Christmas On Crimson Mountain

Love On The Mountain

Peace and quiet—that’s all Connor Pierce wanted from the rented cabin on Crimson Mountain. Yet the caretaker turned out to be lovely April Sanders—a total distraction. As were the two little girls she was caring for. Connor’s plan to forget his painful past soon detoured into giving the ladies a Christmas to remember.

Being named guardian of two motherless girls has upended April’s world. Add to the mix a mysterious, brooding writer claiming he wanted to be left alone while going out of his way to bring a little joy to the girls, and she has quite the quandary. April had counted herself out of a happy ending. But maybe Santa still had a few surprises up his merry old sleeve...

“And it’s going to be fun, so prepare yourself.” April said the words so softly, he barely heard her.

Something in his chest loosened, and it was easier to flash her a genuine smile. “Are you insinuating I’m not fun?”

She let out a little huff of laughter. “Of course not. Connor Pierce, life of the party.”

“Thank you, April.” He wanted to say more, to assure her he’d thought this through and it was a good idea. But he hadn’t, and as insignificant as a visit to town seemed, the weight of it suddenly crashed over him, making it difficult to catch his breath. He opened the door, the biting cold air a welcome distraction.

Fun was no longer part of his repertoire, so he had five minutes to retrieve parts of himself that he’d shut away after the accident. He’d asked for this, and he had to figure out a way to manage it. It was one afternoon in a small mountain town. How difficult could it be?

* * *

Crimson, Colorado: Finding home—and forever—in the West

Christmas on Crimson Mountain

Michelle Major

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MICHELLE MAJOR grew up in Ohio but dreamed of living in the mountains. Soon after graduating with a degree in journalism, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Her life and house are filled with one great husband, two beautiful kids, a few furry pets and several well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her passion writing stories with happy endings. Michelle loves to hear from her readers at www.michellemajor.com.

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For my fierce and feisty sister-in-law, Jenny.

One of the best perks of marrying your

brother was getting you as friend.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“It’s so white.”

April Sanders flicked a glance in the rearview mirror as she drove along the winding road up Crimson Mountain.

Her gaze landed on the sullen twelve-year-old girl biting down on her bottom lip as she stared out the SUV’s side window.

“It’s pretty, right?” April asked hopefully. “Peaceful?” She’d come to love the mountains in winter, especially on days without the sunny skies that made Colorado famous. The muted colors brought a stillness to the forest that seemed to calm something inside of her.

“It’s white,” Ranie Evans repeated. “White is boring.”

“I like snow,” Ranie’s sister, Shay, offered from her high perch in the booster seat. Shay was almost five, her personality as sunny as Ranie’s was sullen.

April didn’t blame Ranie for her anger. In the past month, the girls had been at their mother’s side as she’d lost her fight with cancer, then spent a week on their aunt’s pullout couch before they’d landed in Colorado with April.

Even this wasn’t permanent. At least that’s what April told herself. The idea of raising these two girls, as their mother’s will had stipulated, scared her more than anything she’d faced in life. More than her own battle with breast cancer. More than a humiliating divorce from her famous Hollywood director husband. More than rebuilding a shell of a life in the small mountain town of Crimson, Colorado. More than—

“Can we make a snowman at the cabin?” Shay asked, cutting through April’s brooding thoughts.

“You don’t want to go outside,” Ranie cautioned her sister. “Your fingers will freeze off.”

“No one’s fingers are freezing off,” April said quickly, hearing Shay’s tiny gasp of alarm. “You’ve both got winter gear now, with parkas and mittens.” The first stop after picking up the girls at Denver International Airport had been to a nearby sporting-goods store. April had purchased everything they’d need for the next two weeks in the mountains. “Of course we can build a snowman. We can build a whole snow family if you want.”

“What we want is to go back to California.”

April didn’t need another check in the rearview mirror. She could feel Ranie glaring at her from the backseat, every ounce of the girl’s ill temper focused on April.

“Mom took us to the beach every Christmas. Why wouldn’t Aunt Tracy take us to Hawaii with her? Why couldn’t you come to Santa Barbara? You used to live in LA. I remember you from when I was little and Mom first got sick.”

