She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, trying to see her flaws. Oh, she had them—a lot of them—but she couldn’t understand why everyone around her seemed to be able to find someone to love and she couldn’t.
“No more dating anyone from the ranch,” she told her reflection.
Sure, she’d been on some fun dates with some nice guys. But she hadn’t made it past the third date in over a year. There had to be something wrong with her, but looking at her brown eyes and highlighted brown hair, she couldn’t see it.
So, like she’d done dozens of times before, she returned to the kitchen to drown out the memories of her terrible date in ooey gooey chocolate.
The timer beeped once as she came out of her bedroom—the signal that it had been going off for a while. Her adrenaline spiked. How long had she been staring at herself in the mirror?
Thin, white smoke issued from the vents at the rear of the oven. She hurried into the kitchen, grabbed the oven mitts from the drawer, and yanked open the door.
Smoke and heat and vapor smacked her in the face. She cringed and pulled back, her stomach rioting over the loss of the cookies.
She’d barely slammed the ruined sheet of what was going to be her saving grace for the night on the stovetop when someone opened her front door.
Panic poured through her in waves, and she lifted her still oven-mitted hands like she could ward off any attack with them.
“Sandy?” a man asked.
Through the haze, Sandy made out the tall form of her brother, Hank. Relief made her sag against the peninsula. Just as quickly, she straightened and marched into the living room. “What are you doing here?”
Hank lifted his duffle bag. “We’re here for the holidays.” He peered at her, something he had to do to actually see her through the smoke hanging in the air. “Did you forget Ma was gettin’ new floors done this week?” He gestured to someone standing behind him. “You said me and Tad could stay here.”
Sandy tried to see her brother’s best friend from college, but he lingered directly behind Hank. “I did say that.” She stepped back. “Come on in. I haven’t gotten the beds made up yet. Weren’t you coming tomorrow?”
“Willow’s coming in tomorrow.”
Of course. Willow, Hank’s bubbly, blonde girlfriend. Well, fiancé now that he’d asked her to marry him. Sandy’s only comfort all these years had been that Hank hadn’t been able to get married either. She hadn’t been the only disappointment to her mother. But come June, she would be.
Hank stepped into the living room, finally revealing Tad. He flashed a mega-watt grin that made Sandy’s heart go flippety-flop and stepped forward. “Sandy, it’s so good to see you again.”
She stared at his outstretched hand, not quite sure if she trusted herself to shake it. Seconds stretched into awkwardness, which Hank broke by saying, “Don’t you own the pancake house now? How is it possible for you to burn cookies?”
Embarrassment flooded Sandy’s cheeks, along with a healthy dose of heat. She turned away from Tad’s tall frame, his intoxicating dark eyes, which still watched her, his windswept, dark chocolate-colored hair. She’d met him a few times in the past, only for a couple of minutes. But now he screamed available! even though she’d just sworn off dating.
You just swore off dating anyone living at the ranch, she amended as she went to open the windows in the dining room. And Tad doesn’t live out at the ranch.
She gave herself a mental shake, a stern reminder not to be ridiculous. Tad was going to be here for ten days, not forever. And Sandy, owner of the steady and successful pancake house, was a lifetime resident of Three Rivers. The thought had never felt like such a life sentence.
Tad Jorgensen watched Sandy Keller—his best friend’s little sister—slink into the dining room to open windows. He’d left the front door open, but not because he’d thought it would help clear out the gauzy smoke. But because Sandy’s beauty had struck him full in the chest, rendering him slow of thought. It had been a miracle he’d managed to say hello and offer his hand to her.
She hadn’t taken it, and now he focused on his fingers, thinking them covered with slime or something.
Sandy’s light laugh brought Tad out of his trance. His pulse quickened when she glanced his way, and he needed to pull himself together. Fast. He’d come up with a plausible reason he could go home for Christmas with Hank this year when he’d never been able to before. Mandatory vacation.
