A Cold Creek Christmas Surprise Read online

  Could she be charged with possession of stolen property? She would have to talk to the estate attorney about that.

  Abruptly, anger sizzled through the panic. She was furious suddenly at her father for leaving her to clean up this mess.

  She ought to just tell Ridge everything. About her father, about Joe. She didn’t want to believe it, but she was becoming increasingly convinced her brother had something to do with the Bowman murders.

  It couldn’t be a coincidence that he died only a few hundred miles from here, just a few days after the murders. That storage unit full of paintings was further proof. Her father must have been involved somehow. The Malikov crime family had probably orchestrated the whole thing—which still made her wonder why her father had never tried to liquidate the art.

  How could she tell Ridge about her family background? He would despise her if he knew even a fraction of what she came from. He would no doubt see the daughter of a Russian organized crime figure as something foreign and undesirable.

  She would tell him before she left, she promised herself, when she wouldn’t have to face the condemnation in his green eyes.

  The deception by omission didn’t sit comfortably with her, but she pushed it away. Instead, she turned to the two young girls who were watching her with wary curiosity.

  “I have to tell you, that Christmas tree is just about the prettiest one I’ve ever seen, Destry. Did you help decorate it?”

  “Yeah. It took me and my aunt Caidy like two whole days by the time we finished hanging all the decorations. That doesn’t count all the time making some and buying others.”

  “It’s really lovely. The whole house is the perfect Christmas home.”

  “It is pretty cool during the holidays,” Destry agreed. “We go cut our own tree up in the mountains right before Thanksgiving. And sometimes my dad hitches up the wagon to the horses, and we go for sleigh rides up and down the road singing Christmas carols.”

  “That sounds really wonderful.”

  “I’m sorry you were hurt at our house. How did you fall down the stairs?”

  “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking, I guess. As a result, I missed a step and lost my balance.”

  “I do that all the time,” Gabi assured her. “Trace says I’m always in too big of a hurry and I need to slow down.”

  “That’s probably very good advice. I’ll try to work on that. But, really, I’m fine. I’ve been trying to convince your father, Destry, that I’ll be okay back at the inn where I’ve been staying. So far I haven’t had much luck.”

  “He can be pretty stubborn,” the girl said, fully in sympathy. “I’ve been wanting to start wearing makeup and pierce my ears for like ages, and he won’t listen. I think he wishes we were pioneers or Amish or something. Becca lets Gabi wear lip gloss and eye shadow. I don’t know why I can’t.”

  She didn’t feel qualified to comment and decided to head off the insurrection before it could gather any steam.

  “So what’s in the box?”

  Destry let herself be distracted easily. “A present for my dad,” she said, her features bright. “You should see it. It’s going to be awesome.”

  “No doubt,” she said.

  “Show her,” Gabi urged.

  Destry appeared to hesitate.

  “You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to,” Sarah assured her.

  “You can’t say anything. I want him to be totally surprised.”

  “My lips are sealed, I swear.”

  Destry set the box on the sofa beside Sarah and pulled open the lid. Almost reverently, she pulled out a nearly finished throw blanket in shades of brown and green.

  “Wow,” she exclaimed, impressed. “You made that? Seriously?”

  “My aunt Becca taught me to knit. I’m still not very good but I’ve been working on it for like weeks. Last week I realized there was no way I would be done in time for Christmas unless I hauled some serious butt, so that’s what we’ve been doing. My fingers literally feel like they’re going to fall off.”

  “He’ll love it,” Sarah assured her. “Especially because you went to all the trouble to make it.”

  “I hope so. I dropped a lot of stitches. Aunt Becca was going to show me how to finish it but the baby was being kind of cranky this weekend and she didn’t have a chance.”

  Sarah hesitated, torn between her natural teacher instincts and desire to help and her fear that the more enmeshed she became in the Bowmans’ lives, the more difficult it would be to say goodbye to them all.

  If she were smart, she would ask Trace Bowman to take her back to the Cold Creek Inn, but she really didn’t want to spend more time with the police chief than she absolutely had to. She could spend one more night here, she decided, then drive back herself the next morning.

  “I can knit. I’m not super great, either—and now I’ve only got one hand—but maybe between the two of us, we can figure things out.”

  “Really? That would be great! Thank you!”

  “No problem,” she said.

  Male voices suddenly heralded the return of Ridge and his brother, and the girls rushed to close the plastic bin before either could sneak a peek.

  When the men returned, Sarah tensed, waiting for the police chief to recommence his interrogation. If he did, she would have to tell them all the truth far earlier than she wanted. Unlike the rest of her family, she had never been good at lies or subterfuge.

  To her vast relief, Chief Bowman didn’t comment again on the painting.

  “The snow is starting up again so we should probably start heading back, Gabs. We don’t want to be stuck out here on the ranch. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t like to feel Becca’s wrath if I have to leave her alone much longer with a cranky baby.”

  The girl rose. “Okay. See you, Uncle Ridge. Bye, Des. Ms. Whitmore, it was nice to meet you. I’m really sorry about your arm.”

  “Thank you.”

