Home For Christmas (A Copper Mountain Christmas) (17 page)

On December twenty-fourth, Rachel stood outside the Dutch door at the Bar V5. Her cellphone buzzed. She didn't have to look at the screen to know another text from Nate had arrived. He wanted to see her.

Too bad.

Nate was in town, trying to track her down. Ty had told her as much when he handed off the keys to his pickup. Her brother had packed up her things, but Rachel wanted to make sure nothing had been forgotten, especially her baking gear. She also had something only she could drop off. This ranch had felt like home. She couldn't leave without a final farewell.

The mudroom door was unlocked, as it usually was during the day. With a tote bag hanging from her shoulder, she carried the boxes containing gingerbread houses and trees inside, walking straight to the dining room.

Rachel dropped the tote on the table then set the boxes next to her bag. She never wanted to see Nate again, so she was planning a move to Butte or Helena. A little far from Ty, but closer than Phoenix and safer for her heart than Marietta. She opened the top box.

The scent of gingerbread greeted her, a bittersweet smell that intensified the squeezing, achy pain in her chest. Even though she wanted to wring Nate's clueless neck, she owed him for the use of his kitchen, letting her stay here in a beautiful room and sharing his business expertise.

Rachel was here to pay in the only currency she had that Nate might appreciate—gingerbread.

Then she could move on, feeling no further obligation to Nate Vaughn. Well, as long as she didn't need her heart back soon. The emotions would take time to heal. The memories would linger, too. Not for too long, she hoped.

She took in the majestic tree's ornament-laden branches, her name on one of the stockings by the fireplace, the cursed sprigs of mistletoe hanging like acrobatic Cupids and the breathtaking mountains outside the windows.

The vice tightening around her heart made breathing difficult. But being here was hard. Only a day ago she thought she might stay here forever with Nate, with the man she'd fallen in love with. Now she was looking at the ranch for the last time.

She wouldn't be returning. Not ever.

The tears she expected pricked her eyes. She was horrible at goodbyes. Maybe because they were never her choice.

Pull yourself together.

With a wipe of her eyes, Rachel set to work on the gingerbread. She had to be finished before Nate returned. That didn't give her much time. Marietta was a small town to search.

CHAPTER TEN

The ranch was the last place Nate wanted to be on Christmas Eve. Too empty. Too quiet. Too lonely. Just like his life.

Until had Rachel arrived.

If only he hadn't screwed up.

She'd told him exactly how to break her trust, and he'd used her own words, like a map, to do just that. What burned the most was he'd become one of
them
, people she believed had manipulated her for their own gain.

People she never wanted to speak to again.

His talk with Ty yesterday had sparked hope. If Nate could tell Rachel he didn't care whether her brother remained his partner maybe she'd give him another chance. All Nate cared about was getting her back, earning her trust.

Earning, not winning.

But Nate had tried calling, texting, emailing, showing up at Ty's apartment in person and searching through town. There were no more chances.

Worse, he only had himself to blame.

Nate tossed his keys onto a bench in the mudroom. He didn't remove his boots. Who cared if the floors got wet? He didn't care about anything but Rachel.

Maybe he should cancel tomorrow's Christmas potluck dinner. He didn't feel like being a gracious host or cooking a turkey. Getting drunk sounded pretty damn good. There hadn't been time for that yesterday or today.

He walked into the dark kitchen, the only lights the glowing digits on the microwave clock. The Nativity play at the church would be starting in less than an hour. Most everyone he knew would be there, including Rachel. At least that was what Annie had told him this afternoon when he'd stopped by the diner.

An elephant, one with an amazing memory, seemed to sit on his chest. Damn, he could hardly breathe.

He walked past the bare island and counters. No gingerbread or cookies or cakes in sight. No mouthwatering scent of baked goods in the oven or dinner simmering on a burner. No mealtime where he would get to sit next to her and listen to her talk and talk.

Nate missed Rachel so much.

He lengthened his stride to get out of the kitchen faster. The memories of her were too strong, even in the darkness. Maybe by spring he wouldn't mind so much. Until then he'd eat out or cook at the bunkhouse's small kitchen.

In the great room, the Christmas tree lights twinkled. He could build a fire and turn on a few lamps. Or maybe not. Sitting in the darkness fit his mood.

