Rugged Hearts (22 page)

He looked down at the child and back at the big cat. “His spirit will enter into those who will use the meat for food. In a way, he will live through them.”

The boy’s face crinkled. “You’re making that up.”

Wyatt shook his head. “That’s an ancient Indian belief and I feel it’s true.”

“But you’re not an Indian.” He gave Wyatt a quizzical look.

Wyatt rested his gun on his shoulder and realized the questions weren’t going to end and eventually he’d end up having to admit to this kid that he’d never met his real dad. It wasn’t a discussion he wanted to have. “Let’s get moving. It’s starting to snow again.” He led the way through the woods, anxious to get him back to his teacher, who could take over the questions.

“Mr. Kinnison?” Rory asked as they walked.

“Yes, Rory?” Wyatt refrained from sighing.

“Was that you in the Santa suit with Ms. Worth?”

Busted
. He tried to remember at what age he stopped believing is such things as the tooth fairy, the man in the moon, the jolly old man in the red suit, and his mother. He realized he couldn’t have been too much older than Rory, a few years maybe, when his childhood spirit was shattered one fateful Christmas morning. He contemplated carefully how best to answer and figured the truth was only thing good enough for a guy like Rory. “Rory, I’m going to share with you something I’ve only told one other soul.”

“What’s a soul?”

“Never mind. This is something I’ve never told anyone else.”

“Oh.” He blinked in curious wonder, his eyes large through those goofy lenses.

“I am the son of Santa Claus.”

Rory stopped and faced him, his expression clearly skeptical.

Wyatt nodded. “It’s true. My dad was Santa. You can ask anyone in town and they’ll confirm it.”

“Even Ms. Worth?” He narrowed his gaze.

“Especially Ms. Worth. Who, by the way is sworn to secrecy, as you too, must be.” He had a feeling that the kid wasn’t buying it.

“But I thought Santa lived at the North Pole.”

“Yeah, but he has to make a living somehow the rest of the year, doesn’t he?”

Rory eyed him a moment more and then nodded. “Okay, but did you really mean it when you said the thing about finding coal?”

Wyatt continued to walk. “Oh yeah, definitely.”

It was a few moments before the boy spoke up. “I suppose that’s what I’ll get now.” He spoke with dejection in his voice.

“Tell you what. How about you keep what I’ve told you between us, man to man, and I’ll see what I can do about the coal thing in your stocking.”

His eyes lit up with a smile. “Deal!” He stuck out his grubby hand and Wyatt shook it. The kid had a good business head for his age. He’d have to fill in Aimee later. It dawned on him as they walked he’d never before thought of sharing bits of his day with anyone but his brothers or Sadie.

Aimee dropped to the ground as they appeared in the clearing and ran as fast as she was able, stumbling through the snow. She grabbed Rory in a fierce hug. Wyatt looked down on the scene and realized how much this woman loved these kids and they weren’t even hers.

“You had me so worried, young man. When we get back, you and I are going to have a serious talk, do you understand?”

Rory looked up at Wyatt, his expression one of resignation.

Wyatt shrugged and tossed the boy a smile before he headed to the sleigh. It had been one hell of a strange day.

***

Wyatt glanced at the woman seated beside him. She was a petite little package of courage under fire, the type that would adapt well to living in a remote mountain ranch. The unexpected thought surprised him. She was far different from him in many ways and yet in others, he felt like he’d known her all of his life. At that moment, she seemed lost in her own thoughts. “Are you okay?” He nudged her lightly with his shoulder. The snow fell in a soft white curtain. On the horizon, he saw the roof of the ranch and as always, the horses picked up their gait, aware that a warm stall and a bucket of oats weren’t far off.

“You could have been killed.” Her blue eyes locked into his, her expression solemn.

“But I wasn’t, thanks to you,” he assured her.

Aimee nodded and lightly touched his leg. She jerked her hand back, and turned her glove over to show him. “There’s blood on your leg.”

He looked down, unaware until then of the slice in the fabric. The big cat’s claws must have done it during their scuffle. It was so cold and his mind so preoccupied that he hadn’t noticed.

