A Cold Creek Christmas Surprise Read online

  “Dinner is just about ready, but you still have time to take a shower and warm up the rest of the way.” His daughter sounded like a little bustling mother hen, which made Sarah smile.

  “I just might do that. Thanks, darlin’.” He kissed Destry on the top of her head, gave Sarah a smile and headed out of the kitchen, leaving her head filled with all kinds of inappropriate images. Steamy water. Bare skin. Hard muscles. She took a hurried sip of her hot chocolate, which did absolutely nothing to cool her suddenly overactive imagination.

  * * *

  He couldn’t remember an evening he had enjoyed more.

  First they had the delicious slow-cooker stew along with hot, crusty bread sticks dripping with parmesan cheese. Dessert was ice cream and a few of the leftover goodies from the wedding.

  While the storm howled like a kid having a tantrum, hurling snow at the windows and generally being a whiny, annoying pain in the ass, he and Destry and Sarah—and Ben Caldwell’s funny little dog—sat in the cozy family room of River Bow with a fire flickering merrily away in the woodstove, watching Des’s favorite Christmas movie, Elf.

  He had always been partial to Miracle on 34th Street or It’s a Wonderful Life himself—or Ralphie’s BB gun travails in A Christmas Story, when he was in the mood for a good laugh. But Destry insisted that only Elf would do, even though she had watched the movie already at least three times that holiday season.

  He didn’t care. Right now, he was just happy to be out of the cold with a bowl of popcorn and a couple of pretty females to enjoy the movie with. He settled in to watch the silly but sweet fish-out-of-water movie about an overgrown elf trying to bring a little Christmas spirit to his grinch of a father amid the hustle-bustle of New York City. As always, he had to smile at the way Destry repeated all her favorite lines and laughed in all the same places.

  He did his best, but he also couldn’t seem to stop sneaking little looks at Sarah all evening. She sat beside his daughter on the sofa, her casted arm propped up on a pillow. When she smiled at the movie, he felt as if a warm sunbeam had just shot right through the window to rest on his shoulders.

  He was aware of a sneaky, unexpected feeling of contentment. Winter nights were made for moments like this—the cozy, warm peace of being safe and dry and comfortable while the elements howled and raged outside.

  He was one hell of a lucky man.

  Their guest fell asleep about two-thirds through the movie, her head back against the sofa cushions and her mouth open just a bit. Poor thing. He wondered if she had had a chance to nap while he had been outside shoveling snow and preparing for the next onslaught. He doubted it. Judging by their animated conversation at dinnertime, Des probably yakked her ears off all day.

  The two of them seemed to get along well. Maybe it was the educator in Sarah, but she treated Destry with respect, and his daughter seemed to thrive at the genuine interest she showed.

  He would have to remember to thank her for temporarily helping to fill the gap left when Caidy got married. He had a feeling his daughter would miss her aunt—really, her surrogate mother—more than she wanted to admit.

  It wasn’t as if Caidy was going far, he reminded himself. She and Ben had a house just a few miles away with Ben’s two children from his previous marriage and he expected Des would spend as much time there as she did here.

  His sister loved his daughter deeply and would always be part of their lives, but Ridge knew this new phase of life for Caidy would be difficult for his daughter.

  At least with the distraction of Sarah’s company, Destry might be able to make it through the holidays with minimal emotional trauma—until their guest also left the River Bow and took her sweet smile back home to San Diego, anyway.

  He didn’t want to think about that tonight, especially when the idea of her leaving left him with a hollow ache in his gut he had no business entertaining.

  The closing credits to the movie started to play, and Destry sat up and stretched her arms above her head.

  “I just love that one, don’t you?” Destry asked the room in general.

  Ridge pressed a finger to his lips and pointed to their guest, curled up beside her with her eyes closed.

  “Oops,” Des whispered with a wince. “Sorry. I didn’t know she was asleep.”

  “She’s had a couple of long days,” he murmured. “This all has to be pretty unsettling for her, finding herself injured among strangers.”

  Destry looked thoughtful as she picked up the empty popcorn bowls and drink glasses and carried them into the kitchen. He followed after her.

  “I really like her, Dad. She’s super nice. We had a lot of fun today while you were out shoveling.”

  “Thanks again for fixing dinner. It was nice not to have to think of something to make.”

  “Sarah did the stew. I only made the bread sticks to go with it.”

  “Either way. Thanks.” He glanced at the clock in the kitchen. “Wow, I didn’t realize it was so late. You need to head to bed, too.”

  She made a face. “It’s only ten-thirty, and I don’t have school tomorrow.”

  “No, but I’ll probably need your help clearing the sidewalk here and maybe at the Turners and Hansens,” he said, naming the older neighbors on either side of the ranch who had trouble taking care of their own walks. Destry was a whiz with a snow shovel and she usually enjoyed it.

  “Okay,” she said promptly. “Hey, since it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, could we go for a sleigh ride later in the day, if the snow clears?”

  “We already took all your girlfriends last weekend. You really want another one?”

  “Just us and Sarah. She would like it, don’t you think?”

  He pictured her out in the sleigh with her nose pink from the cold and her eyes sparkling. “We might be able to arrange that. I’ll see what condition the sleigh is in.”

