Holiday in Stone Creek (9 page)

Tanner's hopes were rising, and so was something else.

"That's a pretty personal question," she said, sounding miffed. She even went so far as to glance over at the dog, sleeping the sleep of the innocent on the rug in front of the stove.

"I'll tell if you will."

"It's been a while," she admitted loftily. "And maybe I don't
want
to know who you've had sex with and how recently. Did that ever occur to you?"

"A while as in six months to a year, or never?"

"I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're trying to find out."

"Good," he said.

"I'm leaving," she said. But she didn't get up from
her chair. She didn't call the dog, or even put down her fork, though she wasn't taking in much pie.

"You're free to do that."

"Of course I am."

"
Or
we could go upstairs, right now."

She swallowed visibly, and her wonderful eyes widened.

Hot damn, she was actually considering it.

Letting herself go. Doing something totally irresponsible, just for the hell of it. Tanner went hard, and he was glad she couldn't see through the tabletop.

"No strings attached?" she asked.

"No strings," Tanner promised, though he felt a little catch inside, saying the words. He wondered at his reaction, but not for long.

He was a man, after all, sitting across a table from one of the loveliest, most confusing women he'd ever met.

"I suppose we're just going to obsess until we do it," Olivia said. Damn, but she was full of surprises. He'd expected her to be talking herself
out
of going to bed with him, not
into
it.

"Probably," Tanner said, very seriously.

"Get it out of the way."

"Out of our systems," Tanner agreed, wanting to keep the ball rolling. Watching for the right time to make his move and all the time asking himself what the hell he was doing.

He stood up.

She stood up. And probably noticed his erection.

Would she run for it after all?

Tanner waited.

She waited.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked finally. "We could decide after that."

"Good idea," Olivia said, but her pulse was still fluttering visibly, at her temple now as well as her throat, and her breathing was quick and shallow, raising and lowering her breasts under that soft blue sweater.

She didn't move, so it fell to Tanner to step in close, take her face in his hands and kiss her, very gently at first, then with tongue.

W
HAT WAS SHE
DOING
?
Olivia fretted, even as she stood on tiptoe so Tanner could kiss her more deeply. Sure, it had been a while since she'd had sex--ten months, to be exact, with the last man she'd dated--but it wasn't as if she were
hot to trot
or anything like that.

This...
this
was like storm chasing--venturing too close to a tornado and getting sucked in by the whirlwind. She felt both helpless and all-powerful, standing there in Tanner Quinn's dreary kitchen--helpless because she'd known even before they left Stone Creek Ranch that this would happen, and all-powerful because
damn it,
she wanted it, too.

She wanted hot, sticky, wet
sex.
And she knew Tanner could give it to her.

They kissed until her knees felt weak, and she sagged against Tanner.

Then he lifted her into his arms. "You're sure about this, Doc?"

She swallowed, nodded. "I'm sure."

Ginger raised her head, lowered it again and went back to sleep.

His room was spacious and relatively clean, though he probably hadn't made the bed since he'd moved in.
Olivia noted these things with a detached part of her brain, but her elemental, primitive side wanted to rip off her clothes as if they were on fire.

Tanner undressed her slowly, kissing her bare shoulder when he unveiled it, then her upper breast. When he tongued her right nipple, then her left, she gasped and arched her back, wanting more.

He stopped long enough to shed his suit coat and toss aside his tie.

Olivia handled the buttons and buckle and finally the zipper.

And they were both naked.

He kissed her again, eased her down on the side of the bed, knelt on the floor to kiss her belly and her thighs. "Where's the whipped cream when you need it?" he teased, his voice a low rumble against her flesh.

"Oh, God," Olivia said, because she knew what he was going to do, and because she wanted so much for him to do it.

He burrowed through the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs, found her with his mouth, suckled, gently at first, then greedily.

He made a low sound to let her know he was enjoying her, but she barely heard it over the pounding of her heart and the creaking of the bed springs as her hips rose and fell in the ancient dance.

