He held out the box with a wicked smile. “Would you like to open it?”
“No.” She took a step back. “My mom taught us to only open our own presents.”
He removed the top and pushed aside some tissue paper.
“Cookies.” His face puckered. “Don’t we have enough of those around here?”
“Your inner Grinch is showing, Mr. Scrooge.”
Josiah held up the box, bounced like an excited kid or an actor from a scene from Elf.
“Look. Cookies! Christmas cookies.” His smile disappeared. “Better?”
Maybe if he kissed her. She pushed the thought aside. “Much.”
Josiah looked through the box. “No card.”
“Eliza was the delivery person.”
“Who sent them?”
“She said these cookies were baked by a super special guest who is staying with her over the holidays.”
“Super special?”
“Think red suit, twinkling eyes, a white beard...”
He made a Scrooge-worthy face. “Santa Claus?”
“Not any Santa Claus.” Ellie wasn’t going to let Josiah off easy. Christmas was two and a half weeks away. She wanted him to glimpse, if not see, the beauty of the season and how wonderful the holiday could be. “The Graff’s Santa. His real name is Chris Krinkles.”
“Krinkles? You mean Kringle.”
“No, Krinkles.”
Josiah rolled his eyes. “Stage name.”
“A good one for a guy who plays Santa Claus.”
“The old guy said he had something that would help with my recovery.” Josiah raised the box to take a closer look. “I wonder if the cookies are medicinal or magical.”
Now he was talking. Half-naked guy, special cookies from Santa. This was turning into a dream-worthy holiday. “Christmas magic can work miracles. And if he’s Santa—”
“I was kidding.” Josiah set the box on the table, giving her a look at his sexy back. “Let’s see how Mr. Krinkles’ cookies taste. There are six. Enough for me to share one with you.”
“You’re so generous.”
Josiah’s gaze met hers. “I’d share if there were only one.”
Tingles erupted. “I know.”
And she did. He was a generous and kind man. Not to mention sexy and gorgeous.
He removed two cookies, handed her one, and raised his. “To Mr. Chris Krinkles. I mean, Santa Claus.”
“You’re being a good sport about this.”
“We’re talking cookies, not running through the streets of London buying the biggest turkey on Christmas morning.” Josiah tapped his cookie against hers. “Cheers.”
She took a bite. The cookie was soft and chewy, a buttery sweetness with a blend of molasses and ginger. “These are...”
“Not magical, but fantastic.” He reached into the box. “Want another?”
“Please.”
Josiah studied his cookie like he was reading the business section of a newspaper. “If Mr. Krinkles needs a job in the off-season, he could make a fortune with these.”
“Or he could give them away to spread Christmas cheer.”
“You really are an elf.”
She wiped her hands on her apron. “That’s why I love Christmas cookies so much.”
Josiah grinned and then ate a second cookie. “I’ve got two more.”
“I’ve had enough. They were given to you.” She didn’t want to eat half of his present. “Enjoy them.”
“I will.” He closed the box. “I’m saving them for later. Don’t want to eat in front of you.”
“Such good manners.”
“I’m told women like that.” He raised a brow and flashed a devilishly charming grin.
She about swooned. “What women?”
“Maybe you?”
Ellie liked his flirty tone. “Maybe.”
Josiah’s face paled. His smile disappeared. He swayed.
She grabbed hold of him. Wet, warm skin pressed against her. “Josiah?”
“I need to sit.”
Something was wrong. “Couch or bed?”
“Trick question?” He didn’t quite smile, but he tried. “Bed.”
Okay, his brain was definitely working. But she needed to put him somewhere so she could call for help.
She led him to the bedroom. He was leaning against her, but able to walk. That was a good sign. “Does anything hurt?”
“I got tired. Like someone turned off a switch.”
His speech wasn’t slurred, but his eyelids looked heavy. She needed to get in touch with Nate and have someone call Dr. Gallagher. “Maybe one of the ghosts of Christmas didn’t like you making fun of their holiday.”
