by Brenda Novak
“Shall we start with Noah?” she asked, thumbing through the cards while they waited.
Ted nodded. “That’ll be fun,” he said, and he was right. Noah and Adelaide were so surprised and grateful. Everyone else was, too. By the end of the night, Sophia knew that no Christmas would ever be as memorable as this one.
* * *
It was noon on Christmas Day, and the next few minutes were going to be awkward. Ted wasn’t looking forward to seeing Eve. Not after having such an incredible Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with Sophia and Alexa. Sophia had given him a digital scrapbook she’d created on the computer containing all the old photographs she’d saved from when they’d dated as teenagers; he’d given her the promise ring she’d returned when she married Skip. Their gifts hadn’t been expensive, but they’d been thoughtful and sentimental. He hadn’t wanted to give her so much that she couldn’t feel proud of her own gifts and, although he’d gotten her a few other things, he felt he’d managed that. They’d both spent most of their money on Alexa, who’d had a wonderful Christmas.
Ted hated to ruin an otherwise perfect day. But taking a homemade pie to Eve was so important to Sophia that he couldn’t say no. Besides, she was right. Now was the time to reach out to Eve, before she could build up too much resentment. He’d tried to wait a respectable amount of time after breaking up with her to start a relationship with Sophia, but...the laws of attraction had been working against him.
Eve took a while to answer the door. When she did, and saw them standing on her stoop, he could tell that she wasn’t too pleased, despite their peace offering. Her eyes shifted from Sophia to him and back again. Fortunately, Alexa wasn’t with them. They’d dropped her off at the DeBussis so she could spend a few hours with her grandparents.
“I’m afraid you caught me at a bad time,” she said. “I was about to head over to my parents’.”
Sophia spoke before he could. “We won’t hold you up. We just...we wanted to bring you this. And mostly we wanted to say that...of all the people we know, you’re one of our favorites. We both feel that way.”
Eve smiled politely and took the pie. “Thank you. I hope you have a merry Christmas.”
She started to go in and shut the door, but Sophia wasn’t satisfied. “Eve?”
Eve turned, eyebrows raised. “Yes?”
“We don’t want to lose your friendship. It’s a lot to ask that you forgive and forget, but...we—I—admire you so much.”
Ted sensed that Eve wanted to say something trite just to get rid of them but the naked emotion in Sophia’s voice, the absolute honesty, wouldn’t allow it. She hesitated, glanced at him again, and then tears filled her eyes.
“Can’t I be mad for a few weeks at least?” she asked with a watery laugh.
“As long as it doesn’t last any longer than that,” Sophia said. “Because I’m sorry if you’ve been hurt or disappointed or embarrassed. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t dragged me out of bed that night you came home with Alexa. You—your support at that critical moment—saved my life. So, believe me, if I could’ve stopped loving Ted, I would have. I tried. But I’ve been trying for fourteen years and it never works.”
“What happened was my fault,” Ted said. “Not hers. When you and I were together, she was so careful to stay out of the way. I’m the only one you should be mad at.” He offered her a sheepish grin. “But I’m sorry, too.”
Eve put the pie on a side table so she could wipe her cheeks. “We’ll get past it,” she promised, and this time her smile seemed genuine. “I know you two are meant to be together. There’s no need to feel bad about that.”
Sophia pulled her into an embrace. “I’m happy you feel that way. I would love for you to be a bigger part of my life.”
“I’d like that, too,” she said.
Ted hugged her next. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again and felt her squeeze him a little harder in return.
* * *
Sophia was tired but happy when they left Eve’s. She wanted an afternoon nap with Ted before they were supposed to pick up Alexa and go to Ted’s mother’s. Although Principal Dixon had been unusually pleasant when she called to invite them to dinner—she had invited Sophia and Alexa personally—Sophia was still a little nervous about spending the evening with her. It’d been hard enough to handle the chill when she and Ted dropped Alexa off at Skip’s parents’ house. They wanted to make it clear, despite the $15,000, that they didn’t approve of how quickly she was moving on.
Sophia didn’t care what they thought. But she did care about winning over Ted’s mother. For his sake, that was important.
“Damn it,” Ted suddenly muttered.
Surprised that he could be upset at anything today, Sophia twisted around to see what he was looking at in the rearview mirror. Chief Stacy was behind them in his cruiser—and he had his lights on.
“Were you speeding?” she asked nervously.
“Nope.”
“Then what do you think he wants?”
“To give us a hard time. What else?”
The police chief approached the car wearing his uniform and carrying his pad, as if he planned to write them a ticket.
Ted was busy with his phone until Stacy got close, but then he rolled down his window. “I do something wrong, Chief?”
Stacy didn’t answer. He leaned down and looked in at her. “Guess you came across some money after all, eh?”
She kept her hands clasped in her lap. She wasn’t nearly as frightened of him when Ted was with her, but she didn’t want to force Ted to come to her rescue, either. “I did.”
He hooked his thumbs in his belt. “I’m hearing about everybody getting a payment. It’s the talk of the town. ‘Isn’t that Sophia DeBussi wonderful?’” He gave her a hard stare. “So where’s my money?”