April tightened her grip on the steering wheel as memories of her friend Jill rushed over her. Taking the turn around one of the two-lane road’s steep switchbacks, she punched the accelerator too hard and felt the tires begin to spin as they lost traction.

Ignoring the panicked shrieks from the backseat, she eased off the gas pedal and corrected the steering, relieved to feel the SUV under her control again.

“It’s okay,” she assured the girls with a forced smile. April was still adjusting to driving during Colorado winters. “The road is icy up here, but we’re close to the turnoff for the cabin.” She risked another brief look and saw that Ranie had reached across the empty middle seat to take Shay’s hand, both girls holding on like the lifeline they were to each other.

It broke April’s heart.

She pulled off onto the shoulder after turning up the recently plowed gravel drive that led to Cloud Cabin. The quasi “remote wilderness experience” was an offshoot of Crimson Ranch, the popular guest ranch in the valley, and had opened earlier in the fall. The owners happened to be April’s best friend, movie actress Sara Travers, and her husband, Josh. April had first come to Crimson with Sara three years ago, both women burned out and broken down by their lives in Hollywood.

April knew this town could heal someone when they let it. Crimson—and Josh’s love—had done that for Sara. April also recognized that she’d held herself back from the community and hadn’t truly become a part of it.

Throwing the SUV into Park, she turned to the backseat and met the wary gazes of each of her late friend’s precious girls. “I’m sorry your aunt couldn’t change her plans for the holidays.” She took a deep breath as frustration over Tracy’s callous attitude toward her nieces threatened to overtake her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come to California for these weeks. I have a work commitment here that can’t be changed.”

“I thought you were a yoga teacher.” Ranie snatched her fingers away from Shay’s grasp. “Who does yoga in the snow?”

“No one I know.” April wanted to unstrap her seat belt, crawl into the backseat and gather the surly girl into her arms and try to hug away some of the pain pouring off her. “There’s a guest coming to stay at the cabin for Christmas. I need to get there and make sure everything is in order before he arrives. He’s a writer and needs to finish a book. He wants the privacy of the mountains to concentrate.”

She was already behind, the detour to the airport in Denver pushing back her arrival at Cloud Cabin a few hours. “My job is to cook for him, manage the housekeeping and—”

Ranie offered her best preteen sneer. “Like you’re a maid?”

“Like I take care of people,” April corrected.

“Like you’re taking care of us because Mommy died.” Shay’s voice was sad but still sweet.

“I am, honey,” April whispered around the ball of emotion clogging her throat. She smiled at Ranie, but the girl’s eyes narrowed, as if she knew being with April was anything but a sure bet for their future.

April turned up the brightness of her smile as she looked at Shay. “Only about a quarter mile more.” She turned to the front and flipped on the radio, tuning it to a satellite station that got reception even in this remote area. “How about some holiday music? Do either of you have a favorite Christmas song?”

“‘Rudolph,’” Shay shouted, clapping her hands.

April pulled the SUV back onto the snow-packed road. “How about you, Ranie?”

“I hate Christmas music,” the girl muttered, then added, “but not as much as I hate you.”

Despite the jab to her heart, April ignored the rude words. She turned up the volume and sang along until the cabin came into view. A driver was bringing Connor Pierce, who was flying into the Aspen airport, to the cabin. The fact that the windows were dark gave her hope that she’d caught at least one break today, and he hadn’t arrived before her.

April needed every advantage she could get if she was going to successfully manage these next two weeks.

* * *

“No kids.”

Connor Pierce growled those two words as soon as the willowy redhead walked into the kitchen.

Maybe he should have waited to speak until she’d spotted him standing in front of the window. Unprepared, she’d jumped into the air, dropping the bag of groceries as she clutched one hand to her chest.

Her wide brown eyes met his across the room, a mix of shock and fear in her gaze. Scaring a woman half to death was a new low for Connor, but he couldn’t stop. “They need to go,” he snapped, fists clenched at his side. “Now.”

