A Mistletoe Vow

“Okay, okay. Lesson learned. Now we just have to do our best to whip them into shape. We can do this, right?”

At the note of desperation in Hope’s voice, Celeste forced a confident smile. “Sure we can.”

Though she had her own doubts, she wouldn’t voice them to Hope. She was too grateful for her sister for bringing light and joy back to the ranch.

After Travis’s death in a ranching accident, Celeste, Mary and Faith had decided to close The Christmas Ranch, which had been losing money steadily for years. It had seemed the logical course of action. The Star N had been all but bankrupt and the Christmas side of things had been steadily losing money for years.

The plan had been to focus on the cattle side of the Star N, until Hope came back from years of traveling. She put her considerable energy and enthusiasm to work and single-handedly brought back the holiday attraction.

Part of that success had come because of the Sparkle books, which still managed to astonish Celeste.

She would always be deeply grateful to Hope for reminding them all of the joy and wonder of the season. Helping her with this Christmas program was a small way to repay her for all her hard work on behalf of the family.

“We’ve got this,” she said to her sisters with a firm smile that contained far more assurance than she really felt.

She stepped forward and started to clap her hands to gather the children around when the door opened and a couple of newcomers came in. She turned with a smile to welcome them and felt an actual physical jolt when she saw Flynn and Olivia.

Despite his agreement the night before, she had been certain Flynn would end up not bringing Olivia. She had seen the clear reluctance in his eyes and knew he worried the girl wasn’t ready for this sort of public appearance.

She was thrilled for Olivia’s sake that he had changed his mind, even if it meant she would have to do her best to ignore her own reaction to him—and even though she wouldn’t have been nearly as exhausted today if not for him.

Her night had been restless. She couldn’t seem to shake the memory of that moment when he had kissed her cheek—the warmth of his mouth, the brush of his evening shadow against her skin, the delicious, outdoorsy scent of him.

She shivered now in remembered reaction.

“Are you cold?” Faith asked in a low voice.

No. Exactly the opposite. “I’m fine.” The lie rolled out far more easily than she would have expected. She had never been very good at stretching the truth.

“That must be Flynn,” Hope said in an undertone, following her gaze to the newcomers. “Wow. He’s really filled out since he was a teenager. Where’s a nice lawn to be mowed when we need it?”

Faith laughed aloud, something she did very rarely these days. She had become so much more sober since Travis died.

“Good luck with that, finding a patch of bare lawn in Idaho in December,” Faith said. “Too bad you can’t talk him into shoveling snow without his shirt.”

That was an image Celeste didn’t need to add to the others in her head. She felt herself color, then immediately regretted the reaction when her sisters both looked between her and Flynn with renewed interest. Drat. They were both entirely too perceptive. The last thing she needed was for either Hope or Faith to get any matchmaking ideas where Flynn was concerned.

She quickly left her annoying sisters and moved forward to greet the newcomers.

Olivia looked nervous, half hiding behind her father. She visibly relaxed when Celeste approached.

“Hi, Celeste.”

“It’s my favorite just-turned-seven-year-old. Hi.”

“It’s noisy in here,” Olivia informed her in an accusing sort of voice, as if it was Celeste’s fault all the children were so wild.

“I know. Sorry about that. We’re just about to get started. Once we focus everybody’s attention, things will calm down. How are you today?”

Olivia smiled a little. “Okay, I guess. My dad didn’t want to bring me, but I asked him and asked him until he finally said yes.”

“I’m so glad,” she said.

She shifted her gaze finally to Flynn and found him watching her with an unreadable look. She was suddenly aware that she must look tousled and harried. She had come straight from work, stopping at home only long enough to let Linus out and yank her hair up into a messy bun. She wore jeans and her favorite baggy sweater, and she was pretty sure her makeup had worn off hours ago.

For just a moment, she wished she could be beautiful and sophisticated instead of what she was—boring.

“Hi,” she said to him. To her dismay, her voice sounded breathless and nervous. “I wasn’t sure you would come.”

