A Cold Creek Christmas Story

by RaeAnne Thayne

  “Poor girl,” her aunt went on. “She’s been too busy around the ranch to give Christmas much thought, and now here it is just a few days away.”

  The reminder instantly made Celeste feel small. She was fretting about a kiss while her sister had lost a husband and was raising two children by herself—albeit with plenty of help from Aunt Mary, Rafe, Hope and Celeste.

  She was so grateful for her loving, supportive family—though she experienced a pang of regret for Flynn, who had no one.

  She sat down at the table with her soup and listened to the children’s chatter while she ate each delicious spoonful. When she finished, she set her bowl aside and turned to the serious business of cookie decorating.

  “All right. Help me out, kids. What kind of cookie should I decorate first?”

  “The angels are really hard,” Olivia said.

  Well, she’d already faced down a bunch of holiday-excited children and been kissed until she couldn’t think straight. What was one more challenge today? “Bring on an angel, then.”

  Aunt Mary always had Christmas music playing in the house and the children seemed to enjoy singing along. Olivia didn’t join them, she noticed. The girl seemed a little withdrawn, and Celeste worried maybe the day had been too much for her.

  After she had decorated her third cookie, the song “Angels We Have Heard on High” came over the stereo.

  “Ooh, I love this one,” Louisa said. Her niece started singing along to the Glorias with a gusto that made Celeste smile.

  “My mom is an angel now,” Olivia said in a matter-of-fact sort of tone that made emotions clog Celeste’s throat.

  “I know, sweetheart,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Our dad is an angel, too,” Barrett informed her.

  “Mom says he’s probably riding the prettiest horses in heaven right now,” Louisa said.

  “My mom is in jail,” Joey offered. That made her just as sad for him.

  “Aren’t you lucky to have Uncle Rafe and Aunt Hope, though?”

  “Yep,” he answered.

  Barrett nodded. “And we still have our mom. And you have your dad,” he reminded Olivia.

  “Your mom and your dad are angels, aren’t they?” Louisa said to Celeste. “I asked my mom once why Barrett and me don’t have a grandma and a grandpa, and she told me.”

  The pain of losing them still hurt, but more like an old ache than the constant, raw pain she remembered.

  “They both died,” she agreed. “It’s been a long time, but I still feel them near me.”

  At some moments she felt them closer than others. She was quite certain she had heard her father’s voice loud and clear one wintry, stormy night when she was driving home from college for the holidays. As clear as if he had been sitting beside her, she’d heard him tell her to slow down. She had complied instantly and a moment later rounded a corner to find a car had spun out from the opposite lane into hers. She was able to stop in time to keep from hitting it, but if she hadn’t reduced her speed earlier, the head-on collision probably would have killed her and the other driver.

  “Do you ever see your mom and dad angels?” Olivia asked, studying Celeste intently.

  Oh, the poor, poor dear. She shook her head. “I don’t see them as they were, but whenever I see the angel decorations at Christmastime, it helps me think about them and remember they’re always alive in my heart.”

  “I really need to ask my mom something,” Olivia said, her little features distressed. “Only I don’t know how.”

  Celeste reached for the girl’s hand and squeezed it. Oh, how she recalled all those unspoken words she had wanted to tell her parents, especially her father, who had died so abruptly. With her mother, she’d had a little more time, though that didn’t ease the difficulty of losing her.

  She chose her answer carefully, trying to find the right words of comfort.

  “When you see an angel decoration you really like, perhaps you could whisper to the angel what you need to say to your mom. I believe she’ll hear you,” she said softly, hoping she was saying the right things to ease the girl’s grief and not just offering a useless panacea.

  Olivia considered that for a long moment, her brow furrowed. Finally she nodded solemnly. “That’s a good idea. I think I’ll do that.”

  She smiled and gave the girl a little hug, hoping she had averted that particular crisis. “Excellent. Now, why don’t we see how many more cookies we can decorate before your father comes in?”

  “Okay.”

  They went to work, singing along to the Christmas music for another half hour before the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it!” Joey announced eagerly. He raced for the door and a moment later returned with Flynn.

  She had known it would be him at the door, but somehow she still wasn’t prepared for the sheer masculine force of him. Suddenly she couldn’t seem to catch her breath and felt as if the vast kitchen had shrunk to the size of one of Louisa’s dollhouse rooms.

  The memory of that kiss shivered between them, and she could feel heat soak her cheeks and nerves flutter in her stomach.

  She shoved aside the reaction and forced a smile instead. “That was faster than I expected. Are you finished?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Your brother-in-law is a handy dude. With both of us working together, it didn’t take us long.”

  “Wonderful. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it, especially with everything else you have going on. Thank you.”

  He met her gaze finally, and she thought she saw an instant of heat and hunger before he blinked it away. “You’re very welcome.”

  His gaze took in the table scattered with frosting bowls, sugar sprinkles and candy nonpareils. “This looks fun,” he said, though his tone implied exactly the opposite.

  “Oh, it is, Daddy,” Olivia declared. “Look at all the cookies I decorated! About a hundred angels!”

