“Expecting a big turnout at the church in this kind of weather?” Creed asked.
“Chapel will be packed full. Folks don’t miss church and this ceremony is nice,” Sage said. “I’m going to sneak back into the kitchen and tell Hilda she’s outdone herself. You go on and talk cows and tractors with the ranchers.”
“I’m going with you,” April said.
Creed hung his head. “I’m not feeling much love right now.”
April motioned toward a tall, dark-haired woman wearing a black dress slit up to her hip coming right at him. “Oh, honey, you could have all the love you want. That is Lisa Reynolds coming at you. She is wild as a March hare in heat so don’t let her talk you into something that will get you killed.”
The woman had her eyes fixed on Creed, so he smiled and held up a buffalo wing.
April pulled Sage toward the door leading into the kitchen. “Don’t worry about him. He’s a big strong boy who can take care of himself.”
“Why would I worry about him?” Sage asked.
“Hey, woman, I saw that kiss. It heated up the room about twenty degrees. Had Maria and Willa Sue both pantin’ and wishin’ they could corner him up under that mistletoe. Someday I’m going to find me a cowboy like Creed Riley and…” She stopped and blushed.
“And what?” Sage asked.
April whispered, “And we’re going to do things that’ll make snow boil.”
“April Pierce!” Hilda looked up from the island in the middle of a big, modern kitchen.
Hilda was leaning toward the backside of sixty but her hair was still black as a crow’s feathers. Her round face sported a few crow’s-feet around her dark brown eyes, and her body was a little rounder than it had been when she was twenty. She’d never married and lived in a small house out behind the bunkhouse. But most of her time was spent supervising the staff in the big house. And nobody that had two sane brain cells to bump against each other crossed her.
Not even April.
“Sorry, Hilda. You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
Sage rounded the island and bent low to hug the five-foot woman, but it didn’t take her mind off what she’d heard April say about Creed, and she damn sure didn’t like the look in Lisa’s eyes when she pranced all prissy-like across the dance floor.
“Well, I did and I’d best not hear any more such things coming from your mouth. You are going to be the mistress of Canyon Rose someday and that’s no way for a lady to talk. Now, tell me about your trip to the artist thing, Sage. Did you do well this year?”
“Very well. Enough that I get to paint another year.”
Hilda wiped her hands on a bibbed apron that hung around her neck. It covered a red pearl-snap shirt and a pair of jeans. “That’s good. Now tell me about this cowboy that Ada put so much trust in.”
“What have you heard?” Sage picked up a finger sandwich. “Is this your chicken salad? When I get married you’ve got to give me the recipe for my wedding present.”
“You are marryin’ up with that cowboy?” Hilda asked.
Sage fumbled the sandwich and had to maneuver fast to keep it from making a mess on her dress. “Hell no!”
“Never knew Ada’s Indian sense to be wrong. You’ll bring him around tomorrow for me to meet, won’t you?”
“Of course I will. It’s Christmas,” Sage said.
“Well, I’m glad you’re home, child, and safe. Storm like we had, it’s a wonder you didn’t get stuck off in a bar ditch somewhere.” Hilda pulled another pan of wings from the oven. “Now go back to the party. Them dresses cost too much to be standin’ in the kitchen with me. Go show them off.”
* * *
The tall woman pressed against Creed as if she wanted to get her message of availability through to him by touch. The blizzard hadn’t frozen his ability to reason and there was no way you could rearrange the aura around her to spell anything but trouble. Not even the love of the Christmas season and the mistletoe hanging above them had worked its magic to the point that Creed wanted to do more than dance with the lady. Fact be known, he would have rather been doing chores with Sage than two-steppin’ the tall lady around the floor.
“I’m recently divorced. Got a pretty nice little cotton farm up in Silverton in the divorce settlement. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” she whispered.
They were directly under the mistletoe when Lisa tangled her fist into his hair and pulled his face to hers. “Merry Christmas to me, Creed Riley. May it be the start of something hot and wonderful.”
And then her lips were on his. He kept his mouth shut tightly, even when she pried at it with her tongue. He didn’t shut his eyes, so everything on her face was out of focus. Her mascara had globs as big as cow patties and there were crow’s-feet around her eyes. Was that a mole she’d covered up with makeup? No, it was a tiny bit of chocolate chip from a Christmas cookie.
“You don’t kiss worth a damn,” she said as she pulled away. “We’ll have to work on that, but I do love playing the role of teacher.”
“I’m not a very good student.” He smiled.
“Then you might get a spanking with a ruler. I’ve got my ways to make you into a very good boy.”
The gritty growl in her voice left him cold, as if he’d rolled in the snow strip stark naked. He’d tasted the faint remnants of cigarettes covered up by beer and chocolate. But there was no stirring in mind or body that wanted him to show her anything he had. And he was too old to go back to school, even if the teacher did promise to work with him.
Lisa stepped back abruptly and Sage stood behind
