Santa In Montana (10 page)

“From what I heard, the court-appointed lawyer for Donovan's estate practically paid you to take it,” Laredo jested.

“We got a good deal on it,” was the most Ross would admit.

They chatted a bit about the business. All the while Ross kept one eye on the kitchen area. Somewhere in the conversation Jessy got the sense that Ross hadn't stopped by their booth merely to make sure the food was all right—or to be social. He had some other reason.

As she was trying to figure out what it might be, Ross leaned forward in a confiding manner. “I'm glad you stopped in here tonight, Laredo. A couple weeks ago I hired a new guy to work in the kitchen. A Mexican named Octavio. He's been asking about you.”

“Really? Why?” Laredo's tone was smooth but wary.

“Damned if I know,” Ross admitted. “But he knows your name and he knew you live in this area. Just not where.”

Stiffening a little, Jessy stole a worried glance at Laredo, not sure what any of this meant, but she had a feeling it wasn't anything good.

“Did he say what he wants with me?”

“Not to me. But one time I did overhear him talking about you in Spanish to Miguel. Octavio mentioned your name and then said something about being sent by the wind. I probably got that part wrong, but that's what it sounded like.”

“The wind, huh.” Laredo smiled. And it was the ease of his smile that Jessy immediately noticed. All that innate wariness was suddenly gone. “Now you've got me curious. If it's all right with you, I'll go talk to him and find what all this ‘wind' business is about.”

“Sure. I'll take you back.”

The two men eased out of the booth and Ross walked with Laredo to the rear of the restaurant, not far from their booth. Shifting in her seat, Jessy watched as Ross went into the kitchen and came out with the Mexican. After introducing him to Laredo, Ross left the two men alone.

She strained to hear what was said. Octavio's voice was low and he spoke in rapid-fire Spanish that she didn't understand. Laredo's first words were clear.

“Slow down. My Spanish is a little rusty.” She made out that much in a lull in the restaurant noise.

Octavio appeared to comply, but a party of five came in, talking among themselves and calling out greetings. There was no way Jessy could hear Laredo's conversation above their noise. She gave up trying and simply waited.

After a few moments more, Laredo returned to the booth.

“What was that all about?”

“Nothing, really.” He slid onto the seat beside her. “Sorry it took so long.”

Not buying his answer, she pressed for a better explanation. “It had to be more than nothing.”

“He's just a friend of a friend, up here looking for a job.”

“Ross said he was working for him.”

Laredo nodded and checked out the dessert menu. “Yeah, but he'd like something with better pay.”

“Why is that your problem?”

“It isn't,” he said absently. “That chocolate cake looks good. Or maybe I'll have a slice of pie.” He glanced up at her, his gaze shuttered. “But I don't mind vouching for the guy if he wants to hire on as a cook somewhere.”

“You mean the Triple C?” Jessy frowned.

“No. As far as I know, Baker doesn't need any extra hands.”

Jessy wasn't fooled by his casual tone. But if he wasn't going to tell her what really had been said between him and the stranger, she had no way to drag it out of him.

“Okay. Whatever you say, Laredo.”

His withdrawn expression made her uneasy, that and his air of preoccupation, a kind of odd thoughtfulness. There was one possible cause for both.

“Is something wrong?” She watched him closely.

He put down the menu and looked at her. “No. Not at all. I was just remembering—”

“What?”

Laredo shrugged and smiled. “The old days. Before you.” His gaze was warm, almost adoring.

She had the impression that he was studying her carefully. As if he was memorizing every feature of her face. But she couldn't detect anthing that suggested Laredo was troubled by the meeting. Maybe he had been simply recalling his past life. Did he miss it? Or someone. Sitting side by side when he was a million miles away was frustating.

“To the Boar's Nest? Takes a while to heat up that old line shack, but there is plenty of firewood.”

“The ranch, then. We don't have to go in to the main house. I just want to be somewhere alone with you. We don't have to talk either.”

“I like the way you think.” He retrieved an ancient hand-tooled leather wallet from his jeans pocket and took out several tens, sliding them under the condiments holder where the waitress could see them.

“Thanks for dinner.” She smiled at him.

“Any time.”

 

Eventually, they pulled over on one of the ranch's back roads and just held each other for a long time, doing more kissing than talking. There was a sweet intensity to his strong and slow lovemaking that Jessy had been missing lately. At the same time his gentle caresses made her crave more from him, but they could only go so far in the cab of a pickup on a winter night.

