Читать книгу Christmas In Mustang Creek - Maisey Yates - Страница 14

CHAPTER FIVE

THE FIRST THING Charlotte saw when she got back to the house was Jax’s truck parked at the curb.

Now, that was interesting.

Charlotte pulled into the driveway and marched up the steps. She’d forgotten her phone, unheard of for a businesswoman, especially one who worked in advertising. Or used to. She acknowledged grudgingly that if he’d called, she wouldn’t have been able to answer. Usually that phone was her constant companion; she’d carried it everywhere for the past seven years.

Strange how she’d left the thing behind and never missed it. At least, not until she’d decided to call and ask Millicent if she needed anything from the store.

There was a certain freedom in her new circumstances and she knew that, but she mustn’t lose perspective. She’d just arrived, and there was a lot of important stuff on her personal agenda.

Now was probably not the best time to embark on a relationship with an all-too-attractive veterinarian. She needed to get the house in order; she needed to get her life in order, look after her aunt and Mutley and Can-Can, too.

She got out of her rental car—which needed to be returned and replaced with a vehicle of her own. As she did, she heard that familiar woof and turned around to look. What was Millicent thinking, going out with the dog when the sidewalks were still icy in some places and totally impassible in others? She could break a hip, for heaven’s sake!

Only it wasn’t Mrs. Klozz.

No, it was Jax, coming her way.

Mutley was with him, straining at his leash, wagging his tail in welcome, eyes luminous with joy at the sight of Charlotte, as if she’d been gone for years, not an hour and a half. Jax’s boots crunched the snow, and the hint of a smile curved his lips. He drawled in what he must imagine was a cowboy accent, “Howdy, Miz Morgan. Shore is a fine day, ain’t it?”

It was, actually, now that the blizzard had passed, replaced by a gentle snowfall.

The mountains were gorgeous in their glistening blanket of white against the softened sky—a sky that would be the same piercing shade of blue as Jax’s eyes, once the clouds parted.

She wished she hadn’t thought of that but, when it came to Dr. Locke, her mind, normally so well organized and reasonable, tended to run wild.

“Um, yes, it is.” She frowned. Why was he here? “Did I leave something at the hotel?”

“No.” He leaned down and caught the dog by the collar just in time to keep Mutley from flinging himself at Charlotte in his exuberance and covering her in slushy paw prints. When he straightened, Jax asked seriously, “How was your aunt?”

“Fine.” Charlotte eyed him suspiciously. “It’s nice of you to walk Mutley, but what are you doing here?”

“Can we discuss this inside?” he asked. “The storm of the century might be over, but it’s still pretty chilly out here.”

The expression on Jax’s handsome face was a touch too innocent, Charlotte felt as she opened the door moments later, but he had a point. As festive as that feathery snowfall was, the temperature was probably in the single digits.

Besides, he’d been a total gentleman the night before, hadn’t he? And now he’d taken Mutley for a much-needed walk. It wasn’t his fault, after all, that she was overly susceptible to his smile.

The least she could do was be courteous.

As they stepped inside, into the warmth and the enticing aromas of whatever was baking in the oven or cooling on the kitchen counter, or both, Charlotte’s thoughts jumped the curb again.

What would’ve happened if he’d had a condom?

Nothing, she told herself firmly.

Liar. You were tempted. You would’ve given in and you know it.

Mrs. Klozz was belting out a rendition of “Jingle Bells” from the kitchen, and the cheery sound was comforting. Charlotte couldn’t imagine walking into the house and finding it empty and quiet, like her former apartment back in the city.

Jax bent and unhooked Mutley’s collar and then hung the leash in exactly the right spot before unzipping his jacket. “Can I take your coat?”

Considering it was her house, Charlotte reflected, she should probably be the one offering to take his coat, but he’d already hung it on the antique coat tree. He seemed awfully...well, at home.

Not surprising, really. It was almost Christmas, and there was magic in the air. The house was cozy, despite its size; it seemed to enfold visitors, make them feel welcome.

Naturally, Jax was comfortable here. Everyone was.

