked.

  “I was restless. I’m not outdoorsy, but it was pretty and fresh in the rain. Look, I don’t understand how a kitten this size got out that far. There weren’t any houses nearby.”

  Gideon finished his exam. “He doesn’t have a microchip and he hasn’t been neutered. It’s almost certainly a case of abandonment.”

  “That’s awful.”

  Gideon agreed. Animals could be brought to the local shelter without any cost; they’d never turned one away, though it often stretched the private rescue group’s resources. But the responsible party wasn’t necessarily local. Sadly, some people would drive quite a distance, just to dump an unwanted pet.

  The faint fragrance of an expensive perfume drifted into his consciousness and he scowled. He respected Nicole Forrester’s willingness to help an animal in distress, but he refused to find her attractive. For one thing, his divorce from a similar city woman with expensive tastes had just become final. And for another, he’d just bought the veterinary clinic and couldn’t afford distractions.

  “We’ve done as much as possible for today,” Gideon said briskly. “I’m only giving him the core vaccinations. The others can wait until he’s in better shape. No sense in overloading his body too much.”

  * * *

  “BUT HE’S GOING to be all right?” Nicole asked.

  “Barring complications. This isn’t the city. Life after being dumped is rough.”

  Nicole gritted her teeth. Gideon Cartwright seemed competent and was the handsomest man she’d met in ages, but the kitten didn’t like him and she was in wholehearted agreement. The doctor’s brusqueness made her want to shrivel; it was only for the kitten’s sake that she’d stood up to him earlier.

  “I’m sure life is rough for abandoned animals in a city, too,” she managed to say.

  Dr. Cartwright just shrugged and put a stiff cone around the kitten’s neck. The kitten meowed in displeasure and pawed at it.

  “What’s that for?”

  “To keep him from fussing at his injury.”

  Great, he’ll just scratch his head off, instead.

  “Haven’t you ever dealt with animals?” the vet asked with a patronizing expression.

  “No.” Nicole didn’t want to admit that anything larger than a small cat made her nervous. Loud dogs were particularly bad. Being a coward wasn’t something she was proud of and the veterinarian’s superior attitude was particularly hard to take. He didn’t seem like someone who’d ever doubted himself for a minute, while she doubted herself all the time.

  “Well, we’ll transfer this guy to the local animal rescue. He mostly needs love and good food to recover and he’ll get it there.”

  Nicole’s shoulders straightened. “What makes you think he couldn’t get that with me?”

  “You’re an out-of-state visitor and hardly equipped to take care of an animal at Poppy Gold. But don’t worry—rescued animals have a home for life at the Glimmer Creek shelter, even if they aren’t adopted. He’ll be fine.”

  She pushed down her tremors, flattened her hands on the exam table and leaned toward Gideon Cartwright for emphasis. “I’m not abandoning him. I’ll ask the Poppy Gold housekeeper to provide whatever is necessary. It can’t be much—you said yourself that he mostly needs food and love.”

  * * *

  GIDEON’S JAW HARDENED.

  He’d known Nicole Forrester was trouble the minute he’d spotted her in his waiting room. However mussed from rain and the rigors of rescuing a kitten, she’d radiated an aura of money and privilege. And her casual assumption that she could call upon the Poppy Gold housekeeping staff to provide supplies was just further proof she didn’t live in the real world.

  “Poppy Gold is a Victorian village, filled with antiques and architectural treasures,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “How much damage can a little kitten do? Anyway, I’m keeping him. We’re staying through the first week in January, which should be enough time for him to recover and get to know me. He won’t have to fly in the cargo hold on the way home, if that’s what you’re concerned about. We’ll return in my brother’s private jet.”

  Thoroughly frustrated, Gideon stomped out to the empty waiting room and called Poppy Gold to get her a ride, deciding not to warn them ahead of time that she expected to keep the cat in her suite. They promised someone would arrive within a few minutes.

  Then he grabbed a cardboard animal carrier and bag of kitten food, glad it was lunchtime and no one was there to witness his foul mood.

  “Here.” He returned to the exam room, put the food on the table and assembled the carrier. The kitten went inside, complaining loudly.

  “Maybe I could carry him in my jacket,” Nicole said tentatively. He’d noticed she seemed a bit nervous most of the time, but maybe it was the unfamiliarity of a vet clinic.

  “A closed carrier is safer.” Gideon made several notes in the computer medical file, hoping the shuttle would arrive quickly. He couldn’t shove Nicole and his patient out in the cold or leave her alone in the waiting room.

  He held up the bag of food.

  “This is the kitten food I recommend for the first year. After that, switch him to the adult formula. Take it with you. Keep him quiet while he recovers. I’ve called Poppy Gold to pick you up, so we should check to see if they’ve arrived. I’ll show you out.”

