Christmas In Mustang Creek

Charlotte rubbed her forehead, looking beleaguered—and amused. “Go ahead and stay until you find something else. You should know, however, that I haven’t got the slightest idea what I’m doing with my life. That’s about as honest as I can be. I lost my job, for one thing.”

“I gathered that from your online post.” Oops. He blamed his slip on the muffin; it was delicious. Beyond delicious. “I’m sorry about the job, but not sorry you left New York. Want a bite?”

She plucked off a morsel and ate it. Her shoulders slumped. “I’m not sorry, either. I just want it understood that I have no idea where my plans are right now. Let me get through the holidays first.”

He might argue with the assumption that he was there in pursuit of her, except that it was true. It made sense. If you lived in Idaho, met a woman in New York City and then showed up in someplace like Mustang Creek, Wyoming, your intentions were pretty unmistakable.

Subtle, he wasn’t.

“I’m planning to spend Christmas Eve at the clinic,” he threw out, in case she thought he’d need hand-holding over the holidays.

“You’re in charge of the pet adoption thing this year? Aunt Geneva was telling me about it today. She still reads the weekly paper from cover to cover. Luckily, she’ll be home for Christmas. I’d find it hard to feel merry without her.”

Mrs. Klozz came back in then, followed by the cat, his tail swishing. “I’ve been informed that cats need to eat, too.” Her comment was punctuated by a demanding feline yowl. “You see? Jaxon, would you mind getting Mutley out of here? If only they made dog food that tasted like cat food, then everyone would be happy. He shamelessly eats it in one gobble, and poor Can-Can is left in the lurch.”

Another chance to be useful. At this rate, he’d be indispensable in a matter of days.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kl—Millicent. For lunch, I mean. Mut and I will go up and check the bathroom door. Come on, boy.”

He had to grin at the pensive way Mutley looked over his shoulder, as if he suspected somebody was about to break out a can of cat food, but he followed Jax out of the room.

“We men have to stick together,” Jax told the dog as they climbed the steps to the landing.

The dog barked. Jax took it as a sign of agreement.

On closer examination, Jax discovered that the latch on the bathroom door was stuck because the handle mechanism no longer fit into the frame. With Mutley supervising, he took it apart, using the screwdriver on the pocketknife he carried all the time unless he was dressed up for some reason, which wasn’t often in his line of work. He tightened all the screws, then put the lock back together. It worked like a charm.

Walk the dog. Fix the door. He put a mental check beside both items.

He was getting a lot done; he’d checked out of the hotel and he was ready to move in.

With Mutley at his side, he went out to his extended-cab truck to fetch his suitcase, shaving kit and laptop from the backseat. He’d checked out of the hotel, assuming he’d be staying at Nate’s. There were still a few boxes, but Jax decided to leave those where they were for the time being. The balance between him and Charlotte was delicate; he didn’t want to come across as pushy.

Upstairs in his new bedroom, Mutley lay down, panting, to watch as Jax unpacked his clothes, hung up his shirts, stowed away his other belongings in the antique dresser. He set his laptop on the desk and plugged it in to charge.

That done, he sat down on the edge of the quilted bed and dispatched a brief text to his dad. Just your basic update, a “hello, I’m fine, how are you?” kind of thing. This time of day “Doc Locke,” as the locals called him, would still be with his furry patients. Jax would call him later with his new—temporary—address and the phone number at the veterinary clinic.

In the meantime, since he had the afternoon free, maybe he’d go out and do some Christmas shopping. Get a look at the town in the process.

Now that he was acquainted with Mutley, who seemed a perfectly adequate canine, he was having second thoughts about presenting Charlotte with a dog. So he was back at square one when it came to buying her a Christmas gift. He’d bought gifts for his dad and various other family members online, so that was done, but he wanted to pick up a little something for Mrs. Klozz, for the vet techs and receptionist over at Nate’s clinic and for Charlotte’s aunt, too.

There was one problem, though.

“Hey, Mut, what do old ladies like?”

The dog unhelpfully gave a small snore, sound asleep in a stray patch of sunlight coming through the window. He opened one eye when Jax went to the door, then closed it again. Evidently, old Mutley had had all the fun he could stand for one day.

