On a Snowy Christmas Night (2 page)

“Are you still there?”

“What?” Hearing her mother’s impatient sigh, Shea realized she’d zoned out. “I have to get back to work, but I wanted to let you know about Christmas.”

“Wait a minute. Don’t you dare hang up. Nothing is settled.”

“Yes, it is. I’ve already booked a flight.”

“For where?”

“Montana.”

“What the hell’s in Montana?”

Shea smiled. Her mother wore Prada these days but her vernacular hadn’t changed. “I’m going to be doing volunteer work.”

“For God’s sake, Shea, we’ve got homeless people here in Phoenix. Can’t you sling hash at a shelter here?”

Jeez.
“I’m not going to be serving at a soup kitchen. It’s an animal shelter.”

“Well, I’m sure they have places like that around here. There certainly are enough mangy-looking dogs prowling the neighborhood and knocking over garbage cans. You can still change your airline ticket.”

“I could,” Shea agreed calmly, although her annoyance was climbing. “But I’m not going to. I want to do this.”

“It’s Christmas. You’re supposed to be with family.”

“Don’t take this personally, Mom. This has nothing to do with you.” Shea didn’t know why she bothered. Of course her mother took it personally. Everything was about her. “The place where I’ll be volunteering specializes in large animals. Like horses...you know how much I’ve wanted—”

“Damn right I’m taking it personally,” she said, cutting Shea off. “You spent Thanksgiving with your father and that squawking brood of his, but you won’t come to see me?”

She would not give in. Nope. Not this time. She stared at her hand, surprised that she’d started drumming her fingers on the desk. What usually came next was counting in multiples of three with each tap of her finger.

Briefly closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply and ordered herself to stop. The mild OCD had started a few years ago. She wasn’t crazy. The ritual simply helped to relieve her stress. But she’d been trying to use breathing exercises to replace it.

“Look, I’ll come for a weekend in January, okay?” Shea said, anticipating her mother’s inevitable objection. “It’ll be quieter then and we can spend more time together.”

“That won’t work for me.”

“Sorry, Mom, it’ll have to. We’ll talk more later, all right? I have to go.”

“But, Shea—”

She clenched her teeth together and forced herself to disconnect the call, acutely aware of how much she’d just royally ticked off her mother. And how desperately she needed a large number of deep breaths. But there was no other way. Shea would hate herself if she gave in now and backed out of volunteering. Not only that, but Rachel McAllister had also gone above and beyond to provide a room even though the ranch was closed for December.

As much as Shea hated having to impose, she was glad she didn’t have to mingle with other guests. Her interaction with the family would be minimal. She planned on being gone each morning before they sat down to breakfast and not returning until bedtime. The schedule suited her fine—she wanted to spend as much time at the shelter as she could. For her, animals were always easier to deal with than people.

“Hey, you.”

At the sound of Nancy’s voice, she brought her head up. The sharply dressed marketing director stood in the doorway, a black leather briefcase in one hand, a red designer purse nearly as big in the other.

“I thought everyone had left already,” Shea said, wondering if any coworkers had overheard her phone conversation. They’d be surprised at her taking such a strong stand. But hey, she was the new Shea.

“The gang from Contracts went to O’Malley’s pub. We’re meeting them over there. Pack up and let’s go.”

“Oh.” Shea shifted her gaze to her watch, the familiar squeeze of dread bringing her shoulders down. “Maybe next time. I still have some work to catch up on.”

“Nobody works late this close to Christmas. Besides, tonight is trivia, and we need you on the team.” Nancy’s glossy peach lips lifted in challenge.

Shea stared helplessly at her monitor screen, biting her lip, trying to think of a graceful way out. She did enjoy the trivia, but the rest of it? It was difficult to be with a group like that, especially when they thought she had no sense of humor, and they called her Spock. She was sure they thought it was funny, but just because she was different didn’t mean she didn’t have feelings.

“Hey.” Sympathy warmed Nancy’s eyes. “You love showing up all those nerds from accounting.”

One victory was enough for the day, although she appreciated the invitation. “Another time, okay?”

“If you change your mind...”

She wouldn’t. She rarely did.

