A Thunder Canyon Christmas

by RaeAnne Thayne

  He had to stop thinking about Elise. A pleasant evening with Christine would be the perfect diversion.

  He hoped.

  “We’ll have your table ready in just a moment, Mr. Clifton.”

  “No problem, Sara. We don’t mind waiting.”

  Elise felt a pang of sympathy for the hostess at The Gallatin Room at the Thunder Canyon Resort, who looked on the verge of a full-fledged panic attack that her boss and his family had to wait even thirty seconds.

  Grant had been running the ski resort—now a four-season destination—for several years. He seemed to be highly respected by his employees, with perhaps a healthy amount of fear added to the mix.

  She had a hard time reconciling his professional persona with her teasing, sometimes annoying older brother.

  After her disaster of an outing the night before at The Hitching Post and the gossip she knew likely had galloped through town, her first instinct was to stay at the ranch where she was safe, to avoid showing her face around town. But her usually sweet mother could be stubborn about certain things.

  “We’ve hardly had a moment with Grant and Stephanie since…well, since everything happened with Erin and since you and I came back to Thunder Canyon,” Helen had said that afternoon. “With Grant’s busy schedule from now until New Year’s, who knows when we’ll have time for a family dinner again.”

  Elise hadn’t known how to wiggle out of it. As the hostess finally led them through the always-crowded restaurant toward the best table overlooking the snow-covered mountains, she wished she’d tried a little harder.

  Many of the guests were tourists in town for holiday skiing but she recognized several locals, who all seemed to follow the Cliftons’ progress through the restaurant with avid, hungry gazes.

  “I hate this,” she muttered under her breath.

  She really hadn’t meant to say the words aloud but she must have. Stephanie, Grant’s wife, tucked her arm through Elise’s. “Hate what, honey?”

  “Everybody’s staring and whispering at us,” she finally said. “I feel like some kind of circus freak.”

  Stephanie’s blue eyes warmed with compassion and she smiled, squeezing Elise’s arm. “And here I thought they were staring at me, in all my voluptuous glory.”

  Elise had to laugh. Steph was seven months pregnant, due in February, but carried the baby well on her slim, athletic frame.

  “You’re right.” Elise smiled back, grateful at Steph for yanking her out of her pity party. “What else would they be looking at but how utterly, gorgeously pregnant you are? How narcissistic of me to automatically assume I’m always the center of attention.”

  “Wait until you’re either a bride or pregnant for that,” Steph said.

  By then they had reached their table and Grant pulled out the chairs for all three of the women. “Aren’t I the luckiest guy here, to have the three most beautiful women in town at my table?”

  “Suck-up,” Elise muttered, earning a grin from her older brother. She couldn’t resist returning his smile. Elise reached for her water glass when the hostess filled it, then nearly dumped the whole thing over when she spotted the couple sitting only three tables away from them.

  Matt Cates seemed to be enjoying a very cozy dinner for two with a slender, lovely brunette. The woman was laughing at something he said and leaning into him, her body language clearly telegraphing an easy, comfortable familiarity. While they spoke, the woman kept one hand on his arm as if she didn’t want to let him go—the same arm that the night before had pulled Elise to him and held her close while she slept.

  She told herself to look away. His choice in dinner companions was absolutely none of her business, and she would do well to remember that. She was not about to spend the evening gawking at him.

  She had just started to heed her own advice and shift her attention back to her family when he suddenly happened to look straight at her. Rats. Caught. Just like in junior high when she used to moon over him in Mrs. McLarty’s algebra class.

  Something flashed in his eyes as he smiled at her. She jerked her gaze away, fumbling with her flatware and knocking her salad fork into her lap.

  “Everything okay?” Stephanie asked in an undertone.

  “Sure. Fine. Just great. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  She let out a breath. Naturally, she had a clear view of the two of them from her vantage point. If she didn’t suspect it would spark a host of questions she wasn’t in the mood to answer, Elise would have asked her mother to switch places so she didn’t have to sit and watch him. Instead, she would just have to force herself not to stare.

