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A Cold Creek Holiday
RaeAnne Thayne
A CHRISTMAS SECRET… Emery wants to flee hard memories of Christmases past. The mountains of Idaho offer distraction…plus the key to a long-buried family secret. But her host, rancher Nate, hardly gives her a warm welcome… The former soldier’s smouldering good looks mask a dark, painful past. And now he has his hands full as guardian of two orphaned nieces.Still, despite his rough manner, Nate can’t ignore his fierce attraction to Emery or his nieces’ instant attachment to her – until Emery shares a shocking secret. Will it be a lonely Christmas for four lost souls? Or the best family holiday ever?


Nate gazed at Emery in the multicolored light from the Christmas tree.
Her sweep of blond hair reflected sparkles of red and gold and purple. All those tender emotions he had fought so hard against returned stronger than ever and he couldn’t help himself. He stepped forward and lowered his mouth to hers.

She sighed his name as he kissed her, and her arms slid around his neck.

Now. Now the night felt perfect. Their kiss was slow and easy, like sinking into a soft bed at the end of a hard day.
Her mouth made him crazy. He thought he could spend forever just exploring every inch of those lips. He pulled her closer while the fire hummed and sparked behind them.

He wanted Emery Kendall more than all the Christmas presents he had ever wanted in his life put together.

A Cold Creek Holiday
By

RaeAnne Thayne



www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader,

Being a writer is a magical thing. What a marvelous opportunity—to be able to create people out of only my imagination. By the time I’ve finished a book, my characters always feel like real friends to me.

They become people I care about, who inevitably have a lasting impact in my life. That’s why it was such a delight to revisit the Dalton family in A Cold Creek Holiday.
I’ve written other books set in Cold Creek and have had characters of previous books make guest appearances occasionally, but never to the extent of this story. So many of my previous characters played significant roles in the story of Emery Kendall and Nate Cavazos. In a way, seeing them all again was like a warm, crazy, fun family reunion. It definitely felt like coming home.

And isn’t that what the holidays are all about?

My very best to you and yours this holiday season.

RaeAnne

About the Author
RAEANNE THAYNE finds inspiration in the beautiful northern Utah mountains, where she lives with her husband and three children. Her books have won numerous honors, including three RITA
Award nominations from Romance Writers of America and a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews magazine. RaeAnne loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.raeannethayne.com.
To Elden and RaNae Robinson, my parents, for fifty wonderful years together. I love you!

