Santa In Montana (Calder Saga 11)

“Like hell I did,” Chase fired back, matching her explosion of temper.

“Oh, really.” Cat jammed her hands on her hips, striking a challenging pose. “Then why are you on the floor?”

“Because I wanted to be. How the hell else am I supposed to look for anything in the bottom drawer.” He made a half savage gesture at its contents.

Belatedly Cat noticed Jake, standing at the front of the desk, all eyes and ears. “Watch your language,” she hissed at her father and jerked her head in Jake’s direction.

“I wouldn’t have any damned reason to be swearing if people would just put things back where they belong,” Chase muttered and began pawing through the drawer.

“Just what are you trying to find?” Cat demanded, totally exasperated with him.

“My address book. The one that belongs in the top drawer.” Straightening, he punched a finger at the proper location. “But it doesn’t happen to be there.”

“That’s my fault, Gramps,” Trey spoke up. “After I transferred all the names and numbers into the computer, I stuck the book over here in the cupboard.”

As Trey moved to retrieve it, Chase demanded, “Why the hell did you do that?”

“What difference does it make why he did it?” Cat argued and swung away, stepping to the computer’s keyboard behind the desk. “It was done. Now, whose number do you want? I can call it up faster than you can find it in that stupid book.”

“If I wanted you to look up a number for me, I would have asked, now, wouldn’t I?” Chase caught hold of the desk edge and used it to lever himself back into his chair.

“You’re turning into such a grouchy old bear, Dad. I was simply trying to help you, and I get growled at for it.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have done that,” he conceded grudgingly. “But I got irritated. At my age, I don’t have a lot of time to waste looking for stuff.”

“Here you go, Gramps.” With the address book retrieved from the cupboard, Trey placed it on the desk in front of him.

“Lunch is on the table. And if the soup’s cold, it’s your fault because you just had to have your address book.” Plainly still angry with him, Cat pivoted sharply and stalked out of the den.

A faint sigh of regret slipped from him as Chase watched her go. He flicked a glance at Trey. “Something tells me I hurt her feelings.”

“I think maybe you did.” Trey smiled in commiseration, one of those man-to-man exchanges over the touchiness of women.

Before Sloan could speak up in defense of her sex, Jake chimed in, offering Chase some justification for his action. “But you only got mad ’cause Aunt Cat was fussing over you again. She needs a husband, huh, Greypa?”

“One would sure take the focus off me,” he agreed absently and reached around for his cane. “We’d all better get in there for lunch or she’ll never give me any peace.”

“Are you gonna get her a husband?” Jake wondered, moving to Chase’s side after he rose to his feet.

“Tell you what—let’s both keep our eyes peeled for one,” Chase suggested.

“Okay.” Jake stood a little taller, proud that he had been asked to participate in the search.

“A word of warning, though”—Chase bent his head in Jake’s direction, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial fashion—“don’t say anything to Aunt Cat about it.”

“How come?”

“Well, if she thought we had anything to do with finding her someone, she’s liable to dig in her heels and refuse to have anything to do with him,” Chase explained. “Women can be contrary that way. From now on we need to keep this husband thing between you and me. Deal?” Chase held out an open palm.

Jake readily gave it a slap of agreement. “Deal.”

But to Sloan’s ears, Chase’s comments contained an undertone of chauvinism. “Tell me he isn’t serious,” she murmured to Trey.

“Partly,” he admitted, amused by the whole scene. “But mostly he knows how to handle little boys. When I was his age, there was nothing more exciting than having a secret pact.”

“I suppose,” Sloan murmured, only half convinced.

“If you can think of a better way to stop Jake from talking about a husband for Cat—” He left it as an unfinished challenge.