  When the two of them left, Sarah suddenly remembered the slow cooker meal she had thrown together before she came back into the great room and fell asleep by the fireplace.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked. “I made stew earlier.”

  “It smells delicious. You mind if I wait awhile? I should probably go try to take a look at the heater on the tractor while I’ve still got a little daylight. Will you two be okay in here if I head out?”

  Destry gave Sarah a sidelong, secretive look. “Go ahead. We’ll be just fine,” she said, with just a tad too much enthusiasm in her voice.

  Ridge looked a little confused but apparently decided to let it go. “Call me if you have any problems. I don’t know how late I’ll be so go ahead and eat without me.”

  “Sure,” Destry said.

  He headed for the kitchen. As soon as they heard the door close, she and Destry went to work.

  Chapter Eight

  Apparently she had led a safe, sheltered life in San Diego. She had absolutely no idea until now that snow could fall with such relentless abandon.

  A few hours later, Sarah sat at the kitchen table at the River Bow, Tripod at her feet, watching Destry roll out bread sticks from dough she had mixed up herself—apparently one of the specialties she had learned from her aunt.

  “I can never make them look even,” Destry complained. “My aunt Caidy’s really good at it but mine are always bulgy on one side, no matter how careful I am. Not that it really matters. My dad eats them anyway, bulgy or not.”

  Sarah smiled, though she couldn’t help searching out the window for further sign of him. He had been gone a long time. Destry seemed unconcerned, but Sarah couldn’t help watching for him—despite the fact that she couldn’t see more than a few feet past the window.

  She had certainly seen news coverage of bad storms tha
t socked in entire states, had read about them in books. But growing up in the mild, constant climate in San Diego hadn’t prepared her at all for the raw ferocity of a heavy low-pressure system. What had always seemed a rather abstract concept to her was quickly becoming cold, blowing reality that went on and on.

  She wouldn’t be going back to town that evening, and possibly not the next.

  She knew that should probably upset her but despite her worry for Ridge she had enjoyed the afternoon in the cozy, warm ranch house immensely.

  With a fire merrily burning in the great-room hearth, she and Destry had worked together to finish the knitted throw. Sarah was far from an expert, but she had enjoyed teaching the girl. The result was a beautiful blanket that she knew Ridge would cherish, especially knowing his daughter had worked so hard on it.

  “We just need to let these rise for a half hour and then we can throw them in the oven,” Destry said.

  “They look absolutely beautiful. I can’t wait to try them.”

  The girl grinned at her and set the jelly roll pan of bread sticks on the countertop.

  “Hey, you want some hot cocoa? My aunt Caidy has like twenty different mixes, and I think she left most of them. Mint chocolate, orange chocolate, caramel chocolate. Whatever you want. She orders them from some fancy gourmet coffee place in Jackson Hole.”

  “Which one is best?”

  “They’re all good but I think raspberry is my favorite.”

  “Sure. Raspberry sounds great. Can I help?”

  Destry made a face. “No. If I were making it the hard way, with fresh cream and shaved chocolate and stuff, I might need help, but this is super easy. All you have to do is heat up the water in the microwave, add the mix and you’re set.”

  The hard way sounded absolutely divine, and she vowed to get the recipe from Destry before she returned to San Diego, but right now raspberry cocoa from a mix would be great. She rose to grab four ibuprofen for her aching arm from the bottle by the sink, poured a glass of water and swallowed just as a particularly hard gust of wind hurled flakes against the window and rattled the glass.

  She shivered. “Will your dad be okay out there?”

  Destry followed her gaze out the window at the swirling, unceasing snow. “He’s a rancher. He’s used to bad weather. It’s part of the life,” she said simply.

  Sarah considered that quite an insight from a girl who was not yet twelve. “Will he be able to come in for dinner?”

  Destry nodded. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll come in soon to eat. He usually does. Sometimes he goes back out after dinner, but with this much snow, he might call it a night and start again first thing in the morning.”

  Their lifestyle was as foreign to Sarah as a Kabuki dancer’s but she found a rhythm and peace in it that called to her.

  “Do you like growing up on a ranch?” she asked Destry.

  Destry furrowed her brow as if she’d never considered the question before. “Sure I do. I mean, what’s not to like? I’ve been riding horses since I was three. I have my own and everything. I love going on roundup in the fall and spring and there are always new puppies and kittens to play with in the barn. It’s hard to be bored when we always have things to do.”

  This very competent, very mature-for-her-age girl set a mug of cocoa in front of Sarah. “I mean, yeah, it might be cool to have a mall closer than Idaho Falls and something bigger than the one there. I’d also like to maybe be able to go to the beach sometime, you know? But I wouldn’t trade it here for anything.”

  Sarah sipped at the delicious cocoa, trying to will away her sharp envy of the girl. She knew adults who weren’t as comfortable with their world as this winsome young woman.

  “Besides,” Destry went on, “I have the best family. My dad is like the coolest dad anywhere. He’s awesome, don’t you think?”

  Suddenly, she couldn’t think about anything else but that moment when he had almost kissed her, right here at the kitchen table. “Yes. Awesome,” she murmured, blaming the sudden heat of her cheeks on the steam from the cocoa.

