Checking Holly Twice, page 4
“I love toast,” Holly said to the kids. “All bread, really. But there’s something about butter melted onto warm bread. So good.”
“Same here,” Dane said. “Nothing better.”
“And strawberry jam,” Ruby said. “I love sweet things. Right, Uncle Forest?”
“Too much.” My sister would be appalled that I let them have ice cream and cookies. She’d been a strict health food nut.
“Uncle Forest, we should have stopped to get Holly a pretzel,” Dane said. “That’s what she wanted.”
“I forgot,” I said. “Sorry about that, but we’ll take you into town at some point. I’m not sure anyone sells a soft pretzel, but we can look.”
“Fantastic,” Holly said. “But only if you want to. I’m low maintenance.”
I doubted that but kept my big mouth shut for once.
“Or I could make us some,” Holly said. “Maybe tomorrow or the next day. Do you have yeast?”
Yeast? I had no idea. “There’s sourdough bread. That’s all I know.”
“Excellent. Let’s make some toast, people,” Holly said.
The kids jumped from their stools and ran to the pantry. Who knew toast could be this fun to them? They didn’t care about my toast. I did burn it a lot, but still. Now, shiny new object Holly was making toast, and suddenly it was a damn holiday. I took a sip of my cider and burned my tongue.
This was going to be a long week.
3
Holly
Despite his confession about being a bad cook, the kitchen had all the equipment I could possibly want to make cookies, including a stand-up mixer. The kids sat on stools at the island putting food coloring in the frosting I’d made as I took the last batch out of the oven. We’d cut out all kinds: Santas, gingerbread boys, stars, moons, and angels. I was pleased to see that the frosting turned out thick but would still be easily spread over the cookies.
“While these cool, do you two want to show me the kittens?”
Moxie lifted her head from her nap as if the mere mention of the cats aggravated her.
“Sure, come on.” Ruby jumped from her stool, followed quickly by Dane. I noticed a movement outside, where the snow was now falling in droves. Forest was coming out of the barn wearing a thick work jacket. He trudged through the powder with shoulders that were slightly hunched. Too much on his plate, I thought. The man has too much.
I followed the kids out to the living room and around to the back of the stairs that led to the second floor. Dane opened the door to a storage area built under the stairs. A tabby mama lay on her side while her babies played around her.
“This is Boots,” Ruby said. “We thought she was a boy, and now we’re too used to her name to call her anything else.”
“Boots is a cute name for a girl or a boy,” I said.
“That’s what I think too.” Ruby nodded in a way that made me think that she now thought it was a good name because I did.
“Oh, gosh, they’re so cute,” I said. “How old are they?”
“Almost four weeks,” Dane said. “We have exactly a month to find them homes.” He sounded like a higher-pitched, less-grumpy version of his uncle.
I sat on the floor outside the cubbyhole to get a better look at the kittens. “How did you get Boots?”
“He, I mean she, just showed up one day,” Dane said. “Uncle Forest tried to shoo her away, but she kept hanging out on our front porch.”
This cat sounded a lot like me.
“Moxie barked at her, but she wasn’t afraid,” Ruby said. “Uncle Forest said she could live in the barn if she wanted to stay here so bad.”
“She killed a lot of mice. Uncle Forest liked her for that,” Dane said.
Ruby continued the story. “Finally, when it got cold, Uncle Forest said she could come inside the house but that she had to be checked for disease. That’s when we took her to the vet and found out she was a girl and that there were kittens in her tummy.”
“Now we’re in a fine mess,” Dane said. “Or at least that’s what Uncle Forest says.”
The white kitten came toward me. “Is it all right if I pick them up?”
“Yes, now that they’re older,” Ruby said.
I held the kitten between the crook of my arm and chest and stroked her head. She yawned and burrowed closer to me. “I’m in love.”
“If you take one, you need to take another,” Dane said. “Otherwise, they’re lonely.”
“Like me and Dane,” Ruby said.
Dane rolled his eyes. “Not like you and me. We’re stuck together. Nothing lonely about that.”
“Yep,” Ruby said happily. “Me and my brother.”
Forest came in through the front door carrying a stack of wood. “I’m back.”
I stuck my head out from the cove under the stairwell. “Do you need help?”
He dumped the logs into the cast-iron basket by the stove. “No thanks. Unless you want to take those cats off my hands.” He wiped his hands on his yellow-stained jacket before shrugging out of it and hanging it on the rack by the door.
I would gladly take a kitten home with me. If I weren’t leaving for three months at the beginning of the year, I’d take at least two. I could become a crazy cat lady and forget all about men.
Forest plopped down next to us on the floor and reached one large hand out to scoop up one of the tuxedo cats. He brought her to his face and looked into the kitten’s green eyes, then stroked her head. “I smell something good.”
“It’s our cookies cooling,” Ruby said. “Holly said we couldn’t frost them yet.”
“Are you hungry?” I asked Forest. “I could fix you something. A sandwich?”
“Nah, I can wait until dinner,” Forest said. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“What about the tree?” Ruby giggled as the orange kitten crawled under her shirt.
