Forever Santa Page 3

  “My brother had more on his mind than Christmas bells and sleigh rides.”

  Gracie looked over her shoulder and grinned at Trent.

  He knew what she was thinking. Gracie’s first Christmas in Montana had been one of the best in his life. And Jordan was right. They’d both had more on their minds than Christmas bells and sleigh rides.

  Jordan pointed to a crop of pine trees on their left. “We’re here.”

  Gracie’s gaze wandered over the trees dripping with fresh snow. “They’re still as perfect as I remember them.”

  Trent dismounted beside Gracie. “Have a look around and tell us which one you want.”

  “I don’t think so.” Gracie laughed at her husband as she threw her leg over Daisy and slipped to the ground. “We can all choose a tree. That way you can’t grumble when we drag it home.”

  Jordan took his handsaw out of the pouch on his saddle. “I always knew you’d married a smart woman, Trent.”

  Gracie was more than smart. She was beautiful and generous and kind. She’d given up so much to live with him and he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

  He kissed her on the mouth and kept hold of her hand. As well as being the most amazing person he knew, she was short. She’d sink like a bag of flour in the powdery snow under their feet.

  She moved through the Christmas trees as if she was shopping at a Neiman Marcus store. Every now and then she’d stop and stare at a tree, move around it, then keep walking.

  “What about this one?” Gracie pointed at an eight foot tree in front of her. “We’ve got the ceiling height in the living room. The branches are thick and shaped just right.”

  Trent looked at the tree and nodded. “Looks good to me, too.” He turned around and spotted Jordan further up the hill.

  “Jordan,” he yelled. “Gracie’s chosen a tree.” His brother started making his way toward them. The closer he got, the more worried Trent became.

  “You okay?” Trent asked.

  “Fine.” Jordan knelt on the ground and started sawing the trunk of the tree.

  He’d never been a good liar. He looked as though he’d been crying, as though the weight of the world had hit him hard and fast and left him stumbling.

  Gracie stared at the top of Jordan’s head, then looked at Trent. “I’ll go and see if the horses are all right.”

  She was worried about Jordan and so was he. He watched Gracie wade through the snow before turning back to his brother. For the last couple of days Jordan hadn’t said much to anyone. He’d split his time between the ranch and the barn conversion, working long hours and doing more than his share of the work.

  “Is it dad?” Trent asked.

  Jordan stopped sawing. “What are you talking about?”

  “This place. It’s special.”

  Jordan dropped the saw and stared at him. “It’s not dad.”

  Trent frowned at his brother. “You’re not happy. What’s going on?” He didn’t think Jordan was going to tell him. Silence settled between them, thick, deep, and more disturbing than Trent wanted to admit.

  Jordan glanced back toward the homestead, then down at his hands. “My life is a mess. Tracey’s fallen in love with some idiot from Wyoming.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “About three weeks ago, but I only found out on Sunday. We’d been dating for nearly two years. Two freaking years and she didn’t have the decency to tell me before I saw her in the mall.” He turned back to the tree and picked up the saw.

  Trent didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

  Jordan grunted and started sawing, making short work of the trunk. The tree fell to the ground with a soft thump. “I’d bought her an engagement ring. I was going to propose on Christmas Eve.”

  Trent took his hat off and stared at his brother. “She didn’t know?”

  “It was a surprise.”

  Trent glanced across at Gracie. She was patting Daisy’s nose and feeding each of the horses some carrots she’d dug out of her pocket. He knew what it felt like to love someone, then have everything blow up in your face when they left. His first wife wanted to be more than a rancher’s wife. She’d packed her bags and headed to New York before their second wedding anniversary.

  He’d felt lost and alone until Gracie arrived. She made him smile, made him want to be the best he could be. He didn’t love easily, but with Gracie he couldn’t imagine feeling any other way. If she’d told him she didn’t love him he would have been devastated.

