Merry Christmas, Baby Maverick! Page 2

  “Are you going to have a full house over the holidays this year?” Kayla asked.

  “I hope so,” the older woman said. “We’ve had Claire, Levi and Bekka with us since August, and Claire’s sisters have hinted that they might head this way for Christmas, which would be great. I so love having the kids around.”

  Kayla smiled because she knew the kids referred to—Bekka excluded—were all adults.

  They chatted some more about holiday traditions and family plans, then Melba glanced at the clock on the wall. “Goodness—” her eyes grew wide “—is that the time? I’ve only got three hours until I’m meeting Gene for dinner, and all I’ve bought is a cup of coffee.”

  “Mr. Strickland came into the city with you?”

  The older woman nodded. “We’ve got tickets to see A Christmas Carol tonight.”

  “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,” Kayla said. “The whole cast—especially Belle—is fabulous.”

  Melba smiled at her mention of the character played on the stage by Kayla’s sister. “Not that you’re biased at all,” she said with a wink.

  “Well, maybe a little.” Her sister had always loved the theater, but she’d been away from it for a lot of years before deciding to audition for the holiday production in Kalispell. The part of Scrooge’s former fiancée wasn’t a major role, but it was an opportunity for Kristen to get back on stage, and she was loving every minute of it.

  In support of her sister, Kayla had signed on to help behind the scenes. She’d been surprised to discover how much she enjoyed the work—and grateful that keeping busy allowed her to pretend her whole life wasn’t about to change.

  “Lissa and Gage saw it last week and said the costumes were spectacular.”

  “I had fun working on them,” she acknowledged.

  “But you have no desire to wear them onstage?”

  “None at all.”

  “You know, Kristen’s ease at playing different roles has some people wondering if she might be the Rust Creek Rambler.”

  Kayla frowned. “You’re kidding.”

  “Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to betray your sister if she is the author of the gossip column.”

  “She’s not,” Kayla said firmly.

  “I’m sure you would know—they say twins have no secrets from one another,” Melba said. “Besides, she’s been so busy with the play—and now with her new fiancé—when would she have time to write it?”

  “I’m a little surprised there’s been so much recent interest in uncovering the identity of the anonymous author, when the column has been around for almost three years now.”

  “Three and a half,” Melba corrected, proving Kayla’s point. “I suspect interest has piqued because some people think the Rambler is responsible for spiking the punch at the wedding.”

  Kayla gasped. “Why would they think that?”

  “The events of that night have certainly provided a lot of fodder for the column over the past few months,” the older woman pointed out. “It almost makes sense that whoever is writing it might want to help generate some juicy stories.”

  “That’s a scary thought.”

  “Isn’t it?” Melba finished her coffee and set her cup down. “The Rambler also noted that you were up close and personal with my grandson, Trey, on the dance floor at Braden and Jennifer’s wedding.”

  Kayla had long ago accepted that in order to ensure no one ever suspected she was the Rambler, it was necessary to drop her own name into the column every once in a while. Since her turn on the dance floor with Trey hadn’t gone unnoticed, the Rambler would be expected to comment on it. As for up close and personal—that hadn’t come until later, and she had no intention of confiding that truth to Trey’s grandmother.

  Instead, she lifted her cup to her lips—only to discover that it was empty. She set it down again. “We danced,” she admitted.

  “That’s all?” Melba sounded almost disappointed.

  “That’s all,” Kayla echoed, her cheeks flushing. She’d never been a very good liar, and lying to Trey’s grandmother—her own baby’s great-grandmother—wasn’t easy, even if it was necessary.

  The older woman sighed. “I’ve been hoping for a long time that Trey would find a special someone to settle down with. If I had my choice, that special someone would live in Rust Creek Falls, so that he’d want to come back home here—or at least visit more often.”

  “Maybe he already has someone special in Thunder Canyon,” she suggested, aiming for a casual tone.

  “I’m sure he would have told me if he did,” Melba said. “I know he sees girls, but he’s never been serious about any of them. No one except Lana.”

  “Lana?” she echoed.

  Melba’s brow furrowed. “Maybe you don’t know about Lana. I guess Jerry and Barbara had already moved away from Rust Creek Falls before Trey met her.”

  Kayla hadn’t considered that the father of her baby might be involved with someone else—or that he might even have been in a relationship when he was visiting in the summer. Thinking about the possibility now made her feel sick. She honestly didn’t think Trey was that kind of guy—but the reality was that neither of them had been thinking very clearly the night of the wedding.

  “Anyway, he met Lana at some small local rodeo, where she won the division championship for barrel racing,” the other woman continued. “I think it was actually her horse that caught his eye before she did, but it wasn’t too long after that they were inseparable.

  “They were together for almost two years, and apparently Trey had even started looking at engagement rings. And then—” Melba shook her head “—Lana was out on her horse, just enjoying a leisurely trail ride, when the animal got spooked by something and threw her.”

  Kayla winced, already anticipating how the story would end.

