The Cowboy's Christmas Miracle. RaeAnne Thayne
Читать онлайн книгу.
enough to make his mouth water. Her cheeks were flushed like the barest hint of color on August peaches and her silky blond hair was doing its best to escape the confines of the hair clip holding it away from her face.
He wondered what she would do if he reached out to finish the job, just for the sheer pleasure of watching it swing free, but he quickly squashed the inappropriate reaction. She was an extraordinarily lovely woman, he thought, not particularly thrilled that he couldn’t seem to stop noticing that little fact about his neighbor.
“Are you helping the caterer tonight?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I guess you could say that. Is there something wrong with the food?”
“No. Quite the contrary. Everything has been perfect. I’m looking for a business card, in fact.”
She blinked at him for a long moment, her big green eyes astonished, then she quickly looked away as if she hadn’t heard him, her attention focused on arranging items on the buffet table for better access by the guests.
As the silence dragged on, he realized she wasn’t going to respond. “So would you mind getting one for me from the caterer when you have a minute?” he pressed.
Again she gave him that odd look, as if she wasn’t quite sure how to handle his request. Finally, she sighed and reached into the pocket of her red-and-green striped apron and pulled out a business card.
A nice touch for the caterer, he thought, to give all his servers business cards to be handed out upon request. He scanned it quickly, then felt his jaw drop.
Cold Creek Cuisine
Weddings, parties, reunions, or just an unforgettable, intimate dinner for two
Jenna Wheeler, owner
“You made all this?” he asked.
She gave him a long, cool look. “Why do you sound so surprised?” she parroted his own words back to him.
He had no good response to that, other than the obvious. “You’re a widowed mother of four young children. Quite frankly, I’m astonished you have time to breathe, forget about running a business.”
He didn’t add that from what he had seen of her children, he would think just keeping them out of mischief would require six or seven strong-willed adults. Armed with cattle prods, for good measure.
“It can be challenging sometimes,” she answered. “But I do most of the cooking when they’re in school or sleeping.”
Even when he came to Raven’s Nest to relax, he could never completely escape work. Carson often had to take conference calls from Europe or Japan at odd hours. He remembered now that he had sometimes seen lights glowing at her house late at night and had wondered about it.
He was struck by another sudden memory. “Is that why you had so many groceries in your van today? I thought maybe you were just stocking up in case of a blizzard.”
She laughed out loud and he was quite certain it was the loveliest sound he had heard in a long time. “My boys eat a lot, I’ll grant you that. But not quite twenty grocery bags full. Yes, that’s why I had so many groceries in my van. It was also the reason for my panic this morning. I had a million things to do before tonight and couldn’t really afford the delay of being stupid enough to slide into a snowbank. Thank you again for pulling me out.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad I was there. I would have hated missing all this delicious food. Your tandoori beef skewers are particularly wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything like it.”
“Thank you.” She looked as surprised at the compliment as if he had just reached over and kissed her hard, right here above the maple pepper salmon bites.
Not a completely unappealing idea, he had to admit.
None of this made sense to him. Not his sudden fierce attraction to her or the fact that she was here in the first place.
He had paid in the mid seven figures for her ranch, more than its appraised value because he hadn’t wanted to quibble and risk missing out on the purchase after he had searched so long for the perfect rangeland for his and Neil’s plans for sustainable ranching.
He would think with careful management, she and her children would be well-provided-for the rest of their lives.
But she drove a five-year-old minivan and her house needed painting and she worked after her children were in bed to throw parties for other people.
It was none of his business, he reminded himself. She was none of his business.
Except she did fix a mean goat-cheese crostini.
“Well, your food is fantastic. Do you mind if I give your card to my assistant who plans my events for me? I expect I’ll be doing more entertaining at Raven’s Nest in the future. I was hoping to find someone closer than Jackson Hole to handle the catering when I entertain. I never expected her to live just down the hill.”
She paused for a long moment and he could clearly see the indecision in her eyes. He sensed she wanted to tell him no but instead she gave a short nod. “I suppose. I should warn you I’m very selective about the jobs I accept. If it doesn’t work for my children’s schedule, I have no qualms about turning something down. They come first.”
“Fair enough.”
He would have added more but the woman who had been helping Jenna serve at the party approached them at that moment. She barely looked at Carson but the quick glance she shot at him was icier, even more than Jenna’s had been.
“Jenna, the mayor is asking if you have more of your baconwrapped shrimp. He’s crazy about them, apparently. I told him I would ask.”
“I’ll have to go check the inventory in the kitchen.” She turned toward Carson with an apologetic expression he wasn’t completely certain was genuine.
“Will you excuse me? Things are a little hectic.”
“Of course,” he answered. He watched her go, not at all thrilled to realize the brief interaction with her had been the most enjoyable moments of his evening.
Why wouldn’t the man just leave already?
Jenna returned to the kitchen after making yet another trip to replenish the buffet table, fighting the urge to bury her face in a pitcher of ice water.
This was becoming ridiculous.
She had made a half-dozen trips out into the holidaybedecked community center, circulating among the guests with more cheesecake or toffee bites.
Every time, she had vowed to herself she wouldn’t pay the slightest bit of attention to Carson McRaven. But the instant she would walk out of the kitchen, her gaze would unerringly find him, no matter where he was standing.
He shouldn’t have stood out so glaringly. She had no reason to hone in on him like a heat-seeking missile. It wasn’t like he was wearing some fancy tailored Italian-cut suit or anything. He had on perfectly appropriate khaki slacks and a light blue dress shirt under a sport jacket that looked casual but probably cost more than the average fall steer at market.
The man was just too blasted good-looking, with that dark wavy hair and those intense blue eyes. It didn’t help that he wore his clothes with a careless elegance that was completely foreign compared to the off-the-rack crowd in Pine Gulch.
She couldn’t help noticing him, maybe because he looked like a fierce hawk taking tea with a flock of starlings.
This is the cattle growers’ association holiday party, right? Since I run four hundred head of cattle at Raven’s Nest, doesn’t that make me eligible?
If he was your average rancher, she was Julia Child.
“I can’t believe that man had the nerve to show up here.”
Jenna