RaeAnne Thayne

Christmas in Cold Creek


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When Gabi nodded he slanted a look at Becca. She shrugged. Christmas tree positioning wasn’t exactly in her skill set. Right along with waiting tables and trying to raise a precocious nine-year-old girl.

      â€œGabrielle, would you mind going back out onto porch for the tree stand I left there?” he asked. “I don’t want to move from the perfect spot.”

      She hurried out eagerly and returned shortly with the green metal tree stand.

      â€œOkay, I’m going to lift the tree and you set the stand with the hole right underneath the trunk. Got it?”

      She nodded solemnly. When Trace effortlessly lifted the tree, she slid the stand where he indicated. Becca couldn’t help but compare her eagerness to help Trace with the tree to her grave reluctance a few moments earlier to finish four measly math problems.

      For the next few moments, Trace held the tree and instructed Gabi to tighten the bolts of the stand around the trunk in a particular order for the best stability.

      Becca watched their efforts with a growing amusement that surprised her. She shouldn’t be enjoying this. This was the police chief, she reminded herself, but it was hard to remember that when he was laughing with Gabi about the tree that seemed determined to list drunkenly to the side.

      â€œI’m beginning to see why people prefer artificial trees.”

      â€œOh, blasphemy!” He aimed a mock frown in her direction. “What about that heavenly smell?”

      â€œA ninety-nine-cent car air freshener can give you the same thing without the sap and the needles all over the carpet.”

      He shook his head with a rueful smile but didn’t argue and she was painfully aware of the highly inconvenient little simmer of attraction. He was an extraordinarily good-looking man, with those startling green eyes and a hint of afternoon shadow along his jawline. Avoiding him would be far easier if the dratted man didn’t stir up all kinds of ridiculous feelings.

      â€œI’ll clean up the needles, I promise.”

      To Becca’s surprise, Gabrielle seemed to glow with excitement. She was such a funny kid. Becca was no closer to figuring out this curious little stranger than she was two months ago when Monica had dumped her in her lap.

      â€œOkay, moment of truth.” Trace stepped back to look at his handiwork. “Does that look straight to you two?”

      Gabrielle moved toward Becca for a better perspective and cocked her head to the side. “It looks great to me. What about you, Be—um, Mom?”

      Gabi stumbled only slightly over the word but it was still a surprising mistake. Her sister was remarkably adept at deception. No surprise there since she’d been bottle-fed it since birth. Becca glanced at the police chief but he didn’t seem to have noticed anything amiss and she spoke quickly to distract him.

      â€œLooks straight to me, too.”

      â€œI think you’re both right. It is straight. Amazing! That didn’t take long at all. You’ve got some serious tree setup skills, young lady.”

      Much to Becca’s astonishment, her sister giggled. Actually giggled. Gabrielle blinked a little, clearly surprised at the sound herself.

      â€œNow what are we going to decorate it with?” the girl asked.

      â€œI’ve got a couple strings of lights out in the truck. We can start with that.”

      â€œI can probably find something around here,” Becca said quickly. “If not, I can pick some up tomorrow.”

      She didn’t want him here. It was too dangerous. The more time they spent with the police chief, the greater the chance that either she or Gabi would slip again and he would figure out things weren’t quite as they seemed. She had the distinct impression he was suspicious enough of them and she didn’t want to raise any more red flags.

      Her unwilling attraction to him only further complicated the situation. She just wanted him to leave so she could go back to duct-taping her life back together.

      â€œI’ve already got the lights out in my truck. Why go to so much trouble of tracking down more?”

      â€œYou’ve already done more than enough.”

      â€œHere’s something good to know about me.” Trace grinned. “I’m the kind of guy who likes to see things through.”

      For an insane instant, she imagined just how he would kiss a woman—with thorough, meticulous intensity. Those green eyes would turn to smoke as he took great care to explore and taste every inch of her mouth with his until she was soft and pliant and ready to throw every caution out the window… .

      She blinked away the entirely too appealing image to find Trace watching her. His eyes weren’t smoky now, only curious, as if wondering what she was thinking. Heat rushed to her cheeks with her blush, something she hadn’t done in a long time. He wouldn’t be talked out of helping them decorate the tree. Somehow she knew she was stuck in this untenable situation and continuing to protest would only make him wonder why she was so ardently determined to avoid his company.

      Gabi was obviously pleased to have him here and it seemed churlish of Becca to make a deal about it. How long would it take to decorate a tree, anyway?

      â€œThank you, then. I think I saw a box of old ornaments up in the attic in my … my grandfather’s things.”

      â€œGreat. I guess we’re in business.” He headed for the door and returned a moment later with a box that had Extra Christmas Lights written on it with black permanent marker in what looked like a woman’s handwriting. He didn’t have a wife, she knew, so who had written those words? Maybe he had an ex or a steady girlfriend. Not that it was any of her business who might be writing on his boxes, she reminded herself.

      He immediately started untangling the light strings and she watched long, well-formed fingers move nimbly for a moment then jerked her attention away when she realized she was staring.

      â€œGabi, come help me look for the ornaments.”

      Reluctance flitted across the girl’s features as if she didn’t want to leave Trace Bowman’s presence, either, but she followed Becca up the narrow stairs to the cramped storage space under the eaves adjacent to the room Gabi had claimed as her own bedroom.

      The space smelled musty and dusty and was piled with boxes and trunks Becca had barely had time to even look at in the few weeks they’d been in Pine Gulch. She pulled the string on the bare-bulb light and could swear she heard something scurry. They needed a cat, she thought. She didn’t want to add one more responsibility to her plate but a good mouser would be just the thing.

      â€œI think I saw the ornaments somewhere over by the window. Help me look, would you?”

      She and Gabi began sorting through boxes filled with the detritus of a lonely old man’s life. It made her inexpressibly sad to think about the grandfather she hadn’t even known existed. Monica had told her very little about the paternal side of her heritage. She had known her father had died when she was just a baby and Monica had told her she didn’t have any other living relatives on either side.

      Big surprise. She’d lied. This was just one more thing her mother had stolen from her.

      â€œHe’s nice, isn’t he?”

      She glanced at Gabi, who was looking toward the doorway and the stairs with a pensive sort of look.

      â€œHe’s the police chief, Gab. You know what that means.”

      â€œWe haven’t done anything wrong here.”

      â€œExcept tell the world