“Let’s do it after I shower.”
“We have to frost the cookies,” I said to the kids. “And I have to make the sauce.”
“You sure you don’t mind cooking?” Forest asked me.
“Not at all. Keeps me busy and not thinking about what I was supposed to be doing on this day.” I hadn’t expected to share, but this warm house and the cuteness of the kids and kittens had my guard down.
“What were you supposed to be doing?” Dane asked.
“Never mind,” Forest said. “You two go wash your hands before cookie-decorating time.”
Ruby set aside her kitten and scrambled to her feet. Dane did the same, and they both ran toward the kitchen.
“And no nibbling on cookies,” Forest called after them.
We were quiet for a moment, playing with the kittens.
“What were you supposed to be doing today?” Forest asked me.
“This was going to be my wedding day.” I looked at my watch. It was two already. “In a few hours from now I would have walked into the church and married the man I thought was my happy ever after. But my fiancé found someone he liked better than me.” I glanced over at Forest to see he’d stopped stroking the kitten and looked at me with new interest. “You’d know all about it if you had a TV or spent any time on the internet. That’s how I found out. I saw him with her on some gossip show.” The pain of that moment still lived in my chest.
“Is that why you were driving north?” Forest asked. “To escape?”
“Pretty much. I needed to be somewhere I could breathe. The photographers stalk me everywhere I go in LA. Especially after all this.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“It is.”
“Well, I’m glad you found us then,” Forest said. “You’ll never be lonely around here.”
“I’m sorry about your truck. I’ll get you a brand-new one if you want.”
He visibly bristled. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can pay to fix the dent. I don’t need a new one.” I needed to remember this was a proud man, one who wouldn’t take kindly to the idea of charity. “Americans,” he said under his breath.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I went immediately hot. Just when I’d thought this guy wasn’t all ill-tempered mountain man, he proved me wrong.
“Americans are obsessed with everything being new and shiny. Any small ding, you get rid of it instead of trying to fix it.”
I studied him for a moment. He picked up the orange kitten and gave it the same strokes he had the other one. This was a hard man to read. He claimed he couldn’t wait to get rid of the kittens, yet he treated them with such gentleness. What could those hands do to me?
I shivered. “I was only trying to make it right. If you don’t want a new truck, what’s it to me?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He nuzzled his chin against the kitten. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“I know the feeling.” I got up from the floor. “But for now I need to focus on getting a sauce going. They’re best if they simmer for a while.”
“Sure thing. I’m heading upstairs to shower. I’ll come down as soon as I’m done.”
I shivered again, imagining what he’d look like all lathered up with soap. What was wrong with me? I didn’t even like this man. My flesh was weaker than I thought. Thinking of him naked was not allowed. Or thinking of him at all, for that matter. Get your head on straight, girl.
After my sauce was simmering on the stove and the kids and Forest were outside doing chores in the barn, I called my manager. Marge Taylor was a battle-ax from old-school Hollywood. Hard on the inside and out, her unpublished tagline, the one she told only her clients, was: Large and in Charge Marge Has Your Back. She usually put the f-bomb in the middle there somewhere as well. I’d been with her for ten years now. There was no one I trusted more as a manager or a friend. She and her wife, Mary, had become family to me.
She picked up right away. “Hello, kid. Where are you?”
I told her where and how I’d come to be here. “My car won’t be fixed anytime soon, and I figured this was just as nice a place to lick my wounds as anywhere else. The house is fabulous.”
“Wait, back up to the part about the hot guy. You banged into his truck but he still invited you back to his inn?”
“Bed-and-breakfast. There’s no one else here. Apparently, the breakfast part of the offerings isn’t the best.” Had she called him hot? “How did you know he was hot?”
“I could hear it in your voice,” Marge said.
“He’s great but not my type. He has children.” I told her the story of how he came to have custody of his niece and nephew. “He’s actually really sweet even though he was a little grumpy at first.”
“You had just run into his truck.”
“Exactly. Forest’s kids are the cutest, too. I’m having so much fun with them.”
“His name’s Forest? That’s the best thing I’ve heard in weeks.”
I laughed. “In a weird way, he looks like his name. Did I tell you there’s no television in the house? No tablets or phones, except for Forest’s, of course. They play games like go fish and read books.”
“Sounds terrible,” Marge said.
“Only to us. They’re used to it. In fact, I like it here. I’ve been cooking a ton, which is very relaxing. Forest has two jobs to support the kids. He has to work at a bar to bring in extra cash.”
“He works at a bar? A foxy bartender? Perfect.”
“He’s actually an accountant. Bartending is his second gig. But like I said, he’s off-limits. I don’t want the kids to get hurt.”
“How hot is this guy?”
“Scorching. Rugged. Enormous. He hasn’t said but he seems like he must have played hockey in high school.”
“Even better.”
“Marge, I’m not going there.” Even though I’d already fantasized what it would be like if he sneaked into my room at night.
“You’re no fun.”
“I know. Anyway, say hello to Mary. I’m off now to finish up my sauce.”
“Spaghetti sauce? Interesting,” Marge said.