  There were plenty of other restaurants in town. Why did they both have to choose tonight to come to this particular one? she wondered. His presence—complete with that spectacular black eye—was certain to generate plenty more conversation among anyone who might have heard even a whisper of a rumor about the altercation the night before.

  Grant spied him at the same moment and lifted a hand. Matt returned the greeting before turning back to his companion.

  “His shiner’s looking even prettier,” Grant said just as their waiter approached with an obsequious smile.

  Grant cut him off at the pass before he could even go into his spiel welcoming them to The Gallatin Room.

  “Listen, Marcos. I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Of course, Mr. Clifton. Anything.”

  “Send a bottle of our best Cabernet Sauvignon to table seventeen, with my compliments,” he answered.

  Curiosity flashed briefly in the man’s eyes but he quickly concealed it and nodded. “Of course, sir. Right away, sir.”

  He hurried away and Elise rolled her eyes at her brother with an exasperated sigh. “Was that really necessary?”

  Grant smiled. “He protected my baby sister from a sticky situation and has the battle scars to prove it. I’d say it is.”

  Would Grant be so amused by the whole thing if he knew about the heated kiss she and Matt had shared?

  Elise snapped her napkin out onto her lap, trying not to remember the heat of his mouth and the strength of his arms and the liquid pool of desire seeping through her.

  A moment later, the sommelier delivered a bottle to Matt’s table. He acknowledged Grant’s gift with a wry smile to her brother, which Elise pretended not to notice.

  The next hour was a definite challenge. Through each course, she had to work hard not to gawk at Matt and his companion. She made a pointed effort to enjoy the delicious dinner, though each bite seemed a chore.

  Halfway through the main course, she excused herself to use the restroom, located just outside the restaurant in the main lobby area. When she emerged, she was somehow not surprised to find Matt waiting for her.

  He looked far more delicious than the roasted chicken and new potatoes she had ordered, in a cream-colored sweater that made him look dark and gorgeous in contrast.

  “How’s the head?” he asked.

  She made a face. “Better. Just be glad you didn’t ask me that a few hours ago or you would have a headache of your own after I bit yours off.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

  Why did he make her feel so safe and warm just inhabiting the same air space? It was completely ridiculous, this yearning of hers to stand here and bask in his smile.

  She suddenly remembered his companion. “Your date is lovely,” she said, working hard to ignore the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, that pinch of jealousy she had no right to feel.

  For an instant, he looked slightly taken aback, as if he’d forgotten all about the poor woman, then he nodded. “Do you know Christine Mayhew?”

  “I’m not sure we’ve met.”

  They lapsed into awkward silence. She was just about to excuse herself when he gestured toward the dining room. “You look as if you’re enjoying your dinner. How are things with your family? Better?”

  She fidgeted, embarrassed at the reminder of her emotional breakdown at his house. �
��Yes. Fine.”

  “I’ve been worried about you today.”

  Her cheeks felt hot and she cursed her fair skin that revealed every hint of embarrassment. “Don’t. I’m fine, mostly just embarrassed that I fell apart like that. I learned a hard lesson, that too much alcohol turns me into a bawl-baby. You’ll notice I’m not having anything stronger than ginger ale tonight. I really am sorry, Matt, for putting you through that and dumping all my troubles on you.”

  “I’m glad I could be there. If you, you know, need to talk or anything, you know where to find me.”

  He looked completely sincere and Elise felt a tiny little tug on her heart. “Thank you. I appreciate that. I think I’m done feeling sorry for myself for a while. I’ve even got a job. Well, sort of. Haley called and asked me to help her with the ROOTS Christmas party next week. Staying busy will help.”

  “Good. That’s great. I’ll be there, too. Marlon has demanded—I mean, asked me in no uncertain terms—that I help out at the party.”

  Apparently she wouldn’t be able to completely avoid him during the rest of her stay. She didn’t know whether to rejoice or be depressed by that.

