The Christmas Room

by Catherine Anderson

  Cam knew firsthand that most of the bars were similar to the Cowboy Tree, low-key, friendly, and suitable for family dining. “How has that worked out?”

  “Well, the overall picture is pretty dismal, but at least I’m no longer a virgin.”

  Cam arched his eyebrows. “And how did that happen?” He winced. “I mean the circumstances, not the nuts and bolts.”

  “I met a nice guy, arranged to meet him in Missoula, where I can get lost in a crowd, and went to bed with him.” She shrugged. “Nothing spectacular. But after he left my motel room, I went to the lounge and had a drink to celebrate my coming-of-age. I know it sounds sleazy. I didn’t care if I ever saw him again. He was my means to an end.”

  Cam thought she was far too lovely and special to waste herself on some guy who meant nothing to her. On the other hand, he’d been intimate with people who didn’t really matter to him, so maybe his opinion was sexist.

  She scrunched up her nose. “I’ve dated only a few guys since then. Nobody memorable. Maybe an HEA isn’t in the stars for me.” She laid a crumpled napkin on her plate. “My opportunities to spend a night away from home are at a minimum.” Another sigh conveyed to him her sense of frustration. “I never pictured my life like this. Dad let me attend college in Missoula, but he refused to let me live on campus. He said he wasn’t about to let some ‘liberal pip-squeak’ seduce me. In fair weather, I drove back and forth. If I wasn’t home by six, he was wearing a path on his slate floor, worried sick. In bad weather, he drove me to campus and picked me up when I finished my last class. I felt like an overlarge kindergartner.”

  Cam appreciated her honesty. He hadn’t been held back by an overprotective parent, but he had been hemmed in by familial obligations. He wondered if she regretted not leaving the ranch over her father’s drinking. Conacher had been in the wrong, and she’d missed her opportunity to escape by giving him a second chance. Cam knew he couldn’t learn the answer to that question over one order of wings, and there would never be a next time. She was pretty. She was interesting. But with her father as part of the equation, she was also dangerous.

  “I’m thirty-five,” he told her. “A little too old for you.”

  She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m an extremely mature twenty-six, going on twenty-seven. The age difference doesn’t seem that important to me. This will sound bold—it seems to be my day for it. But, please, I’d like to get to know you better.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Damn, it’s already four thirty. I’ve got livestock to care for, and then I have to fix dinner.”

  “Well, I can see I’ve scared you off. Is it my age, or do you just feel that the situation is too complicated because of my father?”

  Cam hated being put on the spot, but she was a nice young woman and deserved an honest answer. “I’m taking a huge risk just by sitting here with you.”

  “Yes, you probably are,” she conceded.

  “If someone in here told your father that we were seen together, I could become his next target. I’ve heard the stories. He goes after any man who messes with you. Gets them fired from their jobs, ruins their reputations.”

  She sighed. “I won’t deny it, Cam. By seeing me, you’d be putting yourself in his line of fire.”

  “Right, and I have my family to think of. I came with savings to back us up, but buying the land was expensive, so I need to start selling ranches before my money runs out. I don’t want my mom shouldering the load, which she will if I don’t hit my stride in the valley.”

  She nodded as if she understood, but she didn’t look happy about it. “Just in case you change your mind, would you like to have my cell number?”

  Cam saw no harm in that. “Sure.” He exchanged devices with her and punched in his name and number on her phone while she did the same on his.

  She returned his cell. He slipped hers back across the table. An edgy feeling moved up his spine. He couldn’t shake the thought that he was making a huge mistake.

  She searched his expression and smiled. “Hey, don’t feel bad about this. You’re playing it smart. My father can be bad news.”

  Cam didn’t want to sound as if he were throwing her a crumb to make her feel better, but at the same time, he couldn’t just walk away, either. “You’re a very attractive lady, Kirstin. I have a feeling I’m going to regret not seeing you again.”

