“I need to stop at the mini-mart.” Becca asked as the old iron bridge rumbled under Alec’s tires.
“We should get the tree in water without delay.”
“Please. It’s on the way.” And it would probably be late by the time she finished decorating—even with Alec’s help. She smiled at her accomplishment in getting him to agree. Meeting the VIPs might not be much of an enticement, but the chance to get to know them seemed to be the only sort of payment this stubborn man behind the wheel would accept.
The gravel apron under the cottonwood trees surrounding the mini-mart came into view down the street. “You don’t have to come in. I’ll be quick.”
Alec parked at a diagonal away from another pickup. She rushed past that truck and was about to grab for the pull bar when a trim, gray-haired man in jeans and a down parka held the door open for her.
“Thank you.” She smiled and entered the store. Within two minutes, she’d found the dozen eggs she’d forgotten the day before. A younger woman—not her old teacher—rang up her purchase. Outside, Alec shook hands with the other customer and waved him goodbye.
She watched until his truck disappeared. “Who was that?”
“That’s Frank Thompson. He lives next door to you.”
“You mean the inn?”
Alec nodded and opened his cab door. “I’m surprised you haven’t met him.”
Her shoulders slumped. Here she was, trying to do everything to make a good impression to enhance the Clan MacDonald image for her VIP guests when meeting her neighbors should have been at least as important. “I haven’t had time.”
That sounded lame. She could do better. “He seems nice.”
“He’s a good neighbor to know.”
* * *
“Stop walking so fast.” Becca fumbled to hold onto the top of the tree. No wonder Alec had suggested going with a smaller tree. Carrying this huge one into the house was turning out to be quite a workout. “I can’t see where I’m putting my feet.”
Alec halted on one of the inn’s front steps. “Hold your end higher. Pretend you’re lifting barbells.”
“I’ve never done that.” She laid the treetop on the walk and heaved in a breath. Trixie trotted out of the house with Brandy and descended the steps. “Go play, Trixie. I don’t need your help.”
“What’s your sport?” Alec still hefted the trunk end, but he was the one with muscles. “I don’t suppose you still run track.”
“No.” She lifted her end. “Go. I’ve got a good hold now.”
She batted away a branch threatening to poke her in the eye and staggered up the steps after Alec. “Why?”
“Simple curiosity.” Alec stopped.
He wondered about her? Should she be flattered? She stumbled up the remaining steps and backed across the threshold to enter the house first. “I’m putting this in the right-hand corner.”
When he didn’t follow with his end, she stumbled and dropped the tree. “What’s wrong?”
“Speaking as someone who’s lived here, you don’t want to put the tree that close to the hearth. Assuming you plan to have a fire for your guests, that is. We should put it at the opposite end of the room.”
She glanced through the open door. At the rear of the big den, two rustic wood and leather sofas squared off in front of the big stone fireplace that simply begged for a welcoming blaze, especially in this frigid weather. “There’s a fire screen, you know.”
But the tree would dry out faster next to a heat source. She had plenty of other choices as he’d pointed out. “You’re probably right.”
“I know I am. Put your end down.”
Her back went ramrod straight. Alec had been helpful and considerate all morning. She had been mostly agreeing with him, and there was no reason she could see for him to revert to his annoying know-it-all attitude. “Aren’t we taking it inside?”
“Not yet.” He took the tape from his jacket pocket and measured the tree. The calibrated strip swooshed back into the case, punctuating the stillness. “Exactly as I thought,” he said. “We’re going to have to cut off about a foot.”
She rushed to stand between him and tree. “If I’d wanted a smaller tree, I would have chosen that first one. But wait. How do you know?”
“Would you believe me if I told you it’s instinct?”
“No.” She doubted Alec ever relied on a hunch. She didn’t either. Not anymore. Following impulses was too dangerous.
His warm brown eyes lingered on her face. “I thought not. Actually, I know exactly how high the ceiling is. I used to live here, remember?”
“Let’s not start trash talking our wicked ancestors again.” She pasted a smile on her face. “Please.”
“Do you want to hear the story behind that or not?”
She sagged against the door jamb, glancing at her watch. One toaster pastry for breakfast could last only so long, but Alec obviously wanted to have his say. “Sure.” She put visions of steaming bowls of soup aside and rolled her hand. “What’s the story?”
“Your brother and I hauled a ladder in here when we were eight years old. He had your dad’s long tape measure. We were each going to climb to the ceiling, drop the tape, and compare measurements, like real scientists. I went first. I was climbing onto the top rung when my dad burst in and yelled at us. He scared me so bad, I fell off and brought the ladder down on top of myself.”
