Читать книгу Christmas In Mustang Creek - Maisey Yates - Страница 12

CHAPTER THREE

THE OLD HOUSE was covered in snow, but it looked warm and inviting. A decorated Christmas tree stood framed in the big front window, and Charlotte could have described every single one of those beloved ornaments in detail.

She smiled at the blue one with the image of a small town that had “Silent Night” printed on it in lacy white letters. The twisty ones with frosted glass in various colors. The sparkly red reindeer she’d bought with babysitting money and hung on the tree when she was twelve, so delighted to contribute. It really didn’t match the antique decorations, but Aunt Geneva had loved it, hugged her tightly, and the memory of her warm acceptance left Charlotte sitting in the car for a few minutes, teary eyed. This was hard.

Very hard.

Geneva should be coming out on the porch right now, wearing an apron like she always did and waving hello, her eyes alight.

Okay, put that aside. Life changed, Charlotte knew it did. Her aunt was in her eighties, and she’d seen a lot of Christmases over the years. The two of them had shared so many good memories; Charlotte refused to spoil them with regrets. She got out and shut the car door, noting that someone, no doubt Mr. Simpson next door, had plowed the driveway.

She didn’t need a key after all.

The faceted glass front door opened easily. The smell of cinnamon and allspice immediately hit her, and Charlotte realized someone was inside, baking cookies.

It was very much like coming home—even without Aunt Geneva.

“Hello,” she called out cautiously, not wanting to startle anyone.

Mutley came running, leaping all over her, barking with excitement. His breed certainly wasn’t a known pedigree—more like a combination of half a dozen or so—hence his name. She appreciated being greeted with all that unbridled enthusiasm. Can-Can was curled up on the sofa on her special blanket, and she raised her head and gave a feline yawn, followed by her version of a smile before she settled back into her nap.

Both animals were fine. That was a relief anyway. Charlotte assured Mutley she loved him, too, fended off a few more dog kisses, then set down her suitcase and tried again. “Um, hello?”

“Hello, dear.” The woman who bustled out of the kitchen was short and a little stout, white-haired, her eyes bright and her smile infectious. “I’ve been expecting you. That was quite a storm, wasn’t it? I made coffee and there’s a warm crumb cake, sweet rolls, too. It’s a new recipe, and I need an opinion.”

She tried for a semiformal introduction. “I’m Charlotte.”

“Of course you are, child.”

“Did Aunt Geneva tell you I was coming?” She hadn’t even told her aunt she was on her way, in case any of her flights were delayed or canceled. At least, she hadn’t mentioned a specific day; it was a given that she’d be in Mustang Creek for Christmas.

“No, dear, she didn’t. But there are pictures of you everywhere, so it was no trick to recognize you. You’re just as pretty in person.” The older woman smiled. “The cake is still warm. Are you hungry?”

Slightly bemused, Charlotte trailed her into the familiar kitchen. She was hungry, actually. She’d eaten her last meal, a prepackaged sandwich at the airport, yesterday afternoon. And the spice-scented air promised something special enough to make her salivate. “Yes, I am. It smells great in here.”

The outdated kitchen was as immaculate as ever, with the same ruffled curtains at the window, the familiar wooden table and the ancient refrigerator humming away.

“I’m fairly sure the cake is fine, but I’m trying to perfect my cinnamon rolls.” Millicent Klozz breezed over to the old oven, and the door creaked in its usual way as she opened it and took out a pan. “You’d think at my age I’d have the process down cold, but I believe life requires us to continually ask more of ourselves, wouldn’t you agree?” She moved energetically between the oven and the table, setting out two plates. “I want an honest opinion. Too much vanilla in the icing? That’s my biggest fear.” She sat down. “Now, what’s your young man doing today?”

Her what?

“I’m sorry?”

Mrs. Klozz handed her a plate with a roll and a fork as she tilted her head. “You know, the young man. The tall one. Good-looking.”

Charlotte nearly choked on a bite of her pastry. Once she recovered, she managed to say, “I don’t really have a young man.”

“Oh, yes, you do. The one with the blue eyes.” Millicent Klozz waved a hand. “He’s a veterinarian, isn’t he? Yes. That’s right, I remember now. I don’t want to seem old-fashioned, but you stayed with him last night, young lady. This is Mustang Creek.”