  “At least you know now.” They weren’t the most comforting words Trent could have said, but they were honest. And that above everything else was what Jordan valued the most.

  “Yeah.” Jordan pulled himself out of the snow and glared at the fallen tree. “Merry Christmas.” He lifted his head toward Gracie. “Tree’s down.”

  Gracie picked up Daisy’s reins and started walking across to them. Jordan’s and Trent’s horses followed slowly behind.

  Jordan waited until Gracie was standing beside him. “I haven’t been feeling that great. Tracey and I broke up a few days ago. The guy you saw her with in the mall is her new boyfriend.”

  Gracie let go of Daisy and wrapped her arms around Jordan’s waist. When she stepped back she had tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  Jordan lifted his hat to his head and pulled it low. “Thanks, Gracie. I’m sorry if I’ve been a grump.” He opened his saddle bag and dropped the handsaw inside. “We’d better get this tree home before it starts snowing again.”

  “You know you can always come and talk to me, don’t you?”

  Jordan stared at Gracie, then frowned. “You wouldn’t want to hear some of the thoughts racing around my brain, but thanks for the offer.”

  Trent unpacked the rope they’d bought with them. He tied one end through the lower branches of the tree and the other to his saddle. “I’ve got the tree ready. Are we done here?”

  “Not quite.” Jordan planted his hands on his hips and stared at his brother. “Are you too old all of a sudden for what comes next?”

  Trent hadn’t forgotten, but he didn’t want to add more emotion to his brother’s battered heart. “I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

  Jordan shook his head. “I’m not going to be the one to break a family tradition.”

  Trent took hold of Gracie’s hand and pulled her into a clearing in the center of the trees. “It’s snow angel time.”

  His dad had a thing for snow angels. Each Christmas they’d come to the same pasture, choose a tree, then make snow angels. He used to say their angels were looking down on them. When they made the snow angels, they were showing them they were part of their Christmas.

  And just like that it all came back. The memories of each Christmas, the snow angels and the snowball fights. The first Christmas without his dad.

  Trent wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket.

  Jordan gave him a shove and sent him sprawling headfirst into the soft snow. “We all know how much Trent likes acting like a kid.”

  Before Trent could move, Jordan threw himself on the ground and started waving his arms and legs in the snow. “Unlike my serious older brother, I’ve got no problem acting like a kid.”

  Jordan laughed, and the sound brought a smile to Trent’s face. “What about you, Gracie. Want to add your snow angel?”

  She gazed at Trent and he knew she was thinking about her mom. With a wobbly smile she carefully lay down in the snow and made her angel.

  When her arms and legs had stopped moving he scrambled to his feet. “Look at our snow angels, Gracie.” He held out his hand and she gripped his arm as he pulled her upright.

  “Hey, what about me? I might need a hand getting up.” Jordan rolled onto his side and stumbled to his feet. He looked down at the ground. “Best angels yet,” he sighed.

  Three perfectly formed snow angels lay on the ground. Gracie smiled and Trent knew she’d be all right.

  “It’s a great
family tradition,” Gracie said softly. Daisy snorted and she glanced at the horses. They were standing a few feet away, patiently waiting for them. “We’d better get back. I’ve got some planning to do.”

  Trent helped Gracie onto her saddle. “Should I be worried?”

  “Maybe. You know what a Christmas tree means, don’t you?”

  “You want to buy more decorations?”

  Gracie smiled. “I’m married to a psychic.”

  Trent shook his head. “No. You’re married to a man on a tight budget.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got a good imagination.”

  Jordan shook his head when he saw the blush spreading like wildfire across Trent’s face. “Maybe I’ve had a lucky escape.”

  “Believe me,” Trent muttered. “When it’s the right woman, there’s no escape.”

  Gracie carefully unpacked the Christmas tree lights that Karen, Trent’s mom, had left in the attic. All of the other decorations that had filled the Christmas trees on the Triple L were at Karen’s home, waiting for her tree trimming party.

