Santa In Montana (14 page)

“I'm not so sure.” Cat laughed. “You've never put one in the ragbag for as long as I've known you.”

“Why would I? Takes time to break in a shirt just right.”

“Of course,” Cat said in dry disbelief.

“Do you recognize the woman's name?” Sloan wondered.

Chase peered at the embroidery and shook his head. “No, but a lot of people lived on the Triple C over the years.” Sloan began folding the quilt back up. “I like your idea to use them as backdrops for photos,” Chase told her. “Especially since everyone will be here this Christmas.” He paused and added, “Who knows when that will happen again?”

“Oh, Dad…” Cat didn't finish, a lump closing off the words in her throat.

Both women knew what was left unspoken: the fact that Chase himself might not be around for many more holidays.

“Tell you what,” Sloan said quickly, breaking the awkward silence to address Chase. “As the patriarch, you deserve a photo with every member of the family, one by one, with a different quilt in the background for each. Plus one or two of you alone.”

Chase snorted. “The patriarch? Me? Guess I better grow a long white beard and exchange this damned cane for a shepherd's crook.”

Jessy had to smile.

Her father-in-law had a twinkle in his eyes as he nodded his agreement, resting a gnarled hand on the quilt Sloan had just folded up. “Use this one for me. It's plain. No fancy stuff.”

“You got it.”

With Christmas only four days away, the countdown had begun. The youngsters were a bundle of eagerness. As far as they were concerned, the time couldn't pass fast enough. For those who hadn't finished their shopping, the holiday was approaching way too quickly. But everywhere, smiles abounded, marked by a certain cheeriness that made the season so merry.

Nowhere was it so apparent than at the Homestead, where Cat was busy, with the help of two teenaged girls on their winter break from school, getting the extra bedrooms cleaned and ready for the arriving members of the Calder family. To carry the Christmas spirit a step further, Cat added a holiday candle wreathed with holly to each room, along with childhood pictures of Laura and Quint taken at Christmas time, to their assigned rooms.

After placing a framed photo of Quint on a dresser, she stepped back to assess the dresser top arrangement. Anne Trumbo stuck her head out of the room's adjoining bath.

“Miss Cat, there isn't an extra set of bath towels in here.”

“There's some in the laundry room downstairs,” Cat remembered. “I'll go get them while you and Sarah finish up here.”

When she reached the top of the stairs, she heard the familiar strains of “Jingle Bells” coming from the den and guessed that her father had the radio on. As she started down the steps, she automatically began humming along with the song.

From the den came a slightly flat baritone voice singing, “Bells on bobtails ring, making spirits bright.”

Chase was singing! The towels could wait. This she had to see.

She ran lightly the rest of the way down the steps and crossed to the room's open doorway. There was Chase standing at the fireplace, singing away, one hand braced on the head of his cane while he jabbed at the burning logs with a poker.

Cat waited until the final notes of the song died away before speaking. “You're definitely in the holiday mood, Dad.”

With the cane for a pivot point he half-turned in surprise, then flashed a smile, eyes twinkling. “And why wouldn't I be? It's nearly Christmas.” He returned the poker to its stand. “And a good one it's going to be, too.”

Cat smiled in agreement. “It is going to be good to have both Quint and Laura home for Christmas this year. Usually only one or the other can make it.”

“Indeed it will be.” He hobbled back to his chair behind the desk. “Do you have the rooms ready for them yet?”

“Almost. I was just on my way to the laundry room to fetch an extra set of towels for Quint and Dallas's bath.”

“Better get an extra room ready,” he told her.

“Why? Who's coming?”

“I just spoke to Wade a bit ago. He should be here on the twenty-third. The twenty-fourth at the latest. It's liable to be late in the afternoon when he gets here, so I told him to plan on spending the night with us.” The twinkle in his eyes grew more pronounced. “I didn't think you'd object to an extra guest, considering that I noticed there was a present under the tree with his name on it.”

Cat refused to be self-conscious about it. “You know when I bought that gift for him, I was concerned that I might be presuming too much. Now I'm so glad that I did it, even if it is just a little something.” She paused, then asked, “Do you know what I—”

“Quiet.” He almost barked the word and swiveled his chair to reach for the volume knob on the radio. Cat had been only vaguely aware of the disc jockeys talking in the background, but her father clearly had one ear tuned to their conversation.

“—being an old Grinch. Everyone wants a white Christmas,” one of them declared.

“A white Christmas would be fine, but a winter storm warning scheduled to blow into eastern Montana by the twenty-fourth! Who wants that?”

