Chapter Nine
She didn’t have a chance to test her resolve, simply because she didn’t see Flynn again for longer than a moment or two over the next few days.
At the Thursday rehearsal, he merely dropped Olivia off and left after making sure to give Hope—not Celeste—a card with his cell phone number on it.
She supposed she should take that as some sort of progress. From what she gathered, he hadn’t let Olivia out of his sight since the accident. She had to feel good that he felt comfortable enough with her and her family to leave the girl at The Christmas Ranch without him.
On the other hand, she had to wonder if maybe he was just trying to avoid her.
That really made no logical sense. Why would he feel any sort of need to avoid her? He wasn’t the one who was developing feelings that could never go anywhere.
Still, she had to wonder, especially when he did the same thing Saturday morning for their final practice before the performance, just dropping Olivia off as most of the other parents had done.
She should be grateful he’d brought the girl at all, especially when he obviously wasn’t thrilled about the whole thing.
It was too bad, really, because Olivia was a natural in front of an audience. She seemed far more comfortable onstage than the other children.
The performance was nothing elaborate, a rather hodgepodge collection of short Christmas skits mixed with songs and poems, but considering the few practices they’d had, the show came together marvelously.
When they finished the second run-through Saturday morning, Celeste clapped her hands.
“That was amazing!” she exclaimed. “I’m so proud of each one of you for all your hard work. You are going to make some people very, very happy next week.”
Jolie Wheeler raised her hand. “Can we take the costumes home to show our moms and dads?”
None of the costumes was anything fancy, just bits and pieces she and Hope had thrown together with a little help from Faith and a few of the parents. “We need to keep them here so we can make sure everyone has all the pieces—the belts and halos and crowns—they need for the performance. When you take them off, put your costume on the hanger and everything else in the bag with your name on it in the dressing room. Remember, you will all have to be here at five thirty sharp so we can get into costume and be ready for the show. We’ll have the performance first, and then you are all welcome with your families to stay for dinner with our guests, if you’d like. There should be plenty of food for everyone.”
“Then can we take the costumes home?” Jolie asked.
She smiled at the adorable girl. “We need to keep them here just in case we decide to do another show at The Christmas Ranch next year.”
“Rats,” Jolie complained and a few others joined her in grumbling. What they wanted to do with a few hokey costumes, Celeste had no idea, but she had to smile at their disappointment.
“You’ll all just have to be in the show next year so you can wear them again,” she said.
Not that she intended to be part of it, even if Hope begged her. Writing the little show had taken her almost as long as a full-fledged children’s book.
“Thank you all again for your hard work, and I’ll see you Tuesday evening at five thirty if you need help with your hair and makeup.”
The children dispersed to the boys’ and girls’ dressing rooms—really just separate storage spaces that had been temporarily converted for the show. She cleaned up the rehearsal space and supervised the pickup of the children.
Finally, only Louisa, Barrett, Joey and Olivia were left. They didn’t seem to mind. Indeed, they had gone to the game drawer Hope kept in her office to keep the children occupied when they were hanging out at the lodge and were playing a spirited game of Go Fish with a Christmas-themed deck of cards.
Though she had a hundred things to—including finishing the paint job on the backdrop for the little stage they had rigged up—she sat down at the table near the refreshment booth where they were playing.
“You did so well today. All of you.”
“Thanks,” Louisa said. “It’s really fun. I hope we do it again next year.”
Not unless Hope found some other sucker to be in charge, she thought again.
“I’ve had lots of fun, too,” Olivia said. “Thanks for inviting me to do it.”
“You’re very welcome. How are things going at your great-grandmother’s house?”
As soon as she asked the question, she wished she hadn’t. It sounded entirely too much as if she was snooping. She might as well have come out and asked when they were leaving.
“Good, I guess. We have two more rooms to do. My dad said we’ll probably go back to California between Christmas and New Year’s.”
She tried to ignore the sharp pang in her chest. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to be back in your own house.”
“You’re lucky! You can go swimming in the ocean,” Louisa said.
“Sometimes. Mostly, it’s too cold, except in summer.”
“And you can go to Disneyland whenever you want,” Joey added.
“No, I can’t,” she protested. “I have to go to school and stuff.”
They talked more about the differences between their respective homes. Olivia was quite envious that they could ride horses and go sledding all winter long while the other children thought California was only palm trees and beaches.
While the seasonal staff of The Christmas Ranch started arriving and getting ready for the busiest day of their season, the children continued their game, and Celeste sat at the table next to them working on a drawing for a complicated part of the stage she was hoping Rafe could help her finish later that day.
Finally, about forty-five minutes after practice ended, Flynn burst through the front doors looking harried. “Sorry I’m late. I was taking a load of things to the county landfill and it took longer than I expected.”