“I feel like I got kicked to the curb.”
The bed was unmade. Of course it was. She was the one who did that. He’d slept on the left side, but the right was closer. She helped him onto the mattress and then covered him with a blanket.
Josiah grabbed her hand. “Stay.”
“I will.” She kissed his forehead. He didn’t feel warm. “I’m going to make a call. I’ll be right back.”
In the sitting area, she dialed “0” and told Meg to get in touch with Nate and Dr. Gallagher ASAP.
A shiver swept through Ellie. She stared at the doorway to the bedroom, hugging herself. Seeing Josiah sick shattered her defenses.
Stay.
I will.
There was nowhere else she wanted to be.
Ellie hadn’t spent much time with Josiah Whittaker, but she was falling for him. Falling hard.
So not good.
He was only here until the end of the month, and then he would go home, back to the city, his work and his billionaire lifestyle, a world that this country girl, who considered Wranglers a designer label, knew nothing about.
She didn’t need a college degree to know how this flirtation would end...
An hour and a half later in Dr. Gallagher’s office, Josiah sat on the examining table. He was no longer dizzy like he’d been in his room. His vitals had been taken and blood drawn. At least he hadn’t been told to put on one of those backless gowns. He hated those things—the human equivalent of an animal’s cone of shame.
Dr. Gallagher stood next to him, clipboard in hand. “You said you’ve been taking it easy?”
“Yeah.” Ellie had looked so worried earlier, her forehead wrinkled, her nose scrunched, and her gaze intent. Yet her smile didn’t falter. Josiah liked knowing she cared that he wasn’t feeling well.
Liked her.
Time to do something about that?
He leaned back on his hands. “I’ve only been here a week. I haven’t done much.”
“Let’s see.” Dr. Gallagher scanned his notes. “Helping Ellie after her meeting, visiting the Graff Hotel, long walks each day, watching football, PT exercises, roping with Dustin, and writing an app.”
“Nate limits me to an hour a day on the computer.”
Dr. Gallagher wrote something and then turned his clipboard to show Josiah. “If this is your idea of not doing much, I’d hate to see what your idea of doing a lot looks like.”
The list was longer than Josiah expected. “I’ve been feeling better.”
“You’re at the Bar V5 to recover and rest.”
“I am. Have been.” He sounded defensive. He would try again. “I take a nap or two every day.”
“That’s not enough.” Dr. Gallagher stepped closer. “You’re overdoing it, and your body is saying no more. That’s why you collapsed.”
“I wouldn’t say collapsed. More like needed help standing.”
Dr. Gallagher wrote more notes.
“Okay, maybe I did a little too much,” Josiah added. “I’ll slow down.”
“Slow down, and do less.” Dr. Gallagher set his clipboard on the counter. “No more computer time or going into town. Your activities will be limited for the next week.”
Josiah’s nerve endings stiffened. He clutched the edge of the table. Ellie’s meeting was
tomorrow. “That’s—”
“Doctor’s orders.”
His fingers dug into the vinyl padding. “I’ll be careful, make sure I don’t overdo it.”
“Overdoing appears to be a habit of yours. The last time you ended up back in the hospital. Is that what you want to happen again?”
Josiah swore under his breath.
Dr. Gallagher’s hard gaze locked with Josiah’s. “I may be a small town doctor, not a start-up tech wizard who thinks he’s invincible, but I’ve dealt with plenty of hardheaded ranchers and cowboys. I know how to play hardball. And I will.”
Josiah’s jaw tensed. He wanted to fight for his freedom and let lose a tirade, except he was the one at fault. Pretending otherwise wouldn’t help him.
He’d screwed up.
If he weren’t careful, he could lose his company. He needed to focus. Otherwise January could find him without Whit Tech and his health. “No need to get in my face, Doc. I hear you. I’ll follow your instructions.”
“Slowing down isn’t easy when you’re used to going nonstop. I want you to keep an activity journal.”