  “If so, you’ve got my number.” She collected a hand-tooled leather purse from where it sat on a stool beside her. Cam knew with one look that it had probably cost a small fortune. If he’d seen it earlier, he would have known she had money and lots of it. “My fair share,” she said, placing a twenty on the table.

  “You don’t have to do that. My treat.”

  “Nonsense. Two ships passing in the night should go Dutch.” She stood and extended her hand to him before he could gain his feet. He grasped her fingers. She responded with a strong grip that told him more than she could know, particularly how hard she worked on her father’s ranch. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Cam. I’ve enjoyed it.”

  He nodded, still feeling off-center. Looking up at her, he couldn’t recall ever having met someone who appealed to him quite as much or on so many levels. In a short span of time, he’d learned so much about her, namely that she was a devoted daughter, that life had challenged her at nearly every turn, and that she had the capacity to be loyal, even when the circumstances were completely unfair to her. “Likewise. Take care of yourself, Kirstin. When you drive by the Hillbilly Village, toot your horn to say hello. I doubt that your father will go off the deep end over a little neighborly horn honking.”

  “You might be surprised what my father could read into a friendly honk.”

  Pulling the purse strap over her shoulder, she walked away. With every click of her boots, Cam silently called himself an idiot.

  Chapter Two

  As Kirstin turned off onto Fox Hollow Road, she decided she shouldn’t go home just yet. If her father looked the wrong way at her, she might bite his head off. Just before the bridge that spanned the river to touch the west corner of the McLendon property, there was a pullout where people parked to launch their boats from state land or to take their dogs for runs off leash. She decided to take a short walk. A cooling-off period.

  She turned left and pulled in beside an old Camaro with a dented back fender. Then she cut the engine of her truck. Correction, she reminded herself. It’s not my truck. Like everything else in my life, it belongs to the Conacher Ranch. She couldn’t help but resent that even though she knew that someday the entire operation would become hers. That wasn’t the same as working to buy something for herself. Not the same as having a sense of accomplishment and pride. Even her savings account didn’t feel as if it were truly hers. Every dollar had come from her father’s pocket.

  So many people thought she was lucky. Kirstin Conacher, the girl who’d been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, a girl who played at being a rancher and had never had to work hard for anything. They were so mistaken. She busted her ass every single day, and anyone who’d ever held a genuine silver spoon in their mouth knew that it soon started to taste like cheap metal, bitter on the tongue.

  She swung out of the truck, beeped the remote to lock the cab, and pushed the keys into her jeans pocket. A walk would take the edge off. She set her stride along the well-traveled trail, trying to appreciate the natural beauty that surrounded her. Groves of aspen and cottonwood lent touches of apple green to the thick stands of evergreen. Rocky beaches curved in and out along the river’s edge. Craggy mountain peaks rose like divine sculptures against the azure Montana sky. The air cooled her cheeks and tasted of the flora that thrived in the riparian area. To her, it was home, and nowhere else in the world could ever equal it.

  She just wished she could feel happy and content here. But meeting Cam and then being rejected by him had felt like the final blow in a
sense, dashing her hopes of ever having a normal life. Her father, as much as she loved him, was to single men what bear spray was to grizzlies. What guy in his right mind would ever put his livelihood at risk to start a relationship with her? Not even Cam, who seemed to have depth and be a caring person, had wanted to tangle with her dad. And she couldn’t blame him. He had a mother and a son for whom he was responsible.

  She walked over the rocks to reach the water’s edge and stared across the river at Cam McLendon’s camp. She supposed he’d been right to nickname it the Hillbilly Village. A small vintage travel trailer sat facing her. It must have been renovated, because the exterior paint, crisp white divided by a blue stripe, looked brand-new. It was an adorable RV, reminiscent of days gone by, and she would have loved to see the interior. Behind it were two dusty-looking tents, and to the left of them sat a small reddish brown cabin. A gray late-model SUV was parked near the trailer. An old Ford truck sat behind it, sporting so many dents and scrapes that it looked as if it might have been entered in a demolition derby.