There was the perfect amount of vanilla in the icing, Charlotte thought, although that was beside the point.

Yes, this was a very small town, but still... How many people had been out spreading gossip in a storm like that?

She shook off a twinge of—what?

“I shared a room with Jax because there wasn’t any alternative. It was so late, I knew you’d be sleeping, and the weather was terrible. In any case, he isn’t my young man.” Wait, did she sound snarky? Defensive? She hoped not. “The roll is delicious, by the way. You definitely got the vanilla right. Thank you.”

Mrs. Klozz’s eyes fairly twinkled, and she waved off Charlotte’s thanks with a good-natured smile and a motion of one hand. Then she rushed on, caught up in the story she was spinning. “He followed you here. It’s quite romantic. What are you going to do now?”

Wow. The grapevine was in fine form, evidently.

Had Jax followed her to Mustang Creek? Charlotte had her suspicions, but he hadn’t come right out and said so—had he? He’d come to town expressly to join his friend’s veterinary practice; that was her understanding anyway.

Beside her, Mutley gave a very small begging whine. She ignored it. Aunt Geneva didn’t approve of animals hovering during dinner, although Charlotte had been guilty of sneaking him a morsel or two if she was through eating, so his bad habits could be her fault.

Charlotte realized she’d been asked a question and offered a belated response. “I’m not going to do anything,” she said. “Jax has his life, and I have mine. Mustang Creek might be small, but that doesn’t mean we have to be in each other’s pockets.”

Brave words.

Mrs. Klozz didn’t seem to be listening. She picked up a cinnamon roll, took a tiny bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Maybe some more brown sugar in the filling? Raisins? I always hesitate there. Not everyone loves raisins. An acquired taste.” A pause. “What do you think?”

Charlotte wanted to laugh. She liked this woman already. “About brown sugar or raisins? It’s delicious as it is.”

“No, no, dearie, about Jaxon Locke. Keep up with the conversation.” A second pause. “So...what do you have to say about that young man?”

Mrs. Klozz was pleasant, and quite eccentric, as well. Where had Aunt Geneva found her?

By then, Mrs. Klozz was beaming, offering up another cinnamon roll.

Charlotte helped herself. She was getting full, but the pastries were among the best things she’d ever tasted. “I...um, don’t have a lot to say where Jax is concerned,” she replied, picking up the thread of the discussion.

Millicent pointed a fork in her direction. “He’s going to join that practice and take over the small-animal part of the business for now. Which reminds me, we need to take Mutley and Can-Can in to have their nails trimmed. I’m sorry to push the job of getting them there on you, but I hate the expressions on their furry faces when they realize where they’re headed. Animals are so sensitive. Would you mind, dear?”

Mutley, sensitive guy that he was, scratched himself then, sort of ruining the moment. Mrs. Klozz ignored his less-than-charming behavior.

“I was unaware of his exact plans,” Charlotte said, shoving about half a roll into her mouth. “Jax’s, I mean,” she mumbled.

They were talking about Jax now, right? With Millicent Klozz making one verbal hairpin turn after another, it was hard to know.

Apparently regarding the trip to the vet’s office as a done deal, Millicent swung the conversation into yet another curve. “Geneva will be able to come home for Christmas, according to her doctor,” she announced. “Oh, dear, I need to get more baking done. Then I can take cookies to the other patients. Just because dear G gets to come home doesn’t mean everyone’s that lucky. You’re sure about the icing?”

She looked anxious, and Charlotte’s mouth was still full, so she merely nodded.

“Well, good.” Millicent settled back and sighed. “I love this old house. It’s so comfortable, isn’t it? That’s the word for it. Comfortable. I’m very glad you’re home, Charlotte. I was rattling around here all by myself except for Mut and Can, and I needed some company.”

* * *

JAX SCRAPED THE snow off his windshield and tried to cheer himself up. Sure, Charlie had hightailed it out of there at warp speed this morning, declining to stick around for breakfast, but there was no point in reading something into it that wasn’t there.

Maybe she hadn’t wanted to sit through his meeting with Nate, and who could blame her?

They’d be seeing each other again soon. He was convinced of it.

He’d come to Mustang Creek to find Charlotte again. He’d succeeded. The job was a bonus, since it provided him with a legitimate reason to show up here, but he couldn’t deny that she’d been his real reason.