Chapter One
Few things gave a woman a sense of her own vulnerability like driving on an unfamiliar mountain road in the dark through a snowstorm.
Her knuckles white on the wheel of the small SUV she had rented at the Jackson Hole Airport, Emery Kendall squinted through the blowing flakes the wipers tried to beat away, desperate for any sign she was even on the right road.
The GPS unit on the rental wasn’t working—naturally—and the directions she had printed off the Internet had already proved fallible twice.
She let out a breath. Stupid. This whole thing was a colossal mistake. What had seemed like such a logical plan in September, even a welcome excuse to escape the weight of her pain and grief and memories during the holidays, had lost a great deal of its allure the first time her tires slipped in the two or three inches of unplowed snow and the vehicle slid toward the ominous stretch of river ribboning beside the canyon road.
She had every reason to hate driving in the snow. It brought back too much pain, too many memories, and she couldn’t help asking herself what on earth she was doing here. She should be safe at home in Virginia, snug in her townhouse with a fire crackling in the grate and a mug of hot cocoa at her elbow while she tried to wrap her recalcitrant head around her latest project.
Alone.
She clicked the wipers up to a faster rhythm as she approached a slight break in the dark silhouette of trees lining either side of the road.
A log arch over the side road was barely visible in her headlights, but she saw enough to make out the words burned into the wood.
Hope Springs Guest Ranch. Finally.
The owners really ought to think about a few well-placed landscaping lights so weary travelers knew they were in the right place.
Not that it was any of her business how they ran their guest ranch. Right now the only thing she cared about was reaching her rented cabin, hauling her things inside and collapsing on the bed for the next two or three days.
She turned into the driveway, which was unplowed with no tracks indicating anyone else had driven this way recently, at least not since the snow started to fall.
As the tires of the four-wheel-drive whirred through the virgin powder, that sense of vulnerability and unease returned, not so much from the weather now as the sobering realization that she was heading alone to a strange place—and, she had to admit, from the knowledge that the Cold Creek Land & Cattle Company was only a mile or so up the road.
The Daltons. Three men, brothers. Wade, Jake and Seth.
A tangle of conflicting emotions tumbled through her, but she quickly pushed them all away, as she had been doing since the September night when her mother’s dying confession had rocked the entire foundation of her world.
Not now. All that could wait. At the moment, the more pressing need was to get out of this snow before she became hopelessly stranded and ended up freezing to death in a snow bank on the side of some obscure mountain road.
No Christmas lights illuminated the night, which she found odd for a guest ranch. Even a little string of white lights along the fenceline would have provided a much more cheery welcome than the unrelenting darkness.
Just when she was wondering if she had imagined that sign out front, she reached a cluster of buildings. A white-painted barn and a two-story log home dominated the scene and she was relieved to see the house ablaze with light.
The woman she had spoken with when she made the reservation months ago told her to check in at the main house. She had confirmed her reservation a few weeks ago and received the same instructions, though this time from a rather flighty sounding girl who had been somewhat vague, even as she assured Emery everything was in order for her arrival.
A cold wind dug under her jacket as she walked up the steps to the wide front porch, and she was grateful for her wool scarf and hat.
She rang the bell beside a carved wooden door and a few seconds later she heard from inside the thud of running feet and a decidedly young female voice. “Doorbell! Somebody’s here! I’ll get it, Uncle Nate.”
Three heartbeats later, the door swung open and a dark-eyed girl of perhaps seven or eight peered out.
She didn’t say anything, didn’t even smile, just simply gazed out in her blue thermal pajamas, as if finding a bedraggled traveler on their doorstep in the middle of a stormy December night was a daily occurrence.
She supposed it likely was. They did run a guest ranch, after all.
Despite the girl’s impassive expression, Emery forced a smile. “Hi. I’m Emery Kendall. I think I’m expected. I’m sorry I’m so late.”
“It’s okay. We’re not in bed yet. Just a minute.” She shifted her head and called over her shoulder. “Uncle Nate. It’s a lady in a really pretty hat.”
Emery touched her cloche, one of her own creations.
The girl held the door wide-open, but Emery didn’t feel quite right about walking inside, invited only by an eight-year-old. Conversely, she also didn’t feel right about standing in the open doorway, allowing all the delicious warmth from inside to wash past her and dissipate in the storm.
Before she could make up her mind, a man in a dark green wool henley, flannel shirt and Levi’s walked into the entry.
He exuded danger, from his hard eyes to his unsmiling mouth to the solid, unyielding set to his jaw.
She had that unsettling cognizance of her own vulnerability again. Who knew she was coming to Idaho? Only Lulu, the manager of her store, and Freddie, her best friend.
Solitary Traveler Shows Up at Dark Mountain Lodge in a Storm, Never to Be Heard from Again. She could just see the headline now.
Or maybe she had spent too many sleepless nights in the past two years watching old Alfred Hitchcock movies on the classic film channel.
Just because the man looked dangerous didn’t mean he necessarily was. How many serial killers sent little girls who called them Uncle Nate to greet their victims?
“Yes?” he asked, in a decidedly unwelcoming tone.
“I’m Emery Kendall.”
He met her gaze with raised eyebrows and a blank look. “Sorry, is that supposed to mean something to me?”
If not for that sign out front, she would have worried she had the wrong place. Now she just wondered what wires had been crossed about her arrival date.
Either that, or this was the most inhospitable guest lodge it had ever been her misfortune to find.
“I have a reservation to stay in one of your cabins until the twenty-seventh of December,” she said, fighting down that unease again. “I made the initial reservation several months ago and confirmed it only a few weeks ago with a woman named Joanie something or other. I have the paperwork if you’d like to confirm it.”
“Joanie ran off.” The pajama-clad girl had followed the man back into the room and she spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “Uncle Nate is really mad.”
“Uncle Nate” did indeed look upset. His mouth tightened even more and his eyes darkened to a hard black. She felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for the unknown woman. She wouldn’t like to have all that leashed frustration aimed in her direction.
“Damn fool woman,” he muttered.
For one crazy moment, she thought he meant her, then realized he must be referring to the absent Joanie.
“Is there a problem?” She couldn’t help stating the obvious.
“You might say that.” He raked a hand through short dark hair. “We run a pretty low-key operation here, Ms. Kendall. This isn’t your average five-star hotel. We’ve only got a few guest cabins that are mostly empty in the winter.”
“I understood that completely when I made the reservation. I saw the Web site and reviews and talked at length about the amenities with the woman who initially took my reservation. I’m perfectly fine with the arrangements.”
She didn’t add that they were ideal for her purposes, to be left alone for the holidays, away from the gaiety and the frenzy and the memories.
Not to mention the proximity of Hope Springs Guest Ranch to the Cold Creek ranch.
“Yeah, well, we’ve got one employee who usually handles everything from reservations to making the beds. Joanie Reynolds.”
“And?”
“And three days ago, she ran off with a cowboy she met at the Million Dollar Bar and I haven’t seen her since. You want the truth, we’re in a hell of a mess.”
He didn’t look apologetic in the slightest, only frustrated, as if the whole mess were Emery’s fault.
She was exhausted suddenly from the long day of traveling, from flight delays and long security lines and two hours of driving on unfamiliar roads. All she wanted was to sink into a bed somewhere and sleep until she could think straight once more.
“What do you suggest I do, then? I had a reservation. I made a deposit and everything. And I’ve been traveling for eight hours.”
She heard the slightly forlorn note in her voice and wanted to wince. Nate Whoever-He-Was must have heard it, too. A trace of regret flickered in the depths of those dangerous dark eyes.
He sighed heavily. “Come in out of the cold. We’ll figure something out.”
She hesitated for just a moment, that serial-killer scenario flitting through her head again, but she pushed it away. Little girl, remember?
Inside the house, she was immediately struck by the vague sense of neglect. The furnishings were warm and comfortable, an appealing mix of antique, reproduction and folk art pieces. Through the doorway, she glimpsed a great room with soaring vaulted ceilings. A lovely old schoolhouse quilt had prominence against the wall and she fought the urge to whip out her sketchbook and pencils to get those particular umber and moss tones down on paper.
But she also didn’t miss the cobwebs in the corner of the space and a messy pile of mail and unread newspapers scattered across the top of the console table in the entryway where she stood.
Nor did she miss the wide, muscled shoulders of the man, or the way they tapered to slim hips.
“Is there anywhere else close by I could stay?” she asked, more than a little aghast at her inconvenient and unexpected reaction to him.
He turned with a frown and she sincerely hoped he couldn’t see that little niggle of attraction.
“Not really, I’m sorry to say,” he answered. “There are a couple other guest ranches in the area, but everybody else closes down for the winter. There’s a motel in town, but I couldn’t recommend it.”
“Why do you stay open when everybody else shuts down?”
He made a face as if the very question had occurred to him more than once. “We have some hardcore snowmobilers who’ve been staying since the ranch opened to guests five years ago. Their bookings are being honored, though we haven’t taken new ones since…well, probably since you made your reservations.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Look, do you mind waiting here while I check the computer?”
“I have a copy of my reservation in the rental. I can get it for you.”
“I believe you. I just want to figure out what Joanie has done. For all I know, we’re hosting a damn convention she forgot to mention to me before she ran off. Just give me five minutes.”
He walked away, leaving her standing in the entryway with the little girl—who was suddenly joined by another girl who looked perhaps a few years older. Her hair wasn’t quite as long and her features were thinner. But just like her sister—they looked so much alike, they could be nothing else—she said nothing, just regarded Emery with solemn, dark eyes.
Something strange was going on at the Hope Springs Ranch. She couldn’t help noticing a large artificial Christmas tree in the great room, but it was bare of lights or ornaments, and as far as she could tell, that was the only concession to the holidays within her view.
“I really like your hat,” the younger girl who had answered the door finally said to break the silence.
She smiled at her, despite her exhaustion. “Thank you. I made it.”
“You made it?” The older girl’s eyes widened. “Like you sewed it and stuff?”
“Yes. And I designed the material.”
The girl frowned, clearly skeptical. “Nobody designs material. You just buy it at the sewing store. That’s what our mom used to do anyway.”
“Before she died,” the younger one added.
“Be quiet, Tallie,” her sister snapped. “She doesn’t need to know everything.”
Emery wanted to tell them she might not know everything, but she did know about losing a mother. Her own had only been gone a few months. But she supposed the experience of a twenty-seven-year-old woman losing her mother was quite different than that of two young girls.
“You do pick out material in a fabric store,” she answered. “But someone has to design the material in the first place and decide what color dyes and what sort of fibers to use. That’s what I do.”
She didn’t add that her fledgling textile line had recently been called “innovative, exciting and warmly elegant” by the leading trade magazine.
“Can you show me how to make a hat like that?”
“Me, too!” The younger girl exclaimed. “If Claire gets to make one, I want to. I can give it to my friend Frances for Christmas.”
“Ooh, maybe I could make two,” her sister said. “One for Natalie and one for Morgan. They’re my very best friends.”
“Can I make a pink one?” Tallie asked. “I love pink, and so does Frances.”
“Ooh, I would like purple,” her sister said. “Or maybe red.”
Emery shifted, wondering where in Hades their uncle had disappeared to and how the situation had suddenly spiraled out of her control. It must be the fatigue—or perhaps her complete lack of experience with young girls.
“I don’t even know if I’m staying here yet. Your uncle and I are still working out the details.”
The expression on both faces shifted from excitement to resignation in a blink and she wondered what in their young lives had contributed to their cynicism.
She hated sounding like such a grump, especially toward two girls who had lost their mother. “If I’m staying, we can see,” she amended.
That was apparently enough for them. For the next few moments the girls talked about colors and patterns until their uncle returned to the room.
“Your reservation wasn’t on the main calendar in the office, but I found it on a deleted copy of her files from the hard drive backup. I don’t know what happened. Everything is in such a mess.”
“Is the cabin I reserved available, then?”
He sighed. “Nobody else is staying there, so I suppose you could say it’s available. But Joanie basically ran the lodging side of things and I haven’t had time to replace her yet. I’m going to have to scramble just to find maid service. It might take me a few days, so you might want to reconsider and find a place in Jackson Hole. We’ll of course fully refund your deposit.”
“I don’t need maid service. I can take care of myself. I just need a quiet place where I can get some work done.”
He studied her for a long moment then finally shrugged. “I think you’re crazy, but what do I know? If you want to stay, I suppose it wouldn’t be fair of me to turn you away since you’ve had a reservation for several months. Let me grab my coat and I’ll take you down and open the cabin.”
“Yay! You’re staying.” Tallie beamed at her as Nate reached into a closet in the hallway and emerged with fleece-lined ranch coat. “Now you can show us how to make a hat.”
“She only said we could see,” the older girl warned her sister. “That usually means no.”
“Ms. Kendall is our guest,” their uncle said with what she was beginning to consider his characteristic frown. “You girls are not to pester her. You know the rules.”
Though Emery had been seeking a tactful way to discourage them, she had a sudden obstinate urge to do exactly the opposite.
“Give me a day or two to settle in. I brought my sewing machine and some fabric samples we could probably use.”
“Who packs a sewing machine for a holiday visit to the mountains?”
She forced a smile. “I’m not here to ski, Mr.…”
“Sorry. Cavazos. Nate Cavazos.”
“Mr. Cavazos. This is a working vacation for me. I just need peace and quiet to finish several projects awaiting my attention. The setting doesn’t really matter.”
That was an outright lie, but she decided it was none of Nate Cavavos’s business exactly why she had come to Cold Creek.

