A Very Maverick Christmas. Rachel Lee
he laughed.
“There is that,” he agreed. “And the fact that I was careless more than once. I ought to know better.”
“I hope they were old shirts.”
“On their last legs. Are you thinking about decorating for Christmas? I could help you get a tree to your place.”
She blinked. A man whose own brothers claimed he was a recluse was offering to help her get a tree and bring it to her cabin? Then it struck her they might have been joking. “You and your brothers joke a lot.”
Surprise widened his dark eyes a bit, then he laughed again as he apparently caught her reference. “Oh, you mean what Dallas said about me being a recluse. Yeah, we joke a lot. The teasing is merciless. That’s the only thing I don’t mind about them all being at their own places now. It’s so dang peaceful.”
She felt a smile begin to dawn on her own face. “Things can be too peaceful.”
“Well, sometimes, but they come back often enough to keep me on my toes. I think they’ll all calm down when they have their own little Noelles.”
“That’s your niece? She’s so cute.”
“I think so, but I’m biased. Well, let me know if you need help with anything. I’m going to be in town for a few hours.” He started to turn away then paused. “Are you coming to the church to help with gift wrapping for the troops?”
“I’ve already promised Vanessa I will.”
“Great. See you there.” Then he paused again. “Unless you’d like to get some coffee when you’re done here?”
The invitation completely startled her. She’d been asked out a few times since she arrived here and had turned down all the offers. But it felt different to be casually asked for coffee. Part of her wanted to flee, because it was so tiring to conceal all the gaps in her memory, but another part of her wanted to keep looking at him, listening to him.
Becoming a hermit, she told herself sternly, wasn’t going to do the least thing to solve her problem. In fact, it might hinder her.
“I’d love coffee,” she answered, hoping her hesitation hadn’t been too noticeable.
“Great!” His smile widened again. “How long do you need?”
“Well, I have to pick out...” She stopped herself. Delaying tactics weren’t going to help anything. “I need to grab some groceries. Nothing that won’t keep in the car for a while. Twenty minutes?”
“Twenty minutes. Just enough time for me to pick and pay for my shirts. See you at checkout.”
She envied him his easiness, his ability to seem comfortable in his own skin. She often hoped she didn’t look as skittish and frightened as she sometimes felt.
On impulse, she grabbed the electric-blue throw and a couple of red, glittery Christmas pillows, both with angels on them. Cost be hanged, she thought as she headed over to the groceries. Color seemed imperative now, and it was apt to get more so as the winter deepened and darkened.
* * *
Coffee with the mystery lady, Braden thought, feeling as if he’d just made a huge leap. Of course, if anyone saw him having coffee with Julie Smith, the teasing was going to go through the roof.
Oh, well. He was used to it. Being the last Traub bachelor in town had not only increased the teasing, but had taught him that he seemed to be under some kind of local microscope, too. All the women who had come into town in a veritable wave looking for husbands had added to the local curiosity about a guy who seemed impervious to all those wiles.
He could just imagine what some folk suspected, although he didn’t really care. When the right woman came along, well... It was as his mother had once said, “Dating is a series of no, no, no until you finally get to yes.” Well, he’d had a few nos, enough to realize that dating could be a huge investment. Better to be picky before you really got started.
He pulled four plain Western shirts off the rack, glad that he hadn’t given in to a whim to go to Kalispell for a few hours. All he’d wanted were work shirts, and now he was going to have coffee with Julie Smith. His curiosity quickened again. At the very least he wanted to know why such a beautiful young woman seemed to hang back in some very noticeable ways.
Sort of like him, he thought humorously. Maybe she had some bad romances in her past.
“Stocking up again,” said Nina as she checked him out. “You’re hard on shirts, Braden Traub. Dallas takes better care than you do.”
“Blame it on the barbed wire.”
Nina rolled her eyes. Once his shirts were in a paper bag, he saw Julie approaching with a cart that contained two red throw pillows, the electric-blue blanket she’d been admiring, and some packaged chicken breasts, frozen vegetables and a couple of potatoes.
Bachelor fare, he thought as he stood back and waited. And given how cold it was outside, sunshine notwithstanding, if she put everything in her trunk, it would probably freeze before she got home.
Assuming he could keep her from bolting before she’d spent ten minutes with him.
God, she was pretty. Each time he looked at her, he felt it anew. And it wasn’t just those big blue eyes, blond hair or figure. It was an aura of, well, innocence. She reminded him of a lamb exploring the world for the first time, trying bravely and then showing huge timidity at something startlingly new. But she had to be somewhere in her early twenties, and that didn’t seem to fit with the whole innocence thing. More innocent than he was, certainly, but not a child.
He hoped he’d find out something about her. If he could quiet his curiosity, maybe he wouldn’t feel so drawn to her, and he could safely escape another entanglement doomed for failure.
He offered to help with her bags, although he was sure she could have carried them herself. Manners had been ingrained at an early age. A kind of old-fashioned chivalry, judging by much of what he saw of the world today. He had no doubt, however, that Nina would report back to Dallas, and he’d take another round of ribbing. Sometimes this town could be too small.
She blushed, but let him take a couple of the bags and carry them to her car. Then she lowered the boom he’d half expected.
“I should get this food home and into a refrigerator.”
Braden didn’t often give anyone a hard time, but some stubbornness reared in him. “It’s freezing out here. You put the chicken and frozen vegetables in your trunk, and it’ll stay colder than it would in your fridge while we have coffee. Not the potatoes, though. Don’t want them to freeze.”
In the bright morning sunlight, with the air as clear as fresh-washed glass, she looked even prettier. He saw emotions chase across her face, and she bit her lip.
“It’s just coffee,” he said gently.
“Just coffee,” she repeated. Then, at long last, “Okay.”
“Let’s go to Daisy’s donut shop on North Broomtail,” he prodded gently. “You can bring your own car and run as soon as you need to.”
Her face darkened in a way that told him he’d said exactly the wrong thing, but then, making an effort, she smoothed it over. “Sure. I’ll see you there.”
Wondering if she’d even show up, he went over to his mud-splashed truck, climbed in and left it to her to follow. He wasn’t going to force himself on any woman, even for a chance to talk.
* * *
After Braden drove off, Julie dithered in her car for a few minutes, letting it warm up. Well, that was her excuse anyway. Braden appealed to her, undeniably. She felt a jolt of sexual awareness every time she saw him. But was that enough to take this kind of risk?
What did she have to talk to him about? Her few months here in Rust Creek? His family, whom she did not really know?