Home for Christmas

by Melissa McClone

  He'd thought she was pretty yesterday. Today, out here in the fresh air with a smile on her face, she looked beautiful.

  Nate sucked in a breath. The cold air stung. He didn't care, didn't want to take his gaze off her.

  Standing in front of the snowman, she pushed two pebbles into the face for eyes then stuck a carrot in the center for a nose. She stepped back, surveying her work.

  "Aren't you a handsome fella? But something's missing." Rachel removed her scarf and tied the bright cloth around the snowman's neck. "That's better. You'll drive all the snowwomen crazy."

  The way she talked to the snowman as if he were Frosty come to life was cute. She sniffled, shook her hands, and tugged on her gloves.

  Knit gloves, the wrong kind for playing in the snow. But someone who wasn't from around here might not know that.

  Nate took a step forward, then stopped. Telling her she needed different gloves wasn't the right tactic, given her independent streak. He'd bring her a pair. Let her see the difference herself.

  He sprinted to the house, grabbed gloves from a basket in the mudroom then returned to the meadow. "Nice snowman."

  She stiffened, glanced his way then looked back at her snow friend.

  "A little lopsided." She stuck sticks into the sides for arms. "But not too bad considering it's been ten years since I last made one."

  "Not a lot of snow in Phoenix."

  She straightened the scarf. "We had a little in February, a mix of snow, rain and hail. I had to work, so missed out on the fun, though driving to and from the bakery was interesting."

  "You worked at a bakery?"

  "I was on the before-the-sun-rises, also known as the moonset shift. That's what we called it." She adjusted the snowman's nose. "I also worked as a pastry chef at a restaurant in the evening."

  "When did you sleep?"

  "Whenever I could."

  "Not a lot of time for fun."

  She rubbed her hands together. "The hours were hard on my social life, but I had no complaints. I made decent money, enough to save some so I could open my own business."

  Nate could provide her with all the capital she needed this time. He'd spent a significant amount of money turning the Bar V5 into a working dude ranch, but had his own fund for investment ventures. He preferred investing locally so he wouldn't have to be away from the ranch.

  "Your gloves look soaked." He held up the pair he'd brought out. "These are waterproof. They'll work better when you make the next one."

  "Thanks, my hands are kind of cold." Little lines formed above her nose. "But how did you know I wanted to make more than one snowman?"

  "I saw how much food you make. You don't seem like a less is more kind of person."

  "I'm not." She struggled to remove her gloves. "But Ty is. He always puts my needs ahead of his own."

  Not this time, if Nate could stop him. A year from now, Rachel would be living in Marietta, unable to remember what she liked about Arizona. "Let me take off your gloves."

  He expected Rachel to say no. She held out her hands instead. A good sign? He hoped so.

  Nate peeled off the first glove, then the second. He tossed them on the snow. "These are soaking wet."

  She wiggled her pale fingers. "It's not so bad."

  "That's what they all say before frostbite sets in." His dad used to carry a handkerchief in his back pocket. Nate wished he had one now. "We need to dry off your hands."

  "My scarf."

  He wiped her hands with the side not touching the snowman. "That's better, but they're still cold."

  "I'm fine."

  "Yes, you are." He removed his gloves then tucked them under his arm next to her new ones. "But your hands aren't. Let's warm them up."

  "O-kay." She sounded hesitant, anything but okay.

  He covered her hands with his. So cold he let go for an instant. "You're fingers feel like popsicles."

  Rachel tensed, pulled back slightly. "You're exaggerating."

  He rubbed his hands over hers, trying to use the friction and his own body heat to help her hands. "This will be quick and painless."

  "I wouldn't be so sure about that," she muttered.

  "Relax." Rachel didn't have the soft, pampered skin of some women he knew. His fingers brushed over calluses and rough patches. These were the hands of a worker. His thumb ran back and over what felt like a wide scar. "What happened here?"

  "A burn."

  "From an oven?"

  "Campfire. Making s'mores." She sighed. "I'll never get a job as a hand model."

  "No hand model could bake as well as you."

