The Heart of Christmas

The intensity on his face made her think he might return to the bed. But then he reined himself in, hard, and that hungry expression was hidden by a stoic mask. “Just because I don’t say everything you want me to doesn’t mean I feel nothing.”

It took a moment for her to collect herself, but as he started down the hall, she called out, “It’s a long walk to town. And it’s December. Are you sure you don’t want me to give you a ride?”

“No, I’ll make my own way back,” he replied.

2 (#ulink_4385abc3-48e8-5d48-b0e6-42f2c76ab3b9)

That was a mistake. Rex McCready knew better than to let himself get involved with a woman like the one he’d just slept with. But last night he’d been craving more than a perfunctory encounter. He’d been hoping to assuage the aching loneliness that plagued him, to finally connect on an emotionally honest and intimate level.

It’d been so long since he’d felt close to anyone. To make matters worse, he’d been traveling from town to town for over a week, which meant he’d spent Thanksgiving in a hotel room, alone. The holidays were always rough, regardless of where he happened to be.

But if he wasn’t careful, he’d drag another innocent party into the mess he’d created. And he couldn’t do that. Four years ago, he’d almost lost the only woman he’d ever loved to the men who were looking for him. Allowing himself to care about someone else merely threw him back into the same situation, a situation that left him vulnerable—and made anyone he cared about vulnerable, too.

Last night he’d acted selfishly and he’d gotten drunk to give himself the excuse. But he had a sneaking suspicion that even without the whiskey, it would’ve been impossible to resist the beautiful woman who’d singled him out at the bar.

Eve. That was her name. He’d heard the waitress who drove them back to her place call her that, and he’d found it as ironic then as he did now. She’d tempted him and he’d fallen, although she wasn’t the kind of woman he should be with. She was far too innocent, too trusting, too conservative in her ideals. She hung on to the people in her life; he could tell that from the little she’d told him.

He glanced back at her bungalow with a regret he didn’t want to feel. If he could’ve stayed a bit longer, made love to her when they were both sober—that would’ve done a lot more to fill the gaping hole inside him. But he was only driving himself crazy by dwelling on what he couldn’t have. He didn’t want to be responsible for bringing danger into anyone’s life—and if he’d learned anything since being released from prison, it was that associating with him could be dangerous.

At least the hours they’d been together had given him a much-needed escape, even if it was far too brief.

A truck came rumbling up from behind. He stuck out his thumb, hoping to catch a ride, but the driver squinted at him through the dirty windshield as if he couldn’t imagine any normal person hitchhiking these back roads in the chilly dawn, and drove on.

So much for people in the country being more trusting than those in the city, Rex thought. In his travels, he’d discovered that it was often the opposite. But he wasn’t worried about having to make the long trek to town on foot. He could travel five miles in an hour. According to his smartphone, Whiskey Creek was 4.1 miles due north. Besides, he enjoyed being in motion. There was a cathartic quality about covering the ground with a quick, purposeful stride. It appeased the restless wanderer inside him who never seemed to be content, never seemed to be comfortable coming to a complete stop. Even when he remained in one place, he found himself jiggling his knee to siphon off excess energy.

But if he didn’t make good time, he’d leave his assistant hanging around the park where he was supposed to meet her, and he didn’t want her to panic, thinking something had happened to him. He’d never had to go into hiding like this before, not since she’d come to work for him, so she was already a little freaked out.

He phoned her at home, hoping he could catch her before she left.

“Marilyn?”

“How’s the prospecting?”

A lot of people came to this area to look for gold in the rivers and streams of the Sierra Nevada foothills. Some did quite well. Although that was ostensibly his reason for choosing this particular spot for his “vacation,” it was too cold in December and he didn’t really know what he was doing. “I tried it once.” And nearly froze his nuts off. “Found nothing. About this morning—”

“I’m glad you called,” she broke in. “I’m running late. My husband left the interior light on in my car, and it wouldn’t start, even after a jump. He’s putting in a new battery.”

She sounded frustrated. She liked coming to work early so she could head home at three-thirty. But the fact that she was behind schedule suited him fine. “No worries, since I can’t make our original meeting time, either.”

“Why not? Is everything okay?”