  Not much to look at, she thought. But to her, that camp represented all the things she wanted in her own life. The people there were chasing a dream, and they were enduring hardship as a family to grab hold of it. The present, and all its daily trials, wasn’t their focus. In their minds, they saw what the land could one day be, and they were determined to make it happen. Cam had created a home from very little. And, yes, he’d been inventive to make his mother and son comfortable. But even from where she stood, she could sense the intense love that emanated from the hodgepodge. If only some of it would rub off on her.

  Tears filled her eyes and ran in scalding streams down her cheeks. Cam might not even know how very blessed he was. In the end, he and his family would achieve their dreams, and together they would enjoy the fruits of their determination and sacrifice. The way things were going, she doubted she might ever experience the love of a good man or get to have a child of her own. And, if her dad had his way, nothing she ever possessed would truly belong to her.

  Daddy would just give her everything.

  She turned and moved back up the slight grade to the forest. Pieces of driftwood had been cast upon the rocks, left by a swift winter current to lie there, harden, and lose all semblance of life. They were beautiful—twisted and weathered pieces of what had once been gorgeous trees. Someday when she grew old, she might resemble that wood, a withered outline of what she might have been.

  Good luck, Cam, she thought. I hope a new chapter opens up for you and that it’s wonderful beyond all your expectations.

  • • •

  Maddie MCLendon had been worried for hours. Her son, Cam, had left at six that morning, and he still wasn’t back at camp. Her biggest fear was that something horrible might happen to him. Every time her grandson, Caleb, was late, she fretted about him, too. She didn’t know how she could survive losing another loved one. Since her husband Graham’s death, her boys had become her everything. She’d read that her fears about losing someone else were a normal part of the grieving process, but Maddie disliked being normal. And she sure as heck didn’t want to be a weight around her son’s neck.

  Relief flooded through her when she heard the rumbling sound of Cam’s diesel truck. She shut down her computer and got up from her office chair, groaning under her breath because her legs were stiff from sitting for so long. Her right knee sometimes gave her fits, and that was the case today. She felt pretty good, though, and that was a bonus. She’d gotten a treatment last week and had suffered through most of what she thought of as her chemo hangover days. Though Cam was gone a lot working, even he had started to notice that she felt under the weather every couple of weeks, and he kept asking if she was okay.

  Last spring, she’d made a judicious decision not to tell him that she’d been diagnosed with colon cancer. The same disease had killed his father less than a year and a half before, and when she learned she had it herself, she couldn’t manage to hit Cam with the news. He was a strong-willed and resilient man, but he loved people to a fault, investing too much of his heart and often too much of his time into caring for others and trying to make them happy. He’d spent most of his adult life focused on rearing his son and supporting his parents. She wanted Cam to chase after his dreams and to have his own piece of the pie.

  Maddie had achieved all her dreams. She’d been blessed with a wonderful husband, the love of her life who’d fulfilled all her girlhood yearnings for a hero and romance. For years, they’d stood side by side, working to create their own little dynasty and raising their children. Maddie never looked back and felt that she’d been cheated out of anything. She’d had it all.

  Now it was Cam’s turn, and she wouldn’t derail him by telling him that she was battling for her life. Heck, no. If she lost the war, she’d have plenty of time to warn him, but until then, she was a tough old broad, she was responding well to treatments, and she could get through this without her son holding her hand.

  As was her evening habit, Maddie quickly tidied her work space and then the tiny kitchen. She’d already made her bed that morning. The vintage trailer had been redone, inside and out, and it amazed her how perfectly the designers had utilized the square footage. Compared to her former home, this place was a postage stamp, but it was cozy and warm, and she tried to keep it looking nice.

