Читать книгу A Mistletoe Vow: A Cold Creek Christmas Story / Falling for Mr December / A Husband for the Holidays - RaeAnne Thayne - Страница 11
ОглавлениеShe couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through, knowing his daughter had been hurt. She also could tell by the threads of guilt twining through his voice that he blamed himself for not being able to control the situation and keep his daughter safe.
“What happened wasn’t your fault,” she murmured.
“Wasn’t it?” he asked, the words clipped.
Unable to resist the need to offer him comfort, she reached out her hand and rested it softly on his.
She completely understood where he was coming from. She knew all about that crushing weight of responsibility.
In that last panicked rush toward the helicopter and the navy SEALs, she had been terrified as usual. She had hesitated, frozen in fear. Her father had paused to go back for her and shoved her in front of him, pushing her forward with his usual words of encouragement as they had raced to safety.
He had thrust her into the helicopter ahead of him, but her split second of fear had had a terrible cost. Her father had been shot just before he would have been able to make it to safety.
If she hadn’t been so afraid, if she had started to run when he had first told her to go, maybe her father would still be with them now.
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we were all given one do-over in life?” she murmured. “One free pass to go back and change one action, one decision, one thoughtless word?”
He gave her a searching look, as if trying to figure out what moment she would alter. Finally he nodded. “One would be a start, I suppose, though I probably could use about a half dozen free passes.”
“Instead, we have to do our best to live with the consequences of our choices.”
“Not an easy task, is it?”
No. She had been trying for nearly twenty years.
He flexed his hand and she realized with great chagrin that she was still touching him. She pulled her fingers back quickly, her skin still tingling from the heat of him.
After an awkward moment, he turned to his daughter.
“Olivia, we should probably take off or someone else will eat our delicious pizza.”
“We haven’t ordered it yet,” she said with a concerned frown. “Do you think they’ll run out?”
“I was just teasing. But we really should go.”
“Okay,” she said reluctantly. She rubbed noses with Linus and petted Lucy one last time, then stood up.
She might have been mistaken, but Celeste thought she seemed to be moving better, even than a few days before.
Flynn drove a luxury SUV that smelled of expensive leather with hints of his woodsy, intoxicating aftershave. As he drove to the pizza place in town, she and Olivia talked about the books the girl had checked out of the library and about her schoolwork and her home in California.
He seemed content to listen, though once or twice she caught him giving her a sidelong glance, no doubt trying to figure out how he had gotten saddled spending the evening with the boring children’s librarian.
Monday night was family night at the Rocky Mountain Pizza Company—The Rock, as they called it in town. From the outside it looked as though the place was hopping.
This was one of the more family-friendly hangouts in Pine Gulch. Though it had a pool table in the back room, it also featured foosball and air hockey tables, as well as a few vintage video games like Ms. PAC-MAN and pinball.
Celeste came here about once a month, either with her sister or with friends. Usually she enjoyed the delicious wood-fired pizza and the comfortable, familiar atmosphere. The scent alone—garlic and yeast and a fabulous red sauce—made her stomach rumble.
On the heels of that first sensory overload, though, Celeste became aware that people were looking with curiosity at her and her companions.
She saw the police chief, Trace Bowman, and his wife, Becca, at one table with their children. In the next booth were Nate Cavazos and his wife, Emery, one of her good friends. Emery and Becca both looked intrigued.
For a wild moment, she wished she had refused the invitation from Olivia—or that she had persuaded Flynn to take them all the way to Jackson Hole or even Idaho Falls, somewhere far away from Pine Gulch where people didn’t know her.
Instead, she squared her shoulders, waved at her friends and did her best to ignore their speculative looks.
“Hi, Celeste,” Natalie Dalton, the hostess chirped the greeting while looking at Flynn and Olivia with curiosity.
She used to babysit for Nat and her siblings. “Hi, Natalie. Great to see you. I miss seeing you at the library these days.”
