Almost a Christmas Bride

That wasn’t important now, she reminded herself. She had Emma, the only thing that mattered.

Shana knocked twice then opened Aggie’s door. The scent of apples and cinnamon greeted her. Had she made pie or strudel? “Anybody home?” she called out.

“Mama! Mama!” Emma came running out of the kitchen and straight to Shana, who scooped her up and swung her around, her fine blond curls flying behind her, her Callahan green eyes a perfect match for her frilly T-shirt.

“Here’s my baby girl. Something smells good.”

“Apple. Mmm.”

“You’re early,” Aggie said, coming into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. “How’d it go?”

Shana cuddled Emma, who toyed with her pendant. “I got the job. Full-time, right here in town.”

“So, who’s the boss?”

“Kincaid.”

Aggie’s black-penciled brows shot up. “Doing what?”

“Jill-of-all-trades. Housekeeper, property cleaner, office help, designer.”

“Sounds like more than forty hours a week.” Aggie headed toward the kitchen. “I need to take my pie out. Come on back.”

“I’m not sure about the total hours, but it’s a mixed bag of work. And it’s live-in.”

Aggie spun around but, uncharacteristically, said nothing.

“It’s all on the up-and-up, Aggie. He needs my apartment for Dylan, and he needs a housekeeper, so Emma and I are moving in with him. This little peapod will have her own room for the first time, and a yard to play in.” She rubbed noses with Emma, who flattened her hands on Shana’s cheeks and gave her a big, wet kiss. “He’s also dating someone.”

“Is he, now?” Aggie pulled the apple pie out of the oven and set it on a metal trivet.

Shana inched closer. “I want people to know this is all business. Can you make sure that happens?”

“Are you accusing me of spreading rumors?”

“I’m thinking this is more like damage control. I’ve worked hard to get this town to accept me again. And there are never any rumors about Kincaid. This is a great opportunity for me. I can even afford to pay you and all the other babysitter volunteers for watching Emma.”

“We’ll talk about that some other time. I’m happy for you, honey. It sounds like a real good solution to all your problems. That Kincaid. He must have a crystal ball, hmm? He sure came up with a solution just when you needed it the most.”

She gave Shana an odd look, as if she knew something Shana didn’t know. “Things happen when they’re supposed to. Isn’t that what you always say?”

“That, and timing is everything.”

There was a twinkle in her eye that made Shana wonder if she’d known what Kincaid was going to offer. “Will you try to squelch any rumors that pop up, Aggie? Please?”

“I’ll try, honey, but you know the town has a lifeblood of its own when it comes to other people’s business. Somebody’s bound to start a pool or two.”

Shana had known that, of course. She’d just hoped otherwise. “Well, maybe when they see Kincaid’s girlfriend, they’ll change their minds.”

“I find it interesting that he’s never showed up with a girlfriend before but you think he will now.”

“Me down,” Emma said.

Shana took advantage of the moment to formulate an answer. “I do, too, but he told me he would be taking her to the Stompin’ Grounds on Saturday night.”

“Really?” Aggie chuckled. “I haven’t been there in years. But why would he ask you to be his live-in housekeeper if he’s finally serious enough about a girl to bring her to the town’s hot spot and show her off? Wouldn’t having you and Emma around cramp his style with a girlfriend?”

“Who knows how Kincaid’s mind works.” Shana crouched next to Emma as she pulled plastic containers out of a cabinet.

“When are you moving in?”

“By the weekend, I think. The apartment furniture belongs to Dixie, so I’m going to leave it for Dylan, although I may edit a little to make it more suitable for an eighteen-year-old guy. It’s pretty feminine now. I really only have clothes and Emma’s things. A few box loads, probably.”

“Kincaid’s got that big ol’ pickup, so I figure you don’t need me to help.”

“No, but thank you. Here, Emma, stack these up and put them away. We need to get going.” Shana stood. She touched Aggie’s shoulder. “I was so embarrassed for crying all over you at Thanksgiving, but maybe finally saying it out loud, putting it out there into the universe, is what made Kincaid’s offer happen.”

Aggie nodded seriously. “I’m thinking you’re right about that.”

“Because you didn’t tell him, right?”

