Santa In Montana (Calder Saga 11)

Cat smiled her amusement with his reaction. “So it is. I tell you what—why don’t you go knock on Greypa’s door and tell him lunch is ready.”

“Oh, boy.” He was off the chair in a flash and racing out of the kitchen.

“Just knock,” Sloan called after him. “Don’t open the door.”

“’kay, Mom.” His answer floated back from the dining room.

“That boy,” Sloan murmured, but with obvious and genuine affection as Jessy and Laredo made their way into the kitchen.

“I swear Jake only has two speeds. Stop and go,” Laredo declared, rubbing his hands together to warm them.

“Trey was just like that at his age,” Jessy recalled, then made an assessing sweep of the lunch preparations in progress. “Need some help?”

“Everything’s ready. Just needs to be dished up,” Cat replied.

With so many hands to help, the task was accomplished in short order, leaving only Cat in the kitchen. She cast a glance around the counter and stove top to make sure nothing had been forgotten, then caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the oven door’s glass front. She bent down slightly to check her appearance, touching fingers to her dark hair.

Lips curving in amusement, she sent a glance heavenward. “I’ll bet you’re up there smiling at me, Logan, for being so female I want that handsome Wade Rogers to think I look attractive.” She turned a little serious. “It’s good to feel this alive again, though. You don’t mind, do you?” The minute the soft question slipped from her, an easy peace settled over her. “Of course, you don’t.”

She entered the dining room at the same moment that Wade Rogers strolled in alongside the much slower moving Chase. There was instant eye contact between them, and it was a heady thing. They exchanged small nods of greeting.

The moment Chase paused in the doorway, Jake was at his side. “Greypa, I’ve been waitin’ an’ waitin’ for you to come out. Me an’ Danny an’ Luke built us a snow fort. Aunt Cat thinks she helped ’em, but it was me. And—”

“Whoa there, son.” Chase held up a shushing hand. “You need to remember your manners. The first thing you do is greet our guest. Wade, this whirlwind is my great-grandson, Jake Ca

lder. Jake, meet Mr. Rogers.”

With shoulders squared and his expression solemn, if a little impatient, Jake thrust out a hand. “How do you do, sir?”

Adopting Jake’s man-to-man attitude, Wade bent slightly to shake his hand. “How do you do, sir. I’ll be interested to hear about that snow fort of yours later.”

Jake’s eyes got big with excitement. “Really?”

“Really,” Wade assured him.

“He said later,” Chase reminded him and continued with the introductions, skipping over Cat with a simple—“Of course you’ve already met my daughter”—and finishing with Laredo. “Last, but far from least, Laredo Smith, who’s a member of the family in all but name.”

“A pleasure,” Wade said as he gripped Laredo’s hand. “Laredo. That’s an unusual name.”

“Definitely colorful,” Laredo agreed. “I guess some parents do that when they’ve got a last name as common as Smith.”

“Good point,” Wade conceded, matching Laredo’s easy smile.

Jessy smiled to herself at the deft way Laredo had deflected the comment without revealing anything. He was a master at it, just like that air of friendliness he projected, all the while sizing the man up, assessing and weighing everything from the nuances of his speech pattern to his body language. All the ranch hands were convinced Laredo simply had a nose for trouble. If he did, Jessy believed it was based in his ability to read people.

Privately Jessy was curious to know what conclusion Laredo had drawn about their guest as everyone took their seats around the table. Her own first impression was favorable, but as always she reserved judgment until she heard Laredo’s opinion, having learned over the years to trust his instincts.

After the blessing was given, the serving dishes were passed around the table, and any talk was mainly centered on the food. As everyone dug into their meal, there was a momentary lull in the conversation.

Cat filled it. “Dad told us that this is your first visit to the Triple C.”

“That’s right, although my father has talked about it so much that it all seems very familiar to me.” Wade paused a beat and smiled a moment to himself. “After I turned off that highway and drove through the gate, then drove and drove the forty miles to here, I got a clear understanding of what Father was talking about when he said, ‘It takes a big chunk of ground to fit under a Calder sky.’”

“How true,” Sloan agreed. “The first time Trey brought me here, I felt a little bit like that. It doesn’t matter how much you hear or read about the Triple C, you don’t really grasp any of it until you’re actually here.”

“What part of the country do you hail from, Mr. Rogers?” Laredo asked, and Jessy guessed immediately that Laredo couldn’t place the man’s accent.

“Here, there, and everywhere,” he replied. “I was born while Father served in Congress. After college, I went to work for the State Department and ended up being posted in half a dozen or more countries around the world.”