  She stepped into the miniature full bath to brush her hair, originally a short cut that had grown out a bit, much to her relief. Cropping her mane had seemed like a practical choice for camping, but instead she’d awakened each day to a nightmare of reddish brown spikes that refused to lie flat until she wet them down and blew them dry. With the extra length she had now, the style was more controllable. Not that tamer hair helped much with her looks. Light though her treatments were, the new chemo drug that was regularly infused into her bloodstream had taken its toll. Her skin was dry and crinkly. She’d been what she liked to think of as pleasingly plump before her surgery. Now her fat deposits felt like balloons that had lost all their air.

  Oh, well, she thought. I’m not losing my hair. That’s a miracle. And I’ll gain all the weight back when I get through this and be a plump grandma again. Caleb won’t worry aloud about me getting too thin anymore after he hugs me.

  As she stepped out of the trailer, she skimmed an appreciative glance over the sturdy wooden steps with a handrailing that Cam and Caleb had built for her. So sweet. They had done everything they could to make her comfortable here. It had been a difficult transition at first. She’d missed her spacious high-end home. But now she loved being here. The relaxing sound of the river, the breathtaking views of the Bitterroot Mountains from her windows, and the forest across the stream seemed to embrace and soothe her.

  Once on the rocky gravel that Caleb had spread over her front yard to cut down on mud being tracked inside, she made a mental note to call her sister in Missouri soon. Maddie had flown back there to have her tumor removed, and she’d stayed with Naomi for the first few rounds of her chemo. Now they chatted as often as possible. Naomi and her husband, Chuck, were the only members of Maddie’s family who knew about her cancer, and during those first three months, they’d been so supportive. Naomi loved getting phone calls from Maddie that began with “I’m still cancer-free!”

  She pushed open the gate and left her spacious front yard, wondering where Caleb had gotten off to. He’d come to her trailer after he’d gotten home from school and eaten a snack to hold him over until dinner. But she hadn’t seen him since, and until now she hadn’t missed him. That was one drawback of being a writer. She slipped away into another world and forgot all about the real one.

  She went directly to the wall tent that Cam had transformed into a multifunctional living area. He called it the cook shack. She found her son already standing over the propane stove, preparing a cast-iron skillet for cooking. He’d put on a bibbed apron because he still wore his work clothes: a crisp dress shirt, Western
jeans, and well-conditioned riding boots. In Maddie’s opinion, he was an extremely handsome man. Whenever she told him so, he laughed and said she saw him through the eyes of love.

  “You sure had a long day,” she said. “Did the guy make an offer?”

  Maddie hoped that Cam had gotten a nibble. He needed to make a ranch sale. She wasn’t overly worried about money, but for Cam’s peace of mind, he needed to carve his own niche in this market.

  “Nope. He just walked the land and found fault with everything. It’s a gorgeous property. I don’t know what his problem is.” He stepped over to give her a quick hug. “No worries. Someone else will go wild over it.”

  Maddie flashed a smile. “Only a matter of time.” She glanced at the skillet. “What are we making tonight? I’m done working for the day and ready to help.”

  “I’m going for simple tonight with ground beef goulash.”

  Maddie knew that no meal Cam cooked was ever simple. He loved to create different dishes from scratch and had an uncanny sense of what flavors complemented others. She stepped over to the utility sink, a stand-alone fiberglass tub with running water, to wash her hands. Then she set herself to the task of rinsing and chopping the vegetables he’d taken from the fridge.

  “Mom,” Cam said. “You don’t need to do that. Standing in one spot makes your back hurt.”

  Maddie had fibbed about her bimonthly chemo treatments, telling her boys that she was going into Missoula for physical therapy. She’d had minor back surgery several years ago, so they had accepted that explanation without question. “My back feels awesome tonight. Where’s Caleb?”

  “He offered to take care of the horses for me.” Cam winked over his shoulder at her. “It’s my turn, but I think hunger drove him to be generous.”

  Maddie laughed. “When he got home from school, he ate an entire row of Oreos, an orange, a bunch of carrot sticks, and then half a bag of chips. I think he volunteered out of the goodness of his heart, not because he’s starving.”