Chapter Five

Maybe I was overreacting about Susan having diabolical plans to steal my boyfriend, but she was slippery as a pocket full of pudding. If I could stack the deck in my favor with the aid of Natalie and Cornelius, I might not find myself squirming like a worm in hot ashes throughout the next couple of days of holiday merriments.

My phone rang as soon as I crawled behind the steering wheel in my SUV. I pulled it out as Natalie piled in next to me, her stocking cap and coat heavily sprinkled with snow from the short rush across the parking lot. Cornelius took the back seat.

A glance at the phone’s screen confirmed my fears—my mother was calling yet again, undoubtedly to remind me that the sky was still falling in frozen wet pieces.

I handed Natalie my phone as I started the engine. “Answer that for me, would you?”

“Sure thing.” She held the phone to her ear. “Santa’s workshop, Natalie the drunken elf speaking.”

I heard my mom’s laughter coming through the line, followed by a flurry of words. Shifting into drive, I headed out of the lot. According to the Honda’s external thermometer, the temperature had dropped noticeably outside over the last half hour. The parking lot had a slight crunch underneath the snow where there used to be slush.

Natalie smiled as she listened. My parents had unofficially adopted my best friend as one of their own long ago, including Natalie in our family holiday plans since we were kids. Not having her with us at all this year would have been odd.

“Yeah, she’s right here next to me trying to drive through this mess,” she told my mom.

My tires lost traction for a second or two when I pulled out onto Sherman Street. The snowplow had recently been through on the main drag, but Old Man Winter was making quick work of whiting out the plow’s hard work.

“I know, it’s crazy,” Natalie continued. “We’ll be on our way as soon as we pick up Doc.” She paused, listening. “We as in Vi, Doc, Cornelius, and me.” Another pause. Natalie grinned at me. “Yes, Cornelius is the one who talked about his dead grandfather’s fondness for coffin flies at the family dinner a few weeks ago.” She listened again and laughed, glancing back at Cornelius. “No, I don’t believe he’s ever been employed by a traveling circus. However, I have been recently informed that one of his female ancestors was revered as some sort of voodoo queen down in the Louisiana swampland.”

A cacophony of squawks and high-pitched utterances came through the line.

Natalie held the phone away, snorting and giggling. Her lips were still twitching at the corners when she returned to the call. “Is Cornelius coming as my date? No. He’s a good friend. Your daughter insisted he come along with us because he couldn’t make it home to his family for the holidays due to a flight issue.”

I heard my mom’s compassionate “ohhh” through the line. Damn, Natalie was good. She knew all about my mom’s soft spot for orphaned souls.

I passed a few other four-wheel drive vehicles as well as a pair of snowmobiles as I steered through the mess to Doc’s house, a few blocks away from the office. If it weren’t for Doc, a new set of chains, and four-wheel drive, I would have been doing more knuckle chewing about making the snowy drive to my parents.

As we neared Doc’s, I whispered to Natalie, “Wrap it up.”

Natalie nodded at me. “Was there something you needed from Violet?” she asked my mom in a much nicer way than I would have at this point. Her forehead furrowed, her smile flipping into a troubled frown. “Sure thing, Hope-ster. I’ll let her know. Don’t worry, we’ll be there raiding your fridge before long. Give Susan my love and tell her I’ll see her soon.”

I giggled. That should get Susan good and spooked. Natalie’s historic feats of retaliation against her on my account were almost as legendary as Susan’s evil deeds.

Natalie hung up after saying good-bye. She tucked the phone back in my purse. “Your mom needs a bottle of tequila.”

I guffawed, pulling in behind the Picklemobile, an old green truck Doc was borrowing from Harvey while he stored his souped-up 1969 Camaro SS in his garage. “That’s why she called? She’s low on liquor?” Hell, I wasn’t even there yet to get the mayhem rolling. I shut off the engine.

“No. She called because she just heard on the news that they closed Interstate 90 from the Wyoming border to Rapid City.”

