Rugged Hearts (20 page)

“So you suspected I was Montana?” The thought intrigued him.

“Yep, I pretty much had decided it was you after that day in the drugstore.”

“Uh-huh.” He eyed her. “But you never made any judgments about my personality, based on my posts?”

She walked to the table, pulled the box of toys toward her, and sifted through them. She reached inside and placed each scuffed up toy on the table, purposely avoiding eye contact. “Well, nothing quite as colorful as Hopeless.”

Wyatt felt a decided chill in the air.

“We should get these cleaned up, don’t you think?” She searched around her and found a dishtowel. He watched her move around the kitchen. The connection he’d found earlier had faded. Not just on a physical level, though he knew they’d be insanely good together, but beyond that. It had been a long time since he’d felt safe around anyone. “Aimee, about the class—I didn’t understand, but I do now.” He wanted her to say something. Dispense absolution for his critical judgment in calling her “hopeless.”

“Are you sure you won’t mind giving these up? Some of them could be worth a lot,” she stated, busy with polishing the old John Deere toy tractor.

Unsure how he could recapture the warmth between them, he shrugged. “I don’t have any kids to pass them down to.” The twinge of anger he felt was directed inward. He’d gone too far, but hadn’t she encouraged him? Damn. Women could be confusing.

She didn’t look up. “Oh, you’re plenty young enough yet to have kids if you want them, as far as that’s concerned.” She stopped suddenly and made a face. “I guess maybe that was a little too personal, huh?”

His chest eased a little. Maybe she wasn’t as put off by his careless comment as he thought, but the thought of having kids? He’d long ago decided against the idea, given he’d never found someone he trusted enough to even contemplate the notion. Aimee, however, in a short time, had caused him to reevaluate a few things. He rubbed his hand over his mouth and was still able to taste her on his lips. Maybe it was best to give this thing between them some time, to let things progress naturally instead of being in a rush. He’d been burned once before by traipsing after his emotions instead of using his head. But he wanted somehow to let her know his perception of her had changed. He liked her and he liked who he was when he was around her. “Aimee.” He touched her shoulder. “For the record, I don’t think you’re hopeless.”

She tossed him a side look and went back to her task. “It’s okay, Wyatt. To be honest, I’ve been called worse. There was a time when I would probably have agreed with you. Life has a way of changing your perspective.” She shrugged. “Sometimes for the good and sometimes, well, not so much.”

Her words struck a chord. “So, for the sake of conversation, what did you think about me when you read my posts?” He focused on a dried patch of dirt on a small truck’s wheel well.

“The truth?” She faced him.

Wyatt eyed her, unsure if he really wanted to know, because she’d be straight with him. He knew her well enough to know that much. “Hit me with it.”

She shrugged. “I thought you sounded lonely. Like you’d been deeply hurt. Nearly everyone I talked to about you cautioned me about the fact you were this loner living out here. I guess I wanted to find out for myself.”

He focused on the truck and traced his finger over the engraved markings. Her words tumbled in his brain. He wanted to respond, to explain himself, and his past, so she’d understand, but he wasn’t ready yet. He couldn’t rely on his emotions like she seemed to. He switched gears away from deeper issues. “You know what? If we’re going to do this, we might as well go whole hog.”

She looked up at him in surprise. “Whole what?”

He grabbed another box he’d found tucked away in the barn. He’d not planned necessarily on resurrecting it, but maybe, just this once, he would. He fished through the contents and pulled the sealed bag containing Jed’s white Santa wig and beard. Quickly donning both, he faced her. “You think I could pull off the Santa thing?” He wanted to get past the awkwardness he sensed and at the same time, wanted to believe that what they’d shared was more than a passing physical attraction.

She folded her arms over her chest. “I think you could do about anything you set your mind to.”

“Oh, hold on. The look is not complete.” He went to the foyer and plucked his Stetson from the antler hat rack. “How’s this?” He plopped the hat on his head.

She chuckled and handed him the beautiful heavy, red velvet jacket after shaking it out. “You might need to gain a few extra pounds. Though I think I like this new buff-Santa look.”

“Aimee, be a good girl,” he warned.
At least for now
, he added silently.

She held up her palm and nodded.

