Holiday in Stone Creek (12 page)

Ho, ho, ho,
she thought, stashing her purchases in the back of the rig, next to Charlie.
Deck the halls.

E
VEN THOUGH THEY HAD
a million things to do, Sophie insisted on stopping at Stone Creek Middle School when they drove past it. It was a small brick building, and the reader board in front read "Closed for Thanksgiving Vacation! See You Monday!"

The whole town, Tanner thought, feeling grumbly, was relentlessly cheerful. And what was up with that Kris Kringle yahoo, back at the tree lot, claiming he had seven reindeer at home, waiting to lift off on Christmas Eve?

Sophie cupped her hands and peered through the plate-glass door at the front of the school, her breath fogging it up. "Wow," she said. "The computer room at Briarwood is bigger than this whole place."

"Can we go now, Soph? We still need to pick up
lights and ornaments and some things for you to wear, not to mention groceries."

Sophie turned and made a face at him. "Bah humbug," she said. "Why are you so crabby all of a sudden?" She paused to waggle her eyebrows. "You looked real happy when Olivia was around."

"That guy at the tree lot..."

"What?" Sophie said, skipping back down the snowy steps to the walk. "You think he's a serial killer or something, just because he claims to be Santa?"

"Where do you get these things?" Tanner asked.

"He's delusional, that's all," said the doctor's daughter. "And probably harmless."

"Probably," Tanner agreed. He knew then what was troubling him--Olivia clearly didn't want to surrender custody of the reindeer until she knew "Kris Kringle" was all right. And he cared, more than he liked, what Olivia wanted and didn't want.

"Danger lurks everywhere!" Sophie teased, making mitten claws with her hands in an attempt to look scary. "You just can't be
too careful!
"

"Cut it out, goofball," Tanner said, chuckling in spite of himself as they both got back in the truck. "You don't know anything about the world. If you did, you wouldn't have run away from the field trip and tried to board an iron horse headed west."

"Are we going to talk about
that
again?" Sophie fastened her seat belt with exaggerated care. "I'm a proactive person, Dad. Don't you want me to be
proactive?
"

Tanner didn't answer. Whatever he said would be wrong.

"That Santa shouldn't be saying 'ho, ho, ho,'" Sophie informed him as they pulled away from the curb.
Next stop, the ranch, to drop off the tree, then on to a mall he'd checked on MapQuest, outside Flagstaff. "It isn't politically correct."

"Ask me what I think of political correctness," Tanner retorted.

"Why would I do that when I already know?" Sophie responded cheerfully. "At Briarwood we call Valentine's Day 'Special Relationship Day' now."

"What's next? 'Significant Parental Figure Day' for Father's and Mother's Day?"

Sophie laughed, her cheeks bright with cold and excitement. "It does sound kind of silly, doesn't it?"

"Big-time," Tanner said. He couldn't even tell a woman on his executive staff that her hair looked nice without risking a sexual-harassment suit. Where would it all end?

At home, Tanner unloaded the tree and set it on the front porch so the branches could settle, while Sophie went out to the barn to eyeball the horses. In looks she resembled Kat, but she sure took after Tessa when it came to hay-burners.

"That dog is still here," she reported when she came back. "The one that was waiting on the porch when we got back from riding this morning. Shouldn't we take her home or something?"

"Ginger lives next door, with Olivia," Tanner reminded Sophie. "If she wants to go home, she can get there on her own."

"I hope she isn't depressed, like Butterpie was," Sophie fretted.

Tanner grinned, gave her ponytail a light tug. "She and Butterpie are buddies," he said, recalling finding
the dog in the pony's stall. "Olivia will take her home after supper tonight, most likely."

"You like Olivia, don't you?" Sophie asked, with a touch of slyness, as she climbed back into the truck.

Tanner got behind the wheel, started the engine. Olivia was right. The rig was too clean--it had stood out like the proverbial sore thumb back in town, at the tree lot. Maybe he could find a creek to run it through or something. With the ground frozen hard, it wouldn't be easy to come up with mud.

