To Santa With Love

by Janet Dailey

  A whispering breeze stirred her hair and she brushed a hand across her cheek as if pushing away an imaginary lock of hair, taking a few seconds to find her composure. For some unknown reason, she felt she needed to explain why she’d been with Robbie.

  “I was on my way to the garage to see if my car had been repaired. I stopped in the park here for a while and Robbie came over,” she offered.

  “Your car isn’t fixed yet?” Choya had reached her side, or as close as he was going to come, stopping a good five feet from her to wait for the slower approach of his son.

  “I’m hoping it is.” Jacquie smiled, trying to deny the tingling sensation of unease. “But the mechanic warned me that getting the right parts was going to be a problem. Unfortunately, my car is an import and an economy model—”

  “So I noticed.” The expression on his face, that part that wasn’t concealed by dark sunglasses, didn’t register much interest in her explanation. As soon as she had finished speaking, the strong chin tilted downward toward the boy pausing in front of him, closer to Jacquie than to his father.

  “Are you ready to leave, son? Gramps will probably be waiting dinner.” It was hardly a question. The man had worded it as such, but it was clear he expected no other answer except agreement.

  “Yes, sir.” Robbie voiced the anticipated agreement, but without enthusiasm. The light brown eyes swept upward to Jacquie’s face. He was clearly reluctant to leave her.

  “Good-bye again, Robbie.” She intended the words to sound cheerful, but they were oddly taut.

  “Ah—not just yet.” Choya Barnett’s voice was brisk to the point of sharpness, cutting away the vague sense of intimacy that Robbie’s yearning gaze had enveloped her in. Her gaze swung to his father’s carved features, imposingly rugged and powerful. “The garage is on the way to my ranch. Catch a ride with us.”

  She was taken aback. The distance to the garage was a little over two blocks. Choya’s command—it certainly wasn’t an invitation—didn’t seem to make much sense until she noticed the beaming smile of gratitude and adoration that Robbie gave his father.

  The man’s heart wasn’t totally made of stone, she decided. Not if he was willing to put up with her obviously unwelcome company for two whole blocks in order to please his son. And she had to admit, if reluctantly, that everyone in town seemed to know him and like him.

  A speculating light entered her eyes. “That’s thoughtful of you. Thanks.” She wondered why that sardonic line had tilted the firm male mouth. He might be a friend to all, but she couldn’t get him to smile at her, not even once.

  “My jeep is parked at the curb,” he said.

  Falling into step with Robbie, Jacquie followed the wide shoulders of Choya Barnett to the street, his long strides leading the way.

  There was a suggestion of impatience in his pace, as if he’d had second thoughts about giving in. Well, too bad. He had offered and she certainly hadn’t asked for a lift, because she didn’t need one.

  But here you are, about to get in. Jacquie dismissed the little voice as Choya paused beside the passenger side of the jeep, glancing inside.

  He turned to watch their progress through the concealing lenses of his sunglasses. “The back is filled with stuff and it’s dusty,” he stated crisply. “The two of you should be able to share the front seat well enough. It’s not a very long trip.”

  “I’m sure we can,” Jacquie agreed, glancing down at the boy hesitating beside her.

  “Hand me your crutches, Robbie.” Choya reached out for the first crutch, shifting it to his other hand while he waited for Robbie to balance himself against the jeep before giving up the second. With the crutches stowed in back, Choya picked up his son, carefully lifting him onto the front seat. As Jacquie moved to join Robbie, a strong hand took her elbow and gave her a boost onto the shared seat.

  Her thanks for his help was spoken into empty air and cut off by the slammed door.

  “It doesn’t close good unless you slam it,” Robbie explained. Jacquie wasn’t so sure of that, watching Choya walk around the front bumper without looking at either of them. She pulled out the seat belt on her side and put it around herself and the boy.

  With an economy of movement, Choya opened the driver’s side door and swung himself behind the wheel, long legs smoothly fitting in the confined area. He turned the key in the ignition and they were driving away.