She held up a hand. “I swear I didn’t say a word to Kincaid.” She swept Shana into her arms. “This’ll be good for you and the little one.”

Shana relaxed into her, eyes stinging. “I just want people to forget who I was before. I’ve grown up a lot since I left home, but especially this last couple of years.”

“Honey, if rumors or betting pools get started, it would be because they like you. If they didn’t, you wouldn’t be worth their time.”

Shana straightened. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

Aggie patted Shana’s cheek. “There you go. If you’ve got time, you could stay for lunch. The pie will be cooled enough to eat after that. And maybe Emma could take her nap here, and you could get started packing.”

Everything was happening so fast, Shana almost couldn’t take it all in. But Aggie had allayed some of her fears, and there was the excitement of the work ahead of her.

Maybe she was a late bloomer, but blooming she was—finally—and she owed it all to Landon Kincaid, a man who’d always seemed to just tolerate her. Opportunity really could come from the strangest places—or people.

Hours later, Kincaid had just pulled up in front of the Take a Lode Off Diner to meet Dylan for dinner when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen first, let it ring once more then answered. “I’ve been expecting your call, Aggie.”

“Oh, have you now? Why would that be?”

“I figure Shana already told you about my job offer.”

“She did. Dixie must’ve called you because I told her I was worried about Shana.”

“I promised Dixie I wouldn’t tell Shana how I learned about her situation. You’re the only other person who knows, who might guess at my motives.”

“I’ll take it to the grave, Kincaid.”

He relaxed. “Thank you. She’s proud.”

“That she is.”

“And she can get plenty angry,” he added.

Aggie laughed. “Yes, but she’s also worried about her reputation, too.”

“I’m aware of that.”

She didn’t answer immediately. “If I were you, I’d let it be known right away what’s going on. If you try to hide it at all, it’s only going to work against you in the long run.”

“Who should do the telling?”

“You, I think. You might start with Honey. Word’ll spread from there, but it won’t be malicious.”

Honey owned the diner he was about to enter. That was easy enough. “Thanks, Aggie. For everything.”

“You’re welcome.” Before she hung up, she said, “You know there’s something between the two of you, Kincaid.”

“Yeah. Animosity.”

Aggie laughed a little. “There’s that, of course, but for all that she seems like one tough cookie, she really has a tender soul. Been hurt a lot. Worked hard to recover. Independent as they come. Got it?”

“Don’t mess with her,” he said. “Yes, I got it.”

“Okay, then.”

He ended the call then put one through to Shana. “Aggie advises us to be up front about everything,” he said when she answered. “She says we should start at the Lode, with Honey. Now, I can do it myself, or you could join me and Dylan for dinner and we could sort of announce it together.”

“I’m fine with you taking on that task. If I’m there, we’ll seem like a couple.”

“Okay.” He was both relieved and apprehensive. He just wanted to get it over with. The diner was a microcosm of the town. The initial reaction would represent how everyone felt. “When will you be ready to move?”

“Friday.”

Four days from now. He wondered why she was stalling. She’d already told him she didn’t have much to pack. “How about Saturday, instead? I book as few jobs as possible on weekends.”

“Works for me. Have you lined up a date for Saturday night?”

“I’m thumbing through my black book as we speak.”

She laughed.

“Do you need boxes?” he asked.

“I’m good, thanks. I called Dixie to fill her in, but I had to leave a message and she hasn’t called back. Have you talked to her?”

“We email about the house now and then.” Not only were he and Dixie connected through business, he’d been remodeling and expanding Dixie and Joe’s house for months while they were honeymooning and working overseas.

“I’ll try her again later. Um, would you ask Dylan to call me, please?” she asked. “We can set up a time for him to stop by the apartment and see what he’d like changed to suit him.”

“Sure.” He saw Dylan pull up in his Kincaid Construction truck. “I’ll stay in touch during the week, Shana. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I’d like to see your house before I move in. Figure out what I need to buy for our bedrooms.”

“How does tomorrow evening suit you?” They finalized their plans, then he ended the call and walked to where Dylan was parking.

“Hey, boss!” Dylan called out as he hopped down from the pickup.

“How’d the bathroom demo go?”

“All done.”

They went through the diner door. “Even the tub?” Kincaid asked.

“Room’s down to the studs. Found a few spots of dry rot.”