  Her gaze met his and sent a lightning bolt of heat crackling through him.

  "Thanks," she said, her voice quiet.

  Nate didn't know if she meant his compliment or warming up her hands. He didn't care. Not with awareness of this woman zinging through him. "You're welcome."

  He liked the smaller size of her hand compared to his. Hers were practical hands, clipped nails with no polish. Hands that kneaded dough and worked magic with icing. Hands that belonged at the ranch, able to do long days of hard work without complaint. Hands that fed stomachs and souls.

  Her skin wasn't silky smooth, but warm. He massaged each of her thin, tapered fingers.

  "Um, Nate." Her lips parted, her cheeks redder than before. "My hands aren't cold anymore. I'm ready for the gloves."

  Crap. He let go of her as if he were holding a scalding branding iron barehanded. How long had he been holding her hands?

  Nate held open the gloves, trying to convince himself what he'd been doing was nothing but basic first aid to ward off hypothermia and frostbite.

  Rachel stuck her hands inside. She adjusted her jacket sleeves while he put on his gloves. "These are better. I'm glad you stopped by."

  Then he remembered his reason for being here. Nate had completely forgotten about Operation: Hansel and Gretel once he'd touched Rachel. Not first aid, foreplay. He shook the thought from his head. Time to focus. "I'm here because I want to talk to you about gingerbread."

  She released a slow breath, the condensation hung on the air. The only thing missing was the word SIGH! floating inside a dialog bubble. "Do we have to now? I want to build another snowman."

  "I can multitask."

  "Then let's get started." She dropped to her knees and made a ball of snow. "I want to make a bigger one this time."

  Her jacket inched up, giving him a nice view of her butt. He could stand here and stare all day except he was supposed to be building a snowman and talking with her. "Okay, but your jeans are getting wet."

  Not that he'd mind warming up her calves, knees, thighs...

  "I always bring spare clothes." She rolled the ball in the snow, making it bigger. "Cooking mishaps, snowman making. You never know what a day will hold."

  That was for certain. He'd better stop slacking off and make the middle section.

  "So you wanted to talk about gingerbread?" she prompted.

  "Any orders come in last night?"

  "One, but getting the word out about a new business can be challenging. It takes time."

  Nate didn't know if she was trying to convince him or herself. "Christmas is less than three weeks away. This is the prime time for gingerbread. What do you think about selling your houses and cookies at a tree farm this weekend?"

  Rachel froze. She looked up. "Christmas tree farm?"

  Nate nodded.

  Emotions flashed across her face. Surprise, excitement, caution, wariness. She pressed her lips together. "I don't need your help."

  Replacing the need with want would be closer to the truth. Too bad. He would help her whether she liked it or not. "Just passing along an opportunity."

  "Opportunity?"

  The disbelief in her voice made Nate feel like a scam artist trying to con senior citizens out of their social security checks. He didn't like the feeling one bit. He was helping Rachel, not hurting her. "An opportunity to sell your gingerbread during one of the tree far
m's busiest weekends."

  She sat on her heels, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why are you going to so much trouble to help me?"

  Nate felt like he was talking Ty into the dude ranch proposition all over again. Nate knew Rachel was wary of his business interest. He assumed she had good reasons to be so suspicious. He would have to be careful.

  "Couple of reasons." Nate rolled his ball of snow. "You bake great gingerbread. Your houses are creative and well done. You could make a killing this Christmas with the right marketing approach."

  "The second reason?"

  "Ty."

  The lines above her nose returned. "What does my brother have to do with this?"

  "If not for your brother, the Bar V5, what my father always called our Vaughn family legacy, might belong to someone else. I've tried to repay Ty with both money and land, but..."

  "He won't accept anything."

  Nate nodded.

  "So you want to do something nice for Ty by helping me."

  "Yes." Not only beautiful, but also sharp and quick. Nate liked the idea of her sticking around town, too. "Except you keep saying no."

  She went back to working on her snowman. "I'm not saying no to be difficult."

  "Then say yes."

  "It's not that easy."

  "Three letters aren't difficult so say."