So where were the other guys getting all that macho dirt streaking their rigs and clogging their grilles?

"Of course I like her," he said. "She's a friend."

"She's pretty."

"I'll grant you that one, shorty. She's very pretty."

"You could marry her."

Tanner, in the process of turning the truck around, stopped it instead. "Don't go there, Soph. Olivia's a hometown girl, with a family and a veterinary practice. I'll be moving on to a new place after Stone Creek. And neither one of us is looking for a serious relationship."

Sophie sighed, and her shoulders sloped as though the weight of the world had just been laid on them. "I almost wish that Kris Kringle guy really was Santa Claus," she said. "Then I could tell him I want a mom for Christmas."

Tanner knew he was being played, but his eyes burned and his throat tightened just the same. No accounting for visceral reactions. "That was pretty under-handed, Soph," he said. "It was blatant manipulation. And guilt isn't going to work with me. You should know that by now."

Sophie folded her arms and sulked. Only twelve and
already she'd mastered the you're-too-stupid-to-live look teenage girls were so good at. Tessa had been world champ, but clearly the torch had been passed. "What
ever.
"

"I know you'd like to have a mother, Sophie."

"You know, but you don't care."

"I
do
care."

A tear slid down Sophie's left cheek, and Tanner knew it wasn't orchestrated to win his sympathy, because she turned her head quickly, so he wouldn't see.

"I do care, Sophie," he repeated.

She merely nodded. Gave a sniffle that tore at his insides.

Maybe someday she'd understand that he was only trying to protect her. Maybe she wouldn't.

He wondered if he could deal with the latter possibility. Suppose, even as a grown woman, Sophie still resented him?

Well, he thought grimly, this wasn't
about
him. It was about keeping Sophie safe, whether she liked it or not.

He took the turnoff for Flagstaff, bypassing Stone Creek completely. Sophie was female. Shopping would make her feel better, and if that didn't work, there was still the Christmas tree to set up, and Olivia coming over for supper.

They'd get through this, he and Sophie.

"The time's going to go by really fast," Sophie lamented, breaking the difficult silence and still not looking at him. "Before I know it, I'll be right back at Briarwood. Square one."

Tanner waited a beat to answer, so he wouldn't snap at the kid. God knew, being twelve years old in this
day and age couldn't be easy, what with all the drugs and the underground websites and the movement to rename
Valentine's Day,
for God's sake. No, it would be difficult with two ordinary parents and a mortgaged house, and Sophie didn't have two parents.

She didn't even have
one,
really.

"Everything's going to be all right, Soph," he said. Was he trying to convince her, or himself? Both, probably.

"I could live with Aunt Tessa on Starcross--couldn't I? And go to Stone Creek Middle School, like a regular kid?"

Tanner nearly had to pull over to the side of the road. Instead, he clamped his jaw down tight and concentrated harder on navigating the slick high-country road curving ever upward into the timbered area around Flagstaff.

He should have seen this coming, after the way Sophie had made him stop at the school in town so she could look in the windows, but the kid had a gift for blindsiding him.

"Aunt Tessa," he said evenly, "is only visiting for the holidays."

"She's bringing her horses."

"Okay, a few months at most. Can we not talk about this for a little while, Soph? Because it's a fast track to nowhere."

That was when she brought out the big guns. "They have drugs at Briarwood, you know," she said with a combination of defiance and bravado. "It's not an ivory tower, no matter
how
good the security is."

That time he
did
pull over, with a screech of tires and a lot of flying slush.
"What?"
he rasped.

"Meth," Sophie said. "Ice. That's--"

"I
know
what ice is," Tanner snapped. "So help me God, Sophie, if you're messing with me--"

"It's true, Dad."

He believed her. That was the worst thing of all. His stomach rolled, and for a moment he thought he might have to shove open the door and get sick, right then and there.

"It's a pervasive problem," Sophie said, sounding like a venerable news commentator instead of a pre-adolescent girl.

"Has anyone offered you drugs? Have you taken any?" He kept his hand on the door handle, just in case.