  “What do I do about the bill?”

  “Call the office with a credit card.” Through the waiting room window, Gideon saw a Poppy Gold Inns vehicle pull up in front of the clinic. He escorted Nicole to the exterior door and unlocked it. “You’ll need cat litter and a litter box. Give him fresh water each day, but separate his food and water bowls. That’s what felines prefer.”

  “How far?”

  “Several feet, at the very least. Let us know if the kitten’s condition changes in any way for the worse, including fever, lethargy and any flu-like symptoms,” he explained rapidly. “I can’t stay to talk. I need to check on my surgical patient. Have a good afternoon.”

  When she was safely gone, Gideon strode back to the surgical area. His veteri
nary assistant looked at him inquiringly. Sandra was sitting with the ancient English bulldog who’d had an abscessed tooth removed. Bogey had a heart murmur and required special monitoring.

  “Go to lunch,” he said. “I’ll take over.”

  Sandra smiled. “I don’t mind staying. He’s a wonderful old dog. A real gentleman.”

  “Nah, go ahead. I’ve got it.”

  Soon the only sound was Bogey’s sonorous breathing. He was awake, but not particularly alert, partly because of the pain medication. Occasionally he rolled his eyes back as if to ask what the heck had happened to him, but he didn’t try to move.

  Gideon stroked the bulldog’s neck, unable to get Nicole Forrester out of his mind. We’ll return in my brother’s private jet. A private jet? She made his ex-wife look like a piker in the pampered princess department.

  Why was he so stupidly drawn to women like that? Either he was a glutton for punishment or needed his head examined.

  CHAPTER SIX

  LUKE WAITED FOR a while to see if Nicole would return in time for lunch, and then walked with the girls to a pizza place he’d seen near the brick-paved pedestrian shopping street.

  He wasn’t overly impressed with the restaurants in Glimmer Creek so far. The offerings seemed limited to things like steak houses and glorified hamburger stands.

  Figuring the vegetables would be canned or prepackaged, he ordered an olive-and-pepperoni pizza, only to notice mushrooms and other toppings being prepared fresh in the open kitchen.

  “I’d like to change my order,” he said to the cashier, who had given him a credit-card slip to sign.

  “Oh.” The kid, who was probably barely out of high school, looked down at the cash register, nonplussed. He fiddled with the keys for a moment before turning his head. “Boss, how do you cancel a charge? Someone wants to change their order.”

  A faint ripple of groans went through the line of people who’d come in behind them.

  A woman with a no-nonsense air came over and reversed the transaction.

  “What will you have, sir?” she asked crisply.

  Luke checked the menu. “A medium vegetarian pizza with artichoke hearts to go. And to eat here, a medium special pizza with extra mushrooms and...” He focused on Beth and Annie, realizing he should have asked their preferences first. “What would you like, girls?”

  They whispered in each other’s ears for a minute. “Pineapple,” Beth finally pronounced.

  “You mean Hawaiian, with Canadian bacon.”

  Beth shook her head. “Just pineapple.”

  The growing crowd behind them was getting restless and Luke gave them a cool glance. There were two cash registers and it wasn’t his fault that the restaurant had only opened one.

  He focused on the woman taking his order. “In addition to the pizza to go, we’ll have a medium pizza to eat here, half the special with extra mushrooms, the other half with just pineapple. We’d also like a pitcher of lemonade and an order of cheese bread sticks with marinara sauce.”

  The woman rang up the charge and handed him a new slip. “Please sign here, Mr. Forrester.”

  Luke signed and took the girls to a table. The restaurant was similar to some of the dives he’d eaten at while in college. A trust fund from his paternal grandparents had been available to help with his education expenses, but he’d used most of it to start buying and selling real estate and investing in stocks. It hadn’t left money for high living.

  The teenager had returned to the cash register and was taking orders. Luke heard him apologize for the delay, saying their second cash register was broken and they were waiting for repairs. So that was the explanation.

  The pitcher of lemonade arrived and he poured three glasses, wishing he could have the coffee supplied at Poppy Gold instead. The food they served was excellent, as well.

  When the pizzas and bread sticks were brought to the table, he handed the server a twenty-dollar bill, though tips left on the table hadn’t been customary at the pizza parlors he’d gone to in college. “Thanks. Can you tell me if the Poppy Gold caterer runs a restaurant in town?”

  “Not a restaurant, but a bakery called Sarah’s Sweet Treats. It’s just down the street. Did you need change, sir?” she asked, gesturing with the bill he’d given her.

  “No, that’s for you. I just wanted to be sure you got it.” She looked surprised, then smiled her thanks before hurrying away. He served slices to Beth and Annie. “Let the food cool down,” he warned, and they obediently kept their hands in their laps until he told them it was all right.

