Christmas in Cold Creek

Trace carefully wound the colored lights on the branches of their Christmas tree, listening to Becca and Gabi talk quietly as they pulled glass ornaments from a cardboard box. Something was not exactly as it appeared in this household. He couldn’t put his finger on what precisely it might be but he’d caught more than one unreadable exchange of glances between Becca and her daughter, as if they were each warning the other to be careful with her words.

What secrets could they have? He had to wonder if they were on the run from something. A jealous ex? A custody dispute? That was the logical conclusion but not one that sat comfortably with him. He didn’t like the idea that Becca might be breaking the law, or worse, in danger somehow. That would certainly make his attraction for her even more inconvenient.

He couldn’t have said why he was still here. His plan when Destry had begged him to do this had been to merely do a quick drop-off of the tree, the stand and the lights. He’d intended to let Becca and Gabi deal with the tree while he headed down the street for a comfortable night of basketball in front of the big screen with his squash-faced little dog at his feet.

Instead, when he had shown up on the doorstep, she had looked so obviously taken aback—and touched, despite herself—that he had decided spending a little time with the two of them was more fascinating than even the most fierce battle on the hardwood.

He wasn’t sorry. Gabi was a great kid. Smart and funny, with clever little observations about life. She, at least, had been thrilled by the donated Christmas tree, almost as if she’d never had a tree before. At some point, Gabi had tuned in on a Christmas station on a small boom box–type radio she brought from her bedroom. Though he still wasn’t a big fan of the holiday, he couldn’t deny there was something very appealing about working together on a quiet evening while snowflakes fluttered down outside and Nat King Cole’s velvet voice filled the room.

It reminded him of happier memories when he was a kid, before the Christmas that had changed everything.

“That’s the last of the lights. You ready to flip the switch?”

“Can I?” Gabi asked, her eyes bright.

“Sure thing.”

She plugged in the lights and they reflected green and red and gold in her eyes. “It looks wonderful!”

“It really does,” Becca agreed. “Thank you for your help.”

Her words were another clear dismissal and he decided to ignore it. He wasn’t quite ready to leave this warm room yet. “Now we can start putting up those ornaments.”

She chewed her lip, clearly annoyed with him, but he only smiled and reached into the box for a couple of colored globes.

“So where were you before you moved to Pine Gulch?” he asked after a few moments of hanging ornaments. Though he pitted his question as casual curiosity, she didn’t seem fooled.

Becca and her daughter exchanged another look and she waited a moment before answering. “Arizona,” she finally said, her voice terse.

“Were you waitressing there?”

“No. I did a lot of different things,” she said evasively. “What about you? How long have you been chief of police for the good people of Pine Gulch?”

He saw through her attempt to deflect his questions. He was fond of the same technique when he wanted to guide a particular discussion in an interview. He thought about calling her on it but decided to let her set the tone. This wasn’t an interrogation, after all. Only a conversation.

“I’ve been on the force for about ten years, chief for the last three.”

“You seem young for the job.”

“I’m thirty-two. Not that young. You must have been a baby yourself when you had Gabi, right?”

He thought he saw a tiny flicker of something indefinable in the depths of her hazel eyes but she quickly concealed it. “Something like that. I was eighteen when she was born. What about you? Any wife and kiddos in the picture?”

Again the diversionary tactics. Interesting. “Nope. Never married. Just my brothers and a sister.”

“And you all live close?”

“Right. My older brother runs the family ranch, the River Bow, just outside town. We run about six hundred head. My younger sister helps him around the ranch and with Destry. Then my twin brother, Taft, is the fire chief. You might have seen him around town. He’s a little hard to miss since we’re identical.”

“Wow. There are two of you?”

“Nope. Only one. Taft is definitely his own man.”

She smiled a little as she reached to hang an ornament on a higher branch. Her soft curves brushed his shoulder—completely accidental, he knew—and his stomach muscles contracted. He hadn’t felt this little zing of attraction in a long, long time and he wanted to savor every moment of it, despite his better instincts reminding him he knew very little about the woman and what he did know didn’t seem completely truthful.

She moved away to the other side of the tree and picked up a pearly white globe ornament from the box.

He thought her color was a little higher than it had been before but that could have been only the reflection from the Christmas lights.

“You haven’t had the urge to explore distant pastures? See what’s out there beyond Pine Gulch?”

“Been there, done that. I spent four years as a Marine MP, with tours in the Middle East, Germany, Japan. I was ready to be back home.”

He didn’t like to think about what had happened after he came home, restless and looking for trouble. He’d found it, far more than he ever imagined, in the form of a devious little liar named Lilah Bodine.

“And the small-town life appeals to you?”

“Pine Gulch is a nice place to live. You won’t find a prettier place on earth in the summertime and people here watch out for each other.”

“I’m not sure that’s always a good thing, is it? Isn’t that small-town code for snooping in other people’s business?”

What in her past had made her so cynical? And what business did she have that made her eager to keep others out of it?

“That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. Some people find it a comfort to know they’ve always got someone to turn to when times are tough.”

“I’m used to counting on myself.”

Before he could respond to that, Gabi popped her head around the side of the Christmas tree, a small porcelain angel with filigree wings in her hand. “This was the last ornament in the box,” she said. “Where should I put it?”

Becca looked at the tree. “Well, we don’t have anything at the top. Why don’t we put her there?”

“That seems about right,” Trace said. “A tree as pretty as this one deserves to have an angel watching over it.”

“Okay. I’ll have to get a chair.”

“Why?” He grinned at the girl and picked her up. She seemed skinny for her age and she giggled a little as he hefted her higher to reach the top of the tree. She tucked the little angel against the top branch and secured her with the clip attached to her back.

“Perfect,” Gabi exclaimed when she was done.

He lowered her to the ground and the girl hurried to turn off the light switch to the overhead fixture and the two lamps until the room was dark except for the gleaming, colorful tree.

They all stepped back a little for a better look. Much to his surprise, as he stood in this dark, dingy little house with that soft music in the background and the snow drifting past the window and the tree lights flickering, he felt the first nudge of Christmas spirit he’d experienced in a long, long time.

“It’s magical,” Gabi breathed.

Becca leaned down and hugged her. “You know what, kiddo? Magical is exactly the right word.”

They all stood still for a moment. Becca was the first to break the spell.