A Cadence Creek Christmas

“Why would you think that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Because so far you’ve found fault with everything I say or do?”

“Then why did you come with me?”

“You didn’t leave me much choice.” She pursed her lips.

“You always have a choice,” he replied, unrolling his cutlery from his paper napkin.

“Then I guess because I was hungry,” she said.

He smiled. “You mean because I was right.”

Oh, he was infuriating!

“The trick is to make them want to do what I want.” He repeated his earlier sentiment, only she understood he wasn’t talking about horses anymore. He’d played her like a violin.

She might have had some choice words only their meals arrived, two plates filled with roast beef, potatoes, carrots, peas and delightfully puffy-looking Yorkshire puddings. Her potatoes swam in a pool of rich gravy and the smell coming from the food was heaven in itself.

She never ate like this anymore. Wondered if she could somehow extract the potatoes from the gravy or maybe just leave the potatoes altogether—that would probably be better.

“Thanks, Mom,” she heard Rhys say, and her gaze darted from her plate up to his face and then to the woman standing beside the table—the same woman who had patted his arm in the kitchen. Taylor guessed her to be somewhere around fifty, with dark brown hair like Rhys’s, only cut in an efficient bob and sprinkled with a few gray hairs.

“You’re welcome,” she said, then turned to Taylor with a smile. “You’re Callum’s sister. I remember you from the christening party.”

Right. Taylor had flown in for that and she’d helped arrange a few details like the outdoor tent, but she’d done it all by phone from Vancouver. “Oh, my goodness, I totally didn’t put two and two together. Martha Bullock...of course. And you’re Rhys’s mother.” She offered an uncertain smile. Usually she didn’t forget details like that. Then again the idea of the gruff cowboy calling anyone “Mom” seemed out of place.

“Sure am. Raised both him and his brother, Tom. Tom’s been working up north for years now, but Rhys moved home a few years back.”

“Your chicken tartlets at the party were to die for,” Taylor complimented. “And I had the soup yesterday. You’re a fabulous cook, Mrs. Bullock. Whoever your boys marry have big shoes to fill to keep up with Mom’s home cooking.”

Martha laughed while, from the corner of her eye, Taylor could see Rhys scowl. Good. About time he felt a bit on the back foot since he’d been throwing her off all day.

“Heh, good luck,” Martha joked. “I’m guessing groomsman is as close to the altar as Rhys is gonna get. He’s picky.”

She could almost see the steam come out of his ears, but she took pity on him because she’d heard much the same argument from her own family. It got wearisome after a while. Particularly from her father, who’d never taken her business seriously and seemed to think her sole purpose in life was to settle down and have babies.

Not that she had anything against marriage or babies. But she’d do it on her own timetable.

“Well,” she said, a bit softer, “it seems to me that getting married is kind of a big deal and a person would have to be awfully sure that they wanted to see that person every day for the rest of their lives. Not a thing to rush, really.”

Martha smiled and patted Taylor’s hand. “Pretty and wise. Don’t see that very often, at least around here.” She sent a pointed look at a nearby table where Taylor spied an animated blonde seated with a young man who seemed besotted with her.

“Well, your supper’s getting cold.” Martha straightened. “And I’ve got to get back. See you in a bit.”

Taylor watched Rhys’s mother move off, stopping at several tables to say hello. Her full laugh was infectious and Taylor found herself smiling.

When she turned back, Rhys had already started cutting into his beef. Taylor mentally shrugged and speared a bright orange carrot with her fork.

“So,” she said easily. “How’d a nice woman like your mother end up with a pigheaded son like you?”

CHAPTER TWO

TENDER AS IT was, Rhys nearly choked on the beef in his mouth. Lord, but Callum’s sister was full of sass. And used to getting her own way, too, from the looks of it. He’d noticed her way back in the fall at the christening, all put together and pretty and, well, bossy. Not that she’d been aggressive. She just had one of those natural take-charge kind of ways about her. When Taylor was on the job, things got done.

He just bet she was Student Council president in school, too. And on any other committee she could find.

He’d been the quiet guy at the back of the class, wishing he could be anywhere else. Preferably outside. On horseback.

Burl Ives was crooning on the jukebox now and Taylor was blinking at him innocently. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be offended or laugh at her.