“Apparently my daughter is relentless. Kind of like someone else I know.”

She had to smile at the slightly disgruntled note in his voice.

“This will be fun. You’ll see. We’re going to practice until about six thirty. If you have shopping to do or want to go back to work on your grandmother’s house, you’re welcome to return for her then. Actually, I could even drop her off. It’s not far.”

He looked around at the chaos of the jacked-up children and then back at his nervous daughter.

“I believe I’ll stay, if you don’t mind.”

What if she did mind? What if the idea of him watching her for the next two hours made her more nervous than a turkey at Thanksgiving?

She didn’t know what else she could do but nod. “Sure. Of course. There are sofas over by the fireplace where you can make yourself comfortable. If you’d rather be closer to the action here, feel free to bring over a chair.”

“Thanks.”

He then proceeded to take neither of those suggestions. Instead, he leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest and turned his full attention in her direction.

“Right.” She swallowed and glanced at her watch. They should have started practicing five minutes ago.

She clapped her hands loudly and firmly three times to grab everyone’s attention and said in her most firm librarian voice. “By the count of ten, I need everybody to gather around me and freeze in your best Christmas statue pose. Ready? One. Two. Three...”

By the time she hit four, all thirty children—thirty-one now, including Olivia—had made their way to her and adopted various positions. Destry Bowman, one of the older girls, was stretched out on the floor pretending to be asleep. Cute little Jolie Wheeler looked as if she was trying to do a figure eight on skates. Her niece, Louisa, appeared to be reaching on tiptoes for something, and it took Celeste a moment before she realized she was trying to put ornaments on an invisible Christmas tree.

Olivia looked uncertain, standing nervously with her hands clasped in front of her.

Celeste gave her a reassuring smile and then turned her attention to the other children.

“Perfect. Statues, you can all relax now and sit down.”

The children complied instantly and she smiled. They might be a wild bunch but she loved them all. Each was someone whose name she knew, either from being neighbors and friends with their parents or from church or her work at the library.

“Thank you! This is going to be great fun, you’ll see. The senior citizens and your families are going to love it, trust me, and you’ll have fun, too. Are you all ready to put together a great show for your families?”

“Yes!” they shouted as one.

“Let’s get to it, then.”

* * *

He never would have predicted it when he walked into chaos, but somehow the ragtag collection of hyperactive children had calmed down considerably and were working hard together.

Celeste had organized the children into small groups of five or six and assigned one older child to teach them the song or dance they were to perform. She in turn moved between the groups offering words of advice or encouragement, working on a lyric here or a dance move there.

He found it charming to watch, especially seeing her lose her natural reserve with the children.

Was that why she had become a children’s librarian, because she was more comfortable interacting with them? He was curious—but then he was curious about everything that had to do with Celeste Nichols.

Naturally, he kept a careful eye on his daughter, but she seemed to have relaxed considerably since they’d walked in. Just now she was talking and—yes!—even laughing with three children he’d heard call Celeste their aunt, a couple of boys about her age and a girl who appeared to be a few years older.

Had Celeste said something to them, somehow encouraged them to be especially welcoming to Olivia? He wouldn’t have been surprised, but maybe they were as naturally compassionate and caring as their aunt. Whatever the reason, the children seemed to have gone out of their way to show kindness and help her feel more comfortable, which went a long way toward alleviating his own concerns.

He doubted anything could make him feel totally enthusiastic about Olivia performing in the little production, but it helped considerably to see her enjoying herself so much and interacting with her peers.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to admit it, but Celeste might have been right. This little children’s performance in a small community in Idaho might be exactly what Olivia needed to help her begin to heal from the horrors she had endured.

He finally relaxed enough to take a seat on one of the sofas by the fireplace and was reading through email messages from his office on his cell phone when one of the women Celeste had been talking with when he and Olivia arrived took a seat on the sofa across from him.