“Here.” He handed Aimee the reins. She looked at him with an uncertain gaze. “Really? By comparison, to what else you’ve done today, this is nothing. Besides, the horses will lead you right to the barn.”

She accepted the reins, but her gaze darted to his leg. “Is it bad?”

Wyatt tugged off a glove with his teeth and stuffed it in his pocket. He peeled back the denim to assess the wound. “Nah. Just a bad scratch. Doubt it’ll even need stitches. We’ll take a look at it when we get home.”

“We’ll?”

She glanced at the gash, an ornery smile forming on her lips. “You’re sure about those stitches? I’m pretty good at embroidery.” Her gaze showed humor, but it didn’t hide her true concern. She was easy to talk to and Wyatt mused for a moment how many topics they’d covered in the last twenty-four hours.

“I’ll be fine, Ms. Worth.” He placed the emphasis on her name.

She smiled.

Wyatt reached up and lifted the edge of her stocking hat to reveal the purplish-blue bruise forming on her forehead. To his immense relief, the swelling hadn’t been as severe as he thought it might be. “How’s your head?” He purposely turned the tables back to her injury.

She reached up and touched it gingerly. “I almost forget it’s there until I brush my hand through my hair.” She gave him a sheepish grin.

“You do that when you’re nervous, I’ve noticed,” he countered, and allowed her to continue to guide the sleigh across the yard.

She shot him a look. “We’ll pick up this conversation later. I have some questions about what happened out there today.”

Wyatt climbed down and held his hand up to help her. For a moment, they stood toe to toe.

“I was afraid you’d be hurt if I didn’t do something. I’m terrible at paintball, really.”

With the children clamoring to get out of the sleigh he couldn’t kiss her like he wanted to. “Now you know how I felt when I came upon you and the kids in the accident.”

Her gaze softened. There was something there between them, a chemistry that transcended the physical, though he couldn’t deny his burning need for her all the same. Life had thrown them together unexpectedly, and the past few hours had challenged them to rely on each other for their very lives. Most people never encountered such experiences in a lifetime together. “I’ll take care of the horses,” he said as he scooped the students from the sleigh. “You get these guys in where it’s warm. There’s soup in the freezer if you’d want to start some on the stove.”

He watched her shepherd them into the house and followed with the tree. He left it on the porch to get it out of the weather and then guided the team to the barn, where he unhitched the sleigh and pampered the team with a good brushing and fresh oats. Lady and Scout nickered softly, and he awarded an extra scoop of oats to the two of them as well. “Merry Christmas,” he said quietly and closed the barn door. It occurred to him, as he slipped the latch in place, that he hadn’t heard from Dalton or Rein. In all the ruckus of his unexpected guests and a newly discovered lust for Aimee, he’d nearly forgotten about them. He made a mental note to give them a call and see how things were. His nose caught the scent of burning wood first and he looked up to see smoke curling from the chimney and smiled. As he approached the front of the house, he looked through the window and saw some of the kids playing with Sadie. An odd feeling washed over him. He glanced up and on the roof and there, as calm as you please, sat a great white owl, its unblinking gaze set on Wyatt. He stopped and regarded the bird in anticipation of it taking flight once seen, yet it sat there unmoving.

“Another storm?” He spoke to the bird, who blinked once and didn’t flutter a feather. Wyatt had the weirdest notion the bird knew him.

The front door opened and he saw Aimee’s silhouette against the warm light inside. “I saw you out here from the window. Who are you talking to?” She came to the edge of the steps, hugging herself from the cold. “Is there something wrong up on the roof?”

Wyatt shook his head and tromped up the steps. If the damn bird had nowhere else to go, he was welcome to stay. “Just an owl.” He grabbed the tree and tapped it a few times to get rid of the residual snow from its branches.

“Sally told me something about an ancient American Indian belief—”

The owl hooted and took flight.

“Superstition,” he muttered, turning Aimee toward the door.

***

Aimee glanced over her shoulder as Wyatt emerged from the hallway, freshly showered and looking sinful in a soft flannel shirt and a pair of gray sweat pants. His dark hair, damp and tousled from a haphazard drying, and his unshaven beard made him look even more sexy, if that were possible. His gaze turned to hers and he smiled.

“Hi, guys. What are we doing?” He raked his hand through his hair and sat down next to Aimee.