Helicopter pilots rarely got vacation, especially in the tourist industry where Tad worked. Used to work, he thought as he watched Sandy and Hank banter in the kitchen. His fingers itched to touch her silky pajamas, and he reined in his thoughts.
She’s your best friend’s sister, he told himself. And you’re unemployed.
Even if she had burnt the cookies, she wouldn’t be interested in a helicopter pilot who was afraid to fly.
Bitterness, now becoming more and more familiar as the weeks passed, coated his throat. He had been asked to take a mandatory vacation over the holidays—usually the busiest time of the year—but it wasn’t because he’d stored up too many days.
He forced his mind somewhere—anywhere—else, and the traitorous thing landed back on Sandy.
“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Hank said when Tad’s brain started working again. “That’s why I opened the door without knocking.”
“Why wouldn’t I be here?” Sandy sat at her bar, her back to Tad, but he heard the false note in her voice.
“You said you had a date.” Hank pinned her with an older brother look that said Well, why aren’t you out?
Sandy’s shoulders fell, and her chin dipped for half a beat. It could’ve been Tad’s imagination, but he swore she angled her face in his direction when she said, “I’m not really into dating right now. I have the pancake house to whip into shape and….” He let her sentence hang there, and Tad wasn’t sure if she didn’t know how to finish it or just didn’t want to in mixed company.
Hank frowned, his confusion evident. “I thought you liked—”
“Hank,” she warned. “So, which of you wants my office?” She stood and faced Tad fully. Again, the subtle strength in her face, the set of her shoulders hit Tad in a way it never had before. An edge of sadness also rode in her expression, barely noticeable. In fact, Tad wondered if anyone else would be able to see it. Or if he could because the same vein of despair had been lingering with him since the beginning of November, when he’d barely made it back to the rim of the Grand Canyon.
In many ways, he was still out there. Still lost in the wilderness. Still radioing for help.
His clients hadn’t filed any complaints. Their version of what had happened painted him in a complimentary light. But everything about Tad’s confidence had been shattered. He’d thought he understood his helicopter; he’d been flying over the Grand Canyon for years. But nothing had prepared him and no experience could’ve helped him during that fateful flight.
“Tad?” Sandy stood in front of him now, but he hadn’t seen her move.
“I’ll take the office,” Tad said. “Sure.” He glanced left and right, seeing only one door to the right of the kitchen. That would be her room. On the left, an arched doorway revealed a hall branching in both directions, with a closed door at the junction. He stepped that way.
“I can set up my own bed. Or sleep on the couch. The floor. Whatever.” He didn’t want to add to Sandy’s load. She looked and sounded a bit worn down.
His attention came back to her when she said, “Let me clean up in there first,” with a tremor of trepidation in her tone.
He paused upon entering the hall. Her office obviously existed to his right, but he didn’t want to enter it unless she approved. “Sure. Is this the bathroom?”
“Yeah.” Sandy squeezed behind him and entered the office. “I’ll just be a minute.” She closed the door, that panicked edge in her eye kicking Tad’s pulse into a new gear.
He turned away, frustrated with himself. He
could not be attracted to Hank’s little sister, even if she was twenty-seven years old. Tad joined Hank in the kitchen, where he stood at the sink, staring out the window.
“Three Rivers,” he said, though darkness had fallen an hour ago and not much could be seen.
“So much sky,” Hank added, and Tad appreciated being able to see something in a way Las Vegas had never allowed. He could see the stars without straining. Coming into town, Tad had felt the smallness of it, and something about it sang to his soul.
He hadn’t told anyone about the flight that had almost ended his life, and had definitely stalled his career.
“So what’s here?” he asked Hank.
Hank shrugged and turned away from the window. “Small town stuff.” He spoke as if small towns had nothing to offer. But Tad craved the tranquility and peace of a place like Three Rivers. Somewhere where no one knew him, no one thought of him as a helicopter pilot, no one assumed anything about him.
Stay, he thought, and the feeling spread through him slowly, like honey dripping from the hive. Tad closed his eyes and drank in the peace emanating from the very air in Three Rivers.