“Fudgesicles!” I groaned, leaning my head on the steering wheel. Now what?

Cornelius spoke up from the back seat. “Truth be told, I actually spent a summer working for a circus troupe during college.”

“Really?” Natalie turned to look at him. “Doing what?”

“Training the monkeys to ride unicycles.”

A bubble of laughter rose up my throat, hilarity and hysteria mixing in my chest.

Damned the meteorologists for being right this time.

How in the hell was I going to get to my kids?

Natalie patted my back. “We’ll figure out a way to Rapid,” she said, reading my mind. “Let’s go talk to Doc. He and his big brain will have a solution.”

The three of us scurried around Harvey’s Ford pickup that sat next to the Picklemobile and climbed the steps onto Doc’s front porch.

The door opened before I could knock. Harvey ushered us inside, shutting out the wind that was trying to beat down the door. Green and white striped suspenders were hooked to his jeans, looking festive with his red flannel shirt.

“You’re cuttin’ it close, Sparky,” he said, frowning at me through his salt-and-pepper beard. His matching eyebrows were wrinkled into one long bushy caterpillar. “A blizzard is a bad time to be drivin’ through the backside of nowhere.”

“What do you mean, the backside of nowhere?” I unbuttoned my coat and then took off my cable knit beanie, shaking out my damp blond curls.

“They shut down Interstate 90 clear to Rapid.”

“We heard,” Natalie said, tugging off her stocking hat.

“The only way yer gonna git home now is up Strawberry Hill on Highway 385 and out past my ranch.”

Natalie sucked air through her teeth. “That’s a lot of twists and turns and hills to slip and slide through. We could try Nemo Road, but it might be even worse and your parents live closer to where Rimrock Highway dumps us into Rapid.”

“Those flying reindeer would come in handy right about now,” Cornelius said, stuffing his gloves in his coat pockets. He sniffed. “What’s that divine aroma?”

“Chocolate peanut butter surprise cookies,” Harvey answered. “Feel free to help yerself to some. They’re on the counter.”

Cornelius didn’t hesitate, his long legs speeding toward Doc’s kitchen.

“US 385 is tricky in the snow,” I said, returning to the problem at hand. “But it’s still doable.”

I spoke from experience. My dad had driven us home from Aunt Zoe’s place through the snow many times in the past.

“Sure,” Natalie said, rubbing her hands together. “If the plows are still running up there.”

“Are they?” I asked Harvey.

Harvey scratched at his beard. “Let me call Coop and double-check.”

“Where is Coop?” Natalie asked, earning a pair of raised brows from me. She ignored me, focusing extra hard on Harvey. “I thought he was going to his mom’s place for the holiday.”

“He’s still at work.”

“Of course Detective Scrooge is still hunched over his desk,” Natalie grumbled. “He’ll probably work straight through Christmas and not even realize it.”

Natalie suffered from a twisted sort of professional jealousy when it came to Cooper’s job, stemming from his choosing to run away to his work rather than finishing what he started with her that night behind the Purple Door Saloon.

“Knock it off, Grinch,” I told her. “You’re raining bitterness all over my Merry freakin’ Christmas.”

While I understood the pain of rejection, Natalie needed to move on with her life and focus on the here and now—such as how in the hell we were going to make it to my kids down in Rapid City.

She harrumphed. “Fine. If you need me, my sour puss will be in the kitchen scarfing down a plateful of cookies.”

As she followed in Cornelius’s wake, I looked around. “Where’s Doc?”

Harvey thumbed toward the stairs. “He told me to send ya up when ya got here.”

I checked to make sure my boots were clear of snow and started up the stairs.

“Hold up, Sparky. Coop wanted me to give you something.”

“Coop?” I hesitated. “Is it an orange jumpsuit and a set of chained ankle cuffs?”

Harvey rooted around in the closet beneath the stairs. He came out with a Christmas present the size of a large clothing box and handed it to me.

“What’s this?”