He slid his hands under her, raised her high off the bed and feasted on her in earnest. The first orgasm broke soon after that, shattering and sudden, and so long that Olivia felt as though she were being tossed about on the head of a fiery geyser.

Just when she thought she couldn't bear the pleasure for another moment--or live without it--he allowed
her to descend. She marveled at his skill even as she bounced between one smaller, softer climax after another.

At last she landed, sated and dazed, and let out a croony sigh.

She heard the drawer on the bedside stand open and close.

"Still sure?" Tanner asked, shifting his body to reach for what he needed.

She nodded. Gave another sigh. "Oh, very sure," she said.

He turned her on the bed, slipped a pillow under her head and kissed her lightly. She clasped her hands behind his head and pulled him closer, kissed him back.

This part was for him, she thought magnanimously. She'd had her multiclimax--now it was time to be generous, let Tanner enjoy the satisfaction he'd earned.

Oh, God, had he earned it.

Except that when he eased inside her, she was instantly aroused, every cell in her body screaming with need. She couldn't do it; she couldn't come like that a second time without disintegrating--could she?

She was well into the climb, though, and there was no going back.

They shared the next orgasm, and the one after that.

And then they slept.

It was dark in the room when Olivia awakened, panic-stricken, to a strange whuff-whuff-whuff sound permeating the roof of that old house. Tanner was nowhere to be seen.

She flew out of bed, scrambled into her clothes, except for the panty hose, which she tossed into the trash--what
was
that deafening noise?--and dashed
down the back stairs into the kitchen. Ginger, on her feet and barking, paused to give her a knowing glance.

"Shut up," Olivia said, hurrying to the window.

Tanner was out there, standing in what appeared to be a floodlight, looking up. Then the helicopter landed, right there in the yard.

Olivia rubbed her eyes hard, but when she looked again, the copter was still there, black and ominous against the snow. The blades slowed and then a young girl got out of the bird, stood still. Tanner stooped as he went toward the child, put an arm around her shoulders and steered her away, toward the house.

He paused when the copter lifted off again, waved.

Sophie had arrived, Olivia realized. And in grand style, too.

"Do I look like I've just had sex?" she asked Ginger in a frantic whisper.

"I wouldn't know what you look like when you've just had sex,"
Ginger answered.
"I'm a dog, remember?"

"B
EFORE YOU START
yelling at me," Sophie said, looking up at Tanner with Kat's eyes, "can I just say hello to Butterpie?"

Tanner, torn between wishing he believed in spanking kids and a need to hold his daughter safe and close and tight, shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. "The barn's this way," he said, though it was plainly visible, and started walking.

Sophie shivered as she hurried along beside him. "We could," she said breathlessly, "just dispense with the yelling entirely and go on from there."

"Fat chance," Tanner told her.

"I'm in trouble, huh?"

"What do you think?" Tanner retorted, trying to sound stern. In truth, he was so glad to see Sophie, he hardly trusted himself to talk.

He should have woken Olivia when he got the call from Jack's pilot, he thought. Warned her of Sophie's impending arrival.

As if she could have missed hearing that helicopter.

"I think," Sophie said with the certainty of youth, "I'm really happy to be here, and if you yell at me, I can take it."

Tanner suppressed a chuckle. This was no time to be a pal. "You could have been kidnapped," he said. "The list of things that might have happened to you--"

"
Might
have," Sophie pointed out sagely. "That's the key phrase, Dad. Nothing
did
happen, except one of Uncle Jack's guys collared me at Grand Central.
That
was a tense moment, not to mention embarrassing."

Having made that statement, Sophie dashed ahead of him and into the barn, calling Butterpie's name.

By the time he flipped on the overhead lights, she was already in the stall, hugging the pony's neck.

Butterpie whinnied with what sounded like joy.

