Gage said, accepting the third bowl of chili Jess’s mom had shoved in front of him. The meal was delicious, but the straight-backed kitchen chair was about as comfortable as a cedar fence rail. Don’t even get him started on the one rowdy munchkin jawing his ears off about Tyrannosaurus rex eggs, and the other not-so-rowdy—okay, downright hostile—munchkin shooting him laserlike death stares.
Georgia, on the other hand, made for pleasant enough company with her gentle chatter about the weather and her corn bread recipe and how her husband should be here just any minute to fetch her in his four-wheel drive. Gage missed his own mom. This Christmas would be tough on her—most especially without him there. But she had his father and many friends to help her through. He just couldn’t bring himself to see her; she reminded him too much of Marnie.
Maybe he’d go home for her birthday in March.
Doc had long since finished up on Honey, calmed Buttercup and taken off to help his wife wrap gifts for their six grandkids. Gage would’ve been on his way, but seeing how Jess’s mom was still hanging around, he was obliged to stay.
Georgia fixed herself a second bowl of chili, sprinkled it with Colby Jack, then dropped into a straight-backed chair alongside him. “Ray Hawkins worked miracles on that old bunkhouse stove. Gage, you should be snug as a bug out there all through this storm.”
“Actually…”
“He’s staying? Here? In the bunkhouse? That’s where I play Barbies.” Lexie shoved her chair back, and stomped from the room.
“Sorry,” Jess said. “Ever since her dad…”
Gage knew well enough what she left unsaid. Ever since the girl’s dad had died, she didn’t cotton to any new men sniffing around her mom. Well, she’d be safe from him. He’d be leaving soon, and besides, with all he’d been through in the past few months, he certainly wasn’t looking for a woman.
Granted, Jess was a fine-looking woman.
Tall, with a figure just right for holding. A long mess of fiery-red hair that suited what he’d imagined to be an equally hot temper. And then there were her eyes. Mostly gray with a tinge of blue. On a sunny day, would they match the sky?
Too bad he’d never know.
“Thank you, ma’am, for this meal,” he said to Georgia.
“You’re most welcome,” she said, glowing from the compliment. “From the looks of you, a winter’s worth of home cooking will do you good.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He had lost weight, but hadn’t realized it showed. Not that it mattered.
“Mister Gage,” Ashley said, “did you know a T-rex could bite through somebody and kill them with just one chomp? He’d mash them, squirting out their blood all over the place—just like a Fruit Gusher.”
“Ashley Grace Cummings,” Georgia scolded. “Must you speak of such things at the dinner table?”
“It’s true,” the girl said, slathering enough butter atop a corn muffin that it looked more like a frosted cupcake. “I figured Mister Gage should know to be careful. Just in case he ever sees one.”
“Thanks,” he said with a nod. “You’re right, you can never be too careful around those T-rex’s. Especially where I’m from in Texas.”
“Where’s that?” Jess asked, pushing her chair back and standing. She hadn’t even finished her first bowl of chili. Whereas he’d lost a few pounds, upon closer inspection, without her heavy coat, she looked scary thin.
“Dallas. T-rexes on every corner. Good thing Miss Ashley, here, told me to watch out, or I’d be someone’s dinner.”
“I hope a T-rex does get you.” Peeking around the corner from the living room into the kitchen was Lexie, wearing a satisfied smile. “At least then, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Lexie!” Georgia and Jess apologized on the girl’s behalf, but Gage shrugged off their concern. It was all right. He and Lexie had more in common than she could ever possibly know. As such, he’d cut the kid some slack. More than a few times lately, he’d caught himself just short of railing on some poor waitress who’d botched his order. Or his manager for booking too many public appearances when Gage had specifically asked for none.
Jess’s ranch would have been a wonderful place to hide.
Spend downtime nursing emotional wounds with hard work and—
“Heavens,” Georgia said, glancing toward the porch at the sound of an unholy crash. “What was that?”
The back door burst open.
A red-faced, burly man dressed in a flannel shirt and denim overalls looked right at Gage, introduced himself as Jess’s father, Harold, and said, “It’s a darned good thing you’re sticking around for a while because, judging by the mess I just made of my truck, you’re gonna want to stay put.”
SURVEYING THE DAMAGE her father had done to her porch rail, Jess didn’t even try suppressing a groan.
This was a bad joke, right?
Like her home wasn’t already ramshackle enough.
“Sorry, doodlebug,” her father said beneath the porch’s tin roof, kissing her cheek. He practically had to shout to be heard above the clattering ice. “Just as soon as this weather clears, I’ll be over to fix the damage. With Gage’s help, shouldn’t take much longer than an afternoon.”
“Th-that’s all right, Dad.” Arms crossed, teeth chattering, Jess glanced Gage’s way. He wasn’t going to go back on his word, was he? And tell her dad he wouldn’t be staying? “You couldn’t have helped it.” The driveway was completely ice-slicked and her dad had simply lost control.
“Are you hurt?” Georgia asked, worry creasing her brow.
“Whoa!” nine-year-old Lexie said, off the porch and sliding on the icy drive in her pink snow boots. “Grandpa, you did a movie stunt!”
“I love you,” Ashley said, pouring on the sweetness by hugging her grandfather’s legs. “I’m glad you didn’t get hurt from your movie stunt.”
“I’m fine,” he said, kissing Georgia.
“Think we need to stay here tonight?” his wife asked.
“Probably,” he said with a sigh, “but if we do, who’s going to look after the dogs?”
“Yeah,” Jess prodded, yet not without a pang of guilt. “You can’t forget about the dogs.” Just like I can’t forget that if only you two would leave, so would Gage. What kind of daughter was she? Wishing her parents out into this storm?
“We’ll be fine,” Jess’s dad reassured. “In case we can’t make it over, I brought the girls’ presents. But we’re going to have to hustle to unload, then get back on the road.”
“Okay,” Georgia said, already heading inside. “Let me get my coat, and I’ll be right out to help.”
“Wanna bet it takes her a good ten minutes to get back out here?” Jess’s dad asked Gage with a good-natured grin.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Gage replied.
Georgia was back outside in five minutes. After a flurry of rushing back and forth with packages—little Ashley excited about each one, Lexie more reserved, almost as if she were trying to hide her excitement—Jess waved her parents on their way, saying a quick prayer for their safety.
The second her father’s truck’s brake lights cleared the drive, Ashley suggested, “Let’s open all of Gramma and Grandpa’s presents!”
“N-nope,” Jess said, teeth chattering while she ushered the girls inside. “N-not until Christmas morning. But thanks for the idea. I think since I’m a grown-up, I’ll go ahead