CHAPTER SIX

HADLEIGH GALLOWAY CERTAINLY hadn’t changed much, Charlotte thought as she entered the quilt shop, and the bell on the door jingled. They’d seen each other last summer when their friend Bex Stuart had gotten married, but hadn’t had a chance to really talk amid all the bustle of the wedding. Not to mention that Hadleigh had a newborn then, so she’d been more than a little preoccupied.

The shop looked festive with garlands along the ceilings and a wreath on the wall behind the desk. All the gorgeous quilts on display had a winter theme of pine trees or reindeer, most of them patterned in the traditional red and green, but there was a particularly lovely one in pale blue and ivory, picturing a church covered in snow.

Festive music played softly in the background.

“Charlie!” Hadleigh left her perch on the stool behind the counter and came around to hug her. “You’re home for Christmas. I was hoping to see you.”

Charlotte hugged her in return. “I’m home for longer than just Christmas this time. I’ve moved back here. Guess I’m more of a small-town girl than I thought and, anyway, Aunt Geneva needs me. Other than that, I’m not sure what I’ll do next.”

“We’ll have a girls’ night out with Melody and Bex and catch up soon. Make the men watch the babies and kids instead of football.”

“Sounds perfect.” While she’d certainly made friends away from Mustang Creek, her roots were deepest here. They’d all gone to school together—she, Bex, Melody and Hadleigh.

Hadleigh’s eyes sparkled. “So the new vet... What’s that story?”

“How could you possibly—”

“Mrs. Klozz sometimes brings me suggestions for new quilt designs. Like that one.” She pointed to a child-size quilt featuring a reindeer wearing a Santa hat. “She breezes in, usually with a treat, like those yummy tea cakes with white chocolate drizzle, and chats for a minute or two. She’s mentioned Dr. Locke more than once. And keep in mind this is Mustang Creek, where everyone knows everything.” Hadleigh stopped to take a breath. “Let’s see, Bex is married to Tate Calder, and Doc Cameron is Tate’s partner in the horse-breeding business. He acquired a new vet for his practice, so it was just a matter of connecting the dots. He followed you here, correct? Did I miss anything?”

Seven years away from Mustang Creek was apparently too long. “I have so much to handle right now, I can’t even begin to figure out how I feel about Jax.”

“Want some coffee? You can bounce your ideas off me.”

“That would be great, if I had any ideas. I’d love a coffee, though.” Charlotte chose a wing chair by a small gas fireplace that gave the shop some of its cozy ambiance. Hadleigh vanished into the back room and returned a few minutes later with two steaming mugs and a huge smile.

“I love that fancy machine Tripp bought me. Pop in one of those little pods, push a button and presto, instant anything-you-want.” She sank down in the opposite chair. “So how have you been? Bring me up-to-date.”

That was where they were five minutes later when Jax strolled through the door.

He was a lot of things, but deceitful wasn’t one of them. Charlotte knew the look of surprise on his face was genuine. He stopped abruptly about two feet into the shop. “Oh.”

“How many times in one day do I have to ask why you’re somewhere I don’t expect?” Charlotte teased, enjoying his discomfort just a little.

Hadleigh was hardly slow. She glanced at him, then over at Charlotte, and said with evident amusement, “Hey, call me Sherlock. By the process of elimination, I’ve deduced that you must be Dr. Jaxon Locke.” She stood up, stretching out her hand. “Hi. I’m Hadleigh Galloway.”

“Hi.” He took off his cowboy hat—it looked perfectly natural on him—and stepped forward to shake Hadleigh’s hand. Then he said to Charlotte, “I swear I didn’t know you were here. I asked my grandmother what your aunt might want for Christmas, and she suggested a quilt. Mrs. Klozz agreed and recommended this shop.”

Mrs. Klozz. Of course she’d be involved.

Charlotte sighed and pointed. “That blue one. It’s beautiful and she’ll love it. I was going to buy it for her, but go ahead.” She was joking, actually. The quilt was one of a kind, and it was bound to be expensive. Why hadn’t his grandmother suggested something more manageable, like talcum powder or fancy soap?

Hadleigh was definitely laughing. Oh, she was trying to hide it, but without success.

