Christmas in Winter Valley Page 7

  “You’re always welcome in my kitchen for coffee, but I don’t want to see you if you’re not sober, Tye. You understand that. I’ve got a few scars from trying to reason with a drunk, and I don’t plan to repeat any part of that history.”

  “I understand. You’re a good woman, Dani.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “The man who walked out on you was a fool, and any man, drunk or sober, who’d hit a woman isn’t worth knowing.”

  Something inside Dani cracked open. A part of her had always blamed herself that the man she’d married hadn’t loved her enough not to hit her. She’d been nineteen when she’d left home and had hidden the marks her husband left when she’d come back. He’d told her every problem was her fault.

  She fought back tears, remembering how he’d yelled at her. He’d called her his bad-luck charm and laughed when she’d cried.

  Tye put a knuckle beneath her chin and tipped up her head so she could see his eyes. “It wasn’t your fault,” he persisted.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against the warmth of this man. For a while they just stood there, so close she could feel his breath. Then she kissed him.

  For a moment, Tye didn’t react. When he did, the kiss turned real, and wasn’t just a friendly exchange. He held her tight and lifted her off the ground. This wasn’t a flirtation but a need. Two lonely people wanting to feel something besides hollowness.

  When he finally lowered her to the floor, he just smiled.

  “I don’t want to talk,” she whispered. “I don’t want to figure out what just happened. All I have to say is...don’t leave tonight.”

  He slid his hand gently down her arm and took her hand. Then, knowing just what she wanted, she led him to her room behind the kitchen.

  In her mind she wondered what he was thinking. Wondered if this was right. Wondered if she’d be sorry at dawn.

  But tonight, a lifetime of loneliness won out over what was proper.

  They didn’t say a word. They didn’t bother to turn on a light.

  She sat on the bed. He knelt and tugged off her boots, then kicked off his own. Then they were lying side by side atop a quilt her grandmother had made fifty years ago. He lifted his arm and she rolled close. They simply held on to each other for a long while.

  Finally, he kissed her more gently than any man had ever kissed her. Both knew they were turning down an untraveled road. Having an adventure. Changing their lives, if only by adding one memory.

  When he moved his hand beneath her shirt, he whispered, “I like the way you feel, Danielle. It takes a strong woman to do all you’ve done, but there is a softness to you that I sense.”

  His fingers brushed just below her bra and hesitated.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered. She felt suddenly young and shy and hungry for life.

  “Which one, the touching or the talking?” he asked with laughter in his tone. “I want to get this right.”

  “The touching. We’ve talked enough.”

  He nodded in agreement and continued with the touching.

  Silently, each knew they were feeling alive for the first time in a long while. She’d seen that his hands were scarred and rough, but they slid over her like silk. She knew she wasn’t beautiful, but the way he touched her made her believe she was to him. She’d had passion a few times and sex she didn’t want more than once, but she’d never had caring. He touched her as if she was a rare treasure.

  Gentle on the eyes whispered through her mind like a melody. It might not be beauty, but it was enough.

  Long after midnight, when he kissed her one last time at the back door, she whispered, “I’ll put an extra biscuit on your plate at breakfast as an invitation to come back some night when I know the house will be quiet.”

  His hair was wild, making him seem younger, and his voice was low and rusty. “I hope to be fat by the New Year.”

  They were both laughing as he disappeared into the night.

  CHAPTER TEN

  December 17

  Long before dawn

  Maverick Ranch

  ELLIOT FELL ASLEEP at his desk sometime after 2:00 a.m. He felt like he’d been playing catch-up with his work every night since Sunlan’s cousins arrived. The trip to Lubbock should have taken two or three hours, with most of that driving time. But the cousins had decided to restaurant-hop. Drinks at one place near the Texas Tech campus, dinner out near the mall and dessert at an ice-cream shop just off Quaker. Halfway through the evening he’d given up trying to be part of the conversation, and in truth he didn’t think any of the women noticed.

  He knew how Cooper must have felt in Fort Worth. His brother had said he was just along as a driver and to carry the luggage. Elliot now understood why Cooper had run for the hills the minute he heard they were coming. He’d been planning the trip up to Winter Valley for a week, but the Uber van turning off the county road had made him panic. They’d be lucky to see him by Christmas. His little brother would want to make sure the house had settled after the cousins’ visit. If they hung around much longer it might take weeks for the echoes of giggling and squeals to still.

  As soon as Elliot had driven the girls back to the ranch after the longest dinner out he’d ever lived through, they’d vanished upstairs, along with two bottles of wine, and he’d sat down to work. With both his brothers gone, he felt like he was working three eight-hour shifts a day. At least it was Sunday, the only day the ranch worked a light crew, and most slept in.

  But Elliot needed to work. Somehow, he had to catch up before the end of the year. He opened the window beside his desk, hoping the cold air would keep him awake.

  At dawn, he stumbled to the coffeepot by the front windows in his office and pushed the button. Dani always made sure the pot was ready to run. Five minutes later he was downing his first cup and watching the sun rise.

  These few early, quiet minutes were his favorite time of the day. Before worries flooded over him, he simply relaxed and counted himself lucky to look at such a beautiful view.

