“How do you fit into these dreams?”
“I’m off building something, in some other part of the world. At the same time, I’m there somehow, watching Sophie. And who knows where you are. I don’t want to scare you or anything, but you haven’t been a guest star.”
“Go on,” Tessa said.
“I love my daughter, Tessa,” Tanner said. “I don’t want her to end up—well, alone like that.”
Tessa’s gray eyes widened, and a smile flicked at the corner of her mouth. She was still beautiful, and she still got acting offers, but she always turned them down because it would mean leaving her horses. “Sophie’s been miserable at boarding school,” she said. “Last fall, when it was time for her to go back, she begged me to let her stay on with me at the farm. I wanted so much to say yes, and damn your opinion in the matter, but things were going downhill fast between Paul and me even then. She’d heard us fighting all summer, and I knew it wasn’t good for her.”
“I thought she was safe at school.”
“‘Thought’? Past tense? What’s happened, Tanner?”
Briefly Tanner explained what Sophie had told him about the easy availability of meth and ice at Briarwood. “It’s not like Stone Creek is Brigadoon or anything.” He sighed. “A kid can probably score any kind of drug right here in rural America. But I really thought I had all the bases covered.”
“Give Sophie a little credit,” Tessa said, and though her tone was firm, she reached across the table to touch Tanner’s hand. “She’s way too smart to do drugs.”
“I know,” Tanner answered. “But I’ve always thought she’d be happy when she grew up—that she’d come to understand that I had her best interests at heart, sending her away to school….”
“And the dreams made you question that?”
Tanner nodded. “They’re so—so real, Tess. I can’t shake the feeling that Sophie’s going to have no life outside her work—all because she doesn’t know how to be part of a family.”
“Heavy stuff,” Tessa said. “Are you in love with Olivia?”
“I don’t know what I feel,” Tanner answered, after a long silence. “And I don’t necessarily have to get married to give Sophie a home, do I? I could sell off the overseas part of the business, or just close it down. I’d still have to do some traveling, but if you were here—”
“Hold it,” Tessa broke in. “I can’t promise I’m going to stay, Tanner. And one way or the other, I don’t intend to live off your generosity like some poor relation.”
“You won’t have to,” Tanner said. “There’s money, Tess. Kat and I set it aside for you a long time ago.”
Tessa’s cheeks colored up. Her pride was kicking in, just as Tanner had known it would. “What?”
“You put me through college on what you earned when you were acting, Tessa,” he reminded her. “You took care of Gram while I was in the service and then getting the business started. You’re entitled to all the help I can give you.”
Tessa went from pink to pale. Her eyes narrowed. “I can provide for myself,” she said.
“Can you?” Tanner countered. “Good for you. Because that’s more than I could do when I was in college and for a long time after that, and it’s more than Gram could have managed, too, with just her Social Security and the take from that roadside vegetable stand of hers.”
“How much money, Tanner?”
“Enough,” Tanner said. He got up, walked to the small desk in the corner of the kitchen and jerked a bound folder out of the drawer. Returning to the table, he tossed it down in front of her.
Tessa opened the portfolio and stared at the figures, her eyes rounding at all those zeroes.
“The magic of compound interest,” Tanner said.
“This money should be Sophie’s,” Tessa whispered, her voice thin and very soft. “My God, Tanner, this is a fortune.”
“Sophie has a trust fund. I started it with Kat’s life insurance check, and the last time I looked, it was around twice that much.”
Tessa swallowed, looked up at him in shock, momentarily speechless.
“You can draw on it, or let it grow. My accountant has the tax angle all figured out, and it’s in my name until the divorce is final, so Paul can’t touch it.” Still standing, Tanner folded his arms. “It’s up to you, Tess. You’re real good at giving. How are you at receiving?”
Tessa huffed out a stunned breath. “I could buy out Paul’s half of the horse farm—”
“Or you could start over, right here, with a place of your own. No bad memories attached. Times are hard, and there are a lot of good people looking to sell all or part of their land.”
“I can’t think. Tanner, this is—this is unbelievable! I knew you were doing well, but I had no idea…”
“I’m late,” he said.