  Usually when he took Destry and her friends, he used a wheeled hay wagon on plowed roads. It held more bodies and was easier on the horses. He hadn’t used the smaller sleigh with runners in a few years. She would probably love it.

  “Yay. Thanks!” She padded over to him in her silly little fluffy Rudolph slippers and hugged him.

  At almost twelve, she was growing up so much, becoming a young lady right in front of his eyes. Before he knew it, she would be in high school, and all the boys would start flocking around her like cattle around the hay truck.

  “Should I wake Sarah?” she asked.

  “She looks pretty comfortable there by the fire. Let her sleep. I’m going to throw on my gear to take one last look around the ranch for the night to make sure everything is tight and secure in this wind. I’ll wake her when I come back inside.”

  “Okay. Good night, Dad.”

  She started for the stairs with Tripod in her arms. Seeing her right about where Sarah had landed reminded him of something.

  “Hey, I keep meaning to ask you. How would you feel if Sarah spent the holidays with us? She doesn’t have anybody else, and I feel bad thinking about her spending Christmas alone in the hotel, especially with a broken arm.”

  Destry smiled. “I think it would be great. I like her a lot. She’s really nice.”

  He liked her, too. Perhaps a little too much.

  “I’m trying to convince her, but she seems to think she’ll impose. Maybe you can help me try to persuade her we have tons of space and would love the company. For most of the holidays, it would just be the three of us—at least until dinner at Taft’s place on Christmas Day, and I know Laura won’t mind setting out another plate.”

  “I’ll try to convince her. It would be really fun to have her stay and I know I wouldn’t want to be alone at Christmas.”

  “Whoever would you talk to, if you were by yourself?” he teased.

  “Ha-ha.” She made a face. “Good n
ight, Dad. Love you.”

  “Love you right back.”

  He watched her pad all the way up the stairs in her silly festive slippers before he headed back to the mudroom for his winter gear again.

  * * *

  What he thought would be a quick fifteen-minute trip outside to make sure all hatches were battened down turned into an hour when he had to scramble to nail a couple of boards over a barn window that had shattered from a falling tree branch.

  The welcome warmth of the house and the lingering scent of the apple-wood fire and their movie popcorn greeted him when he walked back inside, his bones aching from the cold and the twenty-hour day.

  He loved the River Bow and had never wanted to be anything but a rancher like his father, but these sorts of days were long and hard—and, unfortunately, far from unusual.

  He couldn’t complain. He was doing exactly what he wanted with his life, something few people could claim. He was damn proud of what he had accomplished with the River Bow in the past twelve years. The ranch had always been prosperous—a rare feat in the transitory agricultural economy—but his father had been traditional, even a little staid, in his practices.

  Through a few innovative changes, Ridge had managed to double the size of the herd while tripling the profit.

  For all intents and purposes, the ranch was his. His brothers and Caidy loved the River Bow, but none of them was much interested in running it. Before she met Ben the year before and started taking online classes to become a veterinary tech, Caidy had trained horses and dogs and helped out where she was needed, but it had never been her passion.

  He bore all responsibility for success or failure—and that was exactly how he liked it, even if it meant long, tough days like this one.

  Yawning, he walked into the family room and found Sarah still sleeping there, though at some point in the past hour she had stretched out on the sofa and pulled a blanket over herself.

  He gazed at her, lovely and serene in the flickering firelight through the woodstove glass and the multicolored glow from the little Christmas tree Caidy put up in this room.

  For one crazy moment, he was overwhelmed with an odd feeling of rightness as he looked at her, as if she belonged exactly here.

  Whoa. Slow down, he thought, more than a little disturbed at the direction of his thoughts. There was nothing right about Sarah Whitmore being on the River Bow. She didn’t belong here, any more than Melinda had. She was a guest for only a few days, that was all, and he needed to remember that.

  Her presence here was transient, just someone who would be drifting out of their lives as soon as she was up to it.

  Yeah, he was fiercely attracted to her. Every time he looked at her, he had a funny little ache in his gut, the same feeling he had whenever he looked at a piece of his mom’s art that particularly moved him.

  He hadn’t been looking for it and he didn’t fully understand how he could be so quickly and completely drawn to a woman he still didn’t know well. But there it was. He had it bad for her, and each moment they spent together only ratcheted up his aching hunger.

  She wasn’t for him, he reminded himself again. He needed to keep that clear in his head, no matter what kind of nonsense his gut—and other parts—tried to persuade him about.

  With that in mind, he moved closer to the sofa. He hated to disturb her, but she would be far more comfortable in a bed where she could position that arm correctly.

  “Sarah. Wake up.”

  Her eyelids flickered at his soft words, but she gave a delicate little sniff and closed them again. He was seriously tempted to lift her up and carry her to the bedroom like he used to do with Destry when she was small, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t earn him any points with his houseguest.

  “Sarah,” he tried again. “It’s late. Come on, wake up. Just for a minute. I’m sure it’s cozy in here, but that fire’s going to burn out soon and you’ll be freezing. I promise you’ll be better off in a bed.”