  “She sustained some pretty serious injuries, and died five days later. She was only twenty-three years old.”

  “Trey must have been devastated,” Kayla said softly, her heart aching for his loss.

  “He was,” Melba agreed. “We were all saddened by her death—and so worried about him. But then, when I heard that he was dancing with you at the wedding, well, I have to admit, I let myself hope it was a sign that his heart was healed.”

  “It was just a dance,” she said again.

  “Maybe it was,” Melba acknowledged, as she pushed her chair away from the table. “And maybe there will be something more when you see him again.”

  * * *

  “Did you leave any presents in the mall for anyone else to buy?” Kristen teased, as she helped her sister cart her parcels and packages into the sprawling log house they’d grown up in.

  The Circle D Ranch, located on the north side of town, was still home to Kayla, but her twin had moved out a few weeks earlier, into a century-old Victorian home that their brother Jonah had bought after the flood for the purposes of rehabbing and reselling. Since Kristen had started working at the theater in Kalispell, this house, on the south edge of town and close to the highway, had significantly cut down her commuting time—and given her a taste of the independence she’d been craving.

  “Only a few,” Kayla warned her, dumping her armload of packages onto her bed.

  “That one looks interesting,” her sister said, reaching for the bag from the bath shop.

  Kayla slapped her hand away. “No snooping.”

  “Then it is for me,” Kristen deduced.

  “You’ll find out at Christmas—unless you try to peek again, in which case it’s going back to the store.”

  “I won’t peek,” her sister promised. “But speaking of shopping, I was thinking that you should plan a trip to Thunder Canyon to check out the stores there.”

  Kayla gestured to the assortment of bags. “Does it look like I need to ch
eck out any more stores?”

  Kristen rolled her eyes. “You and I know that your shopping is done—or very nearly, but no one else needs to know that. And shopping is only a cover story, anyway—your real purpose would be to see Trey and finally tell him about the secret you’ve been keeping for far too long.”

  Just the idea of seeing Trey again made Kayla’s tummy tighten in knots of apprehension and her heart pound with anticipation. Thoughts of Trey had always had that effect on her; his actual presence was even more potent.

  She really liked him—in fact, she’d had a major crush on him for a lot of years when she was younger. Then his family had moved away, and her infatuated heart had moved on. Until the next time he came back to Rust Creek Falls, and all it would take was a smile or a wave and she would be swooning again.

  But still, her infatuation had been nothing more than a harmless fantasy—until the night of the wedding. Being with Trey had stirred all those old feelings up again and even now there was, admittedly, a part of her that hoped he’d be thrilled by the news of a baby, sweep her into his arms, declare that he’d always loved her and wanted to marry her so they could raise their child together.

  Unfortunately, the reality was that five months had passed since the night they’d spent together, and she hadn’t heard a single word from him after he’d gone back to Thunder Canyon.

  She’d been pathetically smitten and easily seduced, and he’d been so drunk he didn’t even remember being with her. Of course, another and even more damning possibility was that he did remember but was only pretending not to because he was ashamed by what had happened—a possibility that did not bode well for the conversation they needed to have.

  “I know I have to talk to Trey,” she acknowledged to her sister now. “But I can’t just show up in Thunder Canyon to tell him that I’m having his baby.”

  “Why not?” Kristen demanded.

  “Because.”

  “You’ve been making excuses for months,” her sister pointed out. “And you don’t have many more left—excuses or months.”

  “Do you think I don’t realize that?”

  Kristen threw her hands up. “I don’t know what you realize. I never thought you’d keep your pregnancy a secret for so long—not from me or the rest of your family, and especially not from the baby’s father.

  “I’ve tried to be understanding and supportive,” her sister continued. “But if you don’t tell him, I will.”

  Kayla knew it wasn’t an idle threat. “But how can I tell Trey that he’s going to be a father when he doesn’t even remember having sex with me?”

  Kristen frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “When I saw Trey—later the next day—he said that his memory of the night before was hazy.”

  “A lot of people had blank patches after drinking that spiked punch.”

  She nodded. “But Trey’s mind had apparently blanked out the whole part about getting naked with me.”

  “Okay, that might make the conversation a little awkward,” Kristen acknowledged.

  “You think?”

  Her sister ignored her sarcasm. “But awkward or not, you have to get it over with. I’d say sooner rather than later, but it’s already later.”

  “I know,” Kayla agreed.

  “So...shopping trip to Thunder Canyon?” Kristen prompted.

  “Three hundred miles is a long way to go to pick up a few gifts—don’t you think Mom and Dad will be suspicious?”

  “I think Mom and Dad should be the least of your worries right now.”

  Kristen was right, of course. Her sister always had a way of cutting to the heart of the matter. “Will you go with me?”

  “If I had two consecutive days off from the theater, I would, but it’s just not possible right now.”

  She nodded.

  “And no,” Kristen spoke up before Kayla could say anything more. “That does not give you an excuse to wait until after the holidays to make the trip.”

  “I know,” she grumbled, because she had, of course, been thinking exactly that—and her sister knew her well enough to know it.