And Olivia appeared at Tanner's elbow. "We'll be going now," she said quietly, watching the reunion with a sweet smile. "Ginger and I."

"Wait," Tanner said when she would have turned away. "I want you to meet Sophie."

"This is your time, and Sophie's," Olivia said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Tomorrow, maybe."

It was a simple kiss, nothing compared to the ones they'd shared upstairs in his bedroom. Just the same, Tanner felt as though he'd stepped on a live wire. His skeleton was probably showing, like in a cartoon.

"Maybe you feel like explaining what I'm doing here at this hour," she reasoned, with a touch of humor lingering on her mouth, "but I don't."

Reluctantly Tanner nodded.

Ginger and Olivia left, without Sophie ever noticing them.

A
T HOME
, O
LIVIA
showered, donned a ragged chenille bathrobe and listened to her voice mail, just in case there was an emergency somewhere. She'd already checked her cell phone, but you never knew.

The only message was from Ashley. "Where
were
you?" her younger sister demanded. "Today was
Thanksgiving!
"

Olivia sighed, waited out the diatribe, then hit the bullet and pressed the eight key twice to connect with Ashley.

"Mountain View Bed-and-Breakfast," Ashley answered tersely. She already knew who was calling, then. Hence the tone.

"Any openings?" Olivia asked, hoping to introduce a light note.

Ashley wasn't biting. She repeated her voice mail message, almost verbatim, ending with another "Where were you?"

"There was an emergency," Olivia said. What else could she say?
I was in bed with Tanner Quinn and I had myself a hell of a fine time, thank you very much.

Suspicion, tempered by the knowledge that emergencies were a way of life with Olivia. "What kind of emergency?"

Olivia sighed. "You don't want to know," she said. It was true, after all. Ashley was a normal, healthy
woman, but that didn't mean she'd want a blow-by-blow description--so to speak--of what she and Tanner had done in his bed.

"Another cow appendectomy?" Ashley asked, half sarcastic, half uncertain.

"A clandestine operation," she said, remembering the black helicopter.
That
would give the local conspiracy theorists something to chew on for a while, if they'd seen it.

"Really? There was an operation?"

Tanner was certainly an operator, Olivia thought, so she said yes.

"And here I thought you were probably having sex with that contractor Brad hired to build the shelter," Ashley said with an exasperated little sigh.

Olivia swallowed a giggle. Spoke seriously. "Ashley O'Ballivan, why would you think a thing like that?"

"Because I saw you leave with him," Ashley answered. Her tone turned huffy again. "I wanted to tell Brad and Melissa that I've decided to look for Mom," she complained. "And I couldn't do it without you there."

Olivia sobered. "Pretty heavy stuff, when Brad and Meg had a houseful of guests, wouldn't you say?"

Ashley went quiet again.

"Ash?" Olivia prompted. "Are you still there?"

"I'm here."

"So why the sudden silence?"

Another pause. A long one that gave Olivia plenty of time to worry. Then, finally, the bomb dropped. "I think I've already found her."

"T
HIS PLACE
," S
OPHIE SAID
,
looking around at the ranch-house kitchen the next morning, "needs a woman's touch. Or maybe a crack decorating crew from HGTV or DIY."

Tanner, still half-asleep, stood at the counter pouring badly needed coffee. Between Sophie's great adventure and all that sex with Olivia, he felt disoriented, out of step with his normal world. "You watch HGTV and DIY?" he asked after taking a sip of java to steady himself.

"Doesn't everybody?" Sophie countered. "I've been thinking of flipping houses when I grow up." She looked so much like her mother, with her long, shiny hair and expressive eyes. Right now those eyes held a mixture of trepidation, exuberance and sturdy common sense.

"Trust me," Tanner said, treading carefully, finding his way over uncertain ground, because they weren't really talking about real estate and he knew it. "Flipping houses is harder than a thirty-minute TV show makes it seem."

"You should know," Sophie agreed airily, taking in the pitiful kitchen again. "You'll manage to turn this one over for a big profit, though, just like all the others."