He crooked his head and signaled her to follow him to the living room, where he stuffed a couple of couch pillows inside the jacket.

He heard her soft chuckle and then she appeared in front of him with a winter a scarf draped over her shoulder. She began to unbutton his jacket. The pillows dropped to the floor.

“You suppose Mrs. Claus does after all the toys are delivered?”

She glanced up at him with a half smile, and then slammed the two pillows into his stomach. “Hold these in place. I’ve never met anyone who could put a sexual spin on Santa before.” Wyatt looked away as she leaned against him to loop the scarf around his waist, creating a cinch to hold the pillows in place. He glanced down, amused by her furrowed brow as she performed the task of making him appear like a real Santa. She had no idea that every time she touched him, he wanted to carry her to his bedroom. He cautioned himself to slow down and savor this time, convincing himself that when they could finally be alone, it would be worth the wait.

“There, now. Button up.” She stepped away and stuffed her hands in the pockets of his robe. He was beginning to like the look of it on her.

“I still need my boots, but what do you think?” Strange as it seemed, it felt as though something had broken loose inside of him.

“Well, I think you make a handsome Santa.” She smiled. Her hair was askew the robe way too big for her, and those red-and-green socks on her feet looked utterly ridiculous. The whole package, he decided, was sexy as hell.

“Handsome, huh?” He swaggered toward her and backed her to the edge of the couch.

“Need I remind you,” she quietly cautioned him. “About the children.” She pointed toward the bedrooms.

He knew of one that was empty.

He leaned toward her and whispered, “Have you ever kissed Santa?”

She gave him a droll look. “On the cheek, once. I remember it tasted fuzzy. Not at all pleasant, to my recollection.”

“Aw, no one should have to live with such a bad memory. Maybe we should work on a new one.” He lowered his head and sought her lips. She giggled softly.

Wyatt caught a movement from the shadows of the hall and he straightened.

“Santa? Are you kissing Ms. Worth?”

Rory stepped from the hall, his gaze never leaving Wyatt. Aimee ducked under his arm and covered her smile.

Wyatt cleared his throat and brought his voice an octave lower. “Well, young man, she just whispered to me what she wants for Christmas.” He tipped his head and pointed a finger at the small boy. “Now you best run along back to bed, or you may find coal in your stocking on Christmas morning.”

The little boy turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall. Aimee was close behind him. “See you in a few hours, Saint Wyatt.” Smiling, she too disappeared.

Alone again, he ambled back to the hearth, sat down, and attempted to get comfortable with the jerry rigging around his middle. How had Jed done this year after year? Tired suddenly, he shrugged from the coat and took the rest of the disguise back to the kitchen. He picked up the clean toys and the costume and placed them high on the pantry shelf where they could get to them later. Shutting off the lights, he sauntered back to the couch and shook out the oversize quilt to cover himself. His frame barely fit the couch, but that wasn’t what kept him awake until the wee hours of the morning. It was the image of what had happened between him and Aimee. Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, he threw his arm over his eyes and drifted into a fitful sleep.

***

A racket akin to the decibels of a rocket launch pulled Wyatt through a long tunnel. When his mind finally cleared, he turned his head and forced open one eye. Based on his blurred vision, it appeared five or so small bodies sat contentedly in front of his too-loud television, eating toast. His brain kicked in as his nose detected the heavenly scent of brewed coffee. He inhaled deep and turned on his side to burrow beneath the quilt. A moment later, he sensed something strange and peeked open one eye to find Rory hunkered down beside the couch, staring at him.

“Hey, Mr. Kinnison,” he stated in his gruff little voice. “Guess what? It’s morning and it’s still snowing. Did you know it was Christmas Eve? Hey, and did you know that—” His voice dropped to a whisper and he pressed his face so close Wyatt could smell the toast on his breath. “I saw Ms. Worth and Santa last night.” His eyes were round as dinner plates.

“Really? Did he see you?” Wyatt rubbed his eyes, flopped to his back, and discovered Aimee with what he dearly hoped was a cup of coffee in her hands.

“That wouldn’t happen to be for me, would it?” He didn’t care if it sounded like a cry for help. But he did admit the idea of having his coffee handed to him by her every morning had his vote. Her took the cup from her with reverence and discovered yet another reason he liked Aimee. A small finger tapped insistently on his shoulder. “Yes, Rory?”