“She only donated half the genetic material,” he replied once he’d swallowed. “Ask her. She’ll tell you my father was a stubborn old mule.”

Taylor popped a disc of carrot into her mouth. “Was?”

“He died when I was twenty-four. Brain aneurism. No warning at all.”

“God, Rhys. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged again. “It’s okay. We’ve all moved well beyond the shock and grief part to just missing him.” And he did. Even though at times Rhys had been frustrated with his father’s decisions, he missed his dad’s big laugh and some of the fun things they’d done as kids—like camping and fishing. Those were the only kinds of vacations their family had ever been able to afford.

They ate in silence for a while until it grew uncomfortable. Rhys looked over at her. He wasn’t quite sure what had propelled him to bring her here tonight. It had been the gentlemanly thing to do but there was something else about her that intrigued him. He figured it was probably the way she challenged him, how she’d challenged them all today. He’d nearly laughed out loud during the fitting. He could read people pretty well and she had pushed all the right buttons with Callum. And then there was the way she was used to being obeyed. She gave an order and it was followed. It was fun putting her off balance by taking charge.

And then there was the indisputable fact that she was beautiful.

Except he really wasn’t interested in her that way. She was so not his type. He was beer and she was champagne. He was roots and she was wings.

Still. A guy might like to fly every once in a while.

“So,” he invited. “Tell me more about what you do.”

“Oh. Well, I plan private parties and events. Not generally weddings. Right now, in addition to Callum and Avery’s details, I’m going back and forth with my assistant about a New Year’s party we’re putting together. The hardest part is making sure the construction of the giant aquariums is completed and that the environment is right for the fish.”

“Fish?”

She laughed, the expression lighting up her face. “Okay, so get this. They want this under the sea theme so we’re building two aquariums and we’ve arranged to borrow the fish for the night. It’s not just the aquariums, it’s the marine biologist I have coming to adjust conditions and then monitor the water quality in the tank and ensure the health of the fish. Then there are lights that are supposed to make it look like you’re underwater, and sushi and cocktails served by mermaids and mermen in next to no clothing.”

“Are you joking?”

She shook her head. “Would I joke about a thing like that? It’s been a nightmare to organize.” She cut into her slab of beef and swirled it around the pool of gravy. “This is so good. I’m going to have to do sit-ups for hours in my room to work this off.”

He rolled his eyes. Right. To his mind, she could gain a few pounds and no one would even notice. If anything, she was a little on the thin side. A few pounds would take those hinted-at curves and make them...

He cleared his throat.

“What about you, Rhys? You said you work with horses?” Distracted by the chatting now, she seemed unaware that she was scooping up the mashed potatoes and gravy she’d been diligently avoiding for most of the meal.

“I work for Ty out at Diamondback.”

“What sort of work?”

“Whatever has to be done, but I work with training the horses mostly. Ty employs a couple of disadvantaged people to help around the place so I get to focus on what I do best.”

“What sort of disadvantaged people?” She leaned forward and appeared genuinely interested.

Rhys finished the last bite of Yorkshire pudding and nudged his plate away. “Well, Marty has Down’s syndrome. Getting steady work has been an issue, but he’s very good with the animals and he’s a hard worker. Josh is a different story. He’s had trouble finding work due to his criminal record. Ty’s helping him get on his feet again. Josh helps Sam’s end of things from time to time. Those cattle you mentioned herding earlier.”

Taylor frowned and pushed her plate away. She’d made a solid dent in the meal and his mother hadn’t been stingy with portions.

“So what are your plans, then?”

“What do you mean?”

She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “I mean, do you have any plans to start up your own place or business?”

“Not really. I’m happy at Diamondback. Ty’s a good boss.”

She leaned forward. “You’re a take-charge kind of guy. I can’t see you taking orders from anyone. Don’t you want to be the one calling the shots?”

Calling the shots wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Rhys had seen enough of that his whole life. Along with being the boss came a truckload of responsibility, including the chance of success and the probability of failure. His own venture had cost him financially but it had been far worse on a deeper, personal level. Considering he now had his mom to worry about, he was content to leave the risk to someone else from here on in. “I have a job doing something I like and I get a steady paycheck every two weeks. What more could I want?”