Tanner dragged a chair back from the table and sort
of fell into it. "Sit down, Soph," he said. "We've got more important things to discuss than the lineup on your favorite TV channels."

Sophie crossed the room dramatically and dropped into a chair of her own. She'd had the pajamas she was wearing now stashed in her backpack, which showed she'd been planning to ditch the school group in New York, probably before she left Briarwood. Now she was playing it cool.

Tanner thought of Ms. Wiggins's plans to steer her into the thespian program at school, and stifled a grimace. His sister, Tessa, had been a show-business kid, discovered when she did some catalog modeling in Dallas at the age of eight. She'd done commercials, guest roles and finally joined a long-running hit TV series. As far as he was concerned, that had been the wrong road. It was as though Tessa--wonderful, smart, beautiful Tessa--had peaked at twenty-one, and been on a downhill slide ever since.

"You're mad because I ran away," Sophie said, sitting up very straight, like a witness taking the stand. She seemed to think good posture might sway the judge to decide in her favor. In any case, she was still acting.

"Mad as hell," Tanner agreed. "That was a stupid, dangerous thing to do, and don't think you're going to get away with it just because I'm so glad to see you."

The small face brightened. "
Are
you glad to see me, Dad?"

"Sophie, of course I am. I'm your father. I miss you a lot when we're apart."

She sighed and shut off the drama switch. Or at least dimmed it a little. "Most of the time," she said, "I feel like one of those cardboard statues."

Tanner frowned, confused. "Run that by me again?"

"You know, those life-size depictions you see in the video store sometimes? Johnny Depp, dressed up like Captain Jack, or Kevin Costner like Wyatt Earp, or something like that?"

Tanner nodded, but he was still pretty confounded. There was nothing two-dimensional about Sophie--she was 3-D all the way.

But did she know that?

"It's as if I'm made of cardboard as far as you're concerned," she went on thoughtfully. "When I'm around, great. When I'm not, you just tuck me away in a closet to gather dust until you want to get me out again."

Tanner's gut clenched, hard. And his throat went tight. "Soph--"

"I know you don't really think of me that way, Dad," his daughter broke in, imparting her woman-child wisdom. "But it
feels
as if you do. That's all I'm saying."

"And I'm saying I don't want you to feel that way, Soph. Ever. All I'm doing is trying to keep you safe."

"I'd rather be happy."

Another whammy. Tanner got up, emptied his cup at the sink and nonsensically filled it up again. Stood with his back to the counter, leaning a little, watching his daughter and wondering if all twelve-year-olds were as complicated as she was.

"You'll understand when you're older," he ventured.

"I understand
now,
" Sophie pressed, and she looked completely convinced. "You're the bravest man I know--you were Special Forces in the military, with Uncle Jack--but you're scared, too. You're scared I'll get hurt because of what happened to Mom."

"You can't possibly remember that very well."

Benevolent contempt. "I was
seven,
Dad. Not two." She paused, and her eyes darkened with pain. "It was awful. I kept thinking,
This can't be real, my mom can't be gone,
but she was."

Tanner went to his daughter, laid a hand on top of her head, too choked up to speak.

Sophie twisted slightly in the chair, so she could look up at him. "Here's the thing, Dad. Bad things happen to people. Good people, like you and me and Mom. You have to cry a lot, and feel really bad, because you can't help it, it hurts so much. But then you've got to go on. Mom wouldn't want us living apart like we do. I
know
she wouldn't."

He thought of the last dream-visit from Kat, and once again felt a cautious sense of peace rather than the grief he kept expecting to hit him. He also recalled the way he'd abandoned himself in Olivia's arms the day before, in his bed, and a stab of guilt pricked his conscience, small and needle sharp.

"Your mother," he said firmly, "would want what's best for you. And that's getting a first-rate education in a place where you can't be hurt."

