Home For Christmas (A Copper Mountain Christmas) (3 page)

He motioned to the gingerbread houses. "Nice work."

She stood on the opposite side of the island. "Thanks."

"Are they gifts?"

The lines above her nose deepened. She picked up a bag full of white icing. "No."

"Planning to sell them?"

"Does it matter?"

A little defensive. He wondered why. "Just curious."

About the gingerbread, he reminded himself.

"I made a house for Ty. A friend of his saw it. She ordered one. Then another friend ordered another, and well, here I am."

"Nice way to earn extra cash."

Another nod. "We'll see how many more orders I get."

"I want one."

"Yours is on me. A thank you."

Not only pretty, but sweet. "Thanks."

"I'm the one who should thank you for letting me use this awesome kitchen."

"No worries. You're Ty's sister. That makes you family."

Family didn't date or lust after each other or imagine if she had a beauty mark like the one to the right of her mouth anywhere else on her body.

She adjusted the silver tip on the pastry bag. "That's nice of you to say."

"It's the truth. Your brother is a big reason the Bar V5 has been so successful." Ty's dedication over the years made Nate want to help Rachel. "Do you have a marketing plan yet?"

She held the icing bag in front of her, tip pointed at him like a weapon. "Why do you want to know?"

Her suspicious tone matched her stiff posture. Nate had no idea what was wrong, but time for damage control. "I was a venture capitalist before I came home and took over the ranch. I still invest if I see an opportunity."

She pressed her lips together. "No opportunity here."

"If you decide you want help—"

"I'm good. But thanks again for letting me use your kitchen. I'll be sure to clean up my mess before I leave with Ty this afternoon." She angled her shoulders away from Nate. "I'd better get back to work and leave you to yours."

Rachel didn't want his expertise. Fine. But Nate didn't like being dismissed in his own kitchen when he would rather stay and find out why she acted like he was a villain in a black hat when all he did was offer his help. She was off-limits by virtue of being Ty's sister, but that didn't mean Nate couldn't find out more about her.

Nah.

Sticking around and getting to know her any better would be a bad idea. He didn't want to piss off Ty. Might as well get to work. "Have fun baking."

Though having another taste of her gingerbread couldn't hurt. Not much anyway. Nate wondered if she would be willing to share…

CHAPTER TWO

Rachel leaned against the island counter, watching Nate Vaughn's retreating backside, relieved to see him go. Forget about wanting a nice guy in her life, even flirting was too strenuous for her bruised heart. She only wished she hadn't noticed how nicely Nate's jeans fit or how his leather jacket showed off wide shoulders or how the duffel bag he carried made her wonder where he'd spent last night.

None of those things should matter.

Not to her.

He might be show-off sexy with that razor stubble on his handsome face and an I'd-like-to-get-to-know-you-better smile, but she didn't need his business help or advice. She didn't want anything from him. Well, except the use of his kitchen.

Nate glanced over his shoulder, meeting her gaze straight on.

Busted for staring. Heat rose up her neck. Good thing she was flushed from the heat in the kitchen. Maybe her blush wouldn't give her away.

His lips curved into a wry grin.

Too late. Her face burned hotter. "Forget something?"

"If it's not too much trouble, save a piece of gingerbread for me."

By the time she finished baking, she would have platefuls of ends and cutouts. "No problem, as long as you don't mind the scraps."

"Don't mind at all. My hungry stomach won't know the difference."

She expected him to turn back. Walk away. Let her work.

Nate continued staring. He must want another look at the gingerbread houses. Except… she wet her lips… he was looking at her.

The hunger in his eyes made Rachel's blood simmer. His gaze ran the length of her slowly, appreciatively, like he wanted a taste of her.

Her heart thudded.

Something stirred inside Rachel. Excitement, yes. But also possibility.

He made her feel like an unexpected, but welcomed, guest at a cocktail party. That her flour-stained clothes were as appealing as a little black dress.

Did she dare let herself have some fun? Something missing from her life for a long time.

Self-preservation told her to look away. Run away would be better.

Safer.

She might not have dated many men, but she knew that look from the last cowboy who had broken her heart after Ty had broken his nose. Nate might be a great guy according to her brother, but she needed to keep her distance. She knew better than to think she could handle a man like Nate Vaughn.

Rachel cleared her dry throat. "Is there, um, anything else?"

"No."

He didn't look away. Or move.

She was transfixed herself.

Which made zero sense.

His dark chocolate eyes would not be good for her heart. His interest in her gingerbread would not be good for her peace of mind. His being a cowboy would make Ty go ballistic.

Rachel stared into a plastic container full of gumdrops. Green, red, yellow, purple and white. She imagined using the candies on the Brambly House B&B gingerbread replica she was designing, but Nate's sexy smile kept flashing in her mind, doing odd things to her tummy. Reminding her that people wanting to
help
was the reason her bakery belonged to someone else.

Footsteps sounded.

Rachel listened until the steps faded. She shot a glance at the doorway leading to the living area. Gone. She exhaled.

No one, especially a good-looking cowboy with an investment background, was going to play her for a fool.