Jax bought the quilt, which was expensive, without a second’s hesitation and beat it out the door pretty fast, and Charlotte had to laugh then, too. “I can’t win. I walked in and took one look at that quilt and thought of Aunt Geneva. He’s moved here to my hometown, into my house and won over the dog. By tonight, tomorrow at the latest, the cat will be all his, and you can bet he’ll charm my aunt.”

“He’s really cute, Charlie.”

No argument there. He was. And that, of course, was part of the problem.

“We don’t want the same things, Hadleigh. I don’t know if you remember, but we were a couple for a while when I lived in New York.” At that, Hadleigh nodded vigorously. “He always seemed impressed by my job, but deep down, I have this fear that he has visions of a sweet little housewife. A woman who’ll have his babies and make sure supper’s ready when he gets home from work every night. And I’m nothing like that. I’m a go-to-the-office and pick-up-takeout kind of gal. He seems to have his life all sorted out, and I’m as confused as ever.”

“Don’t despair. It only took Tripp and me about ten years or so to come up with a plan.”

“Oh, that’s comforting.”

It was true, though; the road to true love had been a rocky one. Tripp had barged into Hadleigh’s first wedding, slung her over his shoulder and carried her out of the church to prevent her from marrying the wrong man. He’d done the right thing. But a pending divorce—his; a sense of outrage—hers; and a job out of state—his again, had all conspired to keep them apart. Until recently...

Hadleigh said, “I couldn’t be happier, but both Tripp and I had to make adjustments. So Jax knows what he wants, and that’s you. Now it’s your turn. What do you want, Charlie?”

Charlotte felt philosophical. “Before this, I probably would’ve said I wanted Jax—but the big-city version, if you know what I mean. I think I knew all along that that wasn’t going to happen. He had a great job. He made enough to pay all his student loans—and he liked New York well enough. He just didn’t love it. Not the way I did. It was hard to imagine him living in the East indefinitely. He missed tending horses and cattle, I could tell, but he missed the West even more. He’s the kind of man who needs a broad sky to look up at, and miles of space in every direction.” She paused, gazing into her empty mug. “Mustang Creek will suit him.”

“Does he suit you? If not, you’re very picky, Charlie Morgan. He’s handsome as all get-out, and he’s obviously nice. Hmm, maybe if he cured cancer or wrote a best-selling novel, you’d be impressed. Come on, Charlie.”

The truth was, she sometimes thought Jax suited her a little too well. She could lose herself in a man like that, become somebody she no longer recognized. She’d seen it happen, had watched, appalled, as smart, capable women gave up parts of themselves, one by one—shedding jobs, opinions, religions, even friends.

Especially friends.

“It isn’t his problem,” she admitted at last, “it’s mine.”

“Now we’re in agreement.” Hadleigh sipped her coffee. “You’re scared, Charlie. Plain old scared. Well, here’s a newsflash—love is risky. For everybody. It’s also worth taking a chance on.” She reached over, patted Charlotte’s hand. “Let’s sum up here. He’s in love with you and you’re in love with him. You’re living in the same house, but Mrs. Klozz is living there, too, so what can possibly happen?” Maybe the next statement made sense to Hadleigh, but it sailed right over Charlotte’s head. “It’s still two days before Christmas. I think you should go skiing.”

“What? Skiing?”

Hadleigh pointed toward the mountains. “See those? That’s where you go skiing. You strap those wooden things to your feet—”

“I know what skiing is.” Charlotte had to laugh. “Do me a favor. Explain why we should go skiing.”

Hadleigh got up and came back with a set of keys. “It’s too late to go today, but tomorrow would be good. There’s all this romantic snow, and Tripp and I have a condo up in the Tetons. Don’t ask, it’s some sort of corporate thing left over from when he owned the charter jet service. Anyway, I refuse to lurch down the slopes with a baby strapped to my chest, and we haven’t even used the place this season. Maybe the two of you could go there and talk.”

Talk. Right. Charlotte was fairly sure they’d just fall into each other’s arms and not leave that condo, never even set foot—or ski—on the slopes.

She took the keys. Slowly, but she took them. “Thanks. I don’t know how much talking we’ll do. Jax doesn’t officially start his new job until Christmas Eve, and I’m currently unemployed. And while this may well be the worst idea on earth, I might eat my weight in pastries hanging out with Mrs. Klozz. A little exercise couldn’t hurt.”