He collected her coat as she unwound her knitted scarf, and he automatically took that from her, draping it over the hook that held her coat. “Thanks,” she said, a little awkwardly. “Can I get you something to drink before you explain why you’re here?”

There. She could be polite, too, and still get her point across.

He smiled, very much at ease. “Mrs. Klozz was making a fresh pot of coffee before Mutley and I took our walk. Let’s go sit in the kitchen. That’s the most beautiful trestle-style table I’ve ever seen, by the way.”

Charlotte blinked. Was she having an out-of-body experience or something?

Mutley might be deaf when it suited him, but he heard the word kitchen and trotted off in that direction to check on his bowl. Jax looked at her expectantly. She muttered, “I agree about the table.” She raised one eyebrow. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough for the grand tour. This is a great old house. Please tell me it always smells this good in here.”

That seemed an odd thing to say. The smell was fabulous, yes, but Jax was merely passing through. Why should he care about always? “I... Well... She likes to bake, apparently.”

He gestured, then bowed slightly. “After you.”

Gracious of him. Charlotte walked into the kitchen and not surprisingly, there was a plate of sugar cookies on the table, decorated with red and green icing, and what looked like banana muffins. Also a plate of chicken-salad sandwiches on homemade bread. Plus a carafe, two coffee cups, two plates, a small creamer and a sugar bowl...

Mrs. Klozz had switched her personal playlist from “Jingle Bells” to “Silent Night,” but stopped in midrefrain when they entered the room. “Oh, you’re back, I see, both of you. How was my dear Geneva?”

“Good. Much better than I expected her to be.” Charlotte wondered if this woman was more wizard than sweet little old lady. “They all said thank-you for the cookies.”

“Oh, my pleasure. Now sit down and help yourselves. I have the shameful habit of tasting everything as I cook, so you’ll rarely find me sitting down to a meal.”

Jax was invited to lunch. She wasn’t surprised, since Millicent seemed that sort of person, but there was an undertone she didn’t understand. Something was afoot.

Earlier, Mrs. Klozz had referred to Jax as Charlotte’s young man. How did she even know that?

Through Geneva, she assumed. Charlotte hadn’t given her aunt the details about their relationship; all she’d mentioned was that she’d met someone and they’d clicked immediately, but their lives were headed in different directions.

That didn’t explain how Mrs. Klozz had known Jax was in Mustang Creek.

Millicent had the good grace to blush slightly. “I invited him over,” she confessed. “You see, he called your cell phone, and I was worried it might be important, so I tried to answer, but I wasn’t fast enough. Then I started punching buttons, and lo and behold, that cunning little device just called him right back. He picked up and, well, here he is.”

Charlotte tilted her head to one side, wondering exactly where she’d lost track of the conversation.

“Okay,” she said.

“Such a modern world,” Mrs. Klozz went on, still talking about the phone. “I don’t mind technology, you understand, but change is always a challenge, especially for an older person. By some miracle, I managed.”

Charlotte was finding out for herself that change was a challenge, and she had the distinct impression that this sweet old lady could manage anything she wanted to. At least it explained why Jax was there.

Sort of.

Jax was focused on the food. “This looks fantastic.”

He was right; it did.

“The way to a man’s heart.” Mrs. Klozz glowed, either heedless of the timeworn cliché she’d uttered or not caring. Before meeting Millicent, Charlotte hadn’t been aware that people could actually glow, but here was proof.

Not standing on ceremony, Jax picked up the plate of sandwiches and offered it to her. “Ladies first.”

* * *

JAX KNEW HE’D have to come clean, and quickly, because Charlotte was intuitive; she’d guess that something was up. If she didn’t want him there—and he was sure she wouldn’t—he’d go dislodge Rufus and sleep on Nate’s old couch. The thought overwhelmed him with loneliness. And the old house really was homey.

He had to wonder what Charlotte was going to do with a place like this. She was used to sleek apartments, cabs and limos and subways. While the small-town girl with the crocheted hat might thrive living within these walls, he wasn’t so sure about Charlotte’s alter ego, the no-nonsense city woman. And right now he hadn’t figured out which Charlotte he was dealing with.