Do you have a marketing plan? If you want any help or ideas…

She grimaced. She'd lost years of hard work thanks to America's favorite television baker, Pamela Darby, and her crook of a husband, Grayson. They'd acted like surrogate parents. Rachel had eaten up the attention and praise, never once realizing they were using her for their own gain until it was too late. She would not be taken advantage of again. She would focus on what needed to be done and forget everything else.

Including yummy Nate Vaughn.

After a quick shower and shave, Nate headed to the barn. A small staff worked year round to help with the cattle, horses and maintenance. Men he trusted to do the job whether he was here
or not. His female wrangler, Charlie, short for Charlotte, had gone to Colorado for the winter. Ty hadn't said whether she was returning in the spring.

Nate zipped his coat and lowered his hat to shield himself from the cold wind. No snowfall last night meant no shoveling the paths or plowing the driveway this morning, but he'd bet the creek and ponds froze over and would need to be opened. Again.

A dog barked, a sharp sound he knew well.

Dusty, an Australian Cattle dog, ran toward Nate. The dog, who belonged to his late father, rarely left Ty's side.

"Morning." Ty rounded a corner, carrying a pickaxe and wearing heavy, insulated outwear. A thin layer of ice covered his waterproof boots.

"Been busy?"

"Broke through the ice at the creek. There's plenty of water for the herd now. I told Zack to check the creek in a few hours if the temperature doesn't rise."

Zack Harris was a wrangler, who also taught shooting in the summer. He was a veteran with multiple deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan. Nate fell in step with Ty. "You get the work done before I think to ask."

"I'm the foreman. That's my job."

"You do it well. Too bad my father hadn't listen to you."

Ty's ready smile vanished. His serious face, reserved for sick animals and wayward sisters, appeared. "Your dad was a fine man. Stubborn as a mule, God rest his soul, Ralph Vaughn did what he thought best for the Bar V5. But I'm thankful you've listened to me. Or at least pretended to hear me."

"I hear you." Nate would not repeat his father's mistakes. If not for Ty, his dad would have lost the ranch and Nate would have never known until it was too late. "And I owe you."

"A paycheck, a room, and a place for my animals are all I need."

Ty put the cattle and horses above everything else, including his own comfort. Nate had moved a cot into the office in the barn when he learned Ty would sleep there if an animal were sick or injured. Ty could have his own cabin or a house at the ranch, too, but he chose a room in the bunkhouse with the wranglers instead.

He shot Nate a sideward glance. "How did the date go?"

"Bad. A text-a-holic."

"You weren't home when we got here."

Nate shoved his gloved hands in his pockets. He wasn't about to lie to his friend. "I stayed in a motel. Alone. Too many beers. Slept through my alarm. Got home later than planned."

"Sorry, bud."

"Yeah, but learned my lesson." The barn doors were open and the four-wheel drive tractor gone. "I'm only dating women I meet in person. Even if their pics look hot."

"Sometimes the hotter the woman, the less interested she is in kids. I'll put up with a lot of crap for that combo."

"This one was nothing but trouble." Not that hot, either. Rachel was more attractive. Nate adjusted his hat, as if the action could turn off that part of his brain thinking about Ty's sister. "Not the good kind of trouble."

"There's only one thing to say when this happens."

"What's that?"

"Next."

Nate laughed. Good advice. Except the next woman he would consider dating was the one woman he didn't dare ask out—Rachel. Mixing business with pleasure would not be a good idea. He would keep looking. New Year's Eve was still a few weeks away.

Ty entered the barn with Dusty trotting next to him.

Nate followed. The smell of hay and manure and tradition hung in the air. Gingerbread might smell like Christmas, but these were the scents of his childhood, of home.

An old black cat named Onyx rubbed against his boot.

Nate scratched behind the cat's ear. "Sure hope this cold spell ends."

"Me, too." Ty suspended the pickaxe between two hooks. "The horses are huddled in the pasture like an ice age is coming. But they'll be running through the snow as soon as the temperature warms up."

Cold weather brought challenges to the ranch, especially when feeding and watering animals. Nate checked the barn cats' water bowl. Full and not frozen. "Bet the cattle were hungry this morning."

"Lined up waiting for the hay to hit the ground." Ty tossed a dog treat and Dusty caught it mid-air. "They know exactly when it's feeding time. Just like this old guy."

As if on cue, the dog barked.

Ty's grin widened. "Damn dog's smarter than me."

"You said it, not me."

Ty's eyes, the same color as Rachel's, brightened. He gave the dog a pat on the head. "See, even the boss agrees with me."

Dusty's tail wagged furiously.

Nate observed more similarities between the Murphy siblings. Same chin. Same forehead. Same head tilt. Maybe if Rachel smiled as readily as her brother, Nate would have guessed they were related. "I met your sister."

"She's a great kid."

"Not really a kid." Behind a wheelbarrow, yellow eyes stared at him. One of the newer feral cats he'd received from the rescue shelter in Bozeman. He reached in his jacket pocket and tossed cat treats to Onyx. Then he threw pieces farther away. One by one, cats dashed out to grab one. "The way you talk about Rachel makes her sound so young. Eighteen or nineteen."