She sat back, apparently disappointed with his answer. Too bad. Living up to her expectations wasn’t on his agenda and he sure wasn’t about to explain.

Martha returned bearing two plates of apple pie. “How was it?” she asked, looking at Taylor expectantly.

“Delicious,” she had the grace to answer with a smile. “I was trying to be good and avoid the potatoes and I just couldn’t. Thank you, Martha.”

“Well, you haven’t had my pie yet. It’s my specialty.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly.”

“If it’s your waistline worrying you, don’t. Life’s too short.” She flashed a grin. “Besides, you’ll wear that off running all over town. I heard you’re kicking butt and taking names planning this wedding. Everyone’s talking about it.”

Apparently Taylor found that highly complimentary and not at all offensive. “Well, maybe just this once.”

Martha put down the plates. “Rhys? The faucet in my kitchen sink at home has been dripping. I wondered if you could have a look at it? Consider dinner your payment in advance.”

He nodded, knowing that last part was for Taylor’s benefit more than his. He never paid for meals at the diner and instead looked after the odd jobs here and at his mother’s home.

It was why he’d come back to Cadence Creek, after all.He couldn’t leave his mother here to deal with everything on her own. She’d already been doing that for too many years. It had always been hand to mouth until this place. She still worked too hard but Rhys knew she loved every single minute.

“I’ll be around tomorrow before work to have a look,” he promised. “Then I can pick up what I need from the hardware and fix it tomorrow night.”

“That sounds great. Nice to see you again, Taylor. Can’t wait to see your handiwork at this wedding.”

Rhys watched Taylor smile. She looked tired but the smile was genuine and a pleasant surprise. She had big-city girl written all over her but it didn’t mean she was devoid of warmth. Not at all.

When Martha was gone he picked up his fork. “Try the pie. She’ll be offended if you don’t.”

Taylor took a bite and closed her eyes. “Oh, my. That’s fantastic.”

“She makes her own spice blend and doesn’t tell anyone what it is. People have been after her recipes for years,” he said, trying hard not to focus on the shape of her lips as her tongue licked a bit of caramelly filling from the corner of her mouth. “There’s a reason why the bakery focuses on cakes and breads. There’s not a pie in Cadence Creek that can hold a candle to my mom’s.”

“You seem close,” Taylor noted.

She had no idea. Rhys focused on his pie as he considered exactly how much to say. Yes, he’d come back to Cadence Creek to be nearer his mom after his dad’s death. She’d needed the help sorting out their affairs and needed a shoulder. He’d been happy to do it.

But it was more than that. They were business partners. Not that many people were aware of it and that was how he wanted it to stay. Memories were long and his father hadn’t exactly earned a stellar business reputation around town. Despite his best intentions, Rhys had followed in his footsteps. Being a silent partner in the restaurant suited him just fine.

“We are close,” he admitted. “Other than my brother, I’m the only family she’s got and the only family here in Cadence Creek. How about you? Are you close with your family?”

She nodded, allowing him to neatly change the subject. “I suppose so. We don’t live so close together, like you do, but it’s close enough and we get along. I know they were very worried about Callum when he came back from overseas. And they thought he was crazy for buying a dairy farm.” She laughed a little. “But they can see he’s happy and that’s all that matters.”

“And Jack?”

She laughed. “Jack is in Montana most of the time, busy overseeing his empire. We don’t see each other much. Our jobs keep us very busy. Running our own businesses is pretty time-consuming.”

“I can imagine.” Rhys had met and liked Jack instantly, but like Taylor, he looked a bit exhausted. Running a big sporting goods chain was likely to have that effect.

Which was why Rhys was very contented to work for Diamondback and spend some of his spare hours playing handyman for the diner and his mother’s house. It was straightforward. There was little chance of disappointing people.

Angry words and accusations still bounced around in his brain from time to time. Failing had been bad enough. But he’d let down the person he’d trusted most. And she’d made sure he knew it.

The fluted crust of Taylor’s pie was all that remained and she’d put down her fork.

“Well, I suppose we should get going.”

“I’m going to have to roll back to the B&B,” she said ruefully, putting a hand on her tummy.

“Not likely,” he said, standing up, but their gazes met and he was certain her cheeks were a little redder than they’d been before.

