Undercover Christmas

by BJ Daniels

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Jabe said, coming out of the dining room to take her coat.

  “Not really.” Just the thought of another meal with the family—and Chase—

  “Wait until you taste Hilda’s pancakes,” Jabe said as he hung her coat in the closet and closed the door. “You’ll change your mind.”

  “I need to get out of here,” she said, sounding as panicky as she felt.

  He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask how things had gone in the barn. “I’m afraid we’re snowed in. Until the storm lets up, you have no choice but to stay,” he said, patting her hand as he led her toward the dining room. “This is all going to work out. You’ll see.”

  Right, Marni thought. She couldn’t imagine things getting any worse.

  Most of the family were already seated, overdressed and just as silent and unfriendly as they’d been at dinner last night around the table now laden with plates of pancakes, bacon, ham, eggs, fried potatoes and biscuits and gravy.

  As she sat down, Marni noticed two chairs remained empty. Lilly’s. And Chase’s.

  She wondered how they got out of breakfast when she couldn’t. Not that anyone really seemed to want her there. Except Jabe. Vanessa didn’t even bother to look up from the soft-boiled eggs and dry toast Hilda slid in front of her. Dayton and Felicia gave Marni a brief contemptuous look. She felt Hayes studying her, but when she met his gaze she saw more curiosity than vindictiveness.

  “Lilly’s not feeling well this morning,” Hayes said as if someone had asked. When no one responded, he returned his attention to the large plate of food in front of him, his appetite noticeably improved over last night’s.

  Marni got the impression that this wasn’t the first morning Lilly hadn’t shown for breakfast She was no doubt sleeping off a major hangover.

  Just about the time Marni began to wonder what had happened to Chase, he came in, frowning as he took his chair. She wondered if the frown was due to her or his phone call. It dawned on her that the phone must be working again. She’d call Elise right after breakfast. Elise would be sympathetic to Chase’s memory loss; she’d find hope in it. And they’d get through Christmas.

  Maybe there’d be a Christmas miracle. And Chase would get his memory back on Christmas Eve and remember his love for Elise and their baby. Marni was so lost in her safe fairy tale that she forgot she wasn’t hungry. As Jabe passed her plate after plate of food, he quickly proved he was right about her appetite. She lathered butter and thick homemade peach preserves on a pancake and took a bite, unconsciously closing her eyes to savor it.

  At the sound of a soft chuckle, her eyes flew open and instantly she felt the heat of embarrassment wash over her as she saw it was Jabe. She sneaked a glance at Chase, only to find him watching her, looking amused.

  “What do you think of Hilda’s pancakes?” Jabe asked, still chuckling.

  Marni smiled and licked the sweet preserves from her upper lip. “Amazing. I’d love her recipe.” She’d make them Christmas morning for the whole family to celebrate Elise and Chase’s engagement—

  “You cook?” Felicia asked.

  “My mother insisted we all learn to cook and sew, even my brothers,” Marni said, warmed by the pancakes and a subject dear to her heart, her family.

  “How many brothers do you have?” Jabe asked.

  “Four. They’re all older than—” she felt the near slip on her lips “—me and my sister.”

  Both Hayes and Dayton glanced up. “There’s more at home like you?” Dayton asked, making what could have been a compliment sound just the opposite.

  “My sister is nothing like me,” Marni said quickly in Elise’s defense.

  “Your mother sounds like a smart woman,” Jabe commented.

  “I think I’m going to throw up,” Felicia announced, sliding her chair back from the table. She tossed down her napkin and rushed from the room.

  Dayton watched her leave with only mild concern.

  “’Morning sickness,” Vanessa said.

  “Did you suffer morning sickness?” Jabe asked Marni as he passed her more pancakes.

  “I was fortunate,” she said, busying herself with the pancakes, eyes averted. “I missed that part.”

  “Where were you raised?” Jabe asked.