To the woman’s credit, she recovered faster than he would have expected, placing a hand on the back of a chair as she straightened her shoulders. “Who are you?”

The fact that she didn’t scurry away in the face of his anger was also new. Most people he knew would have turned tail already. “What kind of question is that?”

Her eyes narrowed. “The kind I expect you to answer.”

“I’m the paying guest,” he said slowly, enunciating each word.

“Mr. Pierce?” She swallowed and inclined her head to study him more closely. He didn’t care for the examination.

“Connor.”

“You don’t look like the photo on your website.”

“That picture was taken a long time ago.” Back when he was overweight and happy and his heart hadn’t been ripped out of his chest. When he could close his eyes and not see a car engulfed in flames, not feel his own helplessness like a vise around his lungs.

She didn’t question him, although curiosity was a bright light in her eyes. Instead, she smiled. “Welcome to Colorado. I’m sorry you got to the cabin before me.” She bent to retrieve the groceries, quickly refilling the cloth bag she’d dropped. “I was told your flight arrived later this afternoon.”

The smile threw him, as did her easy manner. “I took an earlier one.”

After placing the bag on the counter, she walked forward, her hand held out to him. “I’m April Sanders. I’ll be making sure your stay at Cloud Cabin is everything you want it to be.”

“I want the kids gone.” He didn’t take her hand, even though it was rude. She was tall for a woman but still several inches shorter than him. Her long hair was pulled back in a low knot, revealing the smooth, pale skin of her neck above the down coat she wore. The light in her eyes dimmed as her hand dropped.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I saw you come in,” he said, hitching a finger toward the window overlooking the front drive. “Are those your daughters?”

She shook her head.

“They can’t be here.”

“They aren’t here. They’re with me in the smaller cabin next door.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Their voices had drifted up to him when the girls spilled out of the car. The older one, her dark blond hair in a tight braid down her back, had kept her shoulders hunched, arms crossed over her chest as she took in the forest around the house. Connor had felt an unwanted affinity to her. Clearly, she was as reluctant to be trapped in this idyllic winter setting as he was.

It was the younger girl, bright curls bouncing as she pointed at the two log cabins situated next to each other on the property, who had brought unwanted memories to the surface. She’d given a squeal of delight when a rogue chipmunk ran past the front of the SUV. Her high-pitched laugh had raked across Connor’s nerves, making him want to claw at his own skin to stop the sensation.

She was dangerous, that innocent girl, threatening his stability on a bone-deep level. “I’m at this cabin to work.” He kept his gaze on the window. “I need privacy.”

“I’ll make sure you have it.”

“Not with kids around.”

She’d moved so quietly Connor didn’t realize April Sanders was standing toe-to-toe with him until he turned back. Up close, with the afternoon light pouring over her, she looked young and too innocent. He’d never seen anything as creamy as her skin, and he had a sudden urge to trace his finger along her cheek and see for himself if it was as soft as it looked.

It was a ridiculous thought. Connor didn’t touch people if he could help it. Not for three years, since that drive along the California coast when he’d held his wife’s hand for the last time.

Although he knew it to be untrue, he’d come to believe he could hold on to the memory of his wife and son more tightly if he kept himself cut off from physical contact with anyone else. He’d never felt the need before now.

The fact that this woman—a stranger—made him want to change was almost as terrifying as the deadline looming over his head. He took a step back.

“They have no place else to go,” she said, the gentle cadence of her voice at odds with the desperate plea he didn’t want to see in her eyes. “I promise I’ll keep them out of your way.”

Connor stepped around her, reaching for the sheet of paper on the table at the same time he dug in his pocket for his cell phone. “I’m calling Sara Travers.”

“No.” April snatched the paper with the contact information for Crimson Ranch out of his hand. “You can’t.” The sheer audacity of the action gave him pause.

“Are you going to hold me here against my will?” He almost laughed at the thought of it, but Connor also hadn’t laughed in a longer time than he cared to remember. “I’ll call my editor. He’ll contact Sara. I assume she’s your boss?”

“Please don’t.” Her voice hitched on the plea, making alarm bells clang in Connor’s brain.