  On a whim, he pulled out his cell phone and looked at Jessica Brantley’s number. Her picture flashed on the screen, and he smiled. She hadn’t wanted him to snap the shot of her that day—almost a decade ago now. It had been her first and only visit to the ranch. They’d just announced their engagement, and none of his family seemed happy about it. They were too young. Still in school. Life was full of what-ifs. But Elliot didn’t care. They thought they were forever in love. She’d be beside him until death parted them, and he’d never stop loving her, so they might as well make it official.

  Only forever didn’t last long for her. When he’d told her he had to leave school six months later, she’d refused to go with him. She didn’t see why he was dropping out to help his brothers run the ranch. It wasn’t a good enough reason to derail the life they’d planned. Elliot could have gone home on weekends to help. That was enough. His brothers could just hang on, then after he’d graduated, Elliot could go back home for a while.

  As he’d packed, they were taking turns. First arguing, then not speaking. As he drove away, she’d stood silent on the steps of their apartment, her arms folded.

  After he’d left, it took her a month to calm down. They talked over the phone. The engagement wasn’t broken, just postponed. They’d still marry, only now it would be after she finished school, then after she had a free summer of traveling and finally after she got settled in a job. She’d promised she’d take some time off once she qualified for vacation, and they’d start over on planning the wedding and their life together.

  But the starting-over part never happened.

  At first, he’d called her every night, but she’d had excuses about having to study, then having work to do that she’d brought home from the office. She cut short their talks more often than not until he started calling once a week, then once a month, then never.

  Th
e second visit to the ranch to make plans never happened. She didn’t want to talk about it and if Elliot pushed, she’d say she had to get up early or was going out with friends or simply couldn’t talk now.

  Two years after the picture on his phone had been taken, she was out of his life. Or, more accurately, he’d walked out of hers. He was needed at home, and she’d said she wouldn’t wait forever. All the while he’d been waiting for her to come to him and she’d been waiting for him to care enough to come back to her. When he hadn’t, she’d left to study international law in England.

  He’d never forget her last words all those years ago. “See you,” she’d said, as if they might be days or a few weeks apart. Then the phone had gone dead.

  Elliot downed his coffee and, just for the hell of it, pressed her number. He’d done it before, probably a hundred times. No one ever answered, but in a small way he felt like he was still trying to reach out.

  Somehow the number was still live, but no answering machine clicked on. It just rang and rang until an automated voice announced her message box was full.

  If she was on the other end looking at the caller ID, she didn’t want to talk to him. And, after all, that was all he needed to know.

  Elliot flipped back to her picture. “Still mad, Jess?” he said aloud as he leaned back in his chair and remembered how it had been between them. People used to say that he grounded her and she woke him up to life.

  They’d almost been the perfect couple. Almost. Was she flying high without him? Who knew, maybe he was dead without her and didn’t even realize it.

  He pulled back his mind from the past as he heard footsteps in the hallway. Pat, pat, stumble, pat.

  The redheaded cousin walked in, leaning sideways as if the room had shifted overnight. “Elliot,” she whined.

  “How can I help you, Dallas?”

  She scratched her flaming-tumbleweed hair. “I think I have an overhang.”

  He stood and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Dani, our cook, will fix you up. She told me, thanks to her two sons, she’s become an expert at hangovers, or in your case, overhangs.”

  “The cook is up? It’s not even daylight.”

  As they passed the foyer, he grabbed one of Cooper’s sweatshirts and helped her put it on. “Now you’ll be warm,” he said, wanting to add that she’d also be out of the R-rated category now that her nightgown was covered up.

  He walked her to the kitchen. The tall drunk looked startled to see Dani rolling out biscuits.

  The cook took one look at them as Elliot sat the redhead down. “I’ve got it, boss. We’ll start with coffee.”

  Elliot thought of running back to his office, then reminded himself he had to play host.

  Dallas was on her second cup of coffee as she waited for the cure. The kitchen door opened, letting in blowing snow. She complained to Elliot as she pulled her long legs up under Cooper’s big sweatshirt.

  As usual, Creed showed up for breakfast early; the guy didn’t seem to believe in weekends. He hesitated when he saw one of the cousins at the kitchen table. His frown showed what he’d never say: guests belonged in the dining room, not here at the round table.

  Dallas waved her hand as if shooing away a bee. “Just pretend I’m not here, Mr. Creed.”

  Elliot fought down a laugh. Dallas would never be a woman people didn’t notice, even with her makeup gone and her hair crazy.

  Creed slowly sat down across from her and stared as Dani brought the woman a tray with three glasses lined up. Pear juice, ice-cold. Water with two Alka-Seltzers bubbling in it. And hot ginger tea.

  “Start on these three, dear,” Dani ordered. “I’ll bring you toast as soon as it’s burnt.”

  Elliot raised an eyebrow. “Does this work, Dani?”

  The cook stepped out of Dallas’s sight and shrugged.

  Creed leaned low so he could see Dallas’s face. “How old are you?”

  “Old enough to drink.” She threw back the pear juice like it was a shot of whiskey. “How old are you?”