2

H
ER
HANDS
CRAMPED
from holding the steering wheel so tightly, Shea saw the sign indicating the Sundance Ranch and drove her rented SUV down the gravel driveway. The sky was overcast, the nearby mountaintops covered with snow, but fortunately there was none on the ground.

Thank God.

She’d forgotten about the whole snow issue. Her adult life had been spent in California and only twice had she driven in anything worse than a good downpour. When the rental agent had assured her that the Toyota was equipped with snow tires and four-wheel drive, but asked if she knew how to put chains on her tires, she’d about had a stroke. Only then did she consider that she should’ve researched Montana weather before committing to the shelter.

That was the kind of obvious stuff that went clear over her head. She was like her father in that regard. A soaring IQ and not enough common sense. No, her father won that round—at least Shea hadn’t married someone she’d known for only two minutes.

A bunch of buildings came into view but it was the house that Shea focused on. She remembered the description from the website and knew the original log cabin had been two stories, was over a hundred and fifty years old and various renovations and additions over the generations had expanded the residence.

Still, knowing what she did hadn’t prepared her. The place was huge, three stories with two separate wings, the front of the house facing the Rockies. As she got closer she saw the windows, large expanses of glass that would allow perfects views.

Spirals of smoke rose from the dark green roof and disappeared into the gray sky. There were at least three fireplaces going. She loved fireplaces for the crackling sound burning wood made and for toasting marshmallows. But this wasn’t really a vacation, she reminded herself, and she had no intention of imposing on the family. When she wasn’t at the shelter she’d be sticking to her room. The McAllisters had been good enough to take her in when they should be celebrating the holidays alone, as a family. That’s what this time of year was for.

Or so she’d been told a time or two. She had no practical experience in the matter. Even when her parents had been married, the atmosphere at home hadn’t been particularly cozy. Her father was a workaholic and her mother a shopaholic. Shea had gotten a lot of studying done. Later, when she’d been sent to boarding school, she hadn’t minded at all. Going home for the holidays? That hadn’t always worked out so well.

There seemed to be two areas for parking, one closer to the house, the other a grassy brown spot next to a large building that was probably the stables. She slowed the SUV, then saw a young woman step outside onto the porch that wrapped around both corners of the house.

Bundled in a green down jacket, the auburn-haired woman, who Shea would bet was Rachel, smiled and waved. After gesturing for Shea to park on the grass, she rubbed her hands together and blew on them before stuffing them into the pockets of her worn jeans.

Behind her the front door opened again. Another woman—older, shorter—appeared, followed by a tall man with longish dark hair. Shea couldn’t see him clearly, for one thing she was too busy parking and trying not to demolish the building. Plus, her pulse had sped up and her hands had grown clammy.

What was this, the welcoming committee? It was hard enough meeting strangers and now she felt as if she were suddenly on a stage. Maybe it was a dude ranch tradition...the whole family greeting the new guest. She shuddered. Weird. This was precisely why staying at a B and B had never appealed to her. People expected conversation and small talk. Definitely not her strong suit.

Bracing herself, she put the SUV in Park and turned off the ignition. She grabbed her purse and opened the door. The sound of an engine confused her for a second. She looked at the keys in her hand.

The noise was coming from behind, she realized, and twisted around to see that a huge black pickup had followed her down the driveway. With the windows rolled up and the heater going, she hadn’t heard it. The driver parked closer to the house and it was quickly apparent that Shea wasn’t the reason everyone had rushed to the porch, and she had to laugh at her own paranoia. At least she could see the humor in it now. Climbing out of the car, she smiled as the younger woman approached her and the other two converged on the truck.

“Shea Monroe, right?” she said, grinning, and Shea nodded. “I’m Rachel. We spoke when you made your reservation.” The woman extended her hand.

“Yes, I remember.” Shea started to pull off her glove but Rachel stopped her.

“Don’t. It’s freezing.” Rachel laughed and squeezed Shea’s gloved hand. “At least I had enough sense to grab my jacket.”

“Thanks again for giving me a room. I swear I’ll be no trouble.”