  The food was tasty, but Luke was distracted watching his daughters. Pineapple? He liked Hawaiian pizza with Canadian bacon and pineapple, just not by itself. He’d half expected the twins to wrinkle their noses and refuse to eat after taking a bite, or else to scrape off the fruit, but they seemed to enjoy their choice.

  The sky had cleared by the time they came out of the pizza parlor and the girls’ moods brightened. On the walk back to Poppy Gold, Annie cried, “Carlie!” and took off running, with Beth not far behind.

  Luke caught up with them and Carlie gestured to the pizza box he carried. “I see you’ve discovered Valentino’s.”

  “It reminds me of the pizza I ate in college.”

  “I also like Giancarlo’s Little Italy. They deliver, too, which is nice. I particularly enjoy their pasta primavera and salads.”

  He knew he’d annoyed her on Saturday night with his comment about an interview, though she’d tried to conceal her reaction. Since then she’d been coolly pleasant to him, but with the girls she was warm and approachable and they’d continued asking her to attend various activities with them. At a choral performance in the concert hall late Sunday afternoon, Annie had actually sat on Carlie’s lap, while Beth leaned against her shoulder.

  “By the way,” Luke said, “what did you want to talk to me about on Saturday? We never got back to it.”

  “Maybe Annie and Beth would like to check out our DVD library while we chat,” she suggested.

  “Sure.”

  Apparently Carlie wanted a private discussion. They returned to Old City Hall and she took them into one of the rooms they hadn’t seen before, behind the reception area. It was paneled in mahogany, with an ornate fireplace and chandelier. Bookshelves matching the paneling covered most of the wall space.

  “Nice,” Luke murmured.

  “This used to be the mayor’s office. According to the stories, he paid to finish the interior of city hall, thinking it would guarantee his reelection, only to get booted out midterm when the citizenry discovered...” Carlie’s voice trailed off and she looked at the girls. “Annie, Beth, kids’ books and DVDs are over there.” She pointed to the opposite end of the room and the twins began exploring.

  “Discovered what?” Luke asked in a low tone, suspecting it was one of two things.

  “That Mayor Colonel Stafford owned a string of brothels from Coloma to San Diego. He was also invested in shipping and patent medicines, but most of his wealth came from old-fashioned sex.”

  Owning brothels wasn’t one of the options Luke had considered. “Really?”

  “Definitely. Glimmer Creek started out as a rough-and-ready gold mining camp, but when Victorian civility took over, the town got prudish. For years a number of women refused to even enter Old City Hall because the services of ‘good-time’ girls had paid for the decorating.”

  Shaking his head, Luke set the pizza he’d gotten for Nicole on one of the side tables, only to have Carlie scoop it up with a faintly alarmed expression.

  “That’s an antique, original to the office,” she advised hastily. “Let me have this delivered to the John Muir Cottage for you.”

  “I’ll handle it,” volunteered the young woman who’d stepped in from the reception area.

  “Than
ks, Christine.”

  Luke was rarely embarrassed, but discomfort went through him. The pizza box was warm and damp. Grease also stained the lid and presumably the bottom, so placing it on an antique table hadn’t been the best move.

  “That won’t be necessary,” he said. “I’ll pick it up at the front desk.”

  “Very well, Mr. Forrester.”

  Christine exchanged a look with Carlie and left.

  “What burning topic do you want to discuss?” Luke asked.

  “Hardly burning,” Carlie returned. “I wondered if Annie and Beth would each like to decorate a Christmas tree for their bedroom. They have such different styles, I thought it would be nice if they could explore them in a personal tree.”

  Though Luke recognized the differences between his identical twin daughters, it surprised him that a virtual stranger had seen the same thing. But then, Carlie was unusual. She’d been able to tell Beth and Annie apart from the beginning, something few people could do, even after knowing them for years.

  “I’m sure they’d love it.”

  Carlie smiled. “In that case, I’ve already selected two high-quality artificial trees and boxes of ornaments for the project. I’ll bring them over tomorrow and leave everything on the porch if you aren’t there. I thought the trees could be Annie’s and Beth’s own individual works of art.”

  “I suppose, though they’ll probably look similar when they’re done.”

  Carlie hiked one eyebrow. “If that’s what you think, then I suggest you watch which ornaments they pick and distract Beth from convincing Annie to make different choices.” She checked the grandfather clock ticking in one corner. “Um, I have to go. If you want any books or DVDs, they can be checked out with the front desk. Don’t forget your pizza in Guest Reception.”

  * * *

  CARLIE HURRIED OUT.

  She didn’t know if she’d crossed the line with her remark about Beth, but Luke didn’t seem to realize how often Beth overrode her sister’s wishes. In the few days they’d been at Poppy Gold, Carlie had already seen it happen several times.