On a Snowy Christmas Night. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
family. When she wasn’t at the shelter she’d be sticking to her room. The McAllisters had been good enough to take her in when they should be celebrating the holidays alone, as a family. That’s what this time of year was for.
Or so she’d been told a time or two. She had no practical experience in the matter. Even when her parents had been married, the atmosphere at home hadn’t been particularly cozy. Her father was a workaholic and her mother a shopaholic. Shea had gotten a lot of studying done. Later, when she’d been sent to boarding school, she hadn’t minded at all. Going home for the holidays? That hadn’t always worked out so well.
There seemed to be two areas for parking, one closer to the house, the other a grassy brown spot next to a large building that was probably the stables. She slowed the SUV, then saw a young woman step outside onto the porch that wrapped around both corners of the house.
Bundled in a green down jacket, the auburn-haired woman, who Shea would bet was Rachel, smiled and waved. After gesturing for Shea to park on the grass, she rubbed her hands together and blew on them before stuffing them into the pockets of her worn jeans.
Behind her the front door opened again. Another woman—older, shorter—appeared, followed by a tall man with longish dark hair. Shea couldn’t see him clearly, for one thing she was too busy parking and trying not to demolish the building.
Plus, her pulse had sped up and her hands had grown clammy.
What was this, the welcoming committee? It was hard enough meeting strangers and now she felt as if she were suddenly on a stage. Maybe it was a dude ranch tradition… the whole family greeting the new guest. She shuddered. Weird. This was precisely why staying at a B and B had never appealed to her. People expected conversation and small talk. Definitely not her strong suit.
Bracing herself, she put the SUV in Park and turned off the ignition. She grabbed her purse and opened the door. The sound of an engine confused her for a second. She looked at the keys in her hand.
The noise was coming from behind, she realized, and twisted around to see that a huge black pickup had followed her down the driveway. With the windows rolled up and the heater going, she hadn’t heard it. The driver parked closer to the house and it was quickly apparent that Shea wasn’t the reason everyone had rushed to the porch, and she had to laugh at her own paranoia. At least she could see the humor in it now. Climbing out of the car, she smiled as the younger woman approached her and the other two converged on the truck.
“Shea Monroe, right?” she said, grinning, and Shea nodded. “I’m Rachel. We spoke when you made your reservation.” The woman extended her hand.
“Yes, I remember.” Shea started to pull off her glove but Rachel stopped her.
“Don’t. It’s freezing.” Rachel laughed and squeezed Shea’s gloved hand. “At least I had enough sense to grab my jacket.”
“Thanks again for giving me a room. I swear I’ll be no trouble.”
“Hey, we’re big supporters of Safe Haven. It’s so nice of you to give up your holidays to volunteer. My brother works with them quite a bit and occasionally we foster horses.”
Shea’s gaze automatically went to the man and the older woman who stood beside the truck. He was very nice-looking, about her age, she guessed.
“That’s Trace over there with our mom,” Rachel said. “He’s one of the hooligans but not the one I was talking about.” The new arrivals, a man and a woman, stepped out of the truck and Rachel waved frantically at them. “That’s my other brother Cole and his girlfriend, Jamie. He just picked her up at the airport. She’s come to spend Christmas with us.”
“Oh, you have two brothers. How nice,” Shea said, and when Rachel gave her a quizzical look she just smiled. No, she wasn’t a sparkling conversationalist, so better everyone know now.
“I have three.” Rachel studied her a moment. “You probably noticed them on the website.…”
“Oh, right.” She wasn’t in the habit of lying, but having noticed her brothers seemed to mean something to Rachel so Shea didn’t see the harm in the small fib.
Rachel titled her head slightly to the side, amusement dancing in her bright green eyes. “Or maybe not. It doesn’t matter. I’ll help with your bags and then you can meet everyone.”
“No, please, go be with your family. I’ll be along in a minute.”
“No worries. I’ll see them later.” Rachel swung around to the back of the SUV. “How many bags? I can get Trace to—”
“That’s not necessary,” Shea said, cutting her off then feeling ashamed for being rude. She cleared her throat. “Thanks, but I don’t have much and I need to do some rearranging before I come in.” She paused. “If that’s okay?”
“Sure. I didn’t mean to rush you. Take all the time you need.” Rachel lightly touched her arm, the understanding in her eyes a bit unnerving. “We can be a boisterous bunch, but I promise we don’t bite.”
Shea managed a grateful nod before Rachel turned away, then felt her face flame. She hated the random attacks of shyness that plagued her when she was around too many people. Quickly, she opened the back hatch and busied herself with sifting through her suitcase. A few things, such as her heavy boots and mittens, could stay in the back of the car. No sense lugging them back and forth to the house. She’d need them at the shelter, not here.
Her gaze drifted toward the animated group as they chatted and laughed, grabbing luggage and totes full of wrapped presents from the back of the truck. Cole was tall and dark like Trace, with hair that brushed his collar. And the honey-blonde woman, Cole’s girlfriend, was very pretty. She seemed comfortable with the family, as if she’d known them for a long time.
Shea couldn’t help but be a little envious of the lively group. The men not so much, but the three women were gabbing as if there wasn’t enough time to get everything in. Good for them. But being an outsider was fine with her. Comfortable. Familiar.
She had the strangest feeling that someone was watching her and turned to scan the outer building. An indistinct rider was galloping in from the south. Appearing oblivious to the cold, a pair of beautiful roans munched hay from a bale in the corral. It was close to dinnertime so she wasn’t surprised that there were no workers in sight. The only other sign of humanity was smoke streaming out of the smokestack of one of the brick-and-wood buildings, probably the bunkhouse.
She started to turn back to sorting when she saw him under the archway to the barn. She’d almost missed him, standing in the shadows, lean and tall—well over six feet. He wore faded jeans, a brown flannel shirt, boots and work gloves, and he stared out, though not at her. His attention was on the family, who now headed toward the front steps.
She couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from him. He could’ve been a McAllister. He had the same coloring, the height, the same dark hair as the two brothers, except his was much shorter, almost a military cut. But that wasn’t what made her doubt he was one of the brothers, it was the way he held himself back from the group. Like an outsider idly looking on… like she had.
Maybe he was one of the hired hands. Very good-looking, at any rate. Just an observation. It wasn’t that she was interested. She was totally done with men. They weren’t worth the aggravation. Even sex was overrated in her opinion. Focusing on her work gave her far more satisfaction. And she hoped her time at the shelter would help fill her need to connect with another living, breathing being. Preferably a horse. She loved horses, always had.
Shea smiled as she thought about all the childhood letters she’d written to Santa asking for a pony. But all she’d ever gotten were silly froufrou dresses from her mother and educational toys from her father. Oh, and that trip to Disneyland when she was nine. Her parents had argued the entire time and divorced three months later.
A week after her father had moved out of the house, Shea had asked for a dog, but her mother had refused what she deemed an “added burden.” It had probably been