At Millicent’s urging, they took their places at the table.

In the next moment, Mrs. Klozz bustled off to some other part of the house, presumably to give them some time alone.

Charlotte immediately tucked into a sandwich. Well, that answered one question anyway. “I can’t believe how good this is.” Between bites, she dropped her voice and whispered to Jax, “She can’t stay. I’ll gain a thousand pounds.”

Jax smiled at the picture that arose in his mind. “I doubt that,” he said. “A hundred pounds, maybe. But a thousand?”

Charlotte was still fretful. “This is just too delicious.”

Jax agreed. “Best I’ve ever had.”

City Charlotte was back, as quickly as that. “You never answered my question. Why are you here?”

“I...well... I’ve been invited to live here.”

For a few seconds, he really thought Charlotte was choking. He was this close to performing the Heimlich maneuver.

Then she recovered. “Oh, you mean in Mustang Creek. You’re joining Doc Cameron’s practice.” She hesitated and reached for a second sandwich.

“Well, it’s more than that,” he said solemnly. Might as well get this over with. “I called earlier, as Mrs. Klozz mentioned, to ask you where I should look for a place since you’re familiar with Mustang Creek. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, the woman was showing me the east bedroom, apparently convinced I’d be moving in right away. She even came up with a few odd jobs for me to do, starting with walking Mutley.”

“Here?” Charlotte paused midbite, her green eyes wide. “You mean, here here? In this house?”

This was how he’d pictured the conversation going, but it was little comfort. Against all reason, he’d already started thinking of the place as home. When had that happened?

“I wouldn’t be around much,” he heard himself say. “I’m good at fixing things. And I do need a place to stay, as I said before.” He studied Charlotte’s face; she seemed astonished, though not affronted. “But it wasn’t my idea, Charlie. I swear.”

“You can’t sleep down the hall from me.” She wasn’t looking at him; she seemed to be lost in thought.

He should have shut up, he knew that, but he couldn’t refrain from trying to make his case. “Charlie, I’m not going to ravish you, all right? Remember last night? We were in the same room and I didn’t so much as touch you, did I?”

Her response couldn’t have surprised him—or delighted him—more. “I’m not worried that you’ll ravish me, Jax. I’m worried I’ll ravish you.”

The instant the words were out of Charlotte’s mouth, she regretted them. She reddened, obviously horrified. She glared at him, but he could tell she was bluffing. “Forget I said that,” she ordered.

Never.

Things were already improving.

“I’ll lock my door,” he promised, taking a banana muffin. He was very careful not to smile, although he wanted to. God, how he wanted to. He cleared his throat and tried to look earnest. “Seriously, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’ll find a room or apartment somewhere, and in the meantime... I’ve slept in worse places than Nate’s couch.”

Right on cue, Mutley came over and laid his head on Charlie’s leg, gazing up at her. She said curtly, “Mut, don’t take his side. Hasn’t anybody told you that dogs are supposed to be loyal?”

Jax sensed victory. “He loves you, that’s all,” he said in the animal’s defense.

And so do I.

“It’s a male conspiracy to make me say yes.”

Just before Jax took a bite out of a muffin, he asked hopefully, “Is it working?”

“Maybe. I’m fond of Mutley. He’s a hard guy to refuse.”

“Well, then, there you go.”

“Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to have some money coming in.”

Jax allowed himself a grin. “I’ll pay double the going rate,” he said.

“Don’t push it,” Charlie warned. Then she sighed again. “If Mrs. Klozz is behind this, and of course she is, I might as well go with the flow. I’m powerless to resist.”

He felt the same way.

Jax took his time, using his napkin to wipe his mouth as an excuse not to respond immediately. “Let’s take this slowly. I’d appreciate the hospitality, at least for tonight, because the alternative is either the hotel—if they have a room available—or bedding down on Nate’s couch. With his bloodhound, Rufus by name. I’m as fond of bloodhounds as the next guy, but they’re heavy and they drool a lot. A bed here would certainly be preferable.”

