Christmas in Cold Creek. RaeAnne Thayne

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СКАЧАТЬ His town. Yeah, it might sound like something out of an old Western, but he loved this little slice of western heaven. He’d had offers from bigger departments around Idaho and even a couple out of state. A few of them were tempting, he couldn’t deny that. But every time he thought about leaving Pine Gulch, he thought about all the things he would have to give up. His family, his heritage, the comfort of small traditions like breakfast at The Gulch after an overnight shift. The sacrifices seemed too great.

      â€œThanks for coming with us,” Destry said, reining her tough little paint pony next to his mare.

      â€œMy pleasure. Thanks for asking me, kid.” His niece was turning into a good rider. Ridge had set her on the back of a horse from just about the moment she could walk and it showed. She had a confident seat, an easy grace, that had already won her some junior rodeo competitions.

      â€œAre you finally going to put up a tree this year, Uncle Trace?”

      â€œI don’t know. Seems like a lot of trouble when it’s only me.”

      He hated admitting that but it was true. He was tired of being alone. A year ago, he thought he was ready to settle down. He’d even started dating Easton Springhill. From here, he could see across the canyon and up to where she ran her family’s place, Winder Ranch.

      Easton wasn’t for him. Some part of him had known it even as he’d tried to convince himself otherwise. Just how wrong she’d been for him had become abundantly clear when Cisco Del Norte came back to town and he saw for himself just how much Easton loved the man.

      The two of them were deliriously happy now. They had adopted a little girl, who was just about the cutest thing he’d ever seen, all big eyes and curly black hair and dimples, and Easton was expecting a baby in the spring. While Trace still wasn’t crazy about Cisco, he had to admit the guy made Easton happy.

      He had tried to convince himself he was in love with Easton but he recognized now that effort had been mostly based on hope. Oh, he probably could have fallen in love with her if he’d given a little more effort to it. Easton was great—warm and compassionate and certainly beautiful enough. They could have made a good life together here, but theirs would never have been the fierce passion she shared with Cisco.

      A passion he couldn’t help envying.

      Maybe he would always be the bachelor uncle. It wasn’t necessarily a bad role in life, he thought as Destry urged her pony faster on the trail.

      â€œAlmost there!” she exclaimed, her face beaming.

      A few moments later they reached the thickly forested border of the ranch. Destry was quick to lead the way to the tree she had picked out months ago and marked with an orange plastic ribbon, just as their mother used to do.

      Ridge cut the tree quickly with his chain saw while Destry looked on with glee. Caidy and a couple of her dogs had come up, as well—Trace had left Grunt, the ugly little French bulldog he’d inherited from Wally Taylor, back at the ranch house since the dog couldn’t have kept up with the horses on his stubby little legs.

      His sister didn’t help cut down the tree, only stood on the outskirts of the forest, gazing down at town.

      â€œHow about you?” his brother asked. “You want us to cut one for you while we’re up here?”

      His brother asked every year and every year Trace gave the same answer. “Not much sense when it’s just me. Especially since I’ll be working through Christmas anyway.”

      Since he didn’t have a family, he always tried to work overtime so his officers who did could have a little extra time off to spend with their children.

      Caidy glanced over at them and he saw his own melancholy reflected in her eyes. Christmas was a hell of a time for the Bowman family. It probably always would be. He hated that she felt she had to hide away from life here with the horses and the dogs she trained.

      â€œHey, do you think we could cut an extra tree down for my friend?” Destry asked him.

      â€œI don’t mind. You’ll have to ask your dad, though.”

      â€œAsk me what?” Ridge asked, busy tying the sled to his saddle for his horse to pull down the mountain.

      â€œI wanted to give a tree to one of my friends.”

      â€œThat shouldn’t be a problem. We’ve got plenty of trees. But are you sure her family doesn’t already have one?”

      Destry shook her head. “She said they might not even put up a tree this year. They don’t have very much money. They just moved to Pine Gulch and I don’t think she likes it here very much.”

      Trace felt the same sort of tingle in his fingertips he always got when something was about to break on a case. “What’s this friend’s name?”

      â€œGabi. Well, Gabrielle. Gabrielle Parsons.”

      Of course. Somehow he’d known, even before Destry told him the name. He thought of the pretty, inept waitress with the secrets in her eyes and of the girl who had sat reading her book with such solemn concentration in the midst of the morning chaos at The Gulch.

      â€œI met her the other day. She and her mother moved in near my house.”

      Both Ridge and Caidy gave him matching looks of curiosity and he shrugged. “She’s apparently old Wally Taylor’s granddaughter. He left the house to her, though I gather they didn’t have much of a relationship.”

      â€œYou really do know everything about what goes on in Pine Gulch,” Caidy said with an admiring tone.

      Trace tried his best to look humble. “I try. Actually, the mother is waitressing at The Gulch. I stopped there the other day for breakfast and ended up with the whole story from Donna.”

      â€œWhat you’re saying, then,” Ridge said, his voice dry, “is that Donna is the one in town who knows when every dog lifts his leg on a fire hydrant.”

      Trace grinned. “Yeah. So? A good police officer knows how to cultivate sources wherever he can find them.”

      â€œSo can we cut a tree for Gabrielle and her mom?” Destry asked impatiently.

      He remembered the secrets in the woman’s eyes and her unease around him. He had thought about her several times in the few days since he saw her at the diner and his curiosity about why she had ended up in Pine Gulch hadn’t abated whatsoever. He had promised himself he would try to be a good neighbor. What was more neighborly than delivering a Christmas tree?

      â€œI don’t see the problem with that. I can drop it off on my way home. Help me pick a good one for them.”

      Destry gave a jubilant cheer and grabbed his hand. “I saw the perfect one before. Come on, over here.”

      She dragged him about twenty feet away, stopping in front of a bushy blue spruce. “How about this one?”

      The tree easily topped nine feet СКАЧАТЬ