That sounded touchy-feely. “Journal?”
“A notebook. Write down what you do and for how long. Pay attention to what’s there. Decide when you need to slow down, cut back, or simply stop. That’s a skill you’ll need when you go home.”
Sounded like a pain in the ass, but maybe Ellie could help him track things. Thinking about her made him smile. “I can do that.”
Dr. Gallagher opened a drawer and handed Josiah a small spiral notebook with a black cover. “This has more pages than you’ll need while you’re here, but keep this up when you’re back in California.”
Josiah flipped through the notebook. “How do I know if I’m doing too much?”
“That’s what this notebook will help you determine. Start with one activity each day and go from there.”
He thought that was what he’d been doing. Guess this would be a reboot, Forced Vacation 2.0. “Got it.”
Dr. Gallagher rested against the counter. “Your body needs rest to heal. I’ll consult with Dr. Roscoe and have your physical therapist revise your exercises for the next week. Thursday or Friday, I’ll drive out to the ranch to check up on you.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll come here.”
“Not up for debate. This isn’t Silicon Valley. We do things differently in Marietta. Call if you feel lightheaded or weak again. No matter the time, day or night.” Dr. Gallagher stood. “Now get back to the ranch, relax, and stay there. If I hear you’ve been in Marietta—”
Josiah raised his hands, palms facing the doctor. “You won’t. My health is the priority.”
And he knew the person who could help him feel better—Ellie.
Thursday, Ellie rolled her supply cart to Josiah’s room. He’d looked tired yesterday. She hoped he slept in today. It was nearly eleven. If he were still asleep, she would clean the sitting area and come back later. She would do whatever she could to help him feel better, even if being with him tied up her emotions like a roped calf.
She knocked lightly at his door. “It’s Ellie.”
No answer.
She used her master key and placed a stopper to keep the door ajar so she could reach her cart easier. Inside, she surveyed the room.
A jigsaw puzzle sat on the table near the wet bar. Several books and a coffee mug were on the coffee table. A fleece blanket lay haphazardly across the couch. She would tidy up the sitting area first.
Ellie folded the blanket. The fuzzy fleece felt soft against her fingertips. She’d purchased her parents each a throw for this Christmas.
That reminded her. She needed to pick up more stocking stuffers for everyone at the Bar V5. The staff didn’t usually buy guests individual presents, but she wanted to get Josiah a gift. But what would she buy for a man who could afford anything?
“Hey.” Josiah walked out of the bedroom.
“Good morning.” His color was better, his cheeks a little pink. That was a good sign. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“You didn’t.”
He wore flannel pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt. His feet were bare. His hair was uncombed. Seeing him look so casual reminded her of when he was a normal teenager. Well, a nerdy one. Now if he’d lose his shirt...
Oops. Probably not what she should be thinking about.
“I heard your bell.” He came closer. “The jingling’s growing on me.”
Ellie could say the same thing about him.
But she was trying to be good and focus on his recovery, not her falling for him. She hugged the blanket against her stomach.
“Better watch out,” she joked. “This could be the first sign you’re beginning to like Christmas.”
“A bell is a long way from wanting to celebrate with the Whos from Whoville.”
“It’s a start.” Ellie placed the blanket on the back of the sofa, trying not to imagine cuddling with Josiah underneath the fleece. Though daydreaming was the safest option where he was concerned. “How’d you sleep?”
“I ate Mr. Krinkles’ cookies last night, and slept like a baby. Woke up feeling better than I have in a long time. Guess I needed more rest like Dr. Gallagher said.”
A weight on her shoulders lifted. She’d been worried about him. “Rest and the cookies. Maybe they are magic.”
A grin spread, taking a decade off his face.
Her breath caught. So swoon-worthy.
“Maybe.” His playful tone was another positive sign he was on the road to recovery. “But proving they are magic will be difficult, even for someone who loves Christmas like you.”