Tiny white lights reflected in the window. Ones he didn't recognize.

Nate took a closer look.

On top of the dining room table sat a huge gingerbread house, a replica of the Bar V5, the barn and three lighted trees.

Air rushed from his lungs.

I want one.

Yours is on me. A thank you.

Rachel had remembered and gone overboard with the lights inside, mimicking the warm glow through the windows. He'd told her about getting lost in a blizzard one February. Frostbitten, he'd found his way home due to that light. She'd made tiny footprints—his footprints—in the snow, depicting the moment he'd reached safety at the ranch. The moment when the warmth of his home had not only enveloped him, but saved his life.

Nate's heart beat like the timpani in Handel's Messiah. He forced his feet to move, turning on the light when he reached the dining room.

A small envelope with his name written in cursive leaned against the tree. He opened the flap and removed a note card. The picture on the front showed two gingerbread men with bowties and a red-plaid heart ornament leaning against a lantern with a lit votive candle inside. Cheery and Christmassy. Very Rachel-like. He opened the card.

Nate,

I appreciate you giving me free rein in your kitchen and house. Being at the Bar V5 was a dream come true this December. My goal was to make enough with my gingerbread to afford a lease deposit. Thanks to you and your business expertise, I have more than enough seed money to start my own bakery. I hope you have a very Merry Christmas and find your heart's desire in the New Year. Thanks again for everything!

Sincerely,

Rachel

She'd drawn a heart on the right side of her name.

He reread the note. Twice. If she were speaking the words, she would sound thankful, appreciative, professional.

All business, but that was okay.

At least she didn't sound upset, angry, hateful.

Every word spoke of her gratitude. She even wanted him to find his heart's desire. Too bad he'd found it, only to screw up and lose the one thing that meant the most.

That elephant returned, stomping on his heart, the pain more intense than before. He plopped onto one of the dining room chairs.

Rachel.

He loved her.

It was as simple and as complicated as that.

He'd screwed up. He'd been a first class jackass. But he couldn't let her go without at least trying to make things right. And apologize.

His gaze zeroed in on the heart next to her name.

She hadn't sounded angry. No attitude or negativity. That had to be a good sign.

The heart could be another sign.

A choir might not be singing Hallelujah, but the hope growing inside him more than made up for the lack of voices.

Nate could be in denial. He would admit being desperate.

But a woman who stormed away from him with tears gleaming in her eyes only to bring him a special gingerbread house and a gracious note was capable of forgiveness.

He pulled out his cellphone to call Ty. This had to work.

Otherwise tomorrow really would be a blue Christmas.

At Ty's apartment, Rachel sat on the couch and wrapped her brother's last stocking stuffer. The green and red polka-dotted paper was cheery, but she felt as if Christmas had gone missing
and she didn't know where to look for it.

But she couldn't give up—or give in—to the melancholy wanting to bring her down.

Yes, her heart was hurting. Broken. She'd misjudged someone again, and fallen in love with him to make the situation even harder.

But she'd told Ty she was okay if she failed.

Time to suck it up. Put on her big girl panties. Not ruin Christmas for her brother. She'd survived losses and not been broken. She'd survived because Ty had been at her side. When he left Arizona, she'd been disappointed, hurt even, but she understood. He had his own life to live and dreams to follow. Even from far away, he did what he could to make sure she felt loved. Ty deserved to be happy. And so did she. If all they ever had for family was each other, she was still lucky.

This was going to be their first white Christmas. The first of many.

Rachel glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. She had fifteen minutes until the Nativity play started, plenty of time to make the short walk to the church and meet Zack, who was driving out from the Bar V5 where Ty was held up.

But he'd promised he would be back at the apartment when she returned. She hoped so because tonight was one night she couldn't bear to be alone.

"What in the hell are you scheming now?"

The sound of Ty's voice made Nate look up from his computer monitor. "Thanks for staying late."

"You haven't answered my question."

"I'm going to get your sister back. She made me a gingerbread house and a barn. A tree, too."

"As a thank you. That's what Rachel does."

"I've got a chance." Nate couldn't explain why he felt that way when the odds suggested he would fail, but he did. "If I don't at least try… I've got a plan."