On his way out, he checked on the puppies, found them sleeping in their box by the stove, curled up together as if they were still in the womb. They were so small, so helpless, so wholly trusting.
His throat tightened as he took his coat off the peg on the wall by the back door. He couldn’t help drawing a parallel between the pups and Sophie.
“I’ll be at the job site in town,” he said. “You have my cell number if you need anything.”
Tessa was still hunched over the portfolio. Her shoulders were shaking a little, so Tanner figured she was crying, though he couldn’t be sure, with her back to him and all.
“Will you be okay here alone?” he asked gruffly.
She nodded vigorously, but didn’t turn around to meet his gaze.
That damnable pride again.
Grabbing up his truck keys from the counter, he left the house. It was snowing so hard by then, he figured he’d probably let the construction crew off an hour or two early.
And Olivia had agreed to go to the dance with him that night.
It wasn’t quite the date he’d had in mind, but she was planning to wear a dress, and Tessa would be on hand to keep an eye on Sophie after the tree-lighting and the carnival.
This was shaping up to be a half-decent Christmas.
Climbing behind the wheel of the truck, Tanner started the engine, whistling “Jingle Bells” under his breath, and headed for town.
* * *
Ashley, with the help of a few very tall elves in college sweatshirts, was on a high ladder decorating her annual mongo Christmas tree when Olivia and Ginger showed up at noon.
“I need to borrow a dress for the dance,” Olivia said.
“Hello to you, too,” Ashley replied. She still looked a little feeble, but she was obviously into the holiday spirit, or she wouldn’t have been decking the halls. And if she had a clue that Delia was in Flagstaff, luxuriously hospitalized, it didn’t show. “I’m taller than you are. Anything I loaned you would have to be hemmed. I don’t have time for that, and you can’t sew.”
“I sew all the time. It’s called surgery. Ashley, this is an emergency. Can I raid your closet? Please? The hardware store doesn’t sell dresses, and I don’t have time to drive up to Flagstaff and shop.”
Ashley waved her toward the stairs. “Anything but the blue velvet number with the little beads. I’m wearing that myself.”
Olivia wiggled her eyebrows. Ginger snugged herself up on the hooked rug in front of the crackling blaze in the fireplace and relaxed into a power nap. That dog was at home anywhere. And everywhere.
“You have a date?” Olivia asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Ashley replied, carefully draping a single strand of tinsel over a branch. She’d do that two jillion times, to make the tree look perfect. “It’s a blind date, if you must know. A friend of Tanner Quinn’s—he’s going to be staying here. The friend, not Tanner.”
Olivia paused at the base of the stairway. “I hope it goes well,” she said. “It could be awkward living under the same roof with a bad date until next spring.”
“Thanks a heap, Liv. Now I’m twice as nervous.”
Olivia hurried up th
e stairs. She still had to broach the subject of Ashley whipping up something spectacular for her to give Tanner, Sophie and Tessa for Christmas. An ice castle, made of sugar, she thought. Failing that, fancy cookies would work—the kind with colored frosting and sugar sparkles.
But the outfit had to come first.
Ashley’s room was almost painfully tidy—the bed made, all the furniture matching, the prints tastefully arranged on the pale pink walls. Everywhere she looked, there was lace, or ruffles, or both.
It was almost impossible to imagine a man in that room.
Olivia sighed, thinking of her own jumbled bed, liberally sprinkled with dog hair. Her clothes were all over the floor, and she hadn’t seen the surface of the dresser in weeks.
Yikes. If the date with Tanner went the way she hoped it would, she’d wish she’d spruced the place up a little—but at least he wouldn’t have to contend with lace and ruffles.
She would cut out of the clinic an hour early that afternoon, assuming there were no disasters in the interim. Run the vacuum cleaner, dust a little, change the sheets.
She turned her mind back to the task at hand. Ashley’s closet was jammed, but organized. Even color coded, for heaven’s sake. Olivia swiped a pair of black velvet palazzo pants—probably gaucho pants on Ashley—and tried them on. If she rolled them up at the waist and wore her high-heeled boots, she probably wouldn’t catch a toe in a hem and fall on her face.