Laredo lifted his head and glanced out and around, as if he was checking their surroundings. The immense landscape stretched empty to the black edge of the horizon.

“Look at that,” Laredo said.

Jessy moved out of his embracing arms and saw the crescent moon above them in the clear night sky, shining from within a vast, delicate circle of ice high in the atmosphere.

“It's beautiful,” Jessy murmured in wonder. “Something you don't see very often.”

“Maybe it's a sign.”

She turned to look at his shadowed face. He wasn't smiling. “Of what?”

He gave a short, low laugh. “If you asked Chase, he'd say it meant bad weather was on the way.”

“Probably.” Jessy smiled in agreement. “What does it mean to you?”

He didn't reply right away. “Can't exactly say what it means,” he said after a while. “Maybe that we ought to stop what we're doing and look up more. And give thanks for what we have as long as we have it.”

“What are you getting at?” The tinge of melancholy in his comment confused her.

“I can't explain it, Jessy. Not now.” He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her with a sudden, fierce hunger that left her wonderfully breathless.

Sloan came down the oak stairs, balancing an armload of wrapped gifts. As she rounded the newel post at the last step, she inadvertently bumped against it. One package teetered. She did a little juggling act and managed to keep it from falling. There was no one around to hear her sigh of relief. She'd wanted to get the gifts wrapped and under the tree before a certain curious kid knew what his mother was up to.

Not that the presents were all for Jake. But he was apt to think so. She didn't want any of them rattled or poked or subjected to a small boy's mental X-rays.

Hoping he wasn't hanging out with his great-grandfather in the den, Sloan made a detour to the room's open door, catching a glimpse of Chase at his desk, absorbed in paperwork.

So far, so good. As quietly as she could, she retreated to the living room where the tree was. Carefully, she set the presents down beside it, then took a minute to arrange them around the skirted base.

Finished, Sloan stepped back to admire the ever-growing pile. Recalling how many already had Jake's name on their tag, she reminded herself to have a notepad and pencil nearby for a thank-you list. If nothing else, Jake was going to sign his name to the card to acknowledge each and every one of his gifts.

As she started back to the stairs, she heard Chase talking. It took a second for her to realize he was on the phone with someone. Drawn by the intensity in his deep voice, Sloan paused to listen.

“Sounds like you're making progress,” Chase said to whoever was on the other end of the line. “Can't come quick enough. Time's getting short.”

There was a long pause while he listened. Sloan stayed where she was, feeling a twinge of guilt that she was eavesdropping on a private conversation.

“As soon as you give me the word, I'll have it ready,” Chase went on. “Yes. It's already arranged.”

She hesitated as Chase wrapped up the call.

“Stay in touch, Wade.”

The minute she realized Chase had been speaking with Wade Rogers, she recalled the check Chase had written to him. The telltale creak of the desk chair followed by the clump of the cane warned Sloan that Chase was getting up. Not wanting him to find her, she moved quickly and noiselessly back to the Christmas tree.

By the time he emerged from the den, she was occupied with bending the thin wire hook on a bauble and re-hanging it on a different tree branch.

His sharp gaze traveled over her with a thoroughness that made her quail inside. Then his attention shifted to the wrapped presents. “Either my eyes are deceiving me or that heap is growing higher. You must have added more.”

“A few.” She nodded, fighting an attack of nerves. “I did.”

“Aha. I thought I heard you come downstairs. Having fun playing Santa Claus, are you?”

“Always,” she said with a quick smile. She was relieved that he didn't suspect her of eavesdropping, but that didn't make her feel less guilty about it. “I wanted to get them out of hiding while Jake is over at Dan's house playing. He should be back any minute.”

“I wondered where he was.”

“I have nearly everything wrapped and one batch under the tree. So far, I'm in good shape.”

“Indeed.”

Sloan didn't know whether to stay or leave. Chase was looking at her as if he expected her to say more. Overcome with curiosity, she decided to ask him about the call. It wasn't as if he'd had his door shut.

“Did I hear right? Were you just on the phone with Wade Rogers?”

“I was. Why do you ask?”

She attempted an idle shrug. “I was just wondering if he told you when he would be back. I mean it's so very obvious how much Cat is looking forward to having dinner with him.”

