The Lawman's Christmas Wish. Линда Гуднайт
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exchanged amused glances with Casey Donner, one of her guides and a dear friend. Both women were as practical as rain boots. Though a dear and gentle heart, Penelope was born a city girl, a wealthy socialite whose tastes ran to the finer things in life. Since coming to Treasure Creek, she’d toughened up considerably, following a wilderness trek that had almost cost her her life. Still, her expensive haircut and manicure were signs that Penelope would always enjoy the best. Amy’s dollar-store tumblers probably weren’t on Penelope’s wedding registry.
“Don’t worry about the dishes, Penelope. I’m just glad my boys are okay.”
“Oh, Amy.” Penelope’s face paled. “I get a chill thinking about what might have happened if you had arrived home sooner.”
So did Amy. Even now she dreaded the moment everyone would leave. No matter what she’d told her sons and Reed, she was badly shaken by the incident. The notion that some unknown enemy had handled her personal belongings inside the home she considered a sanctuary left her feeling violated and vulnerable.
Vulnerability was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
“The important thing is she didn’t.” Nate McMann, one of her part-time, ultramasculine guides looked as out of place as Penelope as he crouched in front of the refrigerator with a scrubbing sponge. With his cowboy boots and Wrangler jeans, the rancher was more at home wrangling a five-hundred-pound steer than cleaning house.
“Aren’t you scared to stay here by yourself?” Penelope asked, a tiny frown furrowing the perfect brow.
“I’ll be fine,” Amy said, but her thoughts returned to that moment of panic when she’d looked down the darkened hallway and wondered who might be lurking. A nervous knot spread from her belly to her shoulders.
“You could spend the night with me,” Casey offered, expressing concern. Wearing her usual cargo pants and unisex thermal shirt, Casey Donner was tomboy-tough, with a reputation for being as strong and capable as a man, even though, beneath the strength she was every bit a woman. As oilman Jake Rodgers had happily discovered.
“I appreciate the offer, Casey.” Amy glanced toward the breakfast nook where Karenna Parker was playing with the boys and baby Matthew to keep them out of the way. “But I don’t want my sons to think there’s any reason to be afraid.”
“But there is a reason, Amy,” Penelope said with a graceful shiver. “You could get hurt.”
Amy rubbed at the back of her neck. A headache was starting, and she was certain it was from tension. But running away from a problem never solved anything, and she was telling the truth when she said she didn’t want her boys to know there was a reason to be afraid. Still, talking about the break-in upset her more than she wanted them to know.
“I’m glad all of you are here now. That’s what matters. Let’s just forget the other for a while, okay?”
Her friends exchanged glances and a silent agreement seemed to circle the room. No more talk of the break-in.
Nate dipped a pair of sponges into a bucket of soap suds and squeezed. Ketchup bloodied the water. “Business was slow anyway.”
Amy forced her gaze from the red water and the reminder that she or the boys could have been hurt—that instead of ketchup, someone could have been cleaning away blood. “No calls this afternoon?”
Her voice sounded high and strained, even to her own ears. The last thing she or the town needed after the miniboom of that last few months was a dead week. Without tourists, the town could not survive.
Rachel looked up from the kitchen sink where she was washing anything anyone stuck in front of her. If the company’s receptionist had closed the office, business must have been really slow.
“A few. Don’t worry.” Rachel waved a drippy skillet.
“Snowmobile and ski season is upon us. We’ll be wildly busy around Christmas and New Year’s when the schoolkids are out on break.”
“You’re right, of course. The Lord has brought us this far. He won’t let us fail now.”
The pep talk was more for herself than anyone. Exhausted both physically and emotionally, she was running on fumes.
Nate pivoted on the toes of his boots. His green eyes rested on her, placid and sure. “Bethany’s already booked a couple of December weddings. We’re bound to attract a few tourists from those.”
Amy’s friend, Bethany Marlow, now Nate’s fiancée, had returned to Treasure Creek a few months ago to establish a wedding planning business. Amy had once suffered doubts that such an enterprise was viable in the tiny town, but she’d been delightedly wrong. When Bethany moved back to Treasure Creek to set up her wedding shop, no one could have imagined how busy she would be. Although the now infamous magazine article had regenerated some unsavory interest in Amy’s family’s missing treasure, it had also proven a boon for the town.
The knot in her shoulders relaxed a little. Talking about weddings and business took the edge off.
“That’s great news, Nate. Is the wedding party for anyone we know?” She glanced around pointedly at several faces glowing with love. Nate’s was one of them.
“Not me and Bethany. At least not yet.” He grinned, teeth flashing beneath his gorgeous green eyes. “She wants to make plans. Lots of plans. Gotta be perfect.”
“Well, she is a wedding planner. Think of the publicity and the business the perfect wedding could bring. Not that either of you cares about that at your own wedding.”
“You got that right.” Nate was a tight-lipped rancher and part-time guide who naturally shied away from too much attention. Those who knew him knew the big wedding plans were a sure sign of how much he loved and wanted to please his bride-to-be.
“So if it’s none of us, who is getting married?” Penelope asked as she dumped the dustpan into a large, plastic trashbag. Amy tried not to cringe at the clatter and clink of her broken belongings.
“A couple is coming up from Seattle to be married on skis, and Bethany’s making all the arrangements, including accommodations for one hundred guests.”
“A wedding on skis,” Penelope mused. “Sounds…fun.” Her expression said just the opposite.
Her fiancé, Tucker, laughed. “Does that mean you want to get married on skis, too?”
Penelope pointed a manicured nail at him. “You’re cute, but you’ll be even cuter in tails and a cummerbund.”
“What? No skis?” Tucker teased. “No edgy Fifth Avenue goggles? No trendy pink-and-lime ski wear?”
“Only if you wear the pink,” she said, eyes sparkling with mischief.
A couple of the rugged guides looked aghast at the conversation, but Tucker was an attorney from the city. Even though he’d spent months stranded in the Alaskan wilderness, he and Penelope weren’t exactly the rugged type. But they were a perfect match. And he was the right groom for the formal wedding Penelope was planning—with Bethany’s help, of course.
Amy laughed, more anxiety easing away as Tucker stalked a squealing Penelope into the darkened living room—a fitting place for two romantics to sneak a kiss.
When the pair returned a couple of minutes later starry-eyed and grinning, a twinge of envy caught Amy by surprise. She and Ben had once been like this, though the last few years, with the babies and the business, had been hectic and they’d had less time for each other.
“The B and Bs must be thrilled to have so many customers this time of year,” she said.
Casey’s short brown hair bounced against her face as she nodded. “I talked to Juanita this morning at Lizbet’s Diner.” Juanita Phillips owned and operated the Treasure Creek Hotel. “She said the hotel was booked solid through the New Year and already had Valentine’s bookings, too. She’s in shock.”
“Good