“Hi, Flynn. You probably don’t remember me, but I’m Hope Santiago. Used to be Nichols. I’m Celeste’s sister.”

Ah. No wonder she had looked familiar, though she only shared green eyes in common with her sister. Instead of Celeste’s silky brown hair and quiet, restful loveliness, Hope Santiago was pretty in a Bohemian sort of way, with long, wavy blonde hair and a cluster of exotic-looking bracelets at her wrist.

He had met her before, he thought, back when he used to come here for the summers.

“Hello. Sure, I remember you. You’re married now. Congratulations.”

She gave a pleased-as-punch smile and gestured through the doorway to what looked like an office where a big, tough-looking dude with a couple of tats was speaking on a cell phone.

“That’s my husband, Rafe. He and I run The Christmas Ranch together.”

“The two of you must just be overflowing with Christmas spirit.”

She chuckled. “We do our best. Thanks for letting your daughter participate in the show. It means a lot to Celeste.”

He wasn’t sure he had exactly “let” Olivia do anything. He’d been steamrollered into it, when all was said and done, but so far things seemed to be working out.

He shrugged. “It’s for a good cause, right? Making some older people happy. That can only be a good thing, right?”

“Exactly.” She beamed at him.

“You’re the artist,” he realized suddenly. “The one who took Celeste’s Sparkle story and turned it into a book.”

She nodded. “That’s me,” she answered.

“They’re charming illustrations that go perfectly with the story,” he told her. “I read the second book again to my daughter last night, for about the twentieth time in just a few days. It’s every bit as sweet as the first one. The two of you make a great team.”

She looked pleased at his words. “Thanks, but Celeste is the creative genius. I just took her fabulous story and drew little pictures to go with it. Any success the Sparkle book has seen is because of her story.”

“That’s funny. She said almost exactly the same thing about you and your illustrations.”

“She would,” she said with a laugh. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking we’re always adoring sisters, so sweet to each other we’ll make your teeth hurt. We’re not afraid to have it out. I think I’ve still got a little bald spot in the back of my head where she yanked out some hair during a fight when we were kids. She might look sweet and all, with that quiet librarian thing she has going, but she can fight dirty, even when you’re bigger than she is.”

He had to laugh. He glanced over at Celeste, who was holding an upset preschooler on her lap and trying to calm him, her face close to his. Flynn did his best to imagine her in a physical fight with one of her sisters. He couldn’t quite make the image fit, but had to admit he enjoyed trying.

She must have felt his gaze. She looked up from the little boy and whatever she was saying to him. He saw her swallow and watched her features turn rosy, much to his secret enjoyment. After a moment, she turned back to the child and he shifted his gaze back to Hope, who was watching him with interest.

“Looks as if we’re just about wrapping up here,” she said casually. “If you haven’t had dinner, why don’t you and your daughter come up to the ranch house after practice? Aunt Mary is making lasagna and her famous crusty bread sticks. You can celebrate with us.”

“What are you celebrating?”

“We just agreed to let a film studio begin work on an animated Sparkle movie. It’s going into production immediately, with hopes that it will be out by next Christmas. And with the money we’re getting for the film rights, we’re paying off the second mortgage our uncle took on the Star N. We’d love to have you celebrate with us.”

His stomach rumbled on cue while he was still trying to take in the surprising invitation. “That’s very kind of you, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“Intrude on what?” Another woman who looked enough like Celeste and Hope to make him certain this was their other sister joined them by the fireplace.

“I invited Flynn and his daughter over for lasagna. Aunt Mary won’t mind, will she?”

“Are you kidding? She’ll be over the moon to have a few more people to fuss over, and you know she always makes enough to feed half the town.”

His first inclination was to say no. He even opened his mouth to refuse the invitation, but then he caught sight of Olivia looking more relaxed and animated than he had seen her in a long time. Right next to her was Celeste, apparently done calming the upset little boy and now smiling at something Olivia had said.

He couldn’t seem to look away.

