“The label may have been suggested a time or two. But I would argue, ultimately, no.”
He pulled the roasted potatoes from the oven, as well as a foil-wrapped package containing the tofu-turkey breast, sliced and lathered with mushroom gravy.
“That smells really, really delicious.”
“Good. Let’s eat.”
Court loved that Callan ate with gusto, not seeming to care if something was high-fat or too sweet. They both enjoyed large slices of pumpkin pie after their main course, and several truffles, and coffee spiced with brandy, as well.
“Where do you put the food?” he asked her when they were sprawled on either side of the sofa, enjoying the last of their coffee, empty dessert plates stacked on the side table.
“I honestly don’t know. I can’t remember the last time I ate so much.”
She had lost weight since Hawksley died, so the big meal was probably needed. Court admired her compact body, the slender hips, the small, high breasts. She had the tight, slender muscles of a gymnast or a ballet dancer. Lithe, but also strong.
“I hear you haven’t been going out much on the weekends anymore. I went into Grey’s the other night and a few people asked about you.”
“Was Dillon one of them?”
“No. Why?”
“He’s the main reason I haven’t been going there. I don’t want to run into him, not after the way I broke the news about us being half-siblings.”
“You’re going to have to talk about it sooner or later.”
“Yeah. I pick later.” She took a drink of coffee. “So, is Grey’s growing on you? It didn’t seem like your sort of place last time I saw you there.”
“I’d like it better if they played jazz.”
She hooted. “You are in the wrong state for that, McAllister.”
He smiled. “I suppose that’s true.” He noticed she was almost finished her coffee. Not wanting her to leave, he suggested watching a movie and when she agreed, found one about to start on TV, The Family Stone. Though it was an oldie, he’d never seen it before and was taken aback by the powerful and sad ending. “Did you see that coming?” he asked, after getting up for a tissue to blow his nose.
“I’ve seen it before.” She sighed. “It’s life, right. You want things to stay the same, but they never do.”
He thought about his mother. The way she’d been last year, before the stroke. The way she was now. “That’s for sure.”
“I should get going. I promised Sage I’d open her chocolate shop early, for Black Friday. She’s knocking down the price on her Thanksgiving gift boxes and solid chocolate pumpkins by fifty percent. The place is going to be a zoo.”
He couldn’t believe they’d managed to have a completely civil, pleasant evening together. It made him wonder what would have happened if they’d met under other circumstances. Maybe she might have liked him, if she hadn’t had her mind so set on hating him.
He was tempted to ask if she had changed her mind about his offer.
But he didn’t want to wreck the moment.
“I’ll walk you home.”
“No. I’ll be fine.”
There were good reasons to argue with her, mountain lions being the top of his list. But he could tell by the set of her jaw that it would be no use. For that same reason he didn’t try to kiss her again, either.
Even though he wanted to.
Very much.
As Callan had predicted, Black Friday at Copper Mountain Chocolates was insane. Fortunately Sage had arranged for both of her employees, Rose Linn and Dakota Eastman, to be on hand when they opened. A rush of customers were waiting, and more kept coming.
“It seems like everyone in Marietta is buying chocolate today,” Callan said to Rose as she tied copper-colored ribbon around one of the packages.
“Well, it’s not often Sage has a sale. She doesn’t need to offer a discount to move merchandise. Today and after Christmas are her only exceptions.”
Around one in the afternoon, Dawson and Savannah dropped Sage off at the back door, having left Mattie’s place at the crack of dawn so Sage could get to work. Sage quickly tied back her hair, donned an apron and joined them in the front. She sent Rose and Dakota out for a lunch break, and promised Callan she could take one, too, once the others returned.
“No problem. I’ve been snacking on chocolate.” Callan grinned. “Anyway, I didn’t expect you to show up for another couple of hours.”
“We were on the road before six. I felt guilty about not being here for the busiest shopping day of the year.”
“Excuse me, Miss.” A woman in her fifties tapped Callan on the arm. “Do you have any more of the milk chocolate pumpkins?”
“Are we out again?” Callan eyed the shelves, surprised to see they were almost empty. “Hang on, I’ll get some more.” Seconds later she returned from the back room with a fresh supply. Almost before she could stack them on the shelves, they were whisked from her hands by customers, including the lady who had originally asked for them.
Once Rose and Dakota returned from lunch, Callan took a break to grab a sandwich and coffee from Java Cafe. By three o’clock business settled down enough that Callan and Sage were able to chat privately for a few minutes in the kitchen while they packaged more fruit and nut bark for display.
“So how was Thanksgiving? Did you spill the beans about being pregnant?”
“I did.” Sage smiled and her skin flushed. “I had planned to make a big announcement at Christmas, but in the end I just couldn’t keep the secret. Besides, I had to give a reason for why I wasn’t feeling well in the morning and wasn’t drinking wine with dinner.”
“Oh, I bet Mattie was excited.”
“Everyone was. Dani, especially. She really regrets keeping her own pregnancy secret, now.”
Callan knew that Sage had really been hurt by that. But Callan sympathized with Dani. She, too, had trouble sharing things that worried or frightened her. And Dani had been under a lot of pressure with that pregnancy.