“Your girlfriend will be receiving $15,000 very shortly. That should make you happy.”
“Hardly. We’re not seeing each other anymore,” he said. “So you’d better just split that payment in two.”
Ted jumped in. “Sorry, Chief. That’s not going to happen. You got your money’s worth when you walked away with her jewelry. And if you push this, half this town will be up in arms against you. I think it’s fair to say that Sophia’s popularity has returned. Now...is there a reason you stopped me?”
When he straightened, Sophia could no longer see his face, but she could hear the taunt in his voice. “The fact remains that she’s going to want to play fair with me.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll make her life pretty damn miserable if she doesn’t. And she knows I can do that.”
Ted shook his head. “Come on, Chief. This is Christmas. You don’t really want to start trouble today.”
“It’s my job to look out for public safety no matter what day it is, Mr. Dixon. And I do believe you were driving way too fast as you sailed through town.”
“Bullshit. You know I wasn’t speeding.”
“Who’s to say otherwise?” he said. “Driver’s license and registration, please.”
Ted didn’t bother reaching for the glove box. “Are you sure you’re committed to this? Because if you write me a ticket, I’m just going to take it over to Mayor Rackham and file another complaint.”
Chief Stacy spat on the road. “I heard you’d been down to city hall.”
“It’s true. Levi, Dylan and Aaron have been there, too. We’re not making a secret of it. We’re tired of seeing you abuse your power. And I don’t mind telling you that Mayor Rackham isn’t too pleased, either. The complaints are stacking up. Apparently, your ex-wife knows quite a bit about how you operate and has shared that information. She claims you’ve been harassing her since the divorce. So...you might want to consider yourself lucky that you’ve gotten away with your behavior so far and
get back in your cruiser. Otherwise, you could lose your job.”
Sophia felt the desire to dig at her cuticles but curled her fingernails into her palms instead. She hadn’t realized Ted had taken action against Stacy, even though he’d once said he was going to.
Stacy sneered as if he wasn’t scared at all. “Don’t get carried away. You’re not half as tough as you pretend to be. There’s nothing you can do to me.”
“I won’t have to do anything. You’ve made enough enemies over the years to sink yourself.”
Suddenly, Stacy’s tone changed. “Let me tell you something, you little smartass prick. You go after my job, and you’ll never know peace in this town again.”
“That sounds like a threat to me, Chief,” Ted said.
“That’s a promise.” Shoving his ticket book in his pocket, he strode back to his car.
“He’s crazy,” Sophia murmured. “Let’s get out of here.”
But Ted wasn’t ready to go. He waved at Chief Stacy as if their exchange had been pleasant. “Thank you, sir. Merry Christmas!”
Obviously unhappy that he hadn’t made more of an impact, Stacy pulled his cruiser up alongside the Lexus and glared in at them before punching the gas pedal and spraying gravel against Ted’s door.
“He scares me,” Sophia said.
Ted stared after him. “Don’t worry. He won’t be around much longer.”
“How do you know?”
He held up his cell phone to show her that he’d recorded the whole encounter, then immediately sent the file to Mayor Rackham, Dylan, Aaron and Levi.
* * *
It was another two months before the city took action but by March, Whiskey Creek had a new chief of police.
Ted took Sophia out to celebrate when he heard the news—and that was when he proposed.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from HOME TO WHISKEY CREEK by Brenda Novak.
If you loved Take Me Home for Christmas, don’t miss Home to Whiskey Creek by New York Times bestselling author Brenda Novak.
Be sure to check out all the titles in the New York Times bestselling Whiskey Creek series by Brenda Novak. Available wherever ebooks are sold!
When We Touch (e-novella)
When Lightning Strikes (Book 1)
When Snow Falls (Book 2)
When Summer Comes (Book 3)
Home to Whiskey Creek (Book 4)
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Other ways to keep in touch:
Subscribe to our newsletters: Harlequin.com/newsletters
Like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com
1
The past is never dead. It’s not even past.
—William Faulkner
No way would he be able to reach her, not with his bare hands. And Noah Rackham didn’t have anything else—just his mountain bike, which lay on its side a few feet away. In the pouch beneath the seat he kept a spare tube, the small plastic tool that made it easier to change a tire and some oil for his chain but no rope, no flashlight. He wouldn’t have packed that stuff even if he’d had room. For one, he’d come out for a quick, hit-it-hard ride before sunset and wasn’t planning to be gone longer than a couple of hours. For another, no one messed around with the old mine anymore. Not since his twin brother had been killed in a cave-in a decade and a half ago, just after high school graduation.
“Hello?” Kneeling at the mouth of the shaft where someone had torn away the boards intended to seal off this ancillary opening, he called into the void below.
His voice bounced back at him, and he could hear the steady drip of water, but that was all. Why wasn’t the woman responding? A few seconds earlier, she’d cried out for help. That was the reason he’d stopped and come to investigate.
“Hey, you still there? You with me?”
“Yes. I’m here!”
Thank God she’d answered. “Tell me your name.”
“It...it’s Adelaide. But my friends call me Addy. Why?”
