Ivy shivered as a bitter breeze engulfed her. The Montana mountain wind chill factor made a mockery of her jacket’s so-called puffer-fill. She pulled her coat closed at her throat and peered through the swirling snow. She could only hope the road wouldn’t be snowed over or icy. Her city driving skills had already been tested yesterday on the drive in.
She pressed the garage remote to open the door. But she had no option but to visit Marietta for food otherwise she and Milly would have to impose on Rhett’s hospitality again. She squared her shoulders. And that wasn’t going to happen. She’d make good on her statement she was here for solitude not socializing.
The sound of a truck pulling up at her front gate was just audible over the groan of the slow-opening garage door. She swung around to see Rhett striding toward her.
“Morning.”
His grin was as white as the snowflakes dusting his coat but heated her far more than any hot water bottle could.
“Morning.”
In the corporate arena, words never failed her. But for a bizarre reason she felt tongue-tied.
“Z’s Hardware called and the supplies I need to fix the barn are in a day early so if you’d like a lift to Marietta I’m going there now.”
“Thanks.” She paused, searching for the right words to refuse him without sounding ungracious. Wind again buffeted her and she tasted snow. Visibility was deteriorating let alone the road conditions. She swallowed back her refusal. “Actually, that would be great. I’m not yet used to driving in the snow.”
He glanced at her chic red car, built for sunny city streets. “No problem. With the way this weather’s closing in, at least if we go in my truck we’ll know we’ll get there and back.”
She nodded, pressed the remote to close the garage door and followed Rhett to his black pickup. He held the passenger side door open.
She smiled her thanks as she climbed in and set about pulling her seat belt over her chest. The belt locked. She released the belt and lowered her shoulders to force herself to relax. There was no reason why being in Rhett’s company for the next hour or so would make her tense. This time when she pulled the belt, she did so gently. It still locked. She peeled off her padded black gloves to see if she could better gauge the belt’s tension.
Rhett slid into the driver’s seat as she attempted to do up the belt for a third time.
“Sorry.” He leaned toward her. “This belt’s temperamental. I keep meaning to get it looked at but I don’t usually carry passengers so it hasn’t been a priority.”
His bare fingers brushed hers as he took hold of the webbing. Her breathing stalled. She didn’t know if it was the jolt where their skin touched or the slow glide of his hand past her breasts and down her side as he guided the belt into place that electrified her nerves.
She risked a look at his face to see if he too felt the awareness arc between them, but apart from faint color across his cheekbones his expression appeared nonplussed.
“There you go,” he said, as he started the truck engine. “Sit back, relax and enjoy your chauffeur-driven ride to town.”
*
To Ivy’s surprise she did exactly that. The warmth of the truck and the exhaustion that continued to drag at her bones caused her to sit unnaturally still. Rhett had turned on the radio and the soft country music reassured her she didn’t have to make small talk. Her fingers laced in her lap, she sat deep in the passenger seat and admired the picture-perfect winter landscape through which they travelled. Every now and then Rhett would point out a mountain landmark and then concentrate on the snowy road.
The welcome to Marietta sign flashed past and they soon drove down the near-deserted Main Street. Small town Marietta lived up to its name. Locals ambled along bare sidewalks. Car parks stood empty in front of stores and at the stoplight a traffic jam consisted of two vehicles. She soaked up the peace. No horns blasted, no voices shouted and no sirens wailed.
She smiled as they passed a store festooned with garlands, festive lights and that sported a mini Christmas tree above the awning. She hadn’t been within the town limits for ten minutes and Marietta felt like her type of community.
“The town has a Christmas Stroll on next week and the stores are all getting ready,” Rhett said, his eyes on her mouth.
“It looks fabulous. I love Christmas decorations.”
He grinned. “In that case you’ve come to the right place to spend Christmas.”
