Santa In Montana (Calder Saga 11)

“Welcome to the Triple C. I’m Chase’s daughter, Cat Echohawk.” She extended a hand to him.

“I believe we spoke on the phone.”

“We did.” She was secretly pleased that he recognized her voice even as she absorbed the sensation of his pleasantly firm handshake. The memory of it lingered after she released his hand and reached for the doorknob. “Please come in. I know my father is expecting you.”

He stepped back, allowing her to precede him into the house. Once inside, he paused on the rug and gave the bottom of his shoes a wipe on it. Cat first pulled off her gloves, then her stocking cap, and shoved them into the pockets of her parka before reaching up to fluff the ends of her hair, suddenly self-conscious about her appearance.

“Let me take your coat for you,” she offered.

“Thanks.” He shrugged out of the topcoat and passed both coat and scarf to Cat after tucking his gloves in a pocket. Underneath, he wore a dark sports jacket over an ivory-colored sweater. The bulk didn’t at all detract from his trim build, Cat noticed.

“I imagine we’ll find my father in the den,” she told him and started in that direction. “I hope you had a good trip here,” she added, feeling a need to fill the silence. “The roads weren’t too nasty, were they?”

“For the most part, they were clear. I had no problems at all.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” As usual, the double doors to the den stood open. Cat walked in to find Chase seated behind the desk, as she expected. “Dad, Mr. Rogers has arrived.”

“So I see.” With some effort, he pushed out of his chair to stand upright with the aid of his cane.

Cat was pleased to see how quickly Wade Rogers moved to the side of the desk, without any appearance of haste, eliminating the need for the older man to come around to greet him.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you face to face, Mr. Calder.”

“Same here,” he replied, shaking hands with him. “And the name’s Chase to you. We don’t stand on formality here at the Triple C.”

“Chase it is,” he said with a nod of understanding.

“Have a seat.” Chase motioned to the chairs in front of the desk and shifted to resume his own seat. “Cat, bring us some coffee. You’d like a cup, wouldn’t you, Wade?”

“Black. No cream. No sugar. If it isn’t too much trouble,” he added, directing a smiling glance at Cat.

“It’s no trouble at all,” she assured him. “We always have a pot brewed.”

On her way to the kitchen, Cat paused in the entryway to hang up his coat and remove her own. As she lifted his coat onto the wall hook, she happened to glance at one of its sleeves. The texture and color of it brought another image flashing into her mind’s eye. She turned with a start and stared toward the den, suddenly realizing that Wade Rogers had been the one who’d helped get the tree out of its box. A smile formed as she considered the thoughtfulness of the gesture, aware that he couldn’t

have possibly known who she was.

One more mark in his favor. She almost laughed aloud at the thought. Tallying up pluses and minuses on an attractive stranger—that was a schoolgirl’s trait—and she was anything but a schoolgirl, or interested in a man’s attention.

Yet even as the latter thought registered, Cat felt a little “And yet” sigh slip from her. Shaking it off, she hung up her parka and resumed her path to the kitchen.

Five minutes later she re-entered the den, carrying a tray with an insulated carafe of coffee and two cups. After she set it on the desk, she reached for the carafe, only to be stopped by Chase.

“Don’t bother, Cat. We’ll pour our own,” he told her. “And would you mind closing the doors on your way out? Jake’s bound to come barreling in soon and I don’t want my chat with Wade interrupted.”

“Of course.” Cat smiled in understanding, splitting it between her father and the man in the wingbacked chair that faced the desk. As her glance lingered on him for a moment, she was quick to note the way Wade Rogers casually lounged in the chair, much as a frequent visitor would. “We’re almost finished with the decorations outside. Then I’ll be in to start lunch.”

“Sounds like a teenager, accounting to me for her whereabouts, doesn’t she?” Chase said to Wade, a twinkle in his eyes.

A little flustered and self-conscious, Cat was quick to justify her comment. “I just wanted you to know where I’d be in case you needed something.” With that she exited the room with as much dignity as possible.

As she paused to close the doors, she heard Wade remark, “That’s the original map of the ranch on the wall back there, isn’t it? My father described it to me many times.”

Her father’s reply was lost to her when the double doors clicked together.

The yeasty aroma of freshly baked rolls filled the kitchen when Cat opened the oven door to remove the pan. Little Jake appeared at her side almost instantly and shadowed her when she carried them over to the counter and the cooling rack that awaited them.

“They smell good, Aunt Cat,” Jake declared with feeling. “Can I have one now? I’m hungry.”