“Santa will have some dicey flying conditions, won't he?”

There was more, but Chase snapped the radio off. “We need to call Quint and Laura so they can make sure to get here before the storm does.”

“I'll call Quint on my cell while you ring Laura.” Cat started out of the room.

Chase called after her. “While you're at it, find Trey. Tell him that I need to see him.”

Within an hour both Quint and Laura had been alerted to the forecasted winter storm predicted for Christmas Eve. Both had already begun adjusting their schedules to arrive at the Triple C ahead of it. Twenty minutes later, Trey walked into the den.

“Cat sent a message that you needed to see me.”

“Yes.” A movement beyond the doorway drew Chase's glance as one of the teenaged girls walked by. “Close the doors.”

Trey made a rapid scan of his grandfather's expression, realizing this must be something important, and trying to gauge the seriousness of it. As always, Chase's expression was difficult to read. He closed the doors and crossed to one of the wingbacked chairs.

“Laredo's over at the Shamrock ranch,” Chase announced.

Trey drew his head back in surprise. “The Shamrock. What's he doing there?”

“Hiding out. I told him when it was safe for him to come back, I'd send—only you. Go tell him to come home.”

“Will do.” Trey didn't bother to ask for any explanations. Like others, he knew Laredo's past didn't bear close scrutiny. If Laredo had needed a place to lie low, then he'd had his reasons, and it wasn't important for Trey to know what they were.

“If anyone should ask—and I mean anyone—don't tell them where you're going or why,” Chase instructed.

“No problem,” Trey assured him.

“Have you heard the forecast?” Chase asked. Trey walked to the door.

He paused in front of the doors. “We're already checking to make sure each camp has extra hay on hand and hauling round bales to all the isolated pastures. After that, we'll just have to wait to see how strong the winds are and whether the cattle start drifting with them.”

In short, all was being done that could be done.

 

A half hour before dinner that night, Trey returned to the Homestead followed by Laredo. Jessy's face lit up when she saw him.

“You're back.” She smiled up at Laredo, automatically fitting herself to his side.

“Miss me?”

“Only every day,” Jessy admitted with her usual candor.

Chase emerged from the den and saw the two together. “Don't be asking any questions about where's he been, Jessy. For now, that's a secret between Laredo and me.”

She laughed. “I won't. Unlike some, I like being surprised on Christmas.”

“Good.” Chase nodded and continued on his way to the dining room.

Jessy and Laredo followed at a much slower pace. “Have you already been to the Boar's Nest?” she wondered.

“Didn't have time, though it would have been nice to clean up and get a change of clothes.”

“We can both go after dinner. I have a surprise to show you,” Jessy told him, aware the Christmas hot tub was something he was bound to notice as soon as he got there.

“A surprise, huh?” There was a knowing gleam in his blue eyes. “It wouldn't happen to be—”

She pressed two fingers to his mouth, stopping him from finishing his sentence. “No questions from you either.”

He grinned. “Fair enough.”

 

By mid-morning on the twenty-fourth, the skies had already turned a sullen gray, but it was the ominous bank of dark clouds to the northeast that foretold the storm's approach. For the time being the air was still, barely a breath of wind, but Trey wasn't fooled by that. The northeast was the home to what the Sioux Indians called the White Wolf—a howling Arctic blizzard.

Hands thrust deep in the pockets of his sheepskin-lined parka, Trey stood at the window of the office area sectioned off the airstrip's main hangar and watched the sky. Behind him the radio crackled.

“Five miles out on final approach.”

Trey spotted the twin-engine cargo plane seconds later, making its descent. Later came the low drone of its engines. Not until its wheels touched down on the ranch's private airstrip did Trey leave the relative warmth of the hangar office.

The plane taxied to a stop on the apron area not far from where Trey waited. By the time Gus Hanson got the chocks tucked behind the wheels, the plane's door swung open, and its flight of steps was lowered. Trey moved forward when Quint ducked through the opening, carrying his young son all bundled in a hooded parka and bulky mittens.

One glimpse of his cousin's high, hard cheekbones and glistening black hair that spoke of his Sioux ancestry and Trey broke into a wide smile. “Welcome home, Quint.” He caught hold of Quint's hand and clamped his own onto Quint's shoulder, in what served as a man-hug. “How was the flight?”

“Not bad.”

“Well, I've certainly been on smoother ones,” Dallas declared, emerging from the plane, the shiny copper color of her hair sharply contrasted by the dull gray of the fuselage.