  Elise glanced inside the dining room where the rest of her family members looked to be finishing up their meal. Stephanie was already gesturing for Marcos to take away her plate. “I should go. And you probably need to return to your date.”

  “Right.”

  He followed her gaze to the other diners, then shifted his attention back to her. He seemed strangely reluctant to leave her company, but she must be misinterpreting things. He was here with a date. A beautiful, vivacious date. Why would he want to hang around in a hallway with her when he could be sitting out there with a pretty brunette? She knew the thought shouldn’t depress her so much.

  “I guess I’ll see you around ROOTS, then,” he said.

  “Enjoy your evening,” she answered, then hurried back inside the restaurant to rejoin her family, trying hard not to wish she were the one sharing that bottle of wine with him.

  “So that’s Elise.”

  Matt returned his napkin to his lap, careful not to meet Christine’s gaze. She was entirely too perceptive. For some reason, he was hesitant to let her see the depth of his attraction for Elise. Even though he and Christine were strictly friends, showing such blatant interest in another woman seemed rude.

  “Yes. Grant’s little sister.”

  “But she’s not really, right? Grant’s sister, I mean. She’s the one who was switched at birth with Erin Castro.”

  “That doesn’t make her any less Grant’s sister,” he answered, more curtly than he intended. He couldn’t shake the memory of her anguish the night before as she had sobbed out her confusion in his arms.

  Christine raised an eyebrow but said nothing and he squirmed. Yeah. Entirely too perceptive. So much for concealing his growing feelings for Elise.

  “She’s very pretty,” Christine said after a moment. “Has she moved back to Thunder Canyon for good?”

  He was wondering that same thing. “Not sure yet.”

  She was quiet for a moment then she touched his forearm. “Whenever you want to stage a breakup, you only have to say the word. You’ve been wonderful these last few months but this arrangement of ours was never supposed to be open-ended.”

  “Why do we need to change anything?”

  She smiled. “I don’t know. Maybe because you haven’t stopped sneaking glances over at the Clifton table all night.”

  He took a sip of the delicious wine Grant had sent over to thank him for doing what any decent man would do. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

  “Why are you sorry? This isn’t a real date, Matt. You’re not breaking any unwritten rules here. I’m just saying, I’ll step out of the picture whenever you want me to.”

  He mulled her offer, not sure exactly how to respond. How was it possible that one crazy evening with Elise seemed to have changed everything?

  “What about Clay?”

  Christine shrugged. “I’ll deal. If he hasn’t gotten the message by now that I’ve moved on, the man needs serious help. I don’t know what more I can do.”

  He had thought more than once that Christine was too softhearted. From the moment she broke up with Clay Robbins, she should have been clear that she was breaking up with him because he was clingy and obsessive. Instead, she had tried to let him down gently. When that didn’t work, she had enlisted Matt’s help to convince the other man she had moved on.

  In Matt’s opinion, the man needed somebody to knock him ass over teakettle until he clued in that Christine wasn’t interested. Sort of like Jake Halloran the night before at The Hitching Post.

  They finished their dinner not long after that. A surreptitious peek at the Cliftons’ table while he was waiting for their server to return the check revealed they were lingering over dessert. He supposed it would be better to leave before they finished to avoid any awkwardness with Elise or the embarrassment of having to endure more unwanted gratitude from her family over the events of the night before.

  He and Christine walked out into the lobby of the resort, with its leather sofas and life-size elk sculpture. He grabbed her coat and was helping her into it when her shoulders suddenly tensed beneath his hands and she inhaled sharply.

  “Sorry. Did I pull your hair?” he asked, feeling big and fumbling.

  “No,” she whispered with a panicked look at a group that had just entered the lobby carrying holiday presents, obviously out for a night of festive celebrating.

  “That’s Kelly Robbins, Clay’s cousin.”

  “Which one?”

  “The one in the plaid sweater.”