A red silk tank top and a glittering silver shawl completed the ensemble.
Piece of cake, Olivia thought smugly, heading out of the room and back down the stairs with the garments draped over one arm.
At the bottom of the steps, just opening her mouth to pitch the sugar-ice-castle idea to Ashley, she stopped in her tracks.
A guy stood just inside the front door, and what a guy he was. Military haircut, hard body, straight back and shoulders. Wearing black from head to foot. Only the twinkle in his hazel eyes as he looked up at Ashley saved him from looking like a CIA agent trying to infiltrate a terrorist cell.
Ashley, staring back at him, seemed in imminent danger of toppling right off the ladder.
The air sizzled.
“Jack McCall,” Ashley marveled. “You son of a bitch!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jack McCall grinned and saluted. “Good to see you again, Ash,” he said, admiring her with a sweep of his eyes. “Are we still going to the dance together tonight?”
Ashley shinnied down the ladder, which was no mean trick in a floor-length Laura Ashley jumper. “I wouldn’t go anywhere with you, you jerk,” she cried. “Get out of my house!”
Olivia’s mouth fell open. Ashley was the consummate bed-and-breakfast owner. She never screamed at guests—and Mr. McCall was clearly a guest, since he had a suitcase—much less called them sons of bitches.
“Sorry,” McCall said, crossing his eyes a little at the finger Ashley was about to shake under his nose. “The deal’s made, the lease is signed and I’m here until spring. On and off.”
The college-student elves had long since fled, but Olivia and Ginger remained, both of them fascinated.
“She’s crazy about him,” Ginger said.
“Look, Ash,” McCall went on smoothly, “I know we had that little misunderstanding over the cocktail waitress, but don’t you think we ought to let bygones be bygones?”
This man worked for Tanner? Olivia thought, trying to catch up with the conversation. He didn’t look like the type to work for anyone but himself—or maybe the president.
Where had Ashley met him?
And what was the story with the cocktail waitress?
“I was young and stupid,” Ashley spouted, putting her hands on her hips.
“But very beautiful.” Jack McCall sighed. “And you still are, Ash. It’s good to see you again.”
“I bet you said the same thing to the cocktail waitress!” Ashley cried.
Jack looked, Olivia thought, like a young, modern version of Cary Grant. Impishly chagrined and way too handsome. And where had she heard his name before?
“She meant nothing to me,” Jack said.
Olivia rolled her eyes. What a charmer he was. But he and Ashley looked perfect together, even if Ashley was trembling with fury.
It was time to step in, before things escalated.
Olivia hurried over and took her sister by the arm, tugging her toward the kitchen and, at the same time, chiming rapid-fire at McCall, over one shoulder, “Hi. I’m Olivia O’Ballivan, Ashley’s sister. Glad to meet you. Make yourself at home while I talk her into building an ice castle out of sugar, will you? Thanks.”
“An ice castle?” Ashley demanded once they were in the kitchen.
“With turrets, and lights inside. I’ll pay you big bucks. Who is that guy, Ash?”
Ashley’s shoulders sagged. She blew out a breath, and her bangs fluttered in midair. “He’s nobody,” she said.
“Get real. I know passion when I see it.”
“I knew him in college,” Ashley admitted.
“You never mentioned dating the reincarnation of Cary Grant.”
“He dropped me for a cocktail waitress. Why would I want to mention that? I felt like an idiot.”
“That was a while ago, Ash.”
“Don’t you have to get back to work or something?”
Ginger meandered in. “There’ll be a hot time in the old town tonight,” she said.
“Hush,” Olivia said.
“I will not hush,” Ashley said. “And what’s this about a sugar ice castle with lights inside?”
“I need something special to give the Quinns for Christmas, and you’re the only one I know with that kind of—”
“Time on her hands?” Ashley finished ominously.
“Talent,” Olivia said sweetly. “The only one with that kind of talent.”
“You are so full of it.”