Damn tourists.
Nate grabbed the key to the biggest and best of the four small cabins his sister and her husband had built along Cold Creek.
If he had his way, he would send Miss Fancy Kendall back to Jackson Hole, just be blunt and tell her in no uncertain terms that there was no room at the inn.
What the hell did he know about running a guest ranch? He was a highly trained military specialist with a background in explosives. He knew about blowing things up and planning clandestine operations. Organized chaos was his specialty, not fluffing pillows and fetching tea for sleek city women who drove Lexus SUVs and looked as if they just stepped out of some aprés skiwear catalog.
Damn the woman and damn Joanie Reynolds for running off and leaving such a mess behind.
“If you’ll follow me, you can park your vehicle next to the cabin. I’ll unlock it for you and make sure the heat’s working, then help you with your bags.”
“That’s not necessary, really. Both of us don’t need to go out into the storm. I can take the key and let myself in if you’ll just point me in the right direction.”
He ignored her and opened the door. “Claire, keep an eye on Tallie for me, okay? I’ll be back in a minute. I’ve got my cell with me if you need me.”
“Okay.”
She was too agreeable, his oldest niece. He hadn’t seen her a great deal in her eleven years, just the occasional visit between deployments, but he remembered her as always being eager to please. In the three months since her parents died, she had become even more so, though she still tried to boss her younger sister around as if she were trying desperately to control that one little corner of a chaotic universe.
“When can we make the hats?” Tallie asked.
“What hats?”
Emery Kendall pointed to hers. “They were admiring my cloche. I told them I could perhaps help them sew one of their own.”
He didn’t know what the hell a cloche was. It sounded French and vaguely sexy, especially to a man who hadn’t been with a woman since before his last tour of duty.
“Girls, you’re not to bother our guests. You know that.”
“They weren’t bothering me,” she protested. “I told them we could see in a few days, once I settle in.”
His mouth tightened. That was the last thing he needed, for his grieving, emotionally hungry nieces to suddenly decide to latch onto this stranger who was only going to be here for a week or so.
They missed their mother and father terribly. The hell of it was, he had come to the conclusion he was far worse at parenting than he was at running a guest ranch.
“You don’t have entertain Tallie and Claire,” he said, his voice gruff. “Especially when you’ve got work of your own to do.”
She looked as if she wanted to argue, but he wasn’t at all in the mood to tangle with her anymore tonight. He wanted to get the blasted woman settled in to her cabin and come back to the house so he could figure out where the hell his life had gone so disastrously off-track in a few short months.
“You girls go on up to bed,” he said. Though it was an order, he tried not to phrase it as such. He had learned the first few weeks after Suzi and John died that eight- and eleven-year-old girls didn’t respond like trained commandos to terse commands. “I’ll check on you when I come back inside.”
Without waiting for their answer—or to see if Ms. Kendall followed him—he turned up his collar, pulled down his Stetson and headed out into the lightly blowing snow.
He was halfway down the driveway he hadn’t had time to plow yet and trudging toward the cabins a few hundred yards away from the house before he heard her vehicle start up behind him.
He had to admit, his sister and her husband had picked a good spot for guest cabins. When he was a kid, this part of the struggling ranch had held rusting old farm equipment and a ramshackle shed or two. But Suzi and John had cleared all that out and built four comfortable log cabins out of old salvaged timbers and white chinking so they looked as if they had been there forever.
In the daylight, the place had a nice view of the west slope of the Tetons and of Cold Creek Canyon. And Suzi had made the inside of each cabin warm and welcoming.
He didn’t know much about this sort of thing. As long as he had a sleeping bag and a tight-weave tent to keep out the worst of the bugs and the sandstorms, he was fine. But he imagined the guests of the ranch Suzi had renamed Hope Springs probably appreciated the handmade curtains and the lodgepole pine furnishings.
He unlocked the first cabin and immediately switched on the electric fireplace in the main room and the smaller fireplace in the bedroom. Between the two of them, they did a surprisingly effective job of keeping the place toasty in only a matter of minutes.
He walked back out onto the porch and found the blasted woman trying to wrestle a huge suitcase out of the cargo space of the SUV.
“I said I’d help you with your bags,” he muttered.
Despite the dim light from the porch and the swirl of snow, he didn’t miss the cool look she sent him out of lovely blue eyes he didn’t want to notice.
“I appreciate your…courtesy.”
He didn’t miss the slight, subtle pause before she said the last word. Though he wanted to bark and growl and tell her where to shove that delicate hint of sarcasm, he forced a tight smile.
“Here at Hope Springs, we’re nothing if not courteous,” he said in a benign sort of voice that matched her own.
He reached down and pulled the suitcase away from her then lifted another one out. The back was chock-full with five suitcases and several bags of groceries. At least Joanie must have had the foresight despite her typical ditziness to encourage their guest to shop for food before she arrived. He was grateful for that, at least. The ranch didn’t provide any meals and the nearest restaurant was six miles down the canyon in Pine Gulch, but the cabin was outfitted with a full kitchen.
Between the two of them, it only took a few trips to empty out the back of her vehicle and set everything inside the now-toasty cabin.
When he returned inside with the last load, he found her in the kitchen, putting away food from the grocery bags.
She had taken off her coat and beneath it she wore a pale blue turtleneck that showed just how nicely curved she was in all the right places.
He didn’t want to notice. “The kitchen should have everything you need in the way of pots and pans and that sort of thing. If you’re missing anything you need, you can call up to the main house.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“The reservation said you’re staying until the twenty-seventh. Is anyone else joining you?”
He wondered if he imagined the way she tilted her chin in a rather defiant sort of way. “No.”
She was staying here by herself through Christmas? He wasn’t big on celebrating the holidays himself, but he had to wonder what would make a soft, pretty woman like Emery Kendall leave everything familiar and hide out in the Idaho wilderness alone during Christmas.
None of his business, he reminded himself. He had enough on his plate without spending a minute wondering why she wanted to hole up here by herself.
“If you need anything, the number to the main house is the top button programmed on the phone,” he said.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. Thank you for your help.” She paused. “Actually, there is one thing. When I made the initial reservation, I was told I was welcome to use any of the Hope Springs horses during my stay.”
“That’s generally the policy. If you need help saddling a horse, you can usually find me or Bill Higgins, the hired man, somewhere around the place.”
“I shouldn’t need help. I’ve been around horses most of my life. But thank you.”
A woman who sewed fancy hats, wore her clothes with the kind of flair that belonged in a fashion magazine, drove a rented Lexus SUV and apparently had plenty of experience with horses. He gave a mental head shake as he said good-night and walked back into the December night.
He wasn’t sure what to think of her. Nothing, he reminded himself. He didn’t need to spend one more minute than necessary thinking about the woman. She was a guest at the ranch, that was all. One he would be thrilled to send on her way at the earliest possible opportunity.