  Yesterday his questions had been pointed and part of a test. Today they seemed kindled out of a sincere desire to know more about the woman who was about to give birth to his grandchild. Elise’s baby. His first grandchild, Marni reminded herself with growing apprehension.

  She told him about growing up in rural Montana, climbing trees, swimming in the creek, playing baseball, camping in the back pasture under the cottonwoods.

  She realized with a start that she’d been describing her own childhood’—not Elise’s. Elise had been more prissy, playing with dolls, holding elaborate tea parties on the front porch and refusing to bait her own hook when she did go along fishing. While Elise didn’t have the patience to sit and wait for a fish to bite, she could spend hours planning elaborate skits, which she directed after charming her siblings into participating.

  Marni shot a look at Chase, surprised that she seemed to have his full attention, although from the look on his face, he wasn’t enjoying her stories. He looked angry and upset. Had something she said made him remember one of El’s childhood stories? Was it possible he would remember everything before Christmas? Remember Elise and give her that happy ending El and the baby so deserved? And let Marni forget all that foolishness she’d felt in the barn?

  “Your childhood sounds idyllic,” Jabe said.

  “It was,” Marni said, her hand going to Sam without her realizing what she was doing. “I always thought if I ever had children, that’s what I’d want for them.”

  “You haven’t always planned to have children?” Chase asked.

  She met his gaze. “No,” she answered truthfully. “I always saw myself as a doting aunt.” She looked down at Sam again. “Sometimes I still have trouble seeing myself as a mother.”

  ‘I’m sure Chase is having the same problem seeing himself as a father,” Dayton commented wryly.

  “Fatherhood is something a man shouldn’t take lightly,” Chase said.

  Marni couldn’t tell whether that was meant for Jabe or Dayton. Both busied themselves with breakfast.

  “How was your phone call?” Dayton asked Chase.

  “Odd, but it seems the phone lines are still down,” Chase answered, not looking up from his plate.

  “Huh,” Dayton said. “Must have gone down about the time I came out to the barn to look for the two of you.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say.” Chase glanced up at Marni, concern in his gaze.

  Marni swallowed. Dayton had purposely gotten rid of Chase? What for? Just so he could insult her? Or had he had something else planned for her and changed his mind? She concentrated on her food, telling herself she’d never let Dayton get her alone again.

  “Dayton didn’t get to tell you last night at dinner,” Vanessa said, smiling at her husband. “But Felicia’s further along than we all thought. Almost seven months.”

  That brought everyone’s attention up from their breakfasts.

  “Seven months?” Jabe demanded, spearing the last piece of ham. “She doesn’t look that pregnant.”

  “She’s always watched her figure,” Vanessa said, and added pointedly, “Not all women blow up like a balloon when they’re pregnant.”

  Feeling her face burn red hot, Marni chewed her last bite of pancake in the thick, tense-filled silence that followed. When she dared sneak a look at Chase, she found him smiling in obvious amusement, not in the least sympathetic to her predicament.

  AFTER BREAKFAST, Jabe announced that he’d picked up the weather report on the mobile radio. Bozeman Pass was closed and some parts of Interstate 90 were open only to emergency traffic because of blowing and drifting snow.

  “In other words, we’re snowed in,” Dayton said, not looking any more
pleased by the news than Marni. The road down to Maudlow was impassable and would stay that way until the county plowed it. Or until the Calloways plowed themselves out.

  “No reason to start plowing until it quits snowing and blowing,” Jabe said. “It would just drift back in behind the plow.”

  Marni had the unpleasant thought that Jabe might be just trying to keep her here. But as powerful as Jabe Calloway was, he couldn’t control the weather, she told herself.

  She listened as he barked orders to his two youngest sons and realized that Dayton and Hayes were both involved in the family business with jobs that often took them away from the ranch. Not menial chores such as mucking out the barn since hired hands normally took care of the horses.