“Your dad yelled at everyone.” Nothing she or any of her family did around the place had ever satisfied Alec’s father. “He was probably the main reason we left town.”
Alec nodded. “Same.”
Then why…? She eyeballed him. “But you came back?”
“So did you.” He propped his hands on his hips.
She laughed and swatted his arm. Alec had some hard muscles beneath the flannel shirt, no doubt from wrenching off clogged pipes or chopping down trees, or whatever else he did during the cold winter days here. None of which should even remotely be of interest.
“Hey. Be careful.” He clutched his arm. “You don’t want to maim the tree man.”
The dogs had come up the front steps to investigate. “We need to get them out of the way.” Alec led them to the end of the porch closest to the inn’s small parking lot. “Sit,” he commanded.
Trixie danced around, but Alec’s dog sat.
“Trixie, show Alec you can behave.” She marched over and pointed to the floor. “Sit. Stay.”
Brandy lay down, but Trixie trailed her back to the door. Becca shook her head. “Sorry, I’m still working on that command. I’ll put her in a room for now.”
“You have a tree stand, right?”
She nodded.
“We will need that, but first why don’t you get the vacuum flask of soup from my truck? I don’t know about you, but after all this manual labor, I could eat some lunch.”
“You’re not the only one.” She went out the back door. After a few minutes she found the thermos in his truck. When she unscrewed the lid, the hearty aroma of beef and barley made her stomach growl. Had Alec read her mind or was this one of his favorites, too?
She recapped the bottle and found the tree stand and carried it to the front porch. Alec sat back on his heels, rubbing an arm through the faded flannel and staring through the doorway into the front hall. “Alec?” She paused. “Are you okay?”
“Sure.” His gaze found hers, and he shot a hand through his hair. “I’m thinking.”
She set the box with the stand on the floor beside him. “What about?”
His cheeks, already rosy from being in the cold all morning, turned redder. He pursed his mouth and frowned, staring first at her and then at the tree. “I’m thinking about the best way to proceed.”
She didn’t believe for a minute that was why he’d blushed, but probing his emotions wasn’t on her agenda today. Or ever. Well…maybe someday.
First, she’d have to feel more comfortable with him. She propped her hands on her hips. “Do you need any help?”
“I’ve got this.”
She knew from her brother this was man code for “go away and don’t interrupt.” Though Alec pretended not to know why someone would want a Christmas tree, he seemed to know a lot about erecting one. Had he gained experience as a teenager helping his mom? Or with a girlfriend?
Like it mattered either way. She watched him put together the stand and wedge the trunk into the saucer, the mere sight of him conjuring up that strange, suspended moment when he’d wrapped his arms around her up on the mountain. The earthy scents of Alec had drowned her senses as his arms had tightened. For a second, she’d thought he might kiss her exactly the way she’d always fantasized.
Alec settled the tree in the corner and stepped back, lifting an eyebrow in her direction. “What do you think?”
“You were right. These branches would have extended too close to the fireplace. It’s perfect over here.” Becca crossed her arms. “It’s possible these outdoor VIPs won’t give a fig about the tree. But I do.”
He looked at her so intently she turned her back to hide her thoughts. His warm hands squeezed her shoulders, and he asked, his voice soft, “You need something to celebrate?”
She certainly could celebrate escaping the clutches of her embezzling assistant. That man could have destroyed the Clan MacDonald hotels. The worst part was that he hadn’t even loved her. She glared at Alec, daring him to back off. “Absolutely.”
Alec cocked an eyebrow, definitely not taking the hint. He wanted to know more. She couldn’t even bear to think about her failure. How could she confide in someone else, especially a man who seemed to live a charmed life?
Charmed? Then why was he back in Angels Glen?
She picked up a box from the coffee table and extracted a string of multi-colored lights. “Someone besides Mrs. Nettles should show some Christmas spirit in this town.”
“Clyde has lights in the restaurant.”
“You’re right.” She had noticed them before swinging her gaze as far from Alec as possible. “Now I remember.”
“The Thompsons next door have a tree in the window. The town is erecting one inside the park gazebo today for a carol sing.”
“There’s Christmas caroling in Angels Glen?”
“It’s Mrs. Nettles’s brainchild,” Alec explained. “Everyone in town meets in the park. Afterwards there’s usually coffee or hot cocoa, but this year we’re having a potluck supper in the community center.”