  More like fifteen or sixteen, but Celeste supposed it had felt like much more than that to a seven-year-old girl.

  She handed over one of the paper plates they had been using to set the decorated cookies on when they were finished. “Here, fill this with several cookies so you and your dad can take some home to enjoy.”

  “They’re for the old people, though, aren’t they?”

  “I think it would be just fine for you to take five or six. We’ll have plenty. Don’t worry,” she answered, declining again to give a lecture on politically correct terminology.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Go ahead. Pick some of your favorites.”

  Olivia pondered her options and finally selected five cookies—all blonde angels, Celeste noted—and laid them on the paper plate while Celeste found some aluminum foil to cover them.

  “Here you go,” she said, holding them out to Flynn.

  “Thanks,” he murmured and took the plate from her. Their hands brushed and she gave an involuntary shiver that she seriously hoped he hadn’t noticed.

  His gaze met hers for just an instant, then slid away again, but not before she saw a glittery, hungry look there that made her feel breathless all over again.

  “Find your coat,” he told his daughter.

  “Can we stay a little bit longer?” Olivia begged. “Louisa and Barrett and Joey said they’re going to have sleigh rides later. I’ve never been on a sleigh ride.”

  “We have a lot to do today, bug. We’ve already hung around here longer than we probably should have.”

  If he and his daughter had left earlier, the kiss never would have happened. Judging by the edgy tension that seethed between them now—and despite the flash of hunger she thought she had glimpsed—Celeste had a feeling that was what he would have preferred.

  “Please, Daddy. I would love it.”


  As he gazed at his daughter a helpless look came into his eyes. She remembered him saying he hated refusing Olivia anything after what she had been through.

  “How long do these sleigh rides take?” he asked Celeste.

  “Less than an hour, probably.”

  “They’re super fun at night,” her niece suggested helpfully. “You could go home and do your work and then come back later. Then you can see all the lights and stuff. There’s even caroling.”

  “Ooh. Caroling!” Olivia looked delighted at the idea, while her father looked vaguely horrified.

  “I must agree. It is really fun,” Celeste said.

  He sighed. “Would that work for you, Liv? We can go home and try to finish another room at the house, and then come back later.”

  “Will you all be there?” she asked her new friends.

  “Sure! We love to take the sleigh rides.”

  Olivia looked enchanted by the idea.

  “Our last sleigh ride for regular visitors of The Christmas Ranch is back at the St. Nicholas Lodge about 8:00 p.m. Why don’t you meet us at the lodge a little before that, and we can take one that’s not as crowded?”

  “Oh, yay! I can’t wait!” Olivia exclaimed. She spontaneously hugged Celeste, and she looked so adorably sweet with her eyes bright and pink frosting on her cheek that Celeste couldn’t help it, she kissed the top of the girl’s head.

  When she lifted her head, she found Flynn gazing at her with a strange look on his features that he quickly wiped away.

  “I guess we’ll see you all later tonight, then,” he said.

  He didn’t sound nearly as thrilled as his daughter about the idea.

  Chapter Eleven

  All afternoon Celeste did her best not to dwell on that stunning kiss.

  Knowing she would see him again that evening didn’t help. The whole busy December day seemed filled with sparkly anticipation, even though she tried over and over again to tell herself she was being ridiculous.

  It didn’t help matters that her sisters both attempted to back out of the sleigh ride and send her alone with the children. She couldn’t blame them, since it had been completely her idea, but she still wanted them there. Though she knew the children would provide enough of a buffer, she didn’t want to be alone with Flynn.

  Finally she had threatened Hope that if she didn’t go on the sleigh ride with them, Hope would have to direct the show Tuesday night by herself.

  As she expected, Rafe had obviously told Hope what he had almost walked in on earlier in the barn. Her sisters hadn’t come out and said anything specific about it, but after the third or fourth speculative look from Hope—and the same from Faith—she knew the word was out in the Nichols family.

  If not for her beloved niece and nephews, she sincerely would have given some thought to wishing she had been an only child.

  “You owe me this after dragging me into the whole Christmas show thing,” Celeste said fiercely to Hope at dinner, when her sister once more tried to wriggle out of the sleigh ride.

  Hope didn’t necessarily look convinced, but she obviously could see that Celeste meant what she said. “Oh, all right,” she muttered. “If I’m going out in the cold that means you have to come, too, Fae.”

  Faith groaned. “After an afternoon of tackling the stores on the busiest shopping day of the year, I just want to put my feet up and watch something brainless on TV.”

  Barrett added his voice. “You have to come, Mom. It won’t be as fun without you. You’ve got the best caroling voice.”

  “Yeah, and you’re the only one who knows all the words,” Louisa added.

  Faith gave her children an exasperated look but finally capitulated. “Fine. I guess somebody has to help you all carry a tune.”

  After dinner they all bundled up in their warmest clothing and traipsed down to the St. Nicholas Lodge. Even Rafe came along, which she supposed she was grateful for, though he kept shooting her curious little looks all evening.