“Hey, we’re big supporters of Safe Haven. It’s so nice of you to give up your holidays to volunteer. My brother works with them quite a bit and occasionally we foster horses.”

Shea’s gaze automatically went to the man and the older woman who stood beside the truck. He was very nice-looking, about her age, she guessed.

“That’s Trace over there with our mom,” Rachel said. “He’s one of the hooligans but not the one I was talking about.” The new arrivals, a man and a woman, stepped out of the truck and Rachel waved frantically at them. “That’s my other brother Cole and his girlfriend, Jamie. He just picked her up at the airport. She’s come to spend Christmas with us.”

“Oh, you have two brothers. How nice,” Shea said, and when Rachel gave her a quizzical look she just smiled. No, she wasn’t a sparkling conversationalist, so better everyone know now.

“I have three.” Rachel studied her a moment. “You probably noticed them on the website....”

“Oh, right.” She wasn’t in the habit of lying, but having noticed her brothers seemed to mean something to Rachel so Shea didn’t see the harm in the small fib.

Rachel titled her head slightly to the side, amusement dancing in her bright green eyes. “Or maybe not. It doesn’t matter. I’ll help with your bags and then you can meet everyone.”

“No, please, go be with your family. I’ll be along in a minute.”

“No worries. I’ll see them later.” Rachel swung around to the back of the SUV. “How many bags? I can get Trace to—”

“That’s not necessary,” Shea said, cutting her off then feeling ashamed for being rude. She cleared her throat. “Thanks, but I don’t have much and I need to do some rearranging before I come in.” She paused. “If that’s okay?”

“Sure. I didn’t mean to rush you. Take all the time you need.” Rachel lightly touched her arm, the understanding in her eyes a bit unnerving. “We can be a boisterous bunch, but I promise we don’t bite.”

Shea managed a grateful nod before Rachel turned away, then felt her face flame. She hated the random attacks of shyness that plagued her when she was around too many people. Quickly, she opened the back hatch and busied herself with sifting through her suitcase. A few things, such as her heavy boots and mittens, could stay in the back of the car. No sense lugging them back and forth to the house. She’d need them at the shelter, not here.

Her gaze drifted toward the animated group as they chatted and laughed, grabbing luggage and totes full of wrapped presents from the back of the truck. Cole was tall and dark like Trace, with hair that brushed his collar. And the honey-blonde woman, Cole’s girlfriend, was very pretty. She seemed comfortable with the family, as if she’d known them for a long time.

Shea couldn’t help but be a little envious of the lively group. The men not so much, but the three women were gabbing as if there wasn’t enough time to get everything in. Good for them. But being an outsider was fine with her. Comfortable. Familiar.

She had the strangest feeling that someone was watching her and turned to scan the outer building. An indistinct rider was galloping in from the south. Appearing oblivious to the cold, a pair of beautiful roans munched hay from a bale in the corral. It was close to dinnertime so she wasn’t surprised that there were no workers in sight. The only other sign of humanity was smoke streaming out of the smokestack of one of the brick-and-wood buildings, probably the bunkhouse.

She started to turn back to sorting when she saw him under the archway to the barn. She’d almost missed him, standing in the shadows, lean and tall—well over six feet. He wore faded jeans, a brown flannel shirt, boots and work gloves, and he stared out, though not at her. His attention was on the family, who now headed toward the front steps.

She couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from him. He could’ve been a McAllister. He had the same coloring, the height, the same dark hair as the two brothers, except his was much shorter, almost a military cut. But that wasn’t what made her doubt he was one of the brothers, it was the way he held himself back from the group. Like an outsider idly looking on...like she had.

Maybe he was one of the hired hands. Very good-looking, at any rate. Just an observation. It wasn’t that she was interested. She was totally done with men. They weren’t worth the aggravation. Even sex was overrated in her opinion. Focusing on her work gave her far more satisfaction. And she hoped her time at the shelter would help fill her need to connect with another living, breathing being. Preferably a horse. She loved horses, always had.

Shea smiled as she thought about all the childhood letters she’d written to Santa asking for a pony. But all she’d ever gotten were silly froufrou dresses from her mother and educational toys from her father. Oh, and that trip to Disneyland when she was nine. Her parents had argued the entire time and divorced three months later.