Chapter Two
She slept better than she had in months.
It was an unexpected boon. She had never been able to sleep well in a strange bed. Coupled with the insomnia that had troubled her since before her mother died, Emery had anticipated a rough night.
Perhaps she had only been exhausted from the long day of travel and the complications of her arrival. Whatever the reason for her deep sleep, she awoke invigorated, her mind racing with ideas for the boutique hotel redesign she was working on for one of her favorite clients, Spencer Hotels.
This is exactly what she hoped might happen, that escaping from her routine in Warrenton might help her recapture some of the joy she had always found when a new project started to click in her head.
What she had taken to be a blizzard the night before left only about three or four inches of new snow on the ground. She opened the rather ordinary beige tab curtains to the alpine scene outside her windows and spent the morning with her sketchbook.
The hotel Eben Spencer had recently purchased was in Livingston, Montana, gateway to the north entrance of Yellowstone. He wanted mountain chic with an edge and custom everything—window coverings, upholstery, bed linens.
By early afternoon, she had filled her sketchbook with several possibilities she thought would work for the property. After a quick bowl of canned tomato soup and half a sandwich, the lure of the brilliant blue sky—the pure clarity of it against the dark green pine topped with snow—was too powerful for her to resist.
She bundled into silk long johns and her warmest outdoor gear and decided to check out the ranch’s equine offerings.
As she walked past red-painted outbuildings toward the large horse barn and corrals she had spied the night before on her way in, she saw no sign of her reluctant host. Her only companion was a magpie who squawked at her from atop the split-rail fence then hopped away in a flash of iridescent wings.
At the horse barn, a half dozen horses munched alfalfa that had recently been spread for them in the snow-covered pasture and it appeared as if that many again preferred the warmth of the barn.
She stood at the railing, admiring the quarter horses. She could see a couple mares were ready to foal and all of them looked well-fed and content.
After a few moments, a strong-boned dappled gray gelding wandered over to her spot and dipped his head for a little love.
“You are a pretty boy, aren’t you,” she murmured and he whinnied and tossed his head as if in complete agreement.
“That one was our mom’s horse.”
She whirled around and found the girls from the night before watching her from the corner of the pasture. Claire and Tallie, she remembered.
They wore jeans and parkas and mismatched gloves and Tallie’s hair was slipping out of her braid. Had her sister fixed it or had Nate? The idea of that dangerous-looking man trying to wrangle his niece’s hair tugged at her emotions.
“Hi,” she greeted the girls.
“That was our mom’s favorite horse,” Claire repeated.
“He’s beautiful,” Emery answered.
“His name is Cielo. It means cloud in Spanish,” the younger girl said. “You can ride him if you want.”
“Oh, I don’t…”
Tallie didn’t wait for her to answer. “Annabelle was our mom’s other favorite horse, but she’s having a baby after Christmas so you can’t ride her.”
“Which one is Annabelle?”
“The black with the white stockings,” Claire said, gesturing to a lovely mare currently drinking from the water trough.
“So do you want to ride Cielo?”
She did, suddenly, but she was wary about riding a horse that had been a favorite of their deceased mother.
“If you’re sure it’s okay.”
“Sure,” Tallie answered, then her gamine features lit up. “Hey, she could come with us! Then we could go now.”
“Where are you going?” Emery asked warily.
“Just a friend’s house,” Claire said.
“By yourselves?”
The girls exchanged glances. “We’re allowed to ride as long as we have someone with us,” Claire finally answered, an explanation Emery didn’t completely buy.
“What were you planning to do before you ran into me here?”
“Wait.” Tallie heaved a put-upon sigh. “We’ve been waiting all morning, and Uncle Nate is still busy with the man who came from Idaho Fall.”
“The lawyer,” Claire said. “He’s talking about our mom and dad’s state.”
It took Emery a moment to deduce their uncle and the attorney must be discussing their parents’ estate. Poor little things, to lose both their mother and their father.
Let that be a lesson to her. Just when she was tempted to wallow in self-pity at the strange journey her life had taken over the past few years, she was completely gob-smacked by someone whose path was even tougher.
“I’m sure they’ll be finished soon.”
“But we have an important mission,” Tallie declared. “We can’t wait much longer. We really can’t.”
Emery couldn’t help her smile. Had she been so dramatic at eight? “What could possibly be so urgent?”
“Our friend Tanner has been home sick from school for three whole days.”
Again, Emery had to swallow a smile at the gravity in the girl’s voice. “Oh my goodness. I hope it’s nothing serious.”
“He had the flu and was throwing up and everything. He said it was really gross. But his stepmom said he’s feeling tons better.”
“That’s a relief.” Emery was surprised to find herself enjoying her interaction with these cute girls.
“Yeah, only I brought home all his homework papers yesterday and I just have to get them to his house so he has time to finish them before school on Monday or he’ll be in big trouble.”
“I can see why you’re in such a hurry, then.”
“So will you come with us?” Claire asked. “We can help you saddle Cielo.”
She looked at the powerful horse and then back at the girls. She had been considering a ride. And by the looks of him, riding Cielo would indeed be like riding a cloud. What would be the harm in going along with the girls and saving Nate Cavazos a little work?
“We’d better make sure it’s all right with your uncle.”
“I’m sure he won’t mind,” Claire said. “This way he doesn’t have to find the time to take us.”
“Why don’t you ask him anyway? I would feel better if he gave his okay. Tallie and I will saddle the horses and meet you at the house in a few minutes, all right?”
Claire gave a reluctant sigh, but nodded. “Tallie, you get Junebug for me. And don’t cinch her too tight.”
“I know. I’ve only done it a million times.”
Claire returned to the barn a few moments later, just as they were saddling Tallie’s small paint pony, a pretty little mare she called Estrella.
“Did he say it was okay?”
“Yep,” Claire said, her attention turned to her own horse.
“Good,” Emery answered, surprised at how much she was anticipating a good, hard ride. “Does it take long to reach Tanner’s house?”
“It’s not far. Maybe a mile,” Tallie answered. Before Emery could ask if she needed a hand into the saddle, the girl clambered up like a little monkey and settled easily on the horse’s back.
Both girls looked completely at home in the saddle and Emery, who had been riding since she was younger than either of them, though with an English saddle, felt like a veritable greenhorn in comparison.
“Come on. Let’s go,” Tallie insisted, nudging the heels of her boots into the horse’s side.
The younger girl led the way down the snowy driveway and both of the other horses followed Estrella with alacrity, tack jingling softly and their gaits smart, as if they were thrilled to be out in the cold, invigorating air.
The mountains loomed over them, raw and jagged, their peaks a dramatic contrast of snow and pine.
At the end of the long, curving drive, they followed the canyon road along the creek for perhaps a half mile. In that time, they encountered no vehicles.
“Are we getting closer to Tanner’s house?” Emery asked after a few more moments.
“Not very far. Look, there’s the sign for it.”
She followed the direction of the girl’s outstretched hand and her heart clutched in her chest.
A huge log arch spanned the driveway, much bigger than the sign for the Hope Springs Guest Ranch had been. This one declared Cold Creek Land & Cattle Company in black iron letters.
Oh, dear heavens.
She wasn’t ready. She still hadn’t decided if she would ever be ready. She needed more time to figure out if she wanted to face any of the Daltons yet.
She wanted to whirl Cielo around and ride as fast and as hard as she could back to the relative safety of Hope Springs.
“What’s the matter, Ms. Kendall?” Tallie’s mouth puckered into a concerned frown. “You look funny.”
She didn’t feel funny. Far from it. She felt panicked and vaguely nauseous, the canned tomato soup suddenly turning to greasy sludge in her stomach.
She drew in a breath. She could do this. The Daltons knew nothing about the revelations that had completely rocked her world four months ago. As far as they knew, she was only a guest staying at a neighboring ranch.
“Nothing.” She forced a smile and eased her hands on the reins. “Nothing at all.”
Her heart pounded as they rode under the arch and headed up a long driveway that wound around a stand of lodgepole pine and bare-branched aspens.
The house was a grand, imposing log structure with a long front porch and several gables, surrounded by several outbuildings. Some distance from it, she could see a large, sprawling metal-framed building. She guessed that was the Cold Creek equine training facility she had read about on the Internet.
Her heart felt as if it would pound right out of her chest and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath in the cold air. She hadn’t had a panic attack since she graduated from college, not even during the worst of her pain and loss during the past two years, and she really didn’t want to start again.
Breathe, she ordered herself.
When they neared the house, the girls jumped down from their horses and Emery knew she couldn’t go inside.
“I’ll just wait for you out here with the horses,” she told them. “You go give your friend his homework.”
The implications of the connection began to sink through. Tanner must be one of the Dalton children. Wade’s, probably, since as far as she could determine, he was the only brother with grade-school-age kids, although Seth had older stepchildren. That made Tallie’s friend Tanner her…
She jerked her mind away. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, but we might be a few minutes. You might get cold. I told Tanner I would explain our math assignment to him and I don’t know how long it will take.”
Before she could come up with an answer, a tall, dark-haired man with a definite air of authority walked out of a nearby barn. He stopped short when he spied them, then his handsome features lit up.
“Well, hello there, Miss Tallie and Miss Claire,” he called as he approached them. “What brings you all the way up to the Cold Creek on such a wintry day?”
Emery drew in a calming breath and then another one. He looked just like the picture she had of his father. Which brother was it? Her guess was Wade. He ran the family’s cattle operations, from what she could determine, while the youngest brother, Seth, was in charge of the horse training facility. A third brother, Jake, was a family physician in Pine Gulch.
She could have hired a private investigator to find all this information, but she hadn’t needed to go that far. A few clicks on the computer and she had found all she needed to know and then some.
“I’ve got Tanner’s homework, Mr. Dalton.”
“That is sure nice of you girls to ride over for that. It will give him something to do besides snipe at his brother and sister. He’ll be real glad to see a little company. And who’s your friend?”
“Her name is Ms. Kendall and she’s from Virginia,” Claire answered.
Emery didn’t feel she had any choice but to dismount. She prayed her shaking legs would hold her up.
“I’m Emery Kendall. I’m staying at Hope Springs through the holidays.”
He wore a battered leather work glove, but he removed it and reached out his hand. She shook it then quickly dropped her fingers.
“Nice to meet you, Miz Kendall. You picked a beautiful time of year for a visit. This area of eastern Idaho is pretty year round, but there’s something special about the place during the holidays, as long as you can stand the cold.”
She had only seen the one picture, but she knew his father shared that same smile, that same thick, wavy, dark hair.
“Let’s tie your horses so you can come in out of the cold for a minute and I’ll let Tanner know you all are here,” he said. “And don’t worry, he’s not contagious anymore. Just grumpy as can be.”
The girls giggled at that and followed him back up the porch steps and into the house.
The house was huge and warm and welcoming. Here were the Christmas decorations the girls’ home lacked. A massive Christmas tree decorated with plaid ribbons and hundreds of ornaments brushed the top of the soaring vaulted ceiling and pine garlands with matching ribbons draped the river rock fireplace and hung from the log staircase.
Whoever decorated the place had used a pleasing mix of color and texture to create a sense of brightness and warmth.