“I still come in, though mostly at night for study groups. I just don’t have much reason to hit the children’s section anymore unless I’ve got one of the little ones with me.”
Her father and stepmother had two children together, in addition to the four Wade Dalton had had with his first wife, who had died tragically in childbirth.
Natalie turned her attention to Olivia and Flynn. “Hi, there. Welcome to The Rock. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Natalie.”
Celeste felt as though she had the manners of a dried-up turnip right now. “Sorry. This is Flynn Delaney and his daughter, Olivia.”
She smiled at them both. “Hi, Olivia. Hi, Flynn.”
“We’re here celebrating a certain young lady’s seventh birthday today,” Celeste said.
“Happy birthday!” Natalie exclaimed, beaming at her and holding her hand out for a fist bump.
“Thank you,” Olivia said. She didn’t meet her eye, and though she raised her hand halfheartedly to bump Nat’s, she quickly lowered it again and looked at the floor.
What had happened to the animated birthday girl who had chattered in the car about her favorite Jan Brett Christmas book? Now she seemed nervous and uneasy, as if she wanted to be anywhere else in the world than the best pizza place in the entire region.
Celeste placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. When she’d first arrived in Pine Gulch after their Colombian ordeal, it had taken her a long time before she could completely relax in public places like this. She imagined Olivia was feeling the same way.
“I’ve got the perfect table for a birthday girl,” Natalie said, her cheerfulness undeterred by Olivia’s reticence. “Follow me, guys.”
Indeed, she led them to an excellent table overlooking the Christmas lights on Main Street. From here, they even could see the fun display in the window of the local toy store.
“Thanks,” Flynn murmured. Olivia slid into the booth first and Flynn went in after her. Celeste slid across from them.
“What’s good here?” Flynn asked, scanning one of the menus Natalie left them.
“Everything,” she answered honestly. “The pizza, the pasta, the sandwiches. You can’t go wrong.”
“I wanted pizza,” Olivia said, her voice still small.
“Pizza it is,” Flynn said. “Why don’t we order three personal size? Then everybody can choose the toppings they like.”
“The personal size is usually huge,” she told him. “At least enough for two people.”
“That’s okay. Pizza leftovers are one of the true joys in life, right?”
When he smiled, she thought he should have been the movie star in the family instead of his mother and former wife. He would break hearts all over the world with those completely natural good looks.
Her stomach jumped all over the place again. Oh, this crush was so embarrassing. She would be lucky if she could eat any pizza at all.
At least she was able to talk casually when he asked her to help him choose between pizza selections. A few moments later the server, Lucy Boyer—Natalie’s cousin—headed over to take their order.
She beamed when she spotted Celeste. “Hey, Ms. N. How are things?”
“Great, Lucy. How are you?”
“Can’t complain. I’m working on my college essays and it’s such a pain. You probably love that kind of thing, since you’re a genius author and all. You might not know this, but for some people writing is hard.”
She didn’t want to burst that particular fantasy by telling her the truth, that sometimes every single word was a struggle.
“Hey, what’s this I hear about a Sparkle movie in the works?”
How on earth did rumors spread like that? She hadn’t made her final decision yet, though she knew she couldn’t wait much longer.
“A movie?” Olivia exclaimed. “Really?”
For some reason, Flynn’s easy expression had tightened, and he was gazing at her with his brow furrowed.
“I don’t know yet. Possibly.” Probably.
She still wasn’t sure she wanted to see her baby on the big screen, but at this point she didn’t know how to stop that particular train.
“That’s seriously cool. I’ll be the first in line to buy tickets. That’s such a great story.”
“It’s my favorite, too,” Olivia said.
“Cool! I heard from a little squirrel that you’ve got a birthday today.”
Olivia nodded. She looked as though she was torn between withdrawing into herself to hide from the attention and any kid’s natural excitement about being the star of the day.
“We’ll make sure your pizza is perfect, then. What kind do you want?”