“Don’t even worry about it. The kids have been enjoying themselves. Haven’t you?”
“Yep,” Barrett said. “’Cause I won Go Fish three times and Joey and Olivia both won once. Louisa didn’t win any.”
“Next time, watch out,” his sister declared.
Flynn smiled at the girl, that full-fledged charming smile Celeste remembered from when he was a teenager. She had to swallow hard and force herself to look away, wondering why it suddenly felt so warm in the lodge.
“How was practice?” he asked.
“Good,” she answered. “Great, actually. Everyone worked so hard.”
“I can’t wait for you to see the show, Dad,” Olivia declared. “It’s going to be so good. Celeste says all the ladies will cry.”
He looked vaguely alarmed. “Is that right? Will I cry, too? I’d better bring a big hankie, just in case.”
She giggled hard, then in the funny way kids have, she looked at Barrett and Louisa and something in their expressions made her laugh even harder, until all three were busting up. Their laughter was infectious and Celeste couldn’t help smiling.
* * *
Flynn gazed at the three children, certain he was witnessing a miracle.
This was really his daughter, looking bright and animated and...happy.
This was the daughter he remembered, this girl who found humor in the silliest things, who was curious about the world around her and loved talking with people. He’d feared she was gone forever, stolen by a troubled man who had taken so much else from her.
Seeing her sitting at a table in the St. Nicholas Lodge, laughing with Celeste and her niece and nephew, he wanted to hug all three of the children. Even more, he wanted to kiss Celeste right on that delicious-looking mouth of hers that had haunted his dreams for days.
Her smiling gaze met his and a wave of tenderness washed over him. She had done this. He didn’t know how. She had seen a sad, wounded girl and had worked some kind of Sparkle magic on her to coax out the sweet and loving girl Olivia used to be.
Her smile slid away and he realized he was staring. He drew in a deep breath and forced himself to look away.
His gaze landed on a piece of paper with what looked like a complicated drawing. “I didn’t know you were an artist.”
She looked embarrassed. “I’m so not an artist, Hope is. I’m just trying to work up a sketch I can show Rafe. I’m trying to figure out how to build wings on the side of the stage so the children have somewhere to wait offstage. There’s no time to sew curtains. I just need some sort of screen to hide them from view.
He studied her sketch, then took the paper from her and made a few quick changes. “That shouldn’t be hard,” he said. “You just have to build a frame out of two-by-fours and then use something lightweight like particle board for your screen. If it’s hinged and connected there, it should be solid and also portable enough that you can store it somewhere when you’re not using it.”
She studied the drawing. “Wow. That’s genius! You know, I think that just might work. Can you just write down what supplies you think it might need? Rafe will be back from Jackson Hole shortly, and I can put him to work on it if he has time.”
He glanced at the stage, then at his daughter, still smiling as she played cards with the other two children. Though he knew he would probably regret it—and he certainly had plenty of things still to take care of at Charlotte’s house—he spoke quickly before he could change his mind.
“If you’ve got some tools I can use and the two-by-fours, I can probably get the frame for it done in no time.”
She stared at him, green eyes wide behind those sexy glasses she wore. “Seriously?”
He shrugged. “I started out in carpentry. It’s kind of what I do. This shouldn’t be hard at all—as long as Olivia doesn’t mind hanging around a little longer.”
“Yay!” Louisa exclaimed. “She can come to the house and decorate the sugar cookies we made last night with Aunt Celeste while our mom was Christmas shopping.”
Olivia looked suitably intrigued. “I’ve never decorated sugar cookies.”
“Never?” Celeste exclaimed. She looked surprised enough that Flynn felt a pinch of guilt. Apparently this was another area where he had failed his daughter.
Olivia shook her head. “Is it hard?”
“No way,” Louisa answered. “It’s easy and super, super fun. You can decorate the cookies any way you want. There’s no right or wrong. You can use sparkly sugar or M&M’s or frosting or whatever you want.”
“The best part is, when you mess it up, you get to eat your mistakes,” Barrett added. “Nobody even cares. I mess up a lot.”
Olivia snickered and Flynn had a feeling she would be messing up plenty, too. What was it with all these Christmas traditions that filled kids with more sugar when they least needed another reason to be excited?
He had struck out miserably when it came to Christmas traditions this year. At least they had the little Christmas tree at his grandmother’s house for decoration, but that was about it.
Olivia had insisted she hoped Santa Claus wouldn’t come that year, but he had disregarded her wishes and bought several things online for her. A few other presents would be waiting back in California, sort of a delayed holiday, simply because the new bike her physical therapist suggested was too big for the journey here in his SUV.
Next year would be different, he told himself. By this time next year they would be established in a routine back in California. They could hang stockings and put up a tree of their own and decorate all the sugar cookies she wanted, even if he had to order ready-made plain cookies from his favorite bakery.