She was studying a particularly lovely embroidered sampler on the wall when a woman with blond hair and fine-boned features entered the room.
“Tallie and Claire Palmer. Two of my favorite people!”
“We brought Tanner’s homework assignment. Mrs. Peterson said he can turn it in when he goes back to class.”
“He’ll be so excited to see you,” the woman said with a warm smile. “Come on back to the kitchen. I just took a tray of cookies out of the oven. You’d better come grab one before the hungry little mouths around here gobble them all up.”
“And the hungry big mouths.”
The man owning the hungry big mouth in question swooped the woman into his arms and planted it on hers and kissed her soundly, apparently unembarrassed by the presence of a stranger.
“You’ll have to fight Cody for them, I’m afraid,” she answered after he released her. “He’s already snitched three off the cookie sheet before I could even transfer them to the cooling rack. I’m sure he had to have burned his tongue, but he’ll never admit it.”
Wade Dalton chuckled, then apparently remembered his manners. “Sorry. Carrie, this is Emery Kendall. She’s staying at Hope Springs and was nice enough to ride with the girls over here to bring Tanner’s homework. Emery, this is my wife, Caroline. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go fight off my kids for the cookies. It was nice to meet you.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. Only after he left the room did her heart rate seem to settle down.
“Tanner and Nat are in the family room playing video games,” Caroline said to the girls. “I’m sure Tanner would love some company besides family for a few minutes if you’ve got time to visit.”
The girls looked to Emery as if for permission and she wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Right now she didn’t feel in charge of anything, not even her own breathing. “A few moments, I suppose. Then we’d better ride back before your uncle begins to worry.”
“I told Tanner I would explain the math assignment,” Tallie said. “We’re subtracting fractions and stuff and it’s really hard.”
“That is so kind of you to help him,” Caroline said with a warm smile. “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
Though it was only a first impression and she could be way off-base, for all she knew, Emery thought the other woman seemed completely sincere in her gratitude, the sort of person who could lift even the most defeated spirit just with her smile.
She would have been very much inclined to like her, even if she hadn’t already read and admired Caroline Montgomery Dalton’s self-help books on finding your life’s direction before she knew of the connection to the Daltons of Cold Creek Canyon.
“Emery, where did you say you were from?” Caroline asked when the girls hurried from the room.
“Virginia. Warrenton, an hour outside Washington, D.C.”
“Lovely country there. Are you in Pine Gulch visiting family?” Caroline asked.
Under the circumstances, Emery didn’t quite know how to respond to that particular question.
“I guess you could say I needed a change this Christmas. It’s been a…difficult year. My mother died of cancer in September.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss. I can only imagine how hard the holidays must be for you.”
Though she didn’t physically touch her, the concern in her voice was somehow just as comforting as an embrace.
“The grief is still very painful, especially as she was my…only family. I wasn’t quite ready to face the parties and celebrations of the holidays and was looking for a change this year. I read about Hope Springs Guest Ranch online and it seemed just the place to spend the holidays.”
“It’s a very peaceful spot,” Caroline said softly. “I’ve always thought it had healing energy. I know Suzi, the girls’ mother, felt the same.”
She didn’t expect to find healing. She only wanted to figure out how everything she thought she had known about herself could turn out to be a lie.
“I’m surprised Nate is taking new guests. I was under the impression he’s working toward closing the place, which is really a shame after all the work and heart and soul Suzi and John put into it.”
“I made my reservation back in September. There was some mix-up with it, but Mr. Cavazos agreed to honor it.”
“He has his hands full, that man.”
Before Emery could answer, a timer dinged from somewhere in the house. Caroline glanced behind her.
“My cookies are just coming out. Listen, do you mind coming back to the kitchen with me? I don’t want to leave you out here by yourself, but if I don’t take them out, they’ll burn. Of course, they’ll still get inhaled around here, no matter how crispy they are.”
“I don’t mind,” she answered. She followed Caroline down a hallway toward the origin of the delicious smells of almond and butter and sugar. The hallway was lined with photographs, old black-and-whites, framed snapshots and some that looked like professionally taken portraits. Emery’s head swiveled as she took in the barrage of images and she had to stop so she could absorb them all.
“This is…your family?”
“Yes.” She noticed the direction of Emery’s gaze, a candid shot of three men in Western-cut suits standing at what looked like a wedding. They were laughing and lighthearted, each of them extraordinarily handsome. “Those are my husband’s brothers, Jake and Seth. That was taken at Seth’s wedding. They both live nearby, which is wonderful for all of them. We’re very close with them and their wives.”
She couldn’t stand here gaping at someone else’s family, not without making Caroline Montgomery Dalton think she was crazy, so she followed her down the hallway into the kitchen, doing her best not to cast longing looks over her shoulder.
In the kitchen, she found Wade Dalton sitting at a long, scarred pine table with a blonde toddler in pink overalls on his lap and a little boy of about five or six chattering a mile a minute at his side.
“I got to help make the holes for the jam, Dad. Only even though they’re called thumbprint cookies, Mom wouldn’t let me use my thumbs to make the dents. I had to use the lid of a marker. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“Extremely,” he answered with a grin toward Emery and Caroline. “But probably a little more sanitary.”
“There’s a method to my madness,” Caroline said. “That way the jam doesn’t ooze out the sides as easily. It’s all in how much pressure you apply when you make the hole, isn’t it, bud?”
The boy nodded emphatically. “And I’m just right, aren’t I?”
“You’re perfect.”
Emery stood aside, observing their interaction while Caroline pulled the cookies from the oven in one smooth motion and replaced that tray with another filled with dough cutouts.
When she had set them on a cooling rack, she turned back to Emery. “So what do you do in Virginia, Emery?”
“I design textiles. I’ve got a shop outside D.C. that sells custom fabrics for interior designers, furniture makers, that sort of thing. We’re moving into the retail market in the fall with a new midrange consumer line.”
“How interesting,” Caroline exclaimed. “I wish I could sew, but I’m afraid it’s not one of my skills. How did you get started in that particular business? It seems rather obscure.”
Emery knew from her research that Caroline Montgomery Dalton was a life coach who probably excelled at convincing people to talk about their hopes and dreams, but she was still flattered by the woman’s interested expression. “I waffled between graphic arts and interior design in college, but realized my real love was creating at the sewing machine. After I interned with one of the bigger textile design firms, I decided to branch out in my own direction.”
“I’d love to see some of your fabrics while you’re here. Did you bring any swatches?”
She laughed. “Only about four boxes’ worth. This is sort of a working vacation for me. I’m working on a design project for a hotel in Montana that wants custom fabrics from the ground up.”
“I just had a great idea.” Caroline said suddenly. “You should come to the party we’re having next week.”
Emery blinked, astounded that the woman would invite a perfect stranger who was only in the area temporarily to socialize with them. “What kind of party?”
“A friend and I are throwing sort of a celebration for the neighbors in Cold Creek Canyon. Everyone in the canyon is invited. Even though you’re only here temporarily, that means you.”
“You and a friend are throwing it,” Wade said, a little dimple teasing at his cheek. “Except it’s at Jenna’s house and she’s doing all the cooking.”
“I’m helping!” Caroline protested. “I sent out all the invitations and I’m making cookies to take. Anyway, we capitalize on our strengths, right? Can I help it if she has a huge house with an indoor swimming pool and just happens to be a gourmet cook?”
Wade grinned and picked up one of the warm cookies. His mouth widened in appreciation as he bit into the soft treat. “You can take her down, honey. At least when it comes to your thumbprints.”
“I’ll make sure to tell her you said so, especially when you’re going to town on those magic bars she makes that you love so much.”
She turned back to Emery. “Seriously, it’s going to be a blast. All the neighbors from Cold Creek Canyon are invited. We would love to have you. I hate the idea of anyone spending the holidays alone.”
Oh, sign her up to go to a party where the only reason she had been invited was because everyone felt sorry for her. That was a big part of the reason she had opted to leave Virginia this year, so her friends wouldn’t feel obligated to invite her to their own holiday gatherings out of pity.
On the other hand, Caroline was offering her the perfect opportunity to spend a little time with the Daltons in a social situation. She hadn’t specifically said Wade’s brothers were attending, but Emery knew from her research that they both lived in the canyon, Seth in his own home here at the ranch and Jake a bit closer to town. Besides that, Caroline said the brothers were close so she would guess they would all attend the party.
“I’ll think about it,” she finally said.
“Wonderful. Nate and the girls are invited, of course, but I haven’t heard from him. Maybe you could work on persuading him.”
As if she could convince the man of anything. In the few moments she had spent with him the night before, he hadn’t made it a secret that he wasn’t exactly thrilled to have her staying at the ranch in the first place. She had a feeling he wouldn’t respond favorably if she tried to manage his social life while she was there.
She was spared from having to come up with a polite answer by the arrival of Tallie and Claire, in company with a blond boy in sweats and a Utah Jazz sweatshirt—and with a definite gleam of mischief in his eyes.
“Get the homework situation straightened out?” Wade asked them.
“I guess,” the boy muttered, his expression disgruntled. “I still say it’s not fair I have to do homework when I’m sick.”
“If you feel well enough to play video games, you can do homework,” Caroline said, her voice firm even as she held out a cookie for the boy.
The girls chatted for a few more moments with Caroline and Wade and it was obvious to Emery that they were no strangers to the kitchen. She let them visit for a while while she tried not to steal surreptitious glances at Wade. Finally, though, she was afraid her not-so-subtle interest would become too obvious. She glanced at her watch, then interjected into a break in the conversation.
“We’d better start heading back.”
“Do we have to?” Tallie moaned.
“Your uncle will be looking for us,” she answered, though in truth, she was just as reluctant to leave. She wanted to sit here awhile longer enjoying the warmth of this family and the tensile connection to old secrets.
Tallie gave a few more put-upon sighs, but Claire only looked disappointed for a moment, then she rose. “Come on, Tal. Let’s go.”
“Thanks again for bringing the homework,” Wade said to the girls, then turned to Emery. “It was nice to meet you.”
Somehow she managed to smile back over the renewed pounding of her heart. Would he say that if he knew the truth? She had to wonder. As she ushered the girls toward the door, Caroline and Tanner followed them. On the porch, she held out two lunch bags Emery hadn’t even noticed she had been carrying.
“What’s this?” Emery asked.
“Cookies, a bag for you and one for Nate and the girls. And just in case I didn’t mention it, they’re made with jam from our own raspberry canes in the garden. I don’t have very many specialties so I’m pretty proud of this one.”
Caroline hugged both Tallie and Claire goodbye, sympathy in her eyes for the two little girls. To her surprise, she hugged Emery, too.
“It was great to meet you. I really would love to see some of your fabrics.”
She didn’t know what to do with all this warmth, especially when some insane part of her wanted to sit right down on the porch and tell Caroline Dalton everything.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she answered, then she and the girls headed off the porch, mounted their horses and took off down the driveway toward Hope Springs.