"I'm not stupid, Dad," she answered. "Drugs are for losers, people who can't cope unless their brains have been chemically altered."

"Would you talk like a twelve-year-old for a few minutes? Just to humor me?"

"I don't take drugs, Dad," Sophie reiterated quietly.

"How are they getting in? The drugs, I mean?"

"Kids bring them from home. I think they mostly steal them from their parents."

Tanner laid his forehead on the steering wheel and drew slow, deep breaths.
From their parents.
In his mind, he started drawing up blueprints for an ivory tower. Not that he'd use ivory, even if he could get it from a legitimate supplier.

Sophie touched his arm. "Dad, I'm trying to make a point here. Are you okay? Because you look kind of...gray. You're not having a heart attack or anything, are you?"

"Not the kind you're thinking of," Tanner said,
straightening. Pulling himself together. He was a father. He needed to act like one.

When he was sure he wasn't a menace to Sophie, himself and the general driving public, he pulled back out onto the highway. Sophie fiddled with the radio until she found a station she liked, and a rap beat filled the truck cab.

Tanner adjusted the dial. Brad O'Ballivan's voice poured out of the speakers. "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

It figured. Tessa was practically being stalked by the song, according to her, and now he probably would be, too.

"Is that the guy who hired you to build the animal shelter?" Sophie asked.

Beyond relieved at the change of subject, Tanner said, "Yes."

"He has a nice voice."

"That's the word on the street."

"Even if the song
is
kind of hokey."

Tanner laughed. "I'll tell him you said so."

After that they talked about ordinary things--not drugs at Briarwood, not Sophie's longing for a mother, destined to be unrequited, not weird Kris Kringle, the reindeer man. No, they discussed a new saddle for Butterpie, and what to get Tessa for Christmas, and the pros and cons of nuking a package of frozen lasagna for supper.

Reaching the mall, Tanner parked the truck and the two of them waded in. They bought ornaments and lights and tinsel. They cleaned out the "young juniors" department in an upscale store, and chose a yellow cashmere sweater for Tessa's gift. They had a late lunch in
the food court, watching as the early shoppers rushed by with their treasures.

On the way out of town they stopped at a Western supply store for the new saddle, and after that, a supermarket, where they filled two carts. When they left the store, Tanner almost tripped over a kid in ragged jeans, a T-shirt and a thin jacket, trying to give away squirmy puppies from a big box. The words "Good Xmas Presents" had been scrawled on the side in black marker.

Tanner lengthened his stride, making the shopping cart wheels rattle.

Sophie stopped her cart.

"Oh, they're so cute," she said.

"Only two left," the kid pointed out unnecessarily. There were holes in the toes of his sneakers. Had he dressed for the part?

"Sophie," Tanner said in warning.

But she'd picked up one of the puppies--a little golden-brown one of indeterminate breed, with floppy ears and big, hopeful eyes. Then the other, a black-and-white version of the dog Tanner remembered from his first-grade reader.

"Dad," she whispered, drawing up close to his side, the full cart she'd been pushing left behind by the boy and the box, to show him the puppies. "Look at that kid. He probably needs the money, and who knows what might happen to these poor little things if they don't get sold?"

Tanner couldn't bring himself to say the obvious--that Sophie would be leaving for a new school in a few weeks, since Briarwood was definitely out of the question now that he knew about the drugs. He'd just have
to buy the dogs and hope that Olivia would be able to find them good homes when the time came.

At the moment, turning Sophie down wasn't an option, even if it was the right thing to do. He'd had to say no to one too many things already.

So Tanner gave the boy a ridiculous amount of money for the puppies, and Sophie scared them half to death with a squeal of delight, and they loaded up the grub and the dogs and headed back to Starcross Ranch.

O
LIVIA HADN'T BEEN ABLE
to track Ashley down, even after hunting all over town, and no emergency veterinary calls came in, either. She had her hair cut at the Curly-Q, bought some groceries and cleaning supplies at the supermarket, then she and Charlie Brown went home.

Ginger was waiting on the back porch when she arrived, balls of snow clinging to her legs and haunches from the walk across the very white field between Olivia's place and Tanner's.