“He did. Do you want to know what he said?” He glanced up at Aimee with a wide-eyed gaze.

“Something about coal, I’ll bet.” Wyatt sat up and rested his elbows on his jean-clad knees, trying to play down the incident as best he could. He put the cup down and pushed a hand through his hair, then turned his attention to the surprised boy.

“Did you see him too?”

“Rory, here’s a little advice. I’d listen to what Santa said. He has mysterious ways of knowing if you’ve been naughty or nice.” He ruffled the little boy’s hair, grabbed the cup, and took a slow whiff of its savory aroma. Hot, black coffee. It was his solitary vice. He took a sip and his eyes widened from the stark jolt to his system.

“Is it okay?” Her expression sobered into a look of concern. “I don’t often make coffee. Someone at school does. I just punted with your coffeepot directions.”

He mustered his stamina, and took another sip, determined to choke it down without asking for a knife and fork. “No.” He cleared his throat. “It’s fine, just a little hot still.”

“I’m sorry.”

He glanced up at her worried expression. “Really, it’s how I like my coffee. Hearty. Probably a good thing. I’m going to need all the help I can get today. Have you told them what we talked about?”

“No. I thought they should hear it from you.”

“Let me get a shower and then we’ll break the news.” He stood and the room swayed.
Probably from the chunks of caffeine sliding through my system
.

A few moments later, Wyatt let the hot shower sluice over his body, which still ached with the residual need Aimee produced in him. He braced his hand against the wall and thought of how the kids would react to a sleigh ride through the woods to find a tree. A smile crept over his face. Jed would have enjoyed the situation.

“Mr. Kinnison?”

Wyatt stood upright, grateful his shower curtain was opaque. He scanned the shower to find something to cover himself with, but spied only a wadded up washcloth. He held still. “Uh, yes? Who is it?” he called over the shower rod.

“Joey.”

“Scrape-on-his-chin Joey?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What can I do for you, Joey?” He smiled at this strange predicament. Yet another lesson in losing control. He was beginning to understand the fine line parents must walk between control and going with the flow.

“The girls are in the other bathroom. I need to go.”

“Go ahea—” Wyatt shrugged as he heard the familiar, steady tinkling sound.

“Thanks, Mr. Kinnison.” He sounded bright, and much more content.

“No problem, just don’t—” The sound of the toilet flushing made him wince.

The door slammed and he hoped no one heard his surprised scream as the cold water sprayed down over his body. He survived the shock, and later as he walked into the kitchen, Aimee turned to him.

“Was that a scream I heard earlier?” She held back a grin.

“Probably the cattle. They’ve been known to scream on occasion.” He walked past her, ignoring her curious gaze. “I’m going to hitch up the sleigh. Can you get the kids ready?”

“I had no idea cattle could scream,” she commented dubiously.

He turned and tipped his hat. “And they attack pesky schoolteachers, so watch yourself.”

***

The ride through the field was yet another in a long list of out-of-control experiences Aimee planned to add to her journal. The kids, after mild threats of coal in their stockings, listened to her instructions and huddled down under the blankets in the back of the sleigh. She imagined Wyatt’s dad dressed as Santa. What a delight it must have been for the youngsters to see the sight of it drawn with the rugged horses as it pulled into the town square. She glanced at Wyatt’s profile and made a wish that someday he might share some of those stories with her. He tossed her a quick smile, and she had to refrain from slipping her arm through his as they rode through the frosty winter morning. He’d told her he wanted to take them to a spot where he and Jed had years ago planted new trees. They’d be about the perfect size now for a good Christmas tree.

It was about the third round of “Jingle Bells” when he leaned over and whispered in her ear. “I doubt we have to worry about any wild animals coming within fifty yards’ earshot of that.”

She smiled, grateful once more to be at ease after what had happened in his kitchen. Sally’s warning tapped her brain more than once in the aftermath, but she felt sure there was more to the unplanned bit of making out than simple lust. Falling asleep, however, had not been as easy, with images of what might have happened had she not placed the kibosh on things. But for now, she had to place the incident aside and deal with her charges.