  But not today. The crew wouldn’t be able to get into the ranch to work because of the storm. That meant Dayton and Hayes would have to do all the chores, something that didn’t go over well with either of them, judging from the looks on their faces.

  But they didn’t argue and it became obvious who ran Calloway Ranches, and who took orders. Jabe could be a hard man, she decided. He was used to getting his way. And his sons seemed to dance to his tune. All except one.

  “Why don’t you stay off that leg and see that Elise doesn’t get bored,” Jabe ordered Chase irritably after everyone else had left the table.

  Chase gave his father a patient smile. “With her active imagination, boredom is the last thing she has to worry about.”

  Active imagination, huh? If he only knew.

  Chase got to his feet and, leaning on his crutches, smiled down at her. “But don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.”

  The threat in his voice sent a shiver through her. Just the thought of the two of them alone again together—Everything be damned, she couldn’t go on pretending to be Elise. She couldn’t let what almost happened in the barn happen again.

  “Chase, there’s something we need to talk about.”

  He smiled. “Whatever the lady wants.”

  Marni didn’t like the look in Chase’s eyes as Jabe got up from the table. “I’ll see that no one interrupts the two of you,” he said and closed the door behind him.

  Marni didn’t like the sound of that. “Look, I’m not the woman you think I am,” she said.

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that,” Chase said, coming around to her side of the table. “We’re completely alone again. That is what you wanted, right?”

  She got to her feet, backing away from him. “I didn’t want to get you alone to—”

  “But you did want to get me alone again,” he interrupted. “Or did you finally want to tell me that we’ve never been lovers, never spent four days together, let alone four “’magical’ nights and that there is no way you’re carrying my child?”

  Damn him. That’s exactly what she wanted to tell him. And a confession is exactly what he wanted. If she told him the truth now, he wouldn’t even listen. All he’d hear was that he’d been right all along: She wasn’t pregnant, wasn’t his lover and had never been. He’d laugh at the whole twin-sister routine and throw her out into the storm.

  “You’re going to feel pretty foolish when you remember everything,” she said, realizing immediately it wasn’t the catchy comeback she’d hoped for.

  “When I remember, I fear you’re going to regret it.” She didn’t doubt that for a moment.

  CHASE FOUND HIMSELF backing her into a corner again and looking forward to it. He stopped himself, remembering only too well what had almost happened earlier in the barn. He had to get a grip. After all, he was trying to prove to her that they’d never been lovers. He’d start by trying to reason with the woman. Then if that didn’t work…well, there was always making love to her on the dining room table.

  He sat down and tried to see past her cute sweet face to the gold digger he knew her to be. Whoever this woman was, she had come here on false pretenses to pass off an-other man’s child as his own, hoping to capitalize on his misfortune and his father’s wealth and ego. Well, Chase wasn’t about to let that happen.

  After sitting through breakfast, listening to tales of her childhood, he was all the more convinced that nothing she could say or do could convince him he’d been her lover. She was the kind of woman he’d avoided since puberty. There was no way he’d have ever let himself get close to her. Miss McCumber and her perfect childhood were much too dangerous.

  “There are a lot of reasons you and I never had a four-day affair,” he said, trying to replace the emotions she stirred in him with something safe like good old familiar anger. He’d show up this charlatan for the liar she was. “Number one, you’re not my type.”

  She raised an eyebrow but took a chair a safe distance from him. “And what type is your type?”

  He didn’t want to admit what that had always been. Simple and safe. “Tall, leggy, busty…”

  “Shallow?” she offered.

  “Noncombative,” he said, not liking the way this was going. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  She shot him a wide-eyed innocent look. “What man would want a woman who might intellectually challenge him?”

  He growled. “Why do women think men want to be challenged? Maybe we just want peace and quiet.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Number two,” he said through gritted teeth. It amazed him how she could make him doubt himself, make him think against all his arguments that maybe somehow she had been part of his memory loss. He’d never thought of pregnant women as beautiful or intriguing or…sensual. But this one—If she had her way, she’d have him thinking he was falling for her. “Why would I ask you to lunch after you’d just run into my truck?”