  He saw exactly when the thin-as-a-rail other woman recognized Christine. Her eyes widened and jumped between the two of them, resting on his hands still at Christine’s shoulders as he finished helping her with her coat.

  “She’s the biggest gossip in the whole blasted county.”

  “Is that right?” Some spark of recklessness must still be lingering in him from the tussle the night before at The Hitching Post. Heedless of the consequences, he threw an arm over Christine’s shoulders.

  “She’s coming this way,” he muttered. “Smile. It’s about damn time Clay got the message once and for all.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Just play along,” he said. “Let’s go say hello.”

  “Matt…” Christine said in a warning tone, but before she could finish, Matt dragged her over to the group of chattering women, who happened conveniently to be located near the entrance to the valet parking, anyway.

  Christine gave a polished sort of smile. “Hi, Kelly. I thought that was you.”

  The other woman gave a high-pitched squeal, just as if she hadn’t already seen them five minutes earlier. He could already tell she was exactly the sort of woman who always grated on his nerves, plastic and gushy.

  “Christine! Hi! You look gorgeous! I haven’t seen you in ages! Not since you and Clay…well, not in forever. How are you?”

  Christine sent him a help-me sort of sidelong look as if she were waiting for his grand master plan.

  “Good. Great. Um, Kelly Robbins, this is Matt Cates. Matt, Kelly lives over in Bozeman. I used to…um, date her cousin.”

  “You’re Clay Robbins’s cousin?” he asked, forcing a note of intrigue in his voice.

  “Yes,” she said slowly with a wary sort of look.

  “How is Clay these days?” Matt asked. “I guess I should feel sorry for the poor guy but I just can’t.”

  He squeezed Christine’s shoulders, laying the cheese on as thick as he dared.

  “Why is that?” the other woman asked, her over-bright friendliness beginning to show a few hairline fractures.

  “He really did me a favor, breaking up with Christine. If things had worked out with the two of them, I wouldn’t be about to become the luckiest guy in the world.”

  He kissed her temple, lingering there with his mouth in her hai
r as if he couldn’t bear to lose contact with her, in exactly the sort of public display of affection that always gave him the creeps.

  He was probably going overboard here. Christine obviously thought so, at least judging by the heel of her boot that was currently digging into his instep.

  “You’re getting married?” Kelly squealed. She yanked Christine out of his arms and pulled her into a hug and even from here he could smell the spicy holiday-scented perfume she must have spritzed heavily before walking out the door. “When is the big day?”

  Christine slanted him a sour look over the other woman’s shoulder and Matt grinned back at her.

  He tried to dissemble as much as he could manage to get away with. “You know how it is. Nothing’s official yet. We’re, uh, still working out the details. Keep it to yourself though, okay?”

  Kelly gushed for a moment or two more. “I’m happy for you. Really I am.” She frowned as if she’d suddenly thought of something, when Matt knew damn well she’d only been trying to figure out a way to work it into the conversation. “It’s just, well, Clay’s gonna be pretty upset, you know.”

  Christine sighed and then sent Matt a swift look. “I’m sorry for that but I guess it’s time he moved on and found someone else, like I have.”

  “I s’pose,” she said.

  She looked as if she might say more but the hostess at that moment came out from The Gallatin Room to let her party know their tables were ready.

  “Congratulations again,” Kelly said. “Let me know when the big day is, won’t you?”

  “Nothing’s official,” Christine protested, with another sideways glare at him.

  “That ought to do it,” he said, dropping his arm as soon as Kelly was out of view inside the restaurant. “If Robbins doesn’t get the message after that, he’s more of an idiot than I thought.”

  Christine somehow managed to look relieved and upset at the same time. “You’re crazy, do you know that?” she said, shaking her head. “What are you going to do when the rumor starts flying around Thunder Canyon that we’re engaged?”

  “Who’s going to talk? I didn’t recognize a single one of those ladies and I know everybody in town. They must be from Bozeman. Who are they going to tell?”