  They arrived at the lodge just as Flynn and Olivia walked in from the parking lot. Olivia wore her pink-and-purple coat with a white beanie and scarf. She looked adorable, especially when she lit up at the sight of them.

  “Hi, everybody! Hi!” she said. “We’re here. Dad didn’t want to come, but I told him we promised, so here we are.”

  Celeste had to laugh at that, especially when Flynn’s color rose. “It’s good to see you both,” she said.

  It wasn’t a lie. The December night suddenly seemed magical and bright, filled with stars and snow and the wonder of the season.

  Olivia skipped over to her, hardly even limping in her excitement for the evening. “Guess what, Celeste?”

  “What, sweetheart?”

  “Today when we were cleaning we found boxes and boxes and boxes of yarn and scrapbook paper and craft supplies. Would you like to have them for your story times at the library? Dad said he thought you might.”

  “Seriously?” She stared, overwhelmed and touched that he would think of it.

  “You don’t have to take them,” he said quickly. “I just didn’t want to send everything to Goodwill if you could find a use for it.”

  “Are you kidding?” she exclaimed. “Absolutely! I can definitely use craft supplies. Thank you so much!”

  “Good, because they’re all in the back of the SUV. I took a chance that you would want them and figured if you didn’t, I could drop them in the box at the thrift store in town after we were done here.”

  “Smart.” She considered their options. “My car is still here in the parking lot from this morning. I can just pull next to you, and we can transfer them from your SUV to mine.”

  “Do you want to do it now or after the sleigh ride?”

  “Go ahead and do it now while you’re thinking about it,” Hope suggested. Celeste narrowed her gaze at her sister, wondering if this was some sneaky way to get the two of them alone together, but Hope merely gave her a bland look in response.

  “Sure,” she said finally. “That way we won’t forget later.”

  They walked out into the cold air, and she tried not to think about the last time they had been together—the strength of his muscles beneath her hands, the delicious taste of him, all those shivery feelings he evoked.

  “I’m parked over there,” he said, pointing to his vehicle.

  “I parked at the back of the lot this morning to leave room for paying guests. Just give me a minute to move my car next to yours.”

  “I could just carry the boxes over to where you are.”

  “It will only take me a minute to move.” She took off before he could argue further and hurried to her very cold vehicle, which had a thin layer of soft snow that needed to be brushed away before she could see out the windshield. Once that was done, she started it and drove the few rows to an open spot next to his vehicle, then popped open the hatch of her small SUV.

  By the time she opened her door and walked around to the back, he was already transferring boxes and she could see at least half dozen more in the back of his vehicle.

  She stared at the unexpected bounty. “This is amazing! Are you sure Olivia wouldn’t like to keep some of this stuff?”

  He shook his head. “She went through and picked out a few pairs of decorative scissors and some paper she really liked, but the rest of it was destined for either Goodwill or the landfill.”

  “Thank you. It was really kind of you to think of the library.”

  “Consider it a legacy from Charlotte to the library.”

  “I’ll do that. Thank you.”

  He carried the last of the boxes and shoved it into her cargo area, then closed the hatch.

  “There you go.”

  “Thanks again.”

  She expected him to head directly back
to the lodge. Instead, he leaned against her vehicle and gave her a solemn look. The parking lot was mostly empty except for a family a few rows away loading into a minivan, probably after seeing Santa Claus inside.

  “Do I owe you an apology?” he asked.

  She fidgeted, shoving her mittened hands into her pockets. “An apology for what?”

  He sighed. “We both know I shouldn’t have kissed you, Celeste. It was a mistake. I didn’t want to leave you with the...wrong impression.”

  Oh, this was humiliating. Was she so pathetic that he thought because she had told him she’d once had a crush on him, she now thought they were dating or something, because of one stupid kiss?

  Okay, one amazing, heart-pounding, knee-tingling kiss. But that was beside the point.

  “You don’t owe me anything,” she said.

  He gazed up at the stars while the jingle of the sleigh returning to the lodge and the sound of shrieking children over on the sledding hill rang out in the distance.

  “Here’s the thing. Right now, my whole attention has to be focused on helping my daughter. I’m not...looking for anything else. I can’t.”

  She leaned against the cold vehicle next to him and tried to pretend she was sophisticated and experienced, that this sort of moment happened to her all the time—a casual conversation with a man who had kissed her deeply just a few hours ago and was now explaining why he couldn’t do it again.

  “It was a kiss, Flynn. I get it. I’ve barely given it a thought since it happened.”

  He wasn’t stupid. She didn’t doubt he could tell that was a blatant lie, but he said nothing. He simply gave her a careful look, which she returned with what she hoped was a bland one of her own.

  “Good. That’s good,” he said. “I just wanted to clear the air between us. The last thing I want to do is hurt you or, I don’t know, give you the wrong idea. You’ve been nothing but kind to Olivia and to me.”

  “Do you really think I’m so fragile that I could be hurt by a single kiss?”

  * * *

  The question seemed to hang between them, bald and unadorned, like a bare Christmas tree after the holidays.