“I want to know who I’m talking to. Can you tell me what happened?”
“Just get me out. Please! And hurry!”
“I will. Relax, okay, Addy? I’ll think of something.”
Cursing under his breath, he rocked back on his haunches. Ahead of him, the dirt road that temporarily converged with the single track he’d been riding disappeared around a sharp bend. To his left was the mountain, and to his right, the river, rushing a hundred feet below. He saw more of the same scenery behind him. Trees. Thick undergrowth, including an abundance of poison oak. Moist earth. Rocks. Fifty-year-old tailings from the mine. And the darkening sky. There were no other people, which wasn’t unusual. Plenty of bikers and hikers used this trail, but mostly in the warmer months, and certainly not after dusk. The Sierra Nevada foothills, and the gold rush–era town where he’d grown up, were often wet and chilly by mid-October.
Should he backtrack to the main entrance of the mine? Try to get in the way they used to?
He’d already passed that spot. Someone had fixed the rusty chain-link fence to keep kids from slipping through. Noah couldn’t get beyond it, not without wire cutters or at least the claw part of a hammer. That entrance and this shaft might not even connect. It was likely they didn’t, or whoever was stranded down there would’ve made her way over—provided she was capable of moving.
Scooping up his bike, he hopped on and went to check. Sure enough, the fence, with its danger keep out sign, was riveted to the rocky outcropping surrounding the entrance. He couldn’t get through; he didn’t have the proper tools, and there was nothing close by he could substitute. The only foreign object in the whole area was a bouquet of flowers that lay wilting in the mud. Noah guessed Shania Carpenter, Cody’s old girlfriend, had placed them there. She’d probably come up here to commemorate the anniversary of when she and Cody had started dating, or become an item, or first made love or...whatever. She’d married, divorced and had a kid, in that order, but she’d never gotten over Cody’s death.
Neither had Noah. It felt as if a part of him had died that night.
And now someone else’s life could end the same way.
Certain that this entrance wasn’t the answer to his problem, he returned to the shaft. He never would’ve noticed this other opening if not for that cry for help. The boards that’d been pried loose were so covered by moss they blended in with the rest of the scenery.
“I’m not going to be able to reach you,” he called down. “Is there some other way out? A tunnel that might not be sealed off?”
Considering what had happened to his brother, was it safe for her to move?
“No. I—I’ve tried everything!”
The hysteria in those words concerned him. “Okay. Listen, I know you’re...frightened, but try to stay calm. How badly are you hurt?”
“I’m not sure.” It sounded as though she couldn’t suck in enough air to speak normally, but he couldn’t tell if that came from fright, exhaustion or injury. “Help me, please.”
He wanted to help; he just didn’t know how. The shaft was too deep to reach her without rope. But if he hurried off to notify rescue personnel, he wasn’t sure she’d be alive when he got back. Trying to bring others would take too much time. There was no place for a helicopter to land. And it wouldn’t be easy to get an ambulance in here. A Jeep or truck could make it, but even that would be a challenge in the dark. Flooding several years ago had washed away parts of the old road.
But if he stayed, he’d soon lose all daylight and he had no flashlight. Even if he managed to get the woman out, h
ow would he transport her in the pitch-black?
“Can you walk?” he called.
There was a slight delay. “How far?”
“I’m wondering if you’re mobile, so I can assess the situation.”
“I—I’m mobile.”
That made a difference. It meant she wasn’t so badly off that he couldn’t sit her on his bike and run alongside. If he could get to her.
He was pretty sure he had a flashlight and a length of rope in his truck. He might even have food or something else that would come in handy. A sweatshirt would keep her warm, at least. He could use it if she didn’t need it. It’d been a nice day, hence his lightweight bike shorts and T-shirt, but it was growing colder by the minute.
“Sit tight,” he called down. “I have to go to my truck but I’ll be back. I promise.”
“Don’t leave me!”
Panic fueled those words. “I’ll be back,” he repeated.
Tension tied his stomach into knots as he ignored her protests and clipped his feet into the pedals of his bike. The uneven ground and rocks and roots that offered the challenges he so enjoyed suddenly became unwelcome obstacles, jarring him despite the expensive shock absorbers on his bike. He was moving faster than ever before, especially through this stretch, where the riding was so technical, but he had no choice. If he didn’t...
He couldn’t even think about what might happen if he didn’t. He’d seen his brother’s crushed head. They’d made the decision as a family not to have an open casket.
Small pebbles scattered, churned up by his tires as he charged through patches of gravel. Hoping to shave off a few minutes, he climbed a steep embankment he typically tried only when he wanted maximum difficulty.
He made it up and over the ridge, and down the other side without mishap, but it felt as if it were taking forever to reach the highway.
By the time the trail leveled out, his lungs burned and his quads shook, but he knew that had more to do with fear than physical exertion. He owned Crank It Up, a bike shop in Whiskey Creek, and raced mountain bikes professionally. Thanks to endless hours of training, his body could handle twenty minutes of balls-to-the-wall riding. It was the memories of the day he’d learned his brother was dead and the frightened sound of Addy’s voice that made what he was doing so difficult.