Chapter 15
“YOU NERVOUS?” CLINT squeezed her hand as they lurched over the icy road on their way to his family’s ranch.
“No,” Lila said. “Yes. But no. Really no. Your mother was as sweet as could be. This is an amazing treat for me.” She smiled at him. “What about you? Are you nervous?”
“Damn straight, I am.”
She laughed. “Why?”
“You don’t know my mom. She’s liable to make this into a big to-do. You’d think it’s Christmas come early.”
“Wow, that’ll make the evening even better. Erin thinks I’m nuts around the holidays. I usually start decorating the day after Thanksgiving, and I don’t stop singing carols until after New Year’s.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason she thinks you’re nuts?”
“Hey!” Lila let go of his hand so she could punch his arm. “You’re really asking for trouble, you know that?”
“Yeah, well...” Clint took her hand in his again. “I knew I was in trouble the moment I met you.”
“Huh.” She leaned back to look at him. “Should I ask?”
He cleared his throat and muttered, “Probably not.”
She sighed, grateful for the ease between them, memorizing the feel of his hand swallowing hers, the slight smile she could see half of, the warmth of the truck against the cold of the wind and the intermittent snow flurries.
When it felt like too much, Lila looked in the small backseat at her bag of treats. Yesterday she’d received her mom’s care package filled with all the fixings for their traditional spiced Christmas tea along with some other goodies.
Lila had been delighted at first, but then the truth behind the gesture had sunk in. Her mom had given up hope that Lila could make it home for Christmas. She had to stop thinking about that or she’d be a complete mess.
To make herself feel better, she’d stayed up ungodly late making a big batch of her famous Rocky Road bark, using the microwave in the production trailer.
“I probably should have brought wine,” she said.
“Would you stop? When Mom heard you were bringing stuff for your family’s traditional tea, she was very excited. Have I mentioned she’s more nuts than you about the holidays?”
“She couldn’t be.”
“Oh, no? Take a look at the gate.”
Lila had been so busy staring at Clint she hadn’t realized they’d reached the ranch.
The gate was large enough for two semitrucks to pass when opened, and it looked like it was made from the pine trees that lined the roads and filled the forests.
Hanging at the center was a breathtaking wreath, dotted with holly berries, dusted pinecones and a huge red velvet bow.
“Oh, I think I’m going to fit right in,” she said with relief. “And you’re sure it’s just casual?”
“Lila. You’re wearing a skirt, which by itself defies the word casual at our house. Not that I don’t appreciate it,” he said, eyeing her legs. “A lot.”
Grinning, she bumped his shoulder. She hadn’t dressed up too much.
To go with the pencil skirt she’d chosen a simple cream-colored blouse with a cardigan that was festive but wouldn’t be too hot in the kitchen.
She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail, just like she would have if she’d been at home.
“Look, we don’t have to stay late. We can be back at the motel by ten if we don’t linger over the meal.”
“Good grief, we just got here. And lingering is the whole point. That and hearing embarrassing stories about you when you were a kid.”
“Fat chance. I’ve warned everyone to keep their stories to themselves.” He put the truck in Park and jumped out to open the big gate. She thought about getting behind the wheel to save him a step, but she wanted to be able to look around.
The long driveway led to a large house at the top of the rise. It was really attractive, a mix of ranch-style and Alpine, with a peaked roof atop the biggest section. And the best part—the whole exterior was decorated to the gills.
Lila took in the lights, the wreath on the door, the garlands around the porch railing and the two big rocking chairs. One thing she didn’t have at home was the light dusting of real snow instead of movie-magic Snowcel, which made the whole place look like a gingerbread house. It was magical.
Clint parked the truck next to three others. As she slipped on her jacket, she noticed a barn, a couple of corrals, another big building that was probably a bunkhouse, given the smoke coming out of the chimney. The lowing of cattle chased the wind from the valley floor.
Clint carried her bag of goodies as they took the stone walkway to the front door. He touched her lower back, and she glanced at him. “Who were you waving at?” She turned to see, but caught only a glimpse of two cowboys standing outside the barn before Clint blocked her view.
“I wasn’t waving,” he said in a wry voice. “It’s just some of the guys from the bunkhouse. Keep going.”
Now, she really wanted to see who he’d flipped off, but the front door swung open before they even reached it.