“Coop said ya wanted it fer yer stallion.”

“Ohhhh.” I smiled, knowing what was in the box now. Cooper had come through on one of my gifts for Doc. “Did your nephew actually wrap this?” The box even had a pretty bow and ribbon curls.

“ ’Course not. I did.”

I kissed Harvey’s cheek. “You’re the best bodyguard around. Save me some cookies before Natalie and Cornelius hog them all.”

I hurried up the stairs, knocking lightly on the bedroom door before opening it. “Doc?”

He stood on the other side of his bed at his desk, wearing black jeans and the brown sweater that turned his eyes into dark chocolate bliss. One smolder from him while wearing that sweater would rocket my head to the North Pole, no reindeer needed.

Doc’s focus remained on his laptop screen as I shut the door. “Come take a look at this, Killer.”

I crossed to his desk, setting the present down on his bed before joining him. I touched his back as I leaned down to look at the screen. The urge to slide my cold fingers under his soft sweater and let him warm me up in more ways than one made me lean toward him and breathe him in. He smelled tempting, a mixture of Harvey’s cookies and spicy cologne. The combination had part of me wanting to nibble on his neck and the other wanting to jump his bones.

I settled for a kiss on his beard-stubbled jaw before zeroing in on the weather radar map displayed on his laptop. As I watched, the image on the screen shifted through the past twenty minutes, showing the storm move in five-minute intervals over the northern Black Hills.

“I take it you heard about Interstate 90,” I said, scowling at all of the snow-inspired blues and purples on the screen.

“Yep.” Doc pointed at US Highway 385 on the screen. “The thick of the storm hasn’t shifted too far south yet, but it’s heading in that direction. We need to leave soon. According to the latest weather report, it will engulf all of the northern hills in the next few hours.”

“Crud.” I blew out a breath. “We should probably grab a shovel and pack some food along to be safe.”

He took a step back from his desk. “You still have that box of litter in the back of your Honda? We might need it to help with traction.”

I nodded, pulling my gaze away from the screen to find him down staring at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. I stood upright. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

He tugged on one of my curls. “You look cute with your pink nose and matching cheeks.” His gaze drifted south. “I really like those purple snow boots.”

So he’d mentioned several times since I bought them a few days ago. “You have purple boots on the brain.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Always.”

“It’s freezing out there.”

“I know how to heat you up, cara mia.” He slid his hand around to the back of my neck and bent down, warming my lips for starters.

“There’s no time,” I whispered and went up on my toes, wrapping my arms around his neck. I kissed a path along his stubble-covered jaw to his earlobe. “I have a present for you, mon cher.”

“Ah, Tish.” He gripped my hips, pulling me closer. “If it’s you naked in my bed with another red ribbon and more sweet torture in your plans, then I must be on Santa’s Nice list this year.”

“Oh, you’ve been nice.” I tugged playfully on his earlobe with my teeth. “Really nice, and extra good, too. But that present comes later, after we make it through the storm and are under the covers in my old bedroom.”

“Your parents are going to let me sleep in the same bed with you?”

I laughed, pulling back to look up at him. “Are you serious?”

“Sure.” His gaze dipped to my lips. “They might worry that I’ll ravish their daughter in her childhood boudoir.”

“Ravish? That’s all you’re planning to do? And here I was hoping to be scandalously seduced and led sinfully astray, my innocence plucked and plundered.”

“Really?” He kissed me again. I swayed toward him, taking the reins, my tongue teasing his. After several pulse-pounding seconds, he pulled back, a smirk on his mouth. “Innocence, you say? You don’t kiss like a maiden, milady.”

“A maiden?” I gave a bawdy tavern-wench laugh while picking up the present I’d brought upstairs with me. “Mister, I’d take up with a snake if it promised me a good time.” I held out the gift.

He chuckled. “You’ve been hanging around Harvey too much, saucy wench.” He took the present. “What’s this?”

“Open it and see.”

“It’s not Christmas yet.”