“There’s no better exercise.” Hadleigh twinkled.

Charlotte said drily, “Are we still talking about skiing?”

“Uh-huh.” Hadleigh took another sip of coffee, did her level best to look innocent and failed completely.

* * *

AT SUPPER TIME, Mrs. Klozz—Millicent—served a pot roast that would make his grandmother’s famous recipe fade into the recesses of culinary history, which meant he was never going to mention it to her, and he had three helpings of the mashed potatoes.

Forget Charlie. He might just go ahead and propose to Mrs. Klozz. She was a bit old for him, but still...

“That was better than good,” he told her, when he was finally full. “I think I’m on a food high.” Both Charlotte and Millicent scooted back their chairs to rise, but he stopped them. “No, no, stay where you are. I’ll clean up. Least I can do.”

“You’re a very sweet young man.” Mrs. Klozz relinquished the plate she’d picked up.

Sweet? Not so much. This was an act of self-preservation; he needed to move around before he fell over. He was used to grabbing a sandwich and calling that dinner.

Charlotte ignored his offer, took the plates from his hands and walked to the sink. “Way to suck up, you sweet young man, you.”

He couldn’t help watching the sway of her hips. Those feminine curves really did it for him. “I meant what I said. Let me do the dishes.”

“We’ll do them together. Anyway, you don’t know where everything goes. I’ll dry.”

He relented, but only because he liked the idea of standing next to Charlie. “That’s fair.”

As he washed the dishes, she asked unexpectedly, “Do you ski?”

“I’m from Idaho.” He rinsed a glass and handed it over. “Yes, I ski. Can’t remember when I didn’t. My dad taught me, probably as soon as I could walk. He still loves the slopes, but he’s been told to lay off since his heart attack. Why?”

She hesitated.

Jax waited with slightly lifted brows.

“Oh, hell, here goes,” Charlie said, her eyes reflecting uncertainty. Then the words tumbled from her lips in a breathless rush. “I have friends who offered to lend me their condo near a resort. You met Hadleigh this afternoon. She and her husband, Tripp, have a new baby and haven’t had a chance to use the place this season. I wondered if you wanted to go up there with me tomorrow. I’ve checked the forecast on my phone. It’s supposed to be just like today, cold with intermittent snow flurries. If you have other plans—”

“I’d love to,” he interrupted swiftly, unable to stifle a smile, but trying not to look too elated.

A secluded night with her after a day on the slopes? Early Christmas present for sure. Thanks, Saint Nick.

“I’m a little rusty,” Charlie continued with uncharacteristic shyness. “I went skiing a few times in upstate New York with friends, but it’s been several years.” She put away another dish, keeping her face averted. Was she blushing? God, he hoped so, because that would mean she knew what he was thinking, might even be thinking the same thing herself. “And I’ll have to dig out my skis from the basement. You can rent equipment at the lodge.”

“Are you kidding? Do you suppose I’d come to a place like this, right by the mountains, and not bring mine? They’re in the back of my truck. My poles and boots, too.”

“There’s a nice restaurant at the lodge. Maybe we can have dinner there unless it’s completely booked, which is possible, with the holiday rush. I’ll call and check. The food won’t be as good as it is here... What did she put in those potatoes?”

“I have no idea,” Jax replied, wiping off the gravy boat carefully; it was obviously antique—Spode, he saw, turning it over—and probably irreplaceable. “She must’ve waved a magic wand over them or something. How long has she known your aunt?”

“I asked, and Aunt Geneva was pretty vague about it.”

He wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he thought about it before asking neutrally, “Was she vague in general?”

“No.” Charlotte’s voice was firm but held a hint of sorrow. “Smart as a whip, to use an expression of hers. But she’s aware that she’s having some issues in the memory department, and she can’t manage this big house. That I understand. I think she’s happy to be in a community of people like her, and it’s a comfortable place. She’d love to have Mutley and Can-Can there with her, but she’s afraid she won’t be able to take proper care of them. I guess it makes her feel better to know that someone else—Mrs. Klozz, and now me—is on it, and that eases her mind.”

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