There was Mr. Landers, it had to be, because he looked like the mold his son was cast from. His salt-and-pepper hair gave her a hint as to what Clint would look like as he got older. Of course he’d be just as striking.
“Welcome, Ms. Loveridge, to our humble home.”
“It’s Lila, and I’m so happy to be here.”
“I’m Doug, Clint’s dad, but I reckon you knew that.”
Lila grinned. “Well, he does have your good looks.”
The older man flushed and laughed.
“There you are,” Mrs. Landers said, wiping her hands on a white towel attached to a Santa apron. “Nathan and Beth are already here, and Seth should arrive soon. So come on in, and let’s get you two defrosted.”
Her jacket was whisked away. The scent of roast beef and fresh rolls made her mouth water.
The interior of the house—much more expansive than she’d expected with its high roof and fireplace in the living room—was filled with older, overstuffed chairs, pictures of horses and boys at all stages, trophies and ribbons, studio shots on the walls, and a leather couch that looked as if it had seen a couple of generations grow up.
Another Landers man joined them. He had to be Nathan and the beautiful tall blonde who followed, his wife, Beth. Introductions took less than a minute, they chatted for a few more, then Doug, Nathan and Beth excused themselves because Mrs. Landers had assigned them all duties.
Clint seemed pleased that he’d gotten off scot-free so he could show her around.
Lila would bet anything he’d be stuck with cleanup.
She decided not to burst his bubble as he ushered her into a family room with another fireplace, and a ridiculously perfect Christmas tree standing near a large window.
The view was so quintessential it looked like a painted backdrop.
“It’s wonderful,” she said, taking Clint’s hand. Some of the cute Christmas ornaments looked handmade. “Better than I even imagined.”
“The house was originally built by my great-grandfather,” he said, “then extended by my grandad and Dad. It’s a real ranch home with enough room to house half a dozen hands, and enough supplies to last a Montana winter.”
“Well, I can see it’s a real hardship for you to live here.”
He leaned in and surprised her with a kiss on the lips. Without even looking to see if anyone was watching. He kept it brief and G-rated, which was more than fine with her. Even so she sneaked a peek behind them.
He smiled and nodded at the window. “It’s getting dark, but you can still see we have a great view of the Rockies.”
“The house you want to build, would it be near here?” she asked and saw him stiffen. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t—I won’t bring it up again.”
“No,” he said, shrugging. “It’s fine.” He turned back to the window. “It’s not a secret. I’m just having trouble deciding between two spots, but yeah, it’ll be about a mile or so north.”
“Darn, I wish we had more daylight.”
“I can always bring you back out...” He met her gaze. “If you have time.”
Something was making her tongue stick. Looking into his eyes often made her heart flutter. But this was different...
“Come on,” he said with a small resigned smile that she hoped was her imagination. “I’ll show you my mother’s pride and joy.”
A few more surprises met her in the kitchen. Double ovens and a six-burner stove, an island big enough for four people to work at. Laughter floated in from another room. This house, the holiday songs coming from the family room, the scents, the décor, it was all a bit overwhelming.
She had to blink back tears as she thought of her family’s much smaller home in LA where her mom and dad and Brit had the tree up. Her brother was married and had his own home, but he and Cheryl lived close and would spend Christmas at the house.
“Hey,” Clint said, his big hand landing softly on her shoulder. “You okay?”
“Just missing my family.”
“I wish there was something I could have done about that.”
“You have. Believe me. I’m fine.”
“Then get in there and make that spiced tea you told me about. I want to try it. I’m sure my mom will be back in a second.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, taking the bag with her to the island.
First thing she brought out was the Rocky Road bark, made with semisweet chocolate, mini-marshmallows, slivered almonds and little pieces of peppermint stick and toffee.
The tray was just a cookie sheet covered with tinfoil, but she hadn’t had much to work with.
As soon as she uncovered it, Mrs. Landers, who insisted Lila call her Meryl, joined her at the island. “Oh, my. Doesn’t that look sinfully delicious?”
Coming up behind Clint’s mom, Beth let out a moan that made Lila blush. “What’s this called? Better than Sex?”
“Oh, Beth.” Laughing, Meryl swatted at her daughter-in-law as she reached for a piece.
Beth took a bite. “Oh, yeah,” she murmured, eyes closed.
They all laughed, and it helped Lila relax. The three men flowed through the kitchen, snatching pieces of her bark as they got water and wine glasses to put on the dining-room table.