“By the way,” Sage said, “Mattie and Dani have both read Mom’s diaries. They said reading her entries helped them understand why she stayed with Dad, but also why she loved Bill Sheenan. I’m going to read them next. Unless you’d like to, first?”
“No, you go ahead.” Callan wasn’t sure she was ready to handle more emotional baggage from the past. “Were you impressed with the Double D Ranch?” she asked, changing the subject to something less controversial.
“Oh, it’s beautiful! You should see the equestrian barn—totally state of the art.”
“Even nicer than the one at Bishop Stables?” Callan would never forget the first time she had seen that one, shortly after Mattie and Wes were married. The wrought iron stalls had struck her as especially beautiful, but Hawksley had denounced them as much too “fancy.”
“I wondered if it was possible. But yes, it is.”
“Is Mattie getting back into breeding Tennessee Walkers?”
“I think she’d like to. But since Wes sold all the horses out on her, she has to start again from scratch.”
“I still can’t believe he did that. I never was a fan of Wes, but the way he acted when he wanted out of his marriage with Mattie—it was really low.”
“Agreed. I’m so glad she had a great guy like Nat to offer support.”
“Yes. I just hope he stays healthy and strong for as long as possible.”
“Mattie wants to take each day as it comes. I think that’s the only approach that makes sense. None of us know what the future will bring.”
Callan nodded. The past few months had certainly taught her how quickly life could change. Sometimes, like with Mattie and Nat, for the better. And sometimes, as in her case, for the worse.
Throughout December Callan stayed busy helping Sage at Copper Mountain Chocolates. In her spare time, she continued to pack up personal effects from the ranch house, as well as scouring the internet for properties available in the Marietta area. She found a few with
potential. One was a simple log home sitting on fifty acres suitable for grazing and riding. She could possibly start a horse boarding and training business on a place like that.
Or get into horse breeding, like Mattie.
But...she wasn’t a horse person, she was a rancher. And there was a big difference between the two.
On the second Sunday before Christmas, Sage, Dawson and Savannah came over after breakfast to ready the ranch house for Christmas. Callan wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Part of her wanted to just get on Montana Sapphire and disappear for the day.
But Savannah was so excited. “We get to go on a wagon ride and pick out the trees ourselves! And Sage brought hot cocoa and peppermint shortbread. And Dad’s going to make a fire.”
Callan couldn’t figure out a way to tell the little kid she didn’t want to participate. So she went. Dawson hitched the wagon to his truck and headed down back roads to a wooded area where they selected an eight-foot fir for the foyer and a much taller white pine for the living area.
True to his word, Dawson made a nice fire for them to sit around while they enjoyed cocoa from the big thermos Sage had brought, as well as several sweet and buttery cookies each.
Savannah prattled happily, but Callan tuned her out. She remembered times when her mother had been alive and their family had gone together to chop down Christmas trees. There had always been the two. One for the foyer and one for the living room.
After her mother’s death, those outings had stopped. Hawksley still cut down the trees but he did the job on his own, hauling them into the house and putting them into the stands with the help of one of his hired men.
He left the task of decorating to Callan and her sisters while he watched television alone in his study.
No, the family traditions had not been the same after their mother died. But Dani—Mattie was already married with twins of her own—had done her best to make the process fun for Sage and Callan. They’d made popcorn and listened to Christmas music. They’d done their best.
Two years later, Dani moved to Seattle to go to college. And four years after that Sage was gone, too, competing on the barrel-racing circuit. It had been left to Callan to decorate the trees, alone, after Hawksley put them up. She hadn’t bothered with popcorn or Christmas carols, performing the job instead to the muffled sounds of a hockey game playing on the television in Hawksley’s study.
“You’re awfully quiet.” Sage put her arm over Callan’s shoulders.
“Just thinking.”
“About Christmases past?”
Callan smiled ruefully. “How did you guess?”
“It’s only natural, since this will be the first Christmas without Dad.”
Callan stiffened. “How can you still call him that?”
Sage’s eyes softened with sympathy. “You mean because of what we found out in Mom’s letters? It was all a big shock, I admit. But what does it really change? Legally Hawksley was our father. And he’s also the man who raised us.”
But what about emotionally? Callan wanted to ask. Had he ever thought of them as his daughters? Had he ever...loved them? But this wasn’t the time for those questions. Savannah was getting restless, throwing snow on the fire so they could hurry up and take the trees back to be decorated.
They were lucky that the weather had been hovering above zero the past few weeks, so the trees weren’t frozen solid. It made it easier to bring them in the house and set them up in their respective tree stands. For additional safety, Dawson used fishing line to secure the top of the twelve-footer to the exposed rafters in the living room.
Earlier Callan had brought up from the basement the boxes of lights and decorations. For the smaller tree in the foyer they would use the western-themed ornaments Sage had purchased last year, while golden lights and handmade ornaments from their childhood would go on the bigger, more traditional tree.
“Are you going to invite Court for Christmas?” Sage asked when the work was done and they were admiring the result.