“You’re not going to cry,” he told her. “Tell me you’re not going to cry.”

She took a breath, blinked several times. “Sara is my boss at the ranch, but she’s also my friend. She and Josh just left for a holiday vacation, and I don’t want her to worry.” April’s voice had gone even gentler, almost defeated. Another long-buried emotion grated at his nerves. “She doesn’t know about Ranie and Shay yet. If you tell her...”

“She’ll make you get rid of them?” he asked, allowing only a hint of triumph to slip into his tone.

“She’ll want me to keep them.”

He was intrigued despite himself. “Who are those girls to you?” When she only stared at him, Connor placed his cell phone on the table. He couldn’t believe he was considering the possibility but he said, “Tell me why I should let them stay.”

Chapter Two

April’s mind raced as Connor crossed his arms over his chest, biceps bunching under his gray Berkeley T-shirt. He was nowhere near the man she’d expected to be working for the next two weeks at Cloud Cabin.

Connor Pierce was a famous author—not quite on a par with John Grisham, but a worthy successor if you believed the reviews and hype from his first two books. She’d checked his website after Sara had asked her to take on this job as a personal favor.

April had worked full-time at Crimson Ranch when she and Sara had first arrived in Colorado. Although in the past year the yoga classes she taught at the local community center and at a studio between Crimson and nearby Aspen had taken up most of her time, she’d booked off these two weeks. April had been a yoga instructor, as well as a certified nutritionist, to Hollywood starlets and movie actors before her life in California imploded. Apparently Connor Pierce had an extremely stringent and healthy diet, and April felt more comfortable than the ranch’s new chef in tailoring her cooking to specific requests.

Based on his publicity photo, Connor was a pudgy, bearded man with a wide grin, so the strict dietary requirements his editor had forwarded hadn’t quite made sense. They did for the man in front of her. He was over six feet tall, with dark hair and piercing green eyes in a face that was at once handsome and almost lethal in its sharp angles. As far as she could tell, he was solid muscle from head to toe and about as friendly as a grizzly bear woken from hibernation.

“Ranie and Shay lost their mother last month and their dad has never been in the picture. Jill was an old friend of mine and gave me custody of the girls when she died.” She took a deep breath, uncomfortable with sharing something so personal with this seemingly emotionless man. “I can’t possibly keep them, but—”

“Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” she muttered.

He raised one eyebrow in response.

She grabbed the bag of groceries and walked toward the cabinets and refrigerator to put them away as she spoke. “The girls have family in California they should be with on a permanent basis. I’m not a good bet for them.” She ignored the trembling in her fingers, forcing herself to keep moving. “They’re with me temporarily over the holidays, but I can’t send them away. If it’s such a problem, we’ll go. I’ll get you settled, then Sara will find—”

“They can stay.”

April paused in the act of putting a bag of carrots into the refrigerator. Connor still stood across the kitchen, arms folded. His green eyes revealed nothing.

“Why?” she couldn’t help but ask, closing the refrigerator door and taking two steps toward him. “What made you change your mind?”

“Now who asks too many questions?” He ran a hand through his short hair. “Just keep them quiet and out of my way. I’m over seven months behind on the deadline for my next book. I have until the first of the year to turn in this book before they terminate my contract and...”

“And?”

“I’m here to work,” he answered, which wasn’t an answer at all. “I need to concentrate.”

She nodded, not wanting to push her luck with this enigmatic man. “The food you requested is stocked in the pantry and refrigerator. Cell service is spotty up here, but there are landlines in both cabins. I’ll have dinner ready for you at six unless you call. You won’t even know we’re here with you.” Grabbing the empty cloth sack from the counter, she started past him.

He reached for her, the movement so quick it startled her. She stared at the place where his fingers encircled her wrist, warmth seeping through the layers she wore. It was odd because for such a cold man, his touch almost burned.

“I’ll know you’re here,” he said, his voice a rough scrape across her senses. “But keep the girls away from me.”

“I will,” she promised. Something in his tone told her his demand was more than a need for quiet so he could work.