Olivia batted her eyelashes. “But I’m your big sister, and you love me. I’m always there for you, and if you ever had a pet, I’d give it free veterinary care. For life.”
“No sugar castle,” Ashley said. “I have a million things to do, with all these guests checking in.” She paused. “If I murdered Jack McCall, would you testify that I was with you and give me an alibi?”
“Only if you made me a few batches of your stupendous Christmas cookies so I could give them to Sophie and Tanner.”
Ashley smiled in spite of her earlier ire, but pain lingered in her eyes, old and deep. Jack McCall had hurt her, and suddenly he seemed a whole lot less charming than before. “I’ll bake the cookies,” she said. “God knows where I’ll find the time, but I’ll do it.”
Olivia kissed her sister’s cheek. “I’m beyond grateful. Are you really going to refuse to rent McCall a room?”
“It’s Christmas,” Ashley said musingly. “And anyway, if he’s here, under my roof, I can find lots of ways to get back at him. By New Year’s, he’ll be begging to break the lease.”
Olivia laughed, held up the armload of clothes. “Thanks, Ash,” she said. “In this getup, I’ll be a regular Cinderella.”
“Shall I stay here and spy, or go back to the clinic with you?” Ginger inquired, looking from Ashley to Olivia.
“You’re going with me,” Olivia said on the way back to the living room. She’d have gone out the back way, as the fleeing elves probably had, but she wanted one more look at Jack McCall.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Ashley argued, following. “I’ve still got to tie at least a hundred bows on the branches of the Christmas tree.”
“I was talking to Ginger,” Olivia explained breezily.
“And I suppose she talked back?” Ashley asked.
“Skeptic,” Olivia said.
Jack McCall had taken off his coat, and his bag sat at the base of the stairs. Evidently he was planning to stay on. The poor guy probably had no idea how many passive-aggressive ways there were for a crafty bed-and-breakfast owner to make an unwanted guest hit the road.
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Too much starch in the sheets.
Too much salt in the stew.
The possibilities were endless.
Olivia was smiling broadly as she and Ginger descended Ashley’s front steps, headed for the Suburban.
* * *
Fat flakes of snow drifted down from a heavy sky as the entire population of Stone Creek and half of Indian Rock gathered in the town’s tiny park for the annual tree-lighting ceremony.
Sophie stood at Olivia’s left side, Tanner at her right.
Brad had been roped into being the MC, but it was an informal gig, and he didn’t have to sing. He announced that the high school gym was all decked out for the carnival and the dance afterward, and reminded the crowd that all the proceeds would go to worthy causes.
An enormous live spruce awaited splendor, its branches dark and fragrant, strings of extension cord running from beneath it. Roots enclosed in burlap, it would be planted when the ground thawed, like all the other Stone Creek Christmas trees before it.
“Are we ready?” Brad asked, holding the switch.
“YES!” roared the townspeople in one happy voice.
Brad flipped the plastic lever, and what seemed like millions of tiny colored lights shimmered in the cold winter night, like stars trapped in the branches.
The applause sounded like a herd of cattle stampeding.
The din had barely subsided when sleigh bells jingled, right on cue.
Tanner grinned down at Olivia and took her hand. She felt a little trill, though she was a bit nervous because she’d already had to surreptitiously roll up her borrowed palazzo pants a couple of times.
“Could it be?” Brad said into the mic. “Could Santa Claus be right here in Stone Creek?”
The smaller children in the crowd waited in breathless silence, their eyes huge with wonder and anticipation.
It happened every year. Santa arrived on a tractor from the heavy-equipment rental place, bells jingling an accompaniment through a scratchy PA system, the man in the red suit waving and tossing candy and shouting, “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
This year was a little different, it turned out.
Kris Kringle himself drove the fancy tree-lot sleigh, the one with the brass runners, into the center of the park—pulled by seven real live reindeer and a donkey. He wore hands down the best Santa suit Olivia had ever seen, and instead of candy, he had a huge, bulky green velvet bag in the back of the sleigh.
A Stone Creek Collection, Volume 2 Page 16