He was going to stay—and not just for the ten days with Hank. But for good.
His decision made, and approved of by the Lord, Tad couldn’t wait to spend some time alone. Because now he needed to figure out what he could do in Three Rivers to make a living.
Sandy opened the bottom drawer in her desk and shoved in anything that would fit inside. The computer and desk dominated the room, but she’d also put in a deluxe sleeper sofa that would accommodate Tad’s height just fine. She just didn’t want him to see the mess she worked in. She’d been planning to clean her office before the New Year, but owning and figuring out and running the pancake house took a lot of her time.
In short, she needed a vacation. She fired off a text to Gail, her front-of-the-house manager, asking her if she could manage the pancake house alone the following day. Sandy had unfolded the couch and set the air pump to blow up the airbed before she got a response.
Definitely, Gail said. It’ll be slow until the New Year’s Eve pancake fundraiser. Take all the time off you want.
Every muscle in Sandy’s body sighed. She wanted to take off the next eight days until New Year’s Eve, but she knew she wouldn’t. But she would sleep in tomorrow, and go to lunch with her brother, and welcome Willow, and eat dinner with her family. The thoughts comforted her, brought a smile to her face where one hadn’t been in a while.
With the natural disaster that had been her desk contained, and the bed ready, she stepped into the hall to get sheets. She couldn’t see Tad, but his presence filled her condo. And it called to her.
Confused, she opened the linen closet and collected the things she needed. She’d flapped the fitted sheet once when Tad said, “I’ll help you.”
The hair on the back of her neck stood at attention as he moved behind her and around to the other side of the bed.
“Thanks for letting us stay here,” he said, taking one corner of the sheet.
“Sure, yeah.” Sandy wanted to pull the words back into her throat. “You still flying?” She tugged her corner over the edge of the mattress and glanced at him.
He’d frozen completely, his gaze that same faraway, here-but-not-here, look she’d seen in the living room several minutes ago. Sandy had seen this look before, usually on the face of Pete Marshall or Reece Sanders. Men who had seen horrific things and somehow survived. But Tad hadn’t served in the military.
Sandy sidestepped down to the other corner, glad when Tad moved with her.
“I’m….” He exhaled as he pulled on his end of the sheet. “Yeah. Still flying.”
She detected something strange in his voice and glanced up. His gorgeous eyes hooked hers. She sank into them even though she commanded herself not to. The air in the room turned charged and something sparked between her and Tad in a way it never had before.
She imagined climbing into his helicopter with him and just flying. Flying anywhere but here. Flying fast and furious until they ran out of fuel and had to land. And wherever that was would be amazing, because it wasn’t here.
Startled by the depth of her fantasy, Sandy blinked and reminded herself of her reality. Sure, she could take a few days off work. She would. Maybe she’d be able to find her center. Re-start her passion for the restaurant business. Rejuvenate herself for another year of solitude.
Tad tossed the flat sheet onto the bed, and Sandy used the distraction to force herself to focus on the situation in front of her. She couldn’t afford to let herself slip into daydreams and self-depreciating thoughts. Hank rivaled her mother in his detective skills, and he’d know something was bothering Sandy before bedtime.
“Fly anywhere fun recently?” she asked.
“Just the Grand Canyon.”
Sandy grabbed the pillows and placed them on the bed. She reached for the quilt and together, she and Tad finished making the bed.
“Thanks,” she said. “You still live in Vegas?”
He dropped to the bed and studied the floor. “Yep.”
Sandy suddenly found the conversation too one-sided. He hadn’t asked her a single question, and he didn’t seem terribly forthcoming about his answers. “Okay.” She took a step backward. “I’m going to make sure Hank’s room is ready, and then I’m going to try those cookies again. You’re welcome anywhere.”
He lifted his hand as she left and went in the guest room opposite of his. This room held a queen bed, already made up for guests. Sandy didn’t have anyone stay very often, but everything here was clean and ready. She returned to the living room to tell Hank and found him fast asleep in the recliner.