Olivia ordered cheese, which Lucy assured them would come with a special birthday surprise. Celeste picked her favorite, margherita, which came with fresh basil and the hand-pulled mozzarella The Rock was famous for, and Flynn went for the meat lover’s delight.
After she left, Flynn picked up the conversation.
“A movie?” he asked.
“We’re in talks,” she answered. “It’s a terrifying proposition, to be honest.”
“Will the real Sparkle be in the movie?” Olivia asked.
Celeste smiled. “It’s going to be animated, so no.”
She and the little girl started talking about their favorite holiday films—Olivia’s was Elf, while Celeste still favored It’s A Wonderful Life.
In no time, their pizza arrived. Olivia’s surprise was that her pizza was shaped like a Christmas tree.
The pizza was every bit as good as usual, cooked just right in the wood-fired oven.
Flynn apparently agreed. “Wow,” he said after the first bite. “That’s a good pie. If I’d known how good, we would have been eating here every night since we came to town.”
“Doug and Jacinda DeMarco, the owners, are big on the artisan pizza scene. They make their own mozzarella and burrata and try to use locally sourced produce and meats wherever they can. They have an extensive greenhouse where they grow their own fresh herbs and vegetables year-round. It’s quite an operation.”
“Who would have thought I could find such a good pizza in the wilds of eastern Idaho?”
She smiled, proud of her little community. While it might be primarily a ranching town, Pine Gulch was gaining a reputation as a foodie destination and a magnet for artists.
“I understand they get customers from as far away as Jackson Hole who read about the pizza online and want to try a slice.”
She was finishing her second slice when she spotted her friend Caidy Caldwell coming in with her husband, the local veterinarian, and their children. Caidy had grown up in Cold Creek Canyon and had been a friend for a long time. Celeste loved seeing her so happy with Ben.
When she spotted Celeste, she waved, said something to Ben and the kids, then headed in her direction.
“Hi, Celeste! I’m so glad I bumped into you. Great story time last week. The kids really enjoyed it.”
“Thanks. It was great to see you there.”
“I don’t know how you always manage to find such absolutely charming stories—old favorites and then so many that no one has ever heard before.”
“That’s my job,” she said with a smile. That was one of her favorite parts about it, seeking out the new and unusual along with the classics everybody expected and loved.
“You do it well,” Caidy said. “Almost too well. We might have to quit coming to the library. Every time you read a new book the kids have to buy it.”
“Because they’re all so good.” Her stepdaughter, Ava, had joined her.
“Right. But now the shelves of our home library are bulging.”
“You can never have too many books,” Celeste answered.
“That’s what I always say,” Ava exclaimed. She turned to Olivia. “Hi. I’m Ava Caldwell.”
“Sorry. This is Flynn Delaney and his daughter, Olivia. Flynn, this is my friend Caidy Caldwell and her daughter, Ava. Ava also has a brother about your age named Jack and a new baby brother who is the cutest thing around, Liam.”
As her friend smiled at the two of them, Celeste didn’t miss the flash of recognition or sympathy in her gaze before she smoothly masked her reaction. Caidy obviously had followed the news stories and knew what had happened to the girl.
“I’m happy to meet you both,” her friend said with a smile. “Welcome to Pine Gulch. I hope you’re staying around for a while.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Only until after the holidays.”
“Well, you picked one of the best times of the whole year to be here. You won’t find many prettier winter wonderlands than this part of Idaho.”
“It’s lovely,” he agreed.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner. I just needed to ask you again what time practice is tomorrow. I know you’ve told me a half dozen times but I swear Christmas makes my brain leak out of my ears.”
“Four thirty sharp at the St. Nicholas Lodge at the ranch. We should be done by six thirty.”
“Perfect. My kids are so excited about it.”
Celeste had no idea how Hope had persuaded her to take on one more thing, in this case organizing a small program to be performed at an inaugural Senior Citizens Christmas dinner a few days before the holiday.
Hope’s particular skill was getting Celeste to do things she ordinarily never would attempt—like publish her books and then agree to allow one of those books to be made into a movie.