  His face seemed even more masculine in profile. He looked straight ahead, concentrating on his driving. Feeling ignored, Jacquie turned her attention to the child nestled against her shoulder. His expression was one of complete contentment.

  “You never did tell me how you broke your leg, Robbie,” she said as the increasing speed of the jeep tangled her cornsilk hair around her face. She couldn’t see the window button, if there was one. She felt around for something to roll up the window and gave up. It seemed more important to hold on to Robbie.

  “I got bucked off a bull.” His mouth twisted into a reluctant grimace, followed by a self-conscious glance at his father.

  “A bull?” Jacquie repeated in disbelief.

  “I’m going to ride in the rodeo when I grow up,” he informed her importantly. “Gramps said you should start learning when you’re young.”

  A frown furrowed her forehead as she studied the blond head tucked under her own. “You don’t mean you actually tried to ride a full-grown bull?”

  “Robbie.” The male voice was low and carried a vague warning in its tone, although Choya’s attention didn’t leave the road.

  There was an instant of silence. Then small shoulders moved in an eloquent shrug. “Well, it was really a bull calf,” Robbie admitted. “I’m not big enough to ride a real bull yet.”

  “I should hope not!” Jacquie laughed. Then she glanced curiously at the driver. “Do you ride in the rodeo?” she asked Choya.

  “No,” he replied with no further elaboration. He didn’t seem to want to make small talk.

  “I see,” she responded, refusing to give up. “I thought maybe Robbie was copying you—like father, like son.”

  “It was entirely his idea.” This time the strong jaw turned, tilting downward toward the boy. “Wasn’t it, Robbie?”

  “Yes, sir,” Robbie murmured guiltily. “And I won’t try it again unless you or Gramps are there.”

  That revealing statement completed the sketchy description of the accident for Jacquie. She’d wondered right away why Choya Barnett had been so determined not to allow the boy to brag about his injury. Robbie was too young to realize the danger in his obviously unsupervised attempt to ride a calf. The broken leg hadn’t seemed to instill any sense of caution either, she decided thoughtfully.

  The jeep was slowed and turned into the driveway of the service station where the car had been left. The mechanic was standing in the open arch of the overhead garage doors. He walked forward at the jeep’s approach.

  “Hey, Choya. Miss Grey, I’m really sorry,” he said before Jacquie could slip from the passenger seat, “but I wasn’t able to get those parts I needed from Tucson. I can’t have your car repaired now—but I might could sometime before Monday afternoon. Can’t promise that for sure, though.”

  “Oh, no!” Even though he’d warned her of the likely outcome, her grumbling protest came automatically in a sigh.

  “I’m sorry,” the mechanic repeated with a philosophical smile.

  “I understand. It’s not your fault.” She frowned not at him but out at the highway where she noticed a motel in the near distance. “I’ll just have to find somewhere to spend the night, that’s all.”

  “There are a couple of nice places right in Tombstone. That motel down the road still has a vacancy sign,” the man behind the wheel suggested.

  It didn’t really matter where she ended up, Jacquie decided. “That’ll do, then. Thanks for the lift, Mr. Barnett,” she said as she stepped out of the jeep.

  “Jacquie—” Robbie began eagerly.

  But his father interru
pted whatever it was his son was going to say. “If you want to get your things from your car, I’ll take you on to the motel.”

  The offer surprised her, more so than the lift to the garage. Her eyebrows raised just a fraction before she nodded a yes.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  Her car was parked inside the garage’s service bay, well within view of the jeep outside. As she gathered her overnight bag and cosmetic case from the rear of her car, Jacquie glimpsed the somewhat intense discussion going on between father and son. Judging by the faintly sulky expression on Robbie’s face when she returned, the conclusion hadn’t been in his favor.

  “Do you have everything you need?” Choya inquired, but his tone was indifferent.

  “Yes, thank you.” Jacquie nodded, feeling somehow that she shouldn’t have accepted his offer.