  Creed thought for a minute, then said, “Old enough to not drink like you do.”

  She made a face and Creed smiled as if they’d just agreed to silently ignore each other.

  Dallas never looked up again as she worked her way down the line of drinks. The two men talked about what had to be done. Creed suggested the few men scheduled to work the Sunday shift start repairs in one of the barns. It wouldn’t be warm, but at least they’d be out of the snow and the wind.

  “Good idea, but make sure Tye works in Sunlan’s barn.” Elliot passed Dallas another cup of coffee—her fourth round. “I watched him working with that mare about to foal yesterday. I’ve never seen a man who can handle a horse better.”

  “Me, either. He told me he’s worked with everything from rough stock for the rodeos to racehorses.”

  “We’re lucky to have him.”

  “Yeah, but I heard one of the men say he’d worked with him on a big ranch in Oklahoma a few winters ago. Said he just packed his gear and drove off one day. He’s not a stay-around guy.”

  Elliot shrugged. “I figured that. A man like him could be making ten times the money as a trainer.”

  Creed glanced over at Dallas. “With the snow still falling, I doubt any of your guests will be leaving today, unfortunately.”

  “Right. Maybe they’ll sleep in. It seems a good day for it.”

  “All but one is sleeping in.” The foreman pointed his thumb at her.

  Dallas raised her head just enough to stick her tongue out at him.

  Creed did a rare thing. He laughed.

  As Dani began setting food on the table, Miss Dallas stood slowly and walked out of the room, her body still slanting like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

  Creed frowned. “Should I go help her make it up the stairs?”

  “Yeah,” Elliot answered. “She’s now officially your responsibility.”

  The foreman was gone before Elliot could tell him that it was a joke.

  Dallas’s voice echoed throughout the house as she told him how to find the stairs. Then she asked him why his name was a tribe, and he asked her why her name was a city.

  Elliot poured one more cup of coffee and headed back to the office. He was a man of routine. Every morning, no matter how much he had to do or how late he’d been up, he checked his email.

  It was Sunday. The markets were closed. He’d probably have nothing.

  But when he clicked on, Griffin’s note came through.

  Hope all is going well. We’re staying over another week to make sure Sunlan’s dad is okay. But don’t worry. I hired you a tax accountant who’s agreed to fly out and help you for a few days. Hoping to lighten your load. Grif

  Elliot read it again before deleting the message. A tax accountant, good. Another guest in the house, bad. With Elliot’s luck, he’d be nearing retirement and hard of hearing. Elliot could use the help.

  Creed walked past the open office door. “Anything else, boss?”

  “No. Did you get Dallas settled in?”

  “Nope, she’s changing. Claims she wants to see the horse that’s about to have a baby.”

  “Did you talk her out of it?”

  Creed shrugged. “You ever talk a woman out of anything, boss?”

  “I don’t think I ever have.” Elliot shrugged. “I usually avoid them altogether. Only sane way to live.” Before Creed could leave, he added, “Tell Dani to have that girl who comes in to help with the cleaning tomorrow to dust out another bedroom—we’ve got an accountant coming.”

  “Third floor?”

  “No, better put him on the second. He’ll probably be old and nearsighted. Two flights of stairs might be too much.”

  “Will do, but then he’ll be next door to the girls.”

  “Correction. Put the old guy on thre
e. We don’t want him having a heart attack if the girls stay longer.”

  “You hoping they’ll leave today?”

  “I’ve been hoping for that every day for a week.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  December 17

  Winter Valley

  DAWN CAME IN clear over Winter Valley with the air perfectly still, almost as if the sun hadn’t awakened it yet.

  Cooper pulled on a few layers and took his coffee outside to watch the sunrise while the boy slept. If the wind didn’t kick up, it might be a good day to take Tatum back to the headquarters. The boy was not his problem. The sheriff in Crossroads would know what to do.

  Another day of delay in caring for the wild horses, but it couldn’t be helped. A boy didn’t belong up here. Coop smiled. Correction—a normal kid would hate it up here. But Tatum was like him, half-wild. Maybe he thought if he asked enough questions, he’d figure out how to stay and live off the land.

  Damn, he must have been treated terribly.

  Tossing the last of his coffee out over the snow, Coop half wished he could keep the kid, but that wasn’t the way it worked. The sheriff would call the right people, and they’d see he got to a safe place.

  Remembering his dream, Cooper decided to walk up the ridge and have a look at the valley. If a horse was down, he might be able to see it, maybe even help. The nightmare that one of the mustangs was in trouble had haunted his sleep all night.

  Going up to the top of the hill was harder than he thought it would be. The thick layer of snow had melted just enough to add an ice coating overnight. He should have brought his hiking boots, but he’d left in such a hurry he only had his Western boots, and they weren’t made for walking over ice.

  When he reached the top, the sun was fully up and promised a warming, but the temperature still felt like it was below thirty degrees.

  Cooper dusted off crystals frozen solid as spiked marbles from a rock and sat watching the river below. The banks were iced over, but water still flowed swiftly in the middle. The mustangs had probably found shelter in the overhangs and shallow caves.