She knew he wouldn’t have stepped away from the helm of his company, especially in such a hurry, unless he had no choice. She just didn’t know the nature of the threat he faced. Working in personal security for several years, he’d come up against some pretty bad dudes, any one of whom could want to even the score. Marilyn probably assumed he was dealing with a situation like that. But this particular problem was much bigger than anything he’d ever encountered with a client and it stemmed from before he’d started All About Security, Inc. This went all the way back to a time when he’d been a different sort of man.

“It’s fine—for the moment.” He grimaced at the ribbon of road winding through the hills in front of him and blew on his hands to warm them. There was no snow on the ground, but there was plenty of frost. “So when will you get here?”

“That’ll depend on whether or not a new battery does the trick.”

“Fine. Text me when you leave.” Since she was coming from the Bay Area, where his office was located, he’d have two hours from that point.

“I will.”

“Perfect.”

“Are we still meeting in the little park you told me about?” she asked before he could end the call.

“Yes. Right next to the giant gold-panning statue.” He preferred public places in case she’d been followed. That was for her safety and his; he didn’t like the idea of someone kicking in the door to his room and shooting him before he could draw his own weapon. Although it wasn’t legal for an ex-con to own a firearm in California, let alone carry concealed, he wasn’t nearly as afraid of the cops as he was of the other side. He disregarded that no-firearms stipulation whenever he felt the situation warranted it. He’d been fighting to preserve his own life so long that he simply did what he had to do.

But, as vulnerable as it made him feel, he didn’t have his gun with him now. He’d certainly known not to take it into a bar. These days a lot of places screened patrons before letting them in and, last night, he’d needed a break badly enough to go unarmed.

“I’m sure I won’t miss it,” she said. “I’ll see you soon.”

He was just putting his phone away when he heard the approach of another vehicle. This one slowed before he could stick out his thumb, and the driver, an old man, leaned across the seat and lowered the window.

“Hey, you need a ride?”

“I do.” Flashing the guy a grateful smile, Rex climbed in.

* * *

“Why didn’t you come to coffee this morning?”

Eve turned to see Cheyenne, her very pregnant best friend, waddle into the small office at the back of the B and B and bend down to put her purse under the desk. Although Cheyenne had cut back on her hours, first when she got married and then when her sister returned to town so she could help out by babysitting her toddler nephew, she still came in four days a week. Her schedule would change again, however, once she had the baby. As much as Eve hated the thought, she would probably have to find a replacement, at least temporarily. She was already working all the hours she could to compensate.

“I woke up late.” She feigned more interest than she really had in the bill-paying process she’d started as soon as she arrived. Ever since her competitor, A Room with a View, opened up down the street, it had been a struggle to remain solvent. But she’d fought long and hard and wasn’t about to give up any time soon. Not only would this B and B one day be her inheritance, it felt like a member of the family. And since her siblings, two brothers, were nearly fifteen years older and had lived in Texas since they both joined the air force, she didn’t feel she had any family members to spare.

“It wasn’t the same without you,” Cheyenne commented.

“Who came?”

“Dylan, of course.”

Chey’s husband had joined them ever since the two started dating.

“Then there were Ted and Sophia,” Chey went on, glossing over those two names as she always did since Eve had dated Ted last Christmas. “Brandon and Olivia, Callie and Levi, Noah and Addy.”

All couples. In the past few years, the dynamic of the whole group had changed.

“Oh, and Presley stopped by,” Cheyenne added. “She was passing out invites to her wedding. I have yours in my purse.”

Eve swiveled her chair around to accept it. Another wedding. Presley wasn’t a member of their original clique. She was Cheyenne’s older sister by two years. But that didn’t matter. Eve felt she’d soon be the only single person in Whiskey Creek, other than their friends Kyle and Riley. Thank God neither of them had tied the knot. Actually, Kyle had been married briefly to Noelle, the waitress who’d given her and her mystery lover a ride home last night. And Riley had once been engaged.

Eve hadn’t even gotten that close to the altar.

“Where were they?” she asked, setting Presley’s wedding invitation aside. “They’re almost as regular as I am.”

“I don’t know, but we thought it was strange that all three of you didn’t show up.”

All three of you singles. Crazy how quickly they’d become the minority....