"It's about time you got here,"
the dog said, rising off her nest of blankets next to the drier.

Freezing, Olivia hustled through the kitchen door and set Charlie Brown on the table, root-bound in his bulky plastic pot. "You're the one who insisted on staying at Starcross," she said before going back out for the bags from the hardware store and supermarket.

A pool of melted snow surrounded Ginger when Olivia finished carrying everything inside. After setting the last of the bags on the counter, she threw an old towel into the drier to warm it up and adjusted the thermostat for the temperamental old furnace. She started a pot of coffee--darn, she should have picked up a new brewing apparatus at the hardware store--and filled Ginger's kibble bowl.

While the dog ate and the coffee brewed, Olivia fished the towel out of the drier and knelt on the scuffed and peeling linoleum floor to give Ginger a rubdown.

"Were they out of good Christmas trees?"
Ginger asked, eyeing Charlie Brown, whose sparse branches seemed to droop a little at the insult.

"Be nice," Olivia whispered. "You'll hurt his feelings."

"I suppose I should be happy that you're decorating this year,"
Ginger answered, giving Olivia's face an affectionate lick as thanks for the warm towel.
"Since you're so Christmas-challenged and all."

Olivia stood, chuckling. "I saw these stick-on reindeer antlers for dogs at the hardware store," she said. "They have jingle bells and they light up. Treat me right or I'll buy you a pair, take your picture and post it on the internet."

Ginger sighed. She hated costumes.

A glance at the clock told Olivia she had an hour before she was due at Starcross for supper. After her shower, she decided, she'd dig through her closet and bureau drawers again, and find something presentable to wear, so Sophie wouldn't think she was a rube.

Ginger padded after her, jumped up onto her un-made bed and curled up in the middle. Olivia laid out clean underwear, her second-best pair of jeans and a red sweatshirt from two years ago, when Ashley had been on a fabric-painting kick. It had a cutesy snowman on the front, with light-up eyes, though the battery was long dead.

Toweling off after her shower and pulling on her clothes quickly, since even with the thermostat up, the
house was drafty, Olivia told Ginger about the invitation to Starcross.

"I'll stay here,"
Ginger said.
"Reinforcements have arrived."

"What kind of reinforcements?" Olivia asked, peering at Ginger through the neck hole as she tugged the sweatshirt on over her head.

"You'll see,"
Ginger answered, her eyes already at half-mast as she drifted toward sleep.
"Take your kit with you."

"Is Butterpie sick?" Olivia asked, alarmed.

"No,"
came the canine reply.
"I would have told you right away if she was. But you'll need the kit."

"Okay," Olivia said.

Ginger's snore covered an octave, somewhere in the alto range.

Olivia wasn't musical.

A
T SIX O'CLOCK
, straight up, she drove up in front of the ranch house at Starcross. Colored lights glowed through the big picture window, a cheering sight in the snow-flecked twilight.

Bringing her medical kit as far as the porch, Olivia set it down and knocked.

Sophie opened the door, her small face as bright as the tree lights. The scents of piney sap and something savory cooking or cooling added to the ambience.

"Wait till you
see
what we got at the supermarket!" Sophie whooped, half dragging Olivia over the threshold.

Tanner stood framed in the entrance to the living room, one shoulder braced against the woodwork. He wore a blue Henley shirt, with a band around the neck
instead of a collar, open at the throat, and jeans that looked as though they'd seen some decent wear. "Yeah," he drawled with an almost imperceptible roll of his eyes, "wait till you see."

A puppy bark sounded from behind him.

"You didn't," Olivia said, secretly thrilled.

"There are
two
of them!" Sophie exulted as the pair gamboled around Tanner to squirm and yip at Olivia's feet.

She crouched immediately, laughing and ruffling small, warm ears. So
this
was the reason Ginger had wanted her to bring the kit. These were mongrels, not purebreds, up to date on their vaccinations before they left the kennel, and they'd need their shots.