  The man was a definite puzzle, offering her two rides when he so obviously wanted to be rid of her. There was little doubt that she’d been the subject under discussion. Why, she didn’t know.

  If Choya Barnett wanted to separate her from his son, then why was he prolonging the time she spent with them? Or had the offer been a means of interrupting Robbie before he said something his father wouldn’t approve of? That seemed likely.

  Sliding onto the seat with Robbie, Jacquie balanced her bags on her lap, taking care they didn’t bump the cast on his leg as Choya Barnett shifted the jeep into forward gear. A covert sideways glance studied the carved profile, the lean angular jaw and the firm mouth. He was good at keeping his emotions, if he had any, out of his expression.

  Jacquie smiled wryly to herself. Face it. You’re fascinated with the man. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met and you’d like to know what makes him tick. The very fact that he wasn’t overwhelmed by her looks made him all the more intriguing. It would be less than honest not to admit she found him something of a challenge.

  When Choya stopped the jeep in front of the motel, Jacquie fully expected him to let her out and leave immediately. Before she could thank him again, he was switching off the engine and swinging his long legs out to walk around to her side. Her eyes widened, watching him. He glanced at her, undoubtedly guessing that she was surprised.

  Nothing in his face told her anything. The impassive features made it impossible for her to determine whether he was doing it out of politeness or a desire to make sure he was definitely rid of her.

  He took the overnight bag from her. “I’ll carry this in for you,” he stated in a tone that didn’t allow any argument. “Robbie, move over a bit.”

  Jacquie straightened away from the boy’s warm little body and gave Choya the bag, easing her feet to the ground to stand beside him. Curiosity overpowered her as she stared into the blankness of his sunglasses.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Doing what?” His head drew back slightly, arrogance in the set of his jaw. He seemed surprised himself, but only because his action had been questioned. “I’m merely trying to be hospitable to a stranger who’s found herself stranded in our town.”

  “Really?” The single word was edged with doubt.

  “What other reason would I have?” He stepped to the side, indicating the tinted-glass walls of the motel’s front office with a nod and gesturing for her to precede him.

  “I’m not sure,” she murmured as she started toward the door.

  He ignored that. “Robbie, stay here where Mrs. Chase can see you,” he said to his son. “You can listen to the radio if you want. I’ll be right back.”

  Inside the motel office, Choya introduced her to the owner. Mrs. Chase was a motherly woman and very friendly, who greeted Choya with genuine warmth. It was obvious that they’d known each other forever—she seemed to be more to him than another member of his unofficial fan club, Jacquie thought. And the same was true for Robbie. Mrs. Chase waved through the glass at the little boy in the jeep, peering at him through a wreath of faded artificial greenery trimmed with red lights. Robbie beeped the horn once in reply and grinned at her.

  “Can’t he come in and have a lollipop?” she asked his father.

  “If you’re not too busy, it’s all right with me,” Choya replied.

  “Of course I’m not,” she said indignantly. “Go tell him to get in here and keep me company.”

  “In a minute.” His father explained the circumstances leading to Jacquie’s need for a room, but omitted the fact that he’d been involved in the accident. The woman showed no surprise whatever that Choya Barnett had assigned himself the task of finding Jacquie accommodation for the weekend.

  While he was outside again helping his son from the jeep, she got through the obligatory business of showing her ID and paying for the room with her debit card, silently thanking her father for that. Mrs. Chase asked the usual questions and Jacquie answered politely, not really minding the older woman’s curiosity about her. The debit card payment went through and she accepted the keycard to her motel room. She turned to watch Robbie scoot by his father, who held the door for him, and then past her.

  Having already been snubbed once for asking Choya the reason for his seeming solicitude, Jacquie didn’t risk it again as she walked through the open door in the opposite direction.

  “Be right there,” she heard him call after her. She heard the front office door close and open once more, but didn’t turn around until she realized the next sounds—thunks and scuffles—were made by Robbie. She looked over her shoulder to see him clamber into the jeep again, a lollipop in his mouth.

