Christmas in Cold Creek. RaeAnne Thayne
When Gabi nodded he slanted a look at Becca. She shrugged. Christmas tree positioning wasnât exactly in her skill set. Right along with waiting tables and trying to raise a precocious nine-year-old girl.
âGabrielle, would you mind going back out onto porch for the tree stand I left there?â he asked. âI donât want to move from the perfect spot.â
She hurried out eagerly and returned shortly with the green metal tree stand.
âOkay, Iâm going to lift the tree and you set the stand with the hole right underneath the trunk. Got it?â
She nodded solemnly. When Trace effortlessly lifted the tree, she slid the stand where he indicated. Becca couldnât help but compare her eagerness to help Trace with the tree to her grave reluctance a few moments earlier to finish four measly math problems.
For the next few moments, Trace held the tree and instructed Gabi to tighten the bolts of the stand around the trunk in a particular order for the best stability.
Becca watched their efforts with a growing amusement that surprised her. She shouldnât be enjoying this. This was the police chief, she reminded herself, but it was hard to remember that when he was laughing with Gabi about the tree that seemed determined to list drunkenly to the side.
âIâm beginning to see why people prefer artificial trees.â
âOh, blasphemy!â He aimed a mock frown in her direction. âWhat about that heavenly smell?â
âA ninety-nine-cent car air freshener can give you the same thing without the sap and the needles all over the carpet.â
He shook his head with a rueful smile but didnât argue and she was painfully aware of the highly inconvenient little simmer of attraction. He was an extraordinarily good-looking man, with those startling green eyes and a hint of afternoon shadow along his jawline. Avoiding him would be far easier if the dratted man didnât stir up all kinds of ridiculous feelings.
âIâll clean up the needles, I promise.â
To Beccaâs surprise, Gabrielle seemed to glow with excitement. She was such a funny kid. Becca was no closer to figuring out this curious little stranger than she was two months ago when Monica had dumped her in her lap.
âOkay, moment of truth.â Trace stepped back to look at his handiwork. âDoes that look straight to you two?â
Gabrielle moved toward Becca for a better perspective and cocked her head to the side. âIt looks great to me. What about you, Beâum, Mom?â
Gabi stumbled only slightly over the word but it was still a surprising mistake. Her sister was remarkably adept at deception. No surprise there since sheâd been bottle-fed it since birth. Becca glanced at the police chief but he didnât seem to have noticed anything amiss and she spoke quickly to distract him.
âLooks straight to me, too.â
âI think youâre both right. It is straight. Amazing! That didnât take long at all. Youâve got some serious tree setup skills, young lady.â
Much to Beccaâs astonishment, her sister giggled. Actually giggled. Gabrielle blinked a little, clearly surprised at the sound herself.
âNow what are we going to decorate it with?â the girl asked.
âIâve got a couple strings of lights out in the truck. We can start with that.â
âI can probably find something around here,â Becca said quickly. âIf not, I can pick some up tomorrow.â
She didnât want him here. It was too dangerous. The more time they spent with the police chief, the greater the chance that either she or Gabi would slip again and he would figure out things werenât quite as they seemed. She had the distinct impression he was suspicious enough of them and she didnât want to raise any more red flags.
Her unwilling attraction to him only further complicated the situation. She just wanted him to leave so she could go back to duct-taping her life back together.
âIâve already got the lights out in my truck. Why go to so much trouble of tracking down more?â
âYouâve already done more than enough.â
âHereâs something good to know about me.â Trace grinned. âIâm the kind of guy who likes to see things through.â
For an insane instant, she imagined just how he would kiss a womanâwith thorough, meticulous intensity. Those green eyes would turn to smoke as he took great care to explore and taste every inch of her mouth with his until she was soft and pliant and ready to throw every caution out the window⦠.
She blinked away the entirely too appealing image to find Trace watching her. His eyes werenât smoky now, only curious, as if wondering what she was thinking. Heat rushed to her cheeks with her blush, something she hadnât done in a long time. He wouldnât be talked out of helping them decorate the tree. Somehow she knew she was stuck in this untenable situation and continuing to protest would only make him wonder why she was so ardently determined to avoid his company.
Gabi was obviously pleased to have him here and it seemed churlish of Becca to make a deal about it. How long would it take to decorate a tree, anyway?
âThank you, then. I think I saw a box of old ornaments up in the attic in my ⦠my grandfatherâs things.â
âGreat. I guess weâre in business.â He headed for the door and returned a moment later with a box that had Extra Christmas Lights written on it with black permanent marker in what looked like a womanâs handwriting. He didnât have a wife, she knew, so who had written those words? Maybe he had an ex or a steady girlfriend. Not that it was any of her business who might be writing on his boxes, she reminded herself.
He immediately started untangling the light strings and she watched long, well-formed fingers move nimbly for a moment then jerked her attention away when she realized she was staring.
âGabi, come help me look for the ornaments.â
Reluctance flitted across the girlâs features as if she didnât want to leave Trace Bowmanâs presence, either, but she followed Becca up the narrow stairs to the cramped storage space under the eaves adjacent to the room Gabi had claimed as her own bedroom.
The space smelled musty and dusty and was piled with boxes and trunks Becca had barely had time to even look at in the few weeks theyâd been in Pine Gulch. She pulled the string on the bare-bulb light and could swear she heard something scurry. They needed a cat, she thought. She didnât want to add one more responsibility to her plate but a good mouser would be just the thing.
âI think I saw the ornaments somewhere over by the window. Help me look, would you?â
She and Gabi began sorting through boxes filled with the detritus of a lonely old manâs life. It made her inexpressibly sad to think about the grandfather she hadnât even known existed. Monica had told her very little about the paternal side of her heritage. She had known her father had died when she was just a baby and Monica had told her she didnât have any other living relatives on either side.
Big surprise. Sheâd lied. This was just one more thing her mother had stolen from her.
âHeâs nice, isnât he?â
She glanced at Gabi, who was looking toward the doorway and the stairs with a pensive sort of look.
âHeâs the police chief, Gab. You know what that means.â
âWe havenât done anything wrong here.â
âExcept tell the world