The remark, meant to distract him, worked. His pleased expression told Sloan that much. “Yes, she is anxious.” Then he remembered her initial question. “If all goes well, Wade should be here this weekend.”

“Just in time for the ranch Christmas party.”

“Forgot about that,” he said. “It's this Saturday, isn't it?”

“Yes, although I can't say Jake's looking forward to playing the shepherd boy.”

Chase gave a chuckle. “Still grumbling about wearing those sandals, is he?”

“Only all the time. Oh—” The bauble she'd hung slipped off its pine twig and went rolling. Sloan knelt behind the Christmas tree to look for it. “Darn, I think it went under the bookcase,” she said to Chase.

Bending low, she slid a hand under it but found a dust-bunny instead of the missing ornament.

The front door opened and Laredo called out, “Anybody home?” as he came in.

“In here,” Chase replied.

Laredo's long stride carried him to the living room, and he spotted Chase. “Just the man I'm looking for—” He broke off in surprise when Sloan scrambled to her feet, brushing her hands on her jeans. “Hello, Sloan.”

“What do you need?” Chase asked.

Laredo's glance lingered on Sloan. “Just wanted a word with you. Nothing important.” He half turned. “I'll catch you later.”

Sloan had the definite impression that her presence was the cause of his sudden change of plans. “Don't leave on account of me. I still have a bunch of gifts upstairs that need to be wrapped, believe it or not. You two go have your talk.”

She followed through on that tactful exit line by crossing to the staircase, leaving the pair alone. Laredo tracked her progress while Chase took the opportunity to study him in silence. The other man's impassive expression didn't tell him much. But Chase was well aware that if Laredo wanted to speak to him in private, it had to be about something serious.

“Let's go in the den,” he suggested. Laredo walked behind him for the short distance, slowing his steps to match Chase's, until the older man reached his desk and settled into his seat. “Close the door.”

Laredo did, then turned back, his mouth set in a hard line as he met Chase's probing glance.

“So what's the problem?”

Laredo didn't immediately answer. Instead he went to a front window and looked out. “I'm not sure. But I may have to leave here. If I do, this is about as much notice as I can give you.”

“Why?”

He swung away from the window, but kept to the side of it. “Last night a friend sent me a warning that my name's become a topic of discussion—in places where it hasn't been mentioned in years.”

“Who told you that?”

“No one you know. Jessy doesn't know about this, and I'd prefer that she didn't.”

Chase's gaze was steady. “She won't hear a word of it from me.” He paused for a beat. “Laredo, I won't argue. You may have good reason to be leery. But the Triple C is the safest place you can be.”

Laredo didn't seem convinced.

“It may be wise for you to drop out of sight, but you can do that here. No one on this ranch will ever tell anyone where you are.”

“Still…” He didn't finish the sentence.

“Ever try to search a million acres for someone? That's how big this ranch is,” Chase reminded him.

“I know that. But I'd just as soon not put any of you in that position.”

“That's not your choice to make,” Chase stated. “Let's play it on the safe side for the time being, and arrange for you to stay away from headquarters for a while.”

Laredo gave an uncomfortable shrug. “Jessy will want to know why.”

“I'll handle Jessy.”

“How?”

“Easy,” Chase replied. “I'll simply explain that you're taking care of some personal business for me. She may wonder, but she won't question that.”

“It might work,” Laredo conceded.

“Of course it will. Now—we need to figure out the best spot on the ranch for you to lie low. You can't go back to the Boar's Nest. Too many people know that's your bachelor quarters.”

Laredo thought a moment. “What about Wolf Meadow? I could stay at Buck Haskell's old place there.”

Chase shook his head. “Too hard for me to reach you if I need to. The Shamrock ranch will work better.”

“O'Rourke's old place?” Laredo asked. “What kind of shape is the house in?”

“Can't be any worse than the Boar's Nest,” Chase pointed out. “And like your place, it can't be seen from the road. Trey was over there last fall and fired up the generator to make sure it was still in working order.”

Laredo nodded in approval. “Sounds good. I'll grab some clothes and supplies and head that way.”

He turned to leave but Chase stopped him with an upraised hand. “If I need to get in touch with you, I'll send Trey and only Trey. If anyone else shows up, you'll know they aren't from me.”

“Thanks, Chase.” Laredo put a lot into those two simple words.