Savannah had gone outside with her father to supervise stringing lights up on the Douglas fir in the front yard.
“Why would I? He’s not family.”
“Callan. You know that isn’t true.”
“He’s gone out of his way to make it clear we are in no way blood-related.”
Sage gave her a considering look. “Interesting that he did that. But that’s being very technical. Under your rules, Savannah wouldn’t be family, either.”
“Of course she is. You’re married to her father, which makes you her step-mother.”
“But we don’t share a drop of blood in common.”
Callan waved a hand in annoyance. “Stop trying to outsmart me. Maybe you’re right and we should invite Court. But I don’t want to. Does that count for anything?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be pushy.”
Savannah ran in from outside. “Come, look! The tree is working!”
Dutifully Callan joined Sage on the porch and oohed and aahed over the pretty tree. Callan couldn’t help thinking about all the years Hawksley had strung those lights. Would Court continue the tradition next year? He still hadn’t committed to buying the house from her, but it was the only thing that made sense.
“I’m hungry!” Savannah said, suddenly bored with the lights.
They all went inside to eat the chili Callan had thrown together in the crock pot that morning. When Dawson finally said it was time for them to go home, Callan was relieved. She felt like a Grinch and knew her sour mood had taken some of the fun out of the day for the others.
But it had been such a strain to pretend to be happy when she was far from it.
Before driving away, Sage brought in a box from the truck. “Mom’s diaries. I’ve read them and they were wonderful. Like a nice, long visit with Mom. But take your time with them. You don’t need to read them until you’re ready.”
Once they’d gone, Callan turned off all the lights in the house and went to Hawksley’s study. Stripped of all his papers and files, it felt like a different room. She settled on the window seat and looked out at the Douglas Fir glowing majestically in the night.
It was such a beautiful tree.
And all she wanted to do was cry.
CHAPTER NINE
On Wednesday of that week, Callan awakened with a sore throat and congested sinuses. She called Sage, who urged her to stay home for the rest of the week and get better. Callan didn’t want to stay home or rest, she preferred to keep busy. But she didn’t want to risk passing the virus on to Sage or her customers, so she took the advice.
The cool, cloudy grey day didn’t tempt Callan further than the living room couch. She spent the morning drinking tea with ginger and lemon and reading back issues of Western Horseman and other favorite publications. For lunch she made herself a package of chicken noodle soup and crackers.
As she sat at the table looking out at the western view, the sun broke out of the clouds. Suddenly the world sparkled. Convincing herself she felt a lot better, Callan changed into her work clothes and went to the horse barn. Maybe she’d take Sapphire for a little ride. As she led her black quarter horse into the barn to tack her up, she deliberately avoided looking in the direction of Zorro’s stall.
She tied Sapphire up in the prep area, then gave her a good brushing. She murmured to the horse as she groomed her. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Don’t worry, once I find us a nice new home I’ll be able to ride you more regularly.”
She placed the saddle cloth on Sapphire’s back first, then as she was lifting the saddle a wave of dizziness struck and she had to drop it back on the rack. Damn, maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. But she hated to ditch her plans now that she had Sapphire all primed for a ride.
Maybe if she just sat down for a minute, she could give that saddle a second try.
Callan sank onto the bench against the side wall and closed her eyes. Sapphire gave an impatient snort, then was quiet. Suddenly Callan heard t
he sound of male voices. They were distant but moving in this direction.
Damn, she didn’t want to see anyone, especially not Court. She went to the window on the opposite wall and glanced outside. Red, Jim, Derek, Tyler and Court were heading toward the cattle barn. She could see them all clearly and it struck her how Court stood out from the others. Strange that he’d once struck her as weak and citified.
Because he looked one-hundred percent rancher right now. Tall, strong, dark-haired and confident. The men were grinning, at ease with one another, but it was clear that the other men considered Court the boss.
He said something and the others laughed. Red clapped Court on the back.
Her father had been dead only two months—and already Court had a rapport with these men. How had he managed it so quickly?
After less than a minute, the men were out of sight.
Callan leaned back against the wall. She was suddenly cold, shivering. Probably she was coming down with a fever. Apologetically she removed Sapphire’s saddle blanket and bridle. “Sorry, girl. I’m going to have to give you a rain check.”
In the house she ran herself a bath, which helped make her toasty warm, but by then she’d developed an awful headache. She gave herself a quick towel-off before crawling into bed.
It was dark in her room when Callan awoke to the sound of pounding at the front door. Groggily, she pulled on sweat pants and a hoodie. “Coming!”
Yelling made her throat hurt so she didn’t do it again, just carefully negotiated the stairs, trying to ignore the pounding in her head and the spots flashing in her eyes. At the foyer she turned on the lights before opening the door.
Oh, great. Court. Just the person she wanted to see when she was at her worst. She put a hand to her hair and felt a tangle of knots. “Um...not a good time.”
“Your sister called. Said you were home sick but not answering your phone. She was worried and I can see why.”
“I was sleeping. And it’s just a cold.”
“You look like you’re running a fever. Probably doesn’t help letting in all this freezing air. May I come in?”
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