"Get real, Dad," Sophie scoffed. "I could get hurt
anywhere,
including Briarwood."

Regrettably, that was true, but it was a whole lot less likely in a place he'd designed himself. The school was a fortress.

Or was it, as Sophie had said more than once, a prison?

You had to take the good with the bad, he decided.

"You're going back to Briarwood, kiddo," he said.

Sophie's face fell. "I could be a big help around here," she told him.

The desperation in her voice bruised him on the inside, but he had to stand firm. The stakes were too high.

"Can't I just stay until New Year's?" she pleaded.

Tanner sighed. "Okay," he said. "New Year's. Then you
have to go back.
"

"What about Butterpie?" Sophie asked, always one to press an advantage, however small. "Admit it. She hasn't been doing very well without me."

"She can go with you," Tanner said, deciding the matter as the words came out of his mouth. "It's time Briarwood had a stable, anyway. Ms. Wiggins has been hinting for donations for the last year."

"I guess that's better than a kick in the pants," Sophie said philosophically. Where did she
get
this stuff?

In spite of himself, Tanner laughed. "It's my best offer, shorty," he said. "Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it," Sophie said, being nobody's fool. "But that doesn't mean I won't try to change your mind in the meantime."

Tanner opened the refrigerator door, ferreted around for the makings of a simple breakfast. If he hadn't been so busy rolling around in the sack with Olivia yesterday afternoon, he thought, he'd have gone to the grocery store. Stocked up on kid food.

Whatever that was.

"Try all you want," he said. "My mind is made up. Go get dressed while I throw together an omelet."

"Yes, sir!" Sophie teased, standing and executing a pretty passable salute. She raced up the back stairs, presumably to rummage through her backpack, the one piece of luggage she'd brought along, for clothes. Tanner simultaneously cracked eggs and juggled the cordless phone to call Tessa.

His sister answered on the third ring, and she sounded disconsolate but game. "Hello, Tanner," she said.

No matter how she felt, Tessa always tried to be a good sport and carry on. It was a trait they shared, actually, a direct dispensation from their unsinkable grandmother, Lottie Quinn.

"Hey," he responded, whipping the eggs with a fork, since he hadn't bothered to ship his kitchen gear to Stone Creek and there was no whisk. He was going to have to go shopping, he realized, for groceries, for household stuff and for all the things Sophie would need.

Shopping,
on the busiest day of the retail year.

The thought did not appeal.

"How's Sophie?" Tessa asked, with such immediacy that for a moment Tanner thought she knew about the Great Escape. Then he realized that Tessa worried about the kid as much as he did. She disapproved of Briarwood, referring to him as an "absentee father," which never failed to get under his hide and nettle like a thorn. But she worried.

"She's here for Christmas," he said, as though he'd planned things to turn out that way. They'd need a tree, too, and lights, he reflected with half his mind, and all sorts of those hangy gewgaws to festoon the branches. Things were getting out of hand, fast, now that Hurricane Sophie had made landfall. "Why don't you join us?"

"Nobody to watch the horses," Tessa replied.

"You okay?" Tanner asked, knowing she wasn't and wishing there was one damned thing he could do about it besides wait and hope she'd tell him if she needed
help. There were probably plenty of people to look after Tessa's beloved horses--most of her friends were equine fanatics, after all--but she didn't like to ask for a hand.

Another joint inheritance from Lottie Quinn.

"Getting divorced is a bummer any time of year," she said. "Over the holidays it's a
mega
bummer. Everywhere I turn, I hear "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," or something equally depressing."

Tanner turned on the gas under a skillet and dobbed in some butter, recalling the first Christmas after Kat's death. He'd left Sophie with Tessa, checked in to a hotel and gone on a bourbon binge.

Not one of his finer moments.

When he'd sobered up, he'd sworn off the bottle and stuck to it.