He took her coat from the back of the chair, pulled the scarf from the sleeve and held it so she could slide her arms into it. They were quiet now, he unsure of what to say and his show of manners making things slightly awkward. Like this was a date or something. He stood back and grabbed his jacket and shoved his arms in the sleeves. Not a date. It was just sharing a meal with...

With a woman.

Hmm.

“I’m putting my gloves on this time,” she stated with a cheeky smile.

“Good. Wouldn’t want your fingertips to fall off.”

They gave a wave to Martha before stepping outside into the crisp air.

It had warmed a bit, but that only meant that the precipitation that had held off now floated lazily to the earth. Big white flakes drifted on the air, hitting the ground with a soft shush of sound that was so peculiar to falling snow. It draped over hedges and windows, painting the town in fairy-white.

“This is beautiful,” Taylor whispered. “Snow in Vancouver is cause for chaos. Here, it’s peaceful.”

“Just because the wind isn’t blowing and causing whiteouts,” Rhys offered, but he was enchanted too. Not by the snow, but by her. The clever and efficient Taylor had tilted her head toward the sky and stuck out her tongue, catching a wide flake on its tip.

“I know it’s just water, but I swear snow tastes sweet for some reason,” she said, closing her eyes. Another flake landed on her eyelashes and she blinked, laughing as she wiped it away. “Oops.”

Rhys swallowed as a wave of desire rolled through him. Heavens above, she was pretty. Smart and funny, and while an absolute Sergeant Major on the job, a lot more relaxed when off the clock. He had the urge to reach out and take her hand as they walked through the snow. Odd that he’d have such an innocent, pure thought when the other side of his brain wondered if her mouth would taste like apples and snowflakes.

He kept his hand in his pocket and they resumed strolling.

It only took a few minutes to reach the bed and breakfast. Rhys paused outside the white picket gate. “Well, here we are.”

“Yes, here we are. What about you? You walked me back but now do you have to walk home in the snow? Or are you parked nearby?” She lifted her chin and Rhys smiled at the way the snow covered her hair with white tufts. She looked like a young girl, bundled up in her scarf and coat with snow on her head and shoulders. Definitely not like a cutthroat businesswoman who never had to take no for an answer.

“I live a few blocks over, so don’t worry about me.”

“Do you—” she paused, then innocently widened her eyes “—live with your mother?”

He laughed. “God, no. I’m thirty years old. I have my own place. I most definitely do not live with my mother.”

Her cold, pink cheeks flushed even deeper. “Oh. Well, thanks for dinner. I guess I’ll see you when we pick up the tuxes, right?”

“I guess so. See you around, Taylor.”

“Night.”

She went in the gate and disappeared up the walk, her ruby-red boots marking the way on the patio stones.

He had no business thinking about his friend’s sister that way. Even less business considering how different they were. Different philosophies, hundreds of kilometers between them... He shouldn’t have taken her elbow in his hand and guided her along.

But the truth was the very thing that made her wrong for him was exactly what intrigued him. She wasn’t like the other girls he knew. She was complicated and exciting, and that was something that had been missing from his life for quite a while.

As the snowfall picked up, he huddled into the collar of his jacket and turned away. Taylor Shepard was not for him. And since he wasn’t the type to mess around on a whim that meant keeping his hands off—for the next two weeks or so.

He could do that. Right?

* * *

Taylor had left the planning for the bridal shower to Clara Diamond, Ty’s wife and one of Avery’s bridesmaids. Tonight Taylor was attending only as a guest. In addition to the bridal party, Molly Diamond’s living room was occupied by Melissa Stone, her employee Amy, and Jean, the owner of the Cadence Creek Bakery and Avery’s partner in business.

In deference to Clara’s pregnancy and the fact that everyone was driving, the evening’s beverages included a simple punch and hot drinks—tea, coffee, or hot cocoa. Never one to turn down chocolate, Taylor helped herself to a steaming mug and took a glorious sip. Clara had added a dollop of real whipped cream to the top, making it extra indulgent. Taylor made a mental note to start running again when she returned home.

“I hope everything’s okay for tonight,” Clara said beside her. “It’s a bit nerve-racking, you know. I can’t put on an event like you, Taylor.”

Taylor had been feeling rather comfortable but Clara’s innocent observation made her feel the outsider again. “Don’t be silly. It’s lovely and simple which is just as it should be. An event should always suit the guests, and this is perfect.”

