On a Snowy Christmas Night. Debbi Rawlins
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at the prized view of the skyline outside her window. She was pretty pleased to have the corner office Brian coveted. Hardly a charitable thought, but too bad. She hadn’t asked for the prime spot. In fact, it was a waste. Her gaze was usually glued to her computer monitor. Not that she minded. She liked the total focus necessary in her job as a computer software engineer for a high-tech corporation. Her boss had only given the office to her to emphasize her importance to the company. They were always giving her perks and bonuses.
That was part of the reason Brian had called it quits. She’d outpaced him and grown too successful. And her terrible social skills were also a factor. Being rushed through school had its price. She’d had only one friend and two dates by the time she graduated high school at fifteen. College had been more of the same.
But she was getting better. Every day. Though only when she paid attention and put herself out there, going to a movie or having a drink with a coworker instead of locking herself away with her computer and iPad. That’s why it was important to put her foot down and not let her mother steamroll her into coming for Christmas.
“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
HER 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