"I named them Snidely and Whiplash," Sophie said. "After the villain in
The Dudley Do-Right Show.
"

"I suggested Going and Gone," Tanner interjected humorously, "but the kid wouldn't go for it."

"Which is which?" Olivia asked Sophie, ignoring Tanner's remark. Her heart was beating fast--did this mean he was thinking of staying on at Starcross after the shelter was finished?

"That's Snidely," Sophie said, pointing to the puppy with gold fur. They looked like some kind of collie-shepherd-retriever mix. "The spotted one is Whiplash."

"Let's just have a quick look at them," Olivia suggested. "My kit is on the porch. Would you get it for me, please?"

Sophie rushed to comply.

"Going and Gone?" Olivia asked very softly, watching Tanner. Now that she'd shifted, she could see the blue spruce behind him, in front of the snow-laced picture window.

But Sophie was back before he could answer.

"Later," he mouthed, and his eyes looked so serious that some of the spontaneous Christmas magic drifted to the floor like tired fairy dust.

Olivia examined the puppies, pronounced them healthy and gave them each their first round of shots. They were "box" puppies, giveaways, and that invariably meant they'd had no veterinary care at all.

"Does that hurt them?" Sophie asked, her blue eyes wide as she watched Olivia inject serum into the bunched-up scruffs of their necks with a very small needle. They'd all gathered in the living room, near the fragrant tree and the fire dancing on the hearth, Olivia employing the couch as an examining table.

"No," she said gently, putting away her doctor gear. "The injections will prevent distemper and parvo, among other things. The diseases
would
hurt, and these girls will need to be spayed as soon as they're a little older."

Sophie nodded solemnly. "They wet on the floor," she said, "but I promised Dad I'd clean up after them myself."

"Good girl," Olivia said. "If you take them outside every couple of hours, they'll get the idea." Her gaze was drawn to Tanner, but she resisted.
Going and Gone?
The names didn't bode well. Had he actually brought these puppies home intending to get rid of them as soon as Sophie went back to school?

No,
she thought.
He couldn't have. He couldn't be that cold.

There was lasagna for supper, and salad. Sophie talked the whole time they were eating, fairly bounc
ing in her chair while the puppies tumbled and played under the table, convinced they had a home.

Even though she was hungry, Olivia couldn't eat much.

When the meal was over, Sophie and Olivia put on coats and went out to the barn to see Butterpie and Shiloh while Tanner, strangely quiet, stayed behind to clean up the kitchen.

"We bought a new saddle for Butterpie," Sophie said excitedly as they entered the hay-scented warmth of the barn. "And Dad's having all the stalls fixed up so Aunt Tessa's horses will be comfortable here."

"Aunt Tessa?" Olivia asked, admiring the saddle. She'd had one much like it as a young girl; Big John had bought it for her thirteenth birthday, probably secondhand and at considerable sacrifice to the budget.

Now, she thought sadly, she didn't even own a horse.

"Tessa's my dad's sister. She has a whole bunch of horses, and she's getting a divorce, so Dad sent her money to come out here to Arizona." Sophie drew a breath and rushed on. "Maybe you saw her on TV. She starred in
California Women
for years--and a whole bunch of shows before that."

Olivia remembered the series, though she didn't watch much television. Curiously, her viewing was mostly limited to the holidays--she always tried to catch
It's a Wonderful Life, The Bishop's Wife
and, of course,
A Charlie Brown Christmas.

"I think I've seen it once or twice," she said, but she couldn't place Tessa's character.

Sophie sagged a little as she opened Butterpie's stall. "I think Dad's going to ask Aunt Tessa to stay here and
look after Starcross Ranch and Shiloh and the puppies after he leaves," she said.

"Oh," Olivia said, deflated but keeping up a game face for Sophie's sake.

Butterpie looked fit, and she was eating again.

"I'm still hoping he'll change his mind and let me stay here," Sophie confided quietly. "My education shouldn't be interrupted--at least we agree on that much--so I get to go to Stone Creek Middle School, starting Monday, until they let out for Christmas vacation."

