A Mistletoe Vow: A Cold Creek Christmas Story / Falling for Mr December / A Husband for the Holidays. RaeAnne Thayne
A Mistletoe Vow: A Cold Creek Christmas Story / Falling for Mr December / A Husband for the Holidays
She didn’t say anything for several long seconds, so long that he wasn’t sure she was going to answer him at all.
“It didn’t seem like a tough question,” he said mildly.
“For you, maybe,” she retorted. “You grew up in California with your mother after your parents divorced, and spent your summers here with Charlotte, right?”
How did she know that? he wondered. He only remembered meeting her a few times back when he would come to visit and didn’t remember ever sharing that information with her. Maybe Charlotte had told her.
He gave her a close look but she seemed lost in her own thoughts.
“That’s right,” he answered. “And you?”
“No one specific place,” she finally answered. “I lived all over the globe, if you want the truth. I was born in a hut in Ghana, and before I was eleven, I lived in about two dozen countries. My parents were missionaries who started health clinics in underserved places of the world. Before I came to Pine Gulch, we were living in Colombia.”
Some kind of vague, unsettling memory poked at him, a whisper he had once heard about Celeste and her sisters. Something to do with a kidnapping, with her parents.
He couldn’t put his finger on the details. What was it? Was that the reason for those secrets in her eyes, for the pain he sensed there?
He opened his mouth to ask her, but before he could a loud clatter echoed through the place as a server busing the table next to them dropped the bin of dishes.
At the sudden, unexpected sound, Olivia gave one terrified gasp and slid from her seat under the table.
Damn, he hated these moments when her PTSD took over. They left him both furious and profoundly sad. He took a breath and leaned down to talk her through it, but Celeste beat him to it. She reached down and gave Olivia’s shoulder a comforting squeeze beneath the table.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. It was only dishes. That’s all. I know you were startled, but you’re safe, sweetheart.”
Olivia was making little whimpering noises that broke his heart all over again.
“I don’t like loud noises,” she said.
“Especially when you don’t expect them and don’t have time to prepare. Those are the worst, right?”
To his shock, Celeste spoke with a tone of experience. He gazed at her, trying to remember again what he knew about her and her sisters.
“They are,” Olivia said. Though she still sounded upset, he could no longer hear the blind panic in her voice.
“Why don’t you come up and finish your pizza? If you want, I can ask Lucy about fixing you one of their best desserts. It’s a big gooey chocolate-chip cookie they bake in the wood-fired oven and top with hand-churned ice cream. I think you’ll love it. I know it’s my favorite thing to eat when I’ve been startled or upset about something.”
After another moment, Olivia peeked her head out from under the booth. “They’re not going to make that sound again, are they?”
“I don’t think so. That was an accident.”
“I hope they don’t have another accident,” she answered in a small voice.
“If they do, your dad and I are right here to make sure nothing hurts you.”
That seemed enough to satisfy her. His daughter slid back onto the seat. She still had a wild look in her eyes, and he noticed she edged closer to him and constantly looked toward Celeste for reassurance while they finished their pizza.
He didn’t miss the protective expression Celeste wore in return, an expression that turned his insides just as gooey as that chocolate-chip cookie she was talking about.
He couldn’t let himself develop feelings for this woman, no matter how amazing she was with his child, he reminded himself.
He had to focus on his daughter right now. She was the only thing that mattered.
“Is she asleep?” Celeste whispered an hour later, when they made the turn onto Cold Creek Road.
He glanced in the rearview mirror and could see Olivia curled into the corner, her eyes closed and her cheek resting on her hand.
“Looks like it.” He pitched his voice low. “She’s always been a kid who can sleep anywhere, especially when she’s had a long day. Driving in the car has always knocked her right out. When she was going through the terrible twos and used to fight going to bed, I would strap her in her car seat and drive her around the block a few times. She always ran so hard that when she finally stopped, she would drop like a rock by the time we hit the first corner.”
“Did she stay asleep?”
“Yeah. That was the amazing part. She never seemed to mind when I unstrapped her from her car seat and carried her into the house to her bed. I was kind of sorry when she outgrew that phase and started sleeping in her own bed without a fuss.”
Beside him, he caught a flash of white in the darkness as Celeste smiled a little. “I imagine she was an adorable toddler.”
“Oh, she was. Scary smart and curious about everything.”
He felt a sharp pang in his heart when he thought again about how much she had changed, how she had become so fearful and hesitant. Would the old Olivia ever return, or was this their new version of normal?
“I wish you could have known her three months ago. Before.”
Celeste reached out to touch his arm briefly, like a little bird landing on a branch for only a moment before fluttering away again.
“She’s a wonderful girl, Flynn. A terrible thing happened to her, yes, but she’s already demonstrated what a survivor she is. Trust me. She’ll get through it in time. She may always have those dark memories—nothing can take them away completely—but eventually she’ll learn how to replace them with happier thoughts.”
He glanced over at her. “Is that how you coped?”
He could sense her sudden fine-edged tension. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“What happened to you? I vaguely remember my grandmother saying something about you and your sisters enduring a terrible ordeal, but I’ve been racking my brain and can’t remember what. I should. I’m sorry.”
She was silent for a long time and he didn’t press, just continued driving through the quiet night through Cold Creek Canyon.
The creek here wound beside the road and through the trees, silvery in the moonlight. Tall pines and firs grew beside cottonwoods along the banks, at times almost forming a tunnel over the road. It was beautiful and mysterious at night with the snow fluttering gently against the windshield and the occasional house or ranchette decorated with Christmas lights.
She finally spoke when they were almost to the Star N. “It’s a time of my life I don’t like to think about,” she murmured.
“Oh?”
She sighed. “I told you my parents moved us around the globe under sometimes difficult circumstances.”
He nodded, wondering what her life must have been like without any kind of stable place to call home. Had she thrived there or had she always felt as if something were missing in her life?
She loved to read. Perhaps books had been her one constant friend through all the chaos and uncertainty.
“When I was eleven, we moved to Colombia to open a clinic in a small, undeveloped region. My parents were assured over and over that it was a safe area to bring their daughters.”
“It wasn’t?”