Chase waved off the expression of gratitude. “You've had my back more times than I care to count. It's time I covered yours. With any luck, this will all blow over before Christmas.”

“Let's hope so.” Laredo walked out.

 

When lunchtime came, Chase made sure he was the first one to take a seat at the table. Jessy was among the last to arrive, walking in as Cat placed the last of the food dishes on the surface. She halted in the doorway and made a quick scan of the faces at the tabletop.

“Has anyone seen Laredo?” she asked. “I thought he'd probably beaten me here.”

Quick to play on the excuse of his advanced age, Chase feigned a frown of both surprise and apology. “Did I forget to tell you Laredo's going to be gone for a while?”

“Gone?” Jessy repeated in astonishment. “Where?”

“That's my business.” Chase shook out his napkin and laid it across his lap.

Hands on her hips, Cat gave him a reproving look. “Dad, don't tell me you've conned Laredo into doing some Christmas shopping for you? First Quint and—”

Chase cut her off. “Just never you mind about what he's doing or why. This isn't the time of the year to be getting nosy and asking a lot of questions.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he observed the way Jessy visibly relaxed at hearing his response. At the moment, he knew she was satisfied there was nothing wrong.

“How long will he be gone?” Jessy walked over to her customary chair at the table and pulled it out.

“Does it matter?” Chase countered.

“Not really,” she said with unconcern. “I was just wondering if I'd have time to get that hot tub installed before he gets back.”

“What hot tub?” Chase frowned.

“The one he wants for Christmas,” Jessy replied.

“That should work out perfectly for you then,” Chase said, “because I don't expect him back at the ranch until right before Christmas.”

“He'll be gone that long?” Jessy glanced at him in surprise.

“You make it sound like forever,” he chided lightly. “Christmas is only a couple of weeks away.”

“Is 'Redo going to buy me a present?” Jake asked eagerly.

“Should he?” Chase turned the question back on him. “Are you buying him one?”

Gripped by uncertainty, Jake turned to his mother. “Are we, Mom?”

The question drew soft laughter and diverted the conversation away from any further discussion of Laredo's absence. Which was exactly what Chase wanted.

 

The one-hundred-plus-year-old barn was a hive of activity, undergoing its annual transformation into a site worthy of a Christmas gathering. Those ranch hands assigned to tasks were on tall ladders hanging red and green crepe paper from the rafters while wives and older members of their families adorned the stalls with evergreen garlands and holiday wreaths.

Sloan stood at the base of one ladder, holding it steady while high above her Tank Willis twisted red and green crepe paper together to form a double garland, then held one section of it to the rafter.

“Thank God for staple guns,” Sloan declared.

He grinned at her. “That's how the West was won. Of course, back then it was barbed wire that was getting fastened to a post.” He picked up his gun from the small tool shelf on the ladder and pressed it against the end of a garland, banging staples loudly into the rafter.

Startled by the sudden, explosive sound, Cat jerked her head up, realized what made it, and muttered to herself, “Noisy things.”

“How's the wall decorations coming?” someone hurrying by asked.

“Just fine,” she said to the woman's back and returned to sorting through boxes, trying to find all the pieces to a pin-the-nose-on-the-reindeer game.

Bright sunlight briefly flooded the wide central alley when its big door was swung open. Cat looked up to see who entered, hoping it was Wade. But it was one of the ranch hands carting another box. She took a moment to survey the progress that had been made. For the most part they seemed to be on schedule.

Food that didn't need refrigerating, mostly sweets, was already set out on a long table, protected by plastic wrap. There were several platters filled with gingerbread cowboys and sugar-cookie cowgirls, their shirts and jeans outlined in colored icing with silver dragees for the snaps. Cat suspected they were the handiwork of Kelly Taylor. But whoever made them, they looked too good to eat.

In the stage area, the children were rehearsing the play in their everyday clothes, working off energy by teasing each other and dashing around the platform. Babette Nevins, who was in charge, looked to be having a tough time of it.

Cat thought about lending a hand, but she wasn't sorry when Sloan came toward her with beaded garland draped in layers over her arm.

“Cat, these will need to go on the tree first. Can you help me loop them around? I don't think I can manage it by myself.”

“Sure.” Cat quickly closed the flaps of the big box at her feet. “Look at those gorgeous colors.”

“Purple and gold.” Sloan laughed. “Not very traditional, but I guess we have enough red and green around here. The little girls will love them though.”