Charlotte rubbed her forehead, looking beleaguered—and amused. “Go ahead and stay until you find something else. You should know, however, that I haven’t got the slightest idea what I’m doing with my life. That’s about as honest as I can be. I lost my job, for one thing.”

“I gathered that from your online post.” Oops. He blamed his slip on the muffin; it was delicious. Beyond delicious. “I’m sorry about the job, but not sorry you left New York. Want a bite?”

She plucked off a morsel and ate it. Her shoulders slumped. “I’m not sorry, either. I just want it understood that I have no idea where my plans are right now. Let me get through the holidays first.”

He might argue with the assumption that he was there in pursuit of her, except that it was true. It made sense. If you lived in Idaho, met a woman in New York City and then showed up in someplace like Mustang Creek, Wyoming, your intentions were pretty unmistakable.

Subtle, he wasn’t.

“I’m planning to spend Christmas Eve at the clinic,” he threw out, in case she thought he’d need hand-holding over the holidays.

“You’re in charge of the pet adoption thing this year? Aunt Geneva was telling me about it today. She still reads the weekly paper from cover to cover. Luckily, she’ll be home for Christmas. I’d find it hard to feel merry without her.”

Mrs. Klozz came back in then, followed by the cat, his tail swishing. “I’ve been informed that cats need to eat, too.” Her comment was punctuated by a demanding feline yowl. “You see? Jaxon, would you mind getting Mutley out of here? If only they made dog food that tasted like cat food, then everyone would be happy. He shamelessly eats it in one gobble, and poor Can-Can is left in the lurch.”

Another chance to be useful. At this rate, he’d be indispensable in a matter of days.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kl—Millicent. For lunch, I mean. Mut and I will go up and check the bathroom door. Come on, boy.”

He had to grin at the pensive way Mutley looked over his shoulder, as if he suspected somebody was about to break out a can of cat food, but he followed Jax out of the room.

“We men have to stick together,” Jax told the dog as they climbed the steps to the landing.

The dog barked. Jax took it as a sign of agreement.

On closer examination, Jax discovered that the latch on the bathroom door was stuck because the handle mechanism no longer fit into the frame. With Mutley supervising, he took it apart, using the screwdriver on the pocketknife he carried all the time unless he was dressed up for some reason, which wasn’t often in his line of work. He tightened all the screws, then put the lock back together. It worked like a charm.

Walk the dog. Fix the door. He put a mental check beside both items.

He was getting a lot done; he’d checked out of the hotel and he was ready to move in.

With Mutley at his side, he went out to his extended-cab truck to fetch his suitcase, shaving kit and laptop from the backseat. He’d checked out of the hotel, assuming he’d be staying at Nate’s. There were still a few boxes, but Jax decided to leave those where they were for the time being. The balance between him and Charlotte was delicate; he didn’t want to come across as pushy.

Upstairs in his new bedroom, Mutley lay down, panting, to watch as Jax unpacked his clothes, hung up his shirts, stowed away his other belongings in the antique dresser. He set his laptop on the desk and plugged it in to charge.

That done, he sat down on the edge of the quilted bed and dispatched a brief text to his dad. Just your basic update, a “hello, I’m fine, how are you?” kind of thing. This time of day “Doc Locke,” as the locals called him, would still be with his furry patients. Jax would call him later with his new—temporary—address and the phone number at the veterinary clinic.

In the meantime, since he had the afternoon free, maybe he’d go out and do some Christmas shopping. Get a look at the town in the process.

Now that he was acquainted with Mutley, who seemed a perfectly adequate canine, he was having second thoughts about presenting Charlotte with a dog. So he was back at square one when it came to buying her a Christmas gift. He’d bought gifts for his dad and various other family members online, so that was done, but he wanted to pick up a little something for Mrs. Klozz, for the vet techs and receptionist over at Nate’s clinic and for Charlotte’s aunt, too.

There was one problem, though.

“Hey, Mut, what do old ladies like?”

The dog unhelpfully gave a small snore, sound asleep in a stray patch of sunlight coming through the window. He opened one eye when Jax went to the door, then closed it again. Evidently, old Mutley had had all the fun he could stand for one day.