“That’s neat.” She never would have imagined her hometown hosting such a quaint custom. “The caroling takes place on Christmas?”
“Christmas Eve.” His brown eyes caught hers, and she couldn’t look away. The moment spun out between them, creating a cocoon. His gaze dropped to her lips, and for the second time today she wondered if he might kiss her.
After her jerky ex-assistant’s behavior, she’d given up that sort of fantasy. Right? She retreated to the sofa, reaching behind her for another box to open. “I was thinking about using the little white lights around the front door, wrapped inside the evergreen boughs you probably saw on the back porch this morning.”
“You were thinking, huh?”
She loved the way his voice could so easily turn playful—when she’d once hated that very thing. His apology showed he’d change, but could a tiger ever really change his stripes? “It’s been known to happen, though it’s rarely acknowledged.”
“Let’s not dredge up ancient history again, Becca.”
“That’s all we have.” She propped a hand on her hip, daring him to contradict her.
“Not really. We have yesterday’s drive to the mini-mart and the charging of your dead battery. We have today’s delightful morning cowering from imaginary bears.”
“I promise to do better.” She made an “X” across her chest and rubbed her arms, the chill in the room—or the thought of bears—suddenly overwhelming. “I could use some hot soup right about now. What about you?”
“Don’t get excited. It’s out of a can.”
“Some of my favorite soup comes in a can.” She grinned. “Remember, it’s the thought that counts.”
* * *
It’s the thought that counts?
She probably meant his foresight in bringing something hot to eat, but when she’d said that, he’d been having lots of other thoughts. Like how it would feel to hold her even closer than in the forest. Like how much he wanted to kiss her. He should be careful. Becca seemed way too attuned to what went through his mind. Even more than he did.
He watched her wipe down the counter one last time before settling on her stool to finish her lunch. He’d seen her housekeeping skills aplenty as a kid, but this was a business that should have staff. “Don’t you have any help here? A housekeeper? A maid?”
“I was expecting someone, too.” She spread brie on a gourmet cracker. “Apparently, whoever was working here quit at the same time the manager did.”
With a sudden realization, Alec straightened. Becca had been in this house all alone last night. He glanced at the dogs lying on the floor nearby. Trixie wasn’t exactly a guard dog, but what if he offered to stay? To ease his mind, mostly, but what would she say?
He didn’t know, and dithering about this now wasted time. He carried his dishes to the sink. “We need to get moving if we’re going to finish all this decorating today. Do you have a ladder?”
“There’s probably one in the well house, but we can always wrap up things tomorrow.” Her pretty blond brows rose. “Unless you have a hot date?”
His morning with Becca was the closest thing to a date of any kind he’d had in months, but he couldn’t tell her that since they were both avoiding any mention of gazing into each other’s eyes or related subjects. “This is the most important thing on my agenda at the moment.”
“Good. I would prefer to get all the decorating done today if we can.” Becca loaded the dishwasher, giving him an eyeful of her feminine curves. He let himself ogle her while reminding himself they were still in the friend zone and would be there as long as she was Rob’s little sister. In other words, forever.
She straightened. “I should probably try to find some part-time help. Maybe put up a flyer in the mini-mart.”
“There’s a laundromat behind the Gold Nugget with a bulletin board full of community notices. I’m sure Clyde would be happy to post one in the restaurant, too.” Alec busied himself putting the leftovers away.
“You frequent the restaurant?” She closed the dishwasher.
“In the winter, it’s sort of the local gathering place. Plus, Clyde makes good coffee. You should spend time there and get to know the community.”
She grabbed a towel and wiped her hands. “What good is that? I’m not staying past the holidays.”
“Locals might have suggestions about things to do here, which you can then mention to your guests.”
“You really think so?”
“Can’t hurt. I know the mayor’s son is trying to generate interest in opening more mountain biking trails.” If Becca warmed to Angels Glen, maybe she’d visit more often. Alec blinked. Where had that thought come from?
She tapped a finger against her lips. “I’ll have to see if I can fit that in. My number one priority is to make sure our inn is ready for the marketing department’s guests. Let’s go look for that ladder.”
A blast of stale air swept over them when she pushed open the shed door and switched on a light. A large pump filled the small space. Yard tools and orange outdoor extension cords hung on the walls. Folded tarps had been stored on a narrow shelf beside a few cans of paint.
“There it is.” Becca pointed toward a corner. “Looks like there’s only one, but there’s also a stepstool in the kitchen.”