Okay, last night hadn’t been the evening of his dreams, although it came closer than any other evening of the past year.

So what if he hadn’t gotten to hold her in his arms, let alone kiss her, let alone—

There was a downside to everything, he supposed.

At least he’d been with Charlotte. Just the two of them...

Anyway, the last thing he wanted to do was crowd her.

For now, he was content to be in the same part of the country. At one point during the night, he’d rolled over and lay there, listening to her soft breathing in the dark, and that had been enough. He wouldn’t mind being a little closer the next time, but that was a start.

The meeting with Nate had gone well, too. His flourishing practice needed another pair of caring hands, Jax was experienced with both large animals like ranch stock and small ones, typically beloved pets, and the new arrangement seemed to be a good fit. If not for Charlotte, would he have stayed in Idaho and eventually taken over his father’s practice? Probably. But it had been his father who’d encouraged him to pursue her, with that signature genial smile of his. Son, seems to me you can’t forget Charlotte, and I know you’ve tried, he’d said. I think maybe you need to take a trip to Wyoming.

Well, he was in Mustang Creek, he had a job and now he needed to win the girl.

Mission not quite accomplished, but he was two-thirds of the way there.

The clinic was a low sprawling facility that had a simple sign and a parking lot big enough for trailers; inside, it was surprisingly modern, with computers at the reception desk and a full surgery suite. Nate was young and vibrant, just as Jax remembered him from vet school.

Nate showed him around enthusiastically. “Kennels here.” He pointed. “And we have an excellent care staff. They love all the animals and make sure they feel as comfortable as possible in an unfamiliar environment. I have to warn you, we do an animal-rescue adoption on Christmas Eve, which is right around the corner. Free puppies and kittens, all shots included. That’s one busy night. Hope you don’t mind. Volunteer basis. If you have other plans, I understand.”

He didn’t have plans. Wouldn’t be heading back to Idaho for the festivities. His dad would be all right; he was spending the holiday with his older brother, Jax’s uncle Seth, which he did every year, so he wouldn’t be alone. The two men usually celebrated Christmas Eve by swapping stories and reminiscing over spiked eggnog. Jax always enjoyed the informal get-together because they enjoyed it so much, but this year, he’d skip it. He had a new job, after all, and besides, he’d heard those same yarns time and time again.

All the same, he felt a little nostalgic, thinking about his family. Christmas Day, the whole crew gathered at his aunt’s house and utter mayhem ensued with excited grandchildren running amok, too many women in the kitchen, stray scraps of wrapping paper on the floor here and there...

He would miss that, but out of all the cousins, he was the only one still unmarried. No one tried to make him feel left out, but he couldn’t help it, especially when everyone settled down to dinner next to his or her spouse, chatting comfortably. There was always the inevitable question—So, Jax, you seeing anyone special?

“The Christmas Eve pet-rescue deal is a great idea,” Jax said, meaning it. Normally, he didn’t encourage people to introduce pets to their households during the upheaval of a holiday, but he knew Nate would have some kind of screening process in place, and the need to find good homes for otherwise unwanted animals was year-round. “Count me in.”

“Thanks.” Nate glanced at his phone. “I’ll see you at my place around four o’clock. I’ve got to go check on a husky that had surgery on his leg this morning and then run out to the Calder ranch because we have a mare who’s about to drop. It’s like an early Christmas present.”

Jax walked back out to his truck.

Maybe Charlotte needed a kitten. Or a puppy. He had no idea what else to get her for Christmas. Someone had beaten him to candy-cane socks, and the pink kitten pajamas had already been done, too. He felt himself grin over that one.

A pet might not be a bad gift, but it was unfair to give an animal to someone who might not be ready to make that kind of commitment. Although he could take it if she decided to move back to New York...

He hoped she’d choose to stay.

Charlie was such a mix of country girl and city woman. He’d fallen for the city woman, and now he wanted to know the country girl. She’d looked right at home in the jeans and casual sweater that morning. It would’ve been even better if he could have taken them off and made love to her. He hoped that scenario was in his future.

Speaking of his future... He had a job, but he still needed a place to live. Sacking out on Cameron’s couch, which he’d been invited to do tonight, was fine for the short term. It would get old fast, for both of them. The hotel was adequate, if impersonal, and he wasn’t going to live there.