“Really?”

Indeed. A fire crackled in the fireplace and the high wood beams in the log-style home made it feel more like a winter lodge than a regular home. The last bridal shower she’d attended had been in a private room at a club and they’d had their own bartender mixing custom martinis. She actually enjoyed this setting more. But it wasn’t what people expected from her, was it? Did she really come across as...well...stuck up?

Taylor patted her arm. “Your Christmas decorations are lovely, so why would you need a single thing? Don’t worry so much. This cocoa is delicious and I plan on eating my weight in appetizers and sweets.”

She didn’t, but she knew it would put Clara at ease. She liked Clara a lot. In fact she liked all of Callum’s friends. They were utterly devoid of artifice.

Clara’s sister-in-law Angela was taking puff pastries out of the oven and their mother-in-law Molly was putting out plates of squares and Christmas cookies. Jean had brought chocolate doughnut holes and Melissa was taking the cling wrap off a nacho dip. The one woman who didn’t quite fit in was Amy, who Taylor recognized as the young woman from the diner the night she’d had dinner with Rhys. The implication had been made that Amy wasn’t pretty and smart. But she looked friendly enough, though perhaps a little younger than the rest of the ladies.

She approached her casually and smiled. “Hi, I’m Taylor. You work for Melissa, right? I’ve seen you behind the counter at the shop.”

Amy gave her a grateful smile. “Yes, that’s right. And you’re Callum’s sister.” She looked down at Taylor’s shoes. “Those are Jimmy Choos, aren’t they?”

Taylor laughed at the unconcealed longing in Amy’s voice. “Ah, a kindred spirit. They are indeed.”

“I’d die for a pair of those. Not that there’s anywhere to buy them here. Or that I could afford them.”

Her response was a bit guileless perhaps but she hadn’t meant any malice, Taylor was sure of that. “I got them for a steal last time I was in Seattle,” she replied. She leaned forward. “I’m dying to know. Why is it that everyone else is over there and you’re over here staring at the Christmas tree? I mean, it’s a nice tree, but...” She let the thought hang.

Amy blushed. “Oh. Well. I’m sure it was a polite thing to include me in the invitation. I’m not particularly close with the Diamond women. I kind of, uh...”

She took a sip of punch, which hid her face a little. “I dated Sam for a while and when he broke it off I wasn’t as discreet as I might have been about it. I have a tendency to fly off the handle and think later.”

Taylor laughed. “You sound like my brother Jack. Callum was always the thinker in the family. Jack’s far more of a free spirit.”

“It was a long time ago,” Amy admitted. “It’s hard to change minds in a town this size, though.”

“You haven’t thought of moving?”

“All the time!” Amy’s blond curls bounced. “But my family is here. I didn’t go to college. Oh, I must sound pathetic,” she bemoaned, shaking her head.

“Not at all. You sound like someone who simply hasn’t found the right thing yet. Someday you will. The perfect thing to make you want to get up in the morning. Or the perfect person.” She winked at Amy.

“I’m afraid I’ve pretty much exhausted the local resources on that score,” Amy lamented. “Which doesn’t exactly make me popular among the women, either.”

“You just need an image makeover,” Taylor suggested. “Do you like what you’re doing now?”

She shrugged. “Working for Melissa has been the best job I’ve ever had. But it’s not exactly a challenge.”

Wow. Amy did sound a lot like Jack.

“We should meet up for coffee before I go back to Vancouver,” Taylor suggested. Despite the fact that Amy was included but not quite included, Taylor liked her. She just seemed young and without direction. Heck, Taylor had been there. What Amy needed was something to feel passionate about.

“I’d like that. Just stop into the shop. I’m there most days. It’s busy leading up to the holidays.”

The last of the guests arrived and things got underway. Taylor was glad the shower stayed on the sweeter rather than raunchier side. There was no paté in the shape of the male anatomy, no gag gifts or handcuffs or anything of the sort. They played a “Celebrity Husband” game where each guest put a name of a celebrity they had a crush on into a bowl and then they had to guess which star belonged to whom. The resulting laughter from names ranging from Kevin Costner who got Molly’s vote to Channing Tatum—Amy’s pick—broke the ice beautifully.