Betting On Santa. Debra Salonen

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СКАЧАТЬ anybody. I only want to do the right thing for my nephew. I know what it’s like to grow up without a father.”

      Grow up without a father. Same as Cole. Something he wouldn’t wish on anybody. “Where’d you say you were staying?”

      “The Trail’s End Motel. We haven’t checked in, but they should be holding a room. I paid for it online with my credit card.”

      “You should be okay. Things are slow this time of year and I know the desk clerk, Barney. How ’bout if I drive you there, then go after your car?”

      He closed the door without waiting for an answer. By the time he started the engine, she had her eyes closed. Her chin brushed the top of her nephew’s head when they hit a pothole.

      Even driving slowly, it only took a few minutes to reach the small, cottage-style motel across the street from the Medina River. He pulled up to the office and parked.

      Tessa lifted her head.

      “Wait here,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll get you registered.” He opened the door and got out but returned a second later. “I’m sorry, Tessa. I forgot your last name.”

      “Jamison.”

      “Got it. I’ll be right back.”

      He dashed into the overly heated reception anteroom. As expected, the man behind the counter was hunched over his computer and barely glanced up—until it hit him that the person resting his elbows on the counter wasn’t a tourist.

      “Cole. What the heck are you doing here?” Barney asked. “You know we don’t rent rooms by the hour.”

      “You’re quite the joker, man, but no, that’s not why I’m here.”

      “Are you gonna invite me to the poker game? You could have called. You didn’t need to stop by.”

      Cole glanced out the window at the woman who was watching them. “You’re holding a room for a friend. Tessa Jamison. She said she put it on her credit card. If you give me the right price, then I’ll guarantee you a spot at the table.”

      Barney returned to his computer. “I was wondering what happened to her. She’s a friend of yours?”

      “Yep. Her and her boy. They stopped by the holiday bazaar and we got talking.”

      “Is she staying just the one night?”

      Cole had no idea. She’d suggested they talk in the morning, but he had to work. Maybe she planned to stick around, but with Sunny in hospital, more than likely she’d be heading back to the city right away.

      “She’ll let you know in the morning. Her kid is asleep and I told her people in this town don’t stand on protocol. That’s not a problem, right?”

      Barney frowned. “Are you trying to get me fired?”

      “Your mother wouldn’t do that to you, Barn, and you know it. Besides, it’s almost Christmas.”

      Barney snickered. “I heard about you playing Santa. Not exactly type-casting, was it?”

      “I’m gonna be an uncle in a few months. I’m thinking of this as on-the-job training. Come on, Barney, what’s a little paperwork among friends?”

      It took some more wheedling, since Barney insisted he needed her photo ID and vehicle license number, but Cole finally got a room key. He hurried back to the car and hopped in. “Straight ahead. Number five. I’ll pick up your car while you put Joey to bed.”

      “Are you sure? We can walk to it in the morning. You seem to favor one foot. I hate to put you out.”

      Shit. She’d noticed his limp. I must be more tired than I thought. Usually, his ankle only bothered him after a long day of car-pentry. Of course, today he’d worked all day then bounced little kids on his knee for a couple of hours. “I’m fine. Occupational hazard.”

      He parked in front of the small cabin. A rustic overhead fixture gave off just enough light for him to see the lock. He opened the door then stepped inside to turn on the light. He waited while she laid the sleeping child on the double bed.

      She carefully removed the toddler’s jacket and shoes before pulling the covers over him. Standing, she arched her back slightly and let out a sigh. “I didn’t realize how heavy he could get. I’m not sure I would have made it if we’d had to walk. And he’s a real bear when you wake him up to put him into his car seat.”

      “No problem. If you give me your key, I’ll run after your car. Make and color?”

      She sat on the bed closest to the door and opened her purse. “White Toyota Camry. With a baby seat in the back. Please don’t wreck the car. I had to sign a waiver that said only I would drive it.”

      “It’s five blocks. I guarantee it’ll be fine.”

      “But they’re big, Texas blocks,” she said, dropping the keys into his outstretched palm.

      He saw a sparkle of humor in her eyes that surprised him—and made him even more curious about her. He was beginning to see a bit of Sunny in her.

      He pocketed the keys and left. His ankle was sore—he could tell it was swollen—but he needed this time to think.

      Sunny. A sweet kid who drifted through his life right at the exact moment when the proverbial shit hit the fan. He’d helped her out of an uncomfortable situation, found her a job and a place to live. She’d repaid the favor by listening to his ridiculously stupid tale of love, loss, greed and corruption. She’d seen him at his lowest. She’d offered friendship and a shoulder to cry on one night. That was all he remembered them sharing—even if he had woken up in her bed the next morning.

      “Why didn’t you talk to me about this, Sunny girl,” he muttered, trying to coax a clear memory from the haze. He’d blocked out a lot about that time.

      The memories scattered the instant his phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket, pausing to check the caller ID. Annie. Two years his senior. Friend, mentor, nag, sister.

      “Hey, Anster. Everything okay with junior or juniorette?”

      “Yes, the baby is safely on board. That’s not why I called.”

      Annie and her husband, Blake Smith, who was one of Cole’s closest friends, had overcome separation, a miscarriage and Annie’s second marriage. Finally, things seemed to be working in their favor. She was happily—healthfully—pregnant.

      “Good. Then I’ll get back to you later. I’m busy.”

      “Oh, please. How busy can you be? Mom said you just left the bazaar. This isn’t San Antonio, where you actually have to deal with traffic. Although it doesn’t sound like you’re in your truck. Where are you?”

      “Getting gas,” he lied. “Why’d you call?”

      “I saw Jake today. When I asked him about the Card, he kinda gave me the brush-off. Have you heard any more about what he intends to do with the place?”

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