She stared through the truck window at a granite peak whose uppermost tip was shrouded in cloud. From Henry’s description of Marietta she knew this was Copper Mountain. Dressed in the pristine-white of winter, the mountain stood stoic and serene. Her gaze lingered and her throat ached. Her great-grandparents would have travelled down this same street in a wagon and looked at Copper Mountain too. Her grandfather would have run his town errands and all while Copper Mountain would have kept a similar watch over him as it now did to her.
Rhett stopped in front of a store with a wide nativity-themed window display.
“This is Marietta Feed and Supply and you’ll be able to purchase both pet and veterinary supplies for Milly. How about I get what I need from Z’s Hardware and pick you up in half an hour?”
“Perfect. Thanks.”
She unclipped the seat belt. Her cheeks warmed as the action reminded her of Rhett’s earlier help and her body’s instant reaction. She wouldn’t be getting back into his truck in a hurry and when she did she’d be mastering the temperamental seatbelt. She didn’t want another reason to get up close and personal with him again.
Ivy only needed fifteen minutes to cross off every item on the list she’d compiled for Milly. She then texted Rhett that she would meet him at the Marietta Western Wear store she’d seen when they’d driven down Main Street.
She headed back to the main thoroughfare and as she crossed Second Street the smell of freshly baked gingerbread caused her steps to quicken. Somehow she’d missed seeing the sign for the Copper Mountain Gingerbread and Dessert Factory.
She dawdled beside the store window and gazed in at the cabinets filled with all the contraband her city life had lacked. Brownies. Cookies. Tortes. She’d learned the hard way the fewer curves a woman had the less she would be accused of using how she looked to get ahead and the more she’d be taken seriously. At least here in Montana it didn’t matter how curvy she grew.
She continued walking. Soon her kitchen too would smell of gingerbread. She mightn’t have her grandmother to cook with but that didn’t mean she couldn’t create the scents and tastes that were woven through her memories like precious silken threads.
In the western wear store she found thick-soled boots and a red woman’s ranchers’ coat. She kept the woolen coat on and snuggled into its warmth as she left the store. Rhett was parked outside. She slipped into her seat and quickly tackled the seat belt before he could help. She was never so glad to hear the click of metal as the buckle slid into place. And judging by the release of tension in Rhett’s bunched jaw, perhaps he felt as relieved.
Their last stop was the grocery store on the outskirts of town. Working quickly she filled two grocery carts, one solely containing baking supplies. In contrast Rhett filled half a cart.
“Did you buy the whole store?” he asked her with a crooked grin as he loaded her sacks into the now full pickup.
She matched his grin. “Almost. Milly and I have a ton of eating and baking to do.”
Snug in her new coat, and lulled by the soft strains of the radio, Ivy slept the drive home. The sound of Rhett pulling on the parking brake woke her. He helped her carry the mountain of grocery sacks inside.
“Thanks,” she said as he set the final sack on the laden bench. “I’ll won’t need to go to town again for weeks.”
“No worries. Have fun baking up a storm.” He bent to tickle Milly’s stomach as the sleepy pup rolled onto her back beside his boot. His eyes briefly met Ivy’s. “I’ll be seeing you.”
She nodded even though she knew that, ba
rring a power outage, the likelihood of her doing so was as probable as snow falling in a Montana summer. She had her groceries and was now ready to hole herself up inside her grandfather’s childhood home and heal.
The front door clicked shut behind Rhett and she set about unpacking the closest sack. She frowned at the packet of green, red and white sprinkles she held and which there were three more of in the sack. Perhaps she’d gotten a little carried away. She’d soon have enough baked goods to supply the Marietta elementary school plus keep her, Trinity and Henry in sugar cookies until next Christmas.
She bit the inside of her cheek and glanced at the doorway Rhett’s broad shoulders had disappeared through. Sure she needed to be alone but Trinity had reassured her Rhett was a decent guy who wouldn’t be looking to start anything with her. Henry had also vouched for his integrity. Then Rhett had also gone out of his way to help and make sure she and Milly were okay. Even if his touch triggered sensations she shouldn’t feel, her conscience told her she did need to reciprocate his kindness. She removed the other sprinkle packets from the sack. What harm could taking him a regular supply of Christmas treats cause?