“Olivia, if you’re going to be here through Christmas, you should think about being in the play,” Ava suggested.
Flynn tensed up at the idea, his jaw taut. To Celeste’s surprise, Olivia only looked intrigued.
“I was in a play in school once. It was fun.”
“This isn’t a huge production,” Celeste assured Flynn. “We’re just doing a simple Christmas program. Everybody who wants to participate gets a part. We’re mostly singing songs everybody already knows.”
“Can I do it, Dad?”
He frowned. “We’ll have to talk about that. We’re pretty busy cleaning out the house. I don’t know if we’ll have time to go to practices and things.”
“There are only three practices,” Celeste said. “Tomorrow, Thursday night and Saturday morning, and then the show is Tuesday, the day before Christmas Eve. She would be more than welcome to come. The rehearsals and the show are all at the St. Nicholas Lodge at The Christmas Ranch, just five minutes from your place.”
* * *
A Christmas program. With an audience, applause. The whole bit. He wanted to tell them all absolutely not, to grab his daughter and drag her out of here.
He’d had enough of performers to last him a lifetime. His entire life, he had been forced to wait on the sidelines while the important females in his life sought fame and recognition. His mother had made it clear from the time he was old enough to understand that he could never be the most important thing in her life—not when her adoring public already held that honor.
Elise had pretended otherwise, but when it came down to it, he had been even less important to her, only a stepping-stone on her journey to success.
He didn’t want Olivia anywhere near a stage or a movie set. So far she hadn’t shown any inclination in that direction, much to his relief. He wanted to keep it that way.
He told himself he was being ridiculous. It was only a Christmas program, not a Broadway production. Still, he didn’t want to offer her any opportunity to catch the performing bug.
She was still so fragile. While her physical wounds had mostly healed, emotionally and mentally she was still had a long journey.
Was he being too protective? Probably. Her therapist in California told him he needed to relax and let go a little. He didn’t need to watch over her every single moment. Right now he had a tendency to want to keep her close, to tuck her up against him and make sure nothing terrifying or tragic ever touched her again.
That wasn’t a healthy approach, either. He couldn’t protect her from everything, even though he wanted to.
“Can I do it, Dad?” she asked again.
This was the same girl who freaked out in large crowds, who didn’t like loud noises and who tended to panic if strangers tried to talk to her.
Did she seriously think she could handle being onstage in front of a bunch of strangers?
“We can talk about it later,” he said.
“Absolutely,” Caidy said with a cheerful smile, though he thought he saw soft compassion in her gaze.
Did she know about what had happened to Olivia? Probably. Most of the damn world knew. It had led media reports around the world for a week, had been on the cover of all the tabloids and celebrity rags.
When an Oscar-nominated actress is gunned down by her equally famous if mentally ill boyfriend—who then shoots her young child before killing himself—people tended to pay attention.
If he thought he could come to this remote corner of Idaho and escape notice, he was delusional. He doubted he could find anywhere on the planet where the news hadn’t reached.
Maybe he could have taken Olivia on an African safari or something, but even then he wouldn’t have been surprised if people in the veld knew of Elise Chandler.
“It was nice to meet you,” Ava said politely. “I hope we see you at rehearsal tomorrow.”
His daughter needed friends, he thought again. They had always been important to her. Before everything happened, she always had been begging to have a friend over to use the pool or watch a movie.
Since her release from the hospital, she hadn’t been interested in doing the normal things a seven-year-old girl would do. Ava Caldwell was older than his daughter, maybe eleven or twelve, but she seemed very kind. Maybe Celeste knew of some other likely candidates Olivia could hang out with while they were in town.
If it helped her interact with children around her age, would the Christmas program really be that bad?
Being a parent was a tough enough gig under the best of circumstances. Throw in the kind of trauma his daughter had endured and he felt as though he was foundering, trying to stay afloat in thirty-foot swells.