  Destry stirred her own mug of cocoa before sliding it onto the table and sitting down across from Sarah. “When I was a little kid, I used to be kind of sad about not having a mom like my friends did. I mean, I had Aunt Caidy and she was great and loved me and took care of me and stuff, but, you know, sometimes you still kind of feel like something’s missing, right?”

  Sympathy washed over her for this charming girl with the green eyes, freckles and huge capacity for love. “Yes. I completely understand,” she said. “My parents divorced when I was small. I never really knew my father other than the occasional weekend.”

  “I didn’t even have that. My mom just took off and then she died. We didn’t know that until a while ago. I thought she just didn’t want me and left.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “My aunt Caidy thinks she would have come back eventually if she hadn’t died. Who knows?” She sipped at her hot cocoa. “I don’t think she was a very nice person. I can tell my aunt Caidy didn’t like her. My dad doesn’t talk about her at all.”

  Had Ridge’s heart been broken by his ex-wife? she wondered. It wasn’t a question she could ask the man’s daughter.

  “I hope I’m not like her,” Destry said, for the first time showing a glimmer of insecurity that broke Sarah’s heart.

  “There’s something else we have in common,” she said quietly. “My father wasn’t very nice, either. It’s taken me a long time to see this, but I’m slowly coming to realize I can’t let his decisions and weaknesses define me.”

  The truth resonated through her. Whatever her father or Joe might have done, none of it was her fault. She knew it, but she was no more eager to share her background or her suspicions with Ridge than she had been.

  Destry sipped at her cocoa, swishing a mouthful around in her mouth as if she were testing fine wine.

  “Do you want to know something funny? I used to feel really awful sometimes about her leaving, like, I don’t know, I wasn’t good enough for her to love me enough to stay or something.”

  Again, her heart was pierced by both the admission and Destry’s willingness to share it. “Oh, honey. You know that’s not true, right?”

  “Yeah. I do. Her leaving was about her, not me. And I know I could have had things a whole lot worse. Gabi lived with her mom for ten years, and it was a nightmare. She’s a lot better off since her mom left her with Becca and Uncle Trace. And if she hadn’t, Gabi wouldn’t be my best friend and part of our family now.”

  “That’s a good way to look at it.”

  “And I’m lucky, really. I might not have had a mom, but I’ve always had my dad and Aunt Caidy, which is more than a lot of kids.”

  She smiled, already crazy about Ridge’s daughter. “You’re an amazing young woman, Destry. Your family members are the ones who are lucky to have you.”

  Destry grinned. “I guess we’re one big, lucky, happy family then, aren’t we?”

  They were, while Sarah would be returning to her mostly solitary life. She tried not to let that depress her.

  “Thanks again for your help today,” Destry said. “I never would have been able to finish by Christmas. I can see why you’re a teacher. You’re really good at it.”

  “That’s the best compliment I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.”

  Destry glanced at the clock. “I think the bread sticks have risen enough. Should I put them in or wait for Dad?”

  “You would know that better than I do.”

  “I think I’ll throw them in,” she decided. “He’ll probably come in the minute I pull them out of the oven. Somehow he always seems to know when dinner’s ready.”

  Sure enough, the timer on the oven had only two minutes to go when the back door opened.

 
Destry giggled. “See? Told you.”

  A few moments later, Ridge entered the kitchen in stocking feet, bringing the scent of cold with him. His cheeks were rosy and wind-chapped, and she wanted to wrap him in that knitted blanket his daughter made for him and tuck him in by the fire.

  “Man, are those bread sticks I smell?”

  Destry nodded. “Yep. They’re just about done. You’ve got perfect timing, as usual.”

  “You truly are the best daughter in the world.”

  He leaned in and kissed her cheek, and she shrieked. “Ack! You’re like a block of ice! Even your eyelashes are frozen!”

  “It’s shaping up to be a bitter storm out there.” He crossed to the sink and turned on the warm water to wash his hands.

  “Were you able to get the heater working on the tractor?” Sarah asked him.

  “It’s not a hundred percent, but at least it’s not blowing cold air. How’s the arm?”

  “It’s actually feeling better.”

  “And the head?”

  “Same story. I really think I would be fine on my own.”

  “Sorry, but I’m afraid we’re not going anywhere this evening unless I hitch up a sleigh or drive you in on a snowmobile, neither of which would be very pleasant with that wind and blowing snow.”

  “Sleepover!” Destry exclaimed. “After dinner, we can roast marshmallows on the fire and have popcorn and watch a Christmas movie in our pajamas.”

  That idea actually sounded quite appealing while the storm howled and moaned around them. She had to admit, Destry’s presence at the ranch left her feeling much less trapped.

  “You Bowmans are nothing if not persistent,” she said with a laugh.

  Ridge smiled at her, and she was happy to see his cold-flushed cheeks already beginning to fade back to their normal tanned shade.

  He really was extraordinarily good-looking, with those long eyelashes and the grooves beside his cheeks that she would never dare call dimples.

  She found herself fascinated with that firm jawline, the mobile mouth. When she lifted her gaze to his, she found him watching her with an expression she could only call hungry. She shivered and looked away.