  “Tired,” she muttered, her eyes still stubbornly closed.

  He smiled at how very much she sound like Destry just now. Not knowing what else to do, he crouched down on a level with her. “Come on. Wake up. Let’s get you to bed.”

  Unable to resist the beckoning appeal of that silky skin, he touched her cheek lightly with the back of his fingers. Her lashes fluttered once then twice and finally those blue-gray eyes opened.

  She gazed at him, sleepy and disoriented. He knew the instant she recognized him. Her lips parted slightly, as if on a breath, and her eyes softened.

  “Ridge. Hi.” She spoke the words with a sweetness and welcome that stunned him, and for an instant, his emotions soared with such happiness he just wanted to crouch here beside the sofa and soak it in.

  The impulse left him startled, even a little bit shaky.

  “What time is it?” she asked, her voice a sexy rasp that shivered down his spine as if she’d trailed her fingertips there.

  “Heading toward midnight,” he answered, his own voice gruff. “Des went to bed more than an hour ago.”

  She sat up and rubbed at her neck. “Oh! I guess that means I missed the end of the movie.”

  “Yeah. I wouldn’t worry about that at all. Destry will probably watch it all over again with you tomorrow if you want to catch the part you missed. She won’t mind a bit, trust me.”

  She laughed a little and stretched out the arm not in a cast over her head. He had a tough time reminding himself to breathe.

  “Come on. I’ll take you to bed. Er, help you to bed.”

  He stumbled over the slip, hoping she didn’t notice. Her sudden soft, very attractive blush indicated otherwise.

  “You don’t have to,” she assured him. “I’m quite certain I can find my way the twenty feet to your sister’s bedroom.”

  He managed a smile, when what he really wanted to do was press her back against those sofa cushions.

  “Humor me. I just want to make sure you’re not too wobbly, with that concussion.”

  She sighed and stood up. “Okay, fine. You can babysit me all the way to the bedroom, if that will make you feel better.”

  Yeah, he knew exactly what would make him feel better—and a bedroom was definitely involved.

  He ground his back teeth, trying his best to force those all-too-appealing images out of his head, and followed her down the hall.

  “You look cold,” she said. “Have you been outside again in that weather?”

  Okay. Good. Something safe to discuss. The intense blizzard was a great topic of conversation guaranteed to cool down his feverish thoughts. “Yeah. I went out to give things one last check before heading to bed myself. It was a good thing I did. A tree limb had knocked out a window in the barn. It took me a few minutes to patch over it.”

  “It’s still snowing?” she asked, incredulity in her tone.

  “I’m afraid so,” he answered. “We’re probably up to two feet by now. I sure do hope people had their Christmas shopping done already because I think most of Pine Gulch will be socked in for the next few days.”

  He opened her door. “Do you need anything? A glass of water? Midnight snack? More painkillers?”

  “I should be fine, especially since your brother brought my clothes.”

  “Good. That’s good.” Her skin had to be the softest he’d ever seen on a woman, all creamy hollows and curves that begged for a man’s mouth to explore....

  “Um, good night, I guess,” she said, her voice throaty again.

  “Good night.”

  He gazed down at her, all sleepy, warm woman, and that sultry connection tugged between them.

  He angled his head down without really even being aware of it just as she tilted her face up in an invitation he couldn’t refuse.

  Just one kiss, he told himself, only
an experiment to discover if she could possibly taste as delicious as she looked.

  His mouth brushed hers once, twice, tasting chocolate and buttery popcorn and Sarah. She didn’t move for a long moment, and he was suddenly afraid he’d forgotten how to do this, but then she gave a tiny, sexy little sound and kissed him back.

  * * *

  She couldn’t quite wrap her head around the idea that she was really here, kissing Ridge Bowman.

  His skin was cool against hers—no wonder, since he had spent most of the day out in the harsh elements, poor man. She wanted to share her warmth with him, to tuck him against her until he absorbed some of her heat.

  Any trace of sleepiness had long since disappeared, lost in the sheer wonder of the moment.

  She was quite certain she had never been kissed like this, as if he couldn’t get enough, as if he had spent a lifetime preparing for the moment their mouths would finally meet.

  She wanted to savor every instant, every taste.

  “I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day,” he said, the gruff words vibrating through to her core.

  “Have you?” she managed. It was a very good thing his arms around her were tough as steel or she probably would have dissolved to the floor in a quivering pile of hormones.

  Even as passion flared between them, hot and bright, the tiny corner of her mind that could still string together a coherent thought was touched by the care he took not to jostle her broken arm.

  “You’re just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t get you out of my head. Crazy, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, yes.” She didn’t know if her breathy response was an agreement or simply a plea that he kiss her again just like that, right there at the corner of her mouth, that he wrap all those hard muscles around her and never let go....

  He must have instinctively understood. They kissed for a long time, there in his cozy family room with the little Christmas tree glowing merrily in the corner. This felt so good, so right, she didn’t ever want to stop.

  Eventually, though, reality began to seep through the wonder of Ridge’s arms. This wasn’t real. It was as fragile and insubstantial as silvery tinsel. Yes, he might be attracted to her right now, but that couldn’t possibly last when he found out about her family.