“Stop being a know-it-all.”
“Not possible. But I’ll let you go.”
“Talk to you later.” I hung up the phone and went to check on my sauce.
4
Forest
The scent of garlic, tomatoes, and Italian spices filled the house as I opened the boxes I’d carried down from the attic. To be festive, I’d built a fire in the stone fireplace and lit some candles on the mantel. During the remodel, my sister had put gas fireplaces in all the rooms but had kept the original family one here in the sitting room. A pile of shortbread cookies made that afternoon and a pot of tea were arranged on a tray.
I’d strung lights on the tree before the kids had gotten up this morning. I always cursed a lot and didn’t want them to hear. All in all, the fresh tree looked good. I loved the smell. Mixed with the simmering sauce, it smelled a whole lot like a family lived here.
As I dug out the ornaments for the kids to hang, Holly sat in the window seat near the tree watching the snow fall. She’d changed out of her skinny jeans into a loose pair with cuffed ankles, a red knit sweater, and fuzzy socks. I hated to admit it, but she looked good in my house. Especially now that she was dressed more appropriately for the weather.
“The snow’s so pretty,” Holly said, turning away from the window. “Do you guys ever get sick of it?”
“I do,” I said.
“Not me,” Dane said. “Plus, it makes it easier to spot winter birds.”
“Dane loves birds,” Ruby said.
“I love birds too,” Holly said. “But I don’t know anything about them.”
“I know a lot,” Dane said. “I can teach you.”
“That would be great.” Holly smiled before turning her gaze back to the window. She did her best to hide her sadness, but I could see it by the set of her mouth in the reflection of the glass.
“Holly, do you want to hang an ornament?” Ruby asked. “We have lots.”
Holly shook her head. “No, this is your family tradition. You two and your uncle should hang them. I’m enjoying watching.”
Too excited to finally be decorating, the kids didn’t argue. For the next thirty minutes, they chirped away as they worked. I did my best to hang a few ornaments on the upper branches, but we were bottom-heavy anyway.
“I’m surprised you didn’t have this decorated already,” Holly said. “Is trimming the tree on Christmas Eve a tradition with you?”
“No, Uncle Forest was too busy before now,” Ruby said. “He has a lot of work to do all the time.”
Holly rose from the window seat and stretched, lifting her sweater up over her taut stomach for a moment. I quickly looked away. It had been way too long since I’d been with a woman. Even spoiled actresses looked appealing. Who was I kidding? This particular actress was as sexy as they came. I especially liked her in her casual clothes. They softened her somewhat, made her seem more like an ordinary person. An ordinary, superhot person. “I’m going to check on the sauce and finish fixing dinner.”
By the time darkness had blocked out the falling snow, we’d finished decorating. The tree twinkled merrily next to the stone fireplace, putting even this old scrooge into the Christmas spirit. I sent the kids up to take baths before dinner. They clambered up the stairs talking excitedly about the food we’d soon have. I’d scarred them for life with my terrible cooking.
“Do you need help?” I asked Holly.
“No, you do your thing with the kids. I just have a few things to do before we’re ready to eat.” She padded across the room toward the kitchen.
The room seemed less bright without her in it. Weird observation. Never mind all that. This sparkling star was not mine to keep or even make a wish upon.
I went upstairs and drew a bath for Ruby. Dane was old enough now that he liked showers, saying baths were for babies.
I squirted some of the bath bubbles in and Ruby slipped under the water. Usually she played for a few minutes before I washed her hair, but tonight I felt compelled to return to my one and only guest. Just in case she needed anything. “How about hair first?”
“Sure.”
I filled the pitcher from the tap while she dipped her hair into the soapy water. She liked to pour a nickel-sized amount of shampoo into the palm of her small hand herself, so I waited patiently for her to lather up. When she was ready, she scrunched her eyes closed and waited for the pitcher of water to cascade over her head. I always had the towel ready for her. She liked to wipe her eyes right away. I’d suggested this solution when she rebelled about water in her face. By rebelled I mean started to cry. I hated it when she cried. Who knew if I was doing the right thing, but I offered up the pitcher as a compromise.
“Uncle Forest?”
“Yep?”
“How come you don’t have a wife?”
She’d never asked that before now. “I don’t know.”
“Would you like one? Someone to help with us?”
“If it were the right lady, yes.” As if I’d ever find one who was interested in a broke bachelor with two kids and a worthless ten acres in the middle of nowhere. Despite how cute my kids were, it was still a lot to accept.
“Do you think Holly’s pretty?”
I laughed. “Listen, little Miss Matchmaker. Whatever thoughts you have in that noggin of yours, put them aside. Holly Turner is a famous actress. She won’t be here for long.”
“But she seems to like it here.”
“How can you tell?” I asked.
“She kept saying how pretty it was and how much she liked the house and the kitchen. When we were making the cookies she told us she always wanted to have a family to make cookies with.”
“Doesn’t she have one?”
“Nope. Only her mom, but they don’t talk.”
I pondered all this information for a moment. “That’s nice that she said those things. But again, don’t get carried away with your active imagination. You got it?”