Chapter Three
They were all mostly silent on the way home. Emery was lost in thought, wondering if this whole trip had been crazy. What place could she ever have in the Daltons’ lives? As much as she had instinctively liked both Wade and Caroline Dalton and despite the ties they didn’t even know about, she was a stranger to them. What right did she have to burst into their lives, dredging up the past?
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn’t pay much attention to anything until they turned onto the Hope Springs access road. As Cielo moved alongside Claire’s horse, she had the first clear view of the girl in several moments and she was stunned to see silent tears trickling down cheeks reddened by the cold.
The sight jerked her from her own self-absorption and she nudged the horse closer so she could reach out to touch the girl’s shoulder. “Oh, honey, what is it?”
“Nothing,” Claire sniffled.
“It’s the cookies Tanner’s mom made,” Tallie said. She looked close to tears, as well, though she seemed to be holding them back.
“What’s wrong with the cookies?”
“Nothing,” Claire said. “It’s just…we haven’t made any this year. Not real ones, anyway.”
“Our mom always made Christmas cookies with us. Every year. It was so fun,” Tallie said sadly.
“We made sugar cookies and wedding balls and almond ones dipped in chocolate,” Claire said, her voice breaking on the words. “I miss them so much.”
She let out a sob and Emery stopped her horse and pulled the girl into as much of a hug as she could manage when they were both on horseback.
“We made cookies with Uncle Nate,” Tallie reminded her sister. “They were okay.”
“They were from store-bought dough. That’s all Uncle Nate said he could make. And we still burned them.”
Emery did her best to ignore the fluttering in her stomach at the image of the tough, virile man who could lift her heavy suitcase without a blink standing in the kitchen in an apron making cookies with his nieces.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” she murmured. She wasn’t the only one missing her mother or the life she used to have this Christmas, though what these two little girls were suffering seemed so much harder.
“Listen, I’m not the greatest baker, but I do have a few good cookie recipes. Maybe we could find a day before Christmas and the three of us could whip something up.”
Tallie, on her sister’s other side, looked ecstatic at the offer. “Really? You mean that?”
“As long as your uncle doesn’t mind.”
“He won’t mind,” Claire assured her as she wiped at her eyes. “He loves cookies. He just doesn’t know how to make them.”
“Can we still make a hat like yours if we’re making cookies?” Tallie asked.
“I’m sure we can figure out a way to do both,” she answered, and was greeted with delighted smiles.
So much for her claim that she wanted to avoid Christmas this year, she thought as they spurred their horses toward the house. Now she was committed to helping the girls make cookies and sew a few presents. The biggest surprise of all was that she actually looked forward to it.
Claire’s tears dried by the time they reached the barn. As they dismounted and began removing the saddles from the horses, she and Tallie chattered about Christmas and the things they had asked for that year. Emery was carrying the saddle to the tackroom when she heard the outside door open.
“Where have you two been?”
She frowned at the anger in Nate’s voice and quickly set the saddle on its form and returned to the stalls.
“We went for a ride,” Claire answered.
“You went to the Daltons, didn’t you?”
“I had to give Tanner his homework,” Tallie said. “I told you.”
“And I said we would drive over as soon as I finished with the attorney. You know the new rules. You know you’re not supposed to take the horses on your own, no matter what your parents might have allowed. I have to know where you are.”
“We weren’t on our own,” Tallie protested. “You said we couldn’t go unless we were with an adult. We had Ms. Kendall with us.”
He turned on her, his features thunderous.
“You had no right to just ride off with them. Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? I was just about ready to start a search party.”
“I left you a note,” Claire said. “You were busy with the man and I didn’t want to bother you.”
“I didn’t see any note.”
“I put it on the hall table. That’s where we always put stuff for Mom and Dad to see.”
He raked a hand through his hair, his features still taut and angry, though Emery saw the echo of worry in his eyes. “I must have missed it.”
“We gave all the homework to Tanner and now you don’t even have to take us, since you don’t like going to the Cold Creek,” Tallie said, her voice cheerful.
“Tanner’s stepmom was making cookies,” Claire added, holding out the bag to him. “She sent a bunch for us.”
“Did she?”
“Yep,” Tallie said. “And then Claire was sad about the cookies since we didn’t make the ones we usually do and Emery said she’ll help us make Christmas cookies this year. Wasn’t that nice?”
Nate shifted his dark-eyed gaze in her direction and he didn’t look at all pleased by what she thought had been a rather kind offer.
“I’m sure it was.” He put enough doubt in his voice that it sounded as if he believed exactly the opposite. “Listen, why don’t you girls head up to the house where you can get warm and set the table for dinner? I’ll finish up with your horses and be up in a minute.”
They agreed readily enough and a moment later, she was alone with him in the barn.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Emery said. “It won’t happen again.”
“I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. I was just worried. A storm’s coming and I was afraid they would be caught up in it.” He paused, giving her a careful look. “They told you they could go, didn’t they?”
She remembered Claire’s claims that she had told her uncle they were going. “I might have been given that impression,” she admitted slowly. “But I should have made sure.”
He led Cielo into a stall and began brushing the horse with practiced motions that told her even if he hadn’t lived here in some time, he was no stranger to horses or ranching.
“Their parents gave them a little more freedom to come and go as they please. They’re used to riding all over the ranch and even to the neighboring ranches, something I’m not completely comfortable with. It’s been one of many small adjustments over the past few months.”
“How long have their parents been gone?”
“Since September.”
She wanted to ask him what had happened to them, but he spoke before she could come up with a tactful way to broach the subject.
“Look, you’re only here for a few days.” His words were clipped, abrupt. “I would appreciate it if you would stay away from the girls.”
She stared, the words of sympathy she had been gathering crumbling to ash in her mouth. “Excuse me?”
He shrugged. “Nothing personal. I’m sure you’re a nice lady and all. But Tallie and Claire have suffered enough loss the past few months. We’re all struggling to find our way here together. It’s hard enough for them to have strangers coming and going in their lives. That’s one reason I’m thinking about scaling down the guest ranch part of the operation here. I’m doing my best to keep them separate from the few guests we still have. Going for horseback rides with you, making cookies, sewing hats. It’s all too much. They’re going to think they have some kind of relationship with you. When you head back east to your life, the girls are going to feel abandoned by one more person in their lives.”
“A rancher and an armchair psychiatrist. An interesting combination.” She tried and failed to keep the bite from her voice.
She was beyond annoyed, suddenly. Had she ever asked for the girls’ company? No. Her whole intent in coming to Hope Springs had been to spend the holidays alone, not to suddenly find herself responsible for the emotional well-being of two orphaned little girls. She was only trying to be kind to them, not trying to insinuate herself into their lives.
“I’m no psychiatrist, armchair or otherwise,” he answered. “Or a rancher, for that matter. I’m only an army Ranger who’s far more at home with my M4 carbine in my hands than a curry comb these days. I don’t know a damn thing about raising two little girls. I’m going completely on instinct here—that’s all I can do, really—and my gut is telling me it’s not good for them to become too close to you.”
Emery fought the urge to pick up the hayfork leaning against the stable wall and bash him over the head with it. Of course, if he was a highly trained soldier, he would probably have it out of her hands before she could even think about using it.
He was the girls’ guardian, she reminded herself. It was his right—and obligation—to act in whatever way he thought was in their best interest.
“I will certainly do my best to stay out of their way,” she finally answered. “But I refuse to be cold or rude to them when our paths cross, just to pander to your paranoia. It’s not in my nature.”
“I can see that. I wouldn’t want you to be rude,” he answered and she could almost see his tongue dip into his cheek at the words.
She scowled. “The girls asked me to go riding and to help them sew hats for their friends. I did offer to help them make cookies, but only because Claire was distraught over missing that particular holiday tradition, not because I was trying to worm my way into their lives. I have work enough of my own to do. I thought I was coming to Idaho for seclusion and peace, not to entertain two lost, lonely little girls. Maybe before you start warning your guests to stay away from Claire and Tallie, you ought to ask yourself what they’re missing from you that prompts them to latch onto the first kind stranger who comes along.”
He drew in a breath, but she didn’t give him an opportunity to respond to her counterattack; she just turned on her heels, thrust open the barn door and marched out into the fading December afternoon.