His words were gift-wrapped in tenderness. She got chills, the good kind that shot to her fingertips and toes. A silly smile must be on her face. “Still possible.”
Josiah’s gaze met hers. His hazel eyes looked more gold today. The color reminded her of garland and Christmas tree stars.
She expected him to look away, but his gaze remained on hers, lingering, practically caressing.
“Anything is possible,” he said.
This might be December, but she pictured Fourth of July fireworks exploding overhead. “Your attitude’s softening toward Christmas.”
“You’re rubbing off on me. Christmas can’t be all bad, knowing how much the holiday means to you.”
Her heart bumped. What he said made her feel squishy, like chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven.
“But don’t get any crazy Christmas ideas in that pretty head of yours,” he added. “I’m not wearing the Santa Joe hat.”
Laughing, she straightened the books on the coffee table. “I’m not sure I’d wear it.”
“Shhh.” He put his finger against his lip. “Better not let Santa hear or you’ll only get socks and underwear for Christmas.”
Josiah’s touch, his words...
Ellie wanted to drag him under the mistletoe and kiss him until she couldn’t breathe. Her lips tingled with anticipation. She didn’t dare, did she?
An answer didn’t come. She drew back. “I’ll be more careful.”
She needed to watch herself around him. He pushed all her buttons and she didn’t mind.
“How did the Buck’s Place meeting go?” he asked.
“Well, we held a short study/tutoring session, played board games, and then french fries and milkshakes showed up in honor of the kids’ first place at the stroll.” She eyed him suspiciously. “The delivery person didn’t know who placed the order.”
“Don’t look at me.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’m not allowed to leave the ranch.”
“The Bar V5 has a landline, and Meg, who handles guest services. That’s all you’d need.”
“Maybe Santa Claus did it. Or, I know, Chris Krinkles.”
Ellie knew it was Josiah. He had a huge heart, and they’d talked about doing something special for the kids. “Whoever ordered the food made those kids’ day...and mine.”
“Yours?”
“I love french fries and milkshakes.” She didn’t think he would fess up, but she wanted to say the words. “Thank you.”
She smiled at him.
He smiled back with a satisfied grin. “So how many Buck’s Place meetings are left in December?”
“Two.” She carried the dirty mug and a spoon to the wet bar. “One on the sixteenth and another on the twenty-third.”
“I hope I can make those.”
“Skip the sixteenth and rest, but the twenty-third is our big party with food, games, and gifts. It’s so much fun.”
“A Christmas party?”
“Of course.” She rinsed the cup in the wet bar’s sink. “I’m making everyone, including Leslie and Willa, a candy bouquet. I found the cutest Christmas mugs for only a dollar in Bozeman. I’m finished with half of them.”
He moved closer. “I’m happy to help.”
“You’re into crafting?”
His devilishly charming grin knocked the wind out of her. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”
She dropped the mug. It clattered against the sink. Her hands trembled. He’d called her sweetheart. What was going on?
“It’s a date then,” he said.
A date. She swallowed.
Don’t panic. Ellie checked the mug. Not broken. “Crafting wouldn’t be good for you. Too much detail work. You need to rest.”
“Then let’s figure out something we both can do.”
Ellie didn’t want to say no, but the thought of saying yes scared her. He was a guest; she was a housekeeper. He was a billionaire; she drove a fifteen-year-old car.
Uh-oh. Being afraid was no way to live. She’d learned that from Buck, and sometimes forgot. Time to remember?
She raised her chin. “Sounds good. What did you have in mind?”
Chapter Twelve
On Saturday evening, Josiah searched a stall in the old, red barn, looking for a missing white cat named Snowball. He never knew what to expect when he was with Ellie, and tonight’s “date” was no different. “Snowball’s not in here.”
Feeding the barn cats before watching a DVD and eating popcorn had turned into a cat search party when one didn’t show up to eat dinner. He didn’t mind. Being with Ellie brightened his day—or night, in this case.
A Christmas Homecoming (Bar V5 Ranch) Page 13