“Sure,” he answered before he had a chance to think it through. He had no plans for dinner beyond warming up the pizza they’d had the night before, and he had a feeling Olivia was getting a little tired of his meager culinary abilities. “Thank you for inviting us. Lasagna sounds delicious, and we would be honored to celebrate with you, especially since Olivia is your biggest fan.”

“Excellent,” Hope said, looking delighted.

“I’d better call Aunt Mary and let her know to set two more places at dinner,” Faith said.

The two of them walked away, leaving him wondering what he had just done.

Chapter Eight

This was a mistake.

Flynn sat at the big scarred kitchen table at the Star N wondering what on earth he had been thinking to agree to this.

Since the moment he sat down he had been aware of an itch between his shoulders, a feeling that he didn’t belong here.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

The food was delicious, he had to admit. The lasagna was perfectly cooked, cheesy and flavorful with a red sauce his late mother’s Italian chef would definitely have endorsed. The bread sticks were crispy and flavorful, and even the tossed salad seemed fresh and festive.

He couldn’t fault the company. It was more than pleasant. He enjoyed listening to Celeste’s family—her aunt Mary, who turned out to be a jolly woman with warm eyes and an ample girth, her two sisters as well as Hope’s husband, Rafe Santiago, and Chase Brannon, a neighboring rancher who seemed more like part of the family.

More important, Olivia seemed to be more relaxed and comfortable than he had seen her in a long time. She sat at one end of the table with Celeste’s niece, Louisa, her nephew, Barrett, and the other boy he had seen them with at the rehearsal. It turned out the boy was Rafe’s nephew. From what Flynn could tell, the boy lived with Rafe and Hope, though Flynn didn’t completely understand why.

The children were deep in conversation, and every once in a while he heard laughter coming from that end of the table. Olivia even joined in a few times—a total shocker.

So why did he feel so uneasy? He didn’t want to admit that it might have been because he was enjoying himself too much. He didn’t need to find more things that drew him to Celeste, when he already couldn’t seem to get the woman out of his head.

“So what do you do in California?” Chase asked.

The man treated all the Nichols sisters as if he were an older brother. He seemed especially protective of Faith, though she hardly seemed to notice.

“Construction. I’ve got a fairly good-size operation, with offices in San Diego, Los Angeles and Sacramento.”

“Delaney Construction. Is that you?” Rafe piped up.

He nodded, intensely proud of what he had built out of nothing. The company had become a powerhouse over the past decade, even in the midst of a rough economy.

“You do good work,” Rafe said. “A buddy of mine is one of your carpentry subs. Kevin O’Brian. I flew out for a few weeks last spring to help him on a job, a new hospital in Fullerton.”

“Right. He’s a good man.”

“That’s what he said about you.”

“Wow. Small world,” Hope said.

He and the men spent a few moments talking about some of the unique challenges of working in the construction industry in Southern California.

“Have you ever thought about moving your operations out to this neck of the woods?” Chase asked. “We don’t have a lot of hospitals and the like going up, but there are always construction projects around here, especially in the Jackson area.”

The question took him by surprise. Three months ago he would have given an emphatic no to that question. He had a business in Southern California, contacts and subcontractors and jobs he had fought hard to win.

He glanced at Olivia. He had other things to concern himself with now, like what might be best for his daughter.

Small-town life seemed to agree with her, he had to admit. Maybe she would be able to heal better if she were away for longer than just a few weeks from the life they had both known in California.

A change of scenery appeared to have helped the Nichols sisters move beyond the trauma in their past.

“I haven’t,” he answered truthfully. “It’s definitely something to think about.”

He glanced across the table to see Celeste listening in, though she was pretending not to.

What would she think if he stuck around town a little longer than a few weeks?

Probably nothing, he told himself. They meant nothing to each other.

“What are you doing with that property of your grandmother’s?” Mary asked.

“I’m hoping to put it up for sale in the next few weeks.”

“You’re not planning to subdivide it, are you?” she asked, her gaze narrowed.