“This is a private gift for our eyes only.”

One dark eyebrow cocked. “If it’s a skin-tight leather getup with a ball gag, I’m not wearing it unless you have a matching one.”

I grinned. “Just open it.”

He peeled off the ribbon and paper. When he lifted the lid, his eyes widened. “Where did you get this?”

“I had a little help with my shopping from a certain law dog. He guarantees it’ll do the job.”

Doc pulled the Kevlar vest from the box, holding it up to admire it. “It’s lighter than it looks.”

“Made with some of the newest technology, or so I’m told.” Cooper had assured me it would do the job of keeping Doc safer during our hunts—or rather haunts.

He slid it on, fastening it over his chest. Cooper had been spot on with the size for Doc. I stood and knocked on the material over his heart. “Rock solid, just like the sexy stud underneath it.”

Doc caught my wrist. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or scared by this gift. What do you have planned for me, Killer?”

I winked. “What can I say? I like really rough foreplay. I’d hate for you to get hurt before you finish the job.”

“You and me both.” He lifted my hand, his lips brushing my knuckles. “Thank you. I’ll wear it on our next date.”

I sat down on the bed as he unfastened the vest and slid it off, placing it next to me on the comforter. I scratched my fingernails down the front. “Cooper says he wears his over a white T-shirt most days, especially when he knows he’ll be hanging around me.”

“Yet you still find ways to bruise the poor guy.” Doc walked over to his closet. “At least you won’t be able to pinch me in as many places when I’m wearing it.” He opened one of the closet doors. “I have a little something for you, too. Close your eyes.”

I did as told, resisting the urge to peek. My heart pounded. If he was holding an engagement ring when I opened my eyes, I was going to keel over. Marriage was a subject I avoided like the plague with Doc, even though he’d recently informed me that he was not allergic to wearing matching gold bands. A bachelor of thirty-nine years may claim that talk of getting hitched doesn’t give him the hives, but I wasn’t merely a single woman looking for a partner to go to dinner and the movies with once a week during date night. I had two kids who needed a dad. My overloaded Conestoga wagon might be more trouble than he bargained for once we settled into riding the trail together for the long term.

“Okay, open them,” Doc said.

I did and gasped.

It was not a little square box with a sparkly ring.

Not even close.

“What’s that?” I stared at what looked like a bat with an array of four-inch-long metal spikes poking out of one end. The handle had a leather grip with steel flanges above and below it to keep it from slipping free in the thick of battle—a detail Cooper would appreciate the next time we took turns swinging and shooting at sharp-toothed troublemakers.

“It’s a mace,” Doc answered. “I found a blacksmith south of Hill City who makes custom weapons.”

Was this the same guy who’d made the trident?

“I told him my idea and he brought it to life.” Doc held it out for me to take. “Try out your new weapon, Killer.”

I gripped the mace. The leather-wrapped neck was soft to the touch, like it had been worked and worn for comfort. I smiled up at him, my heart swelling. “You got me a custom-made spiky bat,” I said huskily, my throat tight with emotion. It was the perfect weapon to make me feel better after I lost my war hammer. “That’s so romantic!”

His cheeks darkened a smidgeon, his gaze lowering to the bat. “I’ve watched you work a war hammer and a crowbar. While you were good with both, I thought you might be even better with something more like a softball bat, being that you were an all-star player in high school.”

I choked up with the mace, like I was standing at home plate facing off with an invisible pitcher, and swung. The weapon felt solid in my hands, the heft of it weighted perfectly for me. I took another swing, forward and back.

“Damn, this is sweet.” I glanced down at the Kevlar vest then at Doc, who was leaning against his desk watching me with one hell of a smolder in his eyes. “Why don’t you suit up, Candy Cane, and let me take a swing or two at you.”

He laughed. “Nice try, Killer, but my ribs are still healing from our rendezvous in Slagton.”

I lowered the mace, my smile slipping at the reminder of his sore ribs. “You sure you want to go down the mountain today? Maybe you need to stay home and rest.”