The idea of returning to a routine after the stress of the past few months should have been appealing. Instead, it left him remarkably unenthused.
“May I go, Dad? I really, really, really want to decorate cookies.”
He was torn between his desire to keep her close and his deep relief that she was so obviously enjoying the company of other children. She would enjoy the cookie decorating far more than she would enjoy sitting around and watching him work a band saw.
“Are you sure your aunt won’t mind one more?” he asked Celeste.
“Are you kidding? Mary loves a crowd. The more the merrier, as far as she’s concerned.” She smiled a little. “And look at it this way. You’ll probably come out of the whole thing with cookies to take home.”
“Well, in that case, how can I say no? A guy always needs a few more cookies.”
“Yay! I can go,” Olivia told the other children as if they hadn’t been right there to hear her father’s decision.
“Put the cards away first and then get your coats on. Then you can walk up to the house.”
“You’re not coming?” Olivia asked.
“I’ll be up later,” she answered with a smile. “But first I have to finish painting some of the scenery.”
The children cleaned up the cards and returned them to a little tin box, then put on their coats, hats and mittens. As soon as they were on their way, Celeste turned to him with a grateful smile. She looked so fresh and lovely that for a crazy moment, he wished they were alone in the lodge with that big crackling fire.
Instead, an older woman was setting out prepackaged snacks in what looked like a concessions area and another one was arranging things on a shelf in a gift store. Outside the windows, he could see families beginning to queue up to buy tickets.
“Is there somewhere I can get going on this? A workshop or something?”
“Oh.” She looked flustered suddenly and he wondered if something in his expression revealed the fierce attraction simmering through him. “Yes. There’s a building behind back where Rafe keeps his tools. That’s where I’ve been painting the scenery, too. I’ll show you.”
She led the way through the lodge to a back door. They walked through the pale winter sunshine to a modern-looking barn a short distance away.
In a pasture adjacent to the barn, he saw several more reindeer as well as some draft horses.
“This is where we keep the reindeer at night during the holiday season,” she explained. “There’s Sparkle. Do you see him?”
As far as he could tell all the reindeer looked the same, but he would take her word for it. “Is he feeling better?”
“Much. Apparently he only wanted a few days off.”
“Olivia will be happy to hear that.”
“He’ll need his strength. This afternoon and evening will be crazy busy.”
“For the reindeer, too?” he asked, fascinated by the whole idea of an entire operation devoted only to celebrating the holidays.
“Yes. Hope will probably hook them up to the sleigh for photo ops and short rides. The draft horses, of course, will be taking people on sleigh rides around the ranch, which is a highlight of the season. You should take Olivia. She would love it. It’s really fun riding through the cold, starry night all bundled up in blankets.”
It did sound appealing—especially if he and Celeste were alone under those blankets...
He jerked his brain back to the business at hand. He really needed to stop this.
“We’re only open a few more nights,” she said. “But if you want to take her, let me know and I’ll arrange it.”
As much as he thought Olivia would enjoy the sleigh ride, he wasn’t at all certain that spending more time at The Christmas Ranch with Celeste and her appealing family would be good for either of them.
“We’ll see,” he said, unwilling to commit to anything. “Shall we get to it?”
“Right. Of course.”
She led him into a well-lit, modern building with stalls along one wall. The rest seemed to be taken up with storage and work space.
She led him to an open area set up with a band saw, a reciprocating saw, a router and various other power tools, as well as a stack of two-by-fours and sheets of plywood.
“You might not need to have Rafe run to the lumber yard. You might have everything here.”
“Great.”
She pointed to another area of the barn where other large pieces of plywood had been painted with snowflakes. “I need to finish just a few things on the scenery, so I’ll be on hand if you need help with anything.”
The best help she could offer would be to stay out of his way. She was entirely too tempting to his peace of mind, but he couldn’t figure out a way to say that without sounding like an idiot, so he just decided to focus on the job at hand.
“Do you mind if I turn on some music?” she asked.
“That’s fine,” he answered. Her place, her music.
It wasn’t Christmas music, he was happy to hear. Instead, she found some classic-rock station and soon The Eagles were harmonizing through the barn from a speaker system in the work area.
She returned to her side of the area and started opening paint cans and gathering brushes, humming along to the music. Though he knew he needed to get started, he couldn’t seem to look away.
He liked watching her. She seemed to throw herself into everything she did, whether that was directing a ragtag group of children in a Christmas show, telling stories to a bunch of energetic school kids or writing a charming story about a brave reindeer.
He was fascinated with everything about her.
He had to get over it, he told himself sternly. He needed to help build her set, finish clearing out his grandmother’s house and then go back to his normal life in California.
He turned his attention to the pile of lumber and found the boards he would need. Then he spent a moment familiarizing himself with another man’s work space and the tools available to him. Rafe Santiago kept a clean, well-organized shop. He would give him that.