He could probably make more money if he did that, but somehow he didn’t think his grandparents would approve.

“That’s a nice piece of land there by the Cold Creek,” Brannon said. “Somebody could build a beautiful house on it if they were so inclined.”

If he were going to stay here—which he most definitely wasn’t, based on a simple dinner conversation—he probably would take the bones of the house and add on to it, opening up a wall here or there and rebuilding the kitchen and bathrooms.

It was a nice, comfortable house, perfectly situated with a gorgeous view of the mountains, but it was too small and cramped for comfort, with tiny rooms and an odd flow.

All this was theoretical. He planned to sell the property as-is, not take on another project. He had enough to do right now while he was helping his daughter recover the shattered bits of her life and learn to go on without the mother she had adored.

The conversation drifted during the dinner from topic to topic. The Nicholses seemed an eclectic group, with wide-ranging interests and opinions. Even the children joined in the discussion, discussing their projects at school, the upcoming show, the movie deal they were celebrating.

He was astonished to discover he enjoyed every moment of it. This was exactly what a family should be, he thought, noisy and chaotic and wonderful.

He had never known this growing up as an only child whose parents had stayed together much longer than they should have. He had learned to live without a family over the years, but it made his chest ache that his daughter would never have it, either.

* * *

Her sisters were matchmaking.

Celeste could tell by the surreptitious glances Faith and Hope sent between her and Flynn, the leading little questions they asked him, the way they not-so-subtly discussed the upcoming movie deal, careful to focus on Celeste’s literary success, as if they were trying to sell a prize pig at the market.

It was humiliating, and she could only hope he hadn’t noticed.

How could they possibly think Flynn might be interested in her in the first place? If they had bothered to ask her, she would have explained how ludicrous she found the very idea.

They didn’t ask her, of course. They’d simply gone ahead and invited the poor man to dinner. Why he agreed to come, she had no idea. By the time dessert rolled around, she still hadn’t figured it out—nor did she understand how he and Olivia seemed to fit in so effortlessly with her family.

Hope and Faith and Aunt Mary all liked him, she could tell, and Chase and Rafe treated him with courtesy and respect.

As for her, she liked having the two of them here entirely too much.

She tried to reel herself back, to force herself to remember this was only temporary. They were only at the ranch for the evening. Her sisters’ matchmaking intentions were destined to failure. Not only wasn’t he interested in her, but he had made it abundantly clear he was going back to California as soon as he could.

“Practice went well, don’t you think?” Hope asked, distracting her from that depressing thought. “The kids seemed to be into it, and what I heard was wonderful.”

“It won’t win any Tony Awards, but it should be fun,” she answered.

“With all you have going on around here, I still can’t figure out why you decided to throw a show for local senior citizens,” Flynn said.

Hope took the chance to answer him. “We’ve always had so much community support over the years here at The Christmas Ranch, from the very moment Uncle Claude opened the doors. The people of Pine Gulch have been great to us, and we wanted to give back a little. I guess we picked senior citizens because so many of them feel alone during the holiday season.”

“Many of these people have been friends with me and my late husband for years,” Mary added. “This seemed a good chance to offer them a little holiday spirit.”

“I think it’s nice,” Louisa declared. “So do my friends. That’s why they agreed to do it.”

Celeste smiled at her niece, who had a very tender heart despite the tragedy of losing her father.

“I do, too,” she answered.

“Is Sparkle going to show up at the party?” Barrett asked.

“I think we’re going to have to see about that next week,” Faith answered her son. “He’s been acting a little down the past few days.”

Celeste frowned at her sister. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked, alarmed.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing,” she answered. “He’s just off his feed a bit. I ended up bringing him up here to his stall at the main barn to see if being back with the horses for a day or two would cheer him up.”

Sparkle had a particularly soft spot for Mistletoe, an old mare who used to be Uncle Claude’s. “I’m sure that’s it,” Celeste said.

“Maybe he just misses you, CeCe,” Hope suggested. “You haven’t been down to see him in a while.”