  “Couldn’t this have waited until tomorrow?” Trent grumbled.

  “Don’t be a Christmas Grinch. It’s the first time we’ve done this on our own.” Gracie handed Trent the last bulb in the first string of lights. “Put this at the top and we’ll work our way down.”

  Trent muttered something under his breath, but climbed the ladder anyway. “Did you test them to make sure the bulbs haven’t blown?”

  “Oh, so that’s why they weren’t working?”

  Trent looked down at Gracie. “Tell me that’s your sick sense of humor speaking?”

  She sent him a sassy smile before lifting another foot of lights off the floor. “I thought you married me because I’ve got an awesome sense of humor?”

  “I married you because you’ve got a hot little body. Did you test the lights or not?”

  “Yes, I’ve tested them. Would you like to test the hot little body tonight, too?”

  Trent wobbled on the ladder. “Can we talk about something else while I’m standing up here?”

  “Sure.” Gracie grinned at her husband’s back. “Your socks are cute. Someone with an awesome sense of humor must have bought them for you.”

  Trent shook his head and kept weaving the lights between the branches.

  Gracie had ordered two pairs of fluffy woolen socks from a store in New Zealand. They were black and covered in pictures of white sheep with Santa hats on their heads. As well as being super warm they were practical, especially essential when the non-slip soles were attached to the ladder.

  “Turn the lights on, Gracie.”

  “Now?”

  “It will make it easier to see if we’ve missed a branch.”

  Gracie scrambled around under the tree, trying to find the light switch.

  “There’s a small black box attached to the bottom of the cords. Push the button on the left, Gracie.”

  She pushed a green button and wiggled backward. “Is it working?”

  “Looks good.”

  She smiled at Trent. “You’re supposed to be looking at the tree, not my bottom.”

  “That too,” he laughed. “I can’t help it if you distract me.”

  Gracie blew him a kiss and stood up. The tree looked beautiful, even though they hadn’t added one decoration. “How was Jordan?” She asked.

  “Doing better than this afternoon. He was plastering the drywall in his apartment when I left the barn.”

  “Are you going to keep calling the guest accommodation, ‘the barn’? It sounds like there should be horses in it.”

  “Considering it started out as a bunkhouse and ended up being high-end accommodation, I don’t know what Jordan wants to call it. How many lights are we putting on the tree?”

  “The websites I checked said you need one hundred lights for every foot of tree.”

  “That’s eight hundred lights. We’ll be here all night.”

  “Think of it as good training for the future. We’ll have another tree to decorate next year if anyone stays in the barn over Christmas. What are we going to do about Jordan?”

  “We’re not going to do anything about him. Don’t start hatching any plans either, Gracie. He’s dealing with what’s happening in his own way.”

  “But he’s such a great guy and he’s miserable. He needs to meet a great girl to make him feel human again.”

  “And I suppose you have the perfect woman in mind?”

  “Not yet.” Gracie moved out of the way when Trent stepped off the ladder. “There’s a gap over there.”

  Trent stared at the tree. “Where?”

  “In here.” She moved two strings of lights onto different branches. “There, that’s better.”

  “We’ll make a decent Christmas tree light person out of you yet.”

  Gracie wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist. “We make a good team.”

  “The best.”

  Trent kissed the top of her head and held her close. And not for the first time, Gracie felt like the luckiest person alive.

  Chapter 4

  Gracie slammed the oven door closed and raced to the kitchen table. She pulled a chair under the smoke detector just as it went off.

  Jordan ran into the kitchen, stopping as soon as he saw Gracie perched on the chair, frantically waving a dish towel under the smoke detector.

  “Take the cookies out of the oven and throw them outside.” She waved the dish towel some more, hoping like crazy the siren didn’t bring half the ranch hands scurrying across to the homestead. She’d be embarrassed and they’d think it was funny.