“How’d you get the tub out on your own? The thing weighed a ton.”

Dylan grinned. “Guess I’m stronger than you.” He jabbed Kincaid in the arm and danced around as if boxing.

It was hard to believe that until two months ago the kid had been homeless. He’d already packed about fifteen pounds onto his six-foot frame, but still didn’t weigh over one-fifty. He kept his hair a little long, and girls had started giving him the eye.

Kincaid waved at Honey, then they grabbed seats in the only open booth.

“Be right there, boys!” she called out, a plate in each hand, her long salt-and-pepper braid swinging side to side behind her.

“Eric called today,” Dylan said. “He and Marcy are coming up to see Gavin and Becca on Saturday. They invited me for lunch.” He looked away, his attention caught by four girls at a far booth who were sneaking glances at him and giggling.

Eric and Marcy Sheridan had rescued Dylan from the streets a couple months back. Eric’s sister, Becca, had recently married Shana’s brother, Gavin. Almost everyone in Chance City seemed to have a family connection to someone else.

Dylan dragged his gaze back to Kincaid. “Anyway, do you have something lined up for me on Saturday or is it okay if I have lunch with them?”

“You’re going to be a little busy on Saturday.”

Disappointment dulled his eyes, but Kincaid knew he wouldn’t argue about it. Dylan was grateful for the job, and more responsible than most eighteen-year-olds.

“You’re going to be moving,” Kincaid said, timing his words to coincide with Honey coming up to get their orders.

“Moving? Where? Why?” Dylan asked.

“Into the apartment above Respite.”

Dylan frowned. “That beauty shop place downtown?”

“It’s a salon, yes, but also a day spa. There’s a nice one-bedroom above it.”

“Where’s Shana going?” Honey asked.

“I hired her through At Your Service to work for me. I need a housekeeper, for one thing, but more than that. Shana is perfect for the job.”

Honey’s brows rose. “Isn’t that interesting.”

“It’s not personal, Honey. It’s strictly business.”

“I get an apartment all to myself?” Dylan asked, his eyes wide.

“Yes. It’s a building I own, so you’ll be paying me rent. I figure you’ve been freeloading off me for long enough.”

Dylan’s grin lit up the space.

“So … Emma, too, I suppose,” Honey said.

“Of course.”

“I’ve never seen you interact with a little one before.”

Probably because he hadn’t. He didn’t have an opinion on children one way or the other, but he also wasn’t going to be taking care of her. “I think she’ll enjoy having a yard to play in,” he said to Honey. “And I know Shana’s happy not to be commuting to Sacramento. It’s a good fit for everyone.”

Kincaid’s nerves settled some. Honey had reacted to the news, but she didn’t turn around and announce it to the crowd to egg on some bigger reaction. She would spread the word without fanfare, he figured.

Kincaid and Dylan ordered their dinners and talked about what it would mean for Dylan to have his own place, and all the responsibilities it entailed. Kincaid wasn’t sure Dylan was completely ready for the move, but it was the only way Kincaid could help Shana—at least, that she would accept. He’d keep a close eye on Dylan, make sure he didn’t flounder in his independence. Being homeless and forced to fend for himself was different from living in an apartment alone, where there were more temptations, not just a need to survive.

“Can we go see the place?” Dylan asked as Kincaid was paying the bill a while later.

“Not tonight. She said you should call her, though, and come over so she can help you redecorate a little. It’s kinda girly right now, I guess.”

The four teenage girls walked past them, each one smiling at Dylan. Kincaid had lived on his own at sixteen. He knew the potential hazards of it, especially when it came to the opposite sex. “We’ll need to have a birds-and-bees talk,” he said.

Dylan rolled his eyes.

“If you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll pay attention to what I have to say,” Kincaid said.

“Yes, sir.”

Kincaid laughed at the military tone of voice.

They headed toward the diner door. “So, Shana’s moving in, huh?” one customer asked.

“To work for me,” Kincaid said, not stopping to engage in conversation. Fortunately, he’d never given the town reason to gossip about him through the years. He’d dated women outside of town, asked a fair price for the work he did and completed jobs on time. Still, even after nineteen years as a member of the community, he wasn’t well-known enough to be kidded much.