  “So when are you going?” Kristen demanded.

  “I’ll keep you posted. I have to get to the paper.”

  RUST CREEK RAMBLINGS: THE LA LAWYER TAKES A BRIDE

  Yes, folks, it’s official: attorney to the stars Ryan Roarke is off the market after being firmly lassoed by a local cowgirl! So what’s the next order of business for the California lawyer? Filing for a change of venue in order to keep his boots firmly planted on Montana soil and close to his beautiful bride-to-be, Kristen Dalton. No details are available yet on a date for the impending nuptials, but the good people of Rust Creek Falls can rest assured that they will know as soon as the Rambler does...

  Chapter Two

  Trey Strickland had been happily living near and working at the Thunder Canyon Resort for several years now, but he never passed up an opportunity to visit his grandparents in Rust Creek Falls. His family had lived in the small town for nearly a decade while he was growing up, and he still had good friends there and always enjoyed catching up with them again.

  Now it was December and he hadn’t been back since the summer. And whenever he thought of that visit, he thought of Kayla Dalton. Truth be told, he thought of Kayla at other times, too—and that was one of the reasons he’d forced himself to stay away for so long.

  He’d slept with his best friend’s little sister.

  And he didn’t regret it.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure he could say the same about Kayla based on her demeanor toward him the next day. She’d pretended nothing had happened between them, so he’d followed her lead.

  He suspected that they’d both acted out of character as a result of being under the influence of the wedding punch. According to his grandmother, the police now believed the fruity concoction had been spiked and were trying to determine who had done so and why.

  Trey’s initial reaction to the news had been shock, followed quickly by relief that there was a credible explanation for his own reckless behavior that night. But whatever had been in the punch, the remnants of it had long since been purged from his system, yet thoughts and memories of Kayla continued to tease his mind.

  As he navigated the familiar route from Thunder Canyon to Rust Creek Falls, his mind wandered. He was looking forward to spending the holidays with his grandparents, but he was mostly focused on the anticipation of seeing Kayla again, and the closer he got to his destination, the more prominent she figured in his thoughts.

  He’d had a great time with her at the wedding. Prior to that night, they hadn’t exchanged more than a few dozen words over the past several years, so he’d been surprised to discover that she was smart and witty and fun. She was the kind of woman he enjoyed spending time with, and he hoped he would get to spend more time with her when he was in town.

  But first he owed her an apology, which he would have delivered the very next morning except that his brain had still been enveloped in some kind of fog that had prevented him from remembering exactly what had happened after the wedding.

  He didn’t usually drink to excess. Sure, he enjoyed hanging out with his buddies and having a few beers, but he’d long outgrown the desire to get drunk and suffer the consequences the next morning. But whatever had been in that wedding punch, it hadn’t given any hint of its incredible potency...

  It was morning.

  The bright sunlight slipping past the edges of the curtains told him that much. The only other fact that registered in his brain was that he was dying. Or at least he felt as if he was. The pain in his head was so absolutely excruciating, he was certain it was going to fall right off his body—and there was a part of him that wished it would.

  In a desperate attempt to numb the tort
urous agony, he downed a handful of aspirin with a half gallon of water then managed to sit upright without wincing.

  The quiet knock on his door echoed like a thunderclap in his head before his grandmother entered. She clucked her tongue in disapproval when she came into his room and threw the curtains wide, the sunlight stabbing through his eyeballs like hot knives.

  “Get up and out of bed,” she told him. “It’s laundry day and I need your sheets.”

  He pulled the covers up over his head. “My sheets are busy right now.”

  “You should be, too. Your grandfather could use a hand cleaning out the shed.”

  He tried to nod, but even that was painful. “Give me half an hour.”

  He showered and dressed then turned his attention to the bed because, as his grandmother was fond of reminding him, it wasn’t a hotel and she wasn’t his maid. So he untucked one corner and pulled them off the bed. There was a quiet clunk as something fell free of the sheet and onto the floor.

  An earring?

  He slowly bent down to retrieve the sparkly teardrop, his mind immediately flashing back to the night before, when he’d stood beside Kayla Dalton on the edge of the dance floor and noticed the pretty earrings that hung from her ears.

  Kayla Dalton?

  He curled his fingers around the delicate bauble and sank onto the edge of the mattress as other images flashed through his mind, like snapshots with no real connection to any particular time and place. He rubbed his fingers against his temples as he tried to recall what had happened, but his brain refused to cooperate. He’d danced with Kayla—he was sure he remembered dancing with her. And then...

  He frowned as he struggled to put the disjointed pieces together. She’d looked so beautiful in the moonlight, and she’d smelled really good. And her lips had looked so temptingly soft. He’d wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t think he would have made that kind of move. Because as beautiful and tempting as she was, she was still Derek’s sister.

  But when he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the yielding of her sweet mouth beneath his, the softness of her feminine curves against his body. Since he’d never had a very good imagination, he could only conclude that the kiss had really happened.