He released his hold on her a second later and she left, stopping outside as the cold air hit her. She took a couple of breaths to calm her nerves. Yes, she’d have to tell Sara about Ranie and Shay, but not yet. Not until April could find a way to do it without revealing how weak and broken she still was.

And that could take a while.

She hurried across the snow-packed drive, worried that she’d left the girls alone for too long. The cabin was quiet when she entered through the side door.

The caretaker’s cabin was much smaller than Cloud Cabin, which had been built to house family reunions and groups of guests who wanted a wilderness experience away from town. In addition to the oversized kitchen, Connor had his choice of five bedrooms, including two master suites, a huge family room and a game room, plus a workout area in the basement. There was a big patio out back with a fire pit and hot tub, but April had a hard time picturing Connor relaxing in the steam and bubbles. It was also better if she didn’t try to picture him bare chested because, despite his surly attitude, she’d felt a definite ripple of attraction to Connor Pierce. That was a recipe for disaster.

The girls weren’t in the kitchen so she headed upstairs. In this cabin there were only two bedrooms, on either side of the narrow hallway. Sara and Josh had built it to accommodate the small staff needed when there were guests on-site. While construction had been completed in late summer, they’d only taken a few bookings for the fall and hadn’t expected anyone to be staying here over the winter months. It wasn’t exactly easy to access, although maybe that’s what appealed to Connor—or at least to his editor. April knew his debut book had been made into a movie and the sequel was set to release in the spring. She imagined there was a lot of pressure for another blockbuster in the series.

The door to the second bedroom was closed and she had to press her ear to it before she heard voices inside. Both girls looked up when she walked in. “It was so quiet I thought you two might be napping.”

Ranie rolled her eyes. “I’m twelve. I don’t take naps.”

Shay smiled. “I do sometimes, but not today. Mommy used to nap a lot.”

April remembered how tired the cancer treatments had made her. All that medicine to make things better, but there were difficult side effects at every stage. “What are you doing?”

Shay held up a tangle of yarn. “I’m finger knitting. I can make you a scarf if you want.”

“I’d like that,” April said, coming forward to sit on the edge of the other twin bed. “Who taught you to knit?”

“Mommy taught Ranie, and Ranie taught me.” Shay pointed to her sister’s lap. “She’s really good. She can use needles and everything.”

April placed her hand lightly on Ranie’s knee. “May I see?”

The girl stood up abruptly, shoving what was in her hands into a bag. “I’m not that great. Mostly my rows are crooked. It was just something to do when we sat with Mom.”

April tried not to let the girl’s constant rejection hurt her, but it was difficult. Ranie looked so much like Jill. “Your mom sent me a sweater one year for Christmas,” she told Shay, aware Ranie was listening even as she pretended to ignore them. “I have it with me if you’d like to see.”

“Mommy made the best sweaters.” Shay tugged her fingers out of the yarn, which to April’s eyes looked more like a knot than a scarf. “I mess up a lot.”

April reached for the deep red yarn, but Ranie stepped forward and snatched it away. “You’re getting better, Shay.” She stretched out the jumble until April could see where it almost resembled a scarf. “I’ll unknot this and you can keep going.”

Shay beamed. “Ranie is the best. She can teach you, too.”

“I’d like that.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Ranie asked, flipping her long braid over her shoulder. “Taking care of the big-shot author?”

“I’ll have time,” April told her. “Would either of you like a snack before I start prepping dinner?”

“Can we make the snowman now?” Shay asked, going on her knees to look out the window above the bed.

April thought about the promise she’d made to Connor Pierce. “Because Mr. Pierce is writing a book, he’s going to need quiet. I know it’s fun to play in the snow, but—”

“I can be real quiet,” Shay assured her, not turning from the window. “Ranie and me had to stay quiet when Mommy was sick.”

“Ranie and I,” April and Ranie corrected at the same time.

When April offered a half smile, Ranie turned away. April sighed. Between the cabin’s grumpy houseguest and her own ill-tempered charge, this was going to be the longest two weeks of her life. “Maybe it would be better if we found things to do inside the house.”