He deserved that, he supposed.
Nate watched his guest flounce out of the barn and winced as he remembered his accusatory tone. He had certainly botched yet another of his interactions with her. What was it about the woman that brought out the worst in him? He considered himself a pretty decent guy, for the most part. He usually tried to treat women with respect and appreciation. But without even trying, Emery Kendall seemed to hit all his hot buttons. She was sleek and cultured and sophisticated.
In comparison to all that blond perfection, he felt stupid and rough-edged. Just the poor dumb Mexican kid of the town whore.
He checked the horses one last time then left the barn. He really sucked at this whole hospitality thing. He wanted to shut the gates of Hope Springs and keep everybody out, guests and interfering neighbors alike.
He supposed that made him sound like some kind of hermit. He wasn’t. He liked people, for the most part, and considered the others in his unit a genuine brotherhood.
But coming home to Pine Gulch seemed to bring out the worst in him. All the childhood pain and shame and confusion, those demons he had worked so hard to exorcise after he left came bubbling back up from somewhere deep inside, like one of those sulfur hot pots not far away in Yellowstone, oozing and ugly and acrid.
He looked over at Emery’s cabin, where the lights glowed merrily against the gathering twilight.
She was only looking for a quiet place to spend the holidays, she had said. She was paying for a quiet escape. Whether he wanted to be running a guest ranch or not, he had opened the gates and allowed her in, so he was stuck—at least until he figured out what to do with Hope Springs and with the girls who had been left in his care.
Whatever she might be running from, whatever the cause of those secrets he could see in the deep blue of her eyes, he owed it to her not to let the hot mess of his life, both past and present, spill over and burn her.