She fought hard not to stare. Did he realize how insanely gorgeous he looked? “Were the scratches deep?”

“Just a couple of Steri-strips, like I thought. I’ll have Doc take a look at it in a day or two. Just to be on the safe side. Strange to have an animal be that aggressive, but maybe the drought has made things tough to find food in the higher elevations.”

Aimee stared in rapt fascination, aware she’d heard about half of what he was saying to her. It was clear she’d developed powerful feelings for him in a short period of time. Sally’s caution niggled at the back of her brain, as well as Wyatt’s own admission that he wasn’t interested in a relationship. The signals he threw out were confusing, and she had to keep reminding herself that things between them could change rapidly after life returned to normal.

“Are you okay?” He gave her a strange look.

“I’m good. We were about to finish these decorations.”

He looked down at the array of paper, glue, crayons, and blunt-pointed scissors strewn across the table. “Are you always this prepared?” He gave her an astonished look.

“These are the essentials that
I
keep with me for all outings. You never know when you might need them. Now this, on the other hand,” she held up a pinecone, “we found under the tree out front, where the branches protected the ground from the snow.”

He plucked it from her hand. “Ah, my fire starters.”

“No.” She took it from him. “Decorations for our tree.”

The corner of his lip curled. His eyes glittered mischievously. “
Our
tree?”

Aimee’s cheeks warmed. She hadn’t thought of the connotation of her words. One of her students whispered in her friend’s ear and the two girls giggled. It was clear that what was happening between her and Wyatt hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Theoretically speaking, of course,” she corrected herself, and shifted her attention to the crafts.

The afternoon went by with Wyatt showing the kids how to grill hot dogs in the fireplace. Much to Sadie’s joy, she was able to snap up the charred pieces no one wanted. He showed them how to pop popcorn in a special pan and the children sat in awe of what appeared a primitive sight to them.

At some point during the late afternoon, Aimee glanced up at the brood around her and discovered Wyatt had disappeared. Outside, the snow continued to fall in waves of light to moderate. “Did anyone see where Mr. Kinnison went?” she spoke aloud to no child in particular. Two little girls whispered to one another and once caught, then held their hands over their mouths to hide their giggles.

“Girls,” she warned gently. Though she couldn’t very well dictate what they thought. They were smart kids and had obviously made a connection of some sort between her and Wyatt.

“Let’s hope these old things still have some life in them.”

Wyatt stomped the snow from his boots and held up the bulbs. “These were stored out in the barn.”

Aimee walked to meet him at the door and he handed her the bulbs as he shrugged out of his jacket. “What did you find them?” She eyed the dust-covered strand.

“I’m not sure if they even work, but thought they might be worth the try.

She inspected the old-fashioned colored bulbs, smiling at the memory of the lights her dad had used when they were young. She and Sarah used to sit at the base of the tree in the dark and stare, enamored by the lights, until their eyes nearly crossed. “We’ll let them warm up a bit before we test them.” She smiled. “This is really nice of you, Wyatt. You’ve done so much to help make the kids’ time here one they won’t ever forget.”

He hung his hat on the deer antlers and ushered her into the shadowed foyer out of earshot of the children. “Have you had your talk yet with Rory?” he said quietly.

Aimee nodded.” He had a rather colorful account of his adventure, yes. Sounded a bit like something out of a paperback novel.”

He inched closer and checked over her shoulder for eavesdroppers. His proximity reminded her of their encounter in the kitchen.

“Did he mention anything else?”

She eyed him. “No. Was there something you think he didn’t tell me?”

“He didn’t mention, then, what I told him?”

“Wyatt, the children already suspect that something is going on between us. I think it would be better if you got to the point so we don’t create any more suspicion by our hiding out in the foyer.”

He grinned and a rush of butterflies took flight in her stomach. “Tell me, please.” He searched her eyes.

“I swore him to secrecy and told him you’d also been sworn to secrecy.”

“Intriguing as this sounds, about what did you swear me to secrecy about?”

“While we were walking back to the sleigh, he asked me about the other night, seeing us together with me in the Santa suit.”

“Oh dear, and you told him what exactly?” Aimee held her breath.