"Look, Tess," he said gruffly. "Call one of those horse transport outfits and send the hay-burners out here. I've got a barn." Yeah, one that was falling down around his ears, he thought, but he owned a construction company. He could call in the crew early, the one he'd scheduled for Monday, pay them overtime for working the holiday weekend. "This is a big house, so there's plenty of room. And Sophie says the place needs a woman's touch."

Tess was quiet. "Feeling sorry for your kid sister, huh?"

"A little," Tanner said. "You're going through a tough time, and I hate that. But maybe getting away for a while would do you some good. Besides, I could use the help."

She laughed, and though it was a mere echo of the old, rich sound, it was still better than the brave resig
nation he'd heard in Tessa's voice up till then. "Sophie's still a handful, then."

"Sophie," Tanner said, "is a typhoon, followed by a tidal wave, followed by--"

"You haven't met anybody yet?"

Tanner wasn't going anywhere near that one--not yet, anyway. Sure, he'd gone to bed with one very pretty veterinarian, but they'd both agreed on the no-strings rule. "You never know what might happen," he said, too heartily, hedging.

Another pause, this one thoughtful. "I can't really afford to travel right now, Tanner. Especially not with six horses."

The eggs sizzled in the pan. Since he'd forgotten to put in chopped onions--did he even
have
an onion?--he decided he and Sophie would be having scrambled eggs for breakfast, instead of an omelet. "I can make a transfer from my account to yours, on my laptop," he said. "And I'm going to do that, Tess, whether you agree to come out to Arizona or not."

"It's hard being here," Tessa confessed bleakly. That was when he knew she was wavering. "The fight is wearing me out. Lawyers are coming out of the woodwork. I'm not even sure I want this place anymore." A short silence. Tanner knew Tess was grappling with that formidable pride of hers. "I could really bring the horses?"

"Sure," he said. "I'll make the arrangements."

"I'd rather handle that myself," Tessa said. He could tell she was trying not to cry. Once they were off the phone, she'd let the tears come. All by herself in that big Kentucky farmhouse that wasn't a home anymore. "Thanks, Tanner. As brothers go, you're not half-bad."

He chuckled. "Thanks." He was about to offer to line up one of Jack McCall's jets to bring her west, but he decided that would be pushing it. Tessa was nothing if not self-reliant, and she might balk at coming to Stone Creek at all if he didn't let her make at least some of the decisions.

Sophie clattered into the kitchen, wearing yesterday's jeans, funky boots with fake fur around the tops and a heavy cable-knit sweater. Her face shone from scrubbing, and she'd pulled her hair back in a ponytail.

"Talk to Hurricane Sophie for a minute, will you?" he asked, to give his sister a chance to collect herself. "I'm about to burn the eggs."

"Aunt Tessa?" Sophie crowed into the phone. "I'm at Dad's new place, and it's way awesome, even if it is a wreck. The wallpaper's peeling in my room, and my ceiling sags..."

Tanner rolled his eyes and set about rescuing breakfast.

"
Serious
shopping is required," Sophie went on, after listening to Tess for a few seconds. Or, more properly, waiting for her aunt to shut up so she could talk again. "But first I want to ride Butterpie. Dad's going to let me take her back to school--"

Tanner tuned out the conversation, making toast and a mental grocery list at the same time.

"When will you get here?" Sophie asked excitedly.

Tanner tuned back in. He'd forgotten to ask that question while he was on the phone with Tessa.

"You'll get here when you get here," Sophie repeated after a few beats, smiling. "Before Christmas, though, right?" Catching Tanner's eye, Sophie nodded. "Keep us updated...I love you, too...I'll tell him--bye."

Tanner lobbed partially cold eggs onto plates. "No ETA for Aunt Tessa?" he asked. He set the food on the table and then went to the counter to boot up his laptop. As soon as he'd eaten, he'd pipe some cash into his sister's depleted bank account.

"She loves you." Sophie's eyes danced with anticipation. "She said she's got some stuff to do before she comes to Arizona, but she'll definitely be here before Christmas."