  "It's just..." Her shoulders sagged then she straightened. "Something happened recently in Arizona. Something that makes it hard for me to, um..."

  He was tempted to back off—she was private, he respected that—but secrets wouldn't regain a business or keep Ty here. "Hard for you to..."

  "Believe what people tell me."

  This must be what Ty had mentioned. "What happened?"

  She focused on the snowman, but her eyes looked miles, if not states, away. Most likely back in Arizona.

  He wanted her to share everything, but at her pace. "If you'd rather not..."

  "I want you to know this isn't personal."

  He worked on the snowman, ignored the urge to move closer, to lend her a comforting hand.

  She moistened her lips, took one deep breath, then another. "Two people I considered good friends, people I admired and worked hard for, offered to help me start my own shop a few months ago. We became business partners. Set our Grand Opening for Black Friday."

  "That was a week and a half ago."

  She nodded. "They fooled me. They didn't want to be partners. They wanted the business for themselves, including the space I'd found, and ended up stealing everything I'd been planning for years."

  Nate had a feeling there was more to the story. One day she might feel comfortable enough to share that with him. "Did you speak with an attorney?"

  "Yes, but we'd never signed a contract. Everything was verbal. Their word against mine. Even if I had a way of proving what they'd done, they are so wealthy. I couldn't afford the legal fees to take them to court."

  "I'm sorry."

  Nate was. He understood Ty's concerns better.

  "You can see why I'm wary if anyone offers their help, right?"

  "You've got to realize some offers are sincere." He noticed her slight shrug. "Mine is."

  Her gaze jerked up to meet his. "Because of Ty."

  "And you." Nate meant that. Sure, he wanted Ty to stay, but Rachel was a smart woman with a world of talent. Nate liked having her at the ranch.

  Not that he was going to start anything or beg, but yesterday's lunch had been the best off-season meal in years, comparable to summer meals that took a kitchen staff to prepare.

  Another shrug.

  This was going to be a harder sell than he'd imagined. "You were screwed. It's easy to see why you're reluctant. But hear me out about the tree farm."

  "I'm listening."

  "This morning I spoke with Carson Scott. We grew up together. He owns a Christmas tree farm. This weekend is his biggest of the year. Big crowds. Well, big for Marietta. They'll be offering sleigh rides to customers. Sage Carrigan, who owns Copper Mountain Chocolates, will sell hot cocoa. I told Carson about your gingerbread. He said you could set up a stand. Sell cookies and your houses."

  "You talked to him about me?"

  Nate couldn't tell from her tone if she was interested or angry. "Your product seemed a good fit."

  "A perfect fit, except..." Those adorable worry lines above her nose returned telling him her brain was trying to figure things out. "I'll need tables, a pop-up tent, lots more supplies to make gingerbread."

  Smart women with a workable plan had always been a turn-on. "Sounds like a yes."

  "If I can figure out the logistics. Where to get all the stuff I need. How much to bake."

  "No worries," he said. "We use tables and tents in the summer. Tell Ty what you need and he can pull them out of storage."

  "Only if you let me rent them."

  Nate wanted to list the reasons she didn't need to pay, but realized she wouldn't use the tables for free. Fine. He could play this her way. "Sure, if you pay me in baked goods."

  "Deal." She bit her lip, making him wonder what she tasted like. Sweet or a little spicy? "I'll need to borrow Ty's truck. Baking supplies will be cheaper in a bigger town."

  "Bozeman has a Costco. I have a membership."

  "Nate—"

  "I have things to buy there myself." So what if he'd shopped there two days ago? He could find something to buy in the warehouse, whether he needed it or not. This was for Ty, even if the idea of spending the afternoon with Rachel appealed to Nate on a gut level. "Make a list of what you'll need. I'll drive you after lunch."

  That wariness returned to her gaze. "Don't you have work to do?"

  "I have five guys who can cover for me. The winter is our slow season. The priorities are keeping the driveway plowed, the paths shoveled, the animals fed and watered, and the utilities working. We fill the time with maintenance and upgrade projects."