Which might change now that he’d shaken up his predictable world.

“What’s the big deal about Shana moving in as your housekeeper?” Dylan asked after they’d left the diner. “Lots of people have live-in help.”

“She’s a young, attractive, single woman, and this town loves its gossip.” Kincaid pulled out his keys and toyed with them. “Remember that. And its citizens have long memories, too. It’s like one big family, with its rivalries and devotion.”

“Thanks. I’ll remember.” Dylan looked around. “You know, when you first offered me the chance to come up here and work, I really wanted the job but I wasn’t sure about being so far from city life. But now I like it. It’s old, you know? I love knowing that gold miners settled the town all those years ago, and that the downtown is just a couple of blocks long and has wooden sidewalks that make noise when you walk on them, and people say hello all the time.”

“Even if everyone knows your business?” Kincaid asked.

“People knew who I was right away. That was cool. Plus, I like all the trees and hills and the great view of the Sierras. I can see myself staying here forever.”

Chance City did get into one’s blood, Kincaid thought. He’d felt the same affinity for it when he’d landed here. “You’re right. It’s a good town. See you at home.”

Home. Kincaid’s quiet home had been disrupted by having Dylan live with him, and it was about to be disrupted more. Much more. On the other hand, it should be more organized, too, having Shana around to take over some of his responsibilities. That much was the truth.

He just had to make sure she never found out why he’d offered her the job. He couldn’t be responsible for her running away again.

For someone who’d built his reputation on being a man of his word, that would be a death knell to him.

Chapter Three

Kincaid’s house was set back from the street by at least a hundred feet. Shana maneuvered her car down the long, curving driveway surrounded by pine and oak trees of varying heights and density, which mostly blocked the house from view, at least low to the ground.

“Sure is dark,” she said, then made the final turn and stopped in front of a large lodgelike structure, with a well-lit front porch.

“Dark,” Emma said from her car seat.

“I’ll bet it’s pretty during the day, though. What do you think, peapod? Look at all those windows. The view must be spectacular.”

Emma babbled her response, although “pretty”—her newest word in her rapidly expanding vocabulary—

came through loud and clear mid-paragraph, even if it did sound more like “pity.”

Shana got Emma from the backseat and headed up the stairs of the impressive structure, so suited to its environment. According to Aggie, he’d built the house himself about four years ago. Apparently everyone had talked about it, because his original goal had been to sell it, then he hadn’t, surprising them all. They’d wondered why one man would need a house with five bedrooms. There’d even been a pool going for a while about when he would get married, but it never happened, and the gossip eventually died off, although everyone had wondered if he’d had his heart broken by a rejection.

Kincaid opened the front door and said hello before she could knock. He wore jeans, a plaid flannel shirt and thick socks. His shirtsleeves were rolled up a few turns, revealing muscular forearms. Strong. She associated the word with him more than any other.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked, cocking his head.

“Kitty?” Emma asked, looking around. “Me down,” she said, wriggling. “Kitty.” Her tone was the same insistent one she used to say “cookie.”

“There’s no kitty, peapod,” Shana said. “Or is there?”

“No pets at all,” Kincaid said. “Come in out of the cold. I built a fire. Don’t worry. It’s got a large, sturdy screen. I made adjustments to it today to affix it to the stone. There’s no danger to Emma.”

His consideration caught her off guard. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Well, selfish, too,” he said. “I like my fires in winter and didn’t want to give them up.” He turned to Emma. “How are you, Miss Emma?”

“Do you remember Kincaid, Emma?” Shana asked. “Can you say Kincaid?”

Emma shook her head, her thumb stuck firmly in her mouth.

“It’s a new word, isn’t it? Please try, Emma. Say Kincaid.”

She gave Kincaid a long look, then said, “Kinky.”

Shana slapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh. “Almost, baby. Try again. Kincaid.”

“Kinky,” Emma said, louder.

“Kinky it is,” Kincaid said, not seeming bothered by it.

“If it’s any consolation,” Shana said, “she started calling Dylan ‘Dilly.’”

“I’d rather be Kinky than Dilly.”

“I’m sure.” She smiled. “Where is he, anyway?”

“He drove to Sacramento to buy some posters, which apparently you suggested for his new place.”

