“Have you ever thought about moving your operations out to this neck of the woods?” Chase asked. “We don’t have a lot of hospitals and the like going up, but there are always construction projects around here, especially in the Jackson area.”
The question took him by surprise. Three months ago he would have given an emphatic no to that question. He had a business in Southern California, contacts and subcontractors and jobs he had fought hard to win.
He glanced at Olivia. He had other things to concern himself with now, like what might be best for his daughter.
Small-town life seemed to agree with her, he had to admit. Maybe she would be able to heal better if she were away for longer than just a few weeks from the life they had both known in California.
A change of scenery appeared to have helped the Nichols sisters move beyond the trauma in their past.
“I haven’t,” he answered truthfully. “It’s definitely something to think about.”
He glanced across the table to see Celeste listening in, though she was pretending not to.
What would she think if he stuck around town a little longer than a few weeks?
Probably nothing, he told himself. They meant nothing to each other.
“What are you doing with that property of your grandmother’s?” Mary asked.
“I’m hoping to put it up for sale in the next few weeks.”
“You’re not planning to subdivide it, are you?” she asked, her gaze narrowed.
He could probably make more money if he did that, but somehow he didn’t think his grandparents would approve.
“That’s a nice piece of land there by the Cold Creek,” Brannon said. “Somebody could build a beautiful house on it if they were so inclined.”
If he were going to stay here—which he most definitely wasn’t, based on a simple dinner conversation—he probably would take the bones of the house and add on to it, opening up a wall here or there and rebuilding the kitchen and bathrooms.
It was a nice, comfortable house, perfectly situated with a gorgeous view of the mountains, but it was too small and cramped for comfort, with tiny rooms and an odd flow.
All this was theoretical. He planned to sell the property as-is, not take on another project. He had enough to do right now while he was helping his daughter recover the shattered bits of her life and learn to go on without the mother she had adored.
The conversation drifted during the dinner from topic to topic. The Nicholses seemed an eclectic group, with wide-ranging interests and opinions. Even the children joined in the discussion, discussing their projects at school, the upcoming show, the movie deal they were celebrating.
He was astonished to discover he enjoyed every moment of it. This was exactly what a family should be, he thought, noisy and chaotic and wonderful.
He had never known this growing up as an only child whose parents had stayed together much longer than they should have. He had learned to live without a family over the years, but it made his chest ache that his daughter would never have it, either.
* * *
Her sisters were matchmaking.
Celeste could tell by the surreptitious glances Faith and Hope sent between her and Flynn, the leading little questions they asked him, the way they not-so-subtly discussed the upcoming movie deal, careful to focus on Celeste’s literary success, as if they were trying to sell a prize pig at the market.
It was humiliating, and she could only hope he hadn’t noticed.
How could they possibly think Flynn might be interested in her in the first place? If they had bothered to ask her, she would have explained how ludicrous she found the very idea.
They didn’t ask her, of course. They’d simply gone ahead and invited the poor man to dinner. Why he agreed to come, she had no idea. By the time dessert rolled around, she still hadn’t figured it out—nor did she understand how he and Olivia seemed to fit in so effortlessly with her family.
Hope and Faith and Aunt Mary all liked him, she could tell, and Chase and Rafe treated him with courtesy and respect.
As for her, she liked having the two of them here entirely too much.
She tried to reel herself back, to force herself to remember this was only temporary. They were only at the ranch for the evening. Her sisters’ matchmaking intentions were destined to failure. Not only wasn’t he interested in her, but he had made it abundantly clear he was going back to California as soon as he could.
“Practice went well, don’t you think?” Hope asked, distracting her from that depressing thought. “The kids seemed to be into it, and what I heard was wonderful.”
“It won’t win any Tony Awards, but it should be fun,” she answered.
“With all you have going on around here, I still can’t figure out why you decided to throw a show for local senior citizens,” Flynn said.
Hope took the chance to answer him. “We’ve always had so much community support over the years here at The Christmas Ranch, from the very moment Uncle Claude opened the doors. The people of Pine Gulch have been great to us, and we wanted to give back a little. I guess we picked senior citizens because so many of them feel alone during the holiday season.”
“Many of these people have been friends with me and my late husband for years,” Mary added. “This seemed a good chance to offer them a little holiday spirit.”
“I think it’s nice,” Louisa declared. “So do my friends. That’s why they agreed to do it.”
Celeste smiled at her niece, who had a very tender heart despite the tragedy of losing her father.
“I do, too,” she answered.
“Is Sparkle going to show up at the party?” Barrett asked.
“I think we’re going to have to see about that next week,” Faith answered her son. “He’s been acting a little down the past few days.”
Celeste frowned at her sister. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked, alarmed.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing,” she answered. “He’s just off his feed a bit. I ended up bringing him up here to his stall at the main barn to see if being back with the horses for a day or two would cheer him up.”
Sparkle had a particularly soft spot for Mistletoe, an old mare who used to be Uncle Claude’s. “I’m sure that’s it,” Celeste said.
“Maybe he just misses you, CeCe,” Hope suggested. “You haven’t been down to see him in a while.”
Celeste rolled her eyes. “Right. I’m sure he’s pining away.”
It was true that she and Sparkle were old friends. The reindeer was warm and affectionate, far more than most of their small herd.
“You ought to go down to the barn to say hello while you’re here,” Faith suggested.
“Can I go meet Sparkle?” Olivia asked, her eyes huge as she followed the conversation. “I would love to.”
She had told the girl she would take her to meet the inspiration for the books she loved so much. “He enjoys company. I’m sure he would love to meet you.”
“Can we go now?” the girl pressed.
She looked at the table laden with delicious dishes she had done nothing to help prepare. Yes, she could claim a good excuse—being busy directing the show and all—but Uncle Claude and Aunt Mary had always been clear. If you didn’t help cook a meal, you were obligated to help clean it up.
“I need to help clear these dishes first,” she said.
“Oh,