  "Okay, then." She stood, wiped the snow off her legs. "I'd better get busy."

  "What about your snowman?"

  "Later. I have work to do if I'll be away this afternoon."

  Nate laughed. Same work ethic as Ty, only Rachel was better looking and smelled nicer. "You're so much like your brother."

  "That's the best compliment you could give me." Her bright-as-Christmas-tree-lights smile made Nate feel warm and fuzzy. "Even if he can be a pain in the butt."

  Ty had tried Nate's patience a time or two, but agreeing with her didn't seem wise. His loyalty was to his best friend and partner. Even if the woman in front of him heated him up better than a cup of coffee.

  "Thank you for talking to your friend," she added. "This could be the break I needed."

  "I have another idea if you're interested in hearing it."

  She opened her mouth then closed it. "How about on the drive?"

  "You've got yourself a deal."

  And though she didn't realize it, she had herself a business partner, too. A silent one.

  "You were quiet during lunch."

  "It's hard to talk over all you cowboys." Rachel put the last plate into the dishwasher then faced her brother. "You boys have two volumes, loud and louder."

  "True, but you were talkative yesterday." Ty's eyes darkened to a stormy green. "What's going on?"

  She wiped her hands on a dishtowel, glanced out the window at the snow-covered meadow and sparkling river in the distance. "It really is beautiful here."

  "Now I know something's wrong. Tell me what's going on, kiddo."

  "Nothing."

  "Don't say nothing when there's something."

  Ty knew her too well. Of course he did. He was all she had. He'd been there when she'd started her period. When she'd nearly failed Pre-calculus. When she'd been dumped three days before the homecoming dance. When she'd gone against his judgment and kept dating one of his cowboy co-workers only to find out the jerk was cheating on her.

  But Ty hadn't been there with the others, especially the Darbys.

  Would he
have seen through their lies and fake smiles? She toyed with the towel, twisting the fabric.

  "Tell me."

  "It's Nate." Rachel didn't know where to begin, but she knew what to leave out—that she thought her brother's boss was a tasty piece of eye candy and she'd gone from freezing to feverish in seconds when Nate rubbed her hands. "He talked to Carson Scott about my selling gingerbread at his tree farm this weekend."

  "I know Carson. Nice guy."

  "Nate said you could get tables and a pop-up tent out of storage for me."

  "Sure, but—" Ty scratched his head "—this sounds like a great opportunity. How come you're not bouncing around with a big smile on your face?"

  She ran her teeth over her lower lip. "Nate's driving me to Bozeman this afternoon so I can buy baking supplies."

  "Still not getting why you look like a barn cat who missed out on the last mouse instead of one with an overflowing food bowl."

  Not missed out, had the mouse stolen right from her mouth. "Nate's going out of his way to help me."

  "He's that kind of guy."

  "You trust him, right?"

  "Completely." Ty's gaze softened. "I know you got burned bad in Phoenix, but folks here are different."

  "Accepting Nate's help feels... weird. Wrong." She wrapped her arms over her stomach. "I want to do this on my own."

  "You've been doing great on your own, but everyone needs help sometimes." Ty placed his hand on her shoulder. "Nate's a good guy. Honest. Smart, too. I thought turning the Bar V5 into a working dude ranch would destroy it, thought about quitting, but turns out Nate was right. He's the one to ask if you have a question about business."

  "You sound certain."

  "I am. I trust him with my life and with you."

  Rachel knew her brother wouldn't lead her astray, but she couldn't help question Nate's motives. He made her feel warm and safe and smile in spite of herself. No one made her feel like that except Ty, but he was her brother. Nate was a businessman. A nice guy, maybe, but she couldn't shake her misgivings. He reminded her of a firecracker, something to ooh and ahh over and watch explode from a safe distance so she didn't get burned again. "I guess I wouldn't have found out about the Christmas tree farm without Nate."

  "That's right." Ty pulled her in for one of his bear hugs. "Everything will be fine, kiddo. Let Nate help you. I have a feeling if you do, you'll make enough money for a lease deposit."