  Apparently Choya and Mrs. Chase had a few things to talk about. She kept on walking to the open staircase at the end, sitting down about halfway up it, letting her mind wander as she waited for him, not wanting to enter her room just yet. The staircase was sheltered and warmer than the breezeway.

  Mrs. Chase peered through the wreath again, first to check on Robbie, and then, craning her neck, looking in Jacquie’s direction.

  “No need to fill me in. I already heard the whole story about how you and that young lady ran into each other. Brad’s mother is quite the chatterbox,” she laughed, turning to Choya.

  “Strictly speaking, the young lady ran into me,” he pointed out.

  “Oh, a few dents and dings won’t show on that old jeep of yours. Weren’t you planning to buy a new car anyway? High time you did.”

  “If you say so.” Choya waved to his son when he heard him beep. “And thank you for not asking that question in front of Robbie. You two always gang up on me.”

  “Do we?” Mrs. Chase asked innocently.

  “Lulu, you know damn well you do.” There was a smile on Choya’s face. “But I don’t mind. And you’re right about the jeep not looking any worse than it usually does. Her car was damn near totaled. She was all right, though, once she got her breath back.”

  “I’m glad no one was hurt. Jacquie Grey seems like a lovely girl.”

  Choya inclined his head in agreement with that. He kept his gaze on Mrs. Chase, as though he were anticipating her next words.

  “So, have you had a chance to talk to her? Not about the accident—I mean personal conversation.” She emphasized the next-to-last word with a smile.

  He blinked. “Nope.”

  Mrs. Chase flipped through some paperwork as if she hadn’t even heard his response. “You should. She’s smart too—a university student.”

  “Did she tell you that?”

  “I saw her college ID next to her driver’s license when she signed in. I used to have a friend on the street where she lives in Dallas, though Louise moved away years ago. But I remembered the name of the street. It’s a very pleasant neighborhood. I’m sure she comes from a nice family.”

  “Are you matchmaking, Lulu?”

  Mrs. Chase slid the papers she’d been pretending to peruse into a folder and put it into a drawer. “Who, me? She just seems so sweet. I also heard that Robbie’s taken quite a shine to her.”

  “The town grapevine never quits, does it?” Choya thrust h
is hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Yes, he has. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

  “Well, I’m not surprised that he likes her,” the older woman said reassuringly. “He’s a very affectionate kid.”

  “True enough.”

  Mrs. Chase studied his closed expression for a moment. “Think of it as a point in her favor, Choya.”

  “In a way I guess it is,” he admitted. “But she’s only passing through. That’s what she told Robbie.”

  “Hmm.” Mrs. Chase shrugged delicately. “The way she looks at you makes me think you could persuade her to stay if you wanted to. At least for a little while,” she amended.

  “You’re wrong about that. She doesn’t much like me.” He avoided her inquiring gaze. He’d known Lulu Chase all his life, but he wasn’t going to share every detail of his encounter with Jacqueline Grey.

  “She’s still shook up from that accident. Give her a chance to calm down and rest.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he pointed out. “And after that she’ll most likely be on her way. It’ll be good-bye and good luck.”

  “You can do better than that,” the older woman chided him.

  “I don’t want to.”

  Mrs. Chase put her hands on her hips and fixed him with a stern look. “Are you really going to pass up a golden opportunity like this? You two ran into each other for a reason. The universe is sending you a sign.”

  He grinned at her. “And an insurance adjuster.”

  “Be serious. You certainly don’t seem interested in anyone from around here. Choya, take it from me—you’ve been alone too long.”

  He scowled, looking at his faint reflection in the window glass and not at his interrogator. Then he sighed and said in a low voice, “Maybe so. I’ve been busy. What with taking care of the ranch and Robbie, and my dad getting on in years, I have my hands full.”

  “He’s such a good boy,” Mrs. Chase said thoughtfully. “You and Sam have done a fine job raising him. But it would be nice if—”