Olivia didn't know what to say. She had opinions about boarding schools and adopting puppies he didn't intend to raise, that was for sure, but sharing them with Sophie would be over the line. Satisfied that Butterpie was doing well, she let herself into Shiloh's stall to stroke his long side.

He nuzzled her affectionately.

And her cell phone rang.

Here it was. The sick-cow call Olivia had been expecting all day.

But the number on the caller ID panel was Melissa's private line at the law office. What was she doing working this late, and on a holiday weekend, too?

"Mel? What's up?"

"It's Ashley," Melissa said quietly. "She just called me from some Podunk town in Tennessee. She caught the shuttle to the airport early this morning, evidently, and flew out of Phoenix without telling any of us."

"Tennessee?" Olivia echoed, momentarily confused. Or was she simply trying to deny what she already knew, deep down?

"I guess Mom's living there now," Melissa said.

Sophie stepped out of Butterpie's stall just as Olivia stepped out of Shiloh's, her face full of concern. They turned their backs on each other to work the latches, securing both horses for the night.

"Oh, my God," Olivia said.

"She's a wreck," Melissa went on, sounding as numb as Olivia felt. "Ashley, I mean. Things turned out badly--so badly that Brad's chartering a jet to go back there and pick up the pieces."

Sophie caught hold of Olivia's arm, steered her to a bale of hay and urged her to sit down.

She sat, gratefully. Standing up any longer would have been impossible, with her knees shaking the way they were.

"Should I go get my dad?" Sophie asked.

Olivia shook her head, then closed her eyes. "What happened, Mel? What did Ashley say on the phone?"

"She just said she should have listened to you and Brad. She was crying so hard, I could hardly understand her. She told me where she was staying and I called Brad as soon as we hung up."

Ashley. The innocent one, the one who believed in happy endings. She'd just run up against an ugly reality, and Olivia was miles away, unable to help her. "I'm going to call Brad and tell him I want to go, too," she said, about to hang up.

"I tried that," Melissa answered immediately. "He said he wanted to handle this alone. My guess is he's already on his way to Flagstaff to board the jet."

Olivia fought back tears of frustration, fury and resignation. "When did Ashley call?" she asked, fighting for composure. Sophie was already plenty worried--
the look on her face proved that--and it wouldn't do to fall apart in front of a child.

"About half an hour ago. I called Brad right away, and we were on the phone for a long time. As soon as we hung up, I called you."

"Thanks," Olivia said woodenly.

"Are you all right?" Melissa asked.

"No," Olivia replied. "Are you?"

"No," Melissa admitted. "And I won't be until the twin-unit is back home in Stone Creek, where she belongs. I know you want to call Brad and beat your head against a brick wall trying to get him to let you go to Tennessee with him, so I'll let you go."

"Go home," Olivia told her kid sister. "It's a holiday weekend and you shouldn't be working."

Melissa's chuckle sounded more like a sob. Olivia was terrified, so Melissa, what with the twin bond and all, had to be ready to dissolve. "Like
you
have any room to talk," she said. "Can I come out to your place, Liv, and spend the night with you and Ginger?"

"Meet you there," Olivia said, following up with a goodbye. She speed-dialed Brad in the next moment.

"No," he said instead of the customary hello.

"Where are you?"

"Almost to Flagstaff. The jet's waiting. When I know anything, I'll call you."

Clearly, asking him to come back for her, or wait till she could get to the airport, would, as her sister had predicted, be a waste of breath. Besides, Melissa needed her, or she wouldn't have asked to spend the night.

"Okay," Olivia said. A few moments later she shut her cell phone.

Sophie stood watching her. "Did something bad happen?"

Olivia stood. Her knees were back in working order, then. That was something. "It's a family thing," she said. "Nothing you need to worry about. I have to go home right away, though."

Sophie nodded sagely. "Shall I go get your doctor bag?" she asked. "I'll explain to Dad and everything."

"Thanks," Olivia said, heading for the Suburban.

Sophie raced for the house, but it was Tanner who brought the medical kit out to her.

"Anything I can do?" he asked, handing it through the open window of the Suburban.