His Christmas Sweetheart. Cathy McDavid

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His Christmas Sweetheart - Cathy  McDavid


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still works as a nurse, and Dad’s a stay-at-home Mr. Mom. I have two new foster sisters, nine-year-old twins.”

      “How many altogether?”

      “Foster siblings? Eight. And my parents love every one of us like their own. They’re pretty amazing people.”

      “I’d say.”

      “What about your parents? Are they in the Tahoe area?”

      “No.”

      “Another state?”

      “No.”

      His short replies were no doubt intended to put her off, but they only served to make her more curious. Will was a puzzle, and Miranda had a fondness for puzzles. “I take it you aren’t close to them.”

      He waited a beat before answering. “They’re dead. They were killed in an accident.”

      She nearly jumped at the jolt that shot through her, and pressed a hand to her middle. The sundae in her stomach sat like a heavy stone.

      “I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t imagine the horror of losing both her parents at once. “How awful for you.”

      He looked at her across the table, emotion once again flaring in his eyes. Not heat and definitely not passion. Anger perhaps? Remorse?

      “It was more awful for them,” he ground out.

      “When did it happen? How old were you?”

      Standing, he announced, “I have to go,” and let in a gust of cold air as he exited the parlor, which reached Miranda clear on her side of the room. She waited a minute before collecting her things.

      Will was even more complex than she’d originally thought. And more damaged. She’d be smart to leave him be, as he clearly wasn’t ready for any kind of romantic relationship.

      Except Miranda didn’t think she could. She wasn’t just attracted to him or challenged by him, she was fond of him. Growing fonder by the day. He was like no man she’d ever met.

      Outside she glanced up and down the street. Her car was parked two blocks away, near the bank. Seeing the building’s brick facade, she was again reminded of her financial dilemma. Determination surged inside her. She wasn’t one to let a minor setback derail her from her goals. If she needed extra money to keep her business afloat, she’d get it. One way or the other.

      Setting off, she strode confidently toward the Paydirt Saloon. During college when she’d come home for the summers, she’d worked part-time at the Paydirt, earning extra money to supplement her scholarships.

      The mayor was clearing tables amid the sparse gathering of afternoon regulars. Behind the bar, the mayor’s son washed glassware. Both issued her a friendly hello.

      “What can I get you today?” the mayor asked when Miranda approached.

      Without hesitating, she relieved the mayor of the tray she was holding and reached for the towel on the table. “A job. Even a few hours a week if that’s all you have.”

      Mayor Dempsey studied her critically.

      Miranda braced herself for a slew of questions. Why did she need a job? What about her elder-care home? What made Miranda think there was a position available when employment in Sweetheart was as scarce as crow’s teeth? She also braced herself for rejection.

      To her overwhelming relief, the mayor’s expression softened. “I assume you can start today.”

      * * *

      “YOU ABLE TO ride with that bum wrist?” Sam asked.

      Will tugged the cinch tighter and looped the excess strap into a tight knot. Gripping the pommel and back of the seat, he tugged and demonstrated how little his injury bothered him by testing the saddle’s stability.

      Rocket Dog, a stout, sassy four-year-old mare that had originally belonged to Will’s former employer, High Country Outfitters, pawed the ground in anticipation. This one liked the cold weather and the challenge of climbing steep frost-covered hills. She was a perfect match for Will’s current mood.

      “Why aren’t you taking one of the ATVs?” Sam leaned against the corral fence and crossed his arms over his chest.

      Will double-checked the maps in his saddlebags and his supplies. Two bottles of water, a thermos of black coffee and a protein bar. That should be enough to last the morning.

      “Some of the trails I want to mark are blocked by fallen timber.”

      Easier to ride a horse over the obstructions than drive an ATV around them. In his opinion anyway.

      “I’m thinking you have enough trails already marked. We don’t have many skiers making reservations.”

      “Could change.”

      He wasn’t one to oppose his boss, and if Sam insisted, he’d cancel the outing or take an ATV. In truth, the ride was more for him than work related. Will needed the solitude and the feel of a horse beneath him. The more he was in the company of others, the more tangled his thoughts became. Alone he could sort them out and compartmentalize them. Less likely to plague him that way.

      Why had he told Miranda his parents had died? No one in Sweetheart knew that about him. Not even Sam.

      For the past two days, his and Miranda’s conversation in the ice-cream parlor had replayed over and over in his mind, affecting his every waking moment. All he could see was her eating that damn sundae and him revealing the darkest of many dark moments from his past.

      “Don’t forget a poncho,” Sam advised.

      Both men glanced at the sky. Clouds had been gathering since dawn. They weren’t yet heavy with snow, but weather this time of year was unreliable at best.

      “Got one.”

      “The contest winners and their families are arriving tomorrow afternoon. I’d like to introduce you to them once they’re registered and settled into their cabins. Over dinner. The following morning you can give them a tour of the ranch.”

      “Sure.”

      The dining hall wasn’t scheduled for construction until spring. In the meantime, guests were served family-style meals in the kitchen of the main house. Hearty country breakfasts every morning comprised the usual fare, with the occasional dinner. Like tomorrow, in honor of their special guests. Most people seemed to enjoy sitting at the same table as the cast members of the show The Forty-Niners once had.

      Will’s presence at a meal had only been requested once before. When his boss had gotten married.

      He and his bride had looked happy that day. Sometimes when Sam didn’t think anyone was watching, he wore the same dopey smile he had during the ceremony. With their two daughters from their respective previous marriages, they were now one big happy family.

      Will envied his boss. Happiness like that had once been within his reach.

      Lexie had been his first love and the woman he believed he’d spend the rest of his live with. But then, he’d also believed he’d conquered his PTSD. He’d been wrong on both counts and had learned a very hard lesson. Women didn’t want a broken man.

      “I only ask because I’m wondering how long you intend to stay in the mountains.”

      Will slanted Sam a look.

      “Bedroll. Tarp. Rope.” One by one, Sam listed the items Will had packed.

      “Two hours. Three at the most.”

      “Okay. Just making sure. You’ve been burying yourself in work the last couple of days. Not that you don’t always bury yourself in work.”

      “It’s important the winning couple have a good time.”

      “Yeah, but the entire burden of their stay doesn’t rest on your shoulders.”

      Will


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