“He doesn’t want us here,” Ranie said, her tone filled with righteous accusation. “That’s why we have to be quiet. He doesn’t want us.”

April would have liked to kick Connor Pierce in the shin or another part of his anatomy right now. “He needs to concentrate,” she said instead, wanting to make it better for these girls who’d lost so much and were now in a strange state and a strange cabin with a woman who had been their mother’s friend but little to them. “It isn’t about you two.”

“So we can’t go out in the snow?” Shay shifted so she was facing April. “We have to stay inside the whole time? That’s kind of boring.”

Feeling the weight of two different stares, April pressed her fingers to her temples. She should call Sara right now and find someone else for this job, except then she’d have to make holiday plans for these girls. Her work here was a distraction, different enough from real life that she could keep the two separate. It was too much to think of making Ranie and Shay a part of her world. What if they fit? What if she wanted to try for something she knew she couldn’t manage?

A remote cabin and its temperamental guest might be a pain, but at least it was safe. Still, she couldn’t expect the girls to entertain themselves for two weeks in this small cabin, and neither could Connor.

“Get your snow gear from the shopping bags I left in the front hall,” she said after a moment. “As long as we’re not making a ton of noise, we can play in the snow as much as you want.”

“Mommy liked to rest,” Shay said, too much knowledge in her innocent gaze. “Sometimes the medicine gave her headaches, so we know how to be quiet.” She wrapped her arms around April for a quick, surprising hug and then scrambled off the bed.

“I’ll get your stuff, too,” she told Ranie before running from the room. “We’re going to build a snowman.” April could hear the girl singing as she went down the steps.

Ranie was still glaring at her, so April kept her tone light. “I’d better put on another layer. My sweater and coat are warm but not if we’re going to be outside for a while.”

“It’s me, right?” Ranie’s shoulders were a narrow block of tension.

“What’s you?”

“The author doesn’t want me around,” Ranie said, almost as if she was speaking to herself. “It can’t be Shay. Everyone loves Shay.”

“It isn’t about either of you.” April risked placing a hand on Ranie’s back, surprised when the girl didn’t shrug it off. “He’s here to work.”

“Aunt Tracy bought Shay a new swimsuit,” Ranie mumbled, sinking down to the bed.

“For a trip to Colorado in December?”

The girl gripped the hem of her shirt like she might rip it apart. “She wanted to take her to Hawaii with their family.”

April shook her head. “No, your aunt told me the trip was only her, your uncle Joe and the boys.”

“Tyler and Tommy are annoying,” Ranie said.

April smiled a little. “I imagine nine-year-old twin boys can be a handful.”

“I guess Aunt Tracy always wanted a little girl,” Ranie told her, “because I overheard Mom talking to her toward the end. She’d wanted us to live with Tracy, but Tracy would only agree to having Shay.” Her voice grew hollow. “She didn’t want me.”

“Oh, Ranie, no,” April whispered, even as the words rang true. Jill’s sister had been just the type of woman to be willing to keep one girl and not the other. How could April truly judge when she couldn’t commit to either of them?

But she knew the girls had to stay together. “I talked to your aunt before they left on their trip. It’s only for the holidays. We have a meeting scheduled with an attorney the first week of January to start the process of transferring custody. She’s going to take you both in the New Year. You’ll be back in California and—”

“She doesn’t want me.” Ranie looked miserable. “No one does now that Mom is gone. That author guy is just one more.”

“It’s not you.” The words were out of April’s mouth before she could stop them. She hated seeing the girl so sad.

“You’re lying.” Ranie didn’t even pause as she made the accusation and paced to the corner of the room. “Everyone loves Shay.”

“Something happened to Connor Pierce that makes it difficult for him to be around young kids.”

“What happened?” Ranie stepped forward, hands clenched tightly in front of her. This sweet, hurting girl had been through so much. Once again, April wanted to reach for her but held back. She shouldn’t have shared as much as she had about Connor, but she couldn’t allow Ranie to believe she was expendable to everyone she met. At least this way, Ranie could help shield Shay, keep her out of Connor’s line of sight.