Time to look for a house or apartment.

So he got into his truck, started the engine and called Charlie. That took some fortitude. She didn’t answer so he left a message. “This is Jax. I need a place and wondered if you could recommend somewhere.”

Two minutes later, she called back. At least, that was her number on his call display.

Only it wasn’t Charlotte’s voice he heard on the other line. “Jaxon Locke?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Oh, good. Charlotte accidentally left her phone behind. I think she was in a hurry. I can use these gadgets, but they aren’t all the same, you know, so it’s an iffy proposition. I guess I pressed the right button, though.” A brief pause. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Jax actually removed the phone from his ear, stared at it, then went back to the conversation. “I am, too. I’m not sure who I’m speaking to, but Charlie mentioned... Are you Mrs. Klozz, by any chance?”

“Call me Millicent, dear.”

Call her Millicent. “So, Charlie—Charlotte—isn’t home at the moment?”

“She’s out” came the reply. “I’ll tell her you called.”

All well and good, but Jax still didn’t understand why Mrs. Klozz—Millicent—had troubled herself to return someone else’s phone call.

“O-kay,” Jax said, drawing out the word. “Sorry to bother you.”

“Now, don’t you worry.” Millicent went on with the disjoined conversation. “You aren’t bothering me at all. Not one bit.” She drew in an audible breath. “I did want to answer your question, though. You should just stay here. We have plenty of room.”

Jax’s mind went blank. “What?”

Millicent sounded sympathetic. “This is a big house, and we could use a man around here. I can’t fix that stupid door on the upstairs bathroom—the one that won’t close properly—although I swear I’ve tried. There are other small problems you could probably take care of much better than I can, so why don’t you come and stay here with us? How ridiculous for you to pay rent somewhere.”

He finally understood. And he could imagine how Charlotte would react to that idea. “Ma’am, that’s very kind of you, but—”

“Call me Millicent,” she reminded him. “I realize this might be construed as bribery, but I make some mean Christmas cookies.”

He didn’t doubt that, but...

“Here’s the address. Even with Charlotte and me, there are four empty bedrooms. Think about it that way, Jaxon. Two helpless women who could use a little protection and someone to fix the bathroom door would appreciate having you here. You need a roof over your head, and you and Charlotte already know each other. Perfect.”

They needed protection? In Mustang Creek, Wyoming?

First of all, Charlotte Morgan could hardly be described as helpless. Plus, Jax might be new in town, but he was fairly sure that if he so much as dropped a quarter in the snow, some upstanding citizen would hunt him down and return it.

And how did Millicent know his name anyway?

Caller ID, maybe. But that didn’t explain how she’d found out he was in the market for a place to live. Surely she hadn’t gone so far as to listen to Charlotte’s voice mail. And even if she’d been so inclined, how would she have gotten the password?

“See you soon,” Millicent said breezily, ending the call.

Nate had emerged from the building at that moment and stopped by the truck, looking at him with amusement.

Jax rolled down the window. “The husky okay?”

“Husky is fine. Everything okay with you?”

“Not sure,” Jax said, scratching his jaw. “I think a little old lady just railroaded me. I might not need your couch, but don’t lend it to anyone else yet. Not all the parties involved have weighed in.”

“Okay. If it doesn’t work out, just walk in, shove off the dog if you can manage it because he weighs about a hundred and fifty and settle down with a pillow.”

Jax had to laugh. “Rufus sounds like quite the watchdog.”

“He’s conscientious in his own way. He barks if he can see the bottom of his food bowl. You could steal my car and he’d sleep through it, but try to take his bowl. And if you end up with no place to stay, remember that Rufus can sleep on the floor.” He went to his SUV, got in and waved cheerfully as he drove out of the parking lot.

Jax planned on getting a dog of his own someday. A midsize animal, maybe a beagle mix. Beagles barked a lot, even bayed now and then, but they were sweet tempered, good around kids and well mannered in general, although you had to keep an eye on them where low-lying food was concerned, because they were unabashed thieves.

Family friendly, though.

Jax chuckled, shook his head. Must be the season—he seemed to be thinking about settling down a lot.

Family friendly.

Really?

He needed to talk to Charlie.