Santa In Montana (Calder Saga 11)

Cat shrugged. “Who knows? Dad is definitely thinking outside the box this year.”

“Okay. I’ll stop pestering you.” Sloan smiled. “Oops—almost forgot.” She kneeled at the bottom of the tree and gathered up the garlands that had fallen to the floor. “They’re all dusty.”

“I’ll get a rag or something.” Cat laughed and went to fetch one from the same closet the ladder came from. Sloan waited for her, wondering briefly about that outside-the-box comment.

If the ten-thousand-dollar check Chase had given to Wade was for a Christmas present, it had to be one hell of a big one. She couldn’t imagine what it might be. But then Chase could be awfully close-mouthed about his financial affairs. Maybe Trey was right and it was a charitable donation or something else that wasn’t remotely festive.

She put the thought aside as Cat returned, a towel in hand. Cat held it like a hammock and Sloan poured the dusty beads into it.

“Anything else in the bucket?” Cat asked.

“I don’t think so.” Sloan rolled the strands around in the towel. “So what were you doing when I came over?”

“Sorting out the wall decorations.”

“I’ll give you a hand.”

“Around four o’clock” had long been the stated starting time for the Triple C’s ranch party for its employees. As usual, the first arrivals showed up at the big timbered barn shortly after three. Those from distant corners of the ranch left early in case the roads were bad. Others, especially the bachelors, were all cleaned up for the party and had nothing better to do.

From her bedroom window, Cat could see the steadily growing collection of vehicles parked at the barn. Any other year she would already have been at the barn by now as well. But this year she hadn’t left the Homestead when Jessy, Trey, Sloan, and Jake had. Cat had used the excuse that Chase wasn’t ready and that she would stay to drive him to the barn later.

All knew that Chase wasn’t ready because he was waiting for Wade Rogers to come—just as they knew Cat was staying for the same reason.

Aware that she had dawdled in her room long enough, Cat selected a pair of earrings from her jewelry box and crossed to the mirror to put them on. She gave her reflection a cursory glance. The bright red of her Christmas sweater jarred her, making her realize how far from festive she felt.

“You might as well face it,” she told the woman in the mirror, her voice tight and low, “you’ve been stood up.”

The words twisted through her like a knife for a moment. She shut her eyes in an attempt to check the sharp ache, then determinedly shook off the hurt, her chin pitching forward at a proud angle.

“No,” she told herself. “He sim

ply wasn’t able to make it today.”

As she fastened on the last earring, she caught the rumbling sound of a vehicle outside. A second later, Cat realized that she could hear it so clearly because it was directly out front.

Wade?

Pushed by a fresh surge of hope, Cat flew to the window, reaching it as Sloan stepped out of the driver’s side and headed for the front steps. Abruptly she swung away from the window, squared her shoulders, and left the bedroom, head high.

At the top of the staircase, Cat saw Sloan on her way up, taking the steps two at a time. It was the angry set of Sloan’s features more than her haste that caught Cat’s attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“That Jake,” Sloan muttered. “I had his costume all together in a tote. After I got to the barn, I discovered his sandals were missing and I happen to know they were in there—right on top.”

A laugh bubbled in Cat’s throat. She fought it down. “He hid them.”

“I’ll find them and he’s going to wear them if I have to—” Sloan left the rest of the threat unfinished and headed for her son’s bedroom.

“Check his pajama drawer,” Cat called after her. “That’s where Trey put things he didn’t want Jessy to find.”

Sloan halted halfway through the doorway and threw Cat a puzzled look. “The pajama drawer? Why there?”

Cat shrugged. “Who knows how a little boy’s mind works? But would you have looked in his drawers?”

“Only if I couldn’t find the sandals anywhere else. Thanks.” Sloan swung back into the bedroom and crossed directly to the chest of drawers.

Cat didn’t wait to see if Sloan found them there but went down the stairs in search of her father. As expected, she found Chase in the den, seated behind his desk, an elbow propped on the chair arm with the knuckles of a fisted hand idly tapping his mouth. Impatience was in his expression as he contemplated the scene beyond the den’s window.