  “I think we both know the answer to that one,” she said, giving him a dirty look. “You obviously thought I was your type.”

  He cursed himself for starting this. “Where did I take you for lunch?”

  “Guadalupe’s.”

  “That tiny, out-of-the-way Mexican-food place?” he asked in surprise.

  “I take it that isn’t where you usually wine and dine your…bustier dates?” Her innocent look had a sharp edge to it. “Maybe you didn’t want us to be seen.”

  He frowned, wondering if that was exactly what he’d been thinking, if he had indeed taken her there. Which, of course, he hadn’t “What did I order?”

  She gave him a blank look.

  “You don’t remember,” he accused. He always ordered the same thing at Mexican-food restaurants. If she’d said anything but chile rellenos, he would have known she was lying. For just a moment, he thought he had her.

  “I don’t remember, I was…nervous.”

  He definitely made her nervous, he knew that. “What did you have?” he asked, studying her.

  “Chile rellenos. My favorite.”

  He groaned inwardly. Her favorite was his favorite. Oh, brother. And on top of that, he liked her appetite as much as his father did. “You’re not exactly a light eater, are you?”

  She lifted her chin. “Do you have a problem with that?” she asked defiantly.

  He had to laugh. It seemed to surprise her. “No. I find it…refreshing.” Just like you find her refreshing? “Did I kiss you during dinner?”

  Marni shook her head and avoided his gaze. He couldn’t imagine how any man had impregnated this woman. She seemed so…chaste. He remembered the way she’d reacted to his kiss last night. The way she’d reacted to his touch in the barn. Just the memory stirred something inside him he didn’t want stirred.

  “We didn’t kiss until…later at the…motel,” she said.

  What? He stared at her. “You’re kidding?”

  She looked away. “You were…shy.”

  Right. “I would have kissed you at dinner. Just looking that face of yours—” He raked a hand through his hair and glared at the ceiling. “If I’d taken you to Guadalupe’s, I would have requested a private booth in the back, candleight even though it was lunch and chile rellenos for both of us. I would have kis
sed you the moment the waiter walked away.”

  “How can you be so sure?” she asked, seeming to fight for breath under his gaze.

  “Because that’s what I’d like to do with you now,” he said honestly.

  She swallowed. “Take me to Guadalupe’s?”

  He found himself on his feet, balancing on his good leg. “Kiss you.”

  She shot up out of her chair. “We already tried that. It didn’t jog your memory.”

  “I don’t give a damn about my memory or what happened months ago,” he snapped, realizing how true that was. “All I care about is what’s happening right now.” He was on her before he knew what he was doing.

  She looked scared. “You’ve forgotten about the baby.”

  “Not likely,” he said, looking down at her protruding stomach, the only thing that was keeping them apart—other than the enormous lie she was telling. “That’s all I’ve thought about since yesterday when you walked through the door. You. And the baby.” He’d driven himself crazy, knowing she wasn’t locked somewhere in his faulty memory, torturing himself with the impossible thought that she was.

  “There’s only one way to prove that I’ve never made love to you.” He shoved aside the food and plates on the table in one swift noisy movement and lifted Marni up on the table, wondering how far he’d go, how far he’d have to go. He knew how far he wanted to go. “Trust me, I’ll be gentle.”

  Chapter Seven

  Oh, no, he plans to take me right here. Right on the dining-room table! “You wouldn’t!” Marni cried.

  “After those four days we spent together, surely you realize I would do more than make love to you on a dining-room table,” Chase said.

  No, she told herself. He wouldn’t dare.

  But she couldn’t forget the way he’d made her feel in the barn. She’d wanted to kiss him, wanted him to touch her, wanted him to—Oh yes, she’d wanted him to make love to her. Not that she would have let him. Not that she would ever betray her sister. But she wanted him.