The moment he cut the first board, he felt more centered than he had in a long time. He was very good at building things. It gave him great satisfaction to take raw materials and turn them into something useful, whether that was a piece of furniture or a children’s hospital.
For nearly an hour, they worked together in a comfortable silence broken only by the sounds of tools and the music. He made good progress by doing his best to pretend she wasn’t there, that this growing attraction simmering through him would burn itself out when it no longer had the fuel of her presence to sustain it.
The barn was warmer than he would have expected, especially with the air compressor going to power the tools, and soon he was down to his T-shirt. Before she started painting, she had taken off the sweater she wore, but it wasn’t until he took a break and looked up from connecting two boards that he saw the message on it: Wake up Smarter. Sleep With a Librarian.
For an instant his mind went completely blank as all the blood left his head at the image. Unfortunately, his finger twitched on the trigger of the unfamiliar nail gun, which was far more reactive than any of the guns he was used to.
He felt a sharp biting pain as the nail impaled the webbing between the forefinger and thumb of his left hand to the board. He swore and ripped out the nail, mortified at his stupidity.
It wasn’t the first time he’d had an accident with a nail gun or a power tool—in his line of work, nobody made it through without nicks and bruises and a few stitches here or there, especially starting out—but it was completely embarrassing. He hadn’t made that kind of rookie mistake in years. Apparently, she wasn’t very good for his concentration.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Nothing. It’s fine.” It was, really. The nail hadn’t gone through anything but skin.
“You’re bleeding. Let me see.”
“It’s just a poke. Hazard of the job.”
“I think Rafe keeps a first-aid kit somewhere in here.” She started rifling through cabinets until she found one.
“I don’t need anything. It’s almost stopped bleeding.”
It still burned like hell, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.
“I’ll feel better if you let me at least clean it up.”
“Really, not necessary.”
She ignored him and stepped closer, bringing that delicious springtime scent with her that made him think of sunlit mornings and new life.
“Hold out your hand.”
Since he was pretty certain she wouldn’t let up until he cooperated, he knew he had no choice but to comply. Feeling stupid, he thrust out his arm. She took his injured hand in both of hers and dabbed at it with a wipe she’d found inside the kit.
“It’s not bad,” she murmured. “I don’t think you’re going to need stitches.”
He did his best to keep his gaze fiercely away from that soft T-shirt that had caused the trouble in the first place—and the curves beneath it.
The gentle touch of her fingers on his skin made him want to close his eyes and lean into her. It had been so long since he’d known that kind of aching sweetness.
She smiled a little. “Do you remember that time I fell on my bike in front of your grandmother’s house?”
“Yes.” His voice sounded a little ragged around the edges, but he had to hope she didn’t notice.
“You were so sweet to me,” she said with soft expression as she applied antiseptic cream to the tiny puncture wound. “I couldn’t even manage to string two words together around you, but you just kept up a steady stream of conversation to make me feel more comfortable until my aunt Mary could come pick me up. I was so mortified, but you made it feel less horrible.”
He swallowed. He’d done that? He didn’t have much memory of it, only of a quiet girl with big eyes and long dark hair.
“Why would you be mortified? It was an accident.”
She snorted a little. “Right. I ran into your grandmother’s mailbox because I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. It was all your fault for mowing the lawn without your shirt on.”
He stared down at her. “That’s why you crashed?”
She looked up and he saw shadows of remembered embarrassment there. “In my defense, I was thirteen years old, you were a much older boy and I already had a huge crush on you. It’s a wonder I could say a word.”
“Is that right?” he asked softly. Her fingers felt so good on his skin, her luscious mouth was right there and he wanted nothing but to find a soft spot of hay somewhere for the two of them to collapse into.
“Yes,” she murmured, and he saw answering awareness in her eyes. “And then you made it so much worse by being so kind, cleaning me up, calling my aunt, then fixing my bike for me. What shy, awkward bookworm alive could have resisted that, when the cutest boy she’d ever met in real life was so sweet to her?”
He didn’t want to be sweet right now. At her words, hunger growled to life inside him, and he knew he would have to appease it somehow.
Just a kiss, he told himself. A simple taste and then they both could move on.
He lowered his mouth and felt her hands tremble when his lips brushed hers.
She tasted just as delicious as he would have imagined, sweet and warm and luscious, like nibbling at a perfectly ripe strawberry.
She froze for just a moment, long enough for him to wonder if he’d made a terrible error in judgment, and then her mouth softened and she kissed him back with a breathy sigh, as if she had been waiting for this since that day half a lifetime ago.
Her hands fluttered against his chest for just a moment, then wrapped around his neck, and he pulled her closer, delighting in her soft curves and the aching tenderness of the kiss.