Emery woke up to pitch darkness, bitter cold, and the vicious howling of wind beneath the eaves.
For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she registered the thick weight of the down comforter, the sturdy hollows and curves of the log ceiling above her, the flannel sheets that were worlds different from the 600-threadcount Egyptian cotton she used at home, but somehow comforting nonetheless.
Idaho. She was staying at a cabin in Cold Creek Canyon, just a short distance from the Daltons.
That deduction left her with two further mysteries for her sleep-numbed mind to work through. Why was she so blasted cold? And what had awakened her from fragmented dreams of her empty arms and her empty heart?
A loud banging rang out through the cabin from the other room, far too sharp and urgent to be something random from the wind she could hear howling under the eaves.
She really didn’t want to leave protection of the blankets in order to check it out. If she was this cold with the covers tucked to her chin, how much worse would it be when she pushed them away?
“Ms. Kendall? Emery?” a man’s low voice pushed through the howling wind and the stubborn cobwebs of sleep. Nate Cavazos, she realized.
“Coming,” she called out, trying to gather her scrambled thoughts together. She reached for the bedside lamp, still not completely familiar with the cabin’s layout to make her way in pitch darkness.
The light didn’t switch on and she frowned. That must be why it was so dark and so cold in here. That storm howling out there must have cut the power, which meant the electric fireplace wasn’t working, either.
Though everything inside her protested the invasion of even more cold, she managed to push away the covers and scramble in the blackness for the slippers she had left by the side of the bed. She might have to climb out of what little warmth she had left, but she wasn’t about to touch her bare feet to the icy wood floor.
“Ms. Kendall?” Nate called again, raising his voice louder to be heard over the roar of the wind.
“I’m coming. Just a moment.”
Groping her way in the dark, she made her way through the doorway of the bedroom then cursed when she cracked her knee on the mission rocking chair her outstretched hands must have missed.
She finally found the door, more by instinct than sight, and fumbled with the locks. She yanked it open then caught her breath as wind and snow swept inside in a mad icy rush.
Through the swirling snow, she could barely see Nate in the glow of the small lantern he held. He looked big and dark and dangerous. She remembered their tense discussion earlier in the barn and every instinct cried out for her to shove the door against him.
She ignored them all and opened the door farther. “It must be brutal out there. Come inside out of the wind.” Her voice still sounded raspy and she tried to clear the sleep out of it as he pushed past her into the small cabin.
She was instantly aware of the heat emanating from him despite his snow-covered winter coat.
“Power’s out. Guess you figured that out by now. I tried to start the generator for you behind the cabin, but the damn thing’s being stubborn.”
Ah. No wonder she was quickly turning to a solid block of ice.
“Does this happen often?” she asked, grateful she could see enough from his lantern light to grab the nubby throw off the back of the couch and wrap it around her.
He shrugged. “Sometimes. When I was a kid, I remember the power would go out just about every time we had a bad snowstorm. I think it’s a combination of the wind and the heavy snowfall dragging down the power lines that run up the canyon. I don’t expect it will be out for long. Maybe a few hours. Meantime, I’m afraid you’ll have to come up to the house while we wait for the power crews to fix it.”
She wrapped the throw more tightly around her. “Why? Don’t you think I should be warm enough if I huddle under the blankets and put my coat on?”
“You have no idea how the windchill can work its way even through the best chinking in these log structures. I don’t feel right about leaving you down here in the cold. We’ve got another generator at the house, plus a couple of wood fireplaces that can keep things plenty toasty. The girls are already camped out in the great room with their sleeping bags. We can find space for one more.”
Near the girls he had warned her in no uncertain terms to stay away from? She might have a difficult time doing that when they were sharing the warmth of a fireplace. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll suck them further into my dastardly plan to break their little hearts when I leave Pine Gulch?”
He frowned and she felt bad for her sarcasm when she saw his mouth tighten with discomfort.
“This is an emergency and can’t be helped,” he answered. “These walls don’t have much insulation. I can’t leave you down here with no heat source. Even an hour in this cold could be deadly.”
The gravity in his voice disconcerted her. She swallowed. As much as she wanted to lash back after his blistering words this afternoon, perhaps this wasn’t the time. He had come down in the howling storm to make sure she was warm and safe. She ought to be grateful he didn’t let her freeze to death.
“Can you give me a moment to change my clothes and put a coat on?”
“As long as it’s only a moment. I don’t like leaving the girls alone up at the house in this kind of weather. Here. Use the lantern. I’ve got a flashlight.”
She nodded and reached outside the throw to take it from him. As she did, something hot flashed in his dark eyes for just an instant then was gone, and she realized that while her silk long underwear wasn’t what anyone could call sexy, it still clung to every curve.
Her heart pounded at what she considered completely unreasonable speed. She snatched the lantern from him and hurried to the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her. Inside, she quickly slipped a soft mint-green velour workout suit over her long underwear, then ran a brush through her sleep-tangled hair and pulled it back into a ponytail.
If she had any sense, she would pack up her rented SUV right this moment, head back to the airport and catch the first flight back to Virginia.
Whatever happened to her peaceful escape? She never expected Mother Nature to thrust her into this awkward situation, forced to spend even more time with a man who obviously wanted her out of his life.
Her sigh puffed out a little breath of condensation. She could handle this. With luck it would only be for an hour or two, then the power would be back on and she could hole up back here at the cabin until she finished the Spencer Hotels project, not venturing out until the holidays were over.
When she returned to the living room, she found Nate waiting for her just inside the door. Unfortunately, her boots were on the mat right beside where he was standing and there was no room around the furniture in the small space for her to grab them without being practically on top of him, an image she absolutely did not need racing through her head right now.
“I, um, need my boots,” she said, gesturing to them.
“Oh. Right.” He moved as far as he could in the other direction, but she still barely had space to squeeze past the table and grab them.
She was aware of the heat emanating from him. If there were more light in the small space, she wouldn’t be surprised to see steam puffing off his coat. Was he always this warm or was it only the contrast between his body heat and the icy air inside her cabin?
She pushed away the question as completely irrelevant and focused on shoving her feet into her boots and throwing on her coat.
“Ready?” he asked, barely veiled impatience in his voice.
“As I’ll ever be,” she muttered.
He opened the door and the breath was snatched from her lungs by the cold and stinging snow.
“I’ll take point on the way back to the house,” he said, and she remembered him referring to himself as an army Ranger. She could easily see him parachuting out of an airplane over hostile territory or leading a team into a hostage situation somewhere.
“Just hold on to my coat and follow my tracks in the snow and you should be okay,” he growled over the wind.
She might have thought the warning was overdramatic, maybe even intended to scare her, but the moment they stepped off the porch, the wind and snow raged even harder. She could see nothing but black with frenzied swirls of snow beyond the pale light from the lantern and the more focused beam of his flashlight.
As they began their painstaking trudge through the snow, she almost laughed when she remembered how she had thought the snow the night before was a blizzard. Compared to this, that was just a mild flurry. She could barely make out any kind of landmark in the darkness without any ambient glow from a porch light or a vapor light and what she could see was buried in snow.
She remembered reading in school once about how early pioneers were sometimes forced to run a rope between their house and barn during blizzards so they could hang on to it to safely while they made their way back and forth to take care of their livestock. Without that anchor, they could become hopelessly lost in moments and freeze to death before they found their way back home, not ever knowing they might be a few feet from their door.
She clutched the hem of Nate Cavazos’s coat like it was her only lifeline, the only safe thing she had to hold on to in this surreal landscape.
At last, when her lungs were heaving from the cold and from the rapid pace the man set for them through knee-high snow, they reached the porch. He gripped her elbow to help her up the steps that hadn’t yet seen a shovel and then he opened the door to the main ranch house.
Though she could still see the condensation of her breath here, blessed warmth from the fire crackling in the great room eased its steady way through the house and into her aching muscles.
Compared to the fury that lurked outside the door, it felt like the tropics in here.

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