Quint turned to offer her a steadying hand while she negotiated the steps. Her grandfather Empty Garner stood framed in the opening behind her, waiting his turn.

“I thought we were on a rodeo. 'Course it might be cause we had such a noisy passenger.”

“Had some turbulence,” Trey guessed as he gave Dallas a quick hug of greeting.

“It wasn't that bad,” Quint insisted. “Especially when you consider that cargo planes aren't exactly famous for giving smooth rides.”

“I'd ask why you chose it, but I suspect the reason is somehow connected to your request that I have a pickup and stock trailer waiting for you at the hangar area.” Trey hooked a thumb in the direction of the vehicle parked next to his SUV. “Something tells me you didn't ask for it just to haul your luggage and Christmas presents.”

“Yes and no,” Quint said, being deliberately evasive. “Actually I need it for one special present that I'm delivering at Chase's request.”

Trey raised an eyebrow. “What in God's name did he ask you to buy?”

Quint only laughed. “Considering it's for Jake, maybe it's better if you don't know yet.”

Gus stepped out of the hangar office and called to Trey. “Laura's pilot just radioed in, asking for landing instructions. Can't be more than ten minutes out.”

“Ten minutes.” Trey threw a questioning look at Quint. “Do you think we have enough time to get you loaded and dropped off at the Homestead and back up here before her plane lands? If not, I'll have to cram her and Sebastian in the pickup. Which won't exactly thrill my sister.”

“She's a Calder. She'll get over it. Still, we might make it. We won't know until we try,” Quint replied and transferred his sleepy-eyed son to his wife. “Let's get our luggage loaded.”

Before Gus disappeared back inside the hangar, Trey waved to him. “Come give us a hand with the luggage.”

As Gus trotted over, Quint suggested, “You might have whoever is driving the pickup back the trailer up to the cargo door. There's a ramp with chutes inside that should reach.”

“A ramp? Just what are you hauling?”

“You'll find out after we get all the bags loaded.”

With both Empty Garner and Gus to help, they managed all the suitcases and multiple sacks of Christmas gifts in one trip. By the time they had it all loaded in the back of the SUV, the stock trailer was positioned at the plane's cargo door.

Empty climbed into the backseat to wait with Dallas and little Josh while Trey and Quint returned to the plane to unload Jake's Christmas present. Trey took one look at the brown and white speckled calf as it exploded out of its confining transport stall and careened down the chute into the trailer, bucking and bawling the whole way.

“He bought Jake a calf?” Trey turned a dumbfounded look on Quint. “The Triple C has hundreds of them. Why couldn't—”

“None of them are registered Longhorns,” Quint informed him, and before Trey could ask the next logical question, added, “Why a Longhorn? That's a question you'll have to take up with Gramps. In the meantime, you wait for Laura and I'll take Dallas and Empty to the house. See you in a bit.”

True to his word, Quint pulled up to the hangar area about the time the private jet streaked into view. He climbed out of the passenger seat and joined Trey on the tarmac.

“Good timing.”

“For all of us,” Quint said and jerked his head at the looming dark clouds. “The White Wolf is inching closer. Probably be here around mid-afternoon.”

Trey nodded agreement as the jet swooped onto the runway. The high whine of its engines grew to a roar as they were switched to reverse thrust, and the aircraft slowed. Soon it was taxiing toward them.

Even after the plane rolled to a stop and cut its engines, neither Trey nor Quint approached it until the passenger door opened. A sandy-haired Sebastian stepped out first, his long overcoat hanging open unbuttoned, a plaid scarf looped around his neck. He threw them a saluting wave and glided down the steps, then turned to wait for Laura. As if on cue, she appeared in the opening, wrapped in a full-length sable coat, a matching fur hat covering her blonde head, and paused a beat.

Trey murmured an amused aside to Quint, “My sister, she always likes to make a grand entrance. Married life hasn't changed that about her.”

Quint just smiled, fully aware that Trey could poke fun at his twin sibling, but nobody else had better. He stood to one side while the two exchanged an affectionate hug.

“It's good to have you home again, sis,” Trey said, and meant it, then teased, “Although that's some carriage your ladyship arrived in.”

“It is, isn't it?” she agreed, then declared with typical airiness, “But, since Tara chose to leave us all that money, I decided to take a page out of her book and charter a jet. Eliminate all that security and terminal nonsense you have to deal with when you fly commercial. It cuts a lot of travel time.”

“I imagine it does,” Trey conceded.