He had come from a different time zone, but eight-thirty was early for bed no matter what. Sandy admired her brother, her heart full at his presence. She lifted his duffle and placed it inside the guest room before heading into the kitchen to recreate the chocolatey treat she desperately needed.
Help me get them right this time, she prayed as she whipped butter and brown sugar. God surely didn’t care how her cookies turned out, but Sandy recalled the thought. Pastor Scott had said that God was interested in their lives, even the little things. That He wanted us to be happy and to pray for what was important—even if that was a batch of cookies.
Sandy calmed as she added eggs and vanilla, then flour, oats and baking soda, and finally the chocolate chips. She sat at her dining room table while they baked, her thumbs firing off texts to Gail and a couple other key members of her staff.
“Can I join you?”
Sandy startled, though Tad’s voice vibrated gently against her eardrums.
“Sure, of course.” She placed her phone face-down on the table so she could give him her full attention.
Don’t ask him another question, she coached herself. Do not ask him anything.
But he didn’t speak, and the clicking of her oven and Hank’s steady breathing almost drove her mad.
Just when Sandy was about to blurt the first thing that came to her mind, Tad said, “So I was looking at something on my phone.” He tilted it toward her. “What’s this Bowman’s Champion Breeds?”
Being a small town, having someone new in town piqued everyone’s interest. And Brynn Bowman, a world champion barrel racer, had caused quite the stir when she’d moved to Three Rivers over the summer.
“It’s a horse-training facility,” Sandy said. “Brynn Bowman is a champion barrel racer. She’s going to be training champion horses for the rodeo.”
“This says they’re gearing up to open.”
“Yeah, that’s probably right.” Sandy didn’t want to pry, but she didn’t understand why Tad cared about a horse-training facility out on the ranch. He was about as far from a cowboy as a man could get—and her attraction to him ratcheted up another notch because of it.
Tad cocked his head and stared at her. “You working tomorrow?”
She squinted at him. “I was actually planning to tak
e the day off.”
That delicious grin spread his lips, causing her to focus on his mouth. Her fantasies ran wild, all of them ending with a kiss with Tad.
“Maybe you can take me out to the ranch to see this place.” He glanced at his phone and back to her. “I want to check it out.”
Sandy’s heart settled like a stone. The last thing she wanted to do was return to Three Rivers Ranch, especially after tonight’s disaster. Never going there again sounded like a better idea.
“Really?” she asked. “What do you think you’re going to do at a place like that? What if it’s not even open?”
“I just want to check it out,” Tad said, his voice that false airy type that Sandy had heard a lot of people use when they were lying. “I’m sure there’s an office or something, at least.”
“You don’t seem like the cowboy type,” she said, pushing the issue.
“I don’t?” He lifted his eyebrows before smiling. “Yeah, I guess not. Maybe Hank will let me borrow one of his old hats.”
“I’ve got a couple,” Sandy said, pushing her chair back.
“You’ve got a couple of men’s cowboy hats?”
Sandy froze, halfway turned toward the front entrance closet. What could she tell him? That yes, she had a couple of men’s cowboy hats because she’d purchased them for gifts and then the guy had broken up with her? That she was too busy serving coffee and pancakes to return them?
She might as well outline how pathetic she was.
Thankfully, the timer went off on the oven, signaling the cookies were done. She turned that way instead, and forced a giggle through stiff lips. “Oh, right. Mine are for ladies.” She pulled the cookies out of the oven, the desire to eat the dozen by herself raging within her.
“So, will you take me out there tomorrow? Willow is coming in, and I’m sure Hank will want to be here to introduce her to your parents.”
“I’m sure,” Sandy murmured as she finished moving the cookies from the sheet pan to the cooling rack. “And why not? I’ll take you out to the ranch tomorrow.” She twisted and jabbed the spatula toward him. “But I’m sleeping in.”
Christmas in Three Rivers: Three Rivers Ranch Romance Novella Collection Page 7