The Caldwells waved and headed for their table, and Flynn returned to his delicious pizza. The people at the Rocky Mountain Pizza Company knew what they were doing when it came to pie, he had to admit. Olivia, he saw, ate two pieces and even some of the family-style tossed salad, which seemed something of a record for her, given her poor appetite these days.
While they ate, they talked about Christmas and books and a couple of movies they had all seen. Three different times, people who came into the restaurant stopped at their booth to say hello to Celeste.
Olivia seemed to find that of great interest. “Do you know everybody who lives here?” she finally asked.
Celeste laughed, a light, musical sound. “Not even close, though it feels like it sometimes. When you live in a place for a long time you get to know lots of people. I’ve been in Pine Gulch since I was eleven—except for the years I was away in Boise and Seattle for school.”
“Where did you live before that?” he asked, suddenly intensely curious about her.
He was even more curious when her cheerful features seemed to go still and closed. She didn’t say anything for several long seconds, so long that he wasn’t sure she was going to answer him at all.
“It didn’t seem like a tough question,” he said mildly.
“For you, maybe,” she retorted. “You grew up in California with your mother after your parents divorced, and spent your summers here with Charlotte, right?”
How did she know that? he wondered. He only remembered meeting her a few times back when he would come to visit and didn’t remember ever sharing that information with her. Maybe Charlotte had told her.
He gave her a close look but she seemed lost in her own thoughts.
“That’s right,” he answered. “And you?”
“No one specific place,” she finally answered. “I lived all over the globe, if you want the truth. I was born in a hut in Ghana, and before I was eleven, I lived in about two dozen countries. My parents were missionaries who started health clinics in underserved places of the world. Before I came to Pine Gulch, we were living in Colombia.”
Some kind of vague, unsettling memory poked at him, a whisper he had once heard about Celeste and her sisters. Something to do with a kidnapping, with her parents.
He couldn’t put his finger on the details. What was it? Was that the reason for those secrets in her eyes, for the pain he sensed there?
He opened his mouth to ask her, but before he could a loud clatter echoed through the place as a server busing the table next to them dropped the bin of dishes.
At the sudden, unexpected sound, Olivia gave one terrified gasp and slid from her seat under the table.
Damn, he hated these moments when her PTSD took over. They left him both furious and profoundly sad. He took a breath and leaned down to talk her through it, but Celeste beat him to it. She reached down and gave Olivia’s shoulder a comforting squeeze beneath the table.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. It was only dishes. That’s all. I know you were startled, but you’re safe, sweetheart.”
Olivia was making little whimpering noises that broke his heart all over again.
“I don’t like loud noises,” she said.
“Especially when you don’t expect them and don’t have time to prepare. Those are the worst, right?”
To his shock, Celeste spoke with a tone of experience. He gazed at her, trying to remember again what he knew about her and her sisters.
“They are,” Olivia said. Though she still sounded upset, he could no longer hear the blind panic in her voice.
“Why don’t you come up and finish your pizza? If you want, I can ask Lucy about fixing you one of their best desserts. It’s a big gooey chocolate-chip cookie they bake in the wood-fired oven and top with hand-churned ice cream. I think you’ll love it. I know it’s my favorite thing to eat when I’ve been startled or upset about something.”
After another moment, Olivia peeked her head out from under the booth. “They’re not going to make that sound again, are they?”
“I don’t think so. That was an accident.”
“I hope they don’t have another accident,” she answered in a small voice.
“If they do, your dad and I are right here to make sure nothing hurts you.”
That seemed enough to satisfy her. His daughter slid back onto the seat. She still had a wild look in her eyes, and he noticed she edged closer to him and constantly looked toward Celeste for reassurance while they finished their pizza.
He didn’t miss the protective expression Celeste wore in return, an expression that turned his insides just as gooey as that chocolate-chip cookie she was talking about.
He couldn’t let himself develop feelings for this woman, no matter how amazing she was with his child, he reminded himself.
He had to focus on his daughter right now. She was the only thing that mattered.
