Brenda Harlen

Merry Christmas, Baby Maverick!


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thoughts, her face flaming as she glanced up to see Trey’s grandmother standing beside her table with a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. Not that Melba Strickland could possibly know what she’d been thinking, but Kayla couldn’t help but feel unnerved by the other woman’s unexpected presence.

      She forced a smile. “Yes, it is,” she agreed.

      “Do you mind if I join you?”

      “Of course not.” There weren’t many empty chairs in the café, and it seemed silly for each of them to sit alone as if they were strangers. Especially considering that Kayla had known the Stricklands for as long as she could remember.

      Melba and Gene were good people, if a little old-fashioned. Or maybe it was just that they were old—probably in their late seventies or early eighties, she guessed, because no one seemed to know for sure. Regardless, their boarding house was a popular place for people looking for long-term accommodations in Rust Creek Falls—so long as they didn’t mind abiding by Melba’s strict rules, which included a ban on overnight visitors. An explicit prohibition that Kayla and Trey had ignored on the Fourth of July.

      “Goodness, this place is bustling.” Melba pulled back the empty chair and settled into it. “The whole mall, I mean. It’s only the first of December, and the stores are packed. It’s as if everyone in Kalispell has decided to go shopping today.”

      “Everyone in Kalispell and half of Rust Creek Falls,” Kayla agreed.

      The older woman chuckled. “Looks like you got an early start,” she noted, glancing at the shopping bags beneath the table.

      “Very early,” Kayla agreed, scooping up some whipped cream and licking it off the spoon.

      “I love everything about Christmas,” Melba confided. “The shopping and wrapping, decorating and baking. But mostly I love the time we spend with family and friends.”

      “Are you going to have a full house over the holidays this year?” Kayla asked.

      “I hope so,” the older woman said. “We’ve had Claire, Levi and Bekka with us since August, and Claire’s sisters have hinted that they might head this way for Christmas, which would be great. I so love having the kids around.”

      Kayla smiled because she knew the kids referred to—Bekka excluded—were all adults.

      They chatted some more about holiday traditions and family plans, then Melba glanced at the clock on the wall. “Goodness—” her eyes grew wide “—is that the time? I’ve only got three hours until I’m meeting Gene for dinner, and all I’ve bought is a cup of coffee.”

      “Mr. Strickland came into the city with you?”

      The older woman nodded. “We’ve got tickets to see A Christmas Carol tonight.”

      “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,” Kayla said. “The whole cast—especially Belle—is fabulous.”

      Melba smiled at her mention of the character played on the stage by Kayla’s sister. “Not that you’re biased at all,” she said with a wink.

      “Well, maybe a little.” Her sister had always loved the theater, but she’d been away from it for a lot of years before deciding to audition for the holiday production in Kalispell. The part of Scrooge’s former fiancée wasn’t a major role, but it was an opportunity for Kristen to get back on stage, and she was loving every minute of it.

      In support of her sister, Kayla had signed on to help behind the scenes. She’d been surprised to discover how much she enjoyed the work—and grateful that keeping busy allowed her to pretend her whole life wasn’t about to change.

      “Lissa and Gage saw it last week and said the costumes were spectacular.”

      “I had fun working on them,” she acknowledged.

      “But you have no desire to wear them onstage?”

      “None at all.”

      “You know, Kristen’s ease at playing different roles has some people wondering if she might be the Rust Creek Rambler.”

      Kayla frowned. “You’re kidding.”

      “Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to betray your sister if she is the author of the gossip column.”

      “She’s not,” Kayla said firmly.

      “I’m sure you would know—they say twins have no secrets from one another,” Melba said. “Besides, she’s been so busy with the play—and now with her new fiancé—when would she have time to write it?”

      “I’m a little surprised there’s been so much recent interest in uncovering the identity of the anonymous author, when the column has been around for almost three years now.”

      “Three and a half,” Melba corrected, proving Kayla’s point. “I suspect interest has piqued because some people think the Rambler is responsible for spiking the punch at the wedding.”

      Kayla gasped. “Why would they think that?”

      “The events of that night have certainly provided a lot of fodder for the column over the past few months,” the older woman pointed out. “It almost makes sense that whoever is writing it might want to help generate some juicy stories.”

      “That’s a scary thought.”

      “Isn’t it?” Melba finished her coffee and set her cup down. “The Rambler also noted that you were up close and personal with my grandson, Trey, on the dance floor at Braden and Jennifer’s wedding.”

      Kayla had long ago accepted that in order to ensure no one ever suspected she was the Rambler, it was necessary to drop her own name into the column every once in a while. Since her turn on the dance floor with Trey hadn’t gone unnoticed, the Rambler would be expected to comment on it. As for up close and personal—that hadn’t come until later, and she had no intention of confiding that truth to Trey’s grandmother.

      Instead, she lifted her cup to her lips—only to discover that it was empty. She set it down again. “We danced,” she admitted.

      “That’s all?” Melba sounded almost disappointed.

      “That’s all,” Kayla echoed, her cheeks flushing. She’d never been a very good liar, and lying to Trey’s grandmother—her own baby’s great-grandmother—wasn’t easy, even if it was necessary.

      The older woman sighed. “I’ve been hoping for a long time that Trey would find a special someone to settle down with. If I had my choice, that special someone would live in Rust Creek Falls, so that he’d want to come back home here—or at least visit more often.”

      “Maybe he already has someone special in Thunder Canyon,” she suggested, aiming for a casual tone.

      “I’m sure he would have told me if he did,” Melba said. “I know he sees girls, but he’s never been serious about any of them. No one except Lana.”

      “Lana?” she echoed.

      Melba’s brow furrowed. “Maybe you don’t know about Lana. I guess Jerry and Barbara had already moved away from Rust Creek Falls before Trey met her.”

      Kayla hadn’t considered that the father of her baby might be involved with someone else—or that he might even have been in a relationship when he was visiting in the summer. Thinking about the possibility now made her feel sick. She honestly didn’t think Trey was that kind of guy—but the reality was that neither of them had been thinking very clearly the night of the wedding.

      “Anyway, he met Lana at some small local rodeo, where she won the division championship for barrel racing,” the other woman continued. “I think it was actually her horse that caught his eye before she did, but it wasn’t too long after that they were inseparable.

      “They were together for almost two years, and apparently Trey had even started looking at engagement