“I don’t think he’s a wildflower-print kind of guy, do you?”

Kincaid shook his head. He led them toward the fireplace, which took up a good portion of one wall and was bracketed by floor-to-ceiling windows, triple-paned, he said, for temperature control. The furnishings were perfect for the lodgelike environment, overscale and masculine, and yet not so masculine as to feel sterile.

“Me down,” Emma said again. Shana set her on the floor, and she toddled closer to the fireplace, coming to a stop several feet from it. “Pretty.”

Shana joined her, taking off her tiny jacket, as well as her own. Kincaid took both and hung them on a rack by the front door.

“Your home is beautiful,” she said.

“Thanks. Would you like to see the rest?”

“Yes. Come on, Emma.”

Emma went ahead of them, so they followed her lead. She took them through the dining area on the opposite side of the living room, which also had a stunning view, then into the most perfect kitchen Shana had ever seen, with maple cabinets, stainless-steel appliances, green-and-gold granite countertops and more cabinet space than one man could ever possibly use, even if he were a professional chef. She’d had jobs as a short-order cook in small towns several times to earn her keep, but she didn’t consider her skills more than basic. Could the right kitchen inspire her to become better at it?

They moved on to two downstairs bedrooms, then upstairs to see two more bedrooms, an office and the master suite, which was about the same size as the one-bedroom apartment she currently lived in. Every room was completely and beautifully furnished. She looked at it all with a designer’s eye and didn’t see a need to change anything, which was a little disappointing. She’d been hoping her talents would be put to use at his house.

“You and Emma are welcome to use the two bedrooms downstairs or upstairs.”

“Thanks. I’ll think it over.” She thought it would be a good idea to keep her distance from him, keep Emma’s noise to minimal disruption, and yet she liked the security of being on the same floor.

“I need you to decide soon. Dylan and I will have to move furniture out of the right bedroom to make room for Emma’s things.”

“Okay. Did you have a professional designer?”

“I designed the house, but I hired a decorator to help furnish it. If you’d lived in town then, I would’ve hired you.”

Shana studied him for a few seconds, then watched Emma, who was standing at the foot of his bed as if plotting how to climb up on it. “This is weird,” Shana said.

“What’s weird?” He crouched to give Emma a boost, but she moved sideways, out of reach. He looked over his shoulder at Shana.

“Us. This. We’re not arguing. We always argue.”

“I wouldn’t call it arguing. No one ever shouts. Mostly it’s just insults. And you usually start it.”

Shana’s mouth dropped open. “I usually start it? You just started it.” She rushed forward to stop Emma, who’d grabbed the deep green duvet and was trying to pull herself up.

“I won’t let her fall,” Kincaid said, as if offended. He reached for Emma.

“No,” she said.

“Emma,” Shana said, caution in her voice

“No Kinky.” She took off running, another recently mastered skill, giggling all the way. Shana was hot on her heels.

He found them in his office, Emma holding on to his desk and moving away from Shana, giggling at the game. Her hands hit the computer keyboard, waking up the monitor, the sudden light startling her.

“You can’t touch the computer, Emma,” Shana said, turning to look at Kincaid. “I’m so sorry.”

He realized then what was on the screen. A spreadsheet of his annual expenses that he’d intended to transfer to a flash drive. She’d glanced at the screen. Would she notice? It had a big heading, in bold. If she read it, she’d know he’d already computerized the work he’d told her he wanted her to do.

Then she wouldn’t believe anything else he said—

“Here’s the box of receipts I told you about. I pretty much just toss them in here all year, then deal with them at the end.”

“I can manage that. I’m kind of surprised you’re that disorganized, Kincaid. You don’t seem like you would be.”

“We all have our flaws.”

“Yes, we do. Let’s go, peapod,” she said.

Kincaid blew out a breath then trailed them more slowly, gauging their location by following the laughter. There hadn’t been much laughter in this house. Not that it was a depressing place to be, not at all, but he’d been alone most of the time. Having Dylan around had been an adjustment, and there had been laughs between them, but nothing like he expected would become the norm with Shana and Emma around.

Kinky. He wondered what people would say once they heard Emma call him that in public, if she ever warmed up to him. The idea that she wouldn’t take to him hadn’t crossed his mind. Until now.