A week after her father had moved out of the house, Shea had asked for a dog, but her mother had refused what she deemed an “added burden.” It had probably been for the best. The way Shea had accelerated though prep school and then college, she’d never really had time to care for a pet. But she was seriously considering adopting a dog now. She still worked ungodly hours, but maybe she could trade her corner office for a kennel on the first floor. After all, other employees were provided day care for their kids.

The family had disappeared inside and the man from the barn had disappeared, too. If she didn’t hurry, she knew Rachel would send someone after her. Shea swung her suitcase out of the back, then hurried toward the porch. All she wanted was for someone to point out her room, where she could hibernate until it was time to head to the shelter in the morning.

* * *

J
ESSE
STOMPED
the dried dirt off his boots outside the mudroom door, then entered the small space that led to the kitchen. His eyes were gritty and he still hadn’t gotten all the filth off his hands even though he’d been wearing gloves and had washed up some in the barn. He didn’t care. Manual labor was exactly what he’d needed. His back and shoulder muscles were pleasantly sore and just maybe he’d get a full night’s sleep.

“Good. You’re here,” Rachel said before he’d opened the kitchen door all the way. She ran her gaze down the front of his shirt and jeans and wrinkled her nose. “What have you been doing?”

“Cleaning out the barn shed. We had too much equipment packed in there.”

“God. Go take a shower. We have guests.”

“Jamie will be here a whole week. And she came to see Cole, not us.”

“I wasn’t thinking only of Jamie but of Shea, too.” Rachel opened the oven and the spicy smell of lasagna filled the kitchen.

His stomach growled. “What about her?”

“Cool the attitude. It’s not as if she’s a regular guest,” Rachel said, throwing him an annoyed look while pulling on oven mitts. “She’s going to be at the shelter most of the time and only here to sleep. So if you’re still pissy about me taking her in, get over it.”

“I don’t care who’s here. I doubt I’ll be around much myself.”

The sudden hurt in Rachel’s eyes made him look away. She said nothing, but concentrated on taking the steaming dish out of the oven.

“I’ll go take that shower,” he murmured and kept walking.

“Jesse?”

He wanted to ignore her. He wished he hadn’t made that unnecessary crack about not being around. “What do you want, squirt?”

She didn’t react to the hated childhood nickname. “It’s almost Christmas. You know how much the holidays mean to Mom.”

“I’m not gonna mess anything up, okay?”

“Not on purpose you wouldn’t.”

Sighing, he briefly closed his eyes and rubbed them with the heels of his hand. “What do you want from me, Rachel? I cut down the trees for the living room and the den, strung the lights along the eves. I’m here. I’m participating.”

Except he wasn’t really here, not emotionally. That’s what Rachel was getting at, even though she managed to give him a small smile. “I know, Jesse. You’ve been great about helping us decorate. You have far more patience than Cole or Trace for that sort of thing.”

He tugged at a tendril of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “Shower first, then I’ll help set the table.”

“I have something else I’d rather you do,” she said quickly.

“What’s that?”

“Shea is staying in the guest wing. First room on the right. Knock on her door and tell her dinner will be ready in ten.”

He opened his mouth to refuse, then just nodded. Hell, he didn’t have to be in a hospitable mood to knock on a door.

“And don’t take no for an answer,” Rachel added, wagging a wooden spoon at him. “I’m holding you responsible.”

Jesus, his sister could be a pain in the ass. He waved her off, headed out of the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time to the second floor. Voices and laughter came from the den and he thought about yanking Trace away to go get the woman. But that wouldn’t be fair. Besides, once he showed his face he’d have to acknowledge Jamie, then make small talk.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Cole’s girlfriend—he did. He was glad they’d hooked up. His brother couldn’t have done better. But there would be enough time for socializing at dinner. The forty minutes of mindless pleasantries seemed to be as much as Jesse could handle lately.

He’d peeled off his clothes, showered and shampooed in nine minutes, then stood at the woman’s door, trying like hell to recall her name. Didn’t matter. Basically, he was only delivering a message.