His brow lowered. “Are you looking for an excuse to go to your family’s Christmas without me?”

“No. Of course not.” I thought about it for another second and answered more honestly. “Okay, maybe. The idea of spending several days with my sister sniffing around you has me sweating. I’m antsy about ending up with a serious case of heartburn for the holidays.”

“Heartburn, nice.” He got my play on words. “I told you not to worry about Susan. I have eyes for only you.”

“But I’m not tall, thin, and gorgeous. She’s like kinky sex on a popsicle stick.”

“Violet, I am so nuts about you that I gave you a lethal weapon for Christmas. A custom mace is not the sort of gift a guy buys for just any girl, you know.”

I dropped the mace on the bed next to his Kevlar vest and crossed to him, settling between his legs. I slid my hands around his waist, hugging him while I stared up at him with my heart in my eyes. “Thank you, Doc.”

“Trust me, Boots,” he said, using the nickname reserved for the stolen moments when we were usually alone and naked—well, naked except for my purple cowboy boots. “From the tips of your wild curls to the ends of your adorable toes, you are sexy as hell. I’m a man who appreciates curves, and you, fair maiden, make my knees go weak whenever I see you. You were made for me.” He ran the back of his fingers down my cheek and then followed with his lips. “And my mouth.”

“And your hands.” I nuzzled his neck, his beard stubble tickling my nose as his hands cupped and squeezed my backside. “Do we have to stay in Rapid for more than one night?”

“I don’t think this storm is giving us any choice.”

I kissed his Adam’s apple and stepped back. “Okay. I’m bringing reinforcements just in case, though.”

“You mean Natalie?”

“And Cornelius.”

“Cornelius agreed to come along?”

I winced. “I kind of shanghaied him into coming, too. He was going to stay alone in that apartment for Christmas.” At the twitch of Doc’s lips, I added, “And Jane’s being mean to him. She hid your key.”

“Did she?” He moved to the bed. “Well, I for one am glad he’s coming.”

“You are?”

“Sure. He’ll keep things interesting without even trying.” He grabbed the mace and Kevlar vest from the bed. “I’ll put these in my closet until we get back to Deadwood.”

I went into his bathroom and checked my face in the mirror. There was no hiding my swollen lips or the redness on my cheeks from his beard stubble, but I patted down my curls, anyway, and then followed Doc down the back stairs to the kitchen.

Harvey was pulling a tray of cookies from the oven as we filed out of the narrow stairwell. He looked me over from top to bottom and grinned wide enough for his two gold teeth to show. “Would ya like a cookie after yer Christmas Eve nookie?”

I pinched his side, making him yip and dance away. I reached for a cookie, risking getting my fingers bit by Cornelius and Natalie, who were guarding a plateful of the chocolate delights like hungry Doberman pinschers.

“What did Cooper say about the roads?” I asked.

“The plows are runnin’ up on US 385 as far as he knows.” Harvey pulled off his oven mitt. “But he’s dead set that you wantin’ to drive in this mess confirms his theory that anything north of yer ears is pure snowdrift.”

I crossed my arms. “He didn’t say that.”

“Well, he said somethin’ like it.” Harvey tossed the mitt on the counter. “Even if the plows are runnin’ up Strawberry, there’s no guarantee ya won’t have to take a detour along the way and end up in the middle of nowhere up to yer hips in snow.”

“I know this is a risk, but Santa’s presents are in the back of my rig and if I don’t make it down there by morning—”

“I know, I know. Yer kids will be eatin’ sorrow by the bowlful if you and those presents aren’t waitin’ fer them when they open their peepers.”

“Exactly. So what do I do?”

He untied the “Life’s short, moon the cook!” apron that I gave him yesterday for Christmas and draped it over one of the bar stools. “I have just the solution fer ya.”

“What’s that?”

He hooked his thumbs in his suspenders. “Ya take me along with ya to help play San-ty Claus.”