  “Those cooking lessons with Mrs. Davies don’t seem to have helped.” Jordan opened the back door and came back empty handed.

  Gracie gave the smoke alarm one last swat before carefully stepping off the chair. A broken leg, or worse, would cap off a perfectly disastrous morning. “Where’s the baking sheet?”

  “The cookies were stuck like glue. Did you grease the sheet before you put the dough on it?”

  Gracie’s face turned as red as the thermostat on the oven. “I guess the heat burned it off.”

  Jordan grinned at his sister-in-law. “You think?” He glanced at the desserts Gracie had already baked, raising his eyebrows at the pavlovas cooling on the counter. “How do you manage to bake all of this, but still have trouble with cookies?”

  “I don’t know.” Gracie supposed she should be thankful it was only cookies that made her nervous. She never had trouble with the other recipes she tried, but every time she made cookies they either ended up as flat as a pancake, burned, or just plain bad.

  “What’s all the food for anyway?” Jordan’s hand drifted toward a plate of fruit tarts.

  “You can have one.” Gracie held up her finger just in case he forgot what one meant. “I’m making dessert for tonight.” When Jordan looked at her blankly she sighed. “Don’t let your mom know you’ve forgotten about her tree trimming party. She’s been baking dough decorations all week.”

  Jordan didn’t seem impressed. He pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. Close to the fruit tarts. “These taste good. What’s in them?”

  Gracie moved the plate out from under his nose in case he started inhaling them. “Lemon curd mousse in a shortbread crust. What’s so wrong about your mom’s party?”

  Jordan strummed his fingers on the table, then glanced at Gracie. “Mom makes a big deal out of the party. We’ll be there for hours decorating the damn tree. There’ll be party games galore and we take home the dough decorations we’ve painted. The kids love it. I don’t. But I might enjoy it more if you let me sample one of those chocolate thingeys on the other plate.”

  “Those chocolate thingeys are mini tiramisu cups. Is it the party games you’re not looking forward to or the crowd of people?”

  Jordan leaned his elbows on the table and rested his face in his hands. “I want to crawl into a hole and stay there. Am I being unreasonable?”

 
“Just a bit, considering it’s Christmas.”

  Jordan sighed, then stared at Gracie. “What’s wrong with me?”

  Gracie smiled. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  “No. I might not like the answer.”

  Gracie took a teaspoon out of the cutlery drawer and passed it across to Jordan. He looked up with a question on his face. She nodded toward the tiramisu cups. “Try one. I guarantee you’ll be at your mom’s party to sample more.”

  Jordan didn’t hesitate. His spoon dipped into the soft dessert and he smiled. “I take back everything I said about your cooking abilities. Who cares if you can’t bake cookies? If you make desserts like this one I’ll be your friend for life.”

  Gracie watched him demolish the dessert and lick his spoon clean. “Talking about friends - how are you feeling? You know, about Tracey.”

  “I’m trying not to feel anything.” He sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t get any funny ideas, Gracie. I’m off women for life.”

  “In that case you can help me.”

  Jordan stared at her. “You’re not planning anything illegal are you?”

  Gracie shook her head.

  “Are you planning another Christmas party?”

  Gracie took pity on him. He looked more depressed with each option his brain came up with. “I don’t know what to buy Trent for Christmas. Have you got any ideas?”

  Jordan leaned forward. “He’s been looking at a few rifle catalogs.”

  Gracie shook her head. “I don’t care how much he enjoys shooting. I’m not buying him a rifle.”

  “Okaaay. What about a reciprocating saw? Every man needs one of those.”

  Gracie didn’t have a clue what a reciprocating saw did, but it sounded a lot better than a rifle. “What do you use it for?”

  “Everything.” Jordan’s face looked animated for the first time in days. “It cuts through anything you want to throw at it. It’s lightweight, easy to use, and indestructible.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t on your Santa list?”

  Jordan’s cheeks flushed bright red. “Not this year. I had other things in mind.”