Alec edged past the lawnmower and carried the ladder outside. The dogs crowded around, noses nudging him before he could brace the ladder. He led them a few yards and directed them to stay.
“Trixie’s going to jump right up. Just watch.” Becca closed the door.
He looked down at her terrier. “Sit.”
Trixie sat.
“Collar her if she moves, will you? I don’t want her hurt.” He hauled the ladder to the front porch and then helped her carry the swags through the house. “If you want, I’ll hang lights on the top of the tree now. Then you can take over decorating the rest while I’m outside.”
“Good idea. Let me find the angel that goes on top.” Becca rooted around in the boxes scattered across the rustic furniture. “I can’t find the topper.” She handed over a long string of colored lights. “Put the first light high enough to slip underneath the angel when I find it.”
He did as she asked, then returned to the porch. They worked at their separate tasks until late afternoon. He had wrapped all six porch columns and plugged in the lights. Everything looked wonderfully Christmasy. He leaned inside, “Come see what you think, Becca.”
She closed the door behind her and strolled the porch before descending the steps, scanning the roof supports and the doorway. “This looks great, Alec.” She smiled. “You’re a natural at Christmas decorating.”
Her smile lifted him two feet off the ground. “Glad you’re happy.”
Sure, he wanted to meet her guests, but making her happy had really been the whole point, right?
She climbed the steps and toed the loose cord under the banister. “I’ve got some masking tape we can use to keep this in place.” She reached for the front door. “I’ll go get it.”
A high-pitched beeping froze both of them to the spot.
An acrid stench floated out of the house. Becca coughed, and Alec sucked in a breath, his heart racing. “Something’s on fire.”
In the living room, gray smoke surged from the big hearth. Behind the fire screen, the edge of a long strip of cardboard burst into flame. He spun around. “You set this fire on purpose?”
* * *
Why, oh, why did she always have to be so efficient? Becca held a dish towel over her nose and mouth and set up a fan in the kitchen to blow smoke outside. She rushed back into the den, waving her arms to clear the air. “Is it out yet?”
“I think so.” Alec had suffocated the flames with the first thing handy before racing out to the shed. He leaned into the fireplace now, his hands on a tarp smothering the smoldering remains. “Where are the dogs?”
“I shut them into the office until we cleared out the smoke.”
“Good thinking. Let me get rid of this, and we can assess the damage.” Alec scooped the cinders and debris into the tarpaulin and disappeared with his bundle.
Black soot covered everything: the floor, the furniture, the old-fashioned Christmas balls and lights hanging in the tree. She hated to think how much worse the room would have looked without Alec’s quick actions. Even the wonderful evergreen scent had been squashed.
Her throat tightened. All she’d wanted was to make the house feel like the holidays. Instead, she’d ruined everything.
Alec returned and, squatting in front of the filthy fireplace, peered up into the chimney. “Looks like the damper is still closed.”
“The damper?” Where had she heard that word before? “Does that have something to do with water?”
“It controls the flow of air in the chimney, lets smoke out when a fire’s burning. I just opened yours.”
A lump stuck in her throat, and her words came out hoarse. “I didn’t know.”
“Hey.” Alec looked up at her, his mouth lifting at the corners. “Didn’t you say you were in finance, not operations?”
“This is not funny.” She backed away, wiping her wet cheeks. “I was trying to be efficient, but I only proved how incompetent I am all over again.”
He was on his feet now, his gaze on her face, a frown pulling his brows together. “Are you crying?”
“No.” She sniffed and swiped at her cheeks. “Of course not.”
He clasped her shoulders. “You are not incompetent, Becca.”
“But I should have been more on top of the situation here.” She stared at the tree through the watery sheen of tears. “The tree was so beautiful. The only thing left was for you to climb the ladder and put the angel on top.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It will look beautiful again when we get everything cleaned up.”
She choked back a sob. “There are too many lights. And the balls have glitter patterns. Wiping them will ruin them. Putting up a Christmas tree isn’t exactly rocket science, but I messed that up, too.”
“Come on, Rebecca.” He offered her his handkerchief and pulled her close. “Please don’t cry.”
The only other time she’d cried in front of Alec was from the fishhook incident. This probably ranked much lower than physical injury, though not to her. Instead of showing him she’d matured and could handle problems with calm, she was crying like that ten-year-old all over again.
His deep voice rumbled under her cheek. “With both of us working, we can finish the cleanup by suppertime.”
She gave him what was probably a wobbly smile. “Then we’d better start.”