*
The smell of gingerbread let Rhett know his next door Christmas angel had paid him another visit. He kicked off his books in the mudroom and sure enough, when he walked into the kitchen, on the table rested a large container of gingerbread. And it wasn’t only Christmas treats Ivy delivered. An extra red ball hung from the rod above his kitchen window. She’d already hung a small felt candy cane and tiny wreath on her previous visits.
He rubbed a hand around the base of his stiff neck. This was Ivy’s third gift-bearing trip and he was yet to see her to say thank you. Sure he’d been busy repairing the barn but that was no excuse for his bad manners or for letting three days pass.
He withheld a sigh, snapped open the container lid and took out the top star-shaped gingerbread. Upon hearing the clip of Rusty’s nails on the floor he broke the gingerbread into two.
“We can’t get used to this, Rusty. Ivy is here to cook and to lay low and then you and I will be back to eating store-bought snacks that taste like cardboard.”
He shared the sweet gingerbread with a tail-wagging Rusty before retracing his steps to the mudroom. He was going to see Ivy now. Before he got busy again. He swallowed as he buttoned his sheepskin coat. And before he lost his nerve.
He stepped outside into the mid-morning chill. Fresh snow had fallen overnight and dusted the ranch landscape in white. The scene reminded him of the sugar-powdered gingerbread brownie that had been Ivy’s first delivery. His feet dragged as he headed toward the main ranch house.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know the real reason behind finding any excuse not to see Ivy. Even if he did have a neighborly and family obligation to check in on her, after their trip to Marietta his self-preservation had hit the panic button. It was official. He was distracted.
The hours he lay awake thinking about her and the time he wasted stopping work in the barn to peer through the door to catch a distant glimpse of her, diluted his focus. It was as though she was already an addiction and to beat it he had to go cold turkey.
When he’d helped fasten her seat belt, he was sure she would have heard the grinding of his teeth as he’d fought for control. His brushing of her hand hadn’t been intentional, but tell that to his testosterone. The charge from their brief touch still ricocheted through his senses. All he could do now was to implement damage control. He would honor his obligations and do the right thing but keep all contact to the bare minimum.
Snow crunched underfoot as he walked to the front door but the only sound he registered was the pounding of his heart. Even when balanced on 2000 pounds of rodeo bull, he’d never felt so nervous. He’d thank Ivy for her Christmas deliveries, see if she needed anything and hightail it to the barn.
He knocked on the door and jammed his hands into his jacket pockets. No footsteps sounded in the foyer. He braced himself and knocked again. This time he heard steps followed by a thump. He turned the handle.
The door flew open but it wasn’t Ivy on the other side. Instead a tiny white and tan body pushed past his boots, a length of red tinsel hanging from the pup’s mouth. He just managed to catch Milly before she reached the top porch step.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said as she let go of the tinsel, which fell into the snow, and attempted to bite the wool on his sheepskin coat collar. He tucked the puppy under his arm, well away from the soft fleece.
“I told you she’d like your coat,” Ivy said from the doorway her hands on her hips and her chest beneath her long grey sweater rising and falling. She drew a deep breath. “I need to get fitter so she can’t outrun me.”
He nodded as he drank her in. Unfit was the last term he’d use to describe the woman in front of him. Tousled hair fell around her flushed face calling for him to run his hands through the silken strands. Her thick-lashed hazel eyes sparkled with laughter. And while her oversized sweater hem reached her denim-clad thighs, the knitted fabric was fitted enough to reveal her curves.
His self-preservation had a meltdown.
She moved away from the doorway. “Coming in?’
He handed her first the tinsel and then Milly so the pup wouldn’t have a chance to latch onto the red garland. “No, I’d better not. I want to split some firewood before lunch. Speaking of which how are you going for wood?”
“Good thanks. I still have plenty left from the load you brought over the other night.”
Milly wriggled in her grasp, aiming for the tinsel and Ivy hung the decoration over her forearm to keep it out of reach.
He passed a hand over his whiskered chin. “Before I go, I wanted to say thank you for all the gingerbread and cookies. I’m sorry I haven’t called around earlier.”
“You’re welcome. After all the help you’ve given me it’s the least I can do. And seriously please don’t feel you need to come and say thanks. I know how busy you are.”
“Thanks. I do have lots to do if I want to be ready by spring for when my cattle arrive.” If he’d been wearing his Stetson he would have removed the hat and would be turning it in his hands. Now was the moment he should step back and let Ivy close the door. But it was as though the soles of his boots were super-glued to the porch floor. Once so reluctant to visit her, he now couldn’t bring himself to leave. “I did also want to say make sure you let me know if there’s anything you need … like more wood.”
She nodded and glanced at the sky behind him. “It so happens I do need some help. How about you come in out of the cold and I’ll show you what I need done?”
His feet moved forward even before his mind gave the okay. “No worries.”
Still holding a wriggling Milly, Ivy closed the wooden door behind him. She then set Milly on the floor. The pup jumped, sank her teeth into the tinsel hanging from Ivy’s arm, and ran out of the foyer, the tinsel streaming behind her.
“I give up,” Ivy said, amusement threading her words.
He nodded, kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his jacket. Christmas decorations more than compensated for Ivy’s lack of furniture. She’d hung mistletoe in the foyer and further inside wreaths adorned windows and ornaments hung from door and cupboard handles. In a short space of time, she’d made an empty space feel lived in and loved.
He followed her into the kitchen and stopped to touch a gold reindeer that graced the bench. It was only right for her grandfather’s home to be in Ivy’s hands. At the last minute he’d decided against buying both the main ranch house and the land. Even with his rodeo winnings and the money from his mother’s estate, he would have been saddled with a bank debt that would have stolen his sleep. And now, seeing how much this house meant to Ivy, he was thankful he’d been risk averse.
He glanced at her and realized she’d been watching him as he stared at the reindeer.
“How are you at hanging ornaments?” she asked.
“I can’t say I’m an expert but
I can tie a mean half hitchknot.”
At her blank look, he smiled. “In a rodeo you tie a half hitchknot to keep a calf’s three legs together for six seconds.”
She laughed. “So tying a ribbon onto a light fixture won’t be a problem?”
“Not at all.”
Her smile widened. “Even if there are twenty-one ornaments and curling ribbon is involved?”
He kinked a brow. “The curling ribbon might be a problem. I’ve two sisters, plus I come from three generations of women with no male children except me. I’ve never had to wrap a present in my life.”
“Well, when you’re done hanging the decorations I can guarantee you’ll be a ribbon tying expert.”
She moved into the kitchen and dug into a box on the bench. She held up a shiny silver ball in which he could see his reflection. Attached to the ball was a long curl of metallic red ribbon.
“I’ve tried, and even standing on a chair, I can’t reach the light let alone tie any fancy half hitchknot.”
He dragged one of the two wooden kitchen chairs to beneath the light.
She passed him the silver ball as he climbed onto the chair. He reached up and easily tied the ribbon around the metal arm of the light fixture. Once he’d attached seven balls to the light he surveyed his handiwork. Red, silver and green balls all dangled at varying lengths, the curling ribbon falling gracefully around them.
“Not bad, if I do say so myself.” He stepped off the chair. “Right, two more lights to go?”
“Yes.”
He shot her a quick look when her affirmation sounded breathless. Her cheeks were also a pretty pink. He shrugged out of his sheepskin coat. Ivy wasn’t the only one flushed by the heat. The house was much warmer than his cabin and he’d soon overheat. He draped his coat beside the reindeer on the bench.
They moved into the living room where a cheerful fire blazed in the stone-worked fireplace. He stood the kitchen chair below the light and climbed